The clock neared midnight as Sooka and William continued to pore over their infernal collection. The scrolls were splayed out over the table, and the charcoal rubbing lay in the middle, some of the runes smudged thanks to stray elbows and nudging hands. The wizard and monk flitted between the scrolls, the rubbing, and the cipher, scribbling things on a spare page occasionally, muttering and writing to each other, until finally, an hour past midnight, they sat back with a sense of accomplishment and stared at the pages.

What they had decoded, as far as they could tell, was an incredibly complex and drawn-out spell that involved a process that was labeled only as a "soul change." With their combined efforts, Sooka and William determined that this dark magic that the Ghost had been using was designed to use dark changes in one's soul to manifest in a physical way. The black taffy had been some sort of catalyst for the spell, allowing the Ghost to change the addicts' evil tendencies that were directly related to their addiction into a physical reality. Disgusted as William was, he was happy to be able to mostly explain the monstrous changes they had witnessed in the various chewers, though he was sure that Sooka's understanding was more complete, so adept was she at the magical arts.

For several moments, they pondered this complex arcana, both grateful that the Ghost had been stopped. Who knows what may have become of Althea had they been unsuccessful?

"It is dark now," said William eventually. "We should head back. Thank you for bringing me here, Sooka. I couldn't have done this without you."

Smiling, she swooped a hand over the table and said, "Cake."

"I loved doing this, too," nodded William. "And maybe we can grab a cake on the way home."

Sooka nodded and grabbed the scrolls and rubbing and tucked them back into her bag.

The tiny dots of Enna and Aribis suddenly split up, and one of the crows that Bash assumed was Aribis darted toward the ground, clearly distracted by something. But a few seconds later, the crow grew tremendously in size, and Aribis's normal form became visible. Thankfully, Aribis was a skilled enough flyer that he was able to keep himself from ramming head-first into the ground, humorous as it might have been to see, and curved upward to hover a hundred feet in the air. Bash, Hoo, and Enna joined him, and Aribis turned a furious eye to Enna's tiny form.

"Don't ever do that again," he scolded.

Enna cawed several times, darting forward and pecking Aribis on the shoulder before resuming her position.

"Pretty safe to say… I never want to do that again."

She squawked again and poked him.

"You're so cute when you get mad!" chuckled Aribis.

Enna's beady eyes now turned to Bash, and she gave him one more reprimanding croak. Bash sighed as she turned and shot off toward the Circle.

I know, he thought dismally. I screwed up.

A half hour later, they alighted before the Marigold Manor just as Sooka and William approached the front gate, Sooka munching on some kind of bread and wiping her hands to dispel the crumbs. Bash gave Hoo some scratches and allowed him to pop back into his normal statue shape. After retrieving the serpentine statue off the ground, he moved to place it in his bag before realizing that his bag was still in the holding cell all the way in the Tulips.

He swore.

"What did you do?" demanded William as he strode up to the door and eyed Aribis.

Enna huffed and crossed her arms.

"What makes you think that I did anything in particular?" challenged Aribis. "Why are you singling me out?"

"The number of times you've almost died? The number of times you've thrown yourself into dangerous situations?"

"That has no bearing on this situation."

"Where's your equipment?"

"I decided that I didn't want to have it today."

Bash rolled his eyes and spun lazily on his heel.

"Bash," said William. "Where is everything?"

"He screwed us over," replied Bash, pointing at Aribis.

Aribis gaped at him, but William's attention was off the rogue for the moment, which is what he wanted.

"Aribis," prompted William.

Aribis held his hands out in irritation at Bash, who smirked back.

"Enna," said William finally. "What happened?"

She sighed, and Bash knew it was over.

"We went to check on Urgok'nir," she began. "Then we thought we'd pay a visit to Rustler."

"And… how is it that you—" he pointed between Bash and Aribis "—ended up without equipment, but you—" he pointed at Enna "—still have yours?"

"I'm not the only one who screwed up," piped up Aribis.

"They had a little visit with the Archward," sneered Enna.

