Chapter 10

The Enemy of my Enemy

He dreamed. Discordant dreams, images so horrifying that upon waking he shivered. Dreams of disintegrating bodies, of light darker than shadows, of creatures too evil for this world. Dreams of Zeal falling, of Lavos' roars and his mother laughing. Dreams of his sister fading from sight.

Magus awoke with a start. Sweat shined on his pale forehead, slipping into his crimson eyes. He took a deep breath and tried to orient himself. The dark wizard glanced around his surroundings…a hut? Was he within the Earthbound compound…? No, it was too cold for that, the prophet realized as he drew his crimson cloak close against a sudden chill.

The surface, then. The Terran Continent. How'd he get here?

The dream taunted him, elusive in answers but intense in torment. Magus ignored it. It was after all, just a dream—a visual manifestation of his fears. What day was it? His eyes cast about for his scythe and saw it lying a foot away. He snatched it up, feeling better for being armed.

What day was it? The day of Lavos, yes…But something was not quite right…

As soon as the prophet started to rise darkness swam into his vision. He stumbled back down, confused at his own weakness. By the Reaper, he was injured! Magus could see the slash across his chest, treated with some sort of plant. Stubbornly, the dark wizard climbed to his feet, trying to piece the last few days together…

"Ah, you're up!"

Magus' grip tightened on his scythe as he looked up. The Earthbound Elder stood in the archway with a Zealian woman at his side. It was the Elder who'd spoken, his crinkled skin forming a smile. "You are fortunate to have survived. When they brought you to me, I'd feared you'd dead. So, now that you're awake might I ask who you are?"

Ignoring the question, the dark wizard snapped, "Survived what"

Stepping into the hut, the Enlightened offered him a tray of food but the prophet lifted his weapon in warning. Unafraid she merely set to task cleaning the hut. It startled Magus to see that. An Enlightened…cleaning! He glanced sharply at the Elder. Even for one of his stature, the lowest of the Zealians would outrank him…He should be the one tidying up….

What in the Void had happened?

He couldn't keep the note of hysteria from his voice. "Survived what?"

The Elder and the Enlightened exchanged looks. She answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, as if she spoke of the color of sky. "The fall of Zeal."

Lost and irreplaceable…

For a moment, all the prophet could do was deny it. Desperately, Magus fought off the evidence—a Zealian deferring to an Earthbound, his presence in the hut, his wounds, his dreams—but one by one the words stabbed into his heart. His legs failed him and the dark wizard slumped to the dirt floor.

Both the Elder and the Zealian woman moved to help him, but the shine of madness in his eyes made them keep their distance. Under his own power, Magus rose, scythe in hand. Despite the knowledge part of him would never believe until he saw, with his own eyes, the empty sky. The Elder and the woman were speaking but he was too fast on his feet to hear or care.

As he hurried from the hut, the dark wizard bowled over an Earrthbound but didn't even look back. Several Enlightened stared at him in shock or amusement, huddled around a fire and the naked trees. They also did not exist for Magus. He pleaded, as his gaze lifted, that he was still dreaming.

A bright afternoon sky greeted him. An empty sky.

The Kingdom of Zeal was gone.

"No…" Like a man faced with his own death and unwilling to acknowledge it, Magus scanned the skies feverishly, twice, thrice and many times over. The mask he'd so tightly fit over his face slowly cracked and for once, the sorcerer didn't care that others saw that. Didn't care that one tear, then another and many others, slowly made their way down his cheeks.

As fifteen years ago when Ozzie's assassin had first attacked a young Janus and drove him insane, this pain led him to the old madness. Ah, madness was on old friend of his, for many bloody days and nights. Magus had thought the insanity cured or at least controlled. He had erred. A filter of madness visited his mind.

I'm afraid.

I'm lonely.

Why don't my mother love me?

Where is my sister?

Where am I?

Who am I?

What am I?

Am I?

I?

"Are you alright?" one of the Earthbound women asked, two Zealian guards flanking her. Tears frozen upon his face, his heart frozen in chest, Magus stared at her blankly. Slowly reality and sanity crawled back into his head, long enough for him to give throaty affirmative. There was doubt upon her face which was reflected tenfold by her colleagues but she and they left him alone.

