Bird poked his head outside the tiny hut. Overnight rain had soaked the surrounding area. The clean smell of fresh pine accompanied the muted pitter-patter of water dripping from the trees. The Verdant Blades were gone. I hope the rain hasn’t washed away the trail.

  Rousing the others, the tabby stepped outside. Prodding his booted toe into the remains of the fire, he padded across the small clearing and untethered the horses. He stretched and shook the kinks from his arms and legs. Ouch. His ribs still ached where the demon had caught him during the fight. The cat undid his jerkin, peeling back the leather for a closer inspection as Lunish and Glynfir emerged from the hut.

  “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before,” she said to the wizard over her shoulder. “With only two of us, I can wild shape into a horse. We can ride with the others instead of walking.”

  “I like it! We'll get there much faster, and my shoes will stay dry!” The wizard furrowed his brow. “But I’m not very good with animals, Lulu. I’ve never ridden a horse…”

  “It’s not a horse, you idiot, it’s me! I will understand everything you say, and I promise not to throw you off.” Turning to face Bird, the gnome immediately noticed the wound.” Ooh, that looks nasty! Let me take a look.” Her tone signaled more demand than request. Bird slipped the jerkin off his shoulder and raised his arm. “Why didn’t you say anything yesterday?” she scolded him. “Macho male bullshit…?”

  “Honestly, I felt like you just had a lot going on, and I didn’t want to add to it.”

  Lunish tilted her head, eyebrows raised, nodding in acquiescence as her tone softened. “Not gonna lie, yesterday was not one of my best days. You’re forgiven this time, but in the future, don’t hide your injuries! Anywhere else?” The cat turned to expose the burns on his leg. “Mmm-hmm... may I?” She looked up at him expectantly.

  “Please!” he nodded. The green energy crackled to life, and the gnome placed one glowing hand on each wound. Bird felt the warmth of the magic coursing through his body, forcing a chuckling purr from his lips. The pain vanished as he watched the wounds heal and disappear. Just like that, the swordsman’s sins are cleansed! “Thanks, Lunish!”

  “You’re welcome. Next time, don’t keep it to yourself!”

  Whydah stepped out of the translucent hut. Instantly, the magical construct began to disintegrate just as it had materialized. A white spark sprang to life at the dome’s apex, slowly spiraling downward. Like a burning fuse, it consumed the hut’s exterior until it reached the ground, scuttled across the forest floor, and disappeared with a pop. She looked at Bird.

  “We should get going if we want to make the abbey by midday.”

  “Did you hear?” Glynfir asked smugly. “We’re going to be riding with you now. Well, I’ll be riding Lulu...” before quickly adding “…as a horse.”

  The flush of embarrassment tinted his cheeks. Lunish shot him a withering glance as Whydah laughed out loud, dropping her pack next to her mount.

  “Yes, I heard!” She patted the animal’s flank and gathered up the reins.

  Lunish, shouldering her pack, separated herself from the others to make some room for her pending change. “Are we ready? Remember, you can talk to me normally. I can understand everything. I just can’t speak.”

  The wizard looked her up and down. “What about your clothes and your gear?”

  “Everything I’m wearing and carrying is part of the transformation.” She shrugged. “I don’t know where it goes, exactly.”

  Lunish closed her eyes. In a flash of green, her form shifted into a sorrel mare, complete with two long red braids woven into her mane.

  With some difficulty, Bird helped the wizard onto her back before lifting Whydah into the saddle. Mounting his steed, the cat took the lead, and the three riders set off north.

  The road rose steadily before them. Even in midsummer, the mountain tops sported white peaks of snow above gray and black stone before transitioning to a bristle of green foliage. On their right, the Shand was fast and dirty. The evening’s rain and runoff from the Glimmerstones had swollen its headwaters. The banks struggled to contain the flow, leaving the nearby ground saturated and soft. The horses’ hooves cast off muddy clods as the trio cantered through the foothills, alternating their speed to preserve the animals.

