Once before Paul had searched for a drug filled evening but had found instead another whole existence. For months after his return life had seemed vastly different and more meaningful. But life has a way of drifting back into old patterns and lately those otherworld lessons had seemed farther and farther away. This day had been especially bad and Paul had set out walking in an attempt to escape his boredom and frustration. How nice it would be to just get stoned and forget it all or to trip and get a new perspective of old things, he thought, or perhaps.

He hadn’t been headed anywhere in particular, at least he had not consciously sought it out, but there across the deserted midnight street was a familiar old antique store, the Dreame Shoppe, known among some of his friends as a place to buy a "really special trip". The first time he had found himself standing outside it’s doors he had anticipated some new form of drug. Now he knew better but was no less thrilled by the prospect. For moment he stood waiting--then he crossed the street and resolutely opened the door of the tiny shop. He found no surprise that it was unlocked, no surprise at the soft glow coming from the back room, and no surprise at the warm pleasure he felt at the old man’s greeting, "Come in and welcome. What kept you so long?" Paul only smiled and shrugged in reply.

 "Do you wish to explore yourself again?" the old man’s voice was soft and patient and no trace of emotion showed on his wrinkled face. Only a sparkle in his eyes reached out to touch Paul.

 "Yes," Paul stood quietly. As before he could not find words.

 "Step into the room then," the old man said as he opened the door to what looked like an empty closet. "The fee will, as usual, be paid by your summoner. Good luck. Go with goodness." The door closed behind him before Paul could turn to thank the shopkeeper. Abruptly the falling sensation took him and he reached for the walls to steady himself, blinking his eyes shut against the dim gray swirl.

Somehow he had expected to go back to the same place or at least to become the same person, but it was not so. This time he found himself standing instead of sitting and for a moment he felt off balance as if he swayed for a moment as he was deposited. The light around him was dim and all at a distance was lost in the shadows. He seemed to be looking at a wall.

Forewarned by his previous experiences he quickly swung around and crouched down as he looked up, but this three hundred and sixty degree view of the room told him nothing. He was alone in a small empty room apparently without doors. Some measure of calm began to return after that first moment of panic. He approached a wall and carefully inspected it, looking for some sort of hidden door or switch, but always with his ears tuned to changes behind him. Then, when fully certain that at least this wall was only a wall, he put his back against it. As each succeeding quiet second passed away his uneasiness dropped from him and he began to take a close look at his surroundings and himself.

This time he found himself clad in light tan trousers and a very pale blue shirt of some soft cotton-like material. His feet were shod in dark leather calf-high boots and he wore an equally dark belt and from that belt a dagger. Checking more closely he found a second dagger tucked down into his left boot. A small pouch was tucked inside his shirt at the waist. By the clink it made it contained some form of money. Over his heart a small pendant dangled and captured within a finely wrought gold band hung a stone of soft blue to match his shirt. He closed his shirt over the pendant. Important it almost surely was but it would have to wait. For the present he felt like ending his confinement.

A hasty search showed no apparent openings in any of the walls, no cracks, no loose stones, in fact the walls seemed almost carved from living rock, a thought which chilled him. Looking up he again tried to see the ceiling but it was dim and seemed distant. Suddenly he realized he wasn’t sure at all where the light came from. Looking down for the first time he thought that the floor itself seemed to glow. At first his mind fought with that notion but he dredged up less likely happenings from that other time and set his doubts aside.

Still -- there was something more to that floor -- and bending to examine it more closely he found a round shallow spot in the dust. Brushing the dust aside he found just what he had expected -- a recessed brass ring. Paul had seen these before, but not as Paul, as another -- and in another place. He was uncertain how he knew but he was certain that he was a different person this time, changed perhaps because of the changes that had happened inside himself that other time. For a moment he hesitated, lost in thought, then mind and soul clear he dusted off the edges of the trap door, reached down, twisted the ring and slowly, keeping the door between himself and what might lie below, he opened the way into new adventures.

A much brighter light reached up to him out of the open trap and he breathed more easily, then almost laughed at himself. He must, he realized, have been afraid it would be dark. Still he waited for the unexpected -- gas or darts or the delayed clang of metal jaws. Nothing happened but still he waited, gathering himself.

In spite of his preparation he jumped as a croaking voice fairly boomed up from the space beneath him, ‘Well don’t just lurk about up there, there’s nothing to see," followed by a nervous tittering, "you found the door quick enough, come on now, come on."

At that Paul shoved his head around the trap door, realizing too late that it might have been a very stupid thing to do. As luck would have it the thin little man staring up at him from some ten feet below looked very harmless. For a moment their eyes locked. Then the little man blinked and stepped back. "Use the pole, don’t jump and break something, there’s a good lad."

