The Black Worm and the Beautiful Lilies

Why? Why did you have to do it? We could have just slipped out and run! There's nothing we can achieve here, and now we're going to be killed by this . . . thing!

Ariadne stared at the scholar. The mad woman still showed no sign of sensible terror, and instead stood there defiantly as though facing down an unruly puppy who had pissed in her slipper. Meanwhile the puppy in question, the spirit of Mannimarco the King of Worms, prepared to evaporate the little fool, and then undoubtedly proceed to do away with the rest of the hapless crowd in the chamber.

This ritual was about to turn into one giant ritual slaughter.

"What is this?" Mannimarco demanded. "An attempt at . . . humor?" It was as if he had to strain in order to recall the word.

"Leave this place!" Ariela cried. "You do not belong here!"

"Really? And you, child? Do you?" He grinned as if it were a particularly crafty trick question.

At least he hasn't yet immolated her, Ariadne thought. Then again he's probably simply toying with her, like a cat with a captive mouse. She glanced at Sissel. The older mage seemed at least as astounded over the scholar's stunt as her, if not more so.

"Ah!" Mannimarco said then, coming to an abrupt stop a few paces from Ariela. "But I know you!" He leaned in closer, yellow eyes gleaming as an inquisitive expression came upon his skeletal features. He spoke slowly. "Yes! It's been a long, long time, hasn't it? Hmmm, yes." The eyes seemed to study the air around the scholar. "The Wheel spins around you in most . . . curious ways. The probabilities . . . and the improbabilities. They myriad dimensions . . . the infinite Void! And I suppose that you are here to . . ." He paused, the light of comprehension coming over his regard. "Aah! But I can see that you've not yet—"

"I'm not interested in your evil lies!"

Mannimarco seemed genuinely taken aback by the woman's outburst. His scowl looked disappointed. "Evil?" he pronounced. "Yes, yes of course. Your kind and your primitive philosophies. Good and evil!" he spat. "I lament that you so persistently refuse to realize how the two are but manifestations of one and the same thing!"

As Ariela said nothing to argue with that, Mannimarco continued. "I, of course, have long since grown past such childish notions. All you need is to keep your eyes half open and it soon becomes abundantly clear what fallacy such a dichotomy truly is. Watch, really watch, history unfolding for a century or two, and you'll find that you can no longer suffer fools entertaining idiocies such as good. Such as evil! After all, there seems scarcely any limit to the extent of evil done by good people."

As Ariela yet simply stared at the raving apparition, he took what might have been a breath, if indeed he did any such thing as breathing, and went on. "But pray do not take me for someone wholly devoid of pity. I understand, believe me I do. You mortals need your comforting delusions. You depend on them, lest you perish of the truth! Well, I am here to offer concrete evidence that it doesn't need to be so. If the truth does not destroy you, why, it can deliver you! I am living proof of what fruit gazing into the Void can yield—if only you're strong enough. Overcome your fetters and you too may one day achieve freedom. So."

He turned his attention away from the scholar and to the bemused faces of the cultists populating the room. "Gaze upon me now, lowly ones. I, both destroyer and creator of values—for you cannot be one without the other! I have severed my ties with these lowly forms of existence that bind you. I have finished my path, completed the Endeavour. Achieved true nu-mantia—true freedom! My sense speaketh not unto your sense any longer. I who have reached the 'I' lying at the hub of the Wheel of Aurbis! I am become that which I truly am! I'm become the root. The tree. THE TOWER!"

The ritual chamber seemed to shake at the last bellowed word of the King of Worms, everyone present good and dazed, and at least nobody offering any counterarguments.

Ariadne, on the other hand, was still trying to get over what he'd said to the scholar in the beginning. He knew her? What was that supposed to mean? Not to mention the other gobbledygook.

"And so," said Mannimarco, more equably, "the choice remains yours. Life or death. Heaven or hell. Eternity, or a life as short as it is pointless. I have carved my own destiny, and not a second passes that I do not applaud myself on account of my achievement. My salvation. My deliverance! It is available to anyone. At any time. As long as there is the will. As long as there is the desire. As long as there is the effort." He looked to shrug his bony shoulders—an odd gesture from a living corpse. "Do with that what thou wilt."

