Instead of leading Violet back into her cottage, Storm led the way through a side gate and out onto the hardpacked road. As they walked down the road, she pointed out various places of interest. The village catered to traveling adventurers and merchants and the few shops were geared towards them. When Violet asked about buying clothes at the general store, Storm shook her head.

"You might find something that fit you, but the quality would be poor." At Violet's crestfallen look, she smiled, "don't worry. We have an excellent weaver and a few good seamstresses. We're going past my favorite, I'll introduce you."

True to her word, Storm introduced Violet to Shay, a young, dark-skinned woman with slightly pointed ears. Violet assumed she was half-elf, but held her question, remembering Milya's warning about how touchy some could be about it. Shay assured her that it would be no problem to produce one or two outfits for her and Storm allowed them to stay long enough for her to be measured and explain what she was looking for. As they departed, Shay bade Violet to come back after dinner.

As they continued, Violet realized they hadn't discussed prices.

"Don't worry," Storm assured her. "You can sell one or two of those trinkets you have at the traders and get enough to buy four or five dresses."

After they crossed the Ashaba river, a high stone wall came into view. Violet could make out the roofs of two buildings behind it, but no details.

"That's the House of the Lady," Storm told her. "The goddess Tymora's temple."

"I don't think I've heard or read about her yet," Violet said.

"No?" Storm sounded surprised, but when she saw the flush creeping up Violet's cheeks, she shook her head. "It must be hard for you to be so out of place."

"Sometimes," Violet admitted. "The hard part is no frame of reference. I feel a little lost at times."

"I can understand that."

"But it's not all bad," she hurried to assure the other woman. "Here I can use my magic openly."

"That's the second time you have mentioned having to hide your magic," Storm noted. "What would happen back on Earth if you used it openly?"

"Well, up to about 100 years ago, I would be risking being burned as devil worshipper. I supposed even now, in some parts of the world, that's still true."

"Devil worshipper?" Storm frowned at the phrase.

"Someone evil bent of harming others," Violet offered as an over-simplified explanation.

"I see," Storm nodded as they turned down a trail that led them between the river and the temple. "And now?"

"Now?" Violet shrugged. "It's hard to describe to someone not familiar with my world." She chewed the inside of her cheek while she thought about her answer. "News travels around the world almost instantly, so people from near and far would be drawn to me by the hundreds, if not thousands. Which alone would be a pain in the neck. Half of them would want me to perform miracles or heal their loved ones. The other half would be denouncing me as either a charlatan or the harbinger of the end of the world. I would probably be in danger."

Her companion was silent for a moment, considering what she said. As they passed the temple wall, a low hill stretched before them. At the highest point, a small step pyramid rose. Storm stopped at the base of the hill and turned to Violet.

"That sounds dreadful," she said thoughtfully. "I know you've been through a lot here, but have you considered not going back?"

"I have, but…," Violet didn't finish the thought, her eyes prickling with tears.

"But what?"

"I can't feel my goddess here," she blurted out. There, she said it.

Storm's brow scrunched up at her frown, "no?"

"At first, I could, some. But the more I used this magic I have here, the less I felt her." Violet told her. "But I couldn't stop using it. If I did, my friends could have died. Now I can't feel her at all."

Storm nodded solemnly. "I understand," she said softly. "My goddess is dead."

Violet sniffled and whipped her eyes, "Tamirell told me about that." She pulled away. "I'm sorry," she said, seeing the pain on the elf's face.

"Don't be," Storm assured her. "My pain doesn't invalidate yours." She looked at the pyramid longingly before turning her attention back to Violet. "Now, I'm the one that needs to apologize."

"Why?"

"I brought you here because this is a shrine to my goddess, Mystra. Though she's gone, there's still a trace of her power here and I thought to use it for releasing the sorceress in that sapphire."

Violet smiled slightly, "then it's a good thing Annan isn't a jealous god."

"Are you sure?"

Violet nodded, "about that? Definitely."

"Very well," Storm said and started up the hill with Violet right behind her.

Like the hill, the pyramid wasn't very high, only three steps, each about a meter and a half wide, lead to the flat platform at the top covered by a simple roof supported by four columns of stone. Made from a smooth, black stone, it was inscribed in silver with an eight-point star inside a circle. That's all that adorned the shrine.

