B.T.V. -- Session 09 Epilogue: To Jhi

Axewing Makes an Impression and Goes on a Sea Cruise While Axewing, in company with Cabillion and Defiant, went to the Shrine of Arrows to rest for the night, Asher Zi still had tasks to fulfill. First, he talked to Arruth, hoping to open a dialogue with the Leonaedes about combining their efforts to improve the lot of both humans and Tribesmen in the Draegeran Empire. “You talk like a noble,” Arruth remarked to Asher, and that seemed the end of that. Axewing reached the shrine, which had been briefly occupied by Peloi’s raiders. It was a substantial building, perhaps 100 feet across, and seemingly in everyday use. He found small offerings inside, some rotted with age but others only a day or two old. Among them were some small casks of ale. Inspecting the site, he found carvings of Shahasans, honoured seemingly not for being warriors or statesmen, but for the mercantile abilities. One had what looked like a small fan in his hand, while another was on one knee, looking victorious, his hand pointing at the ground ahead of him. Defiant, meanwhile, settled into some nearby woods, while Cabillion stayed close to Axewing. Then, in company with Dagnyr and Umm, Zi walked to the wreckage of the skyship, to keep him promise to the female Draegeran who had survived the crash but dislocated her knee. He had vowed to take her to a physicker for help. He noticed some Brunya at the scene, and asked one if he had seen the woman. “She was delicious,” the Brunya commented, in an apparent jest, and that seemed the end of that, except Asher learned that his three new Draegeran followed, Ondoava the Lyorn, Shuutak the Jhegella and Millyan the Yendi were poking around. Zi couldn’t help but notice a similarity between Shuutak and Dagnyr. Both carried morningstars, and in stance seemed eerily alike, though the Draegeran was, of course, considerably taller than the Delve. Shuutak found it odd when Zi pointed this out, noting the Morningstar was a common weapon in the environs of the Red City. He found them as well, but they said they, too, had not seen the weapon. One suggested she had sought refuge in the woods nearby. Zi dispatched Umm and Dagnyr to take to the air and find the routed Amberish cavalry unit, and take them back to the bulk of their comrades camped near the stables. That was not the end of that, but Zi wouldn’t discover that until the next day. He and Ondoava went into woods south of the skyship to see if they could find the wounded Draegeran. “I do not sense her nearby,” Ondoava claimed. “You are attracted to her then?” Zi explained he was more concerned about fulfilling his promise, given that the woman had cushioned his fall in the crash, but admitted she was a beautiful woman. Then Ondoava revealed she was not who she appeared, but in fact was the wounded woman, Sana Xina, and she resumed her strange taunting of Asher, calling him her slave, which he was rapidly finding tiresome, though he endured it because he wanted to discover what her true motives were. He wondered if perhaps she was of the Wire, sent to track him down because he had broken his relationship with the spy organization, but kept that to himself. The body of Ondoava was nearby, and Zi saw that her neck had been snapped, presumably when she attacked the Red Khakhan in the stables. “Changing one’s gender is rather odd,” Sana Xina observed. “Millyan might be similarly odd.” They walk back toward the Shrine, and along the way Zi sees Deverane camping with his Order of the Unicorn Knight. Asher goes over to speak to him. “Oh, these ones,” Ondoava/Sana Xina observed. “I saw them from the ship. Very heavily armoured. “I might rather enjoy this visit.” Deverane greeted Zi as “Commander,” but frowned at Ondoava/Sana Xina. The knight agrees the Amberish forces will be ready to move in the morning, as Zi plans to go first to the Veerish Ark, and then from there to the Vikka of Jhi to attempt to reclaim the Heart of the Dragon. Asher and Ondoava/Sana Xina pass a farmhouse on the road to the Shrine. “Why don’t we spend the night there, in privacy,” she taunted him. He did not reply, and she seems to enjoy his discomfiture. He does not. At the Shrine, as they enter, Asher hears a scraping sound and then a metallic thud, and turns to see Ondoava/Sana Xina pinned against a wall in an odd armlock by Cabillion. Asher relaxes just a bit. “Nice night for a walk,” Cabillion remarked. “Get your hands off me,” Ondoava/Sana Xina insisted. “I belong to him.” That seemed an odd reversal of her previous claims, Zi thought. He hesitates a few moments, then nods to Cabillion to let her go. “You’ll pay for that later,” Sana Xina promised