Startled by the self assurance that seemed to have overtaken the older man below him, Paul hesitated.

 "Right there at the base of the trap hinge," the old man called up, then because his new apprentice-to-be seemed almost as frightened as he had been, he added, "At least you aren’t the demon I was half expecting."

Demon,? Paul thought as he reflexively did as he was told and searched for the pole. Demon,? rang again in his mind as he twisted himself into the opening and took hold of the pole. Oh Lord, I’m not an acrobat, and unsure if that thought was a curse or a prayer he consigned himself to his fate and slid down the pole. To his pleasant surprise it was a smooth and almost effortless journey and he actually managed a dignified

stop.

He stepped clear of the pole and focused on his adversary, relying on his sense of hearing to help him  against any attack from the rear, then he set himself to wait. The old man would have the next move.

 "I am known as Aragon. What might you be called?" Standing face to face he realized that this apprentice was neither young nor green. He had, more over, the air of a man who enjoyed what he was doing. With this kind of a man Aragon could deal easily.

 "You may call me Rarm," Paul answered only a little surprised and taking the name to himself easily. Rarm -- now this was a person within himself whom he would be pleased to come to know. He was different this time, more sure, more at ease. "Of what service may I be to you Master Aragon?" he asked, now certain that this not-so-old, but kindly looking man before him must be his summoner.

Aragon hesitated for a moment, still sizing up Rarm. "I am an alchemist, do you know what that is?" When Rarm nodded he went on, "I had need of another apprentice and to that end I arranged for you to be summoned here. I have not that power myself." He waited but Rarm made no answer.

 "May I then ask how you came to answer this summons?"

 "I am an adventurer, for hire for the right price. There is one in my world who arranges these jobs for me. He pays me, and I do your bidding." Rarm smiled inwardly, knowing that the price he charged was not one calculated in gold, but rather calculated in inner peace.

Aragon smiled expansively, "Very good, very good. Welcome to our land then. Perhaps we should be gone from here though. Dode will want her space back I am sure and I do not wish to presume on her hospitality any longer than is necessary. We’ll just slip away through the back door there." And grabbing his new apprentice’s arm he suited action to words and fairly shoved Rarm out into the street. Just wouldn’t do for the lovely Dode to get a look at this one, or the other way around for that matter. Might prove too much of a distraction.

 "Why do you smile, Master Aragon?" Rarm looked down at him and Aragon realized that he had come to a halt with his back against the door.

 "Oh, nothing important, just trying to avoid the she-witch who summoned you for me. My own reasons. Come, it is getting toward dark and this is a foul street to get caught on at night. Around this corner here." Aragon led off at a rapid pace, leaving Rarm to follow quickly this time or be left.

He’s certainly working at keeping me off guard, Rarm thought as he stretched his stride to catch up. On his left huge walls towered above some twenty feet and on his right a group of buildings stretched away into what must be a city block. Signs hanging from doors proclaimed two of the establishments to be inns, one Inn of the Drawn Sword, the other Somethin’s Cookin’ and the odors which issued from the latter were enticing indeed. He’d have to try that place sometime. The next shop was marked Engineer Warehouse and as they came abreast of it Aragon grunted and nodded towards it.

 "City engineers, stay clear of that one, can’t build a sand castle right, Bad gambler, too, bad loser."

They walked on around the corner in silence and then Aragon pointed to the alley on their right. "Stay out of alleys here abouts -- lots of thieves about. That shop there next to the alley -- belongs to a friend -- good fellow Dinn -- but a magician -- have to watch that side of him. Never have trusted that magic stuff. I’ll stick to my chemicals."

Their walk had just brought them around a jog in the road, that Rarm now realized, glancing back, must be some sort of guard tower on the main city wall.

 "Well, here we are," said Aragon, breaking Rarm out of his reverie. They had crossed the street to the opposite corner and pointing down one street Aragon explained with pride, "This whole block is my school, west to the alley, and south to the alley. Come, I’ll show you to your room, then you must come have supper with me tonight. Perhaps then I can fill you in about where you are and what I need for you to do."

The room was small, neat, and empty of everything but a bed and a small table. There was only one door in the south wall and one window facing an open square across the street to the north. A careful search revealed no hidden openings in the walls, ceiling, or floor. Inspection of the bed likewise yielded nothing, but the table was another matter. It held a small hollow space, accessible from beneath and slightly to the left of center. For now it was empty. Later, he decided, he might have need of it.

Having no change of clothes and no real need to clean up he stretched out on the bed and began to consider what else he might need in the way of clothing and armaments. If he was to be an alchemist perhaps he would be allowed to use more than a dagger. At least he intended to try. An accounting of his funds revealed several familiar coins. He might not be in Ryan, City State of the Overlord, this time, but he must be somewhere close because he found himself provided with a tidy little sum of coins of that realm -- over two hundred gold pieces worth if he had counted correctly. That was plenty with which to outfit himself for nearly anything Aragon might wish him to do.

