"Do I tell you, dear Elf, how long we have waited for your return to us?" Trisahn asked Val’ha, a mixture of relief and alarm in his voice. He helped her to stand and handed her the scimitar she lost in battle. She could not see the Je-Roptile. "So long a time that we have only one candle left in my box."

"The creature put its poison into you and Tim," Thoryn added, "and when we had slain it, you both lay on the floor and did not move but for your breathing. We tended your wounds as best we could, put you both on Osravulin and tried to find our way out of this place, but crossed our tracks time after time. I grant you there is corrupt magic in this room that makes us travel in circles! But then an hour ago your healing-light took over your entire body and covered Tim’s as well. It brightened until Tim stirred and returned to us from his illness, the wound on his neck gone, and just some minutes ago the green-light around you was of such brilliance that we took you off Osravulin and laid you down here. We could not look at you directly – as bright as Terr’Sol you were! And your light brought with it not only your recovery, but we were able to see this place about us and discover its enchantment. It is not so large at all – behind me is a wooden staircase that leads to a door in the ceiling." Thoryn placed his hand on Val’ha’s forearm. "It is good to have you back."

Trisahn led them to the corner of the room where a crude wide stair ascended until it ended inches from the rafters. He lit to the top of the steps to look for traps. With his flame so high, a glint of silver beamed from under the stairs. Tim hobbled his way around to the source of the gleam and called to Osravulin, who plunged his head into the shadow and clamped his teeth onto metal, then withdrew with scraping protest a silver chest two by three feet in dimension.

Trisahn returned down the stair and ran his candleflame over the chest; it was marked with the letters of a language unknown to any of them and fantastic curlicues, vines and serpents, on its curved top and sides. The way the figures played off the light, they seemed almost alive, and only after staring at the silver box for some time did Trisahn check the latch, turning its key with slow diligence, threw open the lid and stood back with the others. Inside the plain silver interior was nothing but a drawstring sack, which Tim removed and shook, but nothing fell out. Trisahn pulled one of the chest handles. "This is a wonderful treasure, but I think we should leave it – its weight would encumber us too heavily."

Tim turned the sack inside out and back before tossing it into the chest. "What a pity," he said, then, "Oh!" Val’ha, Thoryn and Trisahn peered inside; a small eddy of light circled the bag, growing until it filled the chest with a variety of colors. The chest shook and a blast of light – a rainbow – shot out across the room and Val’ha could now see the other wall. Another rainbow, and another, and another, burst forth in all directions, filling the Je-roptile lair with a thousand prisms.

Hypnotized by the sparkling air, Val’ha was first to shake herself and proclaim, "Never such pure beauty have I witnessed in all my days on Terra."

Tim frowned. "It is tragic, Lady Val’ha, that we should leave it here with the demons." He went to close the lid.

"Wait, Tim." Trisahn scooped out the sack and loosened the drawstring before the boy closed the silver chest. "If I am correct, this is a keeping-sack. Here, pull it around." Thoryn pushed the chest onto its side and though the mouth of the keeping-sack seemed too small to accommodate its breadth, the chest just fit into the bag and Tim covered it down to the floor.

The keeping-sack collapsed as if it contained nothing. "What happened?" Tim asked with alarm.

Trisahn took up the drawstrings, pulled them shut and handed the sack to him with a laugh. "Dear boy, it is a keeping-sack. Whatever you put into a keeping-sack loses its size and weight." Tim peeked in and lifted the sack over and again, blinking his disbelief. "May we view this as an omen of good fortune for whatever reason you found it, but we must continue now, and the door above is the next part of our journey."

**

Trisahn easily released the locking mechanism and pushed the trapdoor back with a loud clap. Osravulin took awhile longer than the others to recover from the enchantment of the rainbow chest; the stairs accommodated him and when they reached the next floor, Trisahn closed the door and doused his tinder-candle. They stood in a hallway that arced both directions, its grey-stone walls hewn by Dwarves, and rising so far that Val’ha could not see the top, yet from somewhere high above came a soft light, like clear day.

Their rightward path ended in solid wall, and the trapdoor was gone when they returned to their starting point. Around the left passage, an opening led to yet another, but they continued on forward until it, too, came to an end. Val’ha remembered the Baroness’ words: "Friends, is a place of rounded walls and dead ends what you might call a labyrinth?"

