Laronius hovered upside down in total darkness, his feet pressed against the ceiling of the dungeon. It was one of his old childhood games brought to life. As a young boy he had spent hours lying on beds, chairs, and boulders with his head upside down, imagining that the whole world was upside down with a dirt ceiling and nothing but an endless abyss below. Laronius was disgusted at the memory of the snot-faced boy he once was, but the game still amused him. He even found it useful.

Since becoming a vampire, his skin burned and blistered when exposed to direct sunlight, and even under thick robes on stormy days he could not stay out in daylight for long. So Laronius had been forced to stay underground during the day. He resented any kinds of rules or restrictions, and so at first he had tried to defy the limitation by staying within the inner rooms and secret passageways of the fortress above the ground. Unfortunately, even rooms in the heart of the stronghold had some kind of window or other access to the sky outside, and he found that he spent far too much time trying to maneuver within constantly shifting shadows.

Recalling his old game of turning the world upside down had proved a valuable tool in maintaining his pride. Once safely underground by himself, he would float to the ceiling and rotate himself to reorient his perspective. He would then tell himself that the door he had come through now led to a bottomless pit that only fools would stumble into, and he would then begin “climbing his way up” through the seemingly endless underground levels of the fortress.

No one bothered Laronius when he explored underground. Vdekshi and his servants all called the area belowground the “dungeon” of the stronghold, but only the three levels closest to the surface actually had any doors or locks, and those had all been added by Vdekshi when he claimed the stone keep. In reality, the rooms below seemed to be an intricate network of cellars and storerooms. Some rooms even had wells and underground springs, which annoyed Laronius with the way they disrupted his upside-down game.

In fact, it was the game that had caused Laronius to explore so much of the subterranean halls. Normally he would have been wary of being confined so deep below the ground, even as a vampire, but when playing his game, Laronius imagined himself ascending higher and higher through a great tower. It was by venturing so “high” that Laronius had discovered his favorite rooms.

“The Mausoleums,” as Laronius called them, were something of a curiosity. The first time he had come across the various plaques, medallions, and stone carvings inside, he thought he had found a collection of great trophy rooms. Certainly there were depictions of individuals performing incredible feats and challenges. It was the repetition of names and the unusually advanced ages of the people recorded on the markers that tipped Laronius off to their true nature. These were not rewards for the living, but memorials for the dead.

They were certainly no royal tombs, by any standards. For one thing, there were no bodies, bones, or even ashes to be found anywhere, despite considerable searching by Laronius. Nor was there any display of wealth or status anywhere. No jewels or precious metals, not even a single coin. The markers themselves all seemed sturdy and expertly crafted, but none of them could be called ornate. It was if not a single one of them had tried to show up the others. Pity.

Of all the Mausoleums, Laronius’ favorite was the one he called, “The Tunnel to Ruin.” The door outside the Tunnel to Ruin appeared little different from all the other doors, except that it had a lock. It had taken Laronius countless attempts, and more than a little patience, but he had finally managed to pick the lock. And when he stepped inside, he considered it worth every moment.

Unlike the majority of the rooms that had the shape of proper rooms or cellars, the Tunnel to Ruin was remarkably long and sloped slightly downward. For the first few steps into the room, it was about as wide and narrow as a hallway. The stone walls were smooth to the touch except for the hundreds of names, ages, and lines painstakingly carved into them. From the way the lines seemed to connect each name to another, and the way they seemed to be grouped into family units, Laronius had gathered it must have been some kind of extensive pedigree.

Continuing further into the room, the quantity of names grew from hundreds to thousands, and the width and height of the room increased to fit them all. At the most spacious portion of the Tunnel to Ruin, the walls and ceiling were actually high enough and wide enough to fit the entire cottage where Laronius had grown up. It did not stay that wide for much further though.

Continuing downward, the room quickly became narrower, the walls rougher, and the names far less carefully carved on. Several family lines seemed to end abruptly, while others diminished with each additional generation. The room itself came to a jarring end to a wall of cold, jagged, naked stone. At the end of the room, lying on the floor, was an old broadsword.

It was not polished, but it was certainly not in disrepair either. The blade was sharp and it showed no signs of rust or decay. Like the memorial plaques, the sword appeared sturdy and simple, except at the handle. Engraved on the wood of the handle as well as the metal hilt was an intricate carving of wheat growing on a sunny field.

