Far to the east, the sun filtered down through the thick canopy of the forest that covered the base of Demon's Head Mountain. Trees that seemed to be made of twisted vines reached up toward the sky, tangling their branches where they grew too close together. Strange mushrooms of every color but the same shape grew everywhere, with small spots covering their tops that spread like umbrellas on the ends of tall, slender stems. Insects flitted about in swarms over small streams, their iridescent wings flashing with color as they passed through shafts of light. Birds flew overhead, crying out with their various calls to one another, all at different tones. And small leapt from the water snapping at the insects hovering above, their prism-like scales turning them into living rainbows as they sailed through the air.

In the middle of all this alien beauty, the three travelers from Kanalis walked along. Leon Redbeard led his companions through the strange forest world, his confidence never faltering as Emily and Miskit followed him. While Emily had her staff to help her along, Leon and Miskit walked without any such aid. They had been walking nonstop for half a day, and although Emily's feet were starting to complain, she remained silent, determined not to let weariness interrupt her mission.

Still, that didn't stop her from being curious. "So, Leon," she said. "This curse. Is it contagious at all?"

The fox considered the question carefully before answering, "Fortunately, no. Tough it can affect others."

"In what way? I mean, it's obvious it would turn them into some kind of animal, but how does it determine which one to turn them into?"

Leon was silent for a long minute as he searched his mind for a plausible answer, but found none. "That I don't know," he said. "It doesn't affect them physically, even if a curse victim and another share some form of physical contact. But it delivers a huge emotional blow."

"I imagine so," Miskit remarked.

"The only way it could physically affect another is if the other person was the offspring of a victim." He turned around and walked backwards briefly, gesturing to himself. "As you can see, I'm one of them."

"How did it affect you?" Emily asked. "Outside the physical appearance?"

Leon halted and let out a deep sigh, and Emily could clearly tell that her inquiry had struck a deep wound. "It scarred me in more ways than one," he said softly, turning to face her. "Besides changing my outward appearance, it left me with irreparable emotional wounds. The friends I had then abandoned me, my mother died from shock when she was transformed, and my father died in the line of duty." Then he turned around and kept walking, more to hide his tears. "If you don't mind, I would appreciate it if we didn't bring it up again."

"Of course," Emily replied, her voice full of remorse. "I didn't mean to pry. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You didn't know." A short while later, Leon stopped in a small clearing. "We'll stop here," he announced.

"What?" Miskit asked, confused. "We haven't even started climbing yet!"

Leon had almost forgotten about the pink rabbit's presence, and this rude reminder had tapped his temper. Checking his annoyance, he looked back and replied, "We can't continue without proper preparation."

"But we're ready now," Emily told him.

"No," Leon said as he drew his sword. "You're not." Pulling his sword from the sheath on his back, he continued. "Before we go on, you must learn to control your powers. Otherwise, you will be a greater threat to us than our enemies."

"But her mother grows worse by the hour," Miskit reminded him. "We don't have time!"

"Then we must work quickly." Leon knelt and bowed his head as if addressing royalty, holding out his weapon. "I offer you my sword as a sign of trust and friendship."

Emily considered the offer with confusion. "Why do I need a weapon?" she asked.

The fox looked at her. "It will help to channel the power and focus the energy," he explained.

Emily considered a moment longer, then came to a decision. "Keep your sword," she said. "You have more skill with than I do. And you will likely need it at some point in the future. Won't this staff do just as well?"

"Not as well," Leon replied. "It's wood, as the sword is metal. Part of the energy that is released by the stone is electrical, and wood is much less conductive than metal." He replaced his weapon. "But I won't argue if you think it will suffice. It should be adequate for our purposes. Now follow me." He turned and kept walking, but only made it a few steps when Emily called to him.

"Leon." He stopped. "Why are you doing this?" she asked, looking slightly worried. "Why are you helping us?"

Looking at her from the corner of his eye, he answered. "Because in the end, it will be you who will have to be helping all of us."

Emily looked scared. Knowing that such a gargantuan task lay ahead of her was overwhelming. "I don't understand."

Leon turned to face her, his eyes serious. "How much did Silas tell you of his life's work?"

Emily was surprised at being asked about her great-grandfather. "I…never got the chance to speak with him," she said. "He passed away just before my brother was born. I was only two then."

Leon took in this information. "He must have told you something while he was alive."

Emily dug through her memory. "I seem to remember him telling me stories about his doings in life," she said, "but to someone who's not yet old enough to fully understand the concept of a pencil, it all seemed like fantasy to me."

Leon almost took this as an insult to all he'd been trying to help achieve, but was forced to admit she was right. To someone who was only just beginning to understand the concept of mobility, such information would come across as fantastic imagination. He snuffed his temper before it could explode. "Well," he answered calmly, "what he would have told you, if you could have understood it, is that there is a group of freedom fighters working to break the elf king's tyrannical grip. Silas, your great-grandfather, was one of them. And now, you have taken his place."

"But I didn't ask for any of this," Emily replied defensively. "I didn't even get the chance to decide whether or not I wanted it. I just got it. All I want is to find a cure for my mom and get my family home safely."

"And I will help you do that," Leon promised. "But the truth is that you have an even greater mission ahead of you. A mission whose importance you can't even begin to comprehend."

"What do you mean?" Emily begged.

