[written down by Johana Passerin]
When they came to on the recliners in the Hall of the Moon, the white-masked figure who had previously accompanied them into dreaming was already waiting for them.
“How was your experience?” it asked obligingly.
“It exceeded my expectations,” Klaes replied.
The guide offered them a subscription or another booking at a discount, but they declined. It then offered a discount voucher for friends, or other procedures. Finally, it gave up trying and escorted them to the exit.
“I must also advise you that after this experience, we recommend treating yourselves to at least one deep, uninterrupted sleep. Otherwise, flashbacks may occur.”
“Thank you for the warning,” Klaes muttered. They stepped outside and were greeted by a bright square with blinking, color-changing signs. Loverd pulled them aside into a quiet spot where there was no danger of anyone listening. “That was truly an extraordinary experience! I didn’t expect that,” he said, as if it were obvious that the others shared the experience with him completely. “What shall we do now? Shall we go look for Talantius? Or try to help Vedrax? Perhaps I should first send my lady a message regarding the development of the situation. We have designated places for that where I can leave a note.”
“Vedrax helped us, so we should help him. But how do we get to the Inn without the coaster?” Klaes said.
“Fox will surely sniff out the way!” Loverd exclaimed and turned to Fox: “Could you sniff out the way home even here, in this dark city?”
Fox tossed her head, snorted, and set to sniffing.
They followed her through the city for about an hour. The neighborhood she led them to was familiar to Loverd. Old-fashioned streets, houses without blinking light signs. He realized they were approaching the shop where one of the agreed-upon places to leave a message for Lady Nazqawn was located. The neighboring house was a timber-framed building, perhaps an inn for travelers, but it had no signpost where they could read its name. It was narrower at the bottom, and each higher floor jutted further out over the street, shading it—which, of course, mattered little in Xalgon; life was lived more by night here than by day. Fox, nose to the ground, headed straight for this building. She stopped at the door, stood on her hind legs, and confidently grasped the handle with her front paws. They entered. Before their eyes adjusted to the darkness, Loverd whispered: “It’s strange, but right next to this place is the house with the agreed-upon spot for depositing notes that I planned to visit. Wait for me here a moment; I’ll pop over there.”
So they waited, inspecting the hall in the meantime. It had a low ceiling supported by massive carved beams that sagged under the weight of the house, yet appeared sturdy and durable. On the walls hung paintings of landscapes that in no way resembled Xalgon or the North. One of them even depicted the sea. A staircase led from the room to the upper floors, from where the pleasant and inviting clink of dishware and the sound of conversation drifted. When Loverd returned, Fox led them up the stairs to the first floor. At the end of the hallway was a small door. Klaes eagerly grabbed the handle, but it was locked.
Fox stood on her hind legs again and leaned both front paws against the door, and lo—a click of the lock sounded, and the door opened. They stepped into The Inn at the Three Foxes. The door shut behind them with a click. Here were corridors, staircases, lounges, fireplaces, rooms, nooks, dining halls, smoking rooms, and heaps of closed doors. They strolled through, soaking in the peculiar atmosphere. Suddenly, a tall, friendly-looking male figure came down the stairs toward them: the master of this place, The Master. Dignity, safety, and tranquility emanated from him. He gestured in greeting, then knelt and held out his arms.
“Fox! Long time no see!” Fox leaped into his lap and licked his face. They embraced for a moment. Then The Master stood up and looked at them with deep, calm eyes. To Klaes, they seemed brown as soil one moment, green as opal the next, then turquoise, then hazel. The Master possessed a very earthy presence, yet at the same time Klaes felt near him as though he had stood outside in a fresh spring wind for too long.
“It is a great honor when one of the sisters returns home!” he exclaimed. “Please accept an invitation to dinner, on the house, of course.”
“We accept your invitation gladly, but first we need to find a man here. He had a coaster as a sign; we gave it to him,” Klaes said.
“There are many such guests. People come and go. What did he look like?”
Klaes described Vedrax. “And he had a white crow with him!” Loverd added.
“Ah, yes, yes. He is here. Come with me!” He led them about thirty swords further, then ran down a spiral staircase and opened a door on the left. They found themselves in a lounge where Vedrax was dozing in a corner by the fireplace. The white crow raised a commotion, which woke Vedrax.
