"Wake up, sleepyhead," said the voice.

Hennet opened one eye. Ember regarded the waking sorcerer with a smile. He returned her smile, groping for her hand, but she turned to wake the others. His hand fell back to his side.

She moved from cot to cot, waking everyone with a quick shake of the shoulder. She wasn't blind; she could see that the sorcerer was smitten with her, but his timing was not good. The loss of her chapter was too recent and weighed too heavily. Perhaps after the cult was dealt with, she could reach closure. Then she would consider the possibility of a deeper friendship with the sorcerer. But for now, she could not entertain distractions.

Though he is striking, she thought, with those tattoos and his eastern mannerisms....

The streets of New Koratia at that late hour were still active. The five adventurers on their way to the Motherhouse of the Enabled Hand were just five more late revelers, among the many dozens still out late, seeking some last bit of entertainment before the dawn, only four hours away. They spoke little. The hard, bright stars looked down from on high, indifferent to the antics of the living.

Soon enough they stood in an alley near the Motherhouse. Ember felt a breath of danger on her neck and looked around cautiously. It reminded her of the night-darkened alley where she and Brek Gorunn had been ambushed. It wasn't a memory she was likely to lose. Judging by the way the dwarf clutched his warhammer, Ember concluded that Brek was recalling the same scene.

Kairoth rubbed his hands together as he approached one brick wall.

"A secret passage is here," he said, "but it is mostly forgotten. The younger elders do not know of it. It provided my escape when the Order was beset."

The older monk slowly walked along the wall, one hand trailing across the brick. The dim light from a street lantern threw his shadow along the wall before him.

"Ah, here it is."

A press, a twist, and a section of the wall whispered open.

Brek Gorunn noted in a professional tone, "Fine stonework."

Kairoth pressed a finger to his lips, motioning them to follow with his other hand. The elder stepped through the door into a narrow, dusty corridor. Ember followed him, then Brek and Hennet, and Nebin brought up the rear.

In the darkness of the passage, someone whispered, "Shall I summon light?" Ember recognized Hennet's voice.

The gruff voice of Brek Gorunn uttered a terse, "No." There were a few more seconds of darkness, then light blossomed from a lantern held by the dwarf. "Save your magic for the fighting, if it comes to it."

The narrow corridor ran parallel to the outer brick wall, then made a sudden turn, becoming even narrower, if possible. Ember felt sorry for the dwarf, who was barely able to squeeze along with bis broad shoulders and mail overcoat. Kairoth led them to a small door.

The monk opened the door, revealing a small meditation cubicle. It held a single, flickering candle. Ember realized the door they had just opened into the cubicle was also secret.

She murmured back to the others, "This is a meditation chamber; we must be in the Hall of Meditation. Good news; we are close to the Elders' Sanctum."

Brek nodded, whispering, "The more of the Motherhouse we can bypass completely, the more likely we are to succeed."

"If we can avoid raising a general alarm, all the better. I do not want to fight innocent students," Kairoth agreed.

So saying, the older monk moved into the cubicle and opened the far door. Beyond was a broad hallway lit with golden lanterns, though all were burning on low wicks. Ember and the others followed, one after the other, passing out of the meditation cubicle, which was normally considered large enough for only a single student. Nebin followed Brek into the hallway, and Hennet followed after, closing the door with a tiny click.

Ember scanned the hallway, relieved to see that their entry was unmarked. Sometimes those who couldn't sleep visited the Hall of Meditation late at night to calm their thoughts.

Kairoth looked around and grimaced. "The Elders' Sanctum lies at the end of the hall."

They moved as a group in the direction the elder indicated. Ember recalled walking that very hall when she and Brek first visited the order two days before. A definite air of threat suffused the air, or at least she imagined so. A richly carved set of oak doors stood closed at the end of the hallway. The doors were framed in a matching oak lintel. The last time Ember and Brek passed that way, the doors were open.

Ember cocked her head. "Do you hear that?" Indeed, all could hear the mutterings of many voices in the next room, muted by the stout door. "It is some sort of gathering. I've never known the elders to meet so late."