"Or maze, or some such," responded Trisahn.

"Then I suggest this to be our new challenge," Val’ha said, heading back to the opening in the wall; the passageway offered two courses as before. "Do we go right as the Baroness instructed?" The others had no better answers, so they began their trek into the labyrinth, always keeping to their right. Val’ha hoped they would be out of the maze in short time, but the hours passed and the daylight faded into red-orange. "The day nears its end."

"I have less than one candle, flame only for another hour at best," Trisahn added.

"Could Osravulin carry the open chest? It would give us light," Tim offered.

"I do not think so, Tim," Thoryn said. "I fear from what I saw earlier that your poor donkey would be hard to move, so dazzled by the lights was he."

"Do you think that is why the chest was left under the staircase, for Aentfroghe to enchant the Je-Roptile?"

"It is my best guess, though it troubles me why Aentfroghe has not shown himself."

"Is he not the messenger of Terr’des?" Val’ha asked to Thoryn’s assent. "Including here and Terr’des, are there not several dozen realms that make up the heavens?"

"Yes, I see your argument, Val’ha. Perhaps he is nowhere near this realm and unaware of the little sparrow Carla that has come to nest in his gables."

"Or worse," said Trisahn, "perhaps Xorus’ little sparrow has received his blessing. I agree with Sir Thoryn that we cannot make use of the silver chest any more than I can blast my horn and not have all of the rocks and gods of this place come tumbling down upon us. But you, Val’ha – if you could make yourself glow, we would have all the light we need!"

"No more than you would I desire to do such a thing, but I have learned only to apply it for healing."

"I noticed a new ring upon your finger – and not just the trinket given to you by the High Wizarder. Does it flicker in the night?" Val’ha blushed; she wore her dream-ring with such indiscretion that no easy explanation would suffice now. She decided to share all that had been happening to her – the dream of the lavender flowers, the Ring of Ashley, the vision that brought the water-leaper scream to free the Sipsids spirits, and the puzzle of her father’s words. Tim’s eyes were still wide when she finished her story; the others did not speak for some time. "It is good that your power of keeping secrets grows strong."

"Oh, Trisahn, I could not tell you! It has been happening so fast…I am trying to understand myself. Forgive my secrecy."

Trisahn gave a weak smile. "Yes, dear Elf, yes."

"Val’ha, if you can go into your dreams and visions and bring back with you skills and gifts like this water-ring..."

"I know what you are about to say, Thoryn," Val’ha interrupted, "but I have neither controlled nor foreseen any of these happenings and I cannot simply conjure us a new candle or exit from this place!"

"Have you tried, sweet Val’ha?" Trisahn asked, only half in play.

"Have I – Trisahn, Thoryn, I do not know what is happening to me, inside me, or what is around the corner, as it were, and Trisahn, I cannot perform for you like one of King Joel’s monkeys!"

Trisahn lowered his head. "I did not intend you to take it that way, Val’ha. More it is that, like all of us, I do not know how or when we will get out of this place in the clouds, if that is where we are." His last words were little more than a frustrated whisper.

Thoryn patted Val’ha’s back. "This matter of your father’s riddle. Tell it to me again."

"It is straightforward to me, at least some of it. Did the High Wizarder not tell us that Xorus can possess not only willing mortals, but Elves as well?"

"Elves..." began Val’ha, coming to see Thoryn’s wisdom.

"The shadows you told me of, the dreams you could not remember," Trisahn said. "The night-swallower was..."

"Xorus himself was the night-swallower in your dreams!" finished Thoryn. "Your father was battling Xorus from the limbic realm all this time for your spirit, and won your fight, by your account. You did not have knowledge of this?"

"Xorus was trying to possess me?" Val’ha spoke the words, feeling their truth but too afraid to fully believe them. With such burden of sense, she fell to her knees and stared at the ground.

"Do stand, dear companion," Trisahn said. "It was good news brought you by your father, and so you should consider your dream well, not sadly. I only fear for all those of magickal blood who open themselves to Xorus’ evil." Val’ha felt weak, invaded and light-headed. That Xorus came entered her at all, and violated her dreams, made her nauseous, afraid and angry at the same time, and she sat in her crouched position for many minutes.