"Emily," Leon said softly, taking her hands, "you must understand that our success depends on your willingness to accept the task that has been given to you. The task that Silas was unable to complete. If we fail now, it will not only be your mother who will die, but every-one in the resistance will perish as well. Including us."

All this was overwhelming. "But…why me?" Emily asked.

"Because it's in your blood, Emily," Leon explained simply.

"But my mom, and Grandpa Jimmy–they're descendants of Silas too. Why didn't they wear the stone?"

"Because Silas decided to leave them in the dark," Leon said, a note of disapproval entering his tone. "He kept them unaware of their destiny as heirs to the stone, and left them to lead what he thought was a normal life." Then his voice grew serious. "What he failed to realize is that by keeping them from their destiny, he has passed the burden down to you."

"How can you say he failed?" demanded Emily. "He only did what he thought was best for his family. Any good father would."

But Leon didn't back down. "Even with your mother's life on the line, and the lives of yourself and your brother threatened, you would say he didn't fail?" His voice was heavy. "Had he done the right thing, he could have spared you from this burden."

"Or my mom, or her father, could have died trying," Emily argued. "Not everyone wants to be a hero."

"But they should," Leon replied.

"Now look here, Mister Redbeard," interrupted Miskit. "I know you're some kind of strong, brave warrior–maybe destined for fame and fortune–but Silas left no mention of you. He did, however, leave me to look after Emily and her family. So if you'll kindly show us the way up that mountain, we can be on our way."

"Fine," Leon replied, clenching his fists. "If that's all you care about, then follow me."

"See?" Miskit said to Emily. "You just have to ask nicely."

Silently, Miskit and Emily followed their fox guide deeper into the forest. He led them along the path through the trees, their gnarled limbs seemingly trying to reach out and grab them. They passed a small pond fed by a stream where a swarm of insects swirled over the still water, their wings a kaleidoscope of flashing colors as they buzzed through shafts of light. High up in the canopy branches, birds could be calling to each other; some cried or honked, while others bleated or squawked. A few even seemed to shriek and scream. One was so shrill that Emily and Leon had to cover their ears, though Miskit was unaffected. After walking continuously for the better part of an hour, they came to a stop before an enormous cocoon.

"What is that?" asked Miskit.

"The entrance to the only known passage up the mountain," Leon replied.

"I figured that much," the pink rabbit said, "but what's blocking it?"

"Twenty tons of explosives," the bounty hunter explained. "When it was put here, I have no clue. But I would venture a guess that if anyone where to ignite it, the explosion would destroy both the entrance and the intruders. It's meant as a safeguard to keep people away from this place."

"So how do we get past it?"

"The Stonekeeper must move it." He looked back at Emily. "Now do you see why you're not ready?" he asked. "If you fail to control your powers here, you will destroy the entrance and kill us all…before the journey's even begun."

"And just how would you know?" Miskit asked skeptically. "You're not a Stonekeeper."

"You're right, I'm not. But I've seen other Stonekeepers destroy themselves because they couldn't control the power they possessed."

"And you can show me how to control these powers?" asked Emily.

"I can help," Leon answered. "But only if you willingly commit to fulfilling your role as a Stonekeeper. You must believe that you're here by choice, not circumstance."

"But how?" demanded Emily. "How can I believe that I'm here by choice when I know it's not true?"

Leon's answer was simple and firm. "Then you must make it true," he told her. "Take control of your life, and the stone will follow." He bent down and picked up something that looked like a huge almond. "We'll start small." Setting it on a rock, he instructed, "Pick up the seed using your powers. Without burning it."

Emily did as she was told. She willed the stone to power up, and she could feel the buzz of energy as it charged. She focused on the seed. Seconds later, the air lit up with reddish-pink light as the energy instantly traversed the distance between her and the seed. Electricity crackled through the narrow channel as the energy surrounded the seed. Emily focused on lifting the seed, which she managed easily enough. But then the power began to turn the seed black, and seconds later, it dropped to the ground, black and charred.

Leon picked up another one. "Again," he commanded. Emily tried again, with the same result. "Again."

"I can't do it, Leon," Emily complained, frustrated.

"Yes you can," Leon told her confidently. "Try again." Setting the third seed on the stone, he added, "But this time, use your staff."

Emily seemed skeptical. "How will that help?"

"Infuse it with the stone's power," he told her. "It will help to focus the energy."

"But I'll burn it, like the seeds."

Then Miskit remembered something. "But Emily," she interjected, "you've done it before. When we were running from the elves back in the city, you lifted both of us without so much as a singe. Remember?"

Leon looked at the pink rabbit, surprised and strangely enough, impressed. "You see?" he said with a smile. "You already know how to do this."

Emily was unconvinced. "But with Miskit, it's different," she said.

"How so?"

"I don't know. It's just different."

"But how is it different?" Leon pressed. "Why do you think it's different?"

"Because!" Instantly, Emily realized she was getting angry, and knew that the stone would feed off her emotion. So she forced herself to calm down. "Because I don't want to hurt her, I want to protect her. She may not be a living being, per se, but she's no less important to me than Navin or my mom."

"Then think of the seed in the same fashion," Leon said. "Think of it as your only source of food. Now protect it."

"But it's no the same," Emily complained.