The sword was not hanging on display or even resting against the wall, but was lying crookedly on the floor as if simply discarded by its owner. Laronius had tried to lift the curious sword, but had been disappointed at every attempt. Not only did the sword fail to even budge, no matter how hard Laronius strained to lift it, he always experienced the unnerving sensation whenever he grabbed the sword that he was being watched and judged. Laronius hated to be judged.

Above the spot where the sword lay was the final name in the great family tree. This name had not been carved carefully or neatly. Indeed, unlike the other names, it did not appear to have been carved using any kind of chisel at all. Instead, it appeared as if the sword below it had been used to slash out jagged letters into the rock, spelling out the name, “Seth the Traitor.”

It had been several years since Laronius had discovered the Tunnel to Ruin, and he had all but given up on his seemingly useless search for any clues about the fate of the room. Now, he hovered next to the sword and final name again. He grinned wickedly as his words echoed in the empty room.

“Well Seth, if you won’t let me pick up this remarkable sword of yours, it looks like I’ll have to get your great-grandson to do it for me.”

As Seth stepped into Aluanna’s large tent, the first thing that he noticed was the scent hanging in the air. It was not powerfully fragrant like a perfume or incense, but it was very pleasant and hung lightly on the still air. The mild earthy scent reminded him vaguely of flowers blooming in the spring, and brought a smile to his face. His heartbeat quickened at the thought that he was privileged to be standing there, but when he looked down at the mud on his boots, his face flushed with embarrassment.

If Tarun and Shon had noticed the wonderful smell when they entered the tent, they gave no sign of it. Tarun wore a guarded expression, as if preparing for an argument or interrogation. His arms were not folded like the night before, but he was definitely not relaxed. In one hand he held a piece of rope that had broken off of the wagon covering as he had hastily tied it down. Seth winced as he saw that the rope was dripping dirty water inside the tent.

Shon still looked thoroughly frustrated with his wet clothes and face. Seth wondered to himself if Shon was still angry with him for assisting Tarun with the wagon. Out of the corner of his eye, Seth noticed that Shon was rubbing one hand on his clothes to dry it off, and then the other, but made a disgusted face whenever he switched hands for hold his wet staff.

Aluanna regarded the three of them with a hard and determined look, though Seth couldn’t tell if this was because she was offended by their appearance and demeanor, or because of the gravity of what she was about to say to them. Toj had certainly made it seem serious when he came to fetch them, as it was the first time he had seen the satyr without his usual half smile. Seth felt the urge to apologize, though he couldn’t quite think of what to apologize for.

Thankfully, Aluanna did not make Seth endure the uncomfortable silence for long. As soon as flap of the tent had closed, and it was clear that no one else would be entering behind them, Aluanna spoke. “I was hoping I would have more time to get to know you three before having this conversation,” she said. “But the arrival of the rains means that I no longer have that luxury.”

“Has something happened?” asked Seth. “When we spoke last night I thought-”

Aluanna raised a hand to silence him. “Please don’t speak yet,” Aluanna said abruptly, cutting him off. Seth’s face went red again and he took a small step back. “Toj, do you have your fiddle with you? Good, I believe you know the song I need you to play.”

Tarun took a step back and defensively put a hand on the door flap of the tent. “Is he casting a spell?” he asked, staring darkly at Aluanna.

“A mild one, yes,” Aluanna said matter-of-factly. “But he isn’t casting it on you, so there’s no need to glower as if you’re going to hit someone. His playing will merely ensure that anything said within this tent will not be heard outside of the tent.”

Toj began playing a lively but low melody on his instrument, and everyone looked at Tarun to see what he would do. After a moment had passed, Tarun seemed satisfied that there was no danger, and lowered his hand as he stepped away from the door.

“Are you worried that you have spies in your camp?” Shon asked quietly. “Because if you suspect one of them, perhaps I could-”

“No,” Aluanna said, waving her hand and dismissing Shon’s offer. “Dealing with traitors is something I can handle. It’s being overheard by those putting their faith in me that has me worried.” As she spoke, her shoulders seemed to slump and she rubbed her neck in a tired sort of way. Seth was taken aback at how quickly her stern and regal stance turned to one of exhaustion.

“Lady?” Seth said, concern growing on his face. “Is everything alright?”

Aluanna straightened up and opened her mouth to speak, but stopped. She looked over to Toj who was still playing his tune, and the satyr gave her a small nod. She took a deep breath and relaxed her shoulders again. “No,” she said quietly with a slight smile on her lips. “I can truthfully say everything is far from alright.”

“Then how can we help?” Seth asked eagerly.

