When she awakened, Sadie had been absent and Facet had been servicing her master in a very personal way, much to the dark wizard’s loud and groaning delight. Stomach turning, Gretchan had turned her back and tried to ignore the activity, which was punctuated by Willim’s cruel cries of ecstasy and, eventually, the whimpering submission of the young, beautiful apprentice. Not long after that, Sadie had returned via teleportation. The wizard had spoken to them both quietly before departing.
Gretchan spotted Facet looking in her direction. The priestess raised a hand and beckoned her to come closer, taking care to move slowly, to mask any threat that might be implied by her gesture. The two black-robed females whispered together again, both of them glancing over at her, and finally they rose and, side by side, and walked slowly and cautiously over to Gretchan, stopping several paces back from the bars of the cage.
Gretchan gestured to her mouth then spread her hands and reached out, a clear gesture of beseeching. Let me talk to you, she mouthed silently.
She could see the hesitation and fear on both the wrinkled face of the elder Sadie and the beautiful but haunted visage of Facet. Once again she was struck by the contrast in appearance between the two, the only wizards she had observed in Willim’s company and service. Sadie was wary and guarded, her eyes deeply set in her skull, her expression cautious and, in some unknowable way, sad. Facet was brazen and haughty, meeting Gretchan’s look with a glare of frank hostility. With her crimson lips and alabaster, sculpted face, she was almost indescribably beautiful. Yet her eyes remained hooded with a look not so much of sadness, like Sadie’s, but of constant, lurking fear.
The priestess spread her hands, palms up, in the universal gesture of peaceful intent. The apprentice younger whispered something to the elder, and finally the older one approached the cage and snapped her fingers.
Immediately Gretchan heard all the sounds of her own body, the things she had so often taken for granted. As the breath rasped through her nose, her pulse thrumming audibly again, she nodded and said, “Thank you.”
“Beware,” cautioned Sadie. “If he returns, this will not go well … for any of us.”
“I know. But I’m so grateful. I was afraid I’d go mad, being cooped up in that silence. It’s a powerful spell,” she added, nodding appreciatively at Sadie.
The old dwarf maid snorted skeptically. “It’s basic magic. Real power … well, that’s what you demonstrated when you vanquished the fire dragon like that. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”
Remembering that the two apprentices had teleported away as the dragon arrived, Gretchan looked at her quizzically. “I didn’t know you saw it. I thought you had gone somewhere safer.”
Sadie smiled unapologetically. “We were on the far side of the city. We expected you to die and, well …”
“We wanted to watch,” Facet said sharply. She scowled, clearly disappointed by the cleric’s survival. “How did you defeat the monster, anyway?” Facet demanded. “We thought the Chaos creature was immortal!”
“I didn’t vanquish the creature,” Gretchan said. “All the glory goes to Reorx, Master of the Forge and Father God of All Dwarves,” she added pointedly, reminding her captors of the shared kinship of their ancestry. “I was merely his tool, and a prisoner at that, as you well know.”
“I do know,” Sadie said, nodding. “About being a prisoner as well.”
“Oh?” Gretchan prodded, grateful to have the conversation and curious as to what she might learn. “Who made you a prisoner?”
“Why, Willim, of course,” the elder apprentice declared as if surprised at the question. Her eyes flickered to the side, toward the laboratory table, and Gretchan remembered the bell jar, the blue spark, and Sadie’s constant attention to that mysterious light.
“Is that a prison? A glass cage?’ she asked.
Sadie stared at her again, frankly. “Yes. I was there too until very recently. Willim thought my husband and I were betraying him, and in his rage he was … not kind to us.”
Gretchan nodded sympathetically then turned her eyes to Facet, who was watching them, her face an unreadable mask. “And you? Were you his prisoner as well?”
“I am here by my own choice!” she asserted fiercely. “My master has taught me very much. He is training me, and I am learning from him. I serve him, and he shares the deepest secrets of the Order of the Black Robes with me.”
“I have noticed that he doesn’t seem to treat you very well, however,” Gretchan declared gently. “And it seems he forces you to do some … unsavory … things.”
For the first time, the pale female’s face colored. Facet tossed back her hair and lifted her chin proudly. “I use all the tools at my disposal,” she said coldly and with a little too much bravado.
The priestess nodded, maintaining her sympathetic tone. “I understand. We all live in a man’s world. We must all do what we can to get along.”
“Why are you even talking to us?” Facet blurted. “Surely you remember that it was I who tried to kill you in the woods, on your way to Pax Tharkas?” She sneered. “You were a fool, traveling by yourself, sleeping with a big fire.”
“Oh, I remember. You scared the daylights out of me. And you were skilled with your magic-you almost killed me. But if I am such a fool, doesn’t that make you a greater fool for your failure?”
Gretchan again saw fear flicker across the young woman’s face. “I … I was already punished, severely, for my failure,” she said sullenly. “You will not survive me again.”
“I apologize for my words and am sorry you were punished,” the cleric said. “Of course I had to defend myself, but I can attest that you tried very hard to do your job. Your master must be very cruel, indeed.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Why are you talking to us?” Facet demanded again, her tone thick with suspicion.
The cleric shrugged, choosing her words carefully. “I’m lonely, for one thing. I’m used to being surrounded by people. And I’m a talker and a writer by nature. To be locked up in a cage and especially muffled under a spell of silence … well, it’s almost enough to drive me mad.”
The discussion ended with a sudden gasp from Facet, who quickly spun away from the cage and dropped to her knees. Sadie, more slowly, turned and bowed as the wizard materialized abruptly in the space in front of his table. He was frowning, agitated, and at first didn’t even take note of his accomplices or their reactions. He smashed a fist down against the stone surface then paced angrily away in the direction of the chasm.
“My master, is there news?” asked Sadie, shooting Gretchan a look of warning.
Instead of answering, he took up the cleric’s staff and stalked over to the cage where Gretchan, taking care to utter no sound, sat watching him. With a snap of his fingers he dispelled the magic of the silence spell, doing so with such distracted haste that he apparently didn’t notice the magic had already been neutralized.
“You must be ready to travel,” he said. “Have you eaten and drunk your fill?” “Yes,” she replied calmly.
“Good. Now get ready, all of you!” he barked in a tone of command. “We’re going to the Isle of the Dead. Facet, gather a case of potions-a large case, for we may be gone for a while. You and I shall go at once, taking our prisoner.
“Sadie,” he continued. “I want you to collect my spellbooks and the scrolls. Bring them all; use a bag of holding to contain them. Follow us as soon as you can.” Willim himself took Gretchan’s staff from his worktable, holding it in both hands and pausing for a moment as if to savor the touch of the powerful artifact.
Gretchan watched in silent apprehension as the two apprentices set about their tasks, obeying their master’s commands. She saw Sadie looking around with alarm and felt a stab of sympathy for the elder female, who obviously didn’t want to leave the jar with the blue spark behind.