Chapter 54 You Can't Keep a Bad Man Down,

or A Bad Man is a Pain to Find

Usual disclaimers: None of the characters in this chapter are owned by me, but rather by a whole lot of other corporate people.

Note: I nearly changed Elanee's deity in this chapter because it's always bugged me that an Elven druid would worship a human god rather than an Elven god like Rillifane Rallathil, especially considering she was raised by Elven druids. But in the end I went with NWN2 canon.

Warning: This chapter contains harsh and "M" rated language. But what else would you expect from Bishop, especially when he's been rudely awakened?

Sand and Elanee exchanged looks, hers worried, his puzzled. Sand leaned close to her and whispered in Elven, "Oh my...That wasn't supposed to happen, was it?"

"No, not at all!" Elanee shook her head as she whispered back, though she understood that it was a rhetorical question. "I'll try to find out what happened." She drew back and began a prayer to commune with her god for guidance, though she suspected she knew the reason the spell had gone wrong.

"How...Fuck!...What the hells happened?" Bishop coughed dryly as he tried to remember how he got here. "Last thing I remember was the fireball." He spit out something into his hand and peered at it in the faint light coming from the mage's glowing circlet and gagged as he saw that it was dead worms. He threw them on the ground in disgust. "Is that a fucking joke?" He studied his surroundings. He was sitting up in a cave where it looked like someone had partially removed a rock wall built to seal up the end—his end. His pack and his bow were lying beside him, he was wrapped in his cloak, and everything he wore was scorched.

Karnwyr had jumped the wall and was at his side, licking his face again. He hugged the wolf to him, burying his face in his fur and inhaling his comforting, musky scent deeply, then looked around again trying to make sense of this. The druid was kneeling muttering a prayer, and the pansy mage was right beside her but watching him. He could make out a large shape behind them both that could only be the paladin, and he could hear others behind him. He ran his hands through his hair and recoiled in horror at the large bald patches of scar tissue covering his head. At that moment he also realized that he could only see well through one eye.

Sand muttered, "I really don't need to cast the Polymorph spell. I hardly recognize him."

" Poly-morph?" Bishop parroted him dumbly trying to make sense of the word. "Why? What the hells did you do to me?" But as he took in his scorched leathers and cloak again, it came to him. This was his grave. They must have buried him here after that Luskan bitch had finished him off with her fireball. Not a bad job of it either; not a shallow grave and a quick scattering of dirt and leaves, but a real tomb to keep the scavengers out so his carcass could rot in peace. Even he had to appreciate their taking the time to build it and taking care to leave his things beside him. Wasn't anything he would have done for any of them, but he appreciated the effort. Almost.

Casavir spoke up. "Yes, Bishop. A Polymorph spell, so you're not recognized. You're a wanted man in Neverwinter's territory, and Luskan's too I imagine." He handed Bishop a water skin. "Drink this slowly. You should be fully restored but..."

Bishop sneered at him after he took a drink, rinsed his mouth, and spit out a few more worms, and then blew a few more out of his nostrils. "Figures you wouldn't have anything stronger." He took another deep drink. The water was lukewarm, but it still tasted like the most delicious water he had ever drunk, not that he would let his holiness know that. Karnwyr took his arm in his mouth and tugged, trying to get him to move. "I'm comin', mutt. Give me a minute."

He grabbed his pack and his Duskwood bow, cursing as he took stock of the ruined string. But the bow itself still seemed sturdy enough. The thing about long bows is they were nearly ruined in the process of making them, tillering the wood to form an even arch when drawn, so it was just a matter of time until they shattered when drawn back. But Duskwood was known for being not only being stronger, but more pliable. He still had arrows in his quiver too, and even some of the enchanted ones. He wouldn't have left them behind with a corpse, but then he wasn't a sentimental fool. He scowled at the implication that they had honored him by taking such pains, despite everything he had done.

Sand moved out of his way as he climbed over the rocks, but the druid appeared to be in a trance. Casavir also moved back to make room for him in the small cave. Bishop looked around again and made out the fiendling and the brat Wolf standing just outside, who he figured must be doing ranger duty for them these days with him gone. But what about her? Something the paladin had said when they were bound together in the Luskan's bag of holding nagged at his memory. "So what the fuck happened? I was dead, wasn't I?" Casavir nodded. "So what do you want? Must be something big to bring me back from..." His words trailed off as a deep shudder of revulsion at a barely perceptible memory nearly made him double over and collapse to his knees and vomit out the water he had just drunk.

