42 LOST IN TRANSLATION

Zelgadis found the writing in the translated journal was even worse than his earlier brief glimpse had indicated. Not only was it overflowing with wordy, convoluted descriptions; within the first few pages, it repeated and contradicted its own story.

Even though it claimed to be a direct translation of the original chronicle written by Melly's ancestor, the tone and style shifted jarringly every few pages. Zelgadis began to suspect it had been translated - or perhaps even written anew - by several different writers, each trying to prove the others wrong. It was only consistent in its claim that the writer of the tale, the illustrious Amaranada, was the most valiant, noble, fearless and wise of all sorcerers who had escape the destruction of Skye, destined to be declared the first Mala and establish the great magical family line of the Asmalaths.

The translators couldn't even agree on the manner of Amaranada's escape from Skye, or on the sorcerer's arrival on the mainland. Nor was there any explanation for the destruction of Skye, only frequent mentions of The Doom That Fell Upon The Island.

However, there were several pages of detailed description of the great ship in which the sorcerer fled the magic island. It was, of course, the most amazing and most massive ship ever to sail the sea - or the sky, in some passages. It was "built all of gold and silver, festooned with sapphires, rubies, peridot and amethyst, with sails woven of seagulls' wings, and its great dragon-head prow carved of a single huge block of mahogany."

It seemed unlikely to float, Zelgadis thought, let alone sail through the sky as nimbly as a sparrow, as one of the writers claimed. One version of the glorious arrival of the great ship, written in a different hand and style from the rest, credited Melly's ancestor with no less than the creation of Wyndcliff Harbor itself.

"Our ship, so fine and fearsome, born forth on the wings of the storm wind fierce blown from the cataclysm of the dying island, that it came upon the coast before any warning could be raised. And as it ground ashore, a great new harbor was cleaved from the land! The wondrous brilliance of the golden Sun, reflected from our gleaming hull and glistening sails, blazed so brightly that the very stones of the land were broken and blackened from the firey glare of it! And so, the first gift of the Exile from Skye to the people of the Land was a fine new harbor, sheltered behind charred and tumbled stones from the buffeting winds of the Sea..."

The writer of this tale claimed that all of this foreshadowed the brilliance of the illustrious Asmalath family for all future generations, but, in fact, the description of the event was so overblown it was almost comical. It sounded to Zelgadis as if some ancient translator, perhaps tired of the relentless praise of the glorious Asmalaths, had added their own touch of satire to the tale.

Refusing to be discouraged, Zelgadis doggedly made notes of every mention of the beasts, or beast-folk, that Amaranada had encountered on the mainland. Perhaps, he thought, if he compared these various tales with the local legends given in other books, he could find some common ground that might lead to a useful nugget of truth.

But the longer he read, the more conflicting reports he found of the Sky sorcerer's encounters with local inhabitants, whether beasts or humans. In one instance, the great ship was greeted with celebration by the primitive local folk; in another, the beasts of the land rose up against the invading strangers and fought them off in a long battle (providing yet another hinted origin of the ruins), until they were somehow subdued, enlightened, and magically evolved into the half-human Tribes by the wisdom and magic of the great Sorcerers.

All other mentions of the Beast Folk of the coast were equally muddled and inconsistent. Some passages indicated that the progenitors of the Beast Tribes had been brought to this mountain mainland on the great ships from Skye, while other places in the text stated that the great Amaranada and other sorcerers had somehow evolved the local creatures into Beast Folk.

"The Nine (sometimes it was 12, or 20, or 7) Great Tribes of Beast Folk, the highest and grandest creation accomplished by the wise and marvelous Sorcerers of Skye..."

Unfortunately, the journal gave only the most vague hints as to how this was done, and very questionable hints at that. Either the Skye sorcerers had used utterly alien methods, or the writer (or writers) had little understanding of true magical processes. The depictions on the Tangled Path made more sense, Zelgadis thought with a grimace.

He sat back to rest his eyes and his mind for a moment. Shuno's whining voice broke into his thoughts, complaining to Xelloss about the illogical structure of the old language, as if Xelloss could do anything to make it better. With a stifled sigh, Zelgadis tried to ignore him as he'd become accustomed to doing over the past weeks. Now he just had to do his best to ignore Xelloss as well.

"I know this is ruby, and sapphire, and that's probably quartz, or something like that... what is this word?" Shuno whined at Xelloss. "Is it written wrong, or what?"