"It's exactly the same." Emily was confused. "The seed may not appear to be alive, but it is. Inside it in the future generation of one of these trees. Without it, this forest wouldn't exist." Emily didn't answer, but still looked confused. "You'll soon learn that everything has a life force," Leon explained patiently, drawing his sword. "Some are easy to detect." Quick as a flash, he brought the blade down on the seed, slicing it in two. Inside were several pairs of glowing eyes, and then insects buzzed out into the air. "But to find others, you have to look beneath the surface. Listen for your staff's life force, and focus your energy on it."

Now Emily was totally lost. "But this staff isn't alive," she pointed out.

"Yes it is," the fox replied.

But Emily was adamant. "No, it's not, Leon! It never was. When the tree it came from died, so did the wood." Leon opened his mouth to argue, but she stopped him. "This staff is not alive, Leon. There is no life force to focus on."

Leon didn't like being told what was or wasn't possible, but he was forced to admit that Emily was right. The staff wasn't alive. It never had been and it never would be. There was nothing to focus on. "You're right, Emily," he said with a sigh. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be pushing you so hard when the means to accomplish what you need to accomplish aren't available." He thought for a moment, then said, "But perhaps we can try another way."

"What did you have in mind?"

"The staff helps you along, right?" Emily nodded. "And it makes walking easier, correct?" Another nod. "Then since it's dead, there is no life force to focus on. So focus on the staff itself."

"How is that going to help?"

"Think of it as a third leg," Leon said. "A leg that you can't survive without. You have to protect it."

Emily thought about this for a moment, then tried his suggestion. Willing the stone to charge up, she focused on the physical staff. Within seconds, the energy surrounded and encased the staff in a protective shell.

Leon smiled. "Excellent," he said. "Now pick up the seed. Except it does have a life force. Focus on protecting it, like the staff."

Emily did. She focused on lifting the seed, but with the intention of protecting it. The energy flowed through the staff and flashed toward the seed, instantly enveloping it. And the seed became airborne. One inch. Six inches. A foot. Higher and higher it went, completely encased in the energy.

"Well done," Leon said. Emily stopped the flow of energy, and the seed dropped into his hand. "Not even warm. Excellent work, Emily. Now let's try something a little bigger." He ran over to a piece of a trunk that had come from a large tree. "Now, I want you to—"

"Welcome back, young master," said the spirit inside the stone, drowning out Leon's voice. "I was beginning to think you were upset with me."

I was, Emily replied, her mind strained from trying to listen to both Leon's voice and the spirit's. I've had some time to cool down since then.

"But one's quest for power is too important, right?" Emily could sense the spirit shifting its focus to Leon. "I like the fox man. He has a desire to fight."

But not like you have, Emily pointed out. You just want to fight for the sake of violence.

"Oh, young Stonekeeper, your words wound me," the spirit replied in dramatic theater fashion. "I don't wish to fight just because I can, I wish to fight because you wish to fight."

Then you obviously don't know me very well, Emily replied.

"On the contrary," the spirit answered. "I know everything there is to know about you. It's the fox who doesn't know you very well."

Give him a break, Emily said. We only met this morning. Of course he doesn't know me very well.

"Then let's show him what a powerful ally he has." With that, the spirit channeled the stone's energy, enveloped the section of tree and began to lift it. With Leon still on top. The fox lost his balance and fell off, hitting the ground with a resounding oof.

"Emily, stop!" cried Miskit.

But the spirit drowned out her voice as well. The world around Emily seemed to be nonexistent as the stone's power rushed through her mind. "Feel that power, young master," the spirit said as the log lifted higher and higher. "With it, we can accomplish anything." Then it suddenly let go of the log, and Leon had to leap out of the way to keep from getting crushed. Turning toward the cocoon of explosives, the spirit again channeled the energy, surrounded it, and pulled it from the entrance, letting it fall to the ground with an earthshaking crash.

"Emily?" Miskit asked, worried. "Are you okay?"

"You don't need them, master," the spirit said. "We can do this on our own. They'll only slow us down and make us weaker." Wind rushed through the now open entrance, and Emily looked into it. "Leave them behind. This road belongs to us."

No, Emily told it. We travel together, or not at all.

"But master–"

We're a team, she went on. And we're friends. I'm not going to leave them behind. I need them.

"Listen to yourself."

I am. And now I'm telling you to leave me in peace.

The spirit relented. "As you wish." Then it retreated back into the stone.

"Are you all right?" Miskit asked Leon, suddenly concerned for his safety.

"I'm fine," he told her. "It takes more than a fall and nearly being crushed by a log to kill me."

"Leon…" He looked at her. She was standing with her back to him, in the middle of the rushing wind. "Something's happening to me."

"You're getting stronger," he replied. "And so is the stone."

"Good," Emily said. "That will make it easier to control this."

"Just be careful, Emily," he cautioned her. "It works both ways. The stone's power is the reflection of its keeper's strength. As you grow stronger, the stone does as well, and it will become harder to control."

"What if I lose control?" Emily asked. "What then?"

"We would be in a whole heap of trouble," Leon answered. "But that won't happen."

"How do you know that? What make you so sure?"

"Because I believe that the gadoba trees were right about you."

"The gadoba trees? You can speak to them?"

"Of course. And I imagine they look forward to speaking with you as well." He walked into the large entrance. "No come on. We can't afford to wait here any longer."