The summons to supper was brought by a very young boy, perhaps five or six years old, who scampered off as soon as his message was delivered leaving Rarm to find his way alone back downstairs to Aragon’s quarters. He hoped this invitation to dine with the master was also going to be an opportunity to learn more of his mission here. As he reached the foot of the stairs Aragon himself waved Rarm into a softly lit sitting room where a light meal was laid out on the center table.

Later after much small talk and only confusing bits of information about the city and surrounding areas Aragon seemed ready to come to the point. "Our good Lord Erlic, Duke of Kralinor has requested from me a potion for which I must have certain very hard to obtain ingredients. At present all of this region is constantly at war with the non-humans and beasts which roam the land. Before we came and settled here there were many other cultures. The more evil among us still seek to use those of the old kind to gain power over the land and it is in Erlic’s mind to clean up a larger area in and around Modron. To this end he as requested a potion of goodness with which to transform his enemies. Such a potion scroll has been found and I am sure that I can duplicate it but for the need for special ingredients."

Late into the night Aragon talked on, with tales of the City State Ryan to the west and the trade connections Modron provided for the Overlord there. Finding himself back in another part of the same world eased Rarm’s mind. It also added another dimension to his existence here; old scores to unsettle him. Evil of many kinds stalked this world. Rarm would happily strike a blow against it in any way he could, and this time he would not be bound by the limits of the Sorcerer’s Guild.

At last Rarm sought to interrupt Aragon’s wanderings. "Know that I am a willing servant of Good, Master Aragon. With some of your tale I am already familiar. But now, let’s get down to the business at hand. Exactly what items do you wish me to acquire?"

 "Do you read, Rarm?" asked Aragon in a quiet tone, and at Rarm’s nod he rose and crossed his room to a small locked cabinet. Reaching inside he drew out a small scroll. On it was printed in a careful hand four items: a silver pearl, a fan of flower-of- blood, an egg of the dragon turtle, and prayer dust from the Temple of Modron.

 "If you have need of it you may take this list with you," Aragon said in the still quiet tone. "It would be better if you did not."

 "What is the flower-of-blood?" asked Rarm as he waved away the list.

Returning the scroll to safety Aragon answered at length. "It is the deepest red coral of the Estuary of Roglaroon, wherein you may find all of the items. The flower of blood is said to be found most often near the old wreck. It is said also that the old wreck is heavily guarded by the enchanted dead who remain there as guardians of her treasure."

 "The only known place where any silver pearls have ever been found is inside the giant clam which lies on a line between the old temple ruins and the village of Crespar, whose inhabitants think of the Clam Canyon as a holy place."

 "No one knows the whereabouts of the Lair of the Dragon Turtle, although many have reported seeing dragon turtles in the estuary. It is doubtful that the dragon turtle will take kindly to such a theft."

 "Still, hazardous as all of these items may be to acquire, the Temple of Modron will contain Mermen of Crespar and underwater those are not to be trifled with."

 "What sort of creatures are they?’ asked Rarm. The Mermen were legend in Ryan, sea monsters to scare children with.

 "Why, they aren’t creatures at all," Aragon’s surprise was most evident. "They are men such as we, except for their feet and hands and their ability to breathe underwater. Oh, they have a slightly different skin tone, hair color, but such things are superficial, and of little import. They have many powers which we lack, or have lost, and they are very intelligent and very loyal to their Goddess. They will not take any invasion of their temple lightly."

 "But how can I get these things from under the sea? How can I possibly stay under water long enough?" Rarm knew he was a mediocre swimmer at best.

 "It is said that an old witch who lives by the sea may be persuaded to mix a dish which, if you can stomach it will give you twenty four hours of ability to extract oxygen from the sea water with your lungs. How reliable this potion is I do not know."

CHAPTER TWO

Sunlight through the window woke him and Rarm rolled eagerly out of bed. Outside his window lay a whole city and even a world he had yet to tire of. Today he would spend getting his bearings and acquiring a few necessary pieces of equipment. Across from his window lay the open market where hawkers were already beginning to set up their wares. As good a place to start as any.

Hurrying down stairs, he stepped out the door. The shadows of buildings and walls caused crisp air pockets while the bright patches of sunlight warned of a hot day to come. Sea smells prevailed the air. Wandering across to the open market, he selected some sort of fried roll for breakfast. While paying a few coppers he inquired of the vendor the location of a good weapons shop and was directed down the market street and around the corner to the right.

