A week passed, yet it seemed like years to Atma as she laid in the bed she and Jali had shared since they married. He had the bed made for a wedding present for her; she remembered his smile as he said…

No, it was too painful, far too painful to remember. The problem was that everything reminded her of Jali, his clothes were still in the chest, his tools locked in the box under the bed, his books and strange ornaments from the West on their shelf near the window.

And Hara was worse, his room she hadn't been into ever since she curled up in a little ball on the floor and cried. She had carried him for ten cycles, held him in her arms and took him by the hand when he was small and prone to tripping over.

She had her memories, but she didn't have her family. Memories couldn't bring them back, but they couldn't take the pain away either.

"How's Atma?" Lysander asked Fara.

"She hasn't left her room in over a week," Fara replied glumly. "Tallia's managing the Jewel and keeps sending up some food, but she only picks at it."

"I only wish there was something I could do," Lysander said, leaning on his cane heavily.

"Not unless you can brew up a draught that can resurrect Jali and Hara," Fara said.

"The secrets of the dead are best left to those that guard it," Lysander replied. "Perhaps I can give her something to help her sleep."

"She won't see anyone," Fara told him. "The door is locked; Tallia and the serving girls leave the trays of food at the door."

"Perhaps I can help," Lysander said thoughtfully, making his way to the Jewel.

"Well you were right, Drognan," Jerryn said with a wry smile. "While I hate to admit it, you were right about what was coming."

They were sitting in the library pouring over the old records, trying to make some sense of what had awakened beneath the city. They weren't getting very far.

"While is foretold may be vague," Drognan replied melancholically. "It never lies, yet this I fear is only the beginning and it has something to do with that stranger you sent away so suddenly."

"I had no choice," Jerryn said, holding up his hands in submission. "But do you think Jali's death has something to do with the stranger's leaving?"

"No," Drognan said. "If it did then it would be simple. I think it has something to do more with what that stranger did while he was here."

"My lord," Vitran was entering the room, and what he had to tell looked urgent. "We've managed to detain someone, a man in a dark cloak and he's leading some sort of prisoner."

"Where are they?" Jerryn said, getting to his feet.

"I put them in one of the cells in the cellar," Vitran said. "But there's something about this person that's akin to that dark wanderer that left here a week ago."

"Have you restrained him" Jerryn asked.

"He's more or less willing to talk," Vitran said.

"This sounds rather odd," Jerryn said, then he turned to Drognan. "Come with me, you may have more luck ascertaining this stranger than I."

The stranger stood against the wall, the cloak he was mentioned of wearing was in a heap at his feet. He was dressed in the robes of a mage but neither Jerryn nor Drognan could identify the clan he came from. He looked rather afraid, but that was probably due to the fact that two guards has their swords pointed at his belly.

In the corner, being comforted by another guard was a small boy. He had a pale, dirty face and tangled, matted hair that hung over his face. He was dressed in rags and looked almost skeletal. But what struck Jerryn the most was the look of sheer terror on his face. But the boy would have to wait.

"Who are you?" Jerryn thundered, eyeing the mage suspiciously.

"I would rather not disclose my identity," the mage said curtly.

"Are you a fugitive?" Jerryn asked. "Whence have you come? Where are you going?"

"No, I am not a fugitive," the mage said, still eyeing the swords. "I come from the West and continue on to Kurast with my apprentice."

"Your apprentice?" Drognan said, staring at the mage as if trying to see through him. "From the way he has been treated I thought he was your slave."

"He has not been well," the mage replied unconvincingly.

"I'd say it has more to do with you than any illness," Drognan said. "I'd advise you Lord Jerryn to imprison this liar until we decide what to do with him."

"Then it shall be done," Jerryn said. "Keep an eye on him," he told Vitran, he then turned to the boy. "You can come upstairs if you like; I'll give you a bath, a hot meal and a warm bed."

The boy looked up cautiously, looking from Drognan to Jerryn and then back again. He seemed to consider this for a moment.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Jerryn said gently. "I want to help you, which is far better than what that mage is doing to you."

The boy didn't speak, but he let Jerryn help him up and lead him up the stairs into the palace proper.

"Drognan, is there some charm you can put on our captives door to keep him there?" Jerryn asked the old wizard.

"I'll see what I can do," Drognan said, going below.

A bath, a haircut and clean clothes did wonders for the boy and Jerryn was surprised to see how his guest actually looked that evening. He had the impression that the boy couldn't be over ten years old, but clearly he was approaching adolescence.

