Further inspection of the rooms around the cell area revealed a golem who couldn't tell them anything useful, a chest full of basic equipment, and the key to Jaheira's cell. Together at last, and armed for action, the four moved along the corridors, following Imoen as she searched for traps.

At one point she stopped, peering into the room ahead with a look of complete and utter disbelief on her youthful face. Gripping her staff a little more tightly, Duran moved to stand beside her, and stared. It was more of a cavern than a chamber, bedecked with orange and red crystals that sang a sweet note, seeming to clear away the pain of their captor's experiments.

A voice boomed across the cavern, making all four of them jump. Out of habit, Duran's hand thumped against Minsc's chest to prevent him attacking the djinni who appeared to them.

'Imoen, welcome! You have escaped somewhat later than I had hoped. I am Ataqah.'

Imoen glanced at her companions, looking just slightly confused.

'Hi,' she managed, her brow furrowed as she tried to work out why he would want to speak to her. Her fears were assuaged when the djinni noticed Duran.

'Ah, but I see whom I must talk to. No offence, Imoen, but I am curious to see how Duran will react to me.'

Suddenly, Duran was in the centre of the cavern, the djinni's arm about her shoulders. She could see her friends approaching cautiously as he spoke to her.

'Duran, I have questions! Be not afraid!' he declared. 'You have my welcome to my little piece of this place. I do so try to keep it more appealing than the rest.'

Duran blinked, trying to mask her surprise and scepticism. A house-proud djinni?

'My thanks,' she said, slipping out from under his arm. 'How is it that you know my name? What is going on here?'

Ataqah smiled, waving his arms expansively.

'Your name is well known among those who watch. Your life's thread is bright indeed, though in your path lies many a dark and frayed end.'

'That helps,' Duran heard Imoen mutter, only to be hushed by Jaheira.

'As to easing your mind and answering such questions as those that surely plague you,' Ataqah continued, looking apologetic, 'it is not my place to do so. I am sorry.'

'Then of what use can you be to me?'

The djinni looked affronted for a moment, before regaining his cheery smile.

'Such assistance as you will get from me depends on yourself. Are you prepared to answer a question?'

Duran's green eyes flashed with sudden suspicion, narrowing as she gazed on him.

'To what end?' she asked, her voice hard. 'Why do you need to ask me a question?'

Seeing her sudden hostility, Ataqah backed off a little, hoping to soothe her temper by giving her a straight truthful answer.

'I suffer a terrible curiosity; I see paths that branch in a thousand directions, and each a thousand again, but for all I see, Duran remains a mystery.'

'Oh come on,' Imoen said suddenly. 'I've known her nearly my whole life, and not even I can tell what she's going to do sometimes.'

Ataqah laughed.

'Ah, but you are not of those who watch, Imoen. With one answer, I will be able to see Duran as one of those threads I spoke of.'

Imoen looked distinctly unimpressed, as the djinni turned back to her friend.

'All I wish is a single answer,' he cajoled. 'Tip the scales this once to me and I will tip them back to you in return. Shall you answer me, or shall you strike out on your own?'

Duran could see distrust in her companions' eyes, but knew that at this point she couldn't afford to pass up any opportunity to learn more of this place.

'I will answer your question, if it will lead to your making sense.'

Ataqah beamed at her.

'Then here is my hypothetical question: You and your sibling are captured and locked in separate cells, unable to communicate. The mage responsible appears and speaks.

'He explains his sadistic game: In each cell there is a magical button. If you press your button and your sibling does not, you will die but your sibling is free. If your sibling presses the button and you do not, they will die but you will go free. If neither you nor your sibling press the buttons, both of you will die. If both of you press your respective buttons, both of you will die. The mage says you have one turn of the hourglass to decide your action, then he leaves.'

He watched as this sank in.

'Tell me, Duran, do you press the button?'

Images flashed through the young Bhaalspawn's head, images of Candlekeep, of growing up with Imoen. The thief had always been like a sister to her, and if Imoen was the hypothetical sibling, Duran knew, without having to think about it, what she would do.