in his mind. He shrugged mentally, then answers, “Promises, promises.” “You’re only saying that because there are other people in the Shrine,” she countered out loud. Then, in his mind, she added, “He’s rather skilled.” “These markings on your arms,” Cabillion says, nodding at Ondoava/Sana Xina’s tattooed arms. “They seem tribal. That doesn’t make any sense.” Ondoava/Sana Xina answered, “A practice learned in my travels.” “What do they do? They seem to be floral in nature.” Ondoava/Sana Xina changed the subject. “Where is this Axewing we are supposed to be meeting?” They proceed to an inner chamber. Axewing chooses that moment to enter, and leans his axe in a corner. Sitting on the floor, he set aside his helm as well, and shook off his gauntlet. Ondoava/Sana Xina is still holding her blue knife in her hand, which Cabillion had referred to as a “krys.” Axewing offers them some cooked rabbit. “Delicious,” Ondoava remarks, looking at Axewing. Then she added, “I meant the rabbit. It smells delicious.” Axewing, as they eat, hears a noise off to his left. He looks up and decants a light spell, and spots Millyan atop a wall, looking down into the open chamber. The Yendi, shifting slightly as he covers his eyes in reaction, slips and falls outside. Zi, intent on his food, fails to notice, even as Axewing cants the spell. After they finish the food, Zi asks Axewing what ambitions or desires he might have for their next action. Asher confessed he thought an immediate trip to Jhi might be premature. “My desires, Asher, are general in nature. To change the natural of this world, so the Cadavviva never arise.” Zi then outlines his plan to march south, in company with the Amberish knights, first to the Ark to consult with the Marillion who had suggested they aid the tribesmen in the battle at Dulisse, and then southwest to Jhi. “You seem to take to the marshalling of troops quite naturally,” Cabillion observes, but Asher demurs, saying he had no real experience, certainly not when compared to Axewing. The immortal then asked after Zi’s intentions for the Heart of the Dragon, once it was reclaimed from Peloi. Asher stated he intended to keep the Heart, trusting no one else with its power to liberate Ghilong and, in the event of Elric’s death, the destructive dragons of Melnibone. Axewing, awoken in the night by what sounds like an explosion nearby, goes out to investigate, while Zi slumbers on. In the woods to the west, he and Cabillion find Defiant and Cinq telling a small crowd of Leonaedes, with a few Brunya, Amberish knights and even Shahasans nearby, about Axewing and his exploits in the previous realms of existence the immortal had experienced. Axewing is content to sit on the ground and listen. Cinq was saying, “It was then that the Mule began his foray. A great taking of lives, destruction beyond imagining. “At that time, there was a great deal of misunderstanding brought on by my kind,” he confessed. Our leader was the Dragon Abramha. None knew my kind controlled all the elements, the water, the earth, the air.” Cinq continued that upon the battlefield, he found Axewing wounded at the base of a volcano.” The Tribesmen at first seemed not to know what this meant, but word spread, and a Shahasan commented, “We have more lore on this. Our shrines are dedicated to this.” Axewing stirred slightly, wondering if sleeping in one was the best idea. “They were not at all ready for combat,” Cinq resumed his story. “I revived Defiant, and got Axewing on his back and flew him to the places of power.” There, Abramha and Horus brought Axewing back. Learning of the servants of the Mule, the immortal was ready again to fight, and went to a battle on a great plain. Suddenly, a huge wall of water appeared on the horizon rolled inexorably toward the friendly troops below, but Axewing, high in the sky upon defiant, called down the stars from the heavens to boil the water away before it could have any effect. Defiant, who took over the narrative, said he then summoned his people. “What are your people?” a Leonaedes asked. Defiant said they were like himself though less so, or words to that effect, great flying cats. “I am king to my people!” “Why are you a bird?” another Leonaedes inquired. Defiant, somewhat bemused, explained that gryphons were combinations of eagles and lions. Spotting a familiar face in the crowd, he called out, “Ah! Axewing! Come forth. There is the hero of our story.” Axewing stood reluctantly. “There were many heroes that day. Mine is only one story among thousands.” But as the Leonaedes seated in front of him arose and moved apart in respect, Axewing, joined by Cabillion, moved toward Defiant and Cinq. “We