Ember woke, but kept her eyes closed. Her head still pained her, but a hollow, deeper ache pulsed through her. Why? For a second, she could not remember. It lasted just that second, and when it passed, she wished she could call that precious moment back.

One thing was clear to her. If she was to survive, emotionally, she must harden her spirit. She must quiet her heart-loss, for now, to discover who was behind the atrocity.

Fainting damsels may be something commoners expect, but I will have no more of it, she mentally vowed.

Spurred by this thought, Ember drew her new resolve around her like a cloak, opened her eyes, and looked around.

Brek Gorunn had been busy—she must have lain unconscious for a few hours. The worst of the horror was cleared away so that she was not immediately faced with the sight of her slain compatriots. She owed the dwarf a debt of gratitude for that kindness. She lay on folded tapestries, apparently procured from a nearby wall by Brek. Near her, the captive ambusher lay securely trussed.

His mask was missing, and his face glared back at Ember with undisguised hate, but he said nothing.

Ember rose, called, "Brek?"

Hearing no answer for the moment, she approached the captive. He continued to glare.

Ember told him, "I suppose you know we intend to find out who you are. You might as well tell me now. Brek Gorunn, my dwarf friend, will not be so merciful as I."

Ember knew neither she nor Brek would stoop to the tactics of evil, but hoped the bluff would have some effect.

It did not. The man just glared.

Ember approached closer, thinking that perhaps she wasn't only bluffing after all.

"The pain you visited upon those here will be returned to you threefold if you do not speak, now!" she yelled, ending with all her volume.

The man's glare gave way to uncertainty. She had him. He knew that she was not the sort to make idle threats.

The captive opened his mouth, and she saw what she had not seen before. The man had no tongue. He would not tell her or anyone anything. Ember shook her head and moved away. She restrained herself from kicking him, though she wanted to desperately.

Instead she looked at the man and said, "You are not worth it. Do you know why? Because cruelty is a tool for the weak."

Looking around again, she called to Brek once more. This time the dwarf appeared from an antechamber, wiping his hands on another piece of shredded tapestry.

"Ember, I'm so sorry. I.. ."The dwarf was at a loss for words.

She shook her head. "Brek, if I am to get through this, mourning will follow after. Right now, we must get to the bottom of the attack. And he—" she pointed to the mute captive—"is useless."

Brek nodded. "He and his friends did seem awfully quiet when we were attacked, except for that one awful voice. Now we know why."

The monk pondered a moment then said, "The red masks' plans may not be limited to the Volanth chapter house of the Enabled Hland. The threat called out by that 'child' did not limit itself to only Volanth. My warning came too late, here, to my eternal shame. But there is something I can do to make up for that. I need to travel immediately to the Motherhouse of the Enabled Hand, to the root of our order. They must be warned. At the very least, I need to report what was done here. I owe that to Kairoth."

Brek raised an eyebrow. "Your old instructor?"

"Yes, him." In fact, Ember had received a letter from Kairoth only the day before. Ember carried Kairoth's letter in her satchel. She and her teacher had maintained friendly correspondence over the years. Kairoth was sa bum mm, an honored instructor in the Motherhouse. He sat with the elders of the Enabled Hand. In his letter, he wrote, among other things, about the recent Day of Fasting. "Kairoth will know what to do, if anyone."

The dwarf said, "You've told me stories about him. Anyhow, what about the local authorities—the Volanth Watch should be contacted."

Ember paused for a moment, then continued. "If we involve the Volanth Watch, valuable time will be lost. A day at least, as we testify to the magistrate—possibly a week. I need to be on the road today toward the Motherhouse in New Koratia. The elders must be warned. We can't spare time here."

"The city of New Koratia is a good distance," mused Brek Gorunn. "But of course the warning must be made. Allow me to join you on the road. After all, I was attacked by these red-masked men while I was in the employ of the order. Plus, Moradin's ire has been pricked," concluded the dwarf, his face grim.