He eyed around his muted audience for a while, then sharpened his gaze once more on the scholar. The golden eyes narrowed. "Yes," he mused, and chuckled low. "Surprises all around, it seems. How delightful. I do wonder where this is going . . ."

Ariela still simply stood there, her initial anger somewhat faltered to allow for bewilderment, yet with still as defiant a pose as before. It seemed, at least, that the ghoul was no longer intent on smiting her, though precisely what went on inside the obnoxious wraith's skull was a mystery to anyone. Ariadne wasn't so much afraid of him slaughtering them anymore, and more of him continuing the ceaseless smug lecture. He was, it turned out, far worse than any of her magic teachers had ever been! Well, barring, perhaps, Phinis Gestor.

Mannimarco cast a sweeping regard on the crowd. "You can thank the little one here," he said, "for me deciding to spare your puny lives. I find myself . . . persuaded. This reality of yours is far more interesting than I initially supposed, and I shall remain keenly interested in what you make of it."

Sissel's and Ariadne's perplexed eyes met in the dark.

"Well," Mannimarco said, "This has certainly been a curious little visit. But now, I'm afraid, I must bid my fond farewell. I shall keep—"

"NO!"

The King of Worms was not the only one whose head swung in the direction of the furious shriek. It had made the chamber resound every bit as intensely, if not decidedly more frenetically, as his own voice had.

The cult leader had taken a forceful stride forwards, removed her cowl so that the vicious grimace on those deathly-pale and emaciated features, likewise competing with the undead necromancer's, could do full justice to the inhuman sound that had just came out of her throat. "No," she repeated, throatier now and at a considerably less ear-tearing volume, yet no less intense.

"No?" Mannimarco repeated, as if he had trouble with that word as well.

"I summoned you!" the woman growled, slowly advancing. "And so I shall command you. And you will not leave this place until I say so!"

It was clear that this was someone used to getting her way. But perhaps, Ariadne reflected, even the uncanny lady was just a little over her head here.

Mannimarco certainly did not appear intimidated. If anything, he looked curious. "Ah, yes," he mused. "You, also, are truly an interesting one. Rarely have I seen one such as . . . twisted as you. Yes. I'm going to be keeping my eye on you as well."

The woman made to lurch for the lich. "You shall not—"

"Oh, but I shall!"

Mannimarco raised a sharp hand and, even as the woman was about to pounce on him, an explosion of bright white light washed over the chamber. But the blast wasn't content with simply blinding everyone, but came with a pressure wave strong enough to knock everyone off their feet, including the three women from the College.

The person closest to the explosion, the cult leader, was flung away not unlike the priest had been, yet did not seem to strike the wall quite as hard.

And then silence returned.

After the initial shock, Ariadne sat up and blinked her once more snowblind eyes in the ensued gloom. At least half of the candles had been snuffed out; the sweet, waxy fragrance from the curling tendrils of smoke was the smell of darkness.

The ritual floor was conspicuously empty. No trace of the King of Worms. Nothing left of the magic which had brought him. Only the ugly staff still leaning against the pedestal.

"Is everyone alright?" The whisper was Sissel's, coming from Ariadne's right.

"I'm fine. I think," Ariadne said.

"Ariela?"

The scholar lay on her back a few feet away. "I'm alright," she said impassionedly.

Ariadne frowned at the woman's odd response. Had she bumped her head?

Around them, stunned cult members were slowly picking themselves up from the floor. Further back, the leader still lay on the ground. Ariadne could not tell Calisto apart from the others at the moment.

"We'd better get out of here fast!" Sissel hissed.

Ariela slowly came to her feet. Then she suddenly froze, her attention on the ritual floor. She made to march that way, but Sissel caught her by the sleeve.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"The staff!"

"Forget it!"

"But—"

"No!"

They all jumped at the rageful cry. The cult leader had come to; she was on her knees and elbows, swatting away Calisto's attempt to help her up.

"That worm!" the woman growled.

"That's our cue," said Sissel. "We must be going. Now!"

Even now Ariela was hesitant, but the light of reason soon found the scholar as well, and she relented.