should really have Deth here for this kind of story,” Cabillion whispered in Axewing’s ear. A knight of Amber, Omniveer, stood forward and said others were on the battlefield, including members of the Principal Family of man, but he joined in acknowledge the honours paid to Axewing and his companions. “Some are modest when battles are not at the forefront. When called to battle, such as Axewing will come forward.” An unusually brawny Shahasan who turned out to not be a Shahasan at all, intercepted Axewing as he moved toward the centre of attention, and asked that they talk later. His name was Igni Yysturn. “Yes, of course,” Axewing replied, and the not-Shahasan accompanies him to the front. “Commander,” Omniveer greets Axewing, drawing his sword to acknowledge the immortal. “Hail to Axewing of the Veightal! Immortal leader of men who would be free!” Cinq interjected, “Men, yes. But others are equally valued.” Axewing added, “I look at it as an extension of my own personal dealings. My friendships, many, many of them are not human. I look upon causes that all races share.” “These are fine words, but what do they mean to us?” a low voice asks from the darkness, and a Kodis covered in white fur stepped forward. “You say you are friend to many who are not human. The tribes have trusted Easterners who needed us, and made us promises, and in turn they broke their promises.” Cinq answered, “We do not come from the East. We come from all around. There is no East in our past. There is only victory against our enemies. “I am like you, though I have no tribe. If you stood alone, you might feel the same. We share a coloration. We should share more.” “This to me smells like an Easterner,” the Kodis declared. “I am Famerall. I am King of the Kodis!” Axewing begins silently to strip himself of the armour on his upper body, revealing the blackened stump of his left shoulder. Famerall cocks his head, as if to say, “You’re kidding,” but then realizes Axewing is serious. Two Brunya step forward to help him out of his own chestplate. “We will test ourselves, yes?” the Kodis rumbled. He then dropped into a wrestling stance, his legs outstretched, his arms held wide apart. He reached out with his left hand to grasp Axewing’s right hand. The immortal attempts a hard shove, but the Kodis, closely matched despite Axewing’s astounding strength, held fast. Famerall moves inward and attempts to grasp the immortal about his waist, but fails, giving Axewing a momentary advantage. The immortal kicks the Kodis in the back of his left knee, but Famerall just kneels on that side, keeping his balance. Then Axewing throws a mighty punch as the Kodis turns his head toward the immortal, and Famerall is lifted up off his knees, tumbling to the ground a pace or so away. Cinq, seeing that the king is unconscious, comes forward and drapes Axewing’s cloak over his shoulders. “It was a mighty blow,” one of the two Brunya observed, but Axewing noted no applause or cheering from the audience. “It might have been luck,” the other Brunya conjectured, but Igni growled, “It was not luck.” As the Brunyas drag Famerall back into the woods, Defiant asked, “Did you have to knock him out?” “I had to do what he would respect,” Axewing answered somberly. A Leonaedes approaches and, tentatively picking up the Armour of Time, tentatively handed it to Axewing, who dons it. “What is the technique known as?” the Leonaedes asked. “Such things could prove useful. Against the Draegerans.” “It is Cimmerian wrestling,” Axewing said. Asher, who’s had a sound sleep, feels a tap on his foot, and awakens to find Shuutak standing near him. “May I have a word? It’s about Ondoava.” Asher suspected what he was about to hear, and the Jheggala’s next words confirm it. “Millyan will warn us if she returns. Something is wrong with her. She’s not right.” When the Red Khakhan had told the three Draegeran companions, Millyan, Shuutak and Ondoava, to swear to swerve Zi, the last had attacked the Khakhan but had been stopped dead. Literally. “But now she lives,” Shuutak observed in their low voice. “Very strange. I cannot say this red woman wanted her to be with us.” Perhaps the Red Khakhan had revivified Ondoava, the Jhegalla speculated, but seemed unconvinced by his own theory. “You seem to be a decent kind, for an Easterner,” Shuutak added, which endeared the Jhegalla to Asher. Zi was hesitant about revealing information about Ondoava/Sana Xina until he knew what she was up to. She seemed far too abrasive to be trying to deceive him, but he was still guessing as to her true intentions. But, wary of more sinister possibilities, he admitted that he, too, had suspicions, and told Shuutak