"A 'little visit,'" repeated William. "So let me just—"

"Where did you two go, anyway?" demanded Enna suddenly.

"Exactly!" called Aribis, pointing now at William.

"We went to the library," replied the monk, as if theirs had been a normal jaunt to check out a couple books.

"You didn't tell us anything!" cried Enna, animated now.

"You didn't tell us nothing about it!" cawed Aribis at the same time.

"You could have left a message—"

"Didn't we make up a rule?"

"—with any of the servants!"

"No splitting the party!"

"They would have told us where you went!" Enna was waving her hands furiously at William now. "What if something would have happened to you guys, too?"

William sighed. "We went to the library. We didn't tell you. We apologize. However—"

"I don't wanna hear your apologies!" cried Aribis.

"—your equipment is gone, and you—Bash?"

"Bash, where are you going?" demanded Enna.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Bash tried to level himself. Several shouts ago, he had attempted to sneak away toward the manor, hoping the cover of darkness would be enough for him to remain unseen, but clearly, he had been wrong. He didn't want to deal with this anymore. Who cared where anyone was? Who cared if they had been tossed in jail for the night? Nobody was dead. Nobody was even hurt. What did it matter? What did anything matter at this point, as long as everyone was alive?

"Can I just go to my room, please?" he replied without turning.

"Why are you running away?" challenged Enna.

He shrugged. "'Cause I don't want to talk to you." She scowled at him.

"Is your equipment with the Archward?" asked William.

"Yes."

"You know what, I can't deal with this right now," said Enna, waving her hand and marching off toward the grounds.

"Me, either," chirped Aribis, and he began hopping toward the door.

"Aribis," said William. "Is your equipment with the Archward?"

"YES," said Bash, leaning forward as if speaking to a partially deaf person.

"We should go get it back."

"It's past one in the morning," protested Aribis.

Rolling his eyes, Bash turned and marched toward the manor door, not stopping for anyone this time.

"Prisons don't close at night."

"But we can just get it tomorrow."

"We have the memorial tomorrow."

"So, let's go to the memorial and then go get our stuff after that."

The voices faded into the distance, and Bash stepped into the manor and shut the door behind him. Gritting his teeth all the way, he made his way up to his room, slammed the door, then immediately felt a twinge of guilt at the loud noise. Still, what did it matter? If he woke someone up, that would just be typical.

Alone, he stood breathing heavily. He recalled day after day, year after year, century after century of successful missions. Always, he had been at the top of his game. Only for a brief time, after Ruby, had he ever been less than optimal on his jobs. And even then, he had taken a couple months off anyway to offset that problem. What was his issue now?

He threw a hand up to his brow, as if he could block his vision of the memories now running around in his head. Leaving Agneward a year ago was where everything had started going wrong. Enna had begged him to leave with her… and why had he agreed?

At the time, he had verbalized a need to let Rolen "cool down" after their close encounter, to let the story of the Ghost play out without him. He had decided that if he stayed gone long enough, Rolen would have convinced himself that it was worthless to continue his pursuit of Bash. But Bash knew that Enna herself had also played a part in his decision to leave, her beautiful green eyes always able to get more out of him than he'd ever wanted. The century he had spent with her had made him afraid of what would be left over when she was gone.

But ultimately, he now realized that he had left because he was scared of being caught. He remembered his stalwart panic as he had run from Rolen and the ultimate terror that had kept him from any sort of rest the next several nights. Until they had left Agneward.

Leaving with Enna and joining the Mireguard had spared him the undying terror of being found out. It had spared him the need to face the reality that he had slipped up. That he had failed. And now, the same fear that had kept him out of the city was the reason that the Ghost had been free to trample on the people of Agneward for so long. It was the reason Rolen was dead and Enna's heart was broken. It was the reason that Aribis and Enna had both died. How many other lives were on his conscience? It felt like thousands.

He had given Aribis a speech about keeping a level head, and yet how many times had Bash let his heart rule him? He had left Agneward because of fright. He had killed Aunn and led Enna to her death because of rage. He had let Rustler's doppelganger live because of fear. And he had gotten himself jailed because of a thirst to prove himself.