Together, they walked into the long tunnel that would lead them to the pathway up the mountain.

Back in the city, the house was still docked at pier ten and under armed guard by the elves. So far, their attempt to cut off the Navin and Emily from their home seemed to be working. All day, there had been no sign of heads or heels of either. As far as the elves knew, the house was as good as theirs. But the security would not last.

Further down the docks, Navin and the curse victim who had been turned into an octopus crouched inside a large wastebin filled with fish. Though the bin's contents had been inside for almost three days and beginning to spoil, the smell emitted from the load didn't phase Navin nor his companion.

"There's less protection that I thought there would be," Navin remarked.

The octopus—whose name Navin had learned was Turin—observed the scene. "There are only a few guards," he added. "It's now or never."

Balan stood behind the bin, disguised as a member of the city's garbage collection service. "Okay, guys," he said. "Here we go." And he began to push the wastebin toward the house. Ever since they'd left the safety of the Resistance's underground headquarters, Balan had been forming a script for himself that would have gotten rounds of applause at a theater.

One of the guards patrolling the entrance to the house saw him coming, and stopped him. "Where are you going?" he demanded. "This dock is off limits."

"I was told by the commander to empty the garbage before presenting the house to the king," Balan replied without so much as a catch. "If you want to handle it, be my guest!"

The guard was a bit put off by Balan's brazen attitude. "Open it up," he ordered.

"Are you sure you wanna do that?"

"Do as you're told, peasant!"

"You probably won't like what's in here."

"I said open it!"

Balan shrugged. "All right," he said casually. "Don't say I didn't warn you." Balan opened the flap on the front of the receptacle, and instantly the stench of rotting fish hit them both. Balan was unaffected. But the elf's reaction to the smell was one of utter disgust. "Oh, that's right," Balan said, as if remembering something. "Elves can't stand fish can they? The last pickup was the marina. Sorry." To maintain the disguise, he added insolently, "I guess that's why we get these jobs. Lucky us."

"Just go!" gasped the guard. "Do your job. Just get it away from me!"

So Balan did, and left guard behind him, hacking and coughing. He chuckled to himself. "Works like a charm every time." He wheel-ed the bin up to the house and pressed the hose against the waste disposal socket. Instantly, the suction ensured a secure fit. Lifting the flap, he peered inside and whispered, "Okay, boys, you're up."

Navin and Turin slopped through the fish carcasses to their end of the hose. Shining a flashlight inside, Turin said, "You first, sir."

So Navin went first. Partly because he was told to, and partly because he was the leader of the Resistance fighters. But that didn't necessarily make the trip any easier. The inside of the tube was caked with refuse—both organic and synthetic—from dozens of stops. And the smell was so assaultive that to almost made him retch. Fortunately, the distance wasn't far, and he soon opened the hatch to the garbage chute. He pulled himself out of the chute, then turned around and grabbed hold of his subordinate's arms. Or tentacles. Whatever they were. He didn't really care what they were, because he was having a hard time helping his soldier out of the chute. When he finally popped out, Navin was surprised that their presence hadn't attracted any attention. At least not yet. "We need to get to the attic," he said.

"Lead the way, sir," Turin answered.

Navin led the way deeper into the house. Turin was right behind him the whole way. They exited the maintenance bay, then climbed up a ladder and entered the main room, in the middle of which was a tree whose branches were covered with some kind of glowing orbs about the size of oranges. From there, the raced up a spiral staircase on the far side of the room. After several minutes, they reached the top, both of them winded. Looking through a door, Navin saw his robot friends. "There they are," he announced.

"Do you have the key?" wheezed Turin.

Navin dug into his pocket and produced a rectangular device, then went over to the primary control panel. "Morrie said that all I have to do is plug this into the main terminal. I just have to find it." He looked back at his mechanical companions. "Don't worry," he said softly. "I'll get you guys out of this mess." Just then, he heard the distinctive shink of a weapon being drawn, and looked behind him to see an elf wind up for a swing. Navin skipped backward and felt the rush of air as the sharp tips of the elf's gloves missed his face by inches.

"Intruder," the elf hissed, and made to take another swipe at the boy. But he'd barely gone forward a single step when several things entangled him, trapping both his arms and covering his mouth.

"I've got him under control, sir," Turin said. "Do it!"

Navin took the key and slipped it into the first plug he saw. It was a very lucky guess, because the robots reactivated. Navin looked at his mechanical friends. "Welcome back, Cogsley," he said.

"Thanks, chief," the robot replied. "We'd have been factory-fresh if you hadn't shown up."

"Ain't that the truth," Navin agreed. "Now let's get out of here." Before they ran up to the cockpit, Navin said to Turin, "Take him to the garbage chute. Let him have some fun with those who were kind enough to give us a ride."

The smirk on Turin's face was one of utter delight. "With pleasure, sir!" And he led the struggling elf away.

Once in the cockpit, Navin and Cogsley fired of the house. "Startup sequence initiated," the robot reported. "We should be good to go in thirty minutes."

"Cogsley," Navin asked, "do you believe in premonitions?"

Cogsley was surprised by this inquiry. "That's a strange question to ask a robot," he answered. "Honestly, no. I don't. But I do believe in predictions based on sound mathematical equations. If the 'premonitions' were based on such math, then yes, I would believe them."