The moment of madness frightened the dark wizard far greater than he wanted to admit. I cannot remain here…But where was he to go? He'd lost his homeland, for whatever that was worth. He'd lost his family…Magus swallowed against the overwhelming despair lest it overtake him again. He could feel the eyes of the Enlightened and Earthbound on him, some with pity, some with suspicion. His hand closed around the scythe as the dark wizard finally picked his path.

Not really picked; Magus had no destination and no real direction. Snow up to his knees kept the process slow but for the first time since returning to this time, the self-professed prophet had no deadline. The firelight of the encampment dimmed as he trudged further and further away. That suited him just fine. Magus could barely stand to be with himself—the presence of others was driving him crazy.

If I'm not already.

Sleet slashed into his face but he welcomed it, welcomed anything that pulled his mind from the thought of the disaster. Head bent low, scythe trailing the snow, Magus trekked a loosely northwestern direction. As he drew nearer and nearer to a hill, he recognized his destination as the same place where he and Jarl had discussed Alura's death and the imminent fall of Zeal.

How appropriate…

And, always, the empty sky followed.

Determined to escape the implications of that, Magus stumbled into the cave on the side of the hill. It was uninhabited but that came as little surprise. Any sane creature would have abandoned this harsh terrain long ago. Considering what happened, the Terran Continent would soon see a rebirth of sorts, the melting of the Ice Age.

That wouldn't be for a while, of course. Approximately a few thousands years if he estimated correctly.

Magus threw his scythe down and backed into a corner, sliding down to the floor. He felt cold, numb and not all of it from his hike up here. Again, the tears came and this time, the Great Magus, prince and prophet and ruler, could not dismiss them. He sobbed bitterly, angrily, cursing fate, his mother, Lavos and himself.

I've lost everything…except my pitiful life…A life I no longer want…

His shoulders shook as cried, ears deaf to the shrieking of the outside wind. Memories stormed the dark wizard. All the times he'd excused some injustice visited on him or on others from him with the ultimate destruction of Lavos. All the times he'd placed that barrier to his emotions and to the pain because he thought it would serve him when he finally met his sister again. All of it felt so pointless now…

His whole life was meaningless….

Slowly, his face lifted from his hands, his gaze falling on his discarded scythe. The physical wounds he'd suffered with the encounter with Lavos would heal—they were almost already. But the wound to his soul would fester making him wish he'd died but denying him that peace because he hadn't…

Is it true…what the Enlightened say…that when we die…we go to see loved ones?

As if of its own accord, Magus's hand crawled to the weapon. He touched it briefly and drew a deep breath. Then one by one his fingers wrapped around the hilt. His eyes shut tight and the dark wizard conjured up pleasant memories: memories of playing hide and seek with Schala, of petting his cat, of any moment that could stem the fear of what he was about to do.

You bastard Lavos! You destroyed everything I treasured and then left me to live in darkness again. You will not have the pleasure of seeing me live a life chosen by you!

The blade touched his throat…

"Well, I fail to see the point of that."

Startled, the dark wizard nearly dropped his weapon as he opened his eyes to the sound. Standing to blot out the snow in his opulent blue robes was Zephyrain. The wizard shook his head from side to side, white hair fanning out. A disgruntled expression was clearly displayed on his face and he added, "After all, that won't help matters."

Magus' lips pulled back to expose teeth. "Shut up old man and leave me be!"

The wizard's hands lifted. "Alright, it's your choice to let Lavos win…I bet he's laughing his head off because he doesn't even have to kill you—you'll take care of that for him!"

With a sigh, the prophet lowered his scythe. Had he the passion, Magus might have cleaved the impudent old man in two. But he did not and so muttered, "Speak your piece and be gone."

Blue cloak trailing behind him, the wizard paced about the cave, tapping a finger to his lips. "Hmmm…So, looks like old Lavos blew up the kingdom again. Not exactly the fairytale ending, huh?" When Magus lifted his weapon again, Zephyrain frowned and continued in another vein, "Moving on…anyway, since you lost everything, again, I figured you'd be a bit more open to my suggestion this time around."

Curiosity finally overcame despair and the dark wizard drew up to his full height. He dwarfed the wizard easily by a foot but the man didn't seem even the slightest disconcerted. That bothered Magus. He was use to inspiring fear in others. As he considered the bizarre man, the words he'd spoken finally sunk in.

"You cannot mean that idiotic request to join those damn time-travelers!" His face flushed in anger. He had no personal vendetta against the others but Magus wouldn't even consider allying himself with Glenn. Not as if that frog would stay his hand either. Especially not if he knows that by my death the curse around him will vanish.