How many more foolish decisions could Bash make? What if the next one cost them a life that couldn't be retrieved again?

His hatred of himself built until it rushed out of him. Bash screamed his frustration, snatched a vase from the dresser, and hurled it against the wall, where it shattered, sending tiny pieces of glass all over the floor. Wildly, as if on a rampage, he began kicking and shouting, ripping the curtains off the bed and tearing them into shreds. Then several minutes later, huffing, he sat on the foot of the bed, head in his hands, his anger daring to give way to tears.

And then came a knock on the door.

Bash ignored it.

Another knock came.

Bash ignored it.

Then a whole host of knocks came, like the incessant badgering of an annoying chicken.

"Who is it?" asked Bash, knowing full well the answer.

The knocking continued.

"Go away, Aribis," he called.

The knocking intensified.

On the verge of screaming, Bash sighed angrily, marched over to the door, and wrenched it open.

"What!" he demanded.

Aribis was indeed the belligerent bird banging on the door, and he now flicked his fingers at Bash's face, whispering some incantation as he did so. Bash flinched his eyes closed as if he had been sprayed with water, and he felt the magic working on his mind. Something was trying to brush away his anger, but he wouldn't let it. The feeling passed, and Bash was now only more irritated at Aribis and his annoying schemes. He glared at Aribis.

"So… How we doing?" asked Aribis annoyingly.

Bash put on a falsely chipper attitude. "Well, you interrupted me, so."

"Aye! I heard. You were having a little hissy fit like a little girl."

"Like you have all the time?"

"No, not quite."

Bash stared at him flatly.

"Just go away," he commanded as he tried to shut the door, but Aribis placed his body in the way.

"You're gonna have to shut the door on my head," said Aribis.

Bash shrugged and tried to close the door forcefully on Aribis's head. The door smacked him, but he remained in place.

"Aribis! GO AWAY!" shouted Bash.

"No," he replied. "Not until you get this out."

"I just threw a vase. Isn't that good enough?"

"No, it's not. 'Cause throwing things doesn't actually help things."

"It does. You should try it."

"It might diffuse a bit of anger, but it doesn't help solve the problem."

"I can't solve the problem anyway!"

"You don't know until you try. Maybe you can't solve the problem, but maybe somebody else can. Or maybe they know someone who can."

"Can you just leave me alone, please?"

"Nope."

Bash paused. He might not be able to get out of this one.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked.

"I want you to tell me what's eating ya," said Aribis. "What's your issue?"

Bash scoffed. "What isn't?"

"I don't know. What's with the mood?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean. Don't play dumb."

Bash huffed. "Everything is stupid," he explained.

"What exactly is stupid?"

Bash sighed and bowed his head slightly. "You're not going to leave until I talk, are you?"

"No, I'm not."

Rolling his eyes, Bash turned away from the door, allowing Aribis entry. Then he moseyed over to the bed and sat at the foot while Aribis shuffled in and hopped up to rest on a chair, where he waited expectantly.

"Don't mind the drapes," muttered Bash, the shreds of cloth strewn about him.

"Not at all," dismissed Aribis.

There was a long pause while Bash tried to think of ways to pass off Aribis and get him to leave. In the end, he couldn't think of anything. He supposed that honesty was his only way out.

"I can't do anything right," he breathed. "That's my problem." He paused, and before he knew it, the words were spilling out of him. "I can't do anything right. Everything goes wrong. I thought I was good at this, I thought I was good at everything, and I guess I'm not."

"Okay…" said Aribis, pensive for a moment. "I hate to point it out, but we did just save an entire city."

Oh, Bash remembered. He remembered whose bolts had dealt the deathly blows to the Ghost. He remembered his own terror in the face of such a monster. He remembered his failure to deliver on his promise to Erathis. Whether or not she cared.

He pointed at Aribis and said, "You did."

"No, we worked as a team. We all did."

Bash shook his head.

