"Thank the gods those tests are over with," Shandra grumbled. "My grandfather really liked his privacy, a little too much if you ask me," she said, eyeing the very ominous entrance with the imposing iron golem standing nearby. "Now comes the really fun part." The farm girl shuddered. "Got to spill some of my blood. Are you sure we're ready for this? If it was this hard getting in, who knows how long it'll take to get back out?" Shandra asked.

Marcus rubbed his beard in thought. "We're ready as we'll ever be. We need answers only your grandfather can give, though I suspect getting to him won't be as easy as walking through the front door. Only do this if you're ready, Shandra," he said, indicating the pedestal.

The farm girl smiled weakly. "Alright... I mean, we've come all this way, right?" She paused. "Watch my back in case this summons something bad." Shandra withdrew a dagger and pricked the tip of her finger which she then held over the pedestal, and waited for a few drops of blood to fall.

Almost as soon as a drop of Shandra's blood hit the pedestal several things happened at once. There was a blinding flash of light, and the sound of the heavy metal door barring their way opening, and Neeshka visibly squirmed, looking pained, but most worryingly of all there was no sign of Shandra.

"What in the hells just happened?" Khelgar bellowed. "Where's Shandra?"

"Just as a guess, stumpy, she's been teleported somewhere within Ammon's Haven," Neeshka replied. "When Shandra opened the way, the magical barriers shielding this place dropped momentarily, and I can tell you there's a whole mess of lower planes magic, which means there's going to be devils and demons waiting for us." The tiefling didn't look too pleased about that prospect.

"Oh, wonderful," Marcus muttered. "Looks as though Shandra was right. It is worse."


In the heart of the Mere of Dead Men, deep underground paced the being that had once been the Luskan mage Black Garius. However the only thing to link him to his former life was his voice, for now he was now a Shadow Reaver.

Reaver Garius turned suddenly as he heard the Reaver he'd sent to destroy the Statues of Purification arrive. "You have returned... and you have been wounded." he asked, curiously, raising a non-existent eyebrow.

"Yes, milord Garius... the Harbourman, the one who disrupted our ritual at Crossroad Keep, he hounds us still. Let me gather my strength, and then I..." the injured Reaver replied, frustrated.

"My only concern is the Ritual of Purification... as it should have been yours," Garius snapped coldly. "Are the statues intact? Can the ritual still be performed?

The injured Reaver seemed to hesitate uncertainly. "The Harbourman was able to finish a portion of the Ritual, milord. But by itself, it is not enough to stop us."

"By itself?" asked Garius angrily. "Explain."

"When I arrived at the ruins of Illefarn another had come before the Harbourman and I," the injured Reaver explained. "I was able to destroy the statue that granted the fifth part of the ritual but someone completed it before I could stop them." The Reaver paused. "And I do not know who it was."

Garius folded his bony arms. "I see. So it seems there is another player in this war. It is no matter. Once we slay the Harbourman, then the future for our King is assured."

"Milord Garius... the Harbourman is stronger than before. He cannot destroy us, yes... but in battle, he may be a match for any of us."

"Indeed? He may be able to challenge one of us, but not all of us, I think," Garius said smugly, as behind him could be seen three other Reavers.


Mephasm smiled slightly on seeing Marcus. "Greetings, my friend," he said, surprised to see the harbourman as he knew only one of Jerro blood could enter the haven.

Neeshka scowled. "Not this guy again," she muttered.

"Ah... Neeshka. You came at last," the pit fiend remarked. "Somehow though, that does not surprise me."

The tiefling's scowl deepened. "You don't sound surprised to see me... or us," she said.

Mephasm simply grinned. "My dear, if Baator teaches one anything, it is that everything has happened countless times before... and the resolutions are just as predictable. And blood does attract blood, after all... there is power in such things."

Neeshka narrowed her eyes at the pit fiend as she didn't like the sound of that at all, not with her mother turning up so suddenly. Wonderful, this is where I find out who dear old gramps is, she thought darkly.

"Well, it's good to see a familiar face here," Marcus said with caution, as he'd seen the dark look pass over Neeshka's face.

"As I am pleased to see you. Unfortunately, this is not the best of circumstances," the pit fiend explained. "You find me bound once more against my will. This time my cage is larger and more secure." Mephasm waved a hand at the circle in which he stood.

"I find it convenient that you're here in Ammon Jerro's Haven," Marcus said flatly.

