The other six permanent members of the Conclave waited in their respective seats. Faegan was speaking. Upon seeing her come in, he politely stopped, looked at her, and nodded. When Tyranny glanced around the room, she saw sadness and concern on every face.

Tyranny went to embrace Shailiha, Celeste, and Abbey, and did her best to offer them support. Then she took her seat.

She was painfully aware of the empty chairs on either side of her. Normally, Tristan would sit to her right and Wigg to her left. Having no one on either side gave her a strange, isolated feeling, despite the presence of the other people in the room.

Tyranny trained her wide blue eyes on the wizard. Faegan looked tired and drawn. The bloodred Paragon hanging around his neck twinkled brightly in the light of the chandelier.

She saw that both the Tome of the Paragon and the Scroll of the Vigors had been brought here, presumably for safekeeping. The massive, white leather-bound Tome sat in one corner upon a black marble pedestal, its gilt-edged pages lying open. The scroll hovered beside it in the air, spelled there by Faegan.

The scroll was half a meter wide and about one meter long unrolled. A gold rod, with knobs on either end, ran through its center. A gold band engraved with Old Eutracian secured the tightly rolled document at its middle. Tyranny winced when she remembered how much of the precious document had been burned, that night on the roof of the palace. Large sections of the fine vellum were charred and flaking. Even so, it remained magnificent. Finally she looked back at Faegan.

"There is still no word of Tristan, Wigg, or Traax?" she asked.

"No," Faegan answered. "But they are three highly resourceful individuals-especially when they are together. We must not give up hope."

"I have urgent news," Tyranny said. "My fleet sighted a lone demonslaver ship only hours ago, and she-"

She stopped cold when Faegan stiffened and cocked his head to one side.

Then a brief smile overcame the wizard's face-the first in two days. And then everyone became aware of a growing hubbub in the hallway outside. Suddenly, the double doors burst open, and Tristan, Wigg, and Traax staggered through the doorway.

All three were dirty from head to toe, covered with what looked like some sort of ash. Much of the right side of Wigg's robe had been scorched away to reveal right hand and right leg covered with red, blistered burns. Tristan looked unharmed, but his hair had been singed. Traax's long, dark hair had been burned, too, as had part of his leather body armor. All three looked exhausted.

With joyous cries and teary eyes, Celeste, Shailiha, and Abbey stood and raced to embrace the men.

Feeling a bit like an intruder on the tender scene, Tyranny lowered her head and gazed at the inlaid tabletop. She wanted to share her joy at Tristan's safe return, but that did not seem appropriate.

At last, Tristan helped Wigg to his seat, and then he and Traax sat down. Tristan smiled over at Tyranny, and she smiled back. The Jin'Sai nodded his greetings to the rest of the table.

Faegan placed his gnarled hands flat on the tabletop and looked at Wigg.

"You are severely burned, my old friend," he said. "But at first glance your injuries do not appear to be life-threatening. You have treated yourself with an incantation of accelerated healing, I presume? And something to help with the pain?"

Wigg reached to his left and took Abbey's hand, then nodded. He remained silent, knowing full well what Faegan's next question would be. Faegan leaned forward, his eyes shining with curiosity.

"Tell me, is it as we feared?"

"Yes," Wigg said sadly. "But I regret to tell you that there is other news, and it is equally grave."

"What is it?" Abbey asked.

"An entire village is gone," he whispered. "Brook Hollow. The energy dripping from the Orb of the Vigors burned the place to ash. Try as I might, there was nothing I could do to stop it." Taking his hand back from Abbey, Wigg wiped tears from his eyes.

"We were right, Faegan," he went on. "The Orb of the Vigors is torn-no doubt a result of Wulfgar's attempt to destroy it by polluting it with the Orb of the Vagaries. It is dripping the pure energy of the Vigors. For all I know, it may continue to do so for all time."

For several long moments there was only the crackling of the logs in the fireplace.

"How is it that the three of you survived?" Abbey finally asked.

"We lost nearly all the warriors that accompanied us," Tristan answered. "It was only by the grace of the Afterlife that there were enough warriors still alive to catch us as our burning litter went down. We were outside of the main path of the Orb, and were able to build a new litter from freshly felled trees. The surviving warriors flew us home."

"What direction was the orb traveling in when you left?" Faegan asked.

"North, across the fields of Farplain," Traax answered. "Luckily, that area is largely uninhabited. But the orb's path is erratic. It's impossible to say where it might turn next."

"Do you believe that the orb has been dripping energy ever since that night Wulfgar tried to destroy it?" Shailiha asked.

"An excellent question," Wigg said. "No, I do not think so. If that had been the case, then it would have destroyed much of the palace that night, and a good deal of Tammerland, as it moved away. I believe that the orb was weakened that night, and that it finally ruptured later, in some other part of the country."

"We need to know where the orb is at all times," Tristan said. "Traax, I want you to send out several squadrons of warriors to find it. Once they have, they are to set up a chain of communication so that we will receive regular updates, just as we do with Tyranny's fleet. If the orb moves toward an inhabited place, the warriors must do all they can to warn the populace."

"That may be difficult, Jin'Sai," Traax said. "They still do not trust us."

Geldon spoke up at last. "May I make a recommendation?"

"By all means," Tristan said.

"It seems to me that the Minions need someone to travel with them, to act as a human emissary on their behalf," he replied. "I would like to offer my services."

Tristan looked at the hunchbacked dwarf with true admiration. The small man with the very large heart had proven invaluable to them in the past, and Tristan was sure that this new mission would prove to be no exception.

"Of course," the prince said. "And thank you."

Unable to contain her news any longer, Tyranny spoke up.

"I know all of this is incredibly important, but so is what I have to tell you," she said.

"What is it?" Tristan asked.

Taking a deep breath, Tyranny looked around the table. "Only hours ago, a demonslaver frigate slipped through my fleet," she said. "I believe she was making for the Cavalon Delta. If I'm right, she may already be there."

Tristan's face became grave. "How can that be?" he asked. To Tyranny's relief, he seemed to be more stunned than angry. Reaching up, he ran one hand through his dark hair. "I've sailed with you, and I know how skilled you are! How could a lone frigate slip through a dozen vessels under your command?"

The muscles in Tyranny's jaw clenched. "I had her dead to rights," she answered grimly. "I ordered the fleet to fan out in a battle line and take her. There should have been no possibility of escape. As I watched her approach, she was simply there one second, and gone the next.

"Someone of the craft must have been aboard her, and caused the frigate to disappear," she added. "The same way they did not so long ago, just before we finally smashed their fleet." Sitting tiredly back in her chair, she knew that everyone around the table understood what she wasn't saying.

"Could it be true?" Tristan asked Faegan. "Could Wulfgar still be alive?"