"A pebble may do nothing but a few stones thrown together might change the course of history…"

Magus sneered. "You've said that before. What possible use of them could I make? They didn't defeat Lavos…"

"And neither did you…but they did beat you!"

"Don't remind me," the dark wizard snarled. He was tiring of this debate. "At least I didn't get myself killed like their stupid leader."

As if pleased by that observation, Zephyrain clapped his hands. "Yes, which is precisely how you will help them. They will come here in two days, after all, looking for a way to bring him back. To earn their trust you will tell them of the Chrono Trigger." The wizard's blue eyes shut and he fell into a trance.

"Once lost life is not reclaimable by normal mortal means. The only avenue of resurrection lies in defying time as it struck the blow, trigging a moment of suspension in time. There the lost one can be replaced and time restored. Only one artifact can do this without damaging the integrity of time: The Chrono Trigger."

"Myth." Magus waved his hand dismissively and turned to face the cave opening. His eyes narrowed as he watched the storm. "And should an artifact even exist I would use it for Schala and not that foolish boy."

Taken aback, the wizard said plainly. "But you can't use it on the living…" He bit his lip after the words popped out. "Err, um, nevermind."

Hair and cape swirling, the prophet turned to face Zephyrain. His face drained of color and the scythe fell from nerveless fingers. "The living…! You mean Schala is…." Motes of dust magic floated around the old wizard making him too insubstantial for Magus to grab him. "No, wait, damn you! Tell me, is she…!"

"Oh, dear, I've said too much…Seek out Gaspar; he will know how to help you…And remember: should one know how to bend the Wings of Time to his will he can alter the flow of time…"

And then he was gone. Stunned the prophet backed against the cavern wall needing the hard flat surface to steady him. Could he even dare to dream that his sister had survived the fall of Zeal? Placing that within the realm of possibility might rend the last of his sanity should it prove untrue…but if there was even the slightest hint of hope...?

Then he would take it. If he did not Magus would have nothing else left to live for. Then another thought danced at the fringes of mind. Hot blood pulsed through his veins, dispelling the winter chill. He could not defeat Lavos. They could not defeat Lavos. But what if they should work together…

Two days he'd said. Magus could wait that long. He could wait for all of time, in fact.

"Some Time Travelers…can't even keep a bloody date of two days…Time Fools is more like it…Yes, that sounds more like it…." Magus grumbled to the dark skies, the naked trees, the freezing wind—anything and everything. The former prince swore as he slipped on a patch of ice he'd mistaken for a snow dune.

His time was unlimited—but his patience wasn't.

Over his shoulder, the sorcerer hefted a sack of food, a change of clothing, and a few items to make his habitation of the cave more comfortable until the Time Travelers got back from…whatever stupid errand they were on. Zephyrain had claimed they would be here in two days yet three had already passed. For a prophet he could be extraordinarily shortsighted about the near future…

Late Time Travelers, prophets that couldn't predict a simple event…Magus chuckled darkly. Yes, they didn't call it the Dark Ages for nothing. Magus cursed again, as another slab of ice deceived him and shifted swiftly beneath his feet. He crashed to his knees, the bag flying over his head to land in a heap a few feet ahead of the former prince.

Good thing the cave was only a dozen yards away. Clearly, Magus had not recovered so well after his battle—if one could call his pitiful attack against Lavos's overwhelming power a battle—as he'd initially believed. That, and the former mystic leader had overextended himself while scouring the coast for Schala.

Magus's hand stretched out for the bag and his fingers barely touched it when he heard a soft noise. His hand halted. What was that? A baby? Out here? He listened, his body as still as the stones poking out from the snow. There it was again! No child was that. An animal, and, from the sound of it, gravely wounded.

Lying five feet ahead of him and to the right was a purple cat, its lower left paw in the teeth of a vicious rabbit trap.

"Meow…"

"Alfador!" The wizard's crimson eyes widened. Magus ignored his bag and rushed to the side of his injured pet. It was most definitely Alfador; the cat even meowed as if in recognition of its long-lost master. Blood pooled his lower body with more seeping out from where his paw was entrapped.

Why had the cat sought him out….and, more astonishingly, how had he found him?

Magus shook his head. No time to ponder that now. A hand upon its chest revealed to him a very weak life-beat. Quickly, the former prince glanced at his scythe then shook his head. No doubt that the weapon could cut through the trap with ease but the risk to Alfador was too great. He drew a knife, one he'd bartered off an Earthbound.