Casavir replied tersely, "Indeed, you were dead. Bishop, you must listen, and you must help us. My wife's life depends upon it."

Bishop shoved his distress deep inside himself as he took another drink and wiped his mouth, and growled, "I don't have to do a damned thing for you, or for her." That's who was missing, besides the dwarf and the half-man. He remembered it now. She had been spirited away by monsters, that's what his holiness had told him when he was trying to get them untied. Bishop shuddered again, being positive he had just seen her. But the memory was fading,dissolving into vapors like a puddle of water on a hot day. He sneered again. "Figures you wouldn't bring me back out of the goodness of your heart."

Sand tossed his silky black hair and sneered back at him. "You really have no idea about the goodness of our hearts, ranger. Otherwise you would have been interred in the Tomb of the Betrayers where many feel you belong and not out here in this peaceful forest. I suggest you shut your mouth and listen to Casavir."

Bishop responded with a vile gesture, which he was annoyed to discover was difficult to make because of the scarred skin stiffening his fingers. He didn't even want to think of how that would affect his draw, and he scowled at Sand as if his predicament was his fault. "What the hells happened anyway? I thought I heard a resurrection spell brings the body back whole. What, you felt like torturing me once you raised me?"

"Oh, Bishop..." Elanee's eyes opened slowly, and everyone turned their attention to her. She replied with exasperation after taking a moment to recover, "Honestly. What has any of us ever done to make you think that? No, however, I've learned Silvanus allowed me to bring you back to life, but he didn't grant the full force of the spell because...he didn't feel you were worthy. I'm sorry, Bishop, but being faithless, he might have declined to grant me the power to bring you back at all."

Bishop relied bitterly, "Figures. That's why I never put stock in the gods like the rest of the sheep. All that mindless devotion, bowing and scraping, dirt-poor mothers giving what few coppers they managed to earn to the priests when they had hungry brats at home who had to do without, oh, but they had the blessing of whatever charlatan priest was passing through and a promise that things would be better in the next life..." His eye clouded painfully at the memory of him and his brothers chewing roots or whatever they could find or steal to stave off hunger, and his grandfather beating them for complaining and beating her for birthing them. That was part of what drove him out into the wild in the first place when he was young. Too young, but he survived. He cursed bitterly again as he felt a tear well up in his good eye. These fools wouldn't see him weak.

Elanee shook her head sadly as the ranger revealed far more than he intended. "But surely you know by now the gods exist, Bishop. It's not as if we expect you to worship Silvanus, Tyr or Illmater. Surely there must be one god whom you could respect, even if it's one of the dark gods—Shar, Malar, Talos..."

He glared daggers at her, but she held his gaze firmly. He finally looked down and changed the subject. "So where's the Captain?" As he spoke Wolf and Neeshka crawled into the cave to get out of a sudden downpour, as if it wasn't crowded enough already. There were so many of them trapped in this small space Bishop was finding it hard to breathe. His heart was pounding. Karnwyr whimpered and licked his hand.

"Allow me to explain." Casavir told him of her abduction and their fruitless search for the past two months, ending with his strange dream. "She was adamant that I had to have you resurrected immediately, no matter what the impediment. I have a feeling that it was because she needed you to help us find her, though another theory has occurred to some of us on the way here."

Neeshka spoke up from where she had squeezed in behind Casavir, looking over Casavir's shoulder to meet the ranger's eye. "Yeah, some of us I think there's nothing you can do to find her either. We think she found out you were in the Wall and wanted us to get you out, and nothing more. But we came anyway, for her, just in case."

Bishop swore again and wiped the sweat away from his face, which was pouring down his forehead despite the coolness in the cave. That did sound exactly like something she would do, cross time and space to send his holiness a message to rescue him. She was soft that way, unlike him. But he was canny enough to see that he could use this to his advantage and score a dig on the paladin too.

"Yeah, well you know what I think? You sound like you've been smoking black lotus. You should lay off the pipe, your holiness, before they lock you up in Ilmater's loony bin." He grinned seeing the angry scowl on the paladin's face, but as soon as the words left his mouth that strange feeling of stark terror returned, and he didn't like the dark place the thoughts of her were trying to take him. His head was spinning, and Karnwyr whined in alarm and licked his hand. He needed to get out of here. His hand slipped to the knife in his boot.