Then they were all running for the door.

"There!" the cult leader screamed. "Get them, I will have words with them all!"

Uh huh, words. Sure.

"Come on!" Sissel said, pushing Ariela out the door and then spinning with fire blooming in her hands. "You two get—"

"Not a chance!" Ariadne came to stand by the woman, willing flame into herself.

"Fool," said Sissel.

"That makes two of us."

Shortly after nearly being cut down by who knew what matter of supernatural entity, the cult members seemed somewhat slow to act on commands; but by this point the sharpest of them had caught on and were preparing to go after them. Ariadne sought out Calisto, and saw that was looking straight at her. He did not look happy.

"You first, then," said Sissel. "And be quick about it."

"My pleasure," Ariadne replied, her eye still on Calisto, and smiled.

Her entire body tremored with energy as she released a roaring stream of the Wall of Flames out of both hands. The first impact had been directed at Calisto. The light from the pillar of searing heat, however, was so bright in the surrounding murk that she could not see much in the way of anything in the direction where it went. So she simply let the power pour out of her, sweeping her arms in a wide arc to reach as many villains as she could. Before she had depleted all of her magica, though, she relinquished the flow.

"Good work," Sissel said. "Now go, quick!"

The woman's arms, completely engulfed by flames, were already out wide, her face tilted towards the ceiling. Ariadne made haste to get out of the way before the older mage released the power of the Fire Storm. A massive roar blasted the ritual hall behind her as the wave of fire blasted out in every direction. Ariadne had just slunk through and out to the side as a breath of flame shot out from the doorway.

Soon Sissel followed, running. "Go, go, go!"

Before Ariadne followed the other women down the circular stairs lined with candles, she cast a conjuration spell, and soon a massive being of carved ice stood in front of her. She ran past the Frost Atronach, gesturing at the door. "Sic 'em, girl!"

"Good thinking!" Sissel said as she caught up with the woman.

"I know," Ariadne replied.

"And not bad in there, by the way. Didn't know you knew expert level destruction. There's potential in you yet, kid!"

Ariadne snorted.

"We're not out yet!" reminded the scholar a couple steps ahead of them.

Speaking of which. "Look out!" Ariadne cried, pointing.

Ariela let out yelp as Sissel's fireball passed close to her. The two robed men in the hallway had not looked like they had anticipated meeting anyone, let alone being attacked. And so they could not find it in them to react fast enough, and the detonation knocked them both over like a pair of wooden pins.

There were sounds somewhere behind them, so Ariadne tossed another conjuration spell over her shoulder. A Flame Atronach, this time. As they passed the two fresh cadavers, then, Sissel waved a hand over the other, and magical light lit the corpse up, lifting it off the ground. These were but puny hindrances, but certainly better than nothing.

They once again passed the room with the bookshelves, and the vampire still stood in his old place. This time he did not even bother to look up from his book as they passed.

Their flight was otherwise unobstructed, and they soon arrived at the top of stairs leading down to a hallway with a door straight ahead of them.

"Almost there," Sissel said. "That's the main entrance down there. Quick!"

The hallway seemed empty, and Ariadne dared hope. As they came to the door, however, there were noises from their left. In a passageway there, through which they'd come earlier, there were a host of cultists. Three of them robed, one in her underwear.

"There!" screamed the half-naked woman. "Those are the ones who—"

Her croak was cut short, as Sissel had charged a two-handed fireball which she now unleased on them. The passageway filled with first fire and then smoke, and then there were no further signs of the cultists.

"There," said Sissel, content. "That's one less loose end. I'll be sleeping better tonight."

"If we linger any more we might all be sleeping forever!" Ariadne said.

"Or then never again," added Ariela.

"Right y'are," Sissel said. "After you, ladies."

The air of a spring night in Ariadne's face had never been sweeter. What she'd missed before, the many sweet and heady fragrances of the temperate Whiterun Hold, were now incredibly vivid. And after the hours spent in the claustrophobic and musty quarters of the keep, the proximity of death and perhaps worse ever looming above, this was like a return to life. And it was incredibly beautiful!

She was, of course, perfectly aware that it was too early to start celebrating.