Zelgadis raised his eyes and looked across at him.

"Peridot?" he asked suspiciously.

"Hm, yes, that could be it," Xelloss agreed. "How did you guess, Zel-san?"

Zelgadis narrowed his eyes at the book that Shuno was hunched over.

"Is that the original chronicle of Amaranada Asmalath?" he asked. "Supposedly this is based on it," he added, indicating the book he'd been glaring at. "At least that much of it must be authentic, then," he added under his breath.

Now he understood why he hadn't found the original journal here where he'd expected it to be. For a moment, he thought Xelloss must have moved it out of his reach to stymie his research into the Skye legends, but it was more likely that Shuno had held onto it since he'd waved it under their noses that first day in the library.

"Ah, you wished to read this too, didn't you?" Xelloss said. "You're welcome to join us for lessons, if you would like! I'm sure Shuno-kun wouldn't mind," he said graciously, ignoring Shuno's thunderous glare.

Zelgadis was not any more enthusiastic about the suggestion than Shuno was. It was certainly tempting to get a look at the allegedly true version of that event, especially if it included any original mention of the beast folk, and hopefully in more clarity and detail than the horrible translation he'd been trying to read. But he could not possibly sit there with Xelloss - and Shuno - for the hours that it would take, while Shuno struggled through a word-by-word translation of the text. That would be a double torture.

"I'm fine. Thank you anyway. I don't need lessons. I'll... take a look at it when you're done. If you don't mind. I have enough, er, Beast Tribe lore to keep me busy for now."

Xelloss gave him a rather skeptical look, but then shrugged and turned back to Shuno.

In spite of all his past lessons, Shuno's progress was halting. Either he had already started to forget his lessons, or Melly's ancestor was as terrible a writer as the questionable authors of the flowery alleged translation. The text did sound unusually difficult to parse, Zelgadis thought, not only because of quirks of the old language. It was in a highly archaic style, far more convoluted than even the Protocol, and more garbled than could possibly be blamed on the "illogical" syntax of the old language.

"Why are these verbs all in such strange forms," Shuno muttered. "What is that? Is it like, cut, slice? Something like that?"

Xelloss looked over his shoulder. "Hm, in that form, I believe the best approximation in common language would be 'cleaved,' a rather old-fashioned and violent term, although it means quite the same thing."

Shuno labored on, word for word.

Zelgadis raised his head again, listening in spite of himself.

"Port, or harbor, hm... beached, foundered, landed?... sail, of course... sun, shining... blaze, or burn, or something like that... "

Before Shuno managed to string all the words together, Zelgadis had already guessed what it would say. Shuno finally sat back and shook his head.

"So they're saying Amaranada's ship just crashed into the coast and carved out the harbor?" he said. He almost sounded amused. "Huh. Never heard that version of the origin of the ruins before!"

Zelgadis flipped back to the description of Amaranada's crash-landing. He had been very nearly certain that passage had been invented by one of the alleged translators of the original Asmalath chronicle, but here it was in the original itself, nearly word for word! Unless... the "original" journal was not a true tale either?

He read along as Shuno worked out the next section, hearing the exact same words translated, peppered with whining and complaints.

"This is barely coherent even for this old convoluted language," Shuno said finally. "Didn't this idiot even know how to write?"

Zelgadis let out a disgusted hiss.

"Here, this should make it easier to understand," he said. He tossed the translation across to Shuno's table; it slid along to land in front of him. "It's the same text, in common language, and just as badly written!"

Shuno glared, but he picked it up, still open to the same page. Zelgadis sat back while he compared the two journals. Shuno raised one eyebrow, lowered it, and raised the other. Xelloss peered over his shoulder, making little humming noises.

"Badly done," Shuno announced finally. He jabbed his finger at the page. "Here, this should be 'marandaan DEsilia GorMAANden,' not DoSilia GorMundin..."

"But it is exactly the same, allowing for syntax," Zelgadis said. He finally realized what must be true, even as he spoke. "It's not only the same horrible writing. Someone came up with this overwritten version, and then translated it into the old language just to make it look authentic! It's all fake!"

Shuno looked up, stared at him blankly for a moment, then snorted.

"You thought this was real? A true account of the great Sorcerer, Amaranada - Exile from the Magic Isle?"

He said the name slowly, and suddenly the sound of it sank in to Zelgadis' mind.