to let Millyan know that, should ghostlight come to Zi’s hand without him giving warning, they should turn on Ondoava. Shuutak, who seemed to share a mental link with Millyan that went beyond normal psychic communication, warned that Ondoava was returning. She came in before Asher could resume his slumber. “You miss all the occasions if you sleep,” Ondoava/Sana Xina remarked, but she did not elaborate. Zi replied by returning to his slumber. It had been long since he had last had a decent night’s sleep. He only briefly wondered where Axewing was. When Asher awakes again, he is alone in the room with Sana Xina, who is in her previous form. He is not sure it is her natural form. Another name comes to mind, but he dismisses it for now. Too little evidence, too much conjecture. But it will stay in the back of his mind. He gets to his feet, then nudges her boot with his own. She cracks open an eye. “You need to put your face on, my dear,” he observed. “I’m not your dear,” she responded. He shrugged and went outside to see Millyan and Shuutak cooking a brace of pheasants over a fire. Shuutak offers to share some of his with Asher, in return for half of a travelling ration the human carries with him, and Zi agrees. Ondoava/Sana Xina, who has emerged from the Shrine, stretches, then settles nearby but does not join them. “Ondoava usually rises before us,” Millyan says under his breath. “Always,” agrees Shuutak. Cinq wakes Axewing, who took his sleep in the woods, with a hand on his shoulder. “I am mindful of the events of last night,” Cinq began. “Even the King of Amber would have been impressed. “It puts me in mind of who we must win over. There was no cheering, no uplifting moment. They strictly accepted what you had done.” “They might be accustomed to defeat,” Axewing replied, and Cinq nodded. “It is another war we must win,” the Chaerin stated. “I have hopes for this Shahasan who has come to you. Igni.” “He seems more military than others I have seen.” Cinq said they must look to the Leonaedes as potential allies, but many other tribes existed as well. He asked Axewing if he could bring others to Axildusk to help in that. “Nothing I have been able to bring here,” Axewing answered frankly. “All is a balance here. I am what I have.” “If you only had a relic,” Cinq hinted. Axewing replied he did have more than one, all the gifts of friends. Cinq said he supposed Axewing couldn’t be expected to sacrifice those, then, to bring reinforcements from outside Axildusk. He mentioned Omniveer then, saying the knight had served them well. Axewing said his impression was that the knight was one of the Amberite Prince Julian’s followers, who tended to be more chivalric in their disposition. He added he had yet to meet any of the representatives of Amber now upon Axildusk, or to see their new home. Cinq conjectured those of Amber would be a great weapon in Asher’s coming conquests. Bringing the Tribesmen to the fore would be challenging, given their relatively small number and dispersal. Time would be needed for that mission. For now, the Chaerin concluded, they must focus on their current mission, ensuring Elric gains the throne of the Draegeran Empire. Axewing mentioned he had suggested Asher contact the Marillion who had sent them to Dulisse, to see if that one knew how best they might marshal their resources. Cinq countered that the Marillion were more likely to be focused on the Draegerans than any others. “I have nothing against the Veer, but I prefer humanity,” he adds. He urges Axewing to seek out his fellow Outremere, the five other members of the Obsidian. “Each of you is so individualistic,” Cinq states. “Together, you might oppose the Veer, at least rivalling them in their ambition. And when Elric has the throne, what then?”, the Chaerin inquired. “The Darkness, Vaxxus, the Mule,” Axewing answered. Cinq again urged the immortal to seek out his fellow Obsidian, “Any of your Principals you can find out about.” Shadowjack was about in Axildusk, he continued, and Sybermane was known to be in peril, but what of the others? “Could they help the Tribes? You would want most of them, I would think.” “I do not know what Obsidians are,” Axewing protested. “Why are you so resistant? ‘The fact you do not known your own principal group might be part of the reason the old Realm was lost to us. “ “I didn’t even know the term ‘Obsidian’ until recently,” Axewing defended himself. “Why did I know tell you? Only someone gifted in thought could bring this blankness. For such as I know the truth, it was held apart from you. Now I have revealed these things to you, you must learn more. Each of you holds a relical item. There isn’t one