'I will press the button,' she said firmly.

The djinni nodded reflectively.

'Interesting,' he said. 'No action can be performed without consequences. Especially that which follows the noble path.'

He grinned suddenly, and Duran felt her wounds heal, her strength returning with the speed of summer lightning. Glancing at her friends, she saw that they, too, had been healed. When she turned back to thank the djinni, he was gone. A whisper ran through the cavern.

'Deal with this, noble one!'

A great warcry erupted across from them, and the companions turned to find themselves faced with an ogre mage, busily casting offensive and defensive spells. Minsc tore across the cavern, flailing his sword about his head, and began laying into the ogre without fear of injury. Following his lead, Duran joined him, employing all the tricks that she had learnt over the last couple of years to try and defeat this powerful foe. She was vaguely aware of Imoen and Jaheira casting their own spells, and soon found herself fighting alongside a black bear, and two dogs, while the mage himself seemed to have lost the power of speech.

Without his ability to speak and cast spells, he was no match for the four fighters, and soon succumbed, dying with little fuss or mess. Ataqah applauded them from his perch in an alcove above them.

'Well done!' he enthused. 'It appears you can deal with the consequences of your actions. In return for this indulgence, I offer advice. Seek out Rielev. He waits for such as you. Offer him the release he craves and you shall find that the focus of your journey shall soon become apparent. Farewell!'

He disappeared, leaving them to exchange weary sighs and befuddled looks.

They slipped almost silently down the hallways, avoiding conflict where they could, and finishing off their enemies where it was necessary. In edging past a patrol of goblins, they backed into a room off the hallway, closing the door to wait for the stupid creatures to pass. Duran heard Imoen gasp, and whirled around to find herself in a large chamber. Around the edges and in the centre were large glass containers. Inside them floated creatures just recognisable as humans.

'I . . . I know this room,' Imoen whispered, her voice thick with horror and fear. 'I've been in here . . . we both have. . . He . . . there are things in these tanks . . . They used to be humans . . .'

Duran knew her friend well, and caught the hitch in her breath that meant tears were fast on their way. She made it to the young thief's side just as Imoen's knees gave way, and the two crumpled to the floor in each other's arms. Minsc made to lift them up, but Jaheira, who in some ways knew the girls as well as they knew each other, held him back, encouraging him to explore the chamber with her.

'What kind of monster is this guy?' Imoen sobbed, clutching at Duran's shoulders. 'Captures us easy as pie, kills whoever he wants . . . that could have been us in those glass things.'

Rocking gently, Duran stroked her friend's hair, trying to calm her.

'We'll get him back, Imoen,' she promised. 'We'll make him pay for all of this.'

Imoen's tears seemed to be drying up, and she sat back, still within the circle of her friend's arms.

'We don't even know where we are,' she pointed out.

'Minor detail,' Duran shrugged, having just realised the same thing.

Imoen smiled a little through her tears, grateful for her friend's sense of humour. Then she grimaced, hands going up to her temples in pain.

'My head is still doing funny things . . . He said something . . . something about potential. He said something like 'releasing power within you so it could be used, but if it means taking part in horrible things . . . I don't like this place. Can we go?'

Duran glanced up at Jaheira who nodded. The hallway was clear once again. They hurried from the ghastly chamber, trying the door opposite. The handle turned, and they were confronted with another golem, and a mephit that spat colour sprays at them. Once the annoying flying thing had been dealt with, they moved closer to the golem, which lurched and grumbled,

'Master? Is it you? You have given me no eyes and I cannot see you . . .'

After a hurried discussion, the women pushed Minsc forward, since he was the only man in their group. They doubted the golem was stupid enough to believe that its master had suddenly become effeminate.

'Uh . . .' Minsc sounded hesitant, stroking Boo for reassurance. 'Yes, it is I, your master. Have you been performing any services for me?'

'I have cleaned the sewage chambers and fed your guardian. Do you wish me to open the doors to the pit and begin my duties again?'

Minsc turned pleading eyes on Duran, who nodded vigorously, motioning him to reply.