"Wait... Ama-ara-nada...? That just means Magic Island Exile. It's not even a real name!"

"Oh!" Xelloss said, "how clever of you to translate that, Shuno-kun!"

Zelgadis gritted his teeth and crumpled a stack of notes in his fist. Shuno tossed the flowery version of the journal back to his table, then he calmly flipped to the next page of his old language version and started right back in translating it.

"Why bother?" Zelgadis grumbled.

Shuno ignored him. Xelloss smiled across to him wanly.

"All knowledge is useful, hm, Zel-san? It's still good practice for learning the old language. A little extra challenge, even!"

He said this quite cheerfully, while Shuno slipped him a quick glare. Zelgadis rolled his eyes.

"And there may yet be some useful lore in the text," Xelloss pointed out, "if you are determined to study local legends for the information you seek, Zel-san," Xelloss offers helpfully.

"Not very likely," Zel mutters.

But after another minute of glaring at it, he opened to a different section and tried to read some more.

The words were a muddle. His mind whirled with disgust and disappointment at this revelation. He eyed Herringgull's pile of Skye-disproving books and scrolls with resentment. She'd been right all along, it seemed, and Professor Plover had been even less help with his even wilder theories.

Staring at the nonsensical text, Zelgadis tried to convince himself it was still worthwhile to search through local legends for some true hint of the Beast Folk origins, some clue of how to reverse the chimerical process. That brought his thoughts back to his conversation with Xelloss.

Whether or not he found any way to return his body to normal, with or without giving up his magical capacity, the damn Shimerians would still have to be dealt with. There must be some way to counteract their relics and their weapons. Not only for Xelloss' sake! For his own safety... for the sake of humanity.

He began to think of passages he'd studied in The Warp and Weft of Spellweaving again.

Shimmer had been adept at weaving disparate spells together into a magic stronger than the sum of all the parts, but he was only a human sorcerer. The Shrinekeepers no longer had access to his power, but they had learned to recreate some of his enchantments even without that source. They had learned from him how to weave different magics together in unlikely ways.

He remembered what Xelloss had said when he'd first discovered The Warp and Weft of Spellweaving here in the Mala's library: the study of weaving might include an understanding of unweaving, of unraveling what has been woven together...

That was why Warp and Weft had caught his eye in the first place, but then he'd become distracted by the fascinating challenge of weaving together his own new spell that called upon Xelloss' power. He had kept the Shimerian soldiers in the back of his mind as he devised the spell, but that was not the real reason he'd become obsessed with the idea.

Now he wondered, as he had briefly on that first day in the library: was there a way to shield against the strange, strongly woven magical weapons of Shimer? Could he break their spell by unweaving, by breaking the bonds that held their disparate magics together?

Just as quickly as the thought arose, he tried to push it aside, trying to clamp down even on curiosity for fear of attracting Xelloss' attention. It was a wild idea, anyway. No doubt it would only lead back to disappointment and frustration. And it made no sense to even try, if his goal was to become simply human again.

Perhaps, he thought, Xelloss had been right after all; the ancient knowledge in Warp and Weft might still provide some way to "unweave" the disparate parts of his chimera nature. But as he began to translate new sections of the ancient text, his mind slipped back to Shimeria.

If it could be done, it would not just protect Xelloss, or himself. Disrupting the Shrinekeeper's magic would equally protect anyone else threatened by the Shimerians' desire to indoctrinate all beings and wipe out any other type of magic. It was not just to benefit the mazoku! It was certainly not for Beast Master. That would be absurd. But, knowing what he did of the Shimerians, surely it was his duty to try to stop all of their insidious plans.

Slowly, now, he sifted through through his stacks of books and notes, until Warp and Weft was back in front of him again, with the horrible journal just to the side.

Xelloss took no notice of him. Zelgadis was grateful that Shuno was distracting him, now. It was ironic that things had turned around this way. Besides that, it was far easier to ignore Shuno's mutterings with his mind fully engaged in what he was reading.

Once again, he became engrossed in Warp and Weft. The text was difficult, the theory abstruse and dense, and he was not yet sure any of it would help in his quest for a way to defeat Shimerian soldiers. But it was fascinating, nonetheless.

He'd filled several pages with new notes when his concentration was broken again by the sound of Shuno loudly tapping his books on the table. Zelgadis scowled across at him. Shuno slapped the old journal shut and stood up abruptly.