Mephasm raised a fine eyebrow. "Ah, so you've figured some of it out, have you?" he asked. "I had wondered if you would. If you're implying that I have been less than honest with you, you are correct. Jerro is the master of Zaxis and I, as well as the others here. It was Jerro, not the githyanki, who summoned me to the caves. Should Zaxis have failed, I was to keep the githyanki bottled up at the portal."

"Ugh... Zaxis," Neeshka muttered under her breath, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

The pit fiend hid his smile at the tiefling's reaction to the demon, as it was much the same as his own. "When you arrived, I saw a way to escape my bonds. However, I suspected you would not help me if you knew who held my reins, so to speak. Unfortunately, shortly after my escape, Jerro found me again, and this time he ensured my bonds were unbreakable," Mephasm explained. "Only Ammon himself could free me... or one who is a blood descendant. Such a person could command the power of this place."

"Shandra is Ammon Jerro's granddaughter," Marcus replied.

Mephasm arched an eyebrow. "I had wondered how you were able to enter this place, and one of the Jerro line still lives. But if you brought Shandra here, where is she? I do not see her among you."

"She disappeared as we entered this place," Neeshka said, sounding worried.

"I see. You must find her." The pit fiend spoke with urgency. "She is in great peril here. I will help you as I am able. I do not know where Shandra is, but I hope she will find her way to me before encountering the other demons and devils here."

"Can you tell me anything about the other fiends?" Marcus asked, concerned.

"I can tell you of two," Mephasm said. "There is Blooden, a leader among the succubi. She is as violent as she is seductive, so be careful. The other is Baalbisan, a balor so confident in his power that he does not bother to surround himself with minions like the others. He especially scorns the presence of females," the pit fiend said, looking at Neeshka and Elanee. "Most of the demons and devils here use their minions to fight each other, though such activity is pointless. Trapped in these summoning circles, they cannot be harmed, nor can they harm each other."

"If it's pointless, why do they fight?" Khelgar asked, confused.

Mephasm smiled. "The small scuffles in this place are just smaller aspects of the Blood War. It is the ultimate conflict of law versus chaos, between the Nine Hells and the Abyss. Though the battles usually take place in the gray waste of Hades, the Blood War can occur anywhere that demons and devils converge. This place exploits the strife between demons and devils. Great energy is created by the constant tension between opposites here, and that energy is harnessed to empower Ammon Jerro."

"You know, I thought this place was supposed to be a retreat for a court warlock," Neeshka said, frowning.

"Whatever it may have been before, it has been transformed into this... prison," Mephasm said. "If you ever wish to leave this place, you must get into the laboratory which lies at the centre of this area. It is possible for me to subvert the portal's power to allow it to do other things, like take you into the laboratory, but my power alone isn't enough," he said, pointing to an inactive portal on the other side of the room. "You must convince three others to help you. That will be no easy task, as the other fiends here may attempt to thwart or manipulate you."

"Oh, just what I want to be doing, asking the lower planes for help," Marcus muttered. "How can I convince the others to help?" he asked

"There is no simple answer to your question. The other fiends here will be... reluctant to help you, unless it serves their interests," Mephasm admitted. "But you are in a unique position. You may roam these halls with relative freedom while they are trapped."

"And that means what, exactly?" Neeshka asked with a scowl.

"The demons and devils continue their age-old battle even here, pitting their minions against each other. Putting one fiend in a compromising position may convince another to help you," Mephasm said as he made part of the portal active. "I've done what I can. Go quickly, and be on your guard."


"It steps forward to let me see it more clearly," the large demon demanded as it became aware of Marcus and his party.

The harbourman raised an eyebrow. A demon with poor vision? Interesting, he thought.

"Huh, a balor demon. Be careful, harbour boy, one wrong answer, and we won't get to ask another question," Neeshka said, gazing up at the huge creature. "Just stay calm, don't let him get to you."

The balor sniffed the air, and then growled. "What is this thin-blooded thing I hear, its flesh reeking with the stench of the baatezu?" the demon asked. "Is it female? It must be, it is too weak to be otherwise."

Khelgar, Elanee and Sand all groaned inwardly as they knew that Neeshka wouldn't let that insult slide. They looked to Marcus who had his head buried in his hands. It seemed he was resigned to the fact that things were about to go south.

Neeshka's eyes flashed dangerously. "Weak? Weak?!" she cried. "That's a laugh, saying that, while I'm out here and you're trapped inside that summoning circle, you half-witted tanar'ri hindlicker!"