"Then let's hope that trees are bad at math," Navin said.

Like two eyes, the massive floodlights above the cockpit flickered to life.

Meanwhile, Emily was following Leon up the mountain. Specifically, up a sheer cliff face. Leon was quick and nimble, whereas Emily had to pull the weight of both herself and Miskit from one ledge to the next. It was grueling work. She was breathing hard and her arms were getting tired. But still she pressed on. Slowly, but not unmoving.

But Leon was beginning to lose patience. "Why aren't you using the stone?" he called down to her.

"I can do this without it," she hollered back.

"Not nearly as fast," Leon pointed out. "And it is your mother's life we're trying to save, right?"

"What if I lose control and the stone takes me over?" Emily demanded. "I wouldn't be much help to any of us then, would I?"

This stopped Leon's impatient complaints cold. He knew she was right. Again. Using the stone too much would leave the user more susceptible to its tempting power. It was a double-bladed sword. By not using the stone, she was sparing herself the temptation to let its power suffuse through her being, while at the same time building up her own endurance. But it didn't stop him from being concerned. "You're going to kill yourself with that attitude you know," he remarked.

"Maybe so," she replied tersely. "But it's a lot better than losing control and mindlessly killing a bunch of other people."

Again, she was right. She seemed to be making a lot of deep, truthful points lately. And Leon, having never liked to be proven wrong, was starting to bet annoyed. "That's really starting to get on my nerves," he muttered.

"What is?" asked Emily as she pulled herself onto the ledge he was on.

"Nothing," he replied quickly as Emily grunted and swung herself onto the ledge. "We'll stop here for now," he announced. "We should rest before we continue."

"And you're not even tired," Emily remarked dryly. "How ironic." Miskit got off her shoulders and Emily rolled onto her back, her chest heaving like a bellows. While she got her wind back, Leon dug into his pack and retrieved a bundle of twigs he'd scavenged from the forest below. Laying it in a rough pile, he struck flint to the wood and started a fire. It was small, but more than sufficient to keep them warm in the lofty mountain air. Also, the fact that the cliff was facing away from the wind helped as well.

After warming up her numb hands and regaining her breath, Emily looked at her guide. "Leon," she said, "you never answered my question earlier: What happens to Stonekeepers when they lose control of their stones?"

Leon was quiet for a moment as he considered how to answer, then finally replied, "They…change."

When he didn't say anything more, Emily pressed, "How, Leon? How do they change?"

The fox sighed and leaned forward, staring into the fire. "Thirty years ago," he began, "four young Stonekeepers lost control of their powers. The stones took control of their minds and bodies, and with the power surging through them, transformed them into colossal beasts. When the transformations were complete, they became determined to destroy everything in their path. Even those who had been hesitant to so much as speak harsh words to another were now consumed with the desire for power. And in their mindless quest, they set the surface of Alledia ablaze.

"If not for the efforts of the Stonekeepers who fought against these monsters, your great-grandfather among them, none of us would be here today. The resistance was able to capture and destroy the rogue Stonekeepers. All except one. He used to be a quiet and peaceful boy from a small elf village, but after his transformation, he was never the same. The elders were able to separate him from his stone. Some small piece of him knew that he posed an enormous threat to his home and everything he loved. So he made a selfless request to be executed. But the elders denied his request, convinced they could cure him of the curse. They failed to realize that once someone gets a taste of absolute, boundless power, nothing will stop them from attaining it. And when he talked, which was seldom, he spoke only of his desire for that power, and warned of dark times ahead. He told them that they would regret having kept him alive, and that he would show them why.

"My father was one of the prison guards assigned to watch over the elf. He was there the night when the stone returned to help the boy escape. It was the last time I saw him alive…and when the elf king was born."

"So that boy was the elf king," Emily realized.

"Yes."

"Is that why you're doing this?" she asked. "Because he killed your father?"

"No," Leon answered. "At least not entirely. Some part of me does desire retribution, but it's not what motivates me. I took up bounty hunting partly to support myself, and also as a way of honoring my father by helping to rid the land of those who would inflict harm to others who are innocent."

Emily took her stone in her hand and looked at it. She was silent for a long minute as she studied it. "These things killed your father," she mused. "So how do you know that you can trust me?"

Leon's green eyes sparkled with determination behind the reflection of the firelight. "My mission has always been to destroy the elf king," he said. "And since all the others have been tempted or forced into serving the elf king, you're the last, best hope I have for seeing that happen."

Far below, the elves of the force sent by the elf king to eradicate Emily walked through the forest. There were eight in all. Six of them were regular soldiers; four had been selected from the Kanalis city guard, and the other two were the only ones who had escaped uninjured from the encounter with Emily. Luger and Trellis rode upon the backs of crawler hounds.

Crawler hounds were enormous beasts that resembled wolves. But they were about a dozen times larger and had six legs. They relied mainly on their sense of smell, so their ears were small and their noses were huge. Their mouths were gigantic clamps filled with sharp, rip-ping teeth and dripped saliva. Their bodies stood eight tall at the arch of their backs. Their tails were long and bushy, and their toes ended in fearsome claws that could easily slice through flesh.