**

As Val’ha stood under the pale light of the stars and Night Moon, she noticed at the base of the high wall a twig of straw. She touched the stick, which did not rest on the ground, but just above, stuck in a crack she could not see. Pulling the stick from solid rock several more inches, she dropped it and felt the wall. "There is a groove here." She followed it upward until she reached above her head. Thoryn, Tim and Trisahn ran their fingers over the wall to find other grooves before Val’ha asked them to step back.

Moonglow covered the grey wall; upon staring at it longer, they saw the faint outline of a marked door. Trisahn breathed out. "A Dwarf-door. Val’ha, can you read the passage?"

Val’ha cleared some of the dust covering the Dwarven words: "Gryphi vlusyk’l vezi thryu n’quyv’rith." She leaned against the stone, tripped and fell through the wall into another hallway, wider than the last and heading in two directions, but no Dwarf-door she could detect behind her. A moment later the others walked through. "It read, ‘Come through, save your journey.’"

Thoryn chuckled. "Then it is lucky we followed you! Keep right, as the Baroness would instruct us, everyone. Watch for more of these moonlit doors."

**

The companions agreed to journey through the night, guessing the maker of the Dwarf-door to be more helpful than harmful. Tim drew from his pockets portions of two bread loaves that along with a short rest and wine from Thoryn’s flask renewed their vigor. During the course of the night they found only one other Dwarf-door, and it too promised to shorten their journey. When the first break of light yellow came over the high walls, Val’ha knew they would have to suspend hope of finding any more shortcuts through the maze, though part of her feared at least another day would be necessary.

"Brave hearts, let us take at least an hour’s rest," Trisahn offered; they stopped to nap and partake of the last of Thoryn’s wine and Tim’s bread. Val’ha noticed that Tim broke only the smallest portion for himself and was greatly moved by his generous spirit.

Several hours later, the journeymates rounded a corner where no light emanated from above. "Trisahn," Val’ha called softly, "use your last candle." He did so and led the others into a high-raftered, circular room. The floor was strewn with more straw and seeing it, she wondered what beast might be hiding in the many shadowed places Trisahn’s flame did not carry. Anxiously they paced forth, all hands on their weapons. Osravulin paused to snatch some straw and upon seeing his lack of any concern, Val’ha suddenly wanted to laugh.

She noticed a movement to their left. Trisahn pointed the candle toward a lumbering giant. Tim gasped, grasping Thoryn’s hand and tightening his grip on Osravulin’s ropings. Thoryn gently positioned the boy and his donkey behind him and began to unsheathe his sword.

"No," Val’ha told the knight. The giant stood, she guessed, twenty-five feet high. It had the body, beard and clothing of a Dwarf, and possessed a helmet with Dwarven markings on its head; the helmet was unusual, with a noseplate of extra width and a hole above it to accommodate the giant’s single eye. Horns protruded from the helmet, for the Dwarf giant had the head, tail and mane of a bull.

Val’ha kept her eyes on the maze-ogre, wondering whether to speak in Dwarf or the common tongue or at all. She proceeded past the giant, which growled, took a step toward them and brought from behind it a huge wooden club with spikes sticking out. Fighting her panic, Val’ha crinkled her eyes at Thoryn and Trisahn but they shrugged back their lack for any solution. It growled again and raised its head; Tim had stolen away from Thoryn toward the edge of the tinder-light. He held in his free hand the keeping-sack, opened the drawstring against the floor and lifted the bag. The Chest of Rainbows presented itself with the keeping-sack removed; Tim used his walking-stick to push the chest right, unlocked and opened it.

The Dwarf-bull gave a roar that echoed against the rocks of the circular room and aimed its mace at Tim and the chest when the first rainbow popped out and by chance extended its prism of colors to the monster’s breastplate; its eyelid lifted, bringing its entire face up, and the ogre lowered the club as two more of the rainbows spread across the room, and others, bathing them all in color. Where rainbows intersected, sparkles and new colors formed, and Val’ha found that she, her friends and even the ogre loosened the grips on their weapons, until the ogre dropped the mace to the floor and sat before the chest, gurgling like a baby.

