The princess looked at Sorak and Ryana. “Words are insufficient to express my feelings,” she said. “I will always be deeply indebted to you both.”
“You owe us nothing,” Sorak said.
“No, I owe you a great deal,” said Korahna, “and someday, perhaps, I can properly repay it.” She hugged Sorak, then Ryana. “Farewell, Sister,” she said. “You shall always be in my thoughts.”
“And you in mine,” Ryana said. “May your feet be steady on the Path.”
“And yours,” Korahna said. “Farewell.”
She handed the lantern to Ryana and went with the others. Their torches receded into the darkness of the underground ruins until they parted, going off into different directions and disappeared from sight. Sorak looked down at the rolled up scroll he held in his hand.
“And so another clue in our long search,” he said. “Let us see what this one holds.” He untied the green ribbon and unrolled the scroll. It merely said, “Burn in a safe and isolated place.”
“Well, this place certainly seems safe and isolated enough,” Ryana said. She held up the lantern. Sorak stuck a corner of the scroll into the flame. At once, as the flames licked up the length of the scroll, they began to burn with a blue-green fire. Sorak dropped the scroll onto the ground and they both stood back.
As the edges of the burning scroll curled up and blackened, sparks began to shoot forth, dancing up into the air. More of the scroll burned, and more sparks rose up, only instead of being extinguished as they rose, they grew brighter and swirled around in mad arabesques, like frenzied fireflies going around and around, faster and faster, eventually forming a swirling, sparking column of blue-green light. Within the light, a bare outline of a figure formed, its features indistinguishable but dressed in robes. The figure was a brighter light within the light, sparkling and giving off radiance that lit up the entire underground courtyard. And then it spoke.
“You have done well, my children. You have secured the Seals of Knowledge, corrected an injustice in rescuing the Princess Korahna, and proven your worth and your tenacity in your arduous journey across the Stony Barrens. But greater challenges, and still greater dangers, lie ahead. You must now leave the city of the Shadow King, and leave it quickly, for he has great power, and the time to deal with him has not yet come. Set your feet upon the path to the villiage of Salt View, across the Great Ivory Plain and beyond the Mekillot Mountains. There you must seek a druid known as the Silent One, who shall guide your to the ancient city of Bodach, where lies the next object of your quest. Guard the Seals of Knowledge with your lives, for together with what you shall find in Bodach, they hold the key that will unlock the final object of your quest.”
“But what are we to seek in Bodach?” Sorak asked.
There was no reply. The shimmering figure faded from view as the whirling sparks shot out in all directions and dissipated in the gloom of the underground ruins.
“Gith’s blood!” swore Sorak angrily. “He toys with us and poses riddles! Why does he not speak plainly and tell us what we need to know? How many more tests must we pass?”
“Perhaps he doles out the information we require in small portions,” said Ryana, “so that we cannot reveal all if we should fail and fall into defiler hands.”
“Now we must seek something in Bodach,” Sorak said in frustration, “and we know not what it is. And after that, he implies that there is yet a third object to be found, only we know not what or where.”
“Perhaps this druid called the Silent One, who is to be our guide, can tell us,” said Ryana.
Sorak sighed with exasperation. “Only to find him, we must first cross the Ivory Plain,” he said. “The barrens are nothing but miles of broken rock. The Great Ivory Plain is nothing but a sea of salt. And as if that were not enough, we must then make our way to Bodach, and the Silent One would have to be insane to willingly guide anyone to that evil place.”
“How is Bodach evil?” asked Ryana.
Sorak snorted. “How is it not evil?” He reached into his pack and pulled out The Wanderer’s Journal. “Listen this,” he said, opening the book and reading:
“Bodach, lying at the tip of a peninsula projecting into one of the great inland silt basins, was undoubtedly one of the mightiest cities of the ancients. Its ruins cover many square miles of the peninsula. When you stand at the edge of the silt basin, you can see its towers rising above the silt for many miles beyond.
“Unfortunately, Bodach and the surrounding territories are not good places to linger. As the crimson sun goes down, thousands of undead zombies and skeletons crawl out of the cellars, sewers, and hidden dungeons, then begin scouring the city and the surrounding countryside. If you are here after dark, you will spend the entire night fighting one long, pitched battle.
“I have talked to those who say that the undead are controlled by a powerful defiler who is using them to keep treasure hunters away from the city while he systematically loots it. Others claim that the undead are the original inhabitants of the city, and they cannot rest because there is some terrible secret buried in the heart of the ancient city that they do not want discovered. In either case, if you go to Bodach, be prepared for an intense battle against this gruesome army.”
“Oh,” said Ryana. “I see.”
“Note that nowhere does he say that he himself has been there,” Sorak said. “Even the Sage did not dare go to Bodach, and yet he sends us there.”
“He was not yet the Sage when he was the Wanderer,” Ryana reminded him. “And now that he is the Sage, he cannot go himself. The pyreen told you that this quest would not be easy. You seek the Sage to ask a boon and find direction for your life. Well, something gained for nothing is worth exactly what it cost to gain. In any case, before we can think of Bodach and its armies of undead, we must first leave the city safely and reach the village of Salt View. What sort of place is that?”
“The Wanderer describes it as a village of former slaves who now live as raiders and gypsy entertainers. It is governed by a mul who was once a gladiator, and the marauders we have met before make their camp not far from there. Doubtless, they use the village as a base of supply and a place of recreation. In other words, we can expect to find no friends there.”
“We should find one in the druid,” said Ryana. “Do not be discouraged, Sorak. We embarked on this quest together, and we shall see it through together. You have lived in ignorance of your past for all your life. Surely, you did not expect to find all the answers in a few short weeks?”
He sighed. “I suppose not. It is just that I had hoped. . . . Well, it makes no difference. I chose this path, now I must walk it.”
“We chose this path,” she said.
He looked and her and smiled. “Yes, we did—Together. Forgive me, little sister. And thank you for your strength.”
“You are forgiven,” she said. “And you are welcome—Now let’s get out of this miserable place. The lantern burns low, and I have no wish to stumble around down here in the dark.”
They made their way back down the tunnel and found the branching point the wizard had told them about. They turned down it and walked along a short corridor before they came to a flight of stone steps. At the end of the steps they reached only a brick wall.
“Now what?” said Sorak.
“There must be a door somewhere,” said Ryana.
After searching for a few moments by the dim, flickering glow of the lantern, she finally found an iron ring set into the wall to their left. As the lantern flickered out, she pulled it. The ring did not give on the first try, but on the second, when she put more strength into it, it pulled out of the wall slightly, and there was a grating sound as the wall swung open. It was a concealed door, pivoting around a central rod that ran through it. It opened out into a wooden storage shed, built against the back wall of the tavern. They cautiously opened the door of the shed and peered outside. The way seemed clear. They stepped out into the alley and breathed the fresh night air.