“You can start,” Aluanna said, her serious expression returning, “by telling me plainly and specifically what your intentions are.” She sat on a round stool next to a cot, and then gestured to some other stools in the corner for Seth and the others.

“I shared my story with you last night,” Seth said as he sat down. “Did you not believe me?”

“You told us all what brought you here,” said Aluanna. “You didn’t say anything about what you plan to do now that you’re here.” Aluanna turned her head to look at Shon and Tarun. “And your friends here have told me neither.”

Tarun gripped the rope in his hand tightly and water dribbled more quickly from it. “Vdekshi created an abomination,” he said, anger growing on his face. “A dragon warped with poison and dark magic.” At Tarun’s mention of the dragon, Seth noticed Shon place a hand to the side of his head.

“Her brood killed our traveling companions,” Tarun said, and then paused. “They killed our friends. Vdekshi is responsible for creating those monsters, and I’m going to make sure he never does it again.”

“You intend to kill the necromancer, then?” Aluanna asked.

“If necessary,” said Tarun. As Seth stared at Tarun’s hard expression, it occurred to him for the first time just how terrifying someone Tarun’s size could be when angry.

Aluanna regarded Tarun for a long moment, then suddenly turned her attention to Shon. “And what about you?” she asked. “You look less enthusiastic than your friend is with plans of storming fortress walls and killing necromancers. So what are you doing here?”

Shon seemed unprepared for the conversation to shift to him, and he stammered for a moment before finding his words. “Well, I’m friends with Tarun and I’m here, uh… Well I’m looking… for my parents.”

Aluanna’s tone changed from probing to puzzlement. “And you believe that Vdekshi has captured them?”

“Well,” said Shon, shifting in his seat, “no. I mean, I certainly hope he hasn’t, but I hadn’t really considered that before. I just, you know, I’m Tarun’s friend. I go where he goes. Rain storms and vampire attacks included.”

“That’s quite a loyal friend you have there,” Aluanna said with a smile. Even Tarun visibly relaxed at the comment. “And how about you?” she asked, turning to Seth. “Do the commands of the Ancient One include killing Vdekshi?”

“Well,” said Seth, his eyes darting between Aluanna and Tarun, “I don’t actually know yet.”

“What?!” shouted Tarun. “I thought you said you wanted to help us. You said you believed you were supposed to join with us? Why would you join us if you weren’t going to help us stop Vdekshi?”

“I do want to help,” Seth added hastily. “It’s just, well, I don’t know for certain if killing anyone is what I’m supposed to do here. That part just doesn’t… it doesn’t feel like the right path.”

“It is if you intend to walk the same path as we do,” said Tarun.

“You should listen to Seth for a moment,” Aluanna said softly. “There is likely more at stake here than you alone can see, Tarun.”

“I can’t believe this!” said Tarun. “I thought you hated Vdekshi as much as we do. And now you’re saying we shouldn’t stop him? Whose side are you on, anyway?”

“It’s not as simple as that,” Aluanna said, straightening her back again. “Vdekshi has been a plague on this region since before I was born, and the creatures he commands are terrible. I am no friend of Vdekshi.”

Aluanna paused and stared directly into Tarun’s eyes. He took a deep breath and nodded. “Go on,” he said.

“Vdekshi’s forces are terrible,” Aluanna continued, “but the strange thing is that they aren’t as terrible as they could be. Have you ever heard of ghouls that stay within borders? Or phantoms that bring prisoners in alive? That is not the way such creatures behave, and yet the ones belonging to Vdekshi do. It’s as if he’s the reason they exist, but he’s also the reason they don’t just tear everyone and everything apart. Who’s to say what could be unleashed if you kill him.”

“I thought you and your band were the ones keeping his forces in check,” said Shon.

Aluanna leaned forward and put her head in her hands, looking utterly defeated. She glanced quickly at Toj to make sure he was still playing before she spoke again. “If only that were true,” she said with a sigh. “My music has power to give courage and comfort, and when necessary I can enchant and confuse. I can enhance and guide the emotions of others, but what good is that against Vdekshi’s forces? Most of them feel nothing, and the ones that do feel only malice and cruelty.”

“So why fight at all?” asked Tarun.

“Because if I don’t, no one else will,” Aluanna said firmly. “The people in the nearby villages need hope and they need protection. Without something to believe in, they’ll either abandon the land to darkness, or abandon themselves to despair.”

