Neb and Zartro the Tenth were having a long talk.

  “I can’t believe you’re here! Color me green and call me a swamp, man this is insane, dude!” exclaimed Zartro.

  Neb stared. “You’re just as crazy as Zartro was.”

  The Tenth grinned. “Like yeah! If a sane Atakalan was runnin’ this country, we’d be just like every other nation! It’s more creative this way. Keeps us on the forefront of everything, ya know?”

  Neb didn’t know, but figured things would sort themselves out eventually. “Tell me more about this new stone. How did you find it?”

  “It’s random, man! Or, should I call you gramps? Ha! Anyways, I was goin’ for a random walk, you know. Checking out the jungle, looking for new sights, and I thought, Well, I’ve never been THIS way. So I’m wandering around the jungle where I've never been, halfway between here and Khandou, and I find this huge tree. Naturally, of course, I’ve got to climb it–I mean, what’s a tree if no one climbs it? And I got to the top, and wow! What a view. I could see clear to Lake Nura; saw smoke rising from Khandou and everything. But anyway, I got down outta that tree, and started heading back to Tsyanou, when I stumbled upon this massive red rock lying on the path. It was freaky, dude. So many people have found the Files, but I never thought I would find one. Since that day, our relations with the Arush have suffered.”

  Neb looked over the suspect stone on the wall. It seemed innocuous enough. “Why would the Arush be so upset about another redbrick? I saw almost a hundred of these in Sentinel City.”

  “Most of the text is more of the usual… instructions, advice, diagrams… the bricks contain stuff about everything from farming to diplomacy to geometry. It's just this little bit down… here.” Zartro pointed to a tiny line tucked into the bottom margin of the brick’s face. “The Arush are pretty upset about this part at the bottom. It has nothing to do with the rest of the text, almost like it was an afterthought.”

  “What does it say?”

  “It says: Incidentally, Oort Peak is an active volcano. It is going to erupt sometime after the third moon of the 795th year after the Chief Kuma's Fall. Please evacuate Oortou, etc.”

  “Oortou… that's the chief village of the Arush. Or at least it was, when I lived here.”

  “It’s always been their chief village. That’s why they're so upset. They think this is part of an elaborate plan to force their tribe to join Atakala. Up until now, they've spurned our technological advances, choosing to keep their traditional ways. And they refuse to take part in any sort of treaty or alliance with the other tribes. We've sent numerous delegates, offering them protection and wealth if they join us, but the few diplomats that returned to Tsyanou alive came back looking like a prehistoric exhibit of a goose caught in a tar pit.”

  “Why can’t they just evacuate Oortou to be safe?”

  “They think we’re gonna come take it over; that this whole thing is a ruse to get them to clear out.”

  “Would the Atakalans do such a thing?”

  “Of course not! There are other tribes that are still independent–all are free to choose their own way, although we’d love to see them join us. But the Arush don’t believe us. Oortou lies between us and the other independent tribes, so they think we’re trying to take it over as the first step to overrunning them all.”

  “Can't they see you are only trying to help? I’d want to know if a volcano was about to destroy my home.”

  “Maybe, except that Oort Peak is not a volcano. As far as we know, it has never erupted. It's just another mountain in the line between us and the southern tribes.”

  “So they're staying put.”

  “Yep. Tomorrow is dah third moon… it’s only a matter of time before we find out whether the stone is right. Personally, I hope the Arush are correct in their skepticism, ‘cause I would hate to see their chief village wiped out. I'm sure they’d just blame us for it, saying we created the volcano or something.”

  “Have the stones ever been wrong?”

  “No stone ain’t been wrong as far as I’ve seen.”

  “That seems impossible. But then again, the far-fetched stone I found was correct.” Neb envisioned the Roman army marching toward Sentinel City so many years ago, yet still fresh in his memory.

  “Ha. Sure.” Zartro chuckled. He didn’t believe Neb's story at all… no one could have lain in a jungle for almost three centuries. He doesn’t seem to want anything, Zartro noted, so he’s probably just insane. No worries, though. I’m a little insane, myself. Zartro smiled.

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  At that moment, two men rushed into the great hall. The first was Joao, the cabinetmaker. Following him was Corran, Zartro's adviser.

  “Great Zartro!” Joao shouted as he approached.

  “Joao! What are you doin’ here?” Zartro hurried to greet him, ignoring his adviser whom he saw all too often. “Neb, this is Joao, lead technician for the Atakalan Army. He specializes in gifts for enemies. He’s a descendant of your buddy Jaw, you might be interested to know. Joao, this is Neb. From Sentinel City.”

  “I'm from Baddig, actually,” said Neb. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Baddig, eh?” stated Joao. “I have never been there. My dwelling is in the jungle northwest of Oklagut, just across Sped Swamp from Baddig.”

  “Close buddies then, and I mean spatially, not temporally,” grinned Zartro. “Now Joao… what is the big news that you rush in here unannounced?”