"I understand that you don't work well with others," said Aribis. "And maybe this is something new for ya. But you're just as much responsible for this as any of us."

"I am responsible. I'm responsible for the death of two of my party members. I'm responsible for the death of the three soldiers who died fighting with us last night."

"And again, we are all responsible for that."

"No, no, see…" Bash looked up at Aribis, ignoring the tears that welled in his own eyes. "Because this was my city, and it was my job to keep it safe. And then I left, and it all fell apart. Because I wasn't here. So, everyone – everyone – who died was on me." He blinked, and a tear fell and tumbled to the floor as his lower lip trembled.

"Who exactly made it your responsibility to protect an entire city?" asked Aribis pointedly. "One person can't do that. Not alone."

"But that's what I did," said Bash.

"How?"

"I took care of all the bad guys before they could do anything really evil, before they could take over the city and use it as their playground. Or if they tried, I would stall them, inconvenience them. I foiled so many of Rolen's plans. And I was good at it."

"But… those were people, right? Perhaps different races, but people all the same. Normal, mortal people. What we just dealt with was neither mortal nor normal. Are you honestly going to tell me that you think you could have handled that on your own?"

Wiping his eyes, Bash looked down again. "I should have at least been here."

"I'm not one that believes in 'the divine plan,' as it were. But I will offer you a little bit of logic here. I know, strange. If you were still here, that means the rest of us would not have been, and we would not have been here to help save the city. So, you had to leave, to come back, to save what you left."

Overwhelmed, Bash began to sob quietly.

"I understand that you're having a hard time," continued Aribis. "And I understand that you're feeling all the guilt in the world. But there's one thing that I will remind you of, and I want you to take it to heart, and then I will leave you alone." He leaned forward. "We are your friends. We are your family."

Bash sniffed and wiped his face. He had been alone all his life. Family in the past had meant nothing more than people who had belittled him because of circumstances beyond his control. Friends had come to mean nothing more than those who had shared a drink with him at the end of a long day.

And then Enna came. And then the others.

"We're a family," William had said. Enna had said. Sooka had said. And now, Aribis had said.

Was this what a family was supposed to be? What was it to lean on others for help? He had seen it, but the last time he had tried, it had ended horribly. Hearts had been broken. Was it possible to love without heartache? Did he even want to find out?

Whatever the answer to that question, Bash was now overcome with a strange love for this annoying bird man and the others spread around the manor. He had already decided that they were worth dying for. Now, he supposed, they might be worth living for, too.

"We're a family," he whispered through his tears.

"Aye," confirmed Aribis.

"I guess we can figure it out in the morning," said William, shaking his head angrily and watching Enna stomp herself over to the stables.

"You know, she perched on my shoulder!" said Aribis as if he were accusing Enna of a grievous sin.

"What, as a bird?"

"No, as a chipmunk. Yes, funny man! As a bird."

Sighing, William turned away from Aribis. "Thank you for all your help, Sooka," he said. "Tomorrow, we'll resolve all this. All these other children should probably go to bed."

William eyed the silhouette of Enna moving across the grounds and noticed her wiping her eyes.

"Thank you for all your help," Sooka replied.

William gave Sooka a small smile before shooting Aribis a stern look, and then he took off after Enna.

The moon was high overhead, the stars twinkling behind them and the werelights before them. Enna seemed in her element, grieved as she was, and William felt a bout of compassion for her plight. Clearly, she was overwhelmed, as they all were. At least Enna was the one willing to do something about it.

She entered the stables, where she paused a moment and sighed before going up to pat the neck of Whinny, one of the horses. As she placed her forehead in the horse's mane, William approached and rapped his knuckle lightly on the door frame to announce his presence.

"Is one person too much company?" he asked as he crossed his arms and leaned on his shoulder.

Pulling away from the horse, she wiped her eyes and shook her head. "You're welcome to come in, William," she said.

He stepped inside the stable and greeted Prince, who stood in the stall between Whinny and Racer.

"Why did you choose the stables?" asked William.