The balor snorted with contempt. "It thinks bold words make it superior? It is a small drop of evil, a random and hissing bloodfly only... weak as a baatezu, weaker as a female," he snarled.

"And how did you get here?" the tiefling asked, her temper all but gone. "Did they lure you in with the promise of a dozen goblets of blood on a silver platter of horse entrails?! If so, I hope that circle fits you nice and tight, you bone-gnawing, ichor-drinking glutton!"

Marcus chuckled at his lover's nonsensical tirade, as there was some truth to it. "My friend has a point, you know, tanar'ri." This must be Baalbisan that Mephasm told us about, as he doesn't seem to like Neesh at all, the harbourman thought.

Neeshka grinned evilly. "Ha! So there, thinking you can be mean and yell at me about being weak, when you can't do anything but talk!"

"The half-breed, it is obvious, but it who orders the half-breed..." the balor asked.

"I do not order Neeshka, demon," Marcus growled.

Baalbisan didn't seem to notice the implied threat. "It has a pip-squeaky voice, so much like a female, but also like many of the lesser mortal races. Is it female?"

The harbourman rolled his eyes. "No, I'm not female, you idiot."

"But it looks so female. How can I be certain?" the balor asked.

Marcus rubbed his beard in thought for a few moments and then grinned. "Well, I suppose I could show you. Stand back, though, I think I'll need a lot of room."

Baalbisan raised his eyebrows. "It offers to reveal its parts, but my vision is not what it was. I doubt I could make out something so diminutive," he laughed.

"Them are fighting words," Khelgar hissed softly, hefting his war axe. The dwarf would see to the removal of the demon's parts for insulting his friend's manhood.

"Hey!" Neeshka cried, indignant. "That's not nice, and from what I've seen, I can tell you it's not small at all," she said, defending her lover's manhood.

"The female baatezu shall be silent in my presence! Her stench is more than I can bear!" the balor roared.

"Neeshka can say whatever she wants, demon, and you shall be silent in my presence!" Marcus replied, getting severely annoyed with Baalbisan.

"It leaves now. I will not stand its presence. Do not anger me..." Baalbisan cried in anger.

"Oh, well, too bad for you then, because we're staying right here and there's nothing you can do about it," Marcus replied, taunting the demon.

"Rrrrrghh! My memory is longer than a thousand of its lifetimes and my wrath is legion!" Baalbisan roared.

"And yet there you stand, trapped in a summoning circle with no escape," the harbourman casually pointed out.

"So, does this mean you can't ever forget that I insulted you?" Neeshka asked, rubbing her hands together in glee. "I like the sound of that."

"Bethshiva take it! I will see it suffer for its insolence!" Baalbisan cried. "Curses, even the sound of my matron's horrid name drives me mad! Oh, Bethshiva, may the tanar'ri females bind you for their pleasure..."

Sand blinked in surprise. "Well, well, you're not very bright, are you?" he murmured. "Marcus, it would seem we have the True Name of this demon's matron. With it, I think we have something that another within these halls may want," the wizard informed the harbourman.


"My sisters, what have you brought me? A diversion?" asked the erinyes within the summoning circle gleefully.

"Mortal trespassers, dearest Hezebel. They come from Baalbisan," one of the erinyes replied.

Hezebel arched an eyebrow. "So... Baalbisan has enlisted a lesser species to do his bidding. Tell me, what task did he set for you?" she asked.

Marcus almost smiled. "No task, not after we upset him, quite spectacularly I may add. I'm trying to warp the portal," the harbourman explained, nodding towards said portal, "with the help of the fiends imprisoned here so that it takes me into the laboratory."

"What a bold and interesting idea," Hezebel said, clapping her hands. "Yes... I believe I can help you with your plan. I have heard that when you upset Baalbisan, really infuriate him, he will blurt out the True Name of his abyssal matron, like it is a curse. I would know this name." The erinyes then smiled her most winning and seductive smile. "You will discover it for me, of course."

Neeshka had to stop herself from gagging at such a cheap ploy, one if she were honest she had used more than once.

The harbourman just grinned. "The charm isn't necessary," he said, making Hezebel pout. "The True Name of Baalbisan's mother's is Bethshiva."

Hezebel frowned. "Hmmm... interesting. That is rather short for a True Name," she said.

"Are True Names supposed to be longer than that?" Marcus asked.