Casavir was pleading now. "I know it sounds mad, Bishop, but please, stay for her if she ever meant anything at all to you. She's the only one who never lost faith in you, not even after you betrayed her."

Bishop shoved past him roughly. It was all he could do not to draw his blade and gut the fool. "Get out of my way!"

There was fire in Elanee's eyes as she blocked his way, and her voice was firm as stone. "Bishop, you should know that Silvanus has granted me the power to resurrect you, not for your sake but for her sake. Dee is a faithful worshiper of his daughter, and I get the sense that even Meilikki cannot help Dee where she is. But I also sense he allowed it on the contingency that you are worthy of his attention, and my effort. The message I feel is that if you don't want his gift and won't help us, he will take it back."

The thought of going back there (though he wasn't clear where that was) triggered an involuntary shiver, though he told himself that oblivion wasn't so bad compared to being trapped with these bleating sheep. "So? Take it back then, or get out of my way." He didn't know how this worked for sure, but he thought she was bluffing and called her on it.

Karnwyr growled and gave him a nip on the arm that was reaching for the knife as if he could hear his thoughts. And for the first time, Bishop realized he really could hear real words, not just emotions, coming from the wolf, something that hadn't happened since the first day they found one another. It froze him in his tracks and made him rethink his course as he rubbed the bite. "Or tell me what I get out of it." He looked at Karnwyr again to be sure, but there was no mistaking the deep sense of loss the wolf was conveying to him at the thought of losing his bonded again. The wolf let him know he had mourned him, and Bishop felt a tugging at his own heart as he gave the wolf another hug."It's alright, mutt. I missed you too."

Sand patted Elanee's shoulder as she was near tears and took over the negotiations, replying smoothly, "What's in it for you, you ask? Why only a new face, a new name, a new beginning. Add to that enough coin that you could go anywhere you want. Isn't that incentive enough? Casavir and I had already agreed that if you had lived to stand trial, we would have felt compelled to join forces to defend you because we knew you were under the sway of Black Garius's geas. But neither of us has enough confidence in Neverwintan justice to think that we could save you from hanging even after proving your relative innocence, nor did we feel that your helping him try to escape the Luskans would have been taken into consideration. No, you were headed for the gallows, and still will be, if you're discovered. We had thought we would have to change your appearance to avoid that, and I am prepared to use my own magics to give you a form of your choosing. That is, if you cooperate."

He pulled a delicate glassteel mirror from his belt pouch and held it up. "Consider yourself, ranger. Not many women would want you as you are, even with an offer of a handful of gold." Sand studied the ranger's reaction and began formulating a plan of casting his own geas if need be, also being of a mind that what the paladin didn't know wouldn't hurt him if it was for the greater good.

Bishop stared at his reflection, half his scalp burned, and with scarring that covered the right side of his face. He blinked twice and suppressed a shudder of revulsion before steeling himself again and replying with a shrug, "It's not so bad."

He had almost convinced himself of that. Screw it. All he needed was the mutt and the wild anyway. But the idea of a clean slate began to sink in and appealed to him even more. Freedom! No more looking over his shoulder. As far as anyone but these people in this cave knew, he was dead, and he knew he could buy their silence if he played along. It wasn't lost on the ranger either that by helping him escape Neverwintan justice, they were implicating themselves in his crimes. So he decided he would go along, depending on what they needed of him, as long as he wasn't stepping into another snare. "What do you want from me? How do you expect me to find her when the best of Neverwinter hasn't been able to? I can't believe you're that impressed by my skills. Sounds like a fool's errand to me, but I'll hear you out."

Casavir looked visibly relieved. "I've been thinking about that on the way here. Perhaps if there was a way to help you remember what you talked of when you saw her, we could learn how to help her."

Bishop was skeptical again, and he didn't trust giving himself over to their power." And that means submitting to your spells? I don't like the idea of you messing around with my mind."

Elanee replied, "Yes. But Elder Naevan also taught me a technique that he learned from a shaman that I think...no, I know I could replicate. I would put you into a trance and explore your hidden mind. I would enter a trance as well and accompany you to the Astral Plane so I can guide you there and back. But Sand also has spells we could use if you're not willing."