Trellis was behind Luger on his own hound. He looked about nervously at the trees in both anticipation and reluctance. As much as he wanted to prove himself to his father, he also knew that his father would never be satisfied with anything he did. His father's obsession with killing the young Stonekeeper had become his only goal in life, though he hadn't the courage to undertake the task himself. Also, his fear of the Stonekeeper had made him paranoid, and he burst out with rage whenever someone he'd sent to wipe her out had failed. His father would never accept him, no matter how hard he tried. It was a futile endeavor thrust upon his by a paranoid man.

Something about his mood must have alerted his companions, because Luger asked, "What are you hiding, Trellis?"

The elf prince was confused. "What are you talking about?"

"I can sense you hesitation," Luger stated bluntly. "The air around you is as thick as blood."

"I don't know what you're getting at, Luger."

"Stop the convoy." Everyone stopped, including the crawler hounds. Luger turned around and glared at Trellis. "You know exactly what I'm getting at," he hissed.

Trellis was suddenly grabbed by two of the guards. "What are you doing?" he demanded. "Get your hands off me!" He struggled to free himself, but they easily overpowered him and yanked him from the saddle.

Luger slid off his steed's back, his feet squelching in the ankle-deep mud. Spying a stout branch nearby, he went over and picked it up, tapping it in one hand like a law enforcement officer. "It's time to end this," he growled.

"What? You haven't even given me a chance to prove myself!"

Energy from Luger's stone surrounded the branch. "You've had plenty of chances already. And in every instance, you have failed. So I'm going to help you this time. And the only way I can ensure your success…is by taking you out of the equation."

"What? No!"

"After the wounds have healed, you'll thank me for this."

"You don't want to do this, Luger!"

"You're right. But it's the only option I have left." And he leapt into the air, holding the branch above his head like a sword.

Something bordering on panic flooded through Trellis as he helplessly watched the wood rush toward his face. "No!" But Luger ignored his cries, and brought the stick down on Trellis' head, and the elf prince's cry of agony echoed through the trees. When the horrible sound faded, Trellis lay face-down on the ground, convulsing and shaking.

Luger stood over him, his face a show of cruel indifference, but his eyes held a trace of remorse. "Someday," he said, "you might also learn to do what is right, even if it hurts. I'm sorry, my prince." He turned around and walked back toward his steed. "But I cannot and will not let you ruin my opportunity." Then to his mean he ordered, "Move out." And they moved off, leaving Trellis to fend for himself.

The three travelers continued on. The ground had leveled out, and they were now so high up that the cold mist had enveloped them and obscured everything outside of a ten-foot radius. More than once they had tripped on a protruding rock or almost broken an ankle in a hole. But despite the dangers, they went on, undiscouraged.

As they neared the summit, Leon said, "The gadoba forest should be right around here somewhere."

Miskit looked around, but saw only milky white mist. "I don't see anything."

"It's the fog," Emily observed. "It's too thick." She climbed on top of a small ridge and flushed power to her staff.

"That's just great," Miskit complained, turning on their guide. "You said those trees were right…" The fog cleared. "In front of us."

Before them, dozens of gadoba trees stood. Around their roots were hundreds of skeletons. Most of them had tattered clothes, and some wore suits of armor. Thousands of empty sockets stared back at them, their mouths still open in their last scream of agony. "So many," Emily thought aloud. "I wonder who they were."

"Travelers," replied a voice. Startled, Emily raised her staff and held it like a baseball bat, ready to whack to the first person she saw that was not of their party. "Travelers just like you," the voice went on. "They all came here looking for the same thing."

Emily turned and nearly jumped out of her skin at what she saw. Two glowing slits had appeared in one of the trees, above a nose and a mouth. She realized that what Leon had said earlier in their journey about being able to talk to gadoba trees was true. And this one was talking to her!

"The fruit that can cure any disease and nullify any poison. The elixir for all ailments. Imagine the power it would bring to those who controlled it. Many have killed their companions and even their closest friends and relatives to have it for themselves. Entire families have met their end here. Undoubtedly, this is what you seek as well…"

"I—"

"Brother Malken!" called another voice, interrupting them both. "I do not believe she has come here seeking power or the benefits thereof. I sense something different about this one. Don't you?"

"Yes, yes," Brother Malken muttered. "Different indeed."

Emily indicated the skeletons with a wave of her arms. "Why did all these people die?"

"Because they picked the wrong fruit, of course," Brother Malken replied, as though it were the most trivial thing in the world. Emily looked up at the crop of fruit hanging from the tree's branches. "For every fruit that gives life, there are a hundred that take it away." She looked at one of the skeletons at her feet, its empty sockets staring back at her. "Very few succeed in reaping the rewards of their journey."

Another tree spoke, addressing Emily's friend and guide. "Leon Redbeard. It has been a long time, my friend."

"It has, Brother Krell," the fox replied. "Too long. But even time cannot keep me from fulfilling my promise."

"Thank the spirits for that, Leon," Brother Krell said. "There are too few with a heart like yours in the world today. Fear and selfishness permeates the very thread of society."

"Such truth is difficult to live with," Leon answered sadly. "Life under the elves' rule has become bitter and hard. More and more people are forced to live in squalor. Or on the run, like myself."

"So unfortunate," Brother Krell mused, then turned to Emily. "So, you now believe that this girl is the one we've been waiting for?"