for every Noble Thought. I wish my master was here. He would be more convincing.” “If you say it is such, I believe you,” Axewing gave in. “What can you tell me of the Shrouds? I have no memory of them.” “They have existed only here. Axildusk is a world apart, a realm apart.” “Are the other Obsidians aware of them?” “I do not know. I would not put it past Shadowjack. Perhaps you are the last of the Six, but you wear the armour.” “I could at least try to contact one. Perhaps they’ll know how to contact the others.” Changing the subject, Axewing asked, “What will you do with the Shahasans?” “What would you have me do? I am Chaerin. I have the elemental forces of nature at my command. I will try to find willing Shahasans, if you wish, but they are only one of many tribes.” “This is the dilemma we face,” Axewing observed. “Time.” “Time is on your side,” Cinq reminded his friend. “You need to decide, though, before you waste any more time. You have Defiant. You can travel more widely than the other Obsidians can. “We need the help of one more inclined to the marshaling of forces. What of the one in Jet and Gold?” “He was defeated by a Syphon, as the Steel General was. I defeated mine.” “Surely the Outcast has the upper hand,” Cinq lamented. “This makes the Obsidian even more important to our cause.” “Perhaps the easiest avenue is Asurbanipal,” Axewing suggested, thinking of his old friend. “It is good you are sure,” Cinq remarked. “It would be good to find a native who knows more of the Tribes. I might speak more with Igni about this.” “You had best set Asher on his course before you deal with Obsidian matters,” Cinq recommended. Axewing, returning to the Shrine, found Asher and his Draegeran followers breaking their fast outdoors. Ondoava waves at him as he approaches. “You’re too late,” Shuutak observes when Axewing arrives, gesturing to the remains of their meal. “I think not,” Axewing replies. “You’re still here.” Millyan counters, “They are threatening words, Easterner…but sit anyway.” Axewing, addressing Asher, outlines his plans to seek out his fellow Obsidian, and offers to meet Zi in Jhi. Then, taking Asher some distance away, he tells Zi that Ondoava’s appearance is illusionary. Asher assures the immortal he already knows, and is taking precautions. Axewing, Cabillion and Defiant then take their leave, as the immortal seeks out Igni. Having finished his breakfast, Asher wonders aloud where Umm and Dagnyr might be, and resolves to see if they camped alongside the Amberish cavalry they guided back to the main encampment the previous night. He sees Deverane of the Order of the Unicorn and poses that question. The knight tells him that the last the pair were seen, they were northwest of the camp, where they had found the cavalry. Deverane, discovering that none of the Tribal forces will be joining Asher on his way south, admits to having been confused, and begs off. Instead, he will take his knights back to Amber. Zi, producing a map, points out where the New Amber can be found, and Millyan provides directions to the nearest seaports. Then, Asher reaches out in his mind to Umm and makes contact, but the clarity of the communication is such that the drake seems far away indeed. “We do not know where we are,” Umm reports. “We have been captured in some way. We can hear the sound of running water, and I would guess I’m underground.” Asher attempted to maintain contact with Umm while reaching out to Ghilong, but failed. However, Ghilong did respond, though Asher, knowing the Heart of the Dragon was in Peloi’s hands, wasn’t certain how much he could trust the Dragon of the East Wind, since he might be under the Draegeran’s control to some extent. Asher explains the situation and Ghilong stares back at him.

“He, the Drake, is where he belongs. He awaits your arrival. He is a prison in Jhi, held by Peloi, in a manner of speaking.” Asher noted the qualification. “The Delve was identified as being more of a risk to him, and was removed. Umm just happened to be there. Two for one, as humans might say." “This is the Veerish way. It is only that you are used to Draegerans. They have nothing to fear from me.” Ghilong departed, and Ondoava/Sana Xina remarked, “Most remarkable. I have to say, Asher, I am impressed.” Zi raised an eyebrow at that, mainly because she sounded sincere. And also because she had seen Ghilong. “Talking to me could help,” Ondoava/Sana Xina continued. “Jhi, Peloi holds all of it. There is a river in Jhi, that forks at the Vikka.” They then set off on foot, on a trip estimated to take several days, but it wouldn’t. Axewing, having found Igni sitting with Cinq, says, “I only wish to speak to you.”