"This city weighs on me," she replied. "It's hard for a druid to be in a city this big. The connection to nature feels muted, and it's more than just a source of magic for me. It feels like a part of my life, of who I am. When that's muted, it makes everything feel so much worse. One of the ways I've found that strengthens that connection is to spend time with plants and animals. Parks, the stars, stables… anything to keep that connection alive."

"So, you're missing your connection to nature. Is that what has you troubled?"

"If only it were just that…" She sighed.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"I've been wanting to talk about it for a long time. We've done so many things since we came back, and I've tried to talk about everything that's happened, but we haven't had the opportunity."

"It's true. We even lost Sopheta, and we didn't give ourselves a chance to speak about it."

"I looked for her today," said Enna. "I was originally going to scry for my mother, but we found her, thankfully. So, I tried for Sopheta. I don't think she's on this plane of existence anymore…" She trailed off, clearly seeing something besides the horse in front of her.

"And what of you and Bash?" pressed William. "Clearly something is going on."

She shook her head. "He's an idiot."

"Everyone can see that."

Enna chuckled. "I don't know what to do about him."

"Well," began William, and suddenly he found himself choked up. Memories of his own love flashed in his mind, and a distant grief threatened to come to the surface. But he couldn't let that happen. Not now.

He cleared his throat and tried again.

"I have some regrets in my life, but one thing I'll never regret is having too much love for someone. Just know that no matter how much pain there is, no matter how much strife, no matter how much negativity, always hold onto that love. It's stronger than any other bond we can forge."

She hesitated. "What do you do when they won't accept it?"

"That's a great question. Though we all want love, we can't force it on others. All we can do is love them regardless."

Enna turned to William, tears in her eyes. Her voice cracked as she said, "But what if you know that they love you, too? And they just won't act on it."

"It is still his choice. It's difficult. I have had to deal with that as well. But in time…" He shook his head. He had to dispel the feeling before it overtook him.

Filling his hesitation, Enna added, "I don't know why he holds back." She sighed, now pacing back and forth. "But I won't give up on him. I can't."

"Even if you have to love him from afar, just know that he knows how you feel."

"I think that's what is most frustrating, though. Of all the people, he's the one that I really need the most right now. He understands everything that I've been through here in Agneward. He knows about all my struggles with my brother. He was there at the worst times. And I can't even talk to him about it even though I know that he loves me."

William shook his head. The overgrown child of Bash was a fool indeed. Still, William held compassion for his frustrations and his inner demons. He, at least, could empathize with that. Enna struggled, but it was a different struggle. She was exhausted, grieved, spent. Bash had lost himself entirely.

"He, too, is in pain. But that doesn't mean that he doesn't love you. He just needs time to understand his own feelings."

"I don't even understand my own feelings. Too much has happened. How do I even process the fact that I died?" She shook her head. "I don't know… The Ghost is gone, and I'm glad for that, but what am I supposed to do now? I just want to go home."

William jumped on the opportunity to take her mind elsewhere for a moment. "Where is your home?" he asked.

"The enclave." She knelt and snatched a piece of hay off the floor before twirling it between her fingers. "It's been a long time, and I miss it and my family."

"You know, I don't think I've ever been to a druid enclave. What's it like?"

"It's beautiful." Finally, Enna smiled, and William couldn't help but do the same. "I wish I could show it to you. Most people live in trees. We don't cut them down, though. We live within the trees as they live. We grow them into houses. With every single action taken, everyone is so conscious of the influence they have over nature." She sighed. "I spent so many years there. The people are so kind. And you could go out your back door, run into the woods, and disappear for a whole day. I never worried about dangers. Of course, the world is less scary as a kid, before you learn of all the death and heartbreak, but I would run around with my siblings, and we had a great time."

"If your siblings are anything like you, I'm sure it's one of the best places to be."

She smiled again. "Maybe I'll go back sometime."

"I hope you do."

Sitting, Enna leaned back against the far door frame and gazed out the doorway. William sat as well, leaning up against the opposite post and watching the clouds move over the city, obscuring the moon every so often, only to reveal it and its enlightening beams once again.