“You found the way!” Klaes exclaimed enthusiastically.
Vedrax looked confused. “Why, we saw each other barely a moment ago! Or was I only dreaming? How did you find me?”
Klaes explained how they had dreamed in the House of the Moon. “Loverd sent a message to Lady Nazqawn, and now we are awaiting a meeting with her. You are welcome to join us.”
“Yes. We must inform her of what happened,” Vedrax agreed. “Will she come here?!”
“That is a good question—how she will get here. This place is peculiar. I’ve been here once before, but it was in a different city. Fox is at home here. She thinks the key to the door of this house is the coaster you received from us. It led you here. If Nazqawn had it, she would surely come join us here,” Klaes said.
“You’re right. Without the coaster, the lady won’t find us. What if I took it to the drop box in the house next door?” Loverd pondered aloud.
“Be careful it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands!” Fox snapped.
“Your animal is right. Be careful!” Vedrax said.
“I am well aware that every step here in Xalgon could be my last,” Loverd said bitterly and asked Vedrax for the coaster. Vedrax pulled it from his bosom and reluctantly handed it to Loverd, who went to run the errand. When he returned, the table was already set. Jugs of beer stood among plates of richly decorated food, glasses glinted in the golden light of lanterns, and chairs were lined with soft furs. They sat down at the table. Fox had her seat at the head of the table and ate from a gold saucer. After dinner, everyone retired to rest. Beer loosened Vedrax’s tongue. He told the others about rescuing Talantius’s messenger from the fortress of the Xalgonian Knights. During this recap, it fully dawned on him that he had burned his bridges behind him.
Fox went for a walk around the house. She wanted to chat with The Master and, above all, visit her sisters. Scribe Fox was away traveling somewhere, but she found Barmaid Fox in the taproom, of course. They chatted contentedly, and the warmth of home poured new strength into Fox’s veins.
The next day they woke up pleasantly rested. The staff brought them refreshments and announced that a visitor had arrived to see them.
Before long, Nazqawn entered the room. Her hair was braided, she wore black leather attire, and she had a pack on her back. At her waist was a weapon. They greeted her respectfully, and she returned their greeting kindly but temperately. She looked tired. She asked the staff for local beer, and when she took a sip, she addressed them: “You chose the location for our meeting well. Vedrax, I am glad to see you. It has been a long time since we last spoke! We meet in a difficult situation.”
Vedrax bowed slightly. “We have news for you, brought by this lady,” he said, pointing to the white crow.
Nazqawn marveled: “Who is that?”
The crow on the back of Vedrax’s armchair shifted from foot to foot and rubbed against his cheek.
“What you now see in animal form was previously Talantius’s messenger,” Vedrax replied.
“So it is her!” Nazqawn exclaimed in astonishment. “She has undergone a great transformation.”
“Indeed. She fell ill with some contagion and was locked in the dungeons of the Xalgonian fortress. I attempted to cure her by administering the Elixir, but that only accelerated her illness.”
“And in this form, does she speak human tongue?” Nazqawn asked.
“Unfortunately no, but after her transformation she was briefly capable of testifying when we found ourselves in the world beyond the wall, where I also met these friends who were dreaming in the House of the Moon in the meantime. We learned from her that the Elixir thins the wall. The dose makes the poison. The Elixir apparently affects spacetime somehow. Talantius with his tower fell or landed near Svittynis.”
“So Talantius is alive!”
“Apparently yes, I hope,” Vedrax said.
“And that is all?”
Vedrax shrugged. “She said no more. And now she speaks not at all.”
“Interesting. The whole city has been besieged by a flock of ravens lately. And the messenger turned into a white crow. Is that connected somehow?”
“I have a theory,” Klaes spoke up. “We met a small raven from that flock. He called himself Shard. We encountered that flock several times on our way from Maghon. It originates from the Eternal Battle, and as far as we know, freed itself from the heart of the Free Land alongside the New Age.”
They explained to Nazqawn what Mirk was, and briefly described what had happened in Maghon, and how the New Age devoured Iacana, Arkon, and Viasse. They also mentioned how the Order of Pallas became worshipers of Mirk, who eats human flesh. Klaes sighed at the memory of Daran, who suffered so greatly from the loss of her city and her inability to help her people at the Mound of Bones.