Stepping onto the black stone surface, Violet's skin prickled with goose bumps as the power brushed against her. The instant feeling of familiarity took her breath away.

Seeing the look on her face, Storm put a hand on her shoulder, "Violet?"

She looked at the elf and grinned, "it's her! I feel her."

"Who?"

"Annan, my goddess." Violet closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "This is her power."

A choked sound from Storm snapped her out of her reverie. The elf looked pained. She started to ask what was wrong, then it hit her. The power around her was from Mystra, who was dead.

"How is this possible?" she whispered.

"Maybe your Annan and my Mystra are the same," Storm said.

"But," Violet hesitated before finishing her thought, "Mystra is dead. You said so yourself."

"Here in this realm, yes, but maybe not in yours," Storm said thoughtfully. "Who knows what the gods really are and what they are capable of?"

"But if she's alive in my world, why hasn't she come back here?"

"Again, who knows what constraints they exist under?"

The two sorceresses stood silently for a long moment.

"What does this mean?" Violet finally voiced the question.

Storm sighed, "everything? Nothing? There's no way to know. For all we know, our feet are already on the path. Or it could be coincidence."

Violet shook her head, "I refuse to believe this is just a wild coincidence. There has to be a purpose behind it."

"Well, then the only advice I can give you is to stay the course you have set and see where it takes you," Storm told her.

Violet wanted to say more but remembered that Storm didn't have a lot of time. She nodded her assent, telling herself it could wait for now.

"Very well. What now?"

"Let's free your sorceress and hear what she has to say."

Once again, Violet pulled the sapphire from its pouch, then placed it in the center of the star as Storm directed. Standing back, she looked at Storm expectantly.

"Now," the elf told her, "the secret is intent."

"I thought it was control?"

Storm smiled, "they are the same thing, depending on how you look at it."

Violet frowned, "I don't understand."

Storm walked to the other side of the star, opposite Violet. "Let's say, you're attacked. What's your first reaction?"

"Scream and run away."

Storm raised an eyebrow.

"Well, until I got here, it would have been," Violet explained. "But now, I guess I would try to block the attack."

"You guess?"

"Yes, I would block the attack."

"How?"

"With my magic?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes?"

"What spell?"

"I don't know," Violet sputtered.

"So, you're just going to cower and hope your magic takes care of the problem for you?"

"I don't know!"

"Well, if you don't know," Storm pointed out, "how do you expect your magic to know? It's not sentient. It's a force, that's all. You are the one to give it intent. You, the sorcerer."

She paused to let her words sink in.

"Let's try this again," she said more gently. "This time, think. What would you do if you were attacked?"

Her face flaming with embarrassment, Violet straightened her shoulders and faced the other woman. "How am I being attacked?"

A hint of a smile crossed Storm's face before she answered. "Just one attacker with a sword."

"I want to block the sword and put some distance between us," Violet answered firmly.

"That's two things. You can only pick one. Which is it?"

"Distance."

"How far?"

"Ten meters."

"See," Storm nodded, "now your magic has a specific intent. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"But I don't have a spell for that," Violet shook her head.

Storm smiled again, "do you know what a spell really is?"

Violet smelled a trap, but she couldn't help but answer. "It's how we shape the magic to our will."

"Wrong. It's how you focus your intent. The magic follows your intent, not your words, not the symbols, not the spell components. Your. Intent." She paused, thinking. "Tell me the last spell you used."

"I'm not sure," Violet flushed. "I just cast a spell against a monster that was attacking me."

"What did you say?" Storm pushed.

Violet shook her head, "it's not safe."

"Yes, it is. Just tell me," the elf insisted.

"Èist fiadhaich ionnsaigh," Violet said, flinching.

When nothing happened, she looked at Storm incredulously.

"See?" Storm asked. "What was the difference between this and last time you said it?"

"I didn't want anything to happen?" Violet guessed.

"Yes. Now, tell me what the words mean."

"Wild attack."

"Would you believe me if said you could have said 'fluffy bunny' as long your intent was the same?"

Violet giggled at the image of the tall sorceress screaming 'fluffy bunny!' at a hoard of monsters.

