"The journey was dangerous," Catrin said after a moment's consideration. "But it was made disastrous by means of outside interference. Someone was coerced into interfering with my journey. I know it; I could feel it. You did not place me in danger. My enemies did that. Regardless, I bear momentous news. One of the Statues of Terhilian has been found and is being excavated."

Her words seemed to ring Mother Gwendolin's reality like a bell. She sat in stunned silence, unable to formulate a response.

"I followed a trail of pilgrims to their destination, and there I found the bones of the great beast, but it was the exposed face of Istra, on the opposite side of the mountain, that drew the throng. I looked upon her, and she shone back at me. I cannot say for certain what others saw, only my perception of it."

Tears slid down Mother Gwendolin's tired face, and her breath shuddered when she made to speak. "This is the worst possible news, and it comes on the heels of other ill tidings. General Dempsy has returned from the Godfist with only three of his ships. He's spreading a wild tale of destruction that lays total blame at your feet. He claims you destroyed his armies in cold blood, single-handedly, leaving a trail of gore wherever you trod. He has joined with the forces gathering to assault Ohmahold, and we have word they are constructing monstrous siege engines."

General Dempsy was the man who led the siege on the Godfist. Now she had a name, which granted her power, and Catrin stored the information away.

"The Greatland is on the verge of widespread famine and starvation," Mother Gwendolin continued. "Drought and the lack of capable hands threaten to leave thousands without food. The armies have conscripted the majority of able-bodied persons along with the majority of the livestock, and the seeds of war are all that have been sown. Our civilization is on a path to destruction, and events are moving faster than anyone could have foreseen. And now a Statue of Terhilian enters the fray. It is hard to believe, but I do believe you. If you say you have seen the face of Istra, I believe you. I just have no idea what to do about it."

Catrin could empathize. The news was all very overwhelming, and she could find no suitable course of action to take. Depression settled on her, and she shook herself physically to dislodge it. "I need to get out of this bed."

"I suppose we could walk a bit if you are feeling well enough, but we should not go too far."

Sudden flashes of memory returned, images of tomes and artifacts obfuscated by a thick layer of dust. Catrin recalled her frantic return and the wondrous sight that had caught her attention. "I don't mean to pry, but are you aware of a large hall, within Ohmahold, that is filled with books, swords, and a variety of oddities covered in dust?" she asked.

"I'm not aware of any such hall. How did you come to know of it? There is no place in this hold that is allowed to accumulate so much dust."

"When I was returning from the south, the strange presence confused me and I was lost. I came back into Ohmahold through the stone, and during my journey, I passed through the hall. I think I could find it."

Curiosity seemed to overcome Mother Gwendolin's reluctance to tax Catrin's strength, but not without due consideration. "Are you certain you feel strong enough? Is it far?"

"I want to try. I'm not certain how far it is, but I'll let you know if I get too tired." In truth, she was already weary, but her own curiosity drove her onward. She could sleep when she knew what the mysterious room actually contained. Perhaps some lost volume held the answers to her questions. She let her instincts and her memories guide her to the area she had passed through. The trail led them to the maze that secured the entrance of the Inner Sanctuary. "It's in there."

"Are you certain? We've mapped the entire labyrinth, and only the halls that bear the death symbols remain unexplored. You see, the ancients left us a code that we use to identify the safe passages within the labyrinth, and the defensive halls are marked with specific patterns of symbols."

"It's this way," Catrin said as she grabbed a lantern and led the way into the maze. She followed her instincts, and Mother Gwendolin confirmed the safety of every corridor before they entered it. Letting Mother Gwendolin concentrate on remembering where they were, Catrin concentrated on where they were going.

"I've never walked this part of the maze before. This passage is almost never used to my knowledge, for it leads nowhere. There are only death passages leading from it," Mother Gwendolin said, but Catrin walked in anyway. This was the passage, every bit of instinct and guidance she had pointed just beyond it. When they reached a four-way junction, Catrin stopped, and Mother Gwendolin carefully inspected the markings. Catrin was not certain which of the decorations were significant and which were frivolous.

"All these corridors are death chambers. We can go no farther this way."

Catrin used her senses to peer ahead. The corridor that stood directly across from her was the one; she knew it. "What exactly are the death chambers?" she asked.

"We don't know every variation, but they are filled with traps, many triggered by pressure plates. Some will crush you under a pile of rock, while others impale their victims on sharpened stakes. None has been triggered in my lifetime, and I'm uncertain what exactly lies down that corridor." Driven by an impulse, Catrin strode into the hall, and Mother Gwendolin drew a sharp intake of breath.

Nothing happened.

Catrin's steps did not falter, and she did not hesitate. She let her confidence carry her farther along the hall, and still nothing happened.

Mother Gwendolin conquered her own fears and joined her. She took Catrin's hand and held it in her own. "You are very brave. Are you certain you wish to go deeper? We could both die."

"I'm willing to risk my life. I believe I'm right, but I'll not ask you to risk yours, nor can I ask another to go in my stead. This is mine to do."

"And I have faith in you. I believe in you, and I'll walk beside you in this," Mother Gwendolin said, tightening her grip on Catrin's hand. With a squeeze in return, Catrin strode ahead. A small part of her mind warned against arrogance, but she knew she was safe; this was the way. The two walked, hand in hand, in the lamplight, and when they reached a corner, they each began to breathe again. Resting for a moment, they prepared themselves for what lay ahead. Then they turned the corner together.

Awaiting them was a sight beyond even Catrin's expectations, her memories accounting for only a small fraction of what she saw before her. Row upon row of shelves stood in ranks, lined with hide-bound tomes. Racks of weapons lined the walls, and enormous tapestries hung high above. Fantastically complex devices filled a large corner of the hall, and the sight of them sparked the imagination: Who knew what wondrous purpose they could serve? So much of what she saw was foreign and unidentifiable that it was overwhelming. Mother Gwendolin stood at her side, bereft of words. Her hands were plastered to the sides of her face, and she simply stared in wonder.

The rush of the excitement faded immediately, though, as shouts echoed loudly through the halls and the sound of many booted feet shattered the silence. It was muffled and distorted in the great hall, but its portent was clear: something was very wrong. Mother Gwendolin immediately bolted from the hall and rushed back to the maze. Catrin was close on her heels, her exhaustion banished by fear. When they gained the mighty stair, Mother Gwendolin shouted to those above.