"Do you have a name?" Jerryn asked when the servers were pouring hot sweet drinks of cacao before the food was brought out.

"Sinclair, sir," the young man replied, cautiously sipping his drink.

Jerryn reminded himself that it was ignorance, and not rudeness, that prevented Sinclair from observing the customs of the land. Such as the man highest in rank began to eat or drink before anyone else at the table could.

"So, Sinclair how did you come to be with the mage?" Jerryn made the question as gentle as possible, not wanting to press the boy too much.

"I don't remember," he said after a long pause. "All I can think of is riding on a horse with someone, then being carried on a horse in a bundle. That and my own name."

"So you don't remember your family?" Jerryn asked. "Your father, your mother, all a big blank?"

"There are images, voices," Sinclair said taking a bit of bread when it was offered to him. "But nothing certain sir, no."

"I see," Jerryn said as the first of the meat dishes was brought out.

"Something's been done to him, but I don't know what," Jerryn said to Drognan after. "I was hoping you would know; are there any dark magics that can erase memory?"

"Yes," Drognan said, his eyes on the night sky outside. "But memory loss can also stem from a traumatic experience which is no doubt what this poor boy suffered."

"Well, he's resting now," Jerryn said. "And I put a guard on his door just in case."

"In case of what?" Drognan asked, turning to look at him.

"My own peace of mind I guess," Jerryn said with a shrug. "Have you heard about Atma?"

"I was talking to Lysander, he gave her something to help her sleep," Drognan said sadly. "It was a great tragedy; I don't think anyone could have taken a great blow better than Atma has. She's grieving and she's been given time to, Fara talks to her now and again…well tries to and the Jewel is being run well in her absence. Do you mind if I impart one last piece of advice?"

"Go ahead," Jerryn said, stifling a yawn.

"I'm afraid what happened in the sewers will draw adventurers from all over the place like when Diablo took control of Tristram," the wizard said. "By all rights you should close the port until the troubles are over and increase the town's security."

"I'll make the necessary orders in the morning," Jerryn said, stiffening another yawn. "Goodnight, Drognan."

The sorcerer mumbled something that was in the direction of some form of answering to Jerryn but resumed his examination of the heavens. There was much to be had here, much to be gleaned.

Satya was lying on the couch in his chamber when Jerryn entered, when she heard him removing his clothes she opened one eye. Then, when he sat down next to her on the couch she put her hands on his naked shoulders.

"You're tired, aren't you?" She asked, kissing the nape of his neck and massaging his back.

"The pressures of state," Jerryn said. "The nature of unexpected guests."

"Unexpected guests," Satya leaned forward to catch his eye. "Do you mean that man and his slave that came tonight?"

"How do you know about that?" Jerryn asked, looking at Satya incredulously.

"I hear things," she said mysteriously.

"Satya, this is serious," Jerryn said, sitting up and pushing the whore's hand away. "No, listen to me. What goes on here stays here, you have to understand that."

"I understand," Satya said with a sad smile. "But that doesn't stop him from being afraid."

"Afraid?" Jerryn stared at her. "You have nothing to worry about. I have that mage under lock and key and that dark wanderer should be half-way to Kurast by now."

"It's not just me," Satya told him. "The other girls, our house is right near the entrance to the sewers. I haven't heard them myself but the cries of what is below there terrify the girls and scare away the customers. Preshna's furious a business is going down."

"She would be," Jerryn said, yawning suddenly. But he rang a bell and one of his servants came at once. "Tell Vitran to set a guard outside the Harem Guild." The servant nodded then left without a word. "Satisfied?"

"The guards will probably deter customers," Satya told him. "And they will probably want services for free."

"I'll speak to Preshna in the morning but I'm tired," Jerryn said, yawning again and then turning off the light. "Go to sleep."

It was three weeks after her son and husband were killed that Atma decided to go on living. Slowly at first, she tended the bar, gave orders to the serving girls and maintained polite conversation when it was required, but otherwise she was silent. Besides, what was the purpose of enjoying life if the ones she loved were no longer there?

"I'm worried about Atma," Tallia confessed to Fara. "She's gone from lying there listless in her bed all day to working herself to death."

"Everyone copes with pain differently," Fara reflected. "Atma has suffered a most grievous loss and it is hard to predict how she will react. All you can do is be there to catch her when she falls."

"You are the best for that," Tallia said but Fara shook her head.

"She does not speak to me or anyone," Fara said. "I respect that and I have told her that I would be there if I needed her, I suggest you do the same."

"So you are saying she could collapse again?" Tallia asked.