"You two go ahead!" Sissel said, motioning straight ahead toward the collapsed barbican. "I know where Ariela's horse is kept; I'll go get it and I'll meet you where we left ours. Shake a leg now!"

The two younger women ran as though Sithis himself was after them—which technically he was, or his cronies at any rate. Cries rang from the direction of the courtyard by the time they reached the horses. Ariadne worried that Sissel had not been quick enough. Or, gods forbid, she had led them on saying that she knew about Ariela's nag, and instead had stayed to try to slow the villains down.

"Sissel," Ariela said, anxious, echoing Ariadne's fears.

"I don't know," Ariadne admitted, untying the horses.

"We have to. . ."

"To what?" Ariadne demanded. "Go back? Be my guest, if your own life means that little to you. It certainly seemed like it back in there!"

There was a wounded edge to the scholar's glare.

"Okay," the mage relented. "Sorry. But you know there's nothing we can do."

"Did she . . .?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. Gods, I hope not."

"They'll be soon coming."

"I'm aware of that.

"How long should we—"

"Listen!"

In the darkness, then, the beating of hooves.

Oh, sweet Dibella, don't let it be them! "Only one horse, I think," Ariadne said. "One of them I could take care of. Unless, of course, it's—"

"Calisto!" Ariela gasped.

"Shhhh!"

Within a couple more long seconds, a familiar auburn mare emerged from the gloom.

"Lucky!" the scholar exclaimed.

"Not for long!" Sissel said. "What are you waiting for, a formal request? We're still on the run!"

"You've got her horse," Ariadne pointed out.

"Alright," Sissel said, swinging out of the saddle. For some reason the bastards had seen fit to equip it with one, unless that had been Sissel's doing. "Since everybody suddenly needs their own horses in order to ride anywhere."

Once they'd all mounted, Ariadne still riding bareback—and, to be honest about it, she was starting to grow accustomed to, even enjoy the feeling—, they took off at a gallop.

"This way, follow me!" said Sissel, veering her horse toward northwest.

"Are we returning to the college?" asked the flabbergasted scholar.

"Of course not, silly," the older woman replied. "Just taking a bit of a detour."

Ariadne really could not tell whether her reply had been sarcastic or not, but she thought it better not to ask. She'd find out soon enough, anyway, what the lady was planning.

At length, they arrive at the edge of the coniferous forest, having crossed over to the Pale. There did not seem to be anyone following, but they certainly did not slow their pace. Sissel guided them to a path branching out to their left, then after some moments let Ariela move on ahead of her.

"Well," Sissel said, looking over her shoulder at Ariadne. "That was easier than I anticipated. Luck, for once! And they don't seem to—" Her grin faltered as she eyed the distance. "Ah, shit on leeks!"

Ariadne's head swung. A horse was approaching at full gallop.

"Ariadne!" came the rider's fevered cry.

"Fucking Calisto!" she snarled.

"You can't get away from me, Ariadne!"

"Eat this!" Sissel flung a fireball at the man.

Calisto swerved his horse out of the way. "Missed!" And a lightning bolt volleyed out to them.

Sissel barely got her head out of the way, and the maneuver temporarily unsettled her on the saddle.

In spite of her preferences, Ariadne switched to Frost and unleashed a host of Icy Spears at Calisto. But the bastard seemed almost bedeviled in the way that he evaded each of them. Then she had to focus on the riding for a while again.

"Are we having fun yet?" he screamed. "Come back to me and I'll show you what a really good time is!"

"More expert spells?" Sissel asked Ariadne. "Attagirl! Now, let's see if this slows him any." She let go of both hands and a hoary blue jet poured out of them. She aimed at the ground right behind them, and where the spell hit, a spiky growth of ice stuck to the road's surface. She moved her hands back and forth so that the Frost Wall covered the whole path. "Sorry for his horse, but . . ."

But a second later, as Ariadne cast a look back, she saw the spray of flame from Calisto's hands thaw the ice enough so as to not offer him much of an obstacle.

"Thought he might do that." Sissel's hands were off again, and now she charged a Fireball. Anticipating Calisto's speed distance, she let the charge fly. It hit the ground just at his horse's feet. The animal screamed, rearing. "Yes!" Sissel hissed.