Ember looked to Kairoth, and the elder shook his head.

"Any elders we see beyond this door are masters in the art of hand, fist, and foot, even if they've been somehow subverted. It would be foolish for any of you to try your strength against them. Leave them to me. Are you ready?"

Nebin brought his goggles down over his eyes and pulled a scroll from his belt. Hennet rubbed his hands together, while the dwarf smacked the head of his warhammer into his other palm.

Ember simply nodded and said, "It is time."

Kairoth pushed wide the door.

Two days before, Ember was heartened by the warm lights and fragrant oils of this chamber. Now, the ambiance of the reddish lights seemed to suggest only blood.

Four people sat in a circle at the center of the large room. All four wore red masks and chanted in atonal unison. At the center of the circle were two more figures. One was a woman half wrapped in gray strands of fabric, lying face up. She seemed drugged, unaware of her surroundings. Another red-masked figure hunched over her, tightening the woman's wrappings, winding the fabric around her slowly and ritually in time to the chanting. Ember recognized both. The woman being wrapped was Elder Cestra, the other, Elder Vobod! The walls of the room were hidden by silken screens.

Elder Kairoth spoke loudly. "Vobod, your betrayal of the Order ends here."

The chanting ceased as every masked face turned toward the intruders.

Vobod looked up, easily recognizable despite his red mask, and said, "Look here, my fellow adepts. We have more applicants who wish to take the Oath. Welcome them!"

The chanters scrambled to gain their feet. Elder Kairoth didn't give them the chance. With a yell, he leaped spectacularly over their heads and delivered a powerful spinning kick to Elder Vobod. Vobod deflected most of the force with the back of his hand, then counterattacked; he was a blur of flashing arms and legs. Normally, an exhibition fight between two elders was something Ember wouldn't miss. Now, she had to somehow deal with the other red-masked chanters. She hoped there were no elders hiding among them, or the battle was over before it began.

With a rush of feet, the red masks leaped to the attack, one after another.

Ember engaged the foremost, using careful ho shin sul, the self defense techniques of the Order. She was slightly dismayed when the man she faced used a similar, if not identical, technique. A stunning, round-house thunder slap to his neck penetrated his defense before he could counterattack. Ember spun past the collapsing man, looking for more adversaries.

Her breath caught when she saw robes cartwheeling past her and Brek's flank, directly toward Hennet. The sorcerer traced a pattern in the air, then reduced his assailant to a writhing heap on the floor with sizzling bolts of magic. Though the man fell, the momentum of his charge pushed the body to within a foot of the sorcerer.

Two more menaced Brek Gorunn, each attempting to distract the dwarf so that the other could attempt a killing blow. Before Ember could assist, Nebin rushed forward, one of his hands aglow with frigid lambency. When the gnome's hand brushed one of Brek's attackers, the supernatural charge stopped him cold. A heartbeat later, the dwarf dropped the other with a ringing blow from his warhammer.

Kairoth and Vobod continued sparring, two blurred forms moving too quickly to resolve. The dwarf howled his cry to battle, attacking Vobod from the rear. Before the dwarf's roar was fully formed, a foot lashed against his neck. The cry choked off and Brek collapsed, unmoving. Ember, on the dwarf's heels, stopped to check on him. He breathed, but his neck was badly crushed. Ember looked up, wondering if she should pull the dwarf away or help her mentor. No decision was necessary.

With the dwarf as a distraction, Elder Kairoth executed another spin kick. This time, Vobod had no defense. With the sound of crunching bone, Vobod joined Brek Gorunn on the floor. Kairoth stood as a pillar, unmoving, but his eyes danced.

It was then that a brutish, hollow voice echoed in the chamber. It said, "Elder Kairoth, remember your oath!"

Kairoth staggered as if punched, then stood unmoving again, but the flames in his eyes were doused.

"Who said that?" squealed Nebin.

Ember darted her gaze around, trying to ascertain the same thing. It hadn't been the last chanter. He cowered on the floor.

A shape burst through one of the screens surrounding the room, tearing the silk into flapping shreds. It was humanlike, yet bestial, half-again as big as a human. Its skin was muddy green.