Ember allowed herself a look of gratitude. "Then, let's gather what stories we can from the destruction here, and move out. I suppose I should retrieve the gems in the chapter house treasury and bring them to the Motherhouse."

Brek sighed. "Ember, the treasury is looted. I looked around while you lay asleep. The vault is open and empty."

The monk closed her eyes but said nothing. She mentally moved into the gunnun so gee posture, the walking stance, drawing calm from its strength.

"But," continued Brek, "I also found this. It explains much, while raising even more questions." He produced a small ring. It bore the insignia of a skull and sickle. "I recognize this symbol," Brek said. "It is the sign of the death god Nerull, called the Hater of Life, the Reaper of Flesh, and other more terrible names."

Ember looked up, startled. "But the last of Nerull's priests were unmasked and ejected from civilized lands years ago. How could this be?"

Brek nodded. "Nerull-worship was banned, yes, but banning something doesn't erase it. Especially Nerull. His is an evil that does not sleep. Nerull and those who revere him remain in the world, hidden, however much we comfort ourselves by thinking otherwise."

The dwarf squeezed the ring hard, and continued, "This ring proves that at least one of those who attacked the chapter, if not all, owe their allegiance to the Hater of Life. All the more reason to find out who they are and where they nest, so we can stamp them out."

"Very well," Ember sighed. "A banished cult has killed my chapter and looted the treasury. Still, there may be something they didn't get...something the order may need. It would do no good to leave anything of significance here."

So saying, Ember walked to the edge of the fountain.

The basin was carved from green-veined marble. In it stood a statue of a man carved from the same block of stone. He wore loose clothing, not unlike Ember's own dress, and stood in a ready stance, palms upward and slightly cupped. It was from his cupped hands that water spilled to splash into the wide basin.

Ember studied the fountain and said, "This is Loku, the founder of this chapter. He was a great warrior. The chapter honors him, as does the whole order. Did you know he once saved the Motherhouse from destruction? So say the histories. We keep no relics in the strict sense of the word, but we do treasure one of Loku's cast-off possessions. It was kept here, hidden in the fountain."

The monk walked into the basin. Bloody water splashed around her ankles. She knelt and reached into the murk, groping for a hidden mechanism.

"Ah, here it is."

Brek Gorunn, watching Ember, said, "Ember, there's something else you should know. It's about some of the monks' bodies I cleared away. A few were...melted. No, that's not the best word for it. They were dissolved, as if acid or some corrosive, alchemical mixture had been poured on them."

Ember did not pause in her activity, but her breath caught and her eyes narrowed. "Then, they shall pay all the more."

She didn't want to hear the dwarf's words, so she concentrated on finding the second catch to the secret vault in the fountain. A rush of bubbles marked her success. Ember extended her hand into the cavity below the waterline and yanked. With a click, two panels popped open in the arms of the sculpture. Inside each hidden recess lay a leather arm band. The bracers were pristine, and in fact seemed to glisten with a faint, golden light. The woman lifted the bracers out and held them up.

"These are Loku's Bracers. By taking them from this reliquary, I symbolically disperse the Volanth order of the Enabled Hand. And so it is done; Volanth chapter is no more."

"What are you going to do with them?"

"Wear them, of course. They are woven round with spells of defense. I expect I shall need their protection on the road to New Koratia." Ember strapped the bracers on and stepped across the basin's edge. "I don't think Loku will mind, since I'm the only member of the chapter remaining."

Wearing the bracers, Ember felt emboldened, magnified. The dwarf looked at her with admiration. Ember wondered whether the relics should have seen the light of day earlier. Perhaps if someone had worn them, instead of locking them away, the tragedy might have been averted. On her arms, the bracers felt as if they had been custom made for her.

Brek cautioned, "I know you want to get started immediately, but we both need rest, after all. Let's sleep for what remains of the night anyway, then leave at dawn."

"Agreed. New Koratia can wait those few hours."