'I do wish it,' he said miserably. 'Open the doors and perform your duties.'

Nothing happened. The golem shifted slightly, but didn't move.

'You have not activated my movement functions. You must use the activation stone.'

Again Minsc turned to his companions, this time completely lost for words.

'You've misplaced it,' Imoen hissed, stepping aside as Jaheira added, 'Ask it if it knows where the stone is.'

Blinking in confusion, Minsc returned his attention to the golem, who was waiting patiently for his orders.

'I seem to have misplaced the stone. Do you know where it is, my servant?'

'Rielev has the activation stone, master. It is on the table of his room. The table near his life-support jar.'

Minsc grinned in relief.

'Ah, of course,' he said cheerfully. 'How could I forget?'

Jaheira prodded him viciously in the back, pulling him out of the door before he could add anything to his innocent comment.

Now with a mission in mind, they continued along the passageways. Jaheira found a room that contained two deactivated golems, neither of which would speak a word to them. Fighting back goblins, the little group soon realised that they had walked a fair way without looking in any of the doors they passed.

'Well, we can always look on our way back,' Imoen said cheerfully, dodging an arrow that ricocheted off the wall behind her.

With the last of the stupid creatures dead or dying, the group turned, and found themselves in a library. Duran glanced at Imoen, and could see from the look on her face that they were both thinking of the same place.

'Oh, this reminds me so much of Candlekeep,' the thief sighed. 'Dusty old tomes all over, bookcases nearly spilling . . . it's like we never left . . . But we did, didn't we. Duran, I just want to go home again. I don't care where it is, just so long as I can call it home.'

Duran wrapped her arm about the other girl's shoulders.

'I know, Im. I know.'

In the distance they could hear the sounds of a forge, the hammering on an anvil, the hiss of white hot metal as it was plunged into cool water. Intrigued, they followed the passageway to the source of the noise, realising too late their mistake.

They had found a little smithy, manned by duergar, the deep mountain dwarves known for their evil tendencies. The four prisoners found themselves on the receiving end of many hostile glares, made worse by the sight of the weapons that appeared in their hands, seemingly from nowhere.

'Be alert, laddies! We've got company,' one of them said, stepping forwards to leer at Duran. 'Ho, prisoners! Ye've come to th' wrong place, I tell ye true! Ilyich and 'is boys'll stop you!'

Duran sighed, her fingers flexing around her staff.

'Here goes nothing,' she muttered and raised her voice. 'Would that I knew where this place was. I've no quarrel with you, duergar.'

The evil dwarves laughed, the cruel sound echoing around the smithy. Ilyich roared with laughter, his beady eyes glaring in intense hatred at the half- elf.

'Suffice to say, this place is your doom,' he informed her. 'By the time the master returns, you shall be dead, and we shall be rewarded. At 'em, lads! No mercy!'

Duran leapt out of the way as a hail of crossbow bolt flew at them, hearing the others crash to the floor in accord with her. A bolt caught the sole of her boot as she rolled behind some barrels, seeing her companions do the same. She could hear the duergar approaching, and knew she had very little time in which to prepare herself for a battle. A noise above her made her look up, just in time to see Ilyich thrust his sword down towards her.

She shifted, not able to get out of the way in time, and screamed in agony as the blade sliced down into her shoulder. In response to her scream, Minsc went Berserk, killing the duergar around him in an attempt to reach his injured friend. With Imoen and Jaheira at his side, they cut their way through the duergar, reaching Duran in time to cut down Ilyich as he prepared to finish off the bard. Duran collapsed forward, whimpering in pain as the blood flowed freely from her wound.

Cursing quietly, Jaheira knelt beside her, her fingers twitching into the mystical symbols of healing that she had learnt so many years ago. As she spoke the incantation, the bleeding stopped, and the wound closed, leaving a thin white scar where the sword had cut through her pale skin. The young bard groaned, jolting out of unconsciousness violently as the memory of the pain flooded her mind. She looked around at her friends' worried faces.

'Ow?' she offered, and was relieved to see genuine smile crack the fearful countenances around her. 'Come on, let's get going.'