Bishop frowned. "A trance? How?" He trusted her more than the mage.

Elanee tried to reassure him. "It's safe enough if you have a guide. I think what you really fear is going back to that dark place, but I shall be at your side, and our animal companions will be there as well to watch over our journey. They travel to the Astral Plane much easier than we do." Elanee reached out and touched his arm, and Karnwyr licked his face and told Bishop to trust her.

He ruffled the wolf's fur and received another fond lick, but he was still skeptical and looking for the loopholes in the agreement. "What if there isn't anything to remember? How do I know you won't go back on our agreement?"

Casavir answered immediately. "I swear by Tyr that I will honor our agreement, and I promise you I will see to it that these others do as well. You will be free to go wherever you choose, and as far as anyone else knows, you're dead."

"May my horns fall off, and may I lose my lucky coin if I go back on my part of the agreement. There. Come on, Bish!" Neeshka held out her hand to him.

Bishop looked around at the faces of his former companions and for a moment felt something he couldn't identify, but it came to him—shame. He scowled, having thought he was finished with that useless emotion when he was a boy, the day his grandfather took him into the barn alone... He killed his grandfather later of course, but not until he was a few years older and stronger, and even then not until one day when he knew that his his grandfather had the same plan for his younger brother. He slit his throat like the pig he was instead and left for Luskan then and never looked back until he returned with his assassin squad. He was ashamed of that too. But this shame as he looked around at his former companions' faces was different. "Does it have to be here? I think you can understand I want to get out of this cave. I don't think I like everyone watching either."

Sand gestured at the entrance. "I already cast a shelter that we're using to camp in and to stable the horses. I will cast a a smaller one that we can use for the ritual as soon as you're ready. Only Elanee and Casavir need be present, though I will remain as well in the event that Elanee has need of my spells." Neeshka looked as if she was about to complain, but a look from Sand silenced her.

Wolf and Neeshka led the way out of the cave. Bishop breathed a sigh of relief as he impatiently waited for the others to get out of his way. It was all he could do not to shove them aside and run as fast as his legs would carry him, though he knew he wouldn't get far. He was weak. The druid brought him back, but only with a sliver of life. Even the brat could kill him as weak as he was right now.

Karnwyr gave him another stern nip on the arm. "No run. It's time for you to learn to join the pack, brother. You're not a bear or a mountain cat who goes his way alone. Even the bear woman knows enough to join with others."

Bishop blinked dumbly at him and pulled away from the wolf feeling ashamed again and muttered, "I don't want to look different. I liked my looks."

Casavir was hard behind him and replied gently as if speaking to a petulant child. "Surely you must see how impossible your situation would be. Your face is too well known. Lord Nasher had wanted posters sent throughout the territory after you sabotaged the gate."

Bishop considered that for a moment, having a perverse need to know what his villainy was worth. "Yeah? How much of a reward?"

"A thousand gold alive, five hundred dead. More than enough to make you a target for those capable of apprehending you, and more than enough to tempt the desperate to try their luck. Enough to tempt some to dig up your body if they knew where you were out here." He prayed silently for Tyr to give him strength. Perhaps dealing with the ranger was some sort of penance he had to perform to get her back. But it would be worth it.

Casavir stooped when he reached the entrance and stepped out into the rain. "Neeshka, Wolf, please await us in the barn. I know you would like to be there, but the fewer distractions for Elanee, the better." They looked disappointed, but went off without a word though Neeshka's tail drooped dejectedly. He stood aside and waited for the others, again offering a prayer of thanks to Tyr that they had some hope of finding Dee.

Sand paused at the entrance to the cave and turned back to face the ranger. "I can word the Polymorph spell to make you appear however you wish. It occurs to me I could even make you into an animal or a woman if you wished. Or a younger version of yourself, perhaps? Young enough that even if you were recognized, you would be thought to be only a younger relation."

He replied with a sardonic laugh. "Yeah, like I'd ever want to be female once the novelty of touching myself wore off. But I admit a wolf is tempting. But no, I like being a man." Bishop took a deep breath of the rain-freshened air ignoring the soaking he was getting, glad to be out of the confinement of his tomb. "Younger though...that does interest me. Not as young as the kid there, mind you...I don't need the zits and a cock that gets stiff at every breeze that goes along with being that age." Karnwyr gave him another happy lick and bounded out of the cave and barked at him to join him.

