The creature throbbed slightly. "I will say this one more time. The thing you called 'maynus' is me. Here in my home world, you see my true appearance at last."

"-Or perhaps Pteros dropped it by the pond when he caused us to teleport to wherever we are," Khisanth suggested as if the creature hadn't spoken.

"We didn't teleport here at all, did we?" Pteros asked the creature. "The maynus 'gated' us to the plane of elemental air, didn't it?"

"Yes…."

"I thought so," Pteros smirked.

"And no. I brought you to the plane of lightning. If s a plane of finite scope and tremendous energy, a 'quasi-plane' your wizards call it, which lies betwixt your world and that of ele shy;mental air. This haven where we can speak, and where you are safe from the lightning, is a pocket or bubble of elemental air."

Khisanth felt her patience run threadbare. "So what about my maynus?" she blurted.

Unperturbed, the creature continued. "I am an elemental being native to this plane. Millennia ago, I and others of my kind were taken against our will to your world on the Prime Material plane by the race known as nyphids."

Finally, something Khisanth could understand. "What do you know about the nyphids?"

"Everything. The very first of that species were the off shy;spring of a lightning elemental like myself and another ele shy;mental being from the neighboring quasi-plane of radiance. Being of two worlds, they belonged neither here, nor in the radiant world, and thus became our servants. Eventually they rebelled against their servitude and escaped to find a new

home for themselves. They settled on the Prime Material plane. But they didn't leave alone. With the aid of the magic we had taught them, they captured many elemental beings and took us along as the source of their magic. I was one such

victim.

"In your world, I was a slave, trapped inside my own form. Like a genie in a bottle, I could use my powers only to carry out another's orders. Unsuspecting of my true nature, you were also unaware of the many traditions and prohibitions regarding maynus use among the nyphids. Your carelessly worded request allowed me, after thousands of years, to finally return here, to my home.

"Unintentional though it was, you released me from bondage. As repayment I will return you to the Prime Material plane. Prepare yourselves."

Khisanth could hardly grasp all that the elemental creature had revealed about the nyphid's nature. What she did under shy;stand was that she'd lost her most valuable treasure. "If you truly are the maynus, your freedom has cost me a very valu shy;able and powerful artifact. We need to settle on a purchase price for your liberty."

The maynus darkened. "On the contrary, I have offered you something of inestimable value-passage back to your home. Take the word of someone who knows the pain of exile. You cannot leave this place unaided." "Now, look here-"

The elemental creature's attention became distracted to something outside their calm pocket. "There's Fraz, an old nemesis I haven't seen for an eon…." The elemental globe began to slip through the edge of the bubble. "We have a score to settle." With that, the creature disappeared.

"Wait! Don't leave us here!" cried Pteros, starting to follow. "Let it go. If s not going to help us," muttered Khisanth. The old dragon whirled on her. "No thanks to you! We could have been home by now if your greed hadn't gotten in

the way."

"My greed?" Blood pounded at Khisanth's temples. "Whose was it that brought us here in the first place? Tvly, what a nice

gem that is, Khisanth/ " she whined, mimicking Pteros. " 'If there's one thing I know if s magic' "

Pteros looked more smug than chastised. "I believe I told you more than once that I'd rather you'd left me alone to pol shy;ish my gems." He looked around sadly at the empty settings in his diadem and necklace. "Now I have nothing."

"So this is my fault?-Oh, never mind," Khisanth sighed at last. She was letting her temper and frustration control her. Khisanth closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing, drawing in long, slow breaths to calm herself. When the blood slipped at last from her temples and freed her mind to think, she said, "We've got to figure a way out of here." She opened her eyes and looked at Pteros. The older dragon was just short of wringing his claws, his eyes wide with apprehension. Khi shy;santh ventured, "What about teleporting?"

"Not powerful enough, I'm sure, to get us to a completely different plane of existence." Pteros scratched his wrinkled brow. "There is a gate spell, but I've never used it. I'm afraid I'm feeling a little too shaky to try it."

Khisanth knew it was hopeless to try to talk him into it. "We got in here, so there's got to be a way out. Didn't the elemental say the quasi-plane of lightning adjoins the plane of air? We'll just find that border and keep going until we find one that bumps into the Prime Material plane."

"I don't know___" hedged Pteros.

"Have you got a better plan? We can't just sit in this bubble forever." She peered anxiously around.

"I'd be willing to consider it," muttered Pteros, settling him shy;self as if for the long haul. "At least if s quiet in here, and we aren't likely to bump into Talon."

Khisanth's brow furrowed. She contemplated the ever-pre shy;sent lightning beyond the bubble. "What troubles me is that we're likely to bump into something far worse."

Chapter 12

Sir Tate Sekforde squeezed the shears. Snip! The last straggle of his pale mustache drifted to the rush-covered floor. Still peering closely into the polished brass plaque, the Knight of the Crown smoothed his whiskers against his upper lip. His mustache had grown back thicker, even a shade darker, in the year since the fire that had singed it from his face. He frowned at his yellow-tinged image in the plaque as three fingers traced the faint scars on his left cheek, white against his tanned skin. Tate hoped the nose of the woman who had forever marked him thus looked as bad. If she was even still alive…

It was Misham, the fifth day of the week, the one he had chosen for his holy day. It meant that as a candidate for the Order of the Sword, Tate could not do battle, earn profit, or speak harshly to anyone this day. He must also spend at least

three hours in silent meditation and prayer to Kiri-Jolith, the patron god of the Order of the Sword. Lore said Kiri-Jolith was twin brother to Habbakuk, who was the patron of Tate's current Order of the Crown. When, as Tate hoped, he became a Knight of the Sword, the meditation to his new patron would grant him clerical spells. Until then, Tate secretly felt that it served primarily to slow down progress on his task of rebuilding Lamesh Castle. Four hundred fifty miles away in his tower in Solamnia, the High Clerist of the knights, who would decide whether Tate was fit to wear the sign of the sword, might never see him violate the rule, but the god Kiri-Jolith would know. And so every seven days, Tate complied.

As ranking knight of Lamesh Castle, Tate stood alone, the last to rise in the modest barracks he shared with his men. Not one to stand on formality, he nevertheless donned the off-duty attire of a man of his social standing-green- and yellow-checked tunic, green hose, and soft-soled, rawhide shoes. Last, he draped a black silk baldric, made by his lady mother, from right shoulder to left hip to carry the sword he never went without, holy day or not.

Thoughts of his family threatened to sour Tate's already somber mood, so he strode from the barracks and into the inner courtyard. The knight headed for the bake house located farther to the west along the north wall. Though the day was supposed to be spent in fasting, Tate believed that even the god Kiri-Jolith could not expect him to pray with any fervor on an empty stomach.