Leon set his face, and in sure voice, he replied, "What I sense about her is far beyond belief, Brother Krell."

"Very well," Krell said. "Show us."

There was a brief silence, broken only when Emily remarked quietly to Leon, "Not very trusting are they?"

"It's only natural that you think us suspicious," Malken said. "And for that, I apologize. But after the scores of travelers that have come here saying one thing and then doing another, we can no longer trust anyone's word. We fully intend to give you what you seek, if you prove your sincerity."

Leon looked at Emily. "That's their condition, Emily," he said. "If you really are that determined to save your mother, then you must prove that you mean what you say. You must choose a fruit and eat it."

Emily looked at him, then at the fruit above, and back again. "But how do I know which one to pick?"

Leon put a hand on her shoulder. "Just remember what I taught you," he answered. "Everything living has a life force."

The grove became deathly silent as Emily considered how best to take on the challenge before her. She looked at the situation from every possible angle. There were only two possible outcomes, and only one way to find out which one she would end up with. Finally, she willed the stone around her neck to activate. Then, suffusing her staff with its power, she told it to do what she wanted. A white lance of magic snaked upward and zipped from one fruit to the next. But none of them returned a positive signal.

"Those don't feel right." She continued to search until she found one. With a quick jerk, the selected fruit broke free from the branch and fell to the ground with a fleshy splat. Picking it up, she said, "This is the one."

But Miskit wasn't so sure about it, and shouted, "Emily, wait!"

Too late. Emily took a bite, made a face, swallowed and shuddered. As soon as the bite left her mouth, she let out a disgusted, "UGH!"

"Emily!"

"Keep your head on, Miskit," she replied. "I'm fine, it just tastes terrible."

Brother Malken said, "Leon is right. You have the gift. There is more where that came from. Please feel free to harvest them."

Emily was about to do so, when a thought struck her. "Leon," she asked, "will this be enough to cure my mother?"

"Absolutely," the fox replied. "More than enough. Just one fruit is enough to cure any ailment a dozen times."

Emily considered this information, then decided. "I want to take a few more. Call me selfish, but I want to be prepared for the next time something like this happens."

Brother Malken shed six more of the life-giving fruits. "This should be plenty for your reasons," he said. "Take them to use as you see fit."

The trio collected the fallen fruit. "Will they ever spoil?" Emily asked.

"No," Brother Krell answered simply.

"Then we'll take what you've given us. Thank you for your help."

"Although we accept your thanks," said Brother Malken, "it is us who should be thanking you, young Stonekeeper. We wish you the best of luck."

"What?" Miskit exclaimed. "Only seven? We should take as many as we can carry!"

"You heard them," Emily answered, indicating the trees. "These fruits can heal anything. I'll admit, the power that would come from their possession is tempting, but I'll only take as many as we need. No more."

"But…but…"

"If we take more than that, we'll only cause more trouble. For more than ourselves."

"Quiet!" Leon hissed. Emily and Miskit fell silent. The fox stood looking out into the mist-filled forest, his eyes focused and his ears erect. A faint shape flitted between two trees, then disappeared. Leon squinted, peering closer at the spot. Another shape flashed.

"What is it?" asked Miskit.

"I saw something move between the trees. We have to leave. Now." He turned to the elder gadoba tree. "I'm sorry, Father Malken. It's likely that the elves have picked up our trail. We were careless."

"Your apologies are wasted on circumstances outside your control, Leon," Malken replied. "The elves would have found it sooner or later. Don't worry about us. Leave quickly, and keep the Stonekeeper safe. And be careful; your journey back down the mountain will be far more perilous than your journey here."

"Also," added Brother Krell, "we you rejoin the Resistance, please give Brother Alder our best wishes."

"You have my word," Leon promised. Then he turned to the others. "Let's go. We'll be harder to track in the dark."

As they left, Krell asked Malken, "Why did you not tell him what lies ahead?"

"He already knows," was Malken's simple answer.

Emily, Leon and Miskit took the same path down the mountain that they had taken going up: A narrow ledge protruding from the cliff face just wide enough to walk on. A ball of energy around the top of Emily's staff provided illumination and cleared their path of the blinding fog. Emily's attention was suddenly drawn to something farther down the cliff, and she stopped to see what it was. It was a solitary tree—or what looked like on—clinging to the edge of the cliff face.

Leon noticed. "What is it?" he asked. "Did you see something?"

Emily shook her head. "No, it's nothing important. Just a dead tree." And she took another step.

Just as her foot landed on the rock, a piece of the ledge cracked and gave way under her weight. Emily knew she would have to act quickly to save herself, and threw her hand up, latching onto the edge of the narrow walkway. "Emily!" Leon cried, reaching down to help her. But with one hand clutching her staff, and the other keeping her from falling to a horrible death, she had nothing to grab with. Instead, she will the power of the stone to surround her and lift her up.

"Well, look at that!" exclaimed Miskit.

With a trace of annoyance, Emily said, "You worry about me too much."

Leon huffed. "It's good that your confidence is strong, but you really need to be more careful." He turned and started walking again. "We still have a long way to go."

Back at the grove, a shadowy figure stepped out of the mist. It was an elf–tall, dashing, and a look of mock friendliness on his face. He looked at the gadoba trees in front of him and said, "Good afternoon, you worthless stumps." The trees didn't answer, instead just staring back at him. "You don't seem too pleased to see me."