"I wonder if my mother would want to go," she muttered. Then realizing that she had spoken aloud, she added, "It's been a long time since she's been there."

"Is that where she met your father?" asked William.

"Yeah," chuckled Enna. "It's a funny story. My mother isn't a druid, of course."

"Of course." William was pleased that he had elicited joy once again.

"She got herself lost in the woods and came face to face with a bear." Enna laughed. "She thought she was done for, but my dad happened to be patrolling that night and came across them. He convinced the bear to leave and then took her back to the enclave to tend to some of her wounds. And then… she stayed. She chased him until he agreed to marry her."

"Just like you and Bash," said William with a twinkle in his eye.

Chuckling, Enna said, "A little different, but I guess… not too dissimilar."

"Just give him time," comforted William. "You may have to wait a lifetime." An odd thought, for sure, but William understood that he would be long dead before either Bash or Enna were advanced in age.

"I told him I'd wait for him." She pursed her lips. "I don't want to wait long, though. I am a little impatient."

"I can understand."

They returned to their quiet observation of the sky. Enna's tense expression softened over time, and her shoulders began to relax. Her head finally leaned back against the wood frame, and William allowed his to do the same. He considered his friends, these helpless people that traveled with him. Fate had brought them together and back here. Fate had guided them to Sooka and to their defeat of the Ghost. He smiled to consider his friendships, strained as some of them might be. A moment later, he frowned to recall the incident in the Sour Apple. His love of the others had put them in danger. He looked down at his hands. There was no change. He rubbed them together. They felt cool.

He began to recall Sooka's face, her expression of terror as that… thing had overwhelmed him. And yet, despite her aversion to fire, she had remained to help him through his difficulty. And after their evening spent at the library, he felt closer to her than before. She had helped him despite his unsure connection to infernal, and it was more than he deserved.

But he mustn't consider that now. He shook his head and turned his gaze to the Marigold Manor, wherein lay the two fools of Bash and Aribis.

A yawn suddenly threatened to escape him, and he considered that perhaps it was time to head for bed. They did have a memorial to attend in the morning, after all. But his room seemed so far away…

"William, you're not going to run away, are you?" asked Enna suddenly. He snapped his eyes to her as she peered at him, full of worry and concern. "You'll stay with us?"

"Of course," smiled William. "We're family."

"Good. I don't want you disappearing on us. I don't know what plagues you or anything about your past struggles, but I want to help you with them."

"Thank you, Enna." He smiled.

"You can rely on us."

William nodded and stood. He had intended to head for bed, undecided about whether that meant entering the manor, but there was something else that needed to be said. Enna deserved more than what he had mentioned about their trip to the library. The infernal runes flashed in his mind; she hadn't been there in the chamber when he had been trying to read them.

"The reason Sooka and I went to the library," he said suddenly, "was because down in that chamber, I was able to read the runes, but I didn't know what they said. We went to translate them. I don't understand how I could read them, either, but I know that there's more to it than just the Ghost. Something more."

Enna shuddered, worry returning to her features. That had not been his intention.

"But that's for another time," he said, dismissing it. "We still have a tournament to win, and I have a hag to repay."

"I hope she doesn't cause any problems, but she wouldn't be the first hag that we've taken care of, either."

He recalled their argument that had led to the purchase of the potions.

"Enna, I want to apologize. I do trust you to heal the party. I'm sorry for my weakness."

She stood and embraced him. "It's okay. Thank you. I shouldn't have lashed out at you, either." She pulled away. "I've felt so helpless recently, and having healing potions to supplement spells is a great idea. I've just been too emotional."

"Well, maybe—" William turned to gaze at the manor, trying to decide "—we should take a proper rest this time."

"I was thinking I'd just sleep out here," she grinned. "But it might not be too comfy for you."

Decision made, he thought.

"I have slept in worse, believe me."

"I do. I've traveled for a hundred years, and I've learned to be comfortable in a lot of situations."

"As have I, although I am not a hundred years old. I do find it curious, however, that Bash is hundreds of years old and yet has the mentality of a child. Are you sure he's the one you want to be with?" He grinned.