"Poor thing!"

Ariadne scowled ahead at Ariela, who was looking over her shoulder with a pitying look on her face.

"Poor thing, having to carry such a sack of shit around!" Ariadne said. "Death would be a mercy."

Sissel grinned. "Well, I'd bet that—"

"Save your bets," Ariadne said, motioning with her head.

Sissel's head spun. "Oh, for crying. . . Don't you ever quit!" she screamed at the still proceeding Calisto. Even at this distance, Ariadne could see his manic grimace.

"I'll quit once I win!"

Lightning flashed.

Now it was Arcana who screamed, as the bolt hit her in the rump. She did not slow down, but the pain and the shock jarred her gate, swaying her rear wildly as she galloped, and Ariadne had to struggle to stay on without a saddle, needing to clinch the horse's muscular neck with both arms. "Easy!" she tried cooing in its ear. "Easy, girl!" But to no effect.

Sissel extended one hand Arcana's way, while using the other to shower fire after them. The hand aimed at the horse glowed a warm light, and soon enough the horse's gait returned to normal.

"Thanks!" Ariadne said, daring to relieve her hold a little.

"You can thank me when we're out of this! A kiss maybe."

Ariadne glared at the woman, then, in spite of the circumstances, grinned. "You know, I might just give you one if we make it."

Sissel returned the grin. "I'll hold you to that."

Another lightning bolt just missed Sissel's horse, and she returned it with two of her own. Calisto deftly avoided both, seeming almost to have made his horse a part of himself the way he controlled the animal.

He's gonna catch up to us! Ariadne faced ahead and grit her teeth. This isn't enough, we can't keep him from

Her eye then caught something in the near distance, and an idea suddenly presented itself. It's worth the shot!

"Keep him busy!" she said to Sissel.

"What are you gonna do."

"You'll see soon enough."

She carefully let go of Arcana's neck, pressing hard with her legs. "Easy now," she said, but whether it was more to the horse or herself was not entirely clear. She brought her hands close together and let the energy build. She let the magical power amass until she felt nearly drained; then, as she was in the right place, she let fly.

The fireball was cast out to the side, at a tall, thick-trunked spruce by the roadside.

"What are you doing?" Sissel demanded, whereas Ariela looked back at the noise with wide eyes.

"Just wait!"

The explosive hurdle struck right in the middle of the tree's bole, close to the bottom. Accompanying the detonation was loud crack, and a widening gash rapidly snaked up the three, scattering bark all about. Then the tree groaned.

"Yes!" Ariadne cried. Sorry, tree!

Once they'd passed, and before Calisto could spur his horse past, the tree slowly toppled crosswise on the path, right in front of the man. This time his horse could do nothing about the sudden obstacle. Ariadne could see it rearing, and heard Calisto's curses.

"Ha-ha-ha!" Sissel whooped. "So long, sucker! Excellent work!" she told Ariadne. "That's using the old noggin!"

The young mage ginned.

"I'll get you yet, Ariadne!" shrieked Calisto, from behind the felled tree.

Furious, Ariadne twisted around to scream back, "Not if I get you first!"

"Follow me," Sissel said, taking the lead again.

"Are there gonna be others?" cried Ariela.

"Sincerely doubt it. But we should find out soon enough."

They rode hard until their horses tired, and once they slowed down found themselves alone in the forest.

"Alright," said Sissel. "That's good enough. Now, turn right over there."

"Where are we headed?" Ariela asked.

"To Whiterun."

"What's there?"

"Safety," Sissel replied. "Relatively speaking. For now, at least."

And so, seemingly untailed, they rode down onto the Whiterun plains. The darkness around them was starting to pale. The days were rapidly getting longer and the nights shorter in the middle of the Second Seed. At their leisurely pace, Ariadne deeply breathed the balmy, perfumed spring air. The wealth of scents from flowers and plants, even in these relatively bare surroundings, combined with that hard-to-describe damp smell of dew and soil was positively intoxicating!