Nebin squeaked, "An ogre! Or half-breed?"

The gnome's voice wavered with uncertainty. The ogre-like monstrosity laughed.

"Elder Kairoth," it intoned hollowly, "kill the woman! Then kill the rest!"

Kairoth grunted, his face working hard. Ember looked at her mentor, taking a step back. With a strangled grunt, he faced Ember.

He whispered, the muscles of his neck straining like wires, "Run!"

Ember nearly fell. Whatever had happened in the subterranean temple, they had not rescued Kairoth in time. It would have been clear to anyone that Kairoth's will was fighting the magical effect with supernatural effort. To Ember, who knew the mental disciplines behind the Order's training, the struggle playing out on Kairoth's face was a nightmare to behold. If Kairoth could not overcome it, she knew no one could. That would indeed be powerful and frightening magic—and the ogre somehow manipulated it. The monster had to be dealt with, and quickly. None of them would live long if Kairoth turned fully against them.

"Hennet, Nebin, kill that ogre now!" she screamed.

She wanted to say more, but Kairoth kicked at her. Another kick, two feints, and then a hammer blow so fast and hard it made the air ring. Ember fell back with each attack, knowing she couldn't fight her mentor. She barely dared to deflect his blows, afraid that even a glancing hit could shatter her arm or snap a wrist. She dodged and ducked, leaped and rolled, anything to stay away from those hands and feet that could strike like hot iron. If she could avoid getting crippled or knocked out, perhaps she could keep Kairoth occupied long enough for the others to eliminate the ogre that drove the monk to attack.

These were no thoughts in Ember's mind, only instinct. No time existed for thought. The notion had barely formed when a steely fist streaked past her whirling defense. Even as she was lifted from her feet and lost track of the room's orientation, she marveled at the elder's speed and power. How could a human do such feats?

She smashed backward through a silk screen and slammed into the solid wall behind. The force of the impact sent spiderweb cracks through the stone. Only when she slid down and collided with the floor did Ember realize she was upside down. Darkness's seductive veil tantalized her eyes.

Ember moaned, rolled onto all fours, and crawled forward. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth, more streamed down her shoulder. She tried sitting up, pulling at the rough stones on the wall behind the screen for support, but her head swooned and up and down rushed together. Her back slapped the floor in a puff of dust. Lying there, she managed to turn her head so she could watch how the others fared without her.

Kairoth stood unmoving again, his hands squeezing into fists then relaxing, over and over. His face was beet red and sweat rolled across it to disappear into the knotted muscles of his neck. Ember looked for Hennet, then saw him facing the ogre. The sorcerer muttered a few syllables and gestured. A ghostly, disembodied hand appeared above and behind the ogre. The ogre didn't seem to see it—it was yelling something to Kairoth, but she couldn't hear over the thumping in her ears.

The ghostly hand, moving as Hennet's own hand moved, grabbed a loose drape of silk, one of the sheets torn by the ogre's entrance.

What's he up to? she wondered.

With a flip and a shake, the hand flicked the silk over the head of the ogre. The ogre roared and groped for the edge of the cloth. Ember saw Nebin skip forward. The gnome's hand was still charged with icy cold. He reached out and up, touching the creature in the middle of its chest. The ogre stiffened, its head wrapped in the silk.

It gasped, "Mistress Sosfane, help me! Nerull, preserve me."

Then it fell. Its heart was frozen.

Something occluded Ember's view. Kairoth! She flinched back as he reached toward her.

"Ember, a magical compulsion held me. I am so, so sorry. Please, let me help you."

He held her hand, and she allowed him to help her stand. Ember groaned. Once she was on her feet, her head cleared quickly.

With a hand on her mentor's shoulder, she said, "It was only your teaching, Kairoth, that allowed me to evade your attacks for as long as I did. And your last blow, I believe, would have killed anyone not trained by you."

Kairoth sighed and said, "A blackness fell over me. Something other than my own will directed my actions."

Ember nodded and vowed silently to keep one eye on the elder. His situation was a topic that required discussion, but it could wait.