"Oh yes, much longer. True Names are supposed to be very long for beings of great power, as I would have thought a balor's matron would be," Hezebel said thoughtfully. "Perhaps that is Baalbisan's great secret... that his mother is a lesser fiend. You have supplied the information I requested, so I will fulfil my end of the agreement. I shall assist you in your quest to enter the laboratory." So saying, Hezebel made another section of the portal active. "Goodbye, my sweetling. You've been such a pleasant diversion." The erinyes waved cheerfully, far too cheerfully for the harbourman's liking.


They hadn't long left Hezebel's room when Marcus stopped suddenly in the hallway. "Can you hear me?" Shandra's voice echoed in the harbourman's head.

"What the... Shandra?" Marcus asked, surprised.

"Yes, it's me. This place is sealed by demons... and devils. But listen... they say that their lord is unbeatable," the farm girl said.

"No, I'd never have guessed that, Shandra, and we are talking about devils and demons. They aren't likely to tell you the truth if you ask, they'll tell you want they want you to know. Also, this is your grandfather we're looking for. He might be a very powerful warlock but he isn't unbeatable. Stay where you are, we're going to try to get to you," Marcus replied, hoping the farm girl would actually do something right.

"I don't think we can get to each other yet. I've tried, this place is... difficult to figure out. Be careful. I don't think they were lying about this," Shandra said.

"Shandra...? Shandra...?" Marcus asked. "Oh blast it," he muttered, realising he'd lost contact with her.

"What happened, lad?" Khelgar asked, concerned.

"I heard Shandra in my head, she's somewhere else around here," the harbourman replied, frowning. "I've also got a horrid feeling she's going to do something really, really dumb."

"This isn't going to end well for the farm girl, is it?" Neeshka asked, worried.

"No, I do not believe it will," Sand confirmed gravely. "All we can do is hope to control the damage done."

Marcus sighed. "Why do I get all the easy jobs?" he wondered. "Come on, let's see if we can find Shandra."


The next captive in Ammon's maze of death was the harbourman's old friend the demon Zaxis, who was so happy to see him that Zaxis sent some of his lesser brethren against Marcus. The demon refused to help, but that was no real surprise. They next encountered the pit fiend Kouraboros who, unlike Mephasm, was in his true form. The pit fiend's task was fairly simple and easily completed and Kouraboros, like Mephasm and Hezebel before him, held up his end of the agreement. Lastly they came to the succubus, Blooden. Her task was again straight forward even if Marcus found it really bizarre and very macabre, for it turned out that Blooden enjoyed nothing more than watching her minions getting torn to pieces by Kouraboros' hell hounds.

Blooden smiled but it was anything but pleasant. "I do so enjoy that, it really gets the blood flowing," she said. "Now that you've entertained me, mortal, you can ask me anything, within reason."

Well, I won't be asking for you for a kiss, the harbourman thought. "Who are you?" he asked.

The succubus raised an eyebrow. "You haven't heard of me? That's disappointing." She almost sounded hurt.

"All I know is that your name is Blooden," Marcus replied.

"I suspect I know who told you that much at least," the succubus said, sounding annoyed. "I am Blooden, mistress of the Deep Crest, the breeding grounds of the Abyss."

"Breeding grounds?" Neeshka asked, trying to keep the curiosity out of her voice and failing badly.

"Are you sure you want to know, Neesh?" Marcus asked, concerned.

"No, but if there's a chance to know something, I'm taking it," the tiefling replied.

"Oh, yes, I am the mistress in charge of arrangements, and seductions, and the chase and the catch and the mating and the slaying. Very little escapes my eye, but here... my sight is limited." Blooden smiled, her eyes sparkling. Perhaps there is some entertainment to be had, she thought. "I have the power to trace heritages, blood lines, all along the great barbed tree that divides us all, from the most full-blooded of the lords to lowest half-breeds." The succubus paused, studying Neeshka. "A half-breed such as you, little one... my, I can even see from the slope of your horns and the curve of your tail the twisting path of your breeding. Such an odd combination... what was its purpose, I wonder?" Blooden asked, looking thoughtful.

Neeshka snorted. "Like I care," she said, though it didn't sound convincing even to her own ears.

"Oh, of course you don't... but I think one of your bloodline would care very much, especially under the circumstances," Blooden replied, for she knew that the tiefling was lying.

"What do you mean, Blooden?" Marcus asked, short of demanding an answer.