Brother Malken replied, "It has been a long time since your people were welcome here, Luger."

Luger gave a twisted little smile. "Oh yes, one could hardly notice," he said sarcastically. "Most of the skeletons here are the remains of elves, are they not?" His smirk disappeared and was replaced by a hateful scowl. "Your kind has killed more elves than the plague!"

"Do not go casting blame when you do not know where it rightly belongs," answered Brother Krell.

Luger growled at him. "Don't talk back to me, you ancient wood heaps!"

But the trees were not intimidated. "You would do well to listen to Brother Krell, Luger," Malken advised.

"The one who blindly casts blame and calls another a fool is naught but a fool himself," Krell said wisely.

Luger's patience was wearing thin. "Where are the girl and her company?"

"We know only that they left us a short while ago," Malken answered.

"Going which way?"

"Even we cannot see through the mists."

"Which way?"

"We do not know," said Krell.

"Tell me!"

"We have told you all we can."

Luger's temper snapped, and he snatched a torch away from the soldier next to him. "Tell me or I'll burn down all of you!"

"Whether you leave us be or burn us down, you will get no more than we have to offer."

Furious, Luger threw the torch into the trees' midst and ordered, "Let's go."

The flame quickly spread to encompass the trees. "Brother Malken," asked one of the trees, "is this the end?"

"We are not the last of the gadoba trees, Brother Henn," Malken answered. "Let's just hope that this is a new beginning."

So all the trees closed their eyes and waited for the end, accepting their fate.

The air around the three travelers began to clear. But it was just the layer near the ground that was clear. Though it was unnatural due to how high up they still were, none of them really seemed to notice the change. Until Emily came out of her thoughts and took in their surroundings. At first, it seemed to be one of the many mysteries of nature. But as she continued to look about, she began to notice that something was clearly not normal. "Why is the air seeming to clear?" she wondered aloud.

"Because we're getting closer to sea level," Leon answered.

"Already?" asked Miskit. "We've only just started back down."

This observation made Leon realize how absurd his reply had been. Miskit was right, they had only just started their descent a few hours ago; there was no way they could be that close to sea level yet. He looked around, and noticed that the layer of air near the ground was indeed clear. The air above that was still thick with fog. He stopped. "How strange."

Then Miskit glanced back. "Hey, look," she called. The other two turned around. "The forest is burning."

"The elves are close," Leon muttered. "Very close. Less than half a day behind us. We can't stay here. Keep moving."

Emily's eyes widened in disbelief. "What!" she exclaimed. "We have to go back!"

"No," the fox answered. "It's in the wrong direction, and we can't afford to lose time."

"But what about Malken, and Krell, and Henn, and the others?"

"Even if we could, they'd be charred trunks by the time we got there."

"So you're just going to leave them?"

Leon looked at her with determined resolution. "My job is to protect you, not them. They knew that they would one day pass on. I don't like to leave them to their fate any more than you do, Emily, but the facts of life are cruel and harsh. There is nothing we can do for them now. Except honor their gift to us." He started walked again. "Now come. The elves are close, and we must hurry."

Emily turned back toward the glow, and Miskit tugged on her arm. "Let's go," the pink rabbit said. "We can't afford to linger."

With one last look at the light reflecting off the clouds, Emily reluctantly turned and followed her two companions. She didn't want to leave the gadoba trees to their fate. What if she needed their life-saving fruit in the future, for some purpose greater than the life of one person? Now that she had proven that her intentions were not for her own gain, the trees would willingly give her their fruit to help cure any and all illnesses that struck indiscriminately at the people of Alledia, killing and forever mutilating many of them.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the stone-spirit touched her mind. "Emily."

Emily frowned and lashed back irately, The one thing I don't need right now is you.

"Your words wound me, young master," the spirit replied. "Why are you so upset with me?"

Emily scoffed. As if you wouldn't know.

"You're right. Of course I know. I know all that goes on in your mind."

How very comforting, said the girl, her voice gushing sarcasm.

"That's why I'm here, but it's not why I've contacted you. Look at them. Don't you see the trouble you're causing for others? We can end their suffering right now and be done with them." Emily looked at the two in front of her. "You can't rely on them, for their sakes."

Emily's voice was rife with resentment as she replied, If you've got a piece of helpful advice, I'm all ears. If not, then leave.

"You must take matters into your own hands! Together, you and I can destroy the elf king. Just let the stone take control."

The spirit's voice was layered so thickly with charm that her resolve to resist the stone's tempting power faltered fractionally. Then she regained control of herself. No, she answered decisively. I must believe in my friends and family. I have to believe in them. I need to.

"Why? Because you see that they're important in your quest for power?"

Emily jaw tightened. You know as well as I do that power is not my motivation.

"And how will you feel when they all die for you?"

For an instant, Emily's fear of losing everything she held dear clutched her heart. Where would she be without them? How would she continue the battle to help gain Alledia's freedom from the iron grip of the elf king? Most important, who would she turn to for support? The stone, of course! She would be most vulnerable in her grief, when her resolve and determination to do the right thing would be at their weakest point. She reasserted her will, and answered, That won't happen.

"How can you be so sure?"

Because I won't let it happen. With that, she severed the connection with the stone.