The snow and wind continued its assault on the wizard's pale face but he did not draw his gaze from his task; dared not. A single misstep and he could kill the cat. Magus already lost too much in his life to suffer another disaster—he wasn't sure his fragile state of mind would endure the death of his pet without the madness going after him again.

"Hang in there, Alfador."

Damn you, this had better work! Don't you die on me Alfador! Don't you leave me like everyone else!

The work was slow and painful. Alfador barely moved, as if understanding its master's intent…that, or more evidence of his failing strength. Magus cursed as the trap snapped back into place around the cat's leg a second before he could slip Alfador free. The former prince had almost gotten himself stuck along with the cat.

And then, mercifully, the cat was free. With a single determined tug and the trap jerked open long enough for Magus to haul the leg out. Alfador meowed as its master took him up in his arms. Magus glared hatefully at the trap, considering blowing it to bits with a lighting bolt. The impulse faded. He certainly better things to use his waning magic reserves on.

And there was a cat to consider.

The sorcerer lifted his bag from the snow and slung it over his shoulder again, careful to keep Alfador cradled in his left arm. It was an awkward position and it slowed his pace to the cave but fortunately the distance was not far. Stepping inside, Magus shrugged off his bag and then gently laid the cat as near the fire as he dared.

Now how does one go about helping a wounded animal? Granted being a general of an army and then the dictator of a nation, Magus knew well of wounds having dealt countless himself. But he'd rarely had the opportunity to do any healing as his repertoire of spells did not include a single healing incantation. And, before that, being a prince meant that he'd never had to actually care for his pet regarding illness or injury.

Magus frowned as he saw the little golden eyes droop and heard the breathing becoming fainter and fainter. He did what he could to dress the wound and that seemed to help but Alfador needed nourishment the wizard knew. Rummaging through his bag, Magus drew forth a carrot then frowned. Like a cat, Alfador ignored it. The bread did no good either.

The wizard cursed his lack of foresight. Some prophet he was; not having anticipated the need to bring some meat.

If Alfador dies while I trek back to the village for fish…

Magus's eyes lit up and he snapped his fingers. "Just stay with me a bit longer, Alfador." A hand on his scythe, the sorcerer darted out of the cave. The harsh winds battered his form but the wizard ignored it as he rushed down to the ocean's edge. Naturally, the water was frozen and would be until very far out.

Glad to vent the frustration of the past few days, the sorcerer bashed the ice with his scythe and blasted it with great gouts of fire. Under that persecution it didn't take long for the surface to crack open a sizable hole one that the over-eager former prince almost staggered into in his haste.

Gritting his teeth, Magus thrust his hand into the hole. He gasped as the chilly waters pierced his glove but the sorcerer did not recoil; rather he shoved the hand farther down. For a few precious minutes, the fish eluded his grasp. Finally his efforts were rewarded when a single foolish fish lingered a moment too long and Magus drew it, squirming, out of the crack. One stab from his knife ended its struggles.

Magus returned to the cave, heart beating to an unseen drum. Every muscle in his body twitched as he saw Alfador lying still as death upon his cape. The sorcerer fell to his knees by the cat and shook him. For one terrifying moment, Alfador did not respond. Then he stirred, meowing piteously.

"Eat Alfador," he said as he pushed the fish to the cat's nose. "Just nibble a bit. It'll help you restore your strength." Magus took a deep breath as his own injuries from the disaster at Zeal pained from the recent exertion. His vision started to tunnel but the dark wizard snarled and shook it off. "Alfador, eat!" Finally, Magus resorted to slashing up the skin and sticking a few pieces into the cat's mouth.

Miraculously, Alfador chewed. Magus cheered softly.

"Meow…"

After the cat ate what appeared his fill, the sorcerer lifted the little body into his lap and sat down against the cavern wall. He stroked the purple fur, taking comfort in the task as he had in the past. Again, his sight dimmed and this time Magus could not dismiss it. His eyes shut and his body slumped. He could faintly hear purring.

Magus smiled…and then slept.

"Pray thee, do not get thy hopes up. We do not yet know if thy lad is alive."

Startled awake, Magus's eyes burst open, crimson as the expired fire. He felt wetness on his chin and glanced down to see Alfador licking it. Groaning, the wizard gently shoved the cat off him. He was pleased that the cat was back to his old self, purring and demanding attention. Absentmindedly, the sorcerer stroked the purple fur.