Sand muttered something unintelligible as he stepped outside and removed the components he needed from his pouch, ignoring the downpour that quickly soaked his robe and plastered his hair to his head. In a few heartbeats, after a few words and gestures he had conjured a cozy hut. He walked over and opened the door and smiled at them as if he was a new householder inviting the neighbors over, waving them inside. It was cozy, a bed against the far wall, a small fireplace, a comfortable chair for Sand near the fire, another larger chair for Casavir near the door, and a pile of furs on the floor for Bishop.

Though it was clear from his expression he still didn't trust them, Bishop sat cross-legged on the furs, and Karnwyr circled the floor three times then lay beside him. Elanee loosened her robe and sat on another fur where she went through her own pouches as Naloch snuggled next to her.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Casavir hid his annoyance as he leaned over to open it. Neeshka stood there, holding a pack out in her hands and stretching to see inside. "I uhh grabbed some things for Bishop I thought he would need before we left the Keep and wanted to give them to him. He can't very well go anywhere in what he's wearing. Oh, and Sand, you should make him half-elven. That would disguise him for sure." She handed the pack to Casavir as Sand looked at her aghast. "Well it was just a suggestion. I didn't say you should make him fully Elven." After straining again to catch another curious glance at what was going on in the hut, she reluctantly melted back into the rain.

Sand sniffed, "May as well make him a tiefling then."

Elanee looked up from her preparations. "I think her idea has merit, and being partially of the people would only strengthen his bond with Nature." She shrugged at the incredulous looks Bishop and Sand both gave her. But a heartbeat later, she could tell they were both considering it.

Casavir shut the door once he was sure Neeshka wasn't lingering outside and handed the pack to Bishop. "You will need a new name as well. What was your name? I can't imagine it really was Bishop." He took his journal from his own pack along with a charcoal and began to sketch quickly.

Bishop frowned, as thinking about a past that had been dead and he hadn't lived in years dredged up more pain. "You'd be wrong then. My name? Nothin' I care to go back to. It was 'Bishop Shepard,' nothing special. It was my family's, but it was almost everyone's name in Red Fallow Watch, or it seemed like it anyway. Bunch of inbred fools."

He looked through the pack. The tiefling had thought of everything—she had gotten him a new pine green cloak and a set of leathers oiled to help him move silently, a few linen shirts, trewes, and several pairs of wool socks and some small clothes. In the pocket in front he found three new bow strings and a jig for making more. He figured the kid was responsible for that addition. The rest was basic supplies like a flint and steel and a small hatchet. It was everything he would need if he left now. They really meant it. Even if there was nothing to tell, he was free. He grimaced painfully and turned back to Casavir as he stripped off his burned things. "You probably thought 'Bishop' was my rank in the guild."

"Indeed. It's an unusual name. How did you come by it then?" He handed his sketch to Bishop for his consideration. To give himself something to do to feel useful, Casavir gathered Bishop's castoffs and set them in a pile by the door. "We should bury these things before we leave in the morning."

Bishop nodded at the sketch of himself, but looking about ten years younger. One of the ears was pointed, he supposed, to give him an idea of what he would look like. He fastened the tie on his small clothes and sat back on the furs as Casavir handed the sketch to Sand, who nodded his approval. "Good idea, get rid of the evidence. I suppose it makes no difference if I tell you—Bishop was my grandfather's sick joke. You see, my ma got a job cooking and cleaning at one of the temples in Luskan and came back thick with me after they gave her the sack. My grandfather told me I was the bishop's bastard one day, but he was drunk. Then again, he usually was. Of course my older brother is...was...named after my grandfather, so make of that what you will."

He almost grinned at the look of shocked horror on the paladin's face at that revelation. But it was true, on both counts. He shrugged and was about to put on one of the new shirts but thought better of it, deciding he wanted to wash first if he could find some water nearby. He glanced around again, wondering where Sand hid his bathing tub, for he was sure there was one here somewhere.