“How is Daran faring?” Klaes asked.
“I led Daran to a safe place,” Nazqawn said, “along the old paths from Xalgon through the woods to the east, all the way to hidden Taulark. The local house of Anglras Santra welcomed her among them; they took her as their own even though she isn’t literally related to them. To this day, Arkonian customs still manage to amaze me. The latest news to reach me says that Daran sits with Findan Audonion and tells him her story and the stories she remembers from Arkon, so that the memory of the dead is not completely forgotten. Sudavan Angiras Kvanari then shows her the deeper secrets of Machuznatar’s staff so she may become its well-prepared guardian.”
Klaes exchanged a smile with Fox.
The Queen of Arkagant then turned to the Xalgonian. “What actually led you, Vedrax, to attempt treating that unknown illness with the Elixir?”
“I don’t know,” Vedrax admitted. “Perhaps tasting it myself thrust me onto a path of no return. The Elixir reveals hidden and true things.”
“So it revealed the truth that time and space around that woman are disrupted?”
“Most likely, yes. The cells in the fortress were protected by incantations, yet it affected her as she later described: the dose thins the wall. The walls became translucent, and those black ravens began forcing their way inside. They attacked us; they wanted to kill her.”
Nazqawn nodded her head. “Remarkable. And do you have any other experiences with using the Elixir?”
“Besides those instances when we used it for our own needs along the way, and it indeed helped us behold the true nature of the warriors of the New Age, we also tested it on Shard.”
“And what happened?” Nazqawn wanted to know.
“He grew larger and flew away,” Klaes replied and provided Lady Nazqawn with a description of their experiences with Shard.
“I don’t miss Shard one bit, personally. It’s great that he’s gone,” Fox chimed in.
Nazqawn looked around in surprise to see who had spoken. She fixed her gaze on Fox. “What bothered you about him?”
“He was hysterical and paranoid. Always showing off. Screaming, shouting, and afraid of something or someone. Something that allegedly wanted to hurt him.”
“I think he had good reason to be afraid,” Loverd deduced.
“He is a being of Chaos,” Nazqawn noted.
“That whole flock is likely a being of chaos,” Loverd said. “One evening Mirk was attacking the Horologium and clashed with what was most likely one of the Zilaths. We watched it through a telescope from the roof of the college building. By chance, his gaze fell upon me during it. I thought it burned the eyes right out of my head.”
Nazqawn listened to him and then turned to Vedrax. “What can you tell us about that?”
Vedrax reluctantly, as if hesitant, described his encounter with his father in his dream vision. “He told me they have a prisoner in the Horologium, kept locked up there so he does not escape and destroy Qurand. His imprisonment demands the blood of heroes—that is why my father willingly died a sacrificial death. A second such creature is reportedly outside, seeking to free the captive one. My father urged me to prevent it!”
“So the Horologium is not merely a machine, a memory of times before the order of years, but in truth a prison! Whom do the Lords of Xalgon need to imprison?” Nazqawn exclaimed, unable to hide her agitation.
“According to my father’s words, it is someone or something like Mirk,” Vedrax replied.
“This far exceeds not only your strength, but mine as well. I must pass the news along,” Nazqawn said, without specifying to whom.
“Please keep me secret as the source of this information,” Vedrax requested.
“Years of living in Xalgon have made me suspicious and taught me to value my informants. Have no fear that I would betray you. On the contrary—it is all too obvious that the Elixir contains a flaw. What if it is actually a weapon! If it thins the wall, then it can also thin the permeability of the walls of Qurand itself, and who knows what will come from the other side! Do you not suspect Talantius of double-dealing?”
“Not even in my wildest dreams. He wouldn’t be trying to warn us then, would he?!” Klaes countered.
“You acquired much information in a dream, so do not take dreams lightly. I am suspicious. Since our last meeting, I have also done a bit of research. I know you borrowed a book by your professor Zeilet. It is a posthumous edition of her final lectures. Sadat Mirlach published it on the grounds of Xalgon University. He acted on the initiative of Halit Altun and had a book printed that captures some of her last scientific works that were not published in Yller.”
“I know. I read it several times,” Klaes said, not understanding why Nazqawn had so abruptly changed the subject of conversation.