  “Something truly extraordinary has occurred, beyond perhaps even your own famed imagination. A strange object has, er, appeared, in the jungle north of my hut. It is unlike anything I have ever seen. You and your aides must come and examine it. It was accompanied by strange visitors and a great fire; I fear something very ill has trespassed into our land.”

  Zartro turned to Corran. “Sounds important to me. What do you think?”

  “There have been rumors of a mighty doom falling upon the remote villages of the Atakora Plateau, but no certain news nor sound explanation. If Joao's discovery is related to this strange murmuring, it would be of infinite benefit to investigate.”

  “Well then, gather our top scientists, our brightest engineers, and our strongest guards. But if it's nothin', I'm coming back for a nice, long nap.”

  * * * * * * * *

  Hans pulled his vehicraft into the driveway and shut off the lights. The sun Myria had dropped behind the Etani Cliffs, leaving Talmyn in darkness. Hans wished he’d been able to buy a weapon… the darkness reminded him of the previous night's encounter with a rabadon. He collected his green chair from the passenger seat and turned to survey his house. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he grew uneasy. Hadn’t he made a point to leave the kitchen light on when he’d left? He walked to the front door and received another surprise. It was hanging open, the wooden door swaying from side to side–even though the air was deathly still, a breeze nonexistent.

  Hans cautiously approached the dark entrance, carrying his newly acquired chair in front of him like a shield. Stepping into the kitchen, he pushed a button on the wall, but nothing happened. Apparently the kitchen light had gone out for good.

  He slowly walked through the room until one of the legs on the green chair hit something. He put out his free hand, detected the wall, and felt around for the corner. Taking a step left, he made his way into the hall and slid his arm along the wall until he found a button. He hit it, and his heart skipped a beat as the hall flooded with light… but it was empty. He turned to inspect the kitchen; nothing was out of place.

  Hans then made his way tentatively down the hall, taking one step at a time and pausing to listen after each footfall. After only three steps, he froze–there was a crashing noise from one of the dark rooms ahead, followed by dead silence. He rotated the chair, holding out the legs like spears, and moved forward once more.

  Swinging open the first door he came to, he quickly punched the light switch and scanned the room. Everything was in place. Moving on, he checked each room in the same manner, his body trembling more and more as the number of rooms left unchecked diminished. Finally, he stood before his office at the far end of the hall. The door was pushed shut. He slowly reached for the metal handle and gave it a cautious turn. The metal was cold from the nighttime air that had flooded the house.

  As he was pushing open the door, the hallway light went out. Hans swirled around in terror, leaving the office door open behind him. At the other end of the hallway near the light switch: there it was! The light from the office dimly illuminated the strange creature staring back at Hans. It was about half Hans’ height, thin and bony, with an unusually large head covered in scraggly strands of hair. The creature stepped toward Hans, who responded by backing into the door behind him. As the creature passed an open door, orange light reflected off its eyes.

  Orange? Aren't rabadons' eyes yellow? And, where’s the horn? Every rabadon has a horn. What is this creature that has broken into my house? “Stop!” shouted Hans. “Get out of here!”

  The creature froze, tilting its head as if confused, and then spoke softly. “Is V’han.”

  Understanding swept over Hans. The creature was not the rabadon of last night. It was another species, equal in intelligence, but opposite in fierceness. Some great event had roused a V’hogel out of the mountains and into Talmyn, randomly entering Hans’ house. Hans had never seen a V'hogel in person; it had been years since he'd even seen a newscast about one. V’hogle had an almost mythical status on Shamonj. They were seldom seen, living timid lives high in the mountains far from Sheeple. Every once in a while, however, a V'hogel would come down from the hills to join society, typically just before a significant event such as a war or natural disaster. Oddly, instead of being associated with evil and trouble, as the rabadons were, they were seen as messengers or helpers. V'hogle spoke broken Shamonjian and could reason, though they were not classified as intelligent beings in the same sense as Sheeple. Perhaps the strangest thing about them was when they joined Sheeple society. Whether it was instinctual or a free choice was unclear, but a V'hogel entering society singled out a Sheepel and adopted him or her as its 'owner'. The V'hogel would obey this and only this Sheepel for the remainder of their life. Hans had never given much thought to their kind, but now recalled hearing that only about a thousand Sheeple on all of Shamonj had a “pet” V’hogel.

  “Is V'han,” repeated the V'hogel, pushing against the wall to steady itself as it approached. Apparently, it had bumped the light switch unintentionally.

  Hans understood its intention and realized the magnitude of his good fortune. The V’hogel was simply repeating its name, V’han, and it was ready to join Hans in Sheeple Society. Perhaps it followed the rabadon, and has come to comfort me, he mused.

  Hans knew now that he would never leave Talmyn. The rabadon was gone and unlikely to return to the same place in fear of a trap. And now, with a V'hogel to keep him company and his friend Zak not far away, the loneliness of being a Hake in an increasingly Sheek city would be bearable. While most others had fled the city, he had never wanted to leave his hometown. Now, the choice was easy. I can’t wait until Zak finds out! he thought eagerly as he rummaged through a cupboard for some fruit for V’han.

  He had no idea his life was about to dramatically change, and not because of the V’hogel.