Her spirits lifted at Tim’s solution, Val’ha questioned the beast: "Kui’ev quev-viu, aelev-mu syu aefth syx? What is the way out from here?" Without taking its eyes off the chest, the maze-ogre lifted its right hand toward the right wall and a rectangle of white-light formed as had the earlier Dwarf-doors in the maze. This door opened, however, to reveal a grey wall with another white-light door; and another; and another; and altogether thirteen doors scraped open, all outlined in white-light.

The enchanted Dwarf-bull lay down and closed its eye and within moments snored so loud it shook the Chest of Rainbows. Tim regathered it with haste, ruffled his enraptured donkey back to full consciousness and took the others past the monster and through the thirteen doors, each of which closed behind them as they raced through. "Good work, dear Tim!"

The last Dwarf-door opened into a grey-bricked room, at its opposite side a wide slab of shiny tin ten feet across, built so that it spiraled up and into a dark shaft going high and deep into the thick wall. Val’ha bent her head as far as she could to see into the shaft to little avail; the slightest waft of fresh air brushed her cheek. Trisahn placed his foot on the edge of the slab. "How do we – Val’ha!" In stepping onto the slide, he fell onto the metal and tumbled upward into the shaft, crying his friend’s names until they could hear him no more. Tim helped Osravulin’s front leg onto the slide as he did himself and they too whisked away as though by a great wind. Thoryn and Val’ha held to each other; he placed his hand on his sword, the two of them stepped onto to the upward slide and flew like quicksilver.

**

Thoryn and Val’ha knocked into each other several times, tossed about by the slide as they spiraled up through the grey-stone shaft. The slide circled into the shadows for nearly a minute before it spat them out onto the freckled marble floor of a palace hall. The others were unharmed and helped them to their feet and when Val’ha turned to investigate the slide, its aperture had vanished.

Alabaster walls rose tall past great rafters and curved inward to form a domed ceiling from which hung marvelous crystal chandeliers that flooded the hallway with light. Closed doors lined both walls, their wood Azimq’haadrin mahogany and their hinges, plating and handles sparkling gold. Small half-round tables rested between the doors, each festooned with all manner of scented flowers, their aroma refreshing Val’ha’s spirit and making her long for Mount Carias. Over each table long, narrow tapestries hung, some of Terran notables, others the gods of the House of Terr’des whose colors burst lifelike from their effigies.

Trisahn indicated one in particular as Xorus, and for the first time Val’ha gazed upon the god who created such pain in the lives of so many around her and for so many centuries. He was thin, in black pantaloons that ended at the knee, black stockings sewn with silver and black buckled shoes with pointed tips. He wore a black cape with raccoon fur over a white shirt that glowed opaline, its sleeves sewn with ermine.

Xorus’ hands were long and bony, and Val’ha counted on his fingers thirteen silver rings with opal inlay. A black pointed hat covered his shoulder-length white hair, and under his peppered white beard and moustache was a large opal pendant at the end of a silver chain. The demon-god’s skin was pallid, his nose long and his eyes black coals, bitter and narrowed. He stood against a backdrop of a burned forest and a pair of black two-headed hounds, fangs bared, sat on either side of him. "The dogs are his symbol, his empaths," Trisahn explained in lowered voice.

The hall went both directions – to their left it turned a corner and to their right, it ended at a goldleaf balustrade. Trisahn jiggled the knobs of several doors, all locked, and continued to do so on their way toward the staircase. At one door he waved his companions to join him; opaline light passed through its cracks. Trisahn’s eyes widened and he stepped back. "The sparrow’s nest."

Val’ha placed her hand on the door, feeling the steady vibration of Xorus’ corruption. She put her eye to the lock and peeked into the room, so aglow she could barely make out its details – it was appointed completely in white gold, from the walls to the bed in which lay a grey-haired Man with a flared nose, his hands resting on the golden sheets that covered him chin to foot. He appeared to be sleeping, and around his head, one of his hands and over an eye were bandages. "Feukpi."

Val’ha trembled for the fear that welled up inside her. She stood to test the doorknob, but Trisahn grabbed her hand. "Do not. Do not even touch it."

They decided to go downstairs. Getting Osravulin hoof by hoof down the sweeping staircase proved difficult, and the fretful donkey brayed along the way, filling Val’ha with concern they might be heard. At last the stairs ended; they proceeded down a short corridor decorated like the upper hall to an archway that led into a high-ceilinged room.

