"That's Selana!" cried Tas.

"This Selana had a severe gash in her side," continued Nanda, "and she wore little but rags, which were wet and freezing in the cold air. Hoto quickly set out to rescue her, but she was very far away. Before he could reach her, something even more mysterious happened. Out of nowhere a creature appeared. Hoto claims this beast looked like a minotaur, but it was not truly a beast. It was a monstrous creation made of living white stone. This thing scooped up the woman and carried her away into the face of the mountain, at the place where the wizard comes each month."

"This is perfect," Tas declared. "We've got Balcombe, the bracelet, and Selana all together in one place. Even Rostrevor, the squire, is there, I'm sure of it. We can rescue everyone at once."

For the first time, Hoto addressed the group. He did not move, but continued sitting on his stool and staring into the fire. "Anyone you plan to save must be rescued today."

Tanis turned to Nanda with raised eyebrows. The half-elf was completely unfamiliar with phaethon social patterns, but their hierarchy was obviously rigid. The last thing he wanted was to offend the people who could be their best allies. Nanda understood Tanis's silent plea and addressed him. "You may speak, Tanis Half-Elven, but be truthful in everything you say."

"Considering Hoto's statement," Tanis began, "I propose that we attack Balcombe's hideout tonight. We have had little success fighting this man before, but if we surprise him, we may be able to beat him."

"Tonight will be too late. This evening may be too late. Now is the only time." The elder phaethon's voice held no rancor, no sarcasm or criticism. With the exception of the Speaker of the Sun, Tanis had never heard anyone state a fact with such simple conviction.

Tanis did not want to offend the eider phaethon by questioning this information, but his memory of the battle against Balcombe beneath Tantallon Castle was still vivid. The thought of rushing into another fight without time to plan or prepare frightened him.

Again, Nanda sensed Tanis's uneasiness. "You may question Hoto if you wish. Remember, however, that this freedom is almost never allowed to strangers. Remember, too, that his truthfulness is unassailable. If Hoto says it is so, then it is so. You may ask him to clarify."

Those restrictions seemed to make questions superfluous, Tanis thought, but at least some further information could be gleaned. "Why is speed so important?" he asked.

"Last night, the moon Nuitari entered high sanction. This man always performs his rituals during Nuitari's high sanction. Tonight, Nuitari and Lunitari are aligned, making this a time of powerful magic. Such a combination will not recur for another thirty-three days. I have watched this man for years and know his patterns. He will perform his ritual tonight.

"After the ritual, there will be no one left to rescue."

Tasslehoff could hold his tongue no longer. "He's absolutely right. I don't know why anyone is balking. I heard Balcombe talk about how delighted he was to be able to offer up Rostrevor's soul, and he's just the son of a knight. Think what he must be planning now that he's caught a real princess! I vote that we get going right now."

Tanis shook his head. "No one brought it to a vote, Tas. I think our hosts will make this decision for us."

Nanda looked each squarely in the eyes in turn. "The woman, Selana, has no special value to us. We would protect her if we could, as Hoto tried to do, but she is not our real concern.

"The wizard, Balcombe, on the other hand, is a potential problem. We know he uses the mountains to hide his evil activity from people in Tantallon. By itself this does not concern us, either, because his actions, whatever they are, have brought no harm to our territory. We know from experience that eventually this will change. Even if he abandons this region and never returns, his empty lair will attract monsters that will try to prey on us. It is best that we remove him before he brings additional trouble.

"If this seems harsh to you, simply know that it is our way. By such means we have protected ourselves against the outside world for thousands of years, and we will continue doing so as long as we must. For the moment, your interests and ours coincide and we can work together. Your weapons have been brought up. Make yourselves ready and we will leave at once."

Tanis, Tas, and Flint turned around and saw that phaethons who had entered the room during Nanda's speech carried the trio's weapons. Flint picked up his long-handled, double-headed axe and heavy fighting knife and thrust both through his belt. Tanis tossed his quiver of arrows over one shoulder, slung the long strap supporting his short sword scabbard over the other shoulder, and picked up his bow, rubbing the oiled leather grip and the smooth wooden curves. Tas snatched up his hoopak and dagger and stuffed several slices and chunks of Cele's delicious bread into his pouches. In moments, all were ready.

Nanda instructed Tanis, Tas, and Flint to step to the door. One phaethon stepped up behind each and wrapped his arms around his passenger. Then, before anyone had time to protest or panic, all three phaethons leaned forward and pushed themselves and their living cargo off the platform. Air whistled past Tas's ears and locks of his own hair flapped in his face as he plummeted toward the ground, then heard the distinctive whoosh of the phaethon's wings igniting and felt his weight pressing against the flyer's arms as they leveled off. As much as Tasslehoff wanted to rescue Selana, he hoped Balcombe's lair was a long way off.

Chapter 17

Selana awoke to the smell of burning dung, flames fanning her face. Still, she shivered from a cool dampness. Her blue-green eyes, dulled from exhaustion, fluttered open, then widened in astonishment.

The sea elf was alone, propped up on the dirt floor of a large, rectangular cavern lit by only the low-burning stick-and-dung fire smoldering in its center. The ceiling was low for a cavern so large, perhaps only twelve feet high. In the dim light she could barely discern the outlines of narrow openings to the far left and far right of her field of vision.

Where am I? she wondered. The last thing I remember is swimming… in some ice-cold water… I cut myself… and returned to elven form.

Selana winced as she remembered the hideous gash in her left arm-she had fainted from pain and exposure to the elements. She was surprised to realize the wound no longer ached. Had she been unconscious long enough to heal? She tried to touch the wound, to explore its extent, but discovered she could not move her hands.

Only then did Selana become aware of the feel of cool, weighty metal on her wrists. She saw that her arms were gripped by manacles on two-foot lengths of linked chain, attached to the rough pink granite walls. She had a hazy recollection of hallucinating about a stone minotaur, vibrant red veins defining its humanoid body and brutish bull's head. Had the creature been real? Something had brought her here. Where was it now?

Selana twisted futilely, relieved, at least, that the chains allowed her to stand. She wished to the gods she could make sense of her circumstances, but she could recall nothing after huddling among the rocks near the stream. Her injured arm was cured through some means, but every muscle in her body ached.

Suddenly the sea elf heard a heavy scraping, dragging sound from the narrow opening to the left, accompanied by low, guttural muttering. Her heart jumped in fear. With her hands restricted, she felt horribly vulnerable and cast about for a way to defend herself. All she could do was kick her feet, and not very far at that. The first syllables of a protection spell echoed through her mind, but she was too drained to remember the entire incantation.