The tiger-like man asks about Cabillion, who had gone off the speak to the Chaerin separately. “He is a slayer,” Igni says. “I can smell it on him. Rather, I can smell the knives on him. The leather grips give him away.” “I’ve known him in other forms, but there are certain things he retains.” “He is a slayer. You are a hero. I can see this.” Axewing counters, “You are not like the Shahasans I have seen. You have a more ancient look, as if of Lored Tiger.” “I am an ambush,” Igni answers, somewhat cryptically. “This is a profession, a learned skill?” “A vocation. I am like others you might know better. I don’t smell us on you.” He can call some of his fell Ambush, he admits, but he saves them for an appropriate time. Axewing, realizing that Igni must be a Rahkshasa, asks what has happened to the other members of his race. “A wager was made. It was not successful. A terrible gamble. I was ready,” the last comment seemingly meant to explain his escape from the fate of the old Realm. “I must find these ones of Aethera,” he continues, meaning the Jenoine. “They are key. You will also play a part in this unravelling. You are a hero, as I am. You will be most useful to me, and I most useful to you. I am attached to this world, for my people’s sake.” The gamble, he noted, was meant to free the Shrouds, but the Jenoine won instead. “It remains for those who know disaster best to make it right.” Axewing nods. “It seems our circumstances are cojoined for the moment.” “You must reach out to my principals. They are deaf to me.” “What are their names?” “The only survivors of the Amethyst is Shear Khan. He is our hope. I will remain near Adrilankha. I will find many opportunities. I will hide and I will strike… General, you will provide special action with the creature you ride. I will speak to him, cat to cat. Perhaps he will do a favour for me that he will not do for you.” “I will keep your words in mind,” Axewing vows without promising anything. “I will await you.” Asher Zi and his party, who have travelled for some hours, stop for a midday meal, Millyan using a spear to catch fish. “What motivates you?” Asher asks Ondoava/Sana Xina, but she offers no direct response. She asks instead where he gained his knowledge. “I read many youths as a child, and when I was…engaged in another enterprise.” “If you read books, you should expect that,” she offers about her reticence. She reveals, though, that she knows he has met so far a Green Khakhan and the Red. “You should know the colours are in disarray,” she mentions, and Asher senses he is missing a joke in that statement. “There are other colours, lesser colours.” She urges him to reach out to a Khakhan of a colour special to him. Asher is confused, then focuses on the colour of ghostlight. He then sees the Jade Khakhan appear in front of him.

“Oh, my, you did it,” Ondoava/Sana Xina remarks, but doesn’t sound surprised. “You have asked for me and I have come,” the Jade Khakhan tells Zi. Millyan has his spears in hand and Shuutak rises from the ground, but Zi gestures them back. Then he explains his need to free Umm and Dagnyr. “What would you have the Jade do, exactly?” the Khakhan inquires. “Do forgive him,” Ondoava/Sana Xina interjects. He forgets himself quite often.” Asher fumbles at a reply, giving only a vague request for assistance. He is not pleased with himself. In the books, he would have had a clever idea, or at least a clever speech. The Khakhan finds an answer somewhere, and two floating spheres begin to rotate through loops atop his shoulder, and around his faceless helm. Asher feels light, then very light, then finds himself and his companions in a dank underground corridor, reminding him of a mine. “I probably should have thrown sooner,” Millyan lamented. Ondoava/Sana Xina had another view. “Well, that went extremely well.” Asher could only recall the saying about going from the frying pan into the fire. “There’s the exit,” Ondoava/Sana Xina pointed out. “Anyone have a ball of string?” Axewing, seeking to make contact with Asurbanipal, does not reach out with his mind immediately, but instead flies on Defiant to a small island far out to sea, where a lagoon made for a natural harbour. The immortal wades out into shallow water, and then sits. He begins to think of Asurbanipal on a ship, and focuses as well on the Wheel of Destiny, imagining it at the helm of the vessel. He begins to hear sounds like a busy night in a town, voices calling to each other, singing, the clinking of glasses. A fog bank of unnatural origin arises on the horizon, then rolls ponderously toward the lagoon, entering one side and rotating through. As it passes, it leaves a might ship in the water, seemingly almost floating on a cloud of vapour emitting from a lattice-work at its bottom. The vessel is so vast, a town has been built upon it, with spires reaching into the air. A smaller ship detaches from the vessel, and Axewing sees Asurbanipal at its prow as it is rowed toward him.