The octagonal room was laden with Terran treasures – fine-weave carpets from Azimq’haadrin depicting scenes of exotic animals and magickal forests; a shelved wall filled floor to roof with wines and liquors from all over the Ten Kingdoms; another wall of tapestries and paintings of gods, kings and nobles; mahogany, gold and silver satin sofas and chairs against the walls, each cushion covered by silk pillows in all sizes and shapes; and near the high-towered ceiling on each of the eight walls, stain-glass clerestory windows depicting various saints that dappled the daylight. "This must be the lair of a demon, so sinful do I feel in the presence of such mortal pleasures." Trisahn strode across the carpets to the only other door in the room, but it was locked.

"A beautiful trap," agreed Sir Thoryn. "Trisahn, can you loosen the lock?"

"I dare not try, Thoryn, I fear any solution I attempt would be worse than doing nothing. I cannot tell if this door is a trap, and further, I am unsure what lies beyond. Val’ha, what would you have me do?"

"I am in agreement with you, Trisahn, but we cannot simply wait for Carla..." Val’ha paused, sensing an ill-wrought pulse on the back of her neck. Her voice dropped. "Friends, we are not alone." Thoryn gestured toward the archway, where an opaline glow filled the short hall beyond it. The light strengthened in potency and two light-circled figures floated into the arch, one Carla and the other a younger Woman resembling her but in a pale brown dress.

"See, Inez!" Carla screamed with such voracity the wall of bottles trembled. "See these creatures! Kill them!" The witches flew apart and the companions scattered to different parts of the room. Trisahn dove behind a divan when Inez cast an orb of white-light at him, hitting the sofa and sending pillows, fabric, feathers and wood in every direction. She prepared another volley, giving Trisahn enough time to maneuver behind a chair, which she destroyed with equal precision.

A bolt of white lightning from Carla flashed across the sitting-room at Tim; he dropped to the floor and the lightning nicked the hindquarter of Osravulin, who began to kick and bray and buck about between the companions and the witches. "Do not care for the mule, daughter! Only the mortals!" Carla shot a shaft of lightning at Thoryn, which he deflected with his sword, and it ricocheted midwall into the shelves of liquor, exploding dozens of bottles in a shower of glass and liquids.

The sorceresses trapped Val’ha against the tapestry wall. From one side came Inez’s opaline fireball, from the other Carla’s white-bolt. Val’ha lifted her scimitar, but just as the light-weapons reached her, an image so pale she almost doubted her own vision rose from the carpet.

The wraith of Xorus absorbed the two lights and they deflected into each other, blowing up. Their booming impact sent Val’ha flying against the wall and onto one of the sofas, dumbfounded at Xorus’ intervention, hurt from her flight and breathless from having the wind knocked out of her.

Trisahn and Tim reached the wall of spirits and began throwing bottles at the two Women. The bottles smashed each time against the light-circles, their contents sizzling into steam. The constant volley kept the witches’ attention; their blasts, though slower and further apart, destroyed everything in sight as Trisahn and Tim dived hither and there. "Come, conjuress! Is this all you have?" Trisahn taunted Carla. She screamed and brought her hands together, crafting an electric snowball, but Osravulin had come around from behind and butted her with his head, knocking the witch’s ball from her hands and into the wall. Thoryn reached Inez and threw himself against her light-circle, pushing her forward as he fell to the carpets.

Val’ha sat still against the sofa, watching her companions fight; she tried to move but could not.. Xorus saved my life, her mind looped over and again. From high above a crash sent stained glass down upon all of them; the hippogriff they had met in the clouds burst through the saints’ windows and descended, its wings causing the tapestries to flutter like feathers from their fixtures. Val’ha’s head and body shook, painful, and she blinked, aghast that her willpower and wish for Ma’hadrin’s protection against the witches’ onslaught was not within her this time. But only a second later, amidst the falling tapestries, she grew hopeful when two teardrop sparks, red and blue, zipped down from the broken window, less so when they steered not to her but the crazed Osravulin, charging at Carla while she prepared another fusillade.