"Yes, that's probably not a good idea for a spell," Storm smiled with her this time. "But can you tell me why it wouldn't be?"

"Well," Violet stifled her giggles, "besides not being able to keep a straight face while casting, I would have to remember what 'fluffy bunny' meant."

"Exactly!" Storm nodded. "Every magic user is taught that the words matter, but they don't. What matters is your belief in those words."

Violet pondered her words before asking, "then what is the point of a grimoire? If the words, symbols, and components don't matter, why bother writing them down? In fact, why have any of them at all? Couldn't I just think what I want and have it happen?"

"In theory, yes. In practice? Maybe for simple things. It depends on how disciplined you are. Would you rather rely on being able to think up a defensive spell in the middle of a battle, or have two or three memorized so you don't have to think about it?" Storm asked patiently.

"I supposed, since you put it that way, I would rather have them ready to use."

"And that is why we right them down and memorize a few when we think we might need them. It's one thing to know you can pull just about any kind of spell out of the air, but in the heat of battle, having two or three that readily come to mind…," she let the thought trail off.

Violet made the connection, "we're training our minds so we can react faster."

"Now you're getting it. And the reason for elaborate spells and rituals?" Storm prompted.

"For complicated castings with several parts, so we don't leave anything out?"

"And now you have it."

"Why aren't we trained that way, then?"

Storm shrugged again, "Maybe it was easier to train new magic users if they believed the words were important. Maybe it was a way to control them. No matter how it began, it stuck."

Storm paused and stared off into the distance, her expression unfocused. After a few seconds, she snapped out of it, looking at back at Violet.

"I apologize. My time for you just shortened, I'm afraid. I hate to rush this, but there's no helping it."

"What do I need to do?" Violet asked.

"You need to release the sorceress from her prison, so you need to think of the gem as something you want to open so she can come out. Understand? Think about how that would happen and what it would look like."

Violet concentrated on the sapphire and pictured what she wanted to happen in her mind. She thought of a hole opening in the faucets allowing the sorceress to escape.

"Do you have it?" Storm asked quietly.

Violet nodded.

"Now think of the words to make it happen."

Violet went through her Gaelic vocabulary to find the right words.

"Ready?"

Violet nodded again.

"Good. Keep that picture in your mind of what you want to happen and say the words, willing it to be."

Violet took a breath, blew it out. "èist fosgailte maireannach!" she said in a strong voice as she thought about the window opening in the gem.

Nothing happened, and Violet sagged with disappointment. Across the star from her, Storm stood still, watching the sapphire intently. The first movement was so slight, Violet might have imagined it, but then the gem wobbled violently as it began to spin and lift off the surface of the shrine. As it rose, it spun faster and faster as it was level with Violet's eyes. A faint, narrow beam of light shone from it, becoming brighter and stronger as it spun. Violet put up a hand to shield her eyes from the glare as the light grew to encompass the entire shrine.

As quickly as it came, the light died, followed by the tinkling of tiny shards of the sapphire falling onto the dark surface. Violet blinked, temporarily blinded by the bright light.

"Well, this is far from what I expected," someone said in a husky voice that she didn't recognize.

"You must be Sahba," Storm said calmly.

"Sahba Taf-Nekhta or Sahba the Red, Chosen of Kossuth. You have me at a disadvantage, elf," the other said.

"Storm Silverhand Chosen of Mystra and my companion, the one responsible for your release, Violet Byrne."

"Well met, Storm Silverhand and Violet Byrne." Sahba sounded amused.

Violet's sight began to come back, and she could make out the sorceress standing between her and Storm. Almost as tall as Storm, Sahba was swathed in layer upon layer of fine silks in various shades of red and orange, artfully draped over her bulk. Easily four times the width of Violet, with multiple chins that jiggled when she spoke and laden with jewelry that rivaled the King of Neitia, she was a formidable figure. When Sahba turned to Violet, she thought she saw a flame burning in the depths of sorceress's black eyes.

Sahba regarded Violet, taking in her simple dress and well-scuffed boots, tilting her head slightly and pursing her full lips.

"Well, you are interesting," she proclaimed after a long, uncomfortable moment. "I sense a lot of power from you, but it's raw and wild." She circled Violet; her movements strangely graceful despite her weight.