The legendary sailor takes Axewing’s arm, and then embraces him. “This is a jolly meeting. Though you seem to be rather deserted,” he added, taking in the island. “I used this to better remember you,” Axewing confides. “What do you think of my ship?” “I’ve never seen it’s like.” “What do you suppose the Admiral will think?” Asurbanipal, a longtime follower of Gerard of Amber, asks mischievously. “The Ship of Spires, I call her. On our way here, I saw vessels in the air. I seem to have been one-upped.” “We have much to discuss,” Axewing tells him. “Have you been long on Axildusk.” “Some months. We have been making a circumnavigation of the world… We might be more comfortable on the ship,” Asurbanipal adds, and they are rowed back to the Spires. They enjoy a boisterous evening and engage in extensive discussions, but that story will be told later. With Defiant settled in the ship’s rigging, they sail around the southern tip of Banners and up a river, almost to where Jhi resides. Axewing departs the vessel to the south bank of a river, an ancient keep across from him high atop a cliff, iron rungs leading up to it. On his side are the circular thatched roofs of huts, as well as a tower of some height, seemingly composed of a wide spiral staircase around a relatively narrow hollow core. A villager, mistaking him for a Draegeran nobleman because of his tall height for a human, directs him to the home of the Astrologer, separated by the forking river from the tower by a rickety wooden suspended bridge. “Tell me,” Axewing asks as well, “Who is the Lord of Jhi?” “Uhm, you are? Any Draegerans you wish, Master!” The villager adds that no one resides in the keep, though two Draegerans occupy a house adjacent to the keep. One is usually there, while the other comes and goes. “But you would know these things, Master. Are you from a Noble House?” “I am an Easterner, like yourself.” “You are too tall,” the villager insists, but after Axewing removes his helm, he relents. “Oh. You are an Easterner. Why are you here, Lord?” “Just come visiting,” Axewing answers. “This Astrologer interests me. Where does he do business?” “In the Tower, Lord,” the peasant says. “When the Furnace descends, and if the Eye doesn’t rise. Though lately he has been watching on those nights, too.” Axewing continues on his way toward the Tower, and spots an elderly figure hurrying across the swaying bridge toward him. “A good day to you, O Draegeran,” the Astrologer, grizzled and with hair grown long and unkempt, introduces himself. “Could we discuss things in your house?” Axewing asks, and the Astrologer agrees. The home, the immortal notes, is pleasant within, but in a humble way. He gives Axewing his best chair. The immortal asks about the two Draegerans in the Vikka, and the Astrologer tells him they are both of the Banners noble house of e’N’varr. They visit him only when they have need of his power. “I am somewhat of a forecaster,” the Astrologer says. “Perhaps you wish to know where a fabled treasure lays?” “I believed it’s called the Heart of the Dragon.” The Astrologer grows nervous. “This is a secret. How did you come to know of it? You must not tell the Draegerans. You are an Easterner.” The elder tugs his beard in what seems genuine anguish. “What do you mean to do with the Heart?” “It is going to the possession of one who would be its caretaker,” Axewing answered. “You’re too late,” the Astrologer protested. “I heard yelling from below. It was two days ago. Once they hear you are here, you will be imprisoned.” The two Draegerans would want Axewing to believe they had the Heart, but they did not, the old man continued. “It is something darker. I have seen it.” Axewing suggests going to the Tower. “The furnace has not yet descended,” the Astrologer points out and, finding that reasonable, Axewing waits until true dark before they make the short journey. Climbing to the top, he looks down and sees an intricate mechanism of many gears below them. “There you are! You see,” the Astrologer declares. Axewing asks if something like a jewel powers the mechanism. “It is unknown. It is very powerful and capable, though. I could send you to the ones below. Astromancy. Two days ago they arrived. They shouted for help. Then one grew quiet, perhaps beaten, and then so did the other.” “But below is where the Heart is,” Axewing states. “Very well. Send me below.” “There is a cost. I do not do these things for free.” “We are at war,” Axewing tried, but the elder was adamant, so the immortal offered a Golden Helm, the currency of Logresse, which was accepted. The Astrologers warns that more lies below than the Heart of the Dragon. “There are darker things there.” “Place your feet apart on the device. Do so quickly now. Do not be shocked when things begin to move.”