"It gets dark early now," he muttered. "Probably frost tonight. Maybe even snow." He sounded disgusted.

Craning his stiff neck, Zelgadis was surprised to see that the sky outside the tall windows was deep, azure blue. He hadn't realized how much time had passed.

"Ah, I take it you have something you need to do before nightfall, Shuno-kun?" Xelloss said politely. "Shall we continue tomorrow from where we left off, then?"

Shuno stepped away from the table, stopped, and turned to him.

"No. Yes. Tomorrow, that is. Probably," he added darkly, with a glare at the book lying in front of Xelloss.

He left without another word to his teacher, only muttering to himself as he went through the door. Zelgadis wasn't sure, but it sounded like something about "all the stupid Asmalaths that ever lived and breathed."

Zelgadis stood and stretched, carefully ignoring Xelloss. His brain was starting to feel stifled with complicated new information, and his stomach growled. It had been a long, unsettling day of study. He had little enthusiasm for sitting here, alone with Xelloss in the silent library, any longer.

Unfortunately, he remembered, there was not much to eat at the cottage. The last time he'd even paid attention to their pantry was a day or two before the Festival. He was not in the mood for a friendly crowd at the tavern.

"I'm going to the dining hall," he announced.

His voice sounded weary, even to himself. He longed for a break from keeping his emotions in check. It was nearly as draining as if he had actual magical shields up the whole time. Unfortunately, Xelloss appeared ready to follow along as usual.

"You may not find the atmosphere at all appetizing," Zelgadis said, hoping to discourage him, "unless you enjoy being fawned over. Oh, that reminds me, Ed wishes me to convey his apologies for the behavior of some of his fellow cult members."

He saw Xelloss draw back a little with one eyebrow twitching. That encouraged him to go on with a somewhat embellished description of the village mazoku fans. He watched Xelloss cringe and shrink away as he described the enthusiastic reactions of Turbot and Arboghast and Ed, and of Mark and Jason and their grinning ogre friend.

"Besides all that," he added ruthlessly, "I expect Erta and the other Loremasters will want to hear all about Lord Beast Master! They'll probably want you to invite her to tea, so they can ask her all kinds of questions about being one of Shabranigdo's retainers!"

That was the last straw. Xelloss backed off completely.

"Enthusiastic Loremasters are not on my diet!" he declared. "I will see you back at the cottage, hm?"

"Yes," Zelgadis nodded. "Fine."

Xelloss flickered out of sight before he'd finished speaking.

Zelgadis trudged back toward village and slowly climbed the paths to the dining hall. He felt every bit as weary as if he'd done battle all day. It felt strange to walk the paths alone, but at least he could relax, for the moment.

His payment for this brief respite was to be pressed into service as a delivery boy. After loading him up with enough food for several meals, Ed cajoled him into taking a missed delivery to his neighbors.

"I meant to get up to the cottages today," he explained, "but it's been busier here than expected. And I can't spare anyone to send along, at the moment. Why, most years, it's dead quiet around here for a good week after Festival, but this year it seems like everyone worked up an appetite!"

Zelgadis sighed and added the extra basket to his burden. He couldn't easily refuse since he was obviously going in that direction, and Ed had been so helpful ever since they'd arrived in town, conspiring to help them avoid the Loremasters on numerous occasions. He even felt a little extra grateful to Ed today, though he didn't say so. He'd really needed these few more minutes away from Xelloss.

For that matter, he was just a little reluctant to go back inside the cottage to spend another evening ignoring Xelloss, or trying to. He'd been too tired to feel anything last night; tonight, he knew exactly what he was doing. He was not at all sure he could keep up the pretense of unfeeling detachment for the whole evening, to say nothing of the days ahead. He asked Ed for an extra bottle of wine, hoping that would help.

He'd never visited his neighbors before, even though they'd been living side by side for months. He paused before knocking and stared at the letters carved into the lintel around the door. It was another inscription in the old language, half hidden under vines now dead and bare.

The Seeker of Wisdom may travel far and yet find Truth only at the Source, he thought it said, although he decided it may have been, more precisely, only by returning to theirstarting place.

While he stood pondering this, Marcus' voice rose from within the cottage, whining and petulant about something Zelgadis couldn't understand and didn't care to. Kervan snapped back much more loudly and clearly.

"Because you're an idiot to even think about it, that's why!"