The succubus smiled a little. "There is a smell in the air, a common blood. I suspect one of her ancestors is here, a distant father, maybe? But who knows?" Though Blooden knew who Neeshka's ancestor was, she wasn't going to tell the tiefling or her human lover. Where was the fun in that? "He would have to be quite stupid to sire one such as her and risk diluting his bloodline... but there are many such dim-witted ones who are ruled by their parts and not their minds." What puzzled Blooden was that she knew Neeshka's grand-sire was anything but dim-witted so there was some sort of plan, though the succubus had no idea what that might be.

"Stupid, in what way?"" the harbourman asked.

Blooden shrugged. "There is no gain in such a thing, to have a bloodfly such as her as a descendent. She could never achieve any true status in the Lower Planes. Then again, at least she would not have to bear the indignity of being bound as we are. Still, it is a minor advantage only."

"As long as you're in there, and I'm out here, that's fine by me," Neeshka shot back angrily.

Blooden's eyes flashed with contempt for the tiefling. "Yes... how odd our status is reversed in your backwards realm. But you bore me, half-breed..."

"So what do you know about my bloodline? Or are you just pretending to know something, like the rest of the tanar'ri here?" Neeshka's tail swished in agitation, and Marcus put a hand on his lover's shoulder to try and reassure her.

"Such a fiery little minx. I can see why he likes you so much," Blooden replied, her eyes full of malice. "But I'm not the one here that you should be asking."

"Then who should we ask, demoness?" Marcus demanded.

"Oh, I'm not going to make it that easy for you," Blooden laughed. It was a chilling sound with no real humour in it.

"There are only three baatezu here, dear boy," Sand murmured. "I should think it was obvious, since we can eliminate the erinyes."

Marcus frowned. That left Mephasm and Kouraboros, and he wasn't sure which one was the worst choice. "Fine, be that way, we still have to confront Ammon Jerro. That's going to go well, I'm sure," he said to Blooden as they walked toward the now active portal that would take them to the laboratory.

"Oh, I do so hope you survive the encounter. He's not known to be that receptive to visitors," Blooden called, laughing coldly.


"Sir Nevalle, what brings you to Crossroads Keep?" Kana asked, all flustered at the sudden arrival of the captain of the Nine.

"Where is the squire, Lieutenant Kana?" Nevalle asked. "Lord Nasher requires his presence in Neverwinter."

"He isn't here, Sir Nevalle. As I understand it, he left in search of Ammon Jerro's Haven, wherever that might be."

The captain of the Nine frowned. "I see, then he will no doubt be quite some time. I shall remain here and await his return."

"Very well, Sir Nevalle, I shall have a room prepared," Kana replied. "If I may ask, why is the squire being recalled to Neverwinter?"

Nevalle couldn't help but smile despite his earlier misgivings. "Why, to attend his own knighting ceremony. Something he is not to know about," the knight added.

Katriona walked slowly over to the lieutenant, looking stunned. "By the gods, Kana, he's going to need his own company now," she said after Nevalle had left the Great Hall.

Kana sighed. "I know, Kat, it's a good job you've been working on the idea." The two women had become friends once Kana had learned to relax a little. "Do we have enough to form the captain's company?" she asked.

Katriona smiled. "More than enough, no shortage of people wanting the assignment. Captain Ballard is more than willing to command it. His men are ready and able, as are Sergeant Dobbson and his men. By the time Marcus returns from Neverwinter, we'll have a full company, and our overall unit strength won't be affected that much."


"Ah, that would the alarm... no doubt warning the inhabitants that there are intruders that need to be violently dispatched," Sand said sarcastically, as no sooner than they had stepped into Ammon's lab than they had tripped some sort of magical ward.

Within a few moments, there was a blinding flash of light and there stood none other than Ammon Jerro, looking very annoyed. "Intruders... unbidden and unwelcome. Are you prepared to pay the price?" he asked angrily as he advanced menacingly.

Marcus let out a sigh. "So we meet again, Ammon Jerro," he said. The harbourman was so used to being threatened he just took it in stride.

That made the warlock stop short. "You! The one from Neverwinter. How you entered this place is a mystery, but it was a mistake... one which will soon be..." Ammon let his voice trail off as he sensed something. "Why, you have brought gifts. You carry the shards... and one is even lodged inside you. Interesting." The warlock smiled a truly sinister smile. "Let me take them off your hands... and from your corpse." So saying, Ammon raised his hands as if he were about to cast an incantation.