Elanee frowned tightly as she listened and arranged a pouch of herbs, a bone knife, and a whistle on the fur in front of her. The ranger wasn't telling her anything she hadn't suspected, and she could tell by his nervous chuckles that it was the truth. She willed herself to focus on what she was doing and gave Sand some of the herbs to steep in mugs of hot water, explaining that some were for before, and some for them to drink after. She handed the whistle to Casavir, showing him how to blow it gently and explaining that she would to use as a beacon to help find their way back to the Prime.

She sat on her knees and turned to the ranger. "Lie down, Bishop. You know, there's a practice among the copper elves in which a newborn is given the name of the first thing the parents see or hear. That would be appropriate for you since this is your rebirth." As if summoned, a red-tailed hawk flew by outside at that moment and gave its piercing cry.

He shook his head. "'Hawke'...no, not me. I'd say 'Wolf,' but that's taken. Though it won't matter if I'm far away from here." Karnwyr looked up and panted in a way that made it look like he was laughing, and Bishop and Elanee were the only ones who knew he was.

Casavir looked thoughtful, amazed that this was the most relaxed he had been in tendays or almost ever in the ranger's presence and took it as a sign of his lord's blessing. "Perhaps 'Wolf' in ancient Illefarn then? I believe that's 'Mac Tir.' Or in Elven perhaps? 'Taur,' isn't it? Now that I think about it, I've met several men named 'Hawke' and more than one "Wolf" in my life, not to mention a 'Hunter' and a "Forester' who I don't believe had ever set foot in a forest."

Bishop nodded. "Yeah, no imagination, though 'Hunter' would fit. But it's as bad as bein' called by what you do, like 'Shepard' back home when 'sheep' would have been more like it. I s'pose they go with what they feel closest to though, so it makes sense. So 'Forest' maybe, or 'River' or a tree...yeah..."

He sat up and rubbed his chin as he thought about it then accepted the infusion Sand passed to him. He eyed them warily again then took a sniff followed by a deep drink and set the mug down, wondering if his sudden talkativeness was part of Sand's enchantment. "I've always liked hawthorne trees. There was a big one that grew outside the house when I was a brat. I could get to it from the attic window." He smiled as he recalled one of his favorite places to escape to when he was a boy. "Nasty thorns too, kept everyone else out." He felt the power of the herbs coursing through his body, willing him to relax. He stretched out and closed his eyes and put an arm around Karnwyr.

Sand returned a bemused smile. "I was about to suggest something prickly. 'Hawthorne, or 'Thorn' then?"

He mouthed the word as if trying on a new pair of trewes, checking for fit. "'Thorn.' Nah, it'll just remind me of what a prick I am. But 'Hunter' is good enough for now. " He relaxed despite himself, despite the paladin hovering nearby and the druid muttering something that sounded Elven, but older and more guttural. "I like birch trees too, the way they sway on the breeze, and the ash with its mottled gray bark and tiny seed cones. I used to collect them when I was a brat and string them on a cord." He chuckled. Later he could change his name to anything and no one would know. One less thing tying him to anyone. He felt himself drifting on a cloud, with Karnwyr beside him.

Then he was drifting, floating, surrounded by mists, but he could still hear the paladin rhythmically blowing the whistle and the druidess chanting. He opened his eyes and was surprised to find her standing over him with the badger beside her. But they weren't in the hut any longer. He wasn't sure where this was. They were outside somewhere, but no 'outside' he had ever seen. The air, what there was of it, was perfectly still. It was oddly humid too. He raised his remaining eyebrow at the druidess as Karnwyr took his hand in his mouth to urge him to his feet.

"We're on the Astral Plane. Come, walk with me but be alert. Tell me anything your senses perceive." Elanee stepped aside and let him lead where he would.

" Alright, but I don't know what I'm looking for. Why did we come here? Do you think she's here?" He was glad she didn't take him back there, but his nervousness was making him want to run again. He pointed in the distance. "Is that a skeleton floating over there?"

Karnwyr licked his hand. "Come on, brother, trust our sister." Bishop blinked. Apparently Karnwyr could speak aloud on this plane, or his spirit form could anyway.

Naloch raised up on his hind legs and sniffed the air. "I smell a god of bears nearby, but not the bear woman." They led him on while the badger watched shadowy shapes in the distance in the mist watching them and growled a warning when he thought they were getting too close.

Elanee peered into the distance and stopped mid-stride. "Look over there. Is that..."