On a particularly green patch near the city grew countless white flowers on sagging racemes. Lilies of the Valley. And as the faint breeze brushed across them, it carried over such a sweet fragrance that Ariadne felt almost dizzy. It had been so long, it felt, since she'd last felt true spring, that she could have just cried now that it was finally here. It made her whole body prickle, and combined with the afterglow of the magic the effect was made manifold. Truth be told, it made her feel a bit . . . well, horny. But recent events considered, she chose not to linger on those sensations, and instead focused on the simple pleasure of being alive and breathing.

From who knew where, then, a sudden memory came, pertaining to the Lily of the Valley, as she let her eye linger on the inflorescences. From one of her mandatory alchemy classes. The plant was not only a treat to the eye, an ornament of nature, but also a potent herb, used particularly for poisons. For all its simple beauty, it was very toxic. Something in it unfavorably affected the heart, and when alchemically reinforced, it made a poison which could convincingly produce a result passing for natural death.

Way to throw shade on the lovely ambiance, Ariadne!

She sighed. After a good night's—well, morning's—sleep, and with a fresher mind, she should give this "enjoying the simple things" business another go.

The parameters about the city wall were about as quiet as one would expect; but soon enough, with the arrival of morning, that would change. Off to the side was a small Khajiit camp, consisting of a large merchant tent with some of the anthropomorphic felines camping outside of it. Two individuals were awake at this time, sitting by the fireside outside the tent.

"There's something sad about them."

Ariadne, surprised, looked at Ariela. The scholar was also studying the Khajiit.

"In general or in particular?" asked Sissel.

"In particular."

"Well," Sissel said as she lowered herself from her saddle. "Nothing new there. Sad bastards all 'round."

They stopped at the Whiterun Stables. Unsurprisingly, not a soul around. The fire outside of the building burning, a couple of horses unguarded in the separate manger.

"Wait here," Sissel said. She went to bang on the door. Soon a man opened and they traded some words, Sissel motioning in the direction of their horses. The man did not appear to be particularly bothered by being torn from his slumber.

"Alright," the woman said upon returning. "Here's the plan. You two lay low for a while. I spoke to the stable owner and he agreed to watch after your horses.

Ariadne gave the manger a dubious glance. Seemed that "take care of" was a relative notion. At least the beasts would be fed.

"And what will you—"

"I'll get to that. So, in the city there's an Inn called the Bannered Mare. The owner knows me. Just mention my name and she'll take care of the rest."

"And what about you?" asked Ariela.

"I have to get back to the College immediately. Faralda must hear about what happened." She sighed at Ariadne's expression of apprehension. "Look, you are right not to trust me, or anyone for that matter. But I need to get back to the Arch-Mage, and inform her of what happened. Indeed, I fear that the situation is even is more serious than we originally thought. I don't know what all of this means, but it can't be good."

"You do what you must, of course," said Ariela. She paused. "And of course we trust you!"

"Yeah," Ariadne echoed. "Are you kidding? You more than proved yourself!"

"Well," Sissel said, appearing as though trying to cover up uncharacteristic bashfulness with more characteristic severity. "Be that as it may, being suspicious, as I'm sure we've all learned well by now, is by no means a stupid precaution."

Ariela glowered. "Tell me about it. I've learned that lesson to last for a lifetime."

"Alright," Sissel said with a sigh, taking a sweeping look about. "Now, before I go, there's something I need to get off my chest." She wheeled on Ariela. "So what was all that supposed to be? The shit you pulled in there?"

Ariela blinked, dumbfounded by the sudden assault, and then scowled. "Oh, like saving all of our lives?"

Sissel clearly hadn't been preparing for that comeback, the way her brows shot up.

Then the old Ariela returned, and she seemed to deflate, casting her eyes down. "Really, though," she said. "I have no idea. I was as surprised as anyone, and then some. It's just that . . . well, I was compelled to act. And before I knew it . . . well, it was all happening."

"What happened in there anyway?" asked Ariadne. She'd been afraid to ask, she realized.

"Not sure, to be honest," replied Ariela quietly, then looked up at both of the women in turn. "All I can say with any certainty is that that was no mere necromancer back from the dead."

A moment of silence as they weighed that statement.

"Those things it was saying to you. . ." Ariadne said.