"William, I am three hundred forty-one years old. I don't think I've ever been more sure about anything in my life. I've watched him for a hundred years. Longer than your lifetime." She flashed a grin. "He seems immature at times, but his actions often show otherwise except when he's running from his problems, and that is the most irritating thing about him. But I still love him."

"If it helps, I'll always be here to get you all out of trouble. Because clearly, you lot cannot stay out of it."

"I can't tell you how many times I've gotten him out of jail," she smirked.

"I believe it," smiled William. "And I will retire to that hay pile over there. I don't feel like going up flights of stairs right now. Good night, Enna."

"Good night, William."

"Good night, Sooka," said Aribis as Sooka nodded and shut the door to her room. She thought she had heard shouting and something break down the hall, and she figured Aribis was going to address whatever it was as he headed off in that direction. Deciding to ignore it herself, she turned and settled by a candle which she lit with the flick of her finger. Then reaching in her bag, she withdrew the infernal scrolls. She couldn't remember which one was which, but she grabbed one, unfurled it, and gazed at it in the firelight.

Such interesting magic, she thought. If only she could unfurl its nuances as easily as the scroll itself. Even after six hours with William in the Library of Illumination, she felt that there was something she was missing. Something promising. She was determined to figure it out.

Grabbing the notes she and William had made, she laid them out on a desk beside her, and her eyes darted back and forth between them and the scroll.

There's something here, she told herself. Something important…

For an hour, she tried to grasp the contents. There was something she wanted… something that intrigued her.

The Ghost was either brilliant or a foolish puppet, and Sooka could not decide which. His plan was astounding in its detail, so much of it hinging upon this infernal magic.

As she studied, she detected hints of another spell, one that bound him to this plane. Eventually, she realized the details. Where a rakshasa would normally reanimate upon death, those who constructed the Ghost's masterful prison had found a way to bind him there, tethering a fragment of the plane of Avernus to that chamber so that whenever he died, he would return to his bindings.

What ingenuity! What advanced techniques!

But the Ghost had been unsatisfied with this. He had been attempting to change the confines of his deathly prison. He wanted to be free of his shackles.

Sooka furrowed her brow and withdrew a different scroll. Perhaps closer to what she sought, it spoke of the monstrous thralls that the Ghost had been able to create.

"Soul change," she muttered in William's voice, finding again the infernal name.

She determined that the Ghost had been attempting to amplify the soul change, though the source of such amplification eluded her. Sooka sighed and ran a hand over her face before refocusing on the scroll. Finally…

There! The soul. Those words over and over again. A soul to amplify his reach and create thralls from… nearly a mile way!

Gasping, Sooka made the connection.

"Finish the Colosso Exhibition," she quoted. "Then leave. And I will let you all go."

The words of the Ghost rang across her room, and she realized what would have happened had they followed his orders. The thousands in attendance at the Exhibition and any other chewers in the area would have been turned into monstrosities and consumed the city. There would have been no Agneward left to save. And Althea's very soul would have been the source of amplification, dispersed from her body for the Ghost's evil intentions.

Sooka shook her head in disgust. Though, intrigued as she was, she was not satisfied. The thing she wanted… The phrase she had missed… Which scroll had it been in? She dug around in her bag and pulled out one more, hoping that this would be the one. To her great delight, it was.

This was the scroll that detailed the evil workings of the Ghost's transformation of the chewers. She dug deep, heart racing as she studied. The spell… it changed the physical characteristics of those affected. It turned humans, elves, kenku, halflings into such evil, debased, nauseating creatures. But could it be changed? Could the outcome be manipulated into good?

The original spell required two sacrifices, denr resin, and other inconsequential ingredients. Perhaps… she could tinker with it. Sure, she might have to spend some gold on various items, and it might take her years, but there was a chance. Perhaps she could learn to control how and what on the body was changed. Perhaps she could bend this magic to her designs instead of the evil designs of the rakshasa.

Perhaps she could one day find her voice.