"Not about this!" Marcus quipped back just as clearly. "I know what I can do. You just never give me any credit for knowing anything useful, that's all!"

"Oh, but I do know, very well, what you're capable..."

Kervan's sneering voice broke off. Rolling his eyes, Zelgadis raised his hand to knock, but the door flew open before his knuckles hit the wood.

Startled, Zelgadis wondered if Kervan had somehow sensed him through the door. He stood there with his hand in the air while he and Kervan stared at each other.

"Er..." he started to say.

"Sorry," Kervan cut him off, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Are we disturbing the neighbors? We'll keep it down from now on, I promise."

"I wasn't... " Zelgadis started to deny he'd come to complain - or that he'd been eavesdropping, at least not on purpose. Finally he just held up the extra basket.

"Ed asked me to deliver this to you," he said. "From the dining hall."

Kervan raised an eyebrow.

"Ah. Yes," he said, less sharply. "I'm afraid I ... lost track of the time." A slight tip of the head was all the apology he seemed willing to provide. "Thank you."

He took the basket. They stared at each other for one more moment of awkward silence. Finally Zelgadis said "good night" and turned away.

The door slammed shut, curtains were snapped over the window, and all went quiet inside the scholar's house. Zelgadis let out a sigh and trudged back to his own quiet cottage.

He found it small comfort to be reminded that others had their own problems and... romantic squabbles, if that's what it was. Could Marcus, of all people, truly be trying to find a way to take spell-bound books out of the Asmalath library, he wondered. Was Marcus actually capable of doing real magic?

He shook his head. That seemed absurd. If he was, he was clearly as bad at it as he was at being a scribe. Kervan's words just now had almost seemed to indicate otherwise. Zelgadis wondered again, for a brief moment, what subject they were studying so intensely. He shrugged the question off. It didn't really matter to him what they did.

Zelgadis stood before his own door for a moment, staring at the words carved there without reading them.

It seemed that everyone else he'd met had been in some strange mood ever since the Festival, as if the atmosphere in the village had changed after Hallows Eve. Even Shuno, who was never pleasant, had been testier than usual. He supposed he couldn't blame all of it on Zelas' arrival.

That was only his own problem. His, and Xelloss', which he was trying not to add to.

He took a deep breath, stilled his thoughts, and went inside.

Xelloss had vaguely noticed a burst of anger and indignation from some one of their neighbors; common enough dark emotions, but he'd paid it no mind. Such outbursts were sometimes amusing but generally easy to ignore.

He had heard Zelgadis' footsteps when he crossed the green and passed by the cottage, and he'd heard the knock at the door and the brief, unfriendly conversation. Then he heard Zelgadis come back, and heard his footsteps stop outside the door.

Zelgadis gave him nothing to sense in the way of emotions.

This was disturbing, still, and only served to put Xelloss on higher alert to try to detect his presence.

That was why he could not help but notice Zelgadis more with every passing moment after he entered the cottage, even when all he did was settle at the table near the fireplace with his dinner and his books. Without so much as looking in Zelgadis' direction, he noticed every sound and movement, even while Zelgadis spent the evening hours silently reading the driest of magical notes, and even while he said barely a word to Xelloss in all of that time. Even while he slept.

He was disappointed, but not really surprised, that Zelgadis had returned to his quest to be a normal human. That did not suit his plans - his duties, Zelas' unknown plans - at all! But he couldn't figure out what he could possibly do about it. He knew perfectly well how stubborn and determined Zelgadis was about this. It was no surprise that Zelas' offer had pushed him back to his old goal, and anything Xelloss could say about it was only bound to make him more determined. He had no idea if it is even possible - not since the Shrine of Shimer has been destroyed - but that would not keep Zelgadis from putting all his soul into the quest.

At least he was quite certain that Zelgadis would never willingly join forces with the Shimerians, no matter what happened. Not unless they somehow managed to snag him in their soul-numbing magic. Xelloss refused to even imagine that ever happening.

For the moment, he had to be around Zelgadis, and so he had to try to be as unfeeling about their association as Zelgadis appeared to be. Even so, he could hardly help listening and waiting for some glimmer of emotion from him.

He was immediately alert when Zelgadis arose the next morning. He watched without looking as Zelgadis, without a word to him, dressed and picked up his sword, and got ready to go outside to do his old routine sword practice and calisthenics.