The Time Travelers….

"About damn time," the wizard muttered as he collected his cloak and his scythe. As Magus left the cave, Alfador dogged his feet for a few steps. The cat grew bored quickly, though, and chased after a rabbit that had poked out behind a tree. Chuckling, the wizard turned his attention to his visitors. Now that cat and master had been reunited he was sure to find Alfador when the caprice struck him

"There's always hope, right? The old man said that someone was looking for us! Who else could it be?" a female voice said.

Magus laughed. Stupid girl. The boy had been incinerated…the sorcerer doubted there was enough left of him to sweep up.

"Marle, I know this is hard to accept but you must consider that it's unlikely to be Crono waiting for us here…"

Letting the power surge through his body, the wizard floated up higher and higher, his cloak rippling out like flames. Magus crested the hill, his appearance drawing a course of gasps from those waiting. He did not hurry to meet and greet them; did not want them to know of his eagerness and impatience.

Nor did Magus exhibit his pain and sorrow; after all, right now they were his enemies.

And what they shall become only time can tell.

Smirking lazily, the sorcerer lightly touched the grass with his feet. The hill was the only part of the Terran Continent still spouting vegetation. Magus's hand grazed the scythe's hilt, a warning. That did not pass without notice or recourse. The three Time Travelers—Marle, the princess, Lucca, the inventor and, of course, Frog—kept their weapons near.

"Oh, it's you…" Magus said the smile still firmly in place.

"Magus!" The ring of steel cut the cold air as Masamune came cleanly out of her sheath.

He was tempted to say "In the flesh" but thought that sounded a bit too much like the silly Zephyrain. Instead, he took a deep breath and then launched into his speech. Maybe he'd win a few sympathy points from the girls; maybe not. It was worth a try. Magus had certainly devoted enough time into it the last few days.

"Behold!" His arms spread wide and high. "Everything's at the bottom of the sea…" His gaze lowered to the ocean, stunned by how the images of his past sprang upon the surface. Though it was only his mind's eye it felt so very real to the sorcerer. His voice wavered as Magus continued.

"Gone is the magical Kingdom of Zeal and all the dreams and ambitions of her people." To even utter the words cut to his soul and even threatened to rip the mask right off his face. Only through force of will did his face not reveal the torment inside as Magus turned to gaze at his audience.

They were captivated. Could be no more captive than if he'd cast a spell upon them. His smile returned, half amused, half-bitter. This was what his life had come down to—an interesting tale to be told during tea time or around a campfire. Magus himself had a hard time believing the past few days. Relating about them felt like he spoke of someone else.

"I lived there once…but I was different person then."

Again, the images sprang to life before the former prince. The memories flooded him and he could no more resist them than the power of Lavos. His fateful first encounter with that very beast. His separation from his beloved sister. His falling within Ozzie's hands and the first few steps that led him into the darkness.

All through this they listened, not questioning. Their inquiries might not have mattered anyway. Magus was as enthralled with his own tale as they were, suspended in the past. Only after another struggle did the wizard pull out to keep his face neutral, disdainful even. Earn a few sympathy points would be an advantage but not at the price of his dignity.

He'd not lost all his pride though that, too, had suffered a major blow

"So! Thou art…Thou art that filthy urchin!" Glen's snout flared.

Magus sighed. As a child he'd endured worse names than that. He suspected Janus's prophecy—for that it proved to be, stunning Magus himself—upset them, perhaps especially because they took no heed of it. You and me both, Time Travelers….we both saw and heard the signs that our respective goals were beyond our reach and still we went after them.

Blinking, the former prince trailed on, smiling sadly. "Ever since Lavos's time portal stranded me in the Middle Ages….I have waited to even the score." His smile soured to a frown. "You interrupted me just when I had summoned Lavos to my castle." The frown deepened. "How ironic that having been drawn into another portal I would even up in this era…"

Damn fate and her ironies!

"Being from the future my knowledge from the past enabled me to convince the Queen—" He would never again refer to that woman as his mother "—that I was a mighty oracle. But no history book—" Including Zephyrain's, thought Magus "—could have prepared me for what happened there."

His voice lost all dimension, like a wraith's. "Unimaginable is the power of Lavos…Anyone who dares oppose….it…meets certain doom…" Now his frown twisted back to a smile, or rather, a smirk. The words came out before he gave them due thought. "Just like that poor fool, Crono!"