Zhjaeve, who had been all but invisible until now, stepped forward. "Know that if you slay the Kalach-Cha, Ammon Jerro, then the King of Shadows has already won, for only the Kalach-Cha can wield the broken sword of Gith and defeat the shadow that hides in darkness," she warned.

Ammon lowered his hands, thinking, as he recalled Mephasm telling him something much like what the githzerai had said. "This changes things," the warlock mused. "But how did you enter this place?"

"You can't beat him. The only way to do it is to free the demons, they're granting all his power." Marcus heard the farm girl in his head.

"Shandra, we're not even fighting. What's going on?" the harbourman asked, worried.

"There's a way to stop him... but it's going to require some blood being spilt... mine," Shandra replied.

"Shandra!" Marcus yelled. "Do not set those demons free, that's what they want!"

"There's no way I'm letting you die, not after all we've been through," the farm girl said as her voice faded.

Marcus looked the warlock in the eyes. "You're about to find out how we were able to enter your Haven. You aren't the last Jerro. There is one other and she's about to do something monumentally stupid."

Ammon blinked. "The family survived?" he asked, not wanting to believe what he had just been told. The warlock suddenly staggered. "What... is... happening?" Then he realised with horror what was going on. "No!" Ammon yelled before he vanished in a flash of light.

"That wasn't anything good, was it?" Neeshka asked.

"No, it wasn't. Come on, Shandra needs saving from herself, again," Marcus said as he turned and ran through the portal. They emerged on the other side where Blooden had once been, but the summoning circle was eerily empty. "It figures we'd be at the wrong end," the harbourman muttered.

"The fool girl," Sand hissed on seeing the empty summoning circle.

"Let's hope we're not too late," Marcus said as he took off at a dead run through the now empty halls of Jerro's Haven.


"What you have done is brave, but foolish, Shandra Jerro," Mephasm said as the farm girl collapsed in a heap in front of the pit fiend.

There was a flash of light as Ammon arrived. Shandra had barely time to recognise her grandfather before he was on her, dragging her to her feet. "You, girl. You did this," he said angrily, waving his free hand at Mephasm's broken summoning circle.

"My friends... are they..." Shandra whispered.

"Yes, your friends live. But you will not," Ammon said, rage filling him as he blasted Shandra. "You destroyed my summoning circles. You set the deadliest creatures in the Lower Realms free. You have weakened me... and in so doing, you have earned death." So saying, he blasted her again.

"I know... grandfather... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." Shandra said, her voice becoming weaker and weaker. Is this what's like to die? she wondered as her world turned black.

"Grandfather? What is this?" Ammon asked angrily, looking at Mephasm, slightly surprised.

"It is truth, Ammon. And by such truths is one damned," the pit fiend replied coldly.

"I have no kin. All were killed in the war against the King of Shadows... it's not possible," the warlock said in disbelief.

"Blood finds a way, Ammon. Always," Mephasm replied, shaking his head. As if to prove his point, at that moment Marcus and Neeshka rounded the corner, coming to a sudden halt.

"You lie!" Ammon bellowed. He couldn't believe the truth.

Mephasm sighed. "You know only Jerro blood could have broken the circles in this haven... as her blood has now broken mine," the pit fiend said as he began to fade away. "There are laws, Jerro. And when one carries such laws too far, they will take you where I go now."

"It looks as though I won't be getting the question of my bloodline answered," Neeshka said softly. "Is Shandra...?" the tiefling asked. She didn't want to say 'dead'.

"I don't know, Neesh," Marcus replied quietly. He signalled for Elanee and Zhjaeve to take a look at the farm girl.

Ammon let out a sigh as he turned to face the harbourman. "Just a girl... and the last of my line," he said, looking down at the still form of his granddaughter. "But stay your weapons, your spells, lest this tragedy give birth to another."

Elanee looked up, her face full of hope. "Shandra is alive," she announced, trying to hold back tears. "She is very weak and we have done all we can. It is up to Shandra now."

"So she could still die?" Marcus asked.

"Yes," was the druid's reply.

Ammon didn't quite know how to react to this news. "In my blindness, I had thought I done a great wrong. Perhaps it is not too late to rectify it... and where one was almost lost, I still might save us all," the warlock said, looking around what was left of his Haven. "Only a fraction of power remains in my Haven... But it will be enough to take us from this place."

End of Book 2

Continued in Book 3: The Knight-Captain's Destiny