Disclaimer: See chapter 1.

Verin woke in the middle of the night with the overwhelming sense that something was wrong. She slid out of bed, reaching for her glaive. Lifting the weapon, she took a careful survey of the room, dimly lit by the light of the dying embers. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but that tingling sense of danger remained, and rangers learned early to always trust their instincts.

She held perfectly still, listening. All she could hear was Kyrdan breathing softly, the fire snapping almost inaudibly, and—

And something humming. That got Verin's full attention. It seemed to be coming from over by their packs.

If it's that damned 'magic' dagger, so help me I'll…

Verin leaned her glaive back against the wall and stormed over to the packs, jerking Kyrdan's open. Sure enough, the dagger was vibrating slightly, and was glowing an eerie shade of green. Not one to be frightened by stranger colors, Verin recklessly reached out and grasped the dagger firmly.

The Lost Ones cry...

Swirling emptiness, only the souls screaming in mortal agony, trapped, trapped...

The Lost Ones cry...

So alone, so very alone...they're just out of reach...so close, so far...so alone...

The Lost Ones cry...

"Kyrdan!"

The Lost Ones cry…

*          *          *

Kyrdan woke slowly the next morning. He sat up and looked around, wondering where Verin was. Shrugging and figuring that she must have gone downstairs for breakfast, he dressed and went to retrieve his pack. He found her crouched over it, shaking and holding something tightly. "Verin?" he asked. She didn't answer. "Hey, Verin, you alright?"

When she didn't even move, Kyr dragged himself out of bed and walked over. He laid a hand on her shoulder. She was freezing cold. "Verin!" He bent over to see what she was holding. To his shock, she was gripping that dagger he'd won in a tightly clenched hand. "Verin, wake up right now! This isn't funny!" Kyrdan scooped her up and deposited her on the bed. He began to pry her fingers off the hilt. "Verin, come on, come back to me."

She didn't respond, and curled her fingers back around the dagger as he pulled them off. Kyrdan began cursing in at least ten different languages, fervently and creatively. "Verin Risingstar, let go of that dagger!" He wrenched the weapon free and dropped it to the floor.

Something about it caught his eye. He turned away from Verin and looked at the dagger. There was something funny about the red jewel in the pommel. It seemed to be swirling, or moving. Kyrdan knelt and peered at it, then gasped. He could see Verin's face in the jewel, screaming in pain. "Oh, no." He started cursing again. "Oh, rakan." Dwarvish for "goblin droppings".

On the bed, Verin sat up and screamed. Kyrdan spun around, leaving the dagger where it lay. "Verin!"

"Oh, gods, Kyrdan—" She curled into a ball and began crying. "I told you not to take the damned thing!" she said again and again. "I told you!"

Kyr hurried to her side and put his arms around her. "What happened?"

She wiped her eyes and began to relax. "I woke up in the middle of the night, and the damn thing was humming. I went to go see what it was, and I touched the dagger and—it trapped me. I was floating in a void, and there were other souls out there, just as lost and alone as me, but I couldn't reach them—and I was so incredibly alone—" she shuddered. "Someone—or something—kept crying out. I think they were called the Lost Ones, don't ask me how I know. Promise me one thing, Kyr: you will never accept magic weapons ever again unless you know what they do."

"Don't worry, I won't. Not after this."

Verin shuddered. "Good." She nestled into him. "You can't know how wonderful it is to be out of there."

"It's very nice to have you back. You scared the hell out of me, and I'm not even sure how I got you out."

"Maybe there's some sort of release word. What did you say?"

"Before I called you out? Well, I said lots of things, but most recently I said rakan. But that can't be it."

Verin looked thoughtful. "An evil magic dagger that responds to curse words? Now this is interesting. And I'm hungry. Having your soul trapped by evil magic daggers that respond to curse words is an experience to rouse the appetite."

Kyrdan gaped at her. "How do you talk like that after having your soul trapped by an evil magic dagger that responds to curse words?"

"Can we stop calling it that? It needs a better name."

"Like what? Soultrapper?"

Verin shuddered. "Exactly."