As Aluanna spoke of hope, Seth felt a familiar warm, swelling sensation in his chest. Hope was right. Hope was the path he needed. Seth tried to think of the right question to keep Aluanna talking about bringing hope, but before he could think of what to say, Shon spoke up.

“I thought you said that Vdekshi kept his monsters within some kind of boundary,” said Shon. “Why do the people need protection if they can just stay outside those boundaries?”

“For one thing, the monsters don’t always stay within their borders,” said Aluanna. “But more often the problem is hungry villagers who cross the borders desperate for some of the wheat.”

At the mention of the word “wheat” Seth’s heart gave a great leap, and he became so inexplicably excited that he nearly fell off of his stool. “What wheat?!” he asked, far more loudly than he intended. Everyone, even Toj, all turned and stared at Seth. His face immediately turned bright red and hot.

“Sorry,” Seth stammered, “it’s just that I think the wheat may be important for some reason. Can you tell me more about it?”

Aluanna stared at Seth for a moment, and he had the impression she was trying to decide something, as if he had something strange on his face and she was wracking her brain to figure out what it was. She leaned closer towards him, but the look of puzzlement on her face only became more pronounced.

“Um…” Seth wished he could just disappear as his face reached temperatures he never believed possible, “Please?”

Aluanna quickly shook her head and leaned sat up again. “There is a kind of wild wheat plant that grows only here within the borders of Vdekshi’s domain,” she said. “It’s actually something of a weed, to be perfectly honest. But it makes a delicious flour, and to people who are starving, a weed you can eat tastes as good as any other food. When I first learned that it only grew here I thought it must have been some wicked bait invented by Vdekshi, but my mother told me the wheat was here long before he was.”

“Then where does it come from?” Seth asked eagerly.

“The ground,” said Toj as he continued playing. Aluanna shot him a reproachful look, but Toj obviously felt the joke was worth a quick glare.

“I’ve never heard anyone explain how the wheat came here,” said Aluanna. “It grows all over, but I’ve heard that most of it grows in a large field on the other side of Vdekshi’s fortress. The field is never harvested. Not even the poorest and most desperate would dare go so far into the necromancer’s territory. Most of them just come in a little way, like we are now, and pick whatever handfuls of wheat they can find.”

The more Aluanna spoke, the more excited Seth became. There was definitely something about that wheat that he was being led to. Something he was supposed to do. “Tarun, Shon,” he said, “we need to get to that field. We need to… to reclaim that wheat.”

To Seth’s relief, the look on Tarun’s face was not annoyance, but interest. “How do you believe this wheat will help us defeat Vdekshi?” Tarun asked.

“I’m not sure,” Seth said, “but…” Seth trailed off as a thought entered into his mind. He thought of a question that seemed somehow familiar, though Seth couldn’t guess why. “Have any of you heard of ‘The Sword of Wheat’ before?”

“How in the world would you make a sword out of wheat?” asked Shon incredulously. “And what would you do with it after making it? Throw it at Vdekshi and hope he’s allergic?”

“Well no,” Seth began to say. But even as he tried to think of a reply, it occurred to him just how strange his question had sounded. “I didn’t mean like that. I just meant, well…”

“I’ve heard of the Sword of Wheat,” Aluanna said, interrupting Seth’s stammering. The relief he felt at hearing her speak those words made his heart leap.

“You have?” he asked. “Where?”

“Well, I don’t know if it’s the same thing you’re talking about,” she said, “but ‘The Sword of Wheat’ is the name of an old legend in this region. I heard it once when I was a child.”

“Can you tell it to me?” Seth pleaded.

“As I said, I heard it once when I was a child,” Aluanna replied apologetically. “I don’t remember much, but I don’t think the sword in the story is made of wheat.” Seeing how crestfallen Seth became, she added, “But perhaps I can ask the different storytellers about it when we travel back to the towns soon.”

“Why are you going back to the towns?” Tarun asked.

“It’s raining,” Aluanna said simply.

“Your band only travels in fair weather?” Tarun asked.

“Some do,” said Aluanna. “That’s why I needed to talk with you now. Many in my band will wish to return to their homes now that the rain has begun, and I need to ensure they reach those homes safely. A few will come with us to take their place, but not as many.”

“That’s why I wanted to speak with you,” she continued. “Those in my band believe in me and believe in the power of my magic. My magic strengthens them, and their faith in me in turn strengthens my magic. But we are not winning this fight, and every night I fear the time will come when I can no longer protect them the way I’ve promised. I’ve protected this land before I was even a woman, but I cannot do it alone anymore.”