"I don't know," Ariela replied with a shake of her head. "My guess is that he was trying to confuse me somehow. Creatures like him are known to be devious like that."

Another wordless stretch.

"The Temple of Sithis," Sissel then muttered.

"What?" Ariadne asked.

"That's what the priest, or whatever he was supposed to be, called them."

"What does it mean?" Ariela suddenly looked dead tired.

"Wish I knew," Sissel said. "But I mean to find out."

Ariadne took a wary look around at the placid early morning perimeters outside the city wall. "Are they . . ."

"They've got better things to think about right now, I'd say," Sissel assured. "It's over for now. But obviously it's not really over. And Calisto is still out there, and he's not going to forget."

"Neither am I," Ariadne muttered.

"He's planning something," Ariela said. "Something of his own."

"Undoubtedly," Sissel said. "I also mean to find out just what. And I mean to stop him."

"We," said Ariadne.

Sissel smiled. "All in good time, kid. All in good time. Rest now, and lay low." She looked down at the women's robes. "And get yourself some different clothes for gods' sake!"

They all chuckled, albeit Ariela slightly more reservedly.

"Alright," Sissel said. "I'll meet you in a couple days, once I know more, or at least once me and the Arch-Mage have something like a plan. Lay low, and await my message."

"Thank you, Sissel!" Ariadne said, as emphatically as she could

"Yeah," echoed Ariela. "Thank you. For everything."

The woman grinned. "Don't thank me yet. I might have just gotten you in more trouble than you were initially in."

"I sincerely doubt that," Ariela said.

"Yeah," Sissel said. "Me too. Still, wait till this is over, truly over, and then we'll celebrate." She gave Ariadne a wink, and the young mage felt her face redden. Sissel laughed.

She's onto you, she thought. And so she's teasing you. And, well, guess I have it coming. "Take care, Sissel," she said.

"You too. And take good care of her." She gestured at the scholar. "She had quite the shock back there."

Ariela looked small right then, even smaller than usual, and said nothing.

Oh, and what about me and my shock—

Ariadne smiled. "I will."

Sissel hopped on her horse and bid farewell. A few paces out, however, she turned one last time. "And Ariadne? About that kiss you promised . . ."

"Uh . . ."

"You can save that for after we've shoved Calisto's own severed gonads down his throat."

Ariadne grinned. "After that I think I'll even give Ariela here a big ol' smooch!"

The scholar frowned.

And then Sissel clicked her tongue, and her horse took off at a canter.

"Well," Ariadne said, eyeing the city. "Let's go get some rest."

"Yes," Ariela sighed. "Let's!"

Just as Sissel said, the owner of the Bannered Mare, a middle-aged woman named Ysolda, gave them a warm welcome as they mentioned the mage's name. Upon being told that they were trying to lay low, she graciously promised to do everything she could to help. And, even better, she also turned out to be a rather well-stocked merchant, and so both of the women could find new garb to replace the repugnant ceremonial robes. For Ariela, the plain gray tunic and breeches that the woman seemed fond of, and—as luck would have it!—a brand new set of adept robes for Ariadne. And they were offered food on the house! Delicious, hot food! And they both ate to their hearts' content.

The only thing missing from all of that would have been a bath. And yes, that would have been too much to ask. But the more Ariadne thought about it . . .

Yes, so just stop thinking about it!

It was probably close to dawn by the time they finally got to their room—sharing a two-person room seemed the safest bet—judging by the increasing light outside. But they were surely both exhausted enough so that sleep would come without trouble.

And yet, in spite of feeling the tiredness all around her body, the energy from all the excitement yet held Ariadne in its grip. She hadn't felt quite as sexually stirred as she sometimes did after magic, probably not entirely unrelated to the earlier circumstances and the whole debacle with Calisto, but as they'd spent some moments at the tavern her eyes had lingered on a few burly men sitting by the fireside. They'd been far too rugged for her tastes for the most part, but then again . . . She'd made sure, however, to not let any one of them notice her looking. She would have surely heard no end of it. In fact, she'd been rather surprised that they had all seemed to pay extraordinarily little attention to her. Well, no matter . . . In any case, though she could now feel the energy about her loins as well as the rest of her, she focused on the latter.