That probably won't help my case…Still, Magus couldn't resist the jab. His own attempt at Lavos was foolish enough; Crono's was suicidal. Obviously. As anticipated his words heated the expression of his audience. Lucca had to restrain Marle else the princess might have thrown herself at the sorcerer and choke him. The inventor herself was more composed though her own eyes blazed.

Glenn spoke, his voice acidic. "You dare insult him!"

Laughing wasn't conducive to good fellowship either, but the former prince couldn't help himself. "He's history!" Literally. "Play with fire and you get burned!"

Storm clouds flashed in the frog's green eyes. Anger…and sorrow. Magus glanced away, experiencing an unexpected emotion: guilt. It scrapped against his conscience. He'd suffered greatly when Zeal crumbled but his loss was the same as theirs. They'd all lost someone near and dear to the heart. His taunting only poked at those wounds and certainly wouldn't help his case.

But did he really care to make this work, anyway? Two days ago the answer would have been a grudging yes but now…

Magus shook his head. Zephyrain's suggestion was the height of stupidity. There was no hope for them to work together. He still hated them for interfering with his summoning of Lavos and they didn't like or trust him that was clear, especially Glenn. The frog would probably be glad to see him dead.

Slowly, softly, the former prince felt the breeze upon his cheek. It wasn't the natural touch of winter. There was a malignance in the air and he knew it well: The Black Wind. A fight right about now might be ill-advised. Still, Magus clenched a fist. If they didn't settle this up now, one way or the other, he'd always be worrying that they'd planning to mess up his next venture.

"Do you wish to fight me?"

There. Said. Done.

The afternoon sun danced along Masamune's blade as she slipped back into her sheath.

"Vanquishing thee will neither return Crono nor Cyrus."

Magus mouth fell open momentarily. At first, the sorcerer figured Glenn was afraid of him but one look at the frog's face dismissed that. The eyes showed no fear—only a tired sorrow. Tired of seeing friends die and tired of fighting losing battles. Glenn waved to his friends and started silently down the hill. Muttering between themselves, both girls followed him.

Why had they not taken him up on the offer? And why did their refusal upset him?

Maybe I was harsh on them because I wanted them to accept my challenge. The emotions played upon his face so the sorcerer turned away, his sapphire-shaded hair fanning out. Maybe I'm too much of a coward to try to confront Lavos again. Maybe I was hoping to derive some joy out slaying them…Or that they could end my misery by slaying me.

Maybe Lavos had killed him for he was as dead as Crono.

"Wait!"

The Time Travelers halted.

"….I'll come with you."

What am I doing? These are my enemies…But they were also the enemy of Lavos. They also evidently had access to some time-traveling device. With them, he might yet achieve the two goals the dark wizard had longed for nearly his whole life—the destruction of Lavos and the recovery of his sister.

"Treachery!" Glenn's hand went to Masamune's hilt. The girls tensed up, as if expecting their friend to attack Magus at any moment. Magus himself wasn't so sure he wouldn't. The frog might decline open challenge but if he thought that the sorcerer planned to infiltrate them and then eliminate them…

He had to earn their trust and fast.

Magus smiled. He knew their one weakness…

"You know, there just might be a way to bring him back…"

The three tried hard to seem indifferent and disbelieving but the hope shined in their eyes. Marle gasped, hands going to her mouth while Lucca bit her lip. The frog's hand didn't leave the sword's hilt but the wizard could read from his stance that he would not draw it. Taking a few cautious steps forward, Magus stopped when Glenn spoke.

"Nonsense!" But Glenn's tone didn't match his words. He, too, wondered, hopeful.

Extending his hands out wide in an innocuous gesture, Magus smiled. It was as benign as he could make it, which wasn't very coming from him but the sorcerer couldn't manage better. This decision had not come lightly to him and it still grated at his solitary nature. "Gaspar, the Guru of Time, knows how to restore lost or misplaced time streams…"

That did it. He saw their resolve to refuse vanish as mist in the morning sun. The three exchanged glances, mistrustful but in full agreement. He would be allowed within their midst but Magus knew they would be keeping an eye on him. The sorcerer smiled and nodded. Good for them. He'd be watching them carefully too.

With an irritated wave, and Glenn indicated that the wizard should go ahead of him.

Allying with my enemies…Taking the advice of a crazy old man… I have totally lost it.

Insanity never felt so good.