Seth jumped to his feet so suddenly that everyone in the tent stared again. But this time he did not blush at their stares. It was his heart, rather than his face, that was now burning. “Lady Aluanna,” he said boldly, “go and see if you can discover the story of the Sword of Wheat. I will go and find the field of wheat on the other side of Vdekshi’s fortress.”

Turning to the others he said, “Tarun, if you truly wish to defeat Vdekshi, then I implore you and Shon to come with me.”

“Lady, you said that you rely on the faith of your followers,” Seth said, turning to Aluanna again. “Now I’m asking you to have faith in me, and in the Ancient One who sent me. I ask that once you learn the story of the Sword of Wheat, you and your band will come find us at the field. I know I ask much for you to venture so far into the enemy’s territory, but I promise to deliver the hope you are looking for.”

Aluanna was taken aback by Seth’s sudden and dramatic vow, and she looked to Tarun and Shon to see if they had anything else to add.

“Of course we will go with you,” said Tarun, rising to his feet and clapping Seth on the back. “And together we will find the secret to defeating Vdekshi.”

Shon stood up as well, wiping his hands on his trousers once again. “Better than just wandering around in the rain, I suppose,” he said. Then he looked down at his feet and quietly added, “As long as I don’t lose a boot in some muddy field.”

 

Aluanna awoke at dawn the next morning, as she did nearly every day of her life. It seemed somehow wrong to her to allow the sun to rise without her greeting it. She had only had a few hours of sleep the night before, but her mind was alert, and her senses clear. As usual, she would find time to clear away the rest of her weariness later in the day with a late afternoon nap. It was a habit she had inherited from her mother.

Though Aluanna had stayed awake long into the night, she knew she had retired much earlier than the majority of her band. The satyr triplets in particular always stayed awake nearly the entire night, playing their music to keep the dark forces of the forest away. She was grateful for their cheerfulness and strength, but she wondered if anyone in the band knew just how tenuous and fragile their hold on the forest really was.

Her band was loyal, but their numbers were not great. Members of her band came and went as they pleased. None were obligated to stay indefinitely, and many would come and go depending on the season, individual needs, or just on personal whims. In the last couple of years, her band had never been smaller than twenty musicians, but it also never grew much larger than fifty members at one time. How many henchmen did the enemy have at his disposal? A hundred? A thousand? It was impossible to know for sure, but Aluanna was certain that she and her loyal followers were far outmatched.

So why hadn’t they been wiped out already? Did the enemy really fear some kind of power she possessed? Or was he just playing with her because he knew he could finish them off whenever he wanted? Whatever the answer, Aluanna told herself that she had to remain confident and strong in front of the others. If any of them guessed at the fear she kept to herself, the entire band would fall apart overnight. And she was certain that her woods would be far worse off if that happened.

Aluanna looked across the clearing and saw the tall dark-skinned man her band had rescued the night before. He was one of the few people also awake already, and although he was obviously still exhausted from his encounter with the vampire, his back was straight and his expression was determined. There was something about his countenance that gave her pause, though she couldn’t quite place what it was.

Huddled in a large sleeping bag near the ashes of the campfire was the pale, bald young man that had also encountered Laronius. He was so pale and cold when they found him that she was surprised he had survived the experience. As Aluanna watched him sleep, she noticed with some puzzlement that he slept in his sleeping bag with his traveling cloak still on, and the hood pulled up over his head. Perhaps it was the only way to keep such a bald head warm in the night?

It was clear to Aluanna that the young man had powerful magic within him. One of her gifts was that she had always been able to sense the magic in others. She considered the talent a gift from her father, and it was one of the ways she had been able to gather together a band such as hers, where so many had unique gifts to contribute, like the satyr triplets. Aluanna suspected that the young man had little understanding of how to use his magic, but his potential was unmistakable.

And then there was the other man that had been with them. The one with light brown hair and eager eyes like a wolf pup. Aluanna didn’t know what to think of him at all. His story was unbelievable, but his every word was so sincere it was heartbreaking. He certainly didn’t have the confidence and strength of his dark-skinned friend, yet he seemed every bit as determined. He was not self-assured, but he was sure of… something. More than once when Aluanna had been falling asleep, she had asked herself what could drive him this way if his story wasn’t authentic.

Even stranger than the man’s demeanor was the curious sensation Aluanna had experienced while feeling the magic surrounding him.

Aluanna had always struggled to describe to others what it was like to sense magic in others. They always wanted her to describe it in terms of sights or sounds or physical touch, but that was about as useful as trying to explain the color of an itch or the sound of bitterness. The closest she could come to helping others understand was comparing it to the undefinable sensations one felt in different weather.