It had been some time since Zelgadis had bothered with his full practice regime, since he'd had so many opportunities for battle practice with Xelloss. Lately, he'd only performed a few stretches and warm up moves, either early in the morning or late in the evening, which Xelloss had always enjoyed watching. In fact, Xelloss had suspected those might be as much for his benefit as any real necessity. Today, he ignored Xelloss entirely as he prepared for his practice.

"Have you decided not to continue with our lessons after all, Zel-san?" he asked casually as Zelgadis headed for the back door of the cottage, sword in hand. As casually as if it were only of passing interest to him, he continued, "I suppose there would be no point, if you intend to live your life as an ordinary human, hm?"

Zelgadis went very still for a moment.

"It would seem not," he answered, then quickly went outside.

He started to perform his practice moves out in back of the cottages, on the level space of lawn between the bath enclosures. Xelloss supposed he counted on their neighbors not being awake at this hour to notice. It was barely light, and a thick, icy fog blanketed the green.

He had made such a supreme effort to not watch Zelgadis closely ever since last night that he could not resist now, even though the chimera clearly did not intend to invite an audience. He'd managed to find a spot that was out of view of most of the cottage windows. Xelloss found that if he just peered around the corner from the back door of the cottage, he could see most of Zelgadis' moves.

He found himself thinking of Martina's words utter by the Reciter he'd heard in the village. The swordsman's slim build and strong shoulders, his graceful, powerful movements, the power and confidence in his crystal blue eyes... even his stony skin only added to his air of sorcery and mystery...

Martina had missed the opportunity to watch the Mysterious Sorcerer-Swordsman do battle with the princess, on that occasion. (Later on, when she had numerous other opportunities to observe Zelgadis in action, she'd always been distracted by other matters - one of which had been Xelloss himself, for a while.)

Remembering the Reciter's words that he'd overheard in the street the day before, Xelloss could not help but appreciate the view he had now. He would much rather be facing Zelgadis across the green, of course, but, as the Princess of Fate might put it, that pleasure was not his to claim at this time.

Now, his only excuse was to study the chimera in action in a more detached way. Calling it an intellectual curiosity, he watched to see if Zelgadis' emotional shut-down affected his sword work. At least, that seemed a good enough excuse for spying on him.

Zelgadis was still precise, still powerful, elegant and efficient in his moves as always. Certainly not as quick or powerful as Gourry, but still he was among the best Xelloss had ever seen. And yet, Xelloss thought, he was perhaps too studied, too precise, today. It was like watching a textbook version of sword practice and battle moves. That would not serve him well in the heat of battle.

He would need all that precision and skill, and more, if he should succeed in giving up his extra speed and agility, his tough armored skin, and his spell casting abilities. The idea that he might retain his magic while regaining his human body seemed unlikely, but even if he did, he would still be highly vulnerable in battle.

Xelloss was distracted from his musings by a sudden burst of strong, distinctly dark emotions - anger, fear, a spark of desperation. Unfortunately, they did not come from Zelgadis.

Kervan burst out of his front door, quick-marched several steps onto the green, then stopped on the narrow lawn between the cottages. He stood for a moment with his dark robes fluttering and his eyes wild, turning and peering through the fog in all directions. One hand was hidden in a pocket of his robes, the other pushed his uncombed hair out of his eyes.

Kervan could be as irritable as Marcus was nervous, but he was not at all adept at hiding his emotions. Much of the time, he was simply more analytical than emotional, so Xelloss hadn't really had any reason to notice him on that level. Today, he was wound up like a watch spring, such a mix of fury and fear that Xelloss could not help but be intrigued.

There had been other "lovers' quarrels" in their neighbors' cottage that Xelloss had simply ignored in the past; the one he'd sensed last night was only a little more noticeable to him in the absence of the usual distraction of Zelgadis' presence. Now, Kervan was a bright beacon of worry and anger. That was enough to arouse Xelloss' curiosity.

Kervan suddenly noticed Zelgadis between the cottages. With another spike of emotion, he spun around marched over to him.

Xelloss craned to catch a glimpse from just inside the back door of the cottage. Kervan questioned Zelgadis urgently, with his dark eyes narrowed, his glance darting toward their cottage suspiciously.

Xelloss quickly stepped back out of sight. He heard Marcus' name. Did Kervan imagine they were harboring his partner here in their own cottage after one of their arguments? He peeked around the corner again, too curious now to be entirely cautious

Zelgadis looked startled, then he shrugged and shook his head.