Nebin remained where he stood before the unmoving ogre, breathing hard through his mouth. Ember presumed he was dazed or surprised at his own foolhardiness.

Hennet pulled a vial from his pouch and went to the dwarf's side. The sorcerer put the vial to the dwarf's lips, forcing him to drink. A gulp, a cough, and Brek Gorunn's eyes popped open.

Seeing Hennet, he asked, "We are the victors, then?"

Hennet nodded wearily.

Vobod and Cestra both lay unconscious. Neither showed any sign of coming around, but they continued to breathe shallowly. After a search of all the defeated cultists and their equipment, the group considered the fruits of their victory. They had collected several mundane rings and amulets bearing Nerull's sign, a few vials of magical liquid that Nebin promised to "keep safe" for later identification, and a single rolled parchment containing a message to Vobod. The message was inked in Common:

Dearest Vobod,

Administer the Oath to Elder Cestra. Her unwitting cooperation has been useful, but the time has come to bring her fully into the fold. Our secret is in danger of spilling out. Kairoth has resurfaced. I blame you for leaving him to his own devices in the Old Temple. He should have been brought to me, in the Revived Temple, as I commanded. You will receive your punishment in due course for this lapse. But for now, tend to Cestra. Things come to a head. Nerull's umbral glory is about to shine forth from the flaming pit. Let all fall before the Reaper of Flesh!

—S.

" 'S' eh?" wondered Nebin.

"Perhaps 'S' stands for Sosfane," said Ember. "When we spoke with Elder Vobod earlier, he mentioned someone named Sosfane. He claimed she had been slain, but it's obvious he lied about many things. Assuming 'S' and Sosfane are one and the same, what does she have against the Order of the Enabled Hand? I asked Vobod that question earlier, but he wouldn't answer."

"It could be that she is simply exploiting a weakness to further her cause," Hennet mused. "Maybe the Order of the Enabled Hand is only involved because Vobod, or some other elder, proved weak?"

"Hard to say," Kairoth responded. "We have few facts, and speculation won't lead us to the truth."

Nebin nudged Hennet in the ribs with a grin.

"Where is this 'Revived Temple' the note speaks of?" wondered Ember.

Kairoth shook his head and said, "If anywhere, it is below the city. The duke would never accept a temple to Nerull operating openly on the streets."

Hennet asked, "Do you suppose it is near where we rescued you, Elder Kairoth?"

"It may be, though this letter suggests that they are not near each other. Lucky for me, it seems," said the elder with unaccustomed irony.

"What is our next move? Despite all we have done here, this letter makes clear that we have not rooted out the source of the evil afflicting the order," Ember said, looking to Kairoth for direction.

"Find the Revived Temple," Kairoth replied. "Then we eliminate it, just as they attempted to eliminate us. We must fight or perish, that much is clear."

Ember considered. "I concur, except for one thing. I mean no offense, Elder Kairoth, but you have become vulnerable to them, and your vulnerability places all of us in great danger. You could be turned against us again, should you accompany us on our search for the Revived Temple. The same is true of Cestra, and potentially any other monk of the Enabled Hand. As far as I know, I am the only one who hasn't had contact with the Order before a few days ago. The task falls on me."

"Ember, you can count on me to help," declared Hennet.

"By the beard of my father, she can count on all of us, of course," agreed Brek Gorunn.

Nebin nodded. "Right. But lest we forget, tomorrow Hennet and I have one final obligation to fulfill in the coliseum."

Ember smiled. "Don't worry, wizard. It will take a day or longer to track down the whereabouts of this Revived Temple. Brek has other contacts in town, at the Temple of Moradin. Perhaps they can tell him where to start looking."

Ember turned to the dwarf, who said, "I will pay a visit to the Dwarffather's temple tomorrow morning, first thing. If there is any activity below the city, temple or not, my kindred here should know of it."

"Very well," concluded the elder. "I and Cestra will restore order in the Motherhouse as much as we are able. We will also question Vobod when he wakes—under strict guard, of course. Perhaps we can persuade him to tell us where the Revived Temple is located."

"Revived Temple of Nerull," Nebin pondered aloud. "I don't believe I like the sound of that."