"What? Is it her? Why don't both my eyes work here?" There was a shape walking towards them slowly, and as they watched the person picked up her pace. Bishop being Bishop could tell the person who seemed intent on intercepting them was female. But it wasn't her, being tall and slender but not nearly tall enough. He glanced at the druid as she gasped. "Is that the Gith?"

"It is!" Elanee quickened her pace as she recognized her friend. The Githzerai in turn seemed to be running to cover the ground between them.

Elanee drew her into an embrace when they met. "Zhjaeve! It is so good to see you, my friend! We feared the worst, but we could find no trace of you in the ruin, which let us hope you escaped."

The Githzerai drew back to meet her friend's eyes. "Know that the spell that sent me to the Prime to aid the Kalach'cha was set to trigger my return once we had accomplished our task. I am sorry my friend, but I was returned with no warning, and I have had no way since of sending you word. But it is good to see you, though the time you may spend here is short. Know that we are aware of why you are here, and I have received permission to assist you. We also know that the shard was taken from the Kalach'cha and Gith's sword has been reformed." She turned to the ranger and bowed.

A short while later, which seemed like hours as Casavir waited dutifully blowing the whistle every minute or so, Elanee gasped and opened her eyes, and a heartbeat later the ranger did as well.

Sand and Casavir were at their sides instantly, and Sand handed them each a mug. Elanee took a sip of the offered tea then shook her head sadly at Casavir. Bishop looked shaken, and Karnwyr nuzzled him and urged him to drink.

"She did just do it out of the goodness of her heart," he finally admitted hoarsely.

"We found Zhjaeve!" Elanee explained excitedly what the githzerai cleric had told them. "She wanted to come back, but it would have been too difficult."

Casavir looked as deflated as he had looked elated earlier. "That means there is nothing we can do but wait if she didn't give you any instructions."

Bishop drained the mug that Sand gave him, not caring if it put him into a deep sleep again. His voice was haunted as he spoke. "I remember it all..." He shuddered involuntarily, but it felt so good to speak of it finally, and Karnwyr was at his side still offering him comfort. "The pain, the screaming, the horror. She was there on some kind of a quest. She wasn't looking for me at all and was surprised to find me among all the other poor bastards trapped in the Wall. But she said she could hear me and see me clearly across the plane."

"She heard your voice out of the many?" Casavir had a sliver of hope that there was something that the ranger was overlooking. "What did she say to you?"

Bishop frowned. "She seemed surprised, like I said, and of course she had to lecture me about how she had warned me. Nag, nag, nag, even when I'm dead. But the other—the hagspawn—kept her focused. I don't know how I knew he was a hagpawn, but I did. He was handsomer than they're supposed to be. I think he did the same for her that Elanee did for me today. But then I could see he loves her too, or he thinks he does. She's probably the only female who's ever shown him any attention."

He wanted to grin at the dark look on the paladin's face, but he didn't, and he could hear Karnwyr growling a warning in his head too. He shot the wolf an evil look. "Yeah, nag, nag, nag, mutt...But there was something more...I remember I gave her something... I don't think it could have been real, more of a symbol. I found it where her soul was trapped in the Wall, though for the life of me I'm not sure how I made my way to her through all the others."

"She was in the Wall of the Faithless? How is that possible?" Sand didn't try to hide his incredulity, and Casavir was on the edge of his seat asking if he was certain.

"I know what I saw!," Bishop snarled at them both. Elanee put a hand on his shoulder to calm him, and for once he didn't feel like smashing her in the face as he leaned back against Karnwyr. "But she wasn't supposed to be there. She's a placeholder for the one who stole her body, the Betrayer who led the crusade to free them. The others knew it, and then a moment later I knew about the crusade too, like the story was passed to us by the wall itself. I gave her something of his. It was dead and lifeless as the Wall, but I think she could use it to free herself somehow."

"Are you saying her soul has been removed and cast into the Wall and replaced with another's? How could she even live?" Casavir looked stricken as he considered it. "Wouldn't that take the power of a god to perform such a thing?"

Sand nodded grimly. "At the very least. The Betrayer's Crusade. I swear I read something about that once..." he mused.

Bishop's voice grew hoarse again as if another voice spoke through him. "A God created The Wall, and now she is becoming the Wall, and soon she will face the god of death himself and wrest the remainder of his power from him."