"Why would you ask me?" he said.

Before he'd finished speaking the words, Kervan spun around and rushed away.

Xelloss moved to another window. Kervan trotted across the green, peered between every cottage, and then rushed across and gazed down over the escarpment on the western edge. After that quick but thorough search, he darted back up to the hedge-gate.

He paused and pulled something from a pocket of his robes, and stared down at it for a moment while stood in the gateway with a new spike of negative emotion. Finally he shoved the thing back into his robes and darted through to the Temple grounds nearly at a run.

"What was that all about?" Zelgadis wondered aloud as he came in the back door.

"I can't begin to guess," Xelloss admitted. "It would not be the first time our friendly neighbors have quarreled, you know."

"I suppose not," Zelgadis said.

He relayed what he'd heard of the argument Xelloss had sensed the night before.

"Could it have something to do with Marcus trying to steal books from the Mala's library?" Zelgadis mused. "Or maybe Marcus just got tired of being belittled all the time. Not that it's not well enough deserved."

"I wonder," Xelloss said.

"I suppose Marcus went out to the tavern in a fit of spite," Zelgadis speculated. He gazed toward the hedge gate, beyond which the temple and village lay hidden in a deep bowl of fog. "Down by the docks somewhere, maybe. But he hasn't come back this morning. That could indeed be worrisome, if..."

Ah yes, Xelloss thought; worrisome indeed if he'd strayed while drunk too near the Bridge and the hooked point.

"He might have stumbled out of a tavern in the dark and wandered too near that place..."

"Misfortune comes from the black stones, " Zelgadis quoted. "If I were Kervan, that's what I'd be thinking. If there's been another attack... " he sighed wearily. "Still, it's not our problem."

Xelloss no longer had the luxury of indifference.

"I may not have mentioned that my new, additional orders are to continue to investigate the strange attacks, and report any information I happen to find," he said, almost apologetically.

Zelgadis glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, then just nodded.

"I suppose that's not surprising," he said. "All things considered."

All things meaning Myona, Xelloss thought. Even though he could sense nothing, he was certain Zelgadis was curious, at the very least.

Of course, this might have nothing to do with those incidents. There had been no new attack since Geki's escape, but then again, there had been a lot going on for a few days.

"Marcus would be just the kind to walk right into something like that, wouldn't he?" Zelgadis said grumpily. He sighed again. "I suppose I should go and take a look, too. We did tell Kemara we'd try to help."

Xelloss took the point: Zelgadis wanted to be clear that he was not doing this because of anything Zelas wanted! It didn't matter. He was obliged to investigate this now, even if Zelgadis went right back to his sword practice or his books and ignored the whole matter.

Zelgadis sheathed his sword and grabbed his cloak. A moment later, they left the cottage together.

When they got to the hedge gate, Kervan was already out of sight. He had not had time to get far inside the temple grounds, but the thick fog and the strange aura of the Temple had swallowed up any sign of him. They spent several minutes searching the nearby paths, trying to guess which direction he would have gone. Down and across the hill toward the gate, Zelgadis assumed.

Xelloss hovered above the ground, scanning the other pathways nearby, just in case Kervan had chosen a different route. There was no sign of him on any of the paths, as far as they could see or sense through the haze.

"Perhaps he went to the dining hall?" Xelloss suggested. "Maybe Marcus is only late with breakfast."

Zelgadis shook his head. He cast Levitation and rose up level with Xelloss, above the thickets and hedges that lined the maze of paths.

"I guess we should split up and ..."

He broke off suddenly, at the same moment that Xelloss noticed a startling spike of miasma. He cast about for the source.

"Look, there!" Zelgadis said. "Is that...?"

He pointed. Xelloss turned and saw, far off down the hillside, a dark, fluttering shape darting through the fog, just above the tree tops. He was almost certain it was Kervan - but he was flying.

The figure dipped lower suddenly and disappeared among trees and fog. At the same moment he vanished from Xelloss' senses as well.

"Was that... Kervan? Flying?" Zelgadis exclaimed.

Xelloss and Zelgadis stared at each other in surprise for a moment, then flew rapidly side by side down the hill.

next chapter: Missing Marcus - Xelloss and Zelgadis make a couple of astonishing discoveries about their neighbors.