  The spire of the Luminarium rose into view on the horizon just before midday. The closer they got, the starker its visage. Black scorch marks dappled the grey stone around every window and door. Recent rain had washed the smoky residue toward the ground in streaky rivulets. From afar, the entire abbey was weeping tears of soot from every orifice. Behind the courtyard’s closed iron gate, a lone figure stood leaning on a staff, intently observing their approach. Slowing the horse to a walk over the final half mile, the riders watched as the figure, a white-haired elven woman, pulled on a nearby rope. The peal of an iron bell rang out across the meadows, echoing among the nearby peaks before trailing off. Within moments, several more monks, somewhat disheveled and dressed in dirty white robes, assembled tensely behind the sentry. All armed with staves, their faces reflected a mix of weariness, tension, grief, and resolve.

  “State your business!” she called out tersely, raising her staff as they drew within fifty yards of the gate. Bird, still in the lead, stopped his horse and dismounted as he began the parley.

  “We are no threat to you or the order. We are old friends of—”

  “Whiskers! Tiny!” Tsuta elbowed his way through the small group of monks to stand beside the woman Bird now recognized as a drow. “It’s OK, Pinky,” was all he said before throwing open the gate and swallowing the tabby in a bear hug.

  “Hello, Stick! It’s good to see you!” was all the cat managed to get out before being smothered in the embrace.

  Unconvinced, the rest of the abbey held its collective ground, wary of the newcomers and grimly poised for action. The bald elf looked back at the courtyard with a puzzled look, finally recognizing the distrust.

  “Everyone, these are the adventurers I told you about. I’ve trusted them with my life more times than I can count! You have nothing to fear here!”

  The tension level among the abbey’s inhabitants receded as Tsuta moved to Whydah’s horse, plucked her off its back, and twirled her around in a similar hug. She rubbed his bald head affectionately in return.

  “Hello, Tsuta, I’m so glad you’re safe!”

  “What in Gond’s name are you two doing here?”

  Whydah answered first, “We were in the area and heard about the fire. The name rang a bell, so we came to help.”

  “We also picked up some reinforcements along the way.” Bird stepped to the side, waving his arm toward the unannounced members of their little group. “This is Glynfir and Lunish.” As all eyes turned to them, the wizard, attempting a solo dismount, promptly tumbled from Lunish’s back, landing face down in the wet grass with a groan. Now free of her rider, the druid shifted back to her gnomish form in a flourish of green energy.

  She raised her hand in greeting to the silent onlookers.

  “Hi, everyone!”

  Over the next hour and a modest meal, introductions were made. The two groups shared information about recent encounters with the Sklir, their origin, preferred battle tactics, and the ongoing tracking activities of the Verdant Blades. As they sat around the two remaining long tables in the abbey’s mess, Sifu Haft, having been silent through most of the discussion thus far, stood. Taking their cue from the deferential locals, the four newcomers gave him their attention.

  “Let’s summarize what we know,” he began, standing officially at the head of the seated group. “For reasons unknown, the Luminarium was attacked by four of these creatures we now know to be demons.” The diminutive master, carefully organizing his thoughts, started pacing back and forth in front of the tables. His head bowed, he idly stroked his bushy mustache. “After leaving the abbey, the two surviving Sklir waited along the access road to ambush any assistance or reinforcements.” He paused. Only the crackle of the fire broke the silence. “As these demons are not native to this plane of existence…” He raised a single finger into the air. “…we believe that powerful magic was used to deposit them on our doorstep, destroying two of our beacons in the process.”

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  A voice spoke from the doorway.

  “Did you say two beacons?”

  All heads turned, startled to see Segwyn, flanked by the rest of the Blades, standing in the doorway. Several of the monks rose immediately in alarm, reaching for their staves. Sifu Haft, recognizing the uniforms of the recent arrivals, raised both hands, palms up, stilling their movement.

  “Master Segwyn of the Verdant Blades, I presume?”

  The ranger nodded, leaning into a forearm grasp with Bird, who had casually risen from his seat to greet the new arrivals.

  “Apologies if we startled anyone, but you really should post a guard in the courtyard, under the current circumstances.”

  Annoyed at having his momentary lapse in security highlighted, Haft nodded briskly, dismissing the remark with a wave of his hand.

  “Yes, yes. I made a short exception for the debriefing. Please join us. You were asking about the beacons?” He waved his hand towards the tables.