"Most definitely," Fara replied. "Be ready when it happens."

Standing out in the main street of Lut Gholein as they were, Fara and Tallia were the witnesses to an odd spectacle. Led by Preshna, the women of the Harem Guild formed an odd sort of parade all walking in a group carrying their belongings. Guards were at the head and end of the group and the rear and let all of them into the palace, which Tallia and Fara discovered by following them.

"I dislike brothels and those who run them," Fara said. "They lead to honourable men doing dishonourable things, bur Jerryn must be taking no chances."

"What do you mean?" Tallia asked her as they walked back to the Jewel. "He could have invited them."

"With the danger of the vermin beneath our very feet?" Fara asked her. "Not likely, the harem is closest to the entrance."

"I see," Tallia said thoughtfully. "So we could all be in danger?"

"Drognan put several spells to contain the evil," Fara reassured her. "But that might not be the only entrance."

"Oh," was all Tallia could say.

Fara approached Drognan when Tallia had returned to the Jewel, there was something more behind what they had seen than met the eyes. She found the old sorcerer pouring over old records in his small house.

"Oh, hello," he said, not even looking up when she entered the one-roomed dwelling. "I suppose you've come to ask my why Jerryn has sent all the harem girls to the palace?"

"Correct," Fara said, sitting across from him at the table. "I gather it just isn't because he invited them."

"It seems harmless enough," Drognan said mildly.

"But it isn't," Fara insisted. "Not with the vermin beneath the city or the dark wanderer's coming."

Drognan didn't answer.

"Tell me, what's going on?" Fara asked.

"Do not ask what I do not wish to tell," Drognan replied. "One piece of advice: gather your wits about you."

Fara knew that was all she was going to get out of him so she left without another word.

"Have you seen Sinclair?" Jerryn asked Vitran when the harem girls were settled.

"Who?"

"The boy who was with the mage," Jerryn said. "He was in his room and the servants promised to keep an eye on him but now he is not."

"I'll see to it that he is found," Vitran said, saluting Jerryn and walking off.

"Oh, and Vitran," Jerryn said before he was out of sight. "The women are here as our guests, they must be treated accordingly. Inform your men that."

"I shall, my liege," Vitran said.

He found Sinclair in the third level of the harem walking towards the stairs. He didn't notice Vitran approaching, but the Captain of the Guards realised what was happening. Without a word he took Sinclair's wrist firmly and marched him back upstairs. He left the boy in his room and called two guards to make sure the boy didn't leave.

Then he went to find Lord Jerryn. He was dining with his 'guests' and was rather angry at being disturbed.

"This better be important," Jerryn said curtly.

"I think the boy will be a danger," Vitran said. "I found him on his way down the to the palace cellar, perhaps the mage had him under his control."

"That is possible," Jerryn said, stroking his short beard. "Have you posted a guard at Sinclair's door?"

"Yes, my liege," Vitran answered.

"Double it, and close all the windows," Jerryn said. "If that mage is freed he may murder us all in our beds. I'll have to do something about him tomorrow."

"Of course, my liege," Vitran said. "Is there anything else I can do?"

"Not at present," Jerryn said. "Notify me the moment there is anything strange. Even if it in the middle of the night."

Drognan sat with his starchart in front of him on the roof of his house, studying the heavens. According to his calculations what he predicted should happen in the next few days, if not sooner. While it seemed impossible to comprehend the old sorcerer accepted the dire nature of events that were only just unfolding, Jerryn said he accepted his warnings but Drognan was not going to alarm the young lord of Lut Gholein, competent as he was, with what he knew was going to happen.

There it was, a sign that things were falling into motion. A falling star, no two, three shooting stars that streaked through the sky in tandem before scattering in different directions. Drognan studied the moving pulses of light with one of his instruments. Holding it up to his eye, Drognan examined the phenomena more closely.

What he saw astounded him. The three stars drew in towards each other and collided, a bright flash of light and a starburst, then nothing.

Drognan hurried inside and grabbed his staff. Within seconds he was on his way to the palace, clearly it was much worse than he thought.

With Satya on one side and a girl named Prithi on the other side, Jerryn slept soundly. The sound of running footsteps made his eyelids flicker slightly. But it was the bloodcurdling screams that drove him from his slumber and onto his feet.

"What is it?" Prithi asked but Satya knew it was better not to say anything; Jerryn simply threw on a robe and left the room. But we retraced his steps and locked the door.

"Don't move," he warned them.

Vitran was running up to him and next to him, at a much slower pace was Drognan.