Most people felt like a calm overcast day, like there was nothing out of the ordinary to notice. Those with powerful magic, like the bald young man, made Aluanna’s breath shift rhythm and her skin tingle just below the surface, as if a thunderstorm was approaching. But the man with brown hair was different. Sensing him felt like there was some strange, clear pull coming from somewhere not quite behind her and moving upwards, like standing on a high, wind-swept mountain where the air just seems to disappear above you.

Aluanna didn’t believe everything he had said the night before about his quest and who it came from, but she couldn’t deny that there were things about him that left her intuition abnormally unsure.

Who were these three men? What were they really doing here in a forest plagued with the supernatural, and why hadn’t they been killed by Laronius? Others had come along in the past who would join her band and take up her fight against the necromancer, but ultimately they merely added to the strength of her fight. She knew that if she fell or gave up, the rest of the band would leave the fight within days.

These three seemed to bring a new fight all their own. The thought that there were others who could make a difference if she were gone was both a relief, and a concern. She did not know these men, and they did not answer to her, and even if their intentions were good, their disruption could shatter the semblance of balance she had fought so hard to maintain.

Aluanna was pulled from her thoughts as she heard the patter of raindrops on leaves a moment before the drops made their way to the forest floor. As quickly as dignity would allow her, she hurried back to her tent to put on her hooded traveling cloak. She may be attuned to nature as the Lord of the Forest’s daughter, but that didn’t make her immune to wet hair.

***

“Where’d this awful rain come from?” Shon spluttered as he tried to wipe large droplets from the top of his bald head. He was still recovering from the rather rude awakening of water falling on his face, followed by stepping in a puddle in his rush to stand up and put his boots on.

“I think it usually comes from the sky, Sir Soggy Socks,” said Roj, and the short satyr bleated a loud laugh.

Shon fumed at the sarcastic remark, but suppressed an angry retort that could cost him his spot under the canopy that some of Aluanna’s band had quickly assembled to stay dry. It was clear to Shon that many of the others standing under the canvas covering were feeling frustrated about the unexpected rain, but none of them had gotten nearly as upset as he had. After taking a moment to calm down, Shon said, “What I mean is, I didn’t even see any clouds last night. How could a rain storm just start up out of nowhere?”

“I would hardly call this a storm,” said Soj as he tipped his tall head under the canopy to join them. “This is just a normal early autumn shower. It may have come along a couple weeks before we expected, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary. And I suspect we’ll be seeing a lot more of them in the next several months.”

“Several months?” moaned Shon. “How many months can rain keep going for?” The prospect of rain continually pouring from the sky nonstop for months on end filled Shon with a dread hopelessness that seemed to suck all the heat and happiness right out of him, right through the bottom of his wet foot.

As if sensing this, Roj spoke up again. “Relax, Sir Soggy Socks. My brother doesn’t mean you’ll never see a dry day again until spring. He just means you ought’a get used to it because a lot more rainy days are on their way.

Just then, Tarun and Seth stepped under the canopy and out of the rain. “We got the flaps all tied down on the wagon,” said Seth, “but I’m afraid quite a bit of water got in already, and most of your clothes got wet.”

“Well that’s just great!” shouted Shon. Panic started to set in as he wondered if he would ever feel warm and dry again. “And who asked you to go messing with our tent anyway?”

“I did,” said Tarun. “It would’ve taken a lot longer with only one person doing it, and it would have gone even quicker if there had been three.”

Shon felt his face go hot red as Tarun’s words sunk in. Shon had been so frantic about finding shelter when he woke up that he didn’t even think to go help Tarun with the wagon and their supplies.

Then he remembered something, and he smacked himself on the forehead in supreme embarrassment and frustration. “Oh no! I forgot to pick up my sleeping bag. It’s still lying in the mud!!”

“I, uh, noticed that,” Seth said quietly. “I grabbed it and threw it into the wagon before we started tying it down.”

“Oh,” said Shon. “Thanks.”

For a while, everyone was quiet around them, and the only sound was the raindrops hitting the canvas above them. Shon turned to Seth to apologize, but he never got the chance to start. Toj had just walked under the canopy and he was looking much more serious than his two brothers. The satyr gestured to Shon, Tarun, and Seth and made a jerking motion with his horned head.

“You three had better come with me,” said Toj. “Lady Aluanna would like a word with you.”