“That book is a forgery.”
Klaes looked surprised, but then his expression turned contemplative. “A forgery, you say? Why would they do that? Now that I reflect on it, certain things in the text didn’t seem right to me, but with all due respect to my professor, I didn’t dare contest them.”
“Altun has the true manuscript in his possession. I would like to obtain that manuscript, because I think it contains important information for our case,” Nazqawn said, and Klaes blinked in surprise.
“How on earth do you plan to do that?” Klaes asked.
“I will ensure that Altun is delayed in the auditorium after his lecture, and in the meantime, you will gain entry to his study and find the original of Zeilet’s text there,” Nazqawn replied with a smile.
“How simple,” Klaes gestured with a touch of hysteria. “I fear, however, that it is beyond our strength.”
“It would certainly be beyond your strength had I not provided you with assistance. I possess certain means. My husband lent me necklaces that cloak you. Their wearer appears completely ordinary, unremarkable. I often used them during secret missions here in the city.”
“Ech, very well. I would like to know my professor’s legacy in truth and beauty. In Yller, her late work was banned. I will go there and try.”
“You can count on my help as well,” Loverd said calmly.
Nazqawn turned to Vedrax. “And what about you?”
Vedrax nodded.
“Actually, I needed to ask you something. Did you touch that woman before her transformation into a crow was complete?”
“I wore gloves. But I am not certain whether any contact occurred in the thick of battle.”
“Because we have no cure. Aside from the Elixir,” Nazqawn said, looking meaningfully at the crow.
Vedrax shuddered. “All the more reason we must set out to find Talantius as soon as possible.”
Nazqawn stood up. “Thank you for everything you have done for our cause so far. For the investigation you undertook. If you agree, then, I will have the necklaces and cosmetics delivered to you here along with instructions on how you will carry out the operation. Altun keeps those notes in his study, which he and his assistant use daily. He likely doesn’t use lethal protective magic there… I won’t be able to participate in the operation in person. Afterward, bring the documents here. We will meet here.”
A silence followed in which all present affirmed their agreement with the planned operation with a solemn nod of their heads.
“You probably don’t have any necklaces or cosmetics for me, do you?” Fox chimed in.
“Don’t worry, I’ll have something for you too,” Nazqawn said, looking at Fox. Then she bade them farewell, leaving them to their ruminations on how they would enter Altun’s study.
“Nazqawn said Altun would be away when he has his lecture, and that she would delay him a bit longer after the lecture. But she didn’t tell us how we are to open the door. If we tried to break in by force, we would draw attention, no matter what disguises we wore!” Loverd mused aloud.
“I have keys,” Fox casually let slip.
“What?”
“Fox! Yes, they nickname you Keykeeper. But I’ve never seen a key on you. You have a key to Altun’s study?” Klaes asked, bewildered.
“Yes, I have the Key. I haven’t used it in a long time. There was no occasion. It is a key that opens any door.”
“And where do you have it?”
“It slumbers in the dirt of the inn,” Fox replied.
“And could you please exhumate it?” Klaes requested.
Fox smiled in her vulpine way and trotted off to dig up the key in the inn’s courtyard, where the Tree of Knowledge grew under stars so bright that their light cast a distinct shadow, and under its roots the Foxes kept various belongings hidden. Digging in the dirt brought Fox considerable pleasure. Then she brought it to Klaes in her mouth. He inspected it suspiciously. Had he looked at it through his spectacles, he would have seen many fateful threads, but shaking his head, he handed it to Loverd. “Why, it’s completely rusty!”
Loverd found a quiet spot in the Inn and polished the key there for several hours in the light of an aurán flame. Fox watched him restore the key’s shine.
Before midnight, a youth and a maiden arrived, bringing equipment for the company: a palette of cosmetics and necklaces that in appearance resembled collars more than anything.
“Our lady sends word that in an hour the place you are bound for will be empty. The dean will not return until three o’clock,” the maiden said, bowed, and departed.
They put on their makeup and disguises. Loverd didn’t need much makeup; he merely emphasized his undead appearance. Klaes disguised himself as a drab clerk from the study department, Vedrax as an old porter, and Fox, after putting on the collar, became a demonic cat. Thus arrayed, they set off for the University.