"Is it as we feared?" Jerryn asked.

"No, it's worse," Drognan answered before Vitran could. "Much worse."

"What's happened?" Jerryn asked Vitran as they both followed him below.

"There seems to be an attack coming from the cellars," Vitran said. "My men can't seem to locate the source, they're being cut down by demons."

"Demons?' Jerryn asked, he stopped in his tracks.

"That is all they can be described as, my lord," Vitran said respectfully.

"Drognan, you know more about this than all of us," Jerryn said. "Tell us how to fight this threat."

"That I cannot," Drognan said regretfully. "Nor can I tell you whence it came. What I can tell you is this: what we have experienced before and what we deal with now is but the tip of a string of cataclysmic events." He said slowly. "I saw it tonight in the heavens, three stars moving together, parting then destroying each other. What the ancients have feared for so long has now happened."

"But what do we do now?" Jerryn asked.

Before anyone could answer a woman in a deep red robe appeared, her hair was plastered over her face like a mask. She smiled at them through the tangled mass of hair, blood and smeared make-up before toppling at their feet. Jerryn and Vitran were ready to catch her and laid her gently on the ground.

"It's Preshna," Vitran said, wiping the hair away form her face. "Her throat was cut."

Jerryn took his own hand away, then stared at it in shock. Her dress wasn't read, it was wet with her own blood. The blood continued to flow, making puddles on the floor.

Jerryn grabbed a short sword from the suit of armour that stood by the door and went down the stairs where Preshna had come from.

"My Lord!" Vitran called from what seemed like a long way off. "It's too dangerous."

Jerryn didn't hear them, whore or not anything that evil didn't deserve to live. If only he could had a part in its death before it was driven from his palace. His palace…

The sight of what met him at the bottom of the stairs made him stop in shock. He had expected to find horror, he had expected to find disorder, hideousness, wickedness…but nothing of what Vitran had said upstairs, or what he had read of Evil could have prepared him for what he saw.

A ring of skeletons slashed at a girl's body, she was screaming for mercy but they paid no heed to her cries. Elsewhere fleshy beats engaged in combat with his guards, but at all the blood on the floor and on their bodies it was apparent who was winning.

Corpses were everywhere, scavengers were over the bodies, pulling off bits and devouring them, chattering to each other and fighting for the best feed. And over the entire scene a stench hung over like a cloud, an atmosphere of blood, evil and fear.

It took less than a few seconds for Jerryn to take all this in then he was spotted. Several of the scavengers scuttled over, nipped at his feet as he tried to cut them down with his sword. Several bright flashes of fire finished them off.

Then, just as the group of skeletons were starting to take an interest in him, a wall of fire emerged from the ground between him and everyone else in the room. Jerryn looked back, Drognan was standing there holding his staff ready and Vitran ushered him towards the back of the room.

"My Lord, I strongly recommend that you go to the upper levels," the guard said.

"I am willing to…" Jerryn protested.

"I took an oath to protect your life with my own if need be," Vitran urged. "Now go, let me have this last boon."

"You don't have to…" Jerryn said but he found himself turning around and following Drognan up the stairs. He tried to dull his ears from the cries of horror and clashes of steel, it was next to impossible but he kept walking.

"DROP!" Drognan shouted and Jerryn immediately flattened himself against the floor, just in time to avoid a blast of flames that went over his back and singed part of his hair.

Something scratched his ankle, automatically kicking and screaming when something hard and sharp lodged its claws in his foot.

"Get it if off me!" Jerryn screamed as Drognan raised his staff again and cast lighting bolts. Whatever was attacking him, stopped.

"Crawl, just get up here," Drognan yelled, casting several more lightning bolts.

Hand by hand, Jerryn made it up the stairs and rolled just in time to avoid another blast of fire from Drognan's staff.

"Some warning would have been nice," Jerryn said, cautiously getting to his feet. His foot was slashed and bleeding where he had been attacked. "Vitran, he's…" but before he could say anything a wall of fire appeared in the doorway. Jerryn turned back to Drognan. "How are my guards going to get out?"

"They won't," Drognan said, then added quickly. "This is a threat that none of us alive today have faced, true Evil itself."

"And that is supposed to explain why you have condemned my men to death?" Jerryn demanded.

"We are all dead men, it's only a matter of time," Drognan started walking. "We'd best get to the tower."

On a hose riding due south was the dark cloaked rider, on the back of his saddle he had Sinclair tied up and drugged. Diablo's presence had barred any passage east, but there were other ways across the Twin Seas.