  Segwyn turned to the team, whispering a few quiet words before one of the members returned to the courtyard, presumably to stand watch. Quiet handshakes and nods of introduction were exchanged, and space was made to accommodate everyone. Bird and Lunish gave up their seats, opting to stand. The tabby casually leaned back against the fireplace wall, arms crossed, as he listened.

  “I thought I heard you say two of the beacons were destroyed…”

  “That’s right, the central and southern outposts. Iskvold and Tsuta,” Haft gestured towards the seated monks, “were at the Northern beacon and saw nothing.”

  The ranger pursed his lips and furrowed his brow, directing his next question to the identified monks.

  “How long after the initial attack were you still at the outpost?”

  Tsuta thought for a moment. “It was at least a couple of hours. Maybe three at most, before Usha turned up.” He looked at the dwarven acolyte, who nodded in confirmation. “Why?”

  Segwyn lifted his finger, connecting invisible locations in the air as he spoke.

  “We tracked the two demons from the riverside back to your front door very early this morning.” He added a second finger to demonstrate a split path. “We found four sets of prints here and followed them back to the two outposts. They both showed tracks leaving the beacon, but none ascending.”

  Sifu Haft interrupted, a measure of impatience evident in his voice.

  “Okay. That’s consistent with our belief that they were brought to the beacons magically…”

  The ranger nodded, holding up his hand as he puzzled through the details in his mind.

  “Right… but then we carried on to the northern outpost, just to be thorough, and we found tracks from two more. They appeared out of thin air, below the plateau, and travelled up and down from the outpost before heading west through the Gap.”

  He raised his head, shifting his gaze around the room. “If the northern outpost wasn’t destroyed before, it certainly is now.”

  The room was momentarily silent before Iskvold’s spine straightened, and her eyes went wide.

  “That means they deliberately came back, after the attack, to destroy the last beacon… but why?”

  Segwyn pointed his finger repetitively toward her, nodding in agreement. Bird pressed himself off the wall into a standing position and opened his mouth, but the Glynfir spoke first.

  “What if the abbey wasn’t the primary target?”

  He said the words very quietly, anticipating the chorus of objection that immediately rose from the monks around the table.

  Haft’s face flushed, spittle flying from the corners of his mouth, his speech rushed and ragged.

  “They killed twenty-one of our order, that we still haven’t been able to bury, and burned everything we had!”

  The cat, with a smirk of impressed acknowledgement to Glynfir, jumped to the wizard’s defense. He raised both hands in a calming gesture as he stood before the fireplace, his shadow flickering long across the table’s surface.

  “It doesn’t make what happened here any less horrific to consider a different motivation. Let’s hear him out.” This successfully brought the room back to a more rational position.

  Glynfir cleared his throat before continuing, his voice stronger. “We’ve been assuming that they were after something in the Vault. If that were true, they would have come back here with additional forces …but they didn’t.”

  Lunish, silent until this point in the conversation, picked up the logic.

  “Instead, they went back to destroy the only remaining beacon in the area.”

  “Exactly!” Glynfir turned to Segwyn. “You said that demons have no regard for life of any kind, right?”

  The ranger nodded. “More than that—they despise it.”

  “So, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill everyone associated with these outposts if it served their main objective—”

  Tsuta finished the sentence “making sure the beacons were inoperable.”

  Sifu Haft, his face no longer flushed, spread his arms.

  “But we still come back to, why? Why only these beacons?”

  Segwyn shrugged and raised his eyebrows. “Invasion. If I were planning a significant military operation, I would take out the early warning system first to buy my army time before they met resistance.”

  Whydah shook her head. “But it’s been two days. You wouldn’t wait, would you?”

  “No,” the ranger admitted, “I would attack immediately, as soon as the beacons were down.”

  “There is another possibility...” The whole room waited as the halfling paused. “What if there was something you needed to do in that specific area, something important, something you didn’t want interrupted?” Seeing confused looks around the table, she explained further. “If there are no watchers and no flares, then you would have no interruptions, right?”

  Quiet muttering signaled a degree of agreement before Sifu Haft summed up the conversation.

  “So, we believe that someone or something that can command demons—and bring them to this plane—is up to no good just across the border.”

  “Is there anyone we can tell?” Lunish asked, turning to Segwyn. “Can you bring more troops?”