They sure had raised a stink back there! The repulsive cultists would surely think twice before messing with their kind again. And soon they would be delivered an even more decisive message once the College got their act together. She would personally be there, she swore, to see Calisto's downfall, enact as much of it as was possible. And she would enjoy every second!

Ariela frowned. "What are you smirking about now?"

Ariadne shrugged, still grinning. "I might have seemed a bit worked up before, and I was—but now that I think of it, that was kind of fun, wasn't it? What, now don't say you didn't enjoy it even a little bit!"

Ariela shook her head.

"Oh, but you were great!"

The scholar's eyes widened.

"Seriously! I mean, yeah, I know what I said earlier, but I didn't really mean it. And yeah, at the time I could have just strangled you— Look, the bottom line is, you were incredibly brave! Did you see all those cowards in their cowls, positively shaking in front of that hideous ghoul, and there's you all, 'Stop! You don't belong here! Begone!'"

"That's not exactly what I—"

Ariadne waved. "That's not the point. Look, what I'm trying to say here . . ." She sighed. "Alright, so I know I haven't always exactly behaved like the perfect assistant. I know I can be a little . . . well, petulant. And I apologize. Now, I'm not gonna lie and say I'm going to change, but I'm going to make an effort. You may be a bit dull, but there's strength in you that doesn't meet the eye."

Ariela was silent after that—seeming, perhaps, to have some mixed emotion about the latter part of Ariadne's endorsements.

"And, you know," Ariadne added after a pause, "your nose, in truth, really isn't that big at all."

Ariela frowned. "What?" she said softly, unconsciously lifting a hand to the mentioned nose.

Ariadne softly clapped the woman's arm. "Time to hit the sack, don't you think?" She smiled. "Good night, Ariela. I do hope you manage to sleep after all that. Sweet dreams!"

Leaving the scholar, muttering something back, standing in the middle of the room, Ariela went to her bed. It had fresh sheets, at least, even if the rest of it left room for wishing. Not that her bedclothes back at the College had been any more luxurious. And besides, she could have comfortably slept in a bale of hay at her current level of exhaustion. So she tucked herself in without any criticism whatsoever.

Yet she couldn't fall asleep for what felt like the longest time. Not that she greatly suffered for it. She lay there on her back, staring at the bare-wooded plank ceiling, and let her mind run over all that had happened. This wasn't really her chosen pastime, but she recognized the need of her mind to sum it all up, so she figured it was easier to simply give in to it. Furthermore, she soon realized that she was experiencing one of those sorts of tiredness which gave falling asleep something of a menacing feeling. As though her being over exhausted would cause succumbing to slumber be too harsh or jarring. Uncomfortably close to death, or at least that's what she supposed.

Eventually, and quite without her realizing it, as was the way of these things, she did fall asleep. And she dreamt of being lost in a great big labyrinth stretching for miles upon bewildering miles, desperately searching for a way out, knowing that a terrible monster was in the labyrinth with her. The monster knew of her too, and it was after her, with no other purpose than to destroy her, body, soul and all, if it caught her. She could hear from afar its heavy breath and its low and steady growl and its laborious steps as it hunted. She was for all appearances all alone, yet on another level she felt as though there were others with her, friends who trusted her to get them out of there. And she was growing desperate.

Then, however, she felt as though an inborn light, a tremendous source of strength which she had forgotten that she possessed, returned to her and aided her. As she gained self-assurance, she realized that with this light, and with the help of her own cunning and skill, she was able to lead herself, and those possibly with her, out of the maze. And that conviction soon seemed to turn into reality, as she could picture the correct route out with her mind's eye. She knew that the exit was just around the corner.

Right as she was about to reach the exit, then, as soon as she had almost let herself celebrate her victory, the monster appeared right in front of her, seemingly out of nowhere. There was nothing she could do. She had lost. And if anyone had ever counted on her, they were now going to be let down in a most horrific manner. This was the end of all hope. The monster, she now knew, would win. It would always win.

And when the monster caught her, it made her look into its terrible eyes of measurelessly deep darkness, and spoke to her in her own voice.


The end of The Infinite Void. Thanks for reading!