The sparks began to regenerate when they hit Osravulin’s back and he jumped and kicked to rid himself of them, dashing Inez across the floor. Carla flew over to help her. "Up, weak daughter!" Tim and Trisahn, their arms pitched to throw more bottles, stopped as the sparks grew to such intensity that flames now crackled across Osravulin’s back and to his mane, tail, legs, and finally his entire body. He ceased moving; Trisahn was too late to catch Tim, who dropped his wine and raced to Osravulin, halting several feet from the flaming donkey with sadness and puzzlement on his face.

Osravulin’s fire blazed many yards into the air, blue and red and purple until, with a final snap it burned off but for the red and blue sparks; they combined into a purple teardrop that arced across the room and into Val’ha’s chest. Even Carla and Inez paused in their battle, for what emerged from the fire was not the donkey Osravulin, but a grey steed many hands higher, with two enormous wings on its back. Osravulin whinnied and flapped his wings, bucked up his front hooves and paused long enough for Tim to grasp onto his mane and pat him.

The hippogriff, which had been holding its wingflaps midway down the wall, screeched in three tongues and careened at Osravulin, who bent to the floor to pull Tim down around his neck. Tim mounted his flying-horse and put up his stick to defend against the descending hippogriff; Osravulin stood, flapped his wings and shot straight up. The hippogriff crashed against the carpets, righted and shook itself, and took to flight again; Osravulin hastened Tim to the stain-glass windows near the ceiling. The hippogriff shrilled once more and lunged at Osravulin, who threw his body backward, dashed his hind hooves against one of the unbroken saints, whirled and flew out into the clouds. The hippogriff pursued them and they were gone.

Val’ha did not feel anything but the spark’s punch at first, then from the deepest recesses within her a throbbing grew until she felt movement return to her body and from her mouth came these words in the tongue of Humans:

"Dast! No!" Carla cast forth a tree of lightning that broke at the edge of the flying carpet; it continued to ascend through the dome until they could see both the clouds and blue sky, and they did not look back. Once out of Aentfroghe’s sky-palace, they could barely discern it from the clouds themselves; Carla charged out of the stain-glass tower with another of her orbs, which she summoned from the light-circle itself, larger than any before and aimed at the carpet.

It stung once more the edge of the rug, singeing Thoryn’s hand. He fell back and bowled Trisahn and Val’ha over; the carpet plummeted out of control down through the white and in seconds Flooher’ty Sea appeared and approached, their path headed straight toward a ship. "Grab the borders and pull up!" Val’ha commanded, and in doing so they at least steadied their head-on descent into the sea. The carpet zigzagged down like an autumn leaf; they cleared the ship by some distance, desperate in their attempt to steer the magickal rug.

It hit with a firm splash almost parallel to the sea, and started taking on water almost immediately. The three companions fell off it in different directions, and Trisahn called Val’ha’s name before she lost her grip on the rug and slipped beneath the water. She began to panic, for she could not swim, but less so when the amethysts on the Ring of Ashley glowed purple and she could breathe. In the next moment, Trisahn dived to catch her hand and brought her sputtering to the surface.

The carpet was sunk. Thoryn bobbed near them, and the three came together in the vastness of Flooher’ty Sea. His hair wet over his eyes, Trisahn clasped Thoryn and Val’ha so that they all three held tight to each other. "Well," Trisahn said, spitting out water, "that was one way to go!"

Thoryn and Val’ha, relieved, laughed with him, and a shadow over Val’ha’s shoulder was accompanied by the rich, merry voice of a she-Dwarf; the vessel Dwarfkeep, in full sail and complement of Dwarf, half-Dwarf and Short Elf crew, approached. The Dwarf, ruddy and freckled, with a great mane of red hair, short red beard and in red leather mail poked her face over the edge of her ship.

"Ahoy, Humans! And an Elf, mind you, Tarnac!" she called back to one of her crewmates. One of the Short Elves, brown hair and eyes and a bulb for a nose, joined the Dwarf. "See here, dearest love Tarnac, she looks to be one of the tall ones, too! Hail, sweet cloudlings from the sky, the three of you! Did your carpet take on a bit of water?" The she-Dwarf, Tarnac and many of their crewmates who had come to ogle joined in her heckling, and Tarnac threw a rope to them. Come! Come tell Tarnac here and Captain Flegretha how the gods brought not rain but the precious three of you from on high!"