As she pushed herself to her feet, something round and hard rolled beneath her fingers. Looking down, she saw three acorns on the ground beside her. It was such an odd find that she put them in her belt pouch, feeling certain that they were of some use.

By mutual agreement, they decided that there was too much risk in continuing this exploration, and that they should return to try the rooms they had passed on their way here. This turned up any number of completely empty chambers, until they hit upon one with a glass container set up against the wall.

'This must be Rielev's room,' Duran murmured, slipping into the gloom to find the activation stone for the golem. As she passed the jar, a thing moved within it, pressing its face against the inside of the glass to peer at her.

'Aaaa . . . who be thee? Servants of the master?'

With a sickening jolt, Duran realised that this must once have been a human like those others they had encountered.

'By the gods, what happened to you, man?'

The creature sighed softly.

'I am . . . dying . . or dead . . . I remember not which. Where is the master?'

Duran leant back onto the table, hearing her friends enter the room to join her.

'Who is this master that you speak of?'

'He was my friend, I think . . . cast out, and one of us no longer . . . I cannot remember . . .'

It paused for a moment, peering closer at Duran.

'Are you to take my place?'

Duran's eyes widened in disgust.

'As a servant of this bastard you call master?' she asked. 'I think not. Who are you?'

The creature sighed once again, this time in disappointment.

'It is difficult to . . . to remember . . . I was Rielev . . . dead, I think.'

Duran frowned, exchanging confused looks with her companions as she tried to make sense of this situation.

'I'm not sure that I understand what is going on here. Are you living or dead?'

A harsh laugh escaped its lips.

'Neither, neither,' it told her. 'I am . . . between . . . the master has forgotten me . . . not killed me.'

Duran stepped closer, raising a hand to touch the smooth glass.

'What do you mean by forgotten? Why are you in this . . . jar?'

'I was a . . . faithful hound to the master. A friend, even. I was . . . dying. Truly, you are a stranger to this place.'

It shifted about in the liquid of its jar to place an appendage against Duran's, a movement that tore at her heart. Her eyes were on a level with it, and she realised that if it could stand, it would be just a little taller than she.

'Eternal . . . life . . . was to be my reward for faithful service. The master has suspended me until he can cure me . . . return my youth to me . . .'

'How long have you been in this . . . state?' Duran whispered, horrified at Rielev's story.

'I know not . . . days . . . years . . . it is all the same and my mind cannot grasp it. All alone.'

A single tear suddenly leaked from Duran's eye as she comprehended how truly helpless the creature was to help himself.

'He has forgotten you, then, hasn't he . . . but if you were a faithful servant, why?'

'I begin to understand,' Rielev said, gazing at the glass that separated their hands in disgust. 'The master has left my side for study of another. He seeks to awaken power . . . a study of life and death, but I cannot bear the roll of the years.'

He pressed closer to the glass, as if trying to step closer to her.

'He has forgotten because he does not wish to remember . . . what was taken . . . I barely remember, myself.'

Duran swallowed past the lump blocking her throat.

'Do you want me to give you release from this non-death?'

Hope dawned on the pitiful creature's face, and it raised its voice in desperation.

'Release, yes . . . Master! I . . . I no longer wish to come back! Let me slip into the oblivion that has been denied me! Please!'

'Calmly, my friend. How is it that I can help?'

Rielev lifted hope-filled eyes to hers, and Duran knew that no matter the cost she would help him find death.

'This . . . unit that contains me is powered by cells, crystals. Take them, and I can sleep . . . die . . . die, at last. Will you take the cells?'

Duran smiled gently, nodding.

'I will. Have peace at last.'

Rielev's faced crumpled, and she realised that he was smiling back at her.

'I thank thee . . . go, and leave me to oblivion at last. Sweet sleep . . .'

With gravitas beyond her twenty-two years, Duran knelt beside the jar, seeking out the crystals that would give him his greatest wish. Taking a firm grip, she yanked them out. There was a flash and crackle, and the light in the jar faded and died. Rielev was at peace.