  The ranger shook his head. “Not quickly. It’s more than a day’s ride to the closest Shan outpost, and Eredmire doesn’t have the numbers.” He looked around the table. “Like it or not, the only forces capable of intervening in the next few days are sitting in this room.”

  This time, Iskvold felt it coming. The simple statement triggered an emotional barrage—grief, guilt, and powerlessness. Her heart raced. Tears rolled down her cheeks as her hands balled tightly into fists. She started to shake. And there it was, deep within her gut, the white-hot, all-consuming rage. As the fury swallowed her, she launched herself upright, slapping the tabletop with both hands. Eyes flashing, facial features twisted into a snarl, her voice boomed.

  “Whoever did this must pay for the pain they caused, the lives they took. Justice will be served. I will take it from their wretched hides, even if I have to go alone!” She looked at Tsuta expectantly, her chest heaving like she had just run for miles.

  A stunned silence fell over the room. Even the unflappable bald monk was taken aback by her sudden and uncharacteristic outburst. He hesitated only momentarily before rising and giving her a single nod. His brow furrowed in concern, Tsuta raised his hand to her shoulder.

  “Are you okay, Pinky?”

  She shrugged him off.

  “No, I’m not okay! This is not okay! We have to go after them!”

  “And we will.” His tone was level and calm as he looked at Bird and Whydah, eyebrows raised in silent question. The tabby’s yellow eyes narrowed in apprehension as he assessed what he’d just witnessed from the drow. Making up his mind, the cat glanced at his halfling companion, her single, slow blink telling him all he needed to know. His outward grin returned.

  “We’re with you, Stick.” He crossed the floor before clasping a hand onto his friend’s shoulder. “Someone has to make the bad choices so you don’t have to!”

  Segwyn stepped forward. “The Blades are needed back in Eredmire, but I’ll come, if you’ll have me?” Nods and verbal affirmations around the room answered his question.

  “What about you, Sifu?” Iskvold asked the abbey’s master. The older man hesitated, choosing his words carefully. A wistful look of disappointment crossed his face.

  “Unfortunately, I don’t think these old hips could handle the terrain. I would only slow you down. Plus, there’s a lot of work to be done here with the initiates and the abbey…”

  The drow, settling herself with a deep breath, nodded in understanding.

  The room’s attention turned to the wizard and druid. Glynfir looked at Lunish, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

  “What do you think, Lulu? It’s up to you. Where you go, I go.”

  The gnome wrung her hands while Whydah offered some encouragement.

  “We could really use your skills out there.”

  “I’m not so sure about that…” Lunish whispered, almost to herself. “… I’m terrified and completely torn right now.” Her eyes darted around the room. “We barely survived against only two of those things—Grym didn’t… and you want to go after them?” She bowed her head before continuing, her voice cracking. “Part of me feels like I owe it to him, but the other part wants to run as fast as possible in the other direction.”

  The druid shook her head, still looking at the floor. “I totally understand the need to stop whatever’s going on over there, but I’m no demon hunter!” She raised her head to the room. “What makes you think we have a chance of surviving, let alone succeeding?” Her words trailed off into silence until Segwyn took a step forward, his lips pursed. After a moment of consideration, he spoke.

  “As in life, there is no certainty, unfortunately. We don’t even know what we’re truly up against. None of us asked for this, and our reasons for going vary.” He nodded at different members of the group as he ran down the list, “Revenge. Justice. Loyalty to a friend, or in my case…” he raised one hand to his chest and let out a deep breath. “A sense of duty to my home and my people. I am compelled to try because I know—in here,” he tapped his fingers over his heart, “that based on recent events, whatever is happening over there is significant. I have no doubt the threat will get far worse left unchecked.”

  The ranger fixed his gaze firmly on Lunish. “We are all worried and uncomfortable, believe me, and only you can decide if your courage and motivations are strong enough to overcome that and join us.”

  He paused, turning his gaze to address the entire room, “I believe that if we don’t stand up, we don’t stand a chance.”

  The gnome let his words hang in silence, gazing at the floor for several moments before raising her head towards Glynfir. The wizard gave her a supportive smile. Finally, she spoke.

  “Okay, we’ll come…but just in case we don’t make it back, there’s someone I need to see first.”

  The Glimmerstone Enigma?

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