Violet unconsciously reached for the pendants tucked under her bodice.

"And you," the red sorceress continued, ignoring Violet, and turning her attention to Storm, "you claim to be the chosen of Mystra, the mother of all magic, yet I sense so little power from you that I could easily swat you like a gnat. Either you are an expert at hiding your magic, or there is something amiss here." She stopped and tapped one of her long, lacquered nails against her teeth.

Violet looked between the two women, noting that Storm's placid expression didn't change at the other's comments; a fact that seemed to amuse Sahba.

"There is much you have missed over the course of the years," Storm told her.

"So Aseiohiamenti finally succeeded in imprisoning me?" Sahba mused. Tap. Tap. Tap. Her fingernail continued. "Sho'ah-Leya, must have finally betrayed me, else he wouldn't have been able to take me by surprise," she sighed. Shaking her head she addressed Violet, "never take an apprentice, young Violet. They are like snakes that hid in the rocks around the oasis, waiting to strike when you least expect them."

When Violet didn't respond, she asked, "tell me. Did my counter spells work?"

Violet nodded, "very well. The city has been buried for centuries with everyone frozen inside."

"Centuries?"

"If you could give us some idea about your time," Storm put in, "we could get a better estimate. Right now, all we have to go on is that no one has ever heard of the Neitia empire, though we know well the Anauroch Desert."

Tap. Tap. Tap. "So, that is what they call the blight that's destroying what's left of the fertile lands of Netheril." Tap. "If your beloved goddess," she spat out the word, "wouldn't hold us to her ridiculous limits on the use of magic, we could have stopped the blight from spreading."

"That's why I've never heard of Neitia," Storm said, not responding to the criticism. "All the remnants of the Netheril empire have been buried under the sands of the desert. If Neitia existed during this time, that would have been around 1,800 years ago."

Sahba's annoying tapping stopped. "1,800 years? You're saying I've been imprisoned by that worm Aseiohiamenti for 1,800 years?" She spun to address Violet, the flames in her irises obvious now, "tell me he's still there! Tell me that stinking pile of skrehlum is still there!"

Violet took a step back at her, "I…, yes…," she stammered, "yes, he is. They all are. Frozen in time."

"Oh, you precious, precious thing," Sahba cooed, grasping the sides of Violet's head and pulling her close to kiss her on the forehead. "A boon!" she announced. "Name your reward. If it is within my power, it is yours."

Violet blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "my magic. Who is it from?"

Nonplussed at the request, Sahba shot a puzzled look at Storm, who nodded, "she needs to know who or what has gifted her with the magic you sense. They have not made themselves or their designs known."

"Now that is interesting, hum?" Tap. Tap. "Well, little pippet, let's see." She studied Violet while tapping on her teeth. "Hum." Tap. Tap. Tap.

She walked around Violet twice before stopping in front of her and shaking her head.

"Alas, pippet," she said with a wry smile. "If your benefactor does not want you to know who they are, then I dare not risk their anger by telling you."

"What?" Violet said incredulously. "You said anything within your power!"

Sahba rolled her eyes, "yeah, yeah, I did." She grinned, "let this be another lesson for you: never trust someone to do what they promise." She patted Violet on the cheek, winked, said a quick incantation, then disappeared.

Violet stood in stunned silence.

"I'd be careful about that one," Storm cautioned, "if you should ever meet her again. She may not be overtly evil, but she is very much self-serving. Any help she might offer will come with strings attached."

Violet took a deep breath and looked up at the elf with tears in her eyes, "she knew, Storm. She knew who it is."

Storm nodded, "yes, she did. Think about that," Storm prompted. "What does that tell you?"

Violet sniffled while she worked it through, "we already know they are powerful, like a god or some other powerful being."

"And?"

"And…," something was just out of her grasp. Something that struck her as odd. She replayed her last exchange with Sahba. The red sorceress had been confident during the entire conversation, until she told Violet that she couldn't divulge the source of the magic. When Sahba reached out to pat her on the cheek, her hand shook. Just slightly, but it shook, nonetheless.

"She was afraid. Really afraid."

Unconsciously, Violet shivered despite the heat of the day.