On his way he passed the Kellarbari tavern and an armorer’s shop, while across the street left he saw the Mists of Morn Wine Shop. At the end of the street and across Rampant Real Street lay an imposing jail.

Going into the Weapons Shop, Rarm outlined a light rapier like sword which he would have made for himself and paid in advance half price for the acquiring of material. He also requested a silver helm of Shambley the Armorer next door. He was told he would have to wait until the next day to pick them up.

Having been so easily parted from a substantial amount of gold made him stop and think about his finances. But no matter. Only possessions could aid him where he was going, not gold pieces. Of course he did intend to keep enough by to eat for awhile and he would surely need some coins to sample Esdelia’s fare.

Well, there was certainly no more he could do today about his weaponry. Wandering on up the streets lost in thought he turned a corner and almost knocked another man down, only to be instantly the recipient of a string of curses followed by a flying fist.

Either the fist was ill timed or he was faster than he had remembered. In either case he somehow missed the fate of a smashed face and managed even to grab his opponents arm pulling him even further off balance and dropping him headlong to the ground. As the stunned sailor began to curse himself back to his feet Rarm glanced up to see a large group of similarly clad men staring at him with less than love in their eyes. Suddenly it seemed that leaving might be the best course, so he stepped back through the door that now stood half open so conveniently behind him.

Closing the door he turned to find himself in a room full of bunks and sleep tousled men. "Say fellows, there wouldn’t happen to be a back way out of here would there," he said with a grin, but no one smiled. Then the door came crashing open and he leapt for the nearest chair with hopes of bashing it over the oncoming sailor’s head.

This time he wasn’t fast enough, as a blinding light exploded in his head followed by blissful blackness.

Consciousness returned to him strangely. At first he though he was falling forward, but then he realized that he was being dragged stumbling down the cobbled street in the early morning light.

 "He’s coming around. Hurry up lad we haven’t got all day."

 "Yeah, that was quite a row you started back there. Kings men will be finishing it soon enough and better for us if we don’t get caught in it."

Swiftly they half carried him through a shadowy door and deposited him behind some barrels in what seemed to be some sort of dimly lit storage space. "Not a sound now, ya hear." With that one of them disappeared while the other knelt and held him to silence with his eyes.

Old Theark had the right of it, alright, though Jame, first mate of the Pralendor. The stone around this man’s neck was just like that worn by Slakon and such a stone only served Good, was even reputed to burn the Evil. Then Theark was by his side and once more they made of lift Rarm, but he pushed them off and tried unsuccessfully to stand on his own. The older man waved him back and grabbed him up causing the world to spin and go dim for a moment. Next thing he knew there were tramping noises over his head and a man’s hand clamped roughly over his mouth.

There in the darkness Rarm tried to wait and relax. More sounds of scraping and shuffling accompanied by angry voices came from above followed by more tramping around and then silence. Still they waited.

Untold time passed and then a light sprang up in the space ahead of him and he saw a man descending a staircase. His mouth was released and he was lowered to the floor. The man with the lamp knelt beside him, lifted his necklace and stared long at the gem. Then he nodded. "Welcome to the house of Slakon," he rumbled, then smiled broadly, "though usually I welcome my guests through the front door." Then he turned serious again. ‘We must see to your head, my friend, then we will talk.

Rarm leaned back and gave a soft sigh of relief. The brew Slakon had brought was quickly easing the throb in his head and he was beginning to feel like himself again.

 "Alright, first what happened back there, and then I’ll answer your questions if I can." Rarm waited, hoping to gain time by taking the initiative. He still wasn’t sure what his new ‘friends’ had planned for him.

The one called Slakon only shrugged and the younger of the two sailors answered. "My name is Jame. My comrade Theark and I serve aboard the ship Pralendor, a trading vessel not overly well known in these waters. We were recruiting in that dormitory, a kind of a way station for out of work sailors, when you came in. By the way, there is no back way out, "he grinned. "Anyway, we know the reputation of those sailors. They are WSC men and a bad lot, not at all well liked by the independent sailors. They had their hands full two seconds after they came through that door. Theark here saw your pendant as you dropped and told me. No one much was paying attention so we just pulled you out and made fast away down the street. Apparently someone reported seeing us come in but Slakon here showed the King’s men on out the front with a tale that we had probably gone on through while he was still asleep. It being early morn they believed him right enough."

Jame fell silent and waited. Rarm looked from one man to another. Nothing on their faces hinted of any guile or intent to harm and suddenly Rarm felt a very strong need for friends such as these. "I owe you a very great deal. Even more than my own life, though I don’t suspect you’ll understand. What can I do for you in return? What would you have of me?"

Slakon nodded, "See, it is as I told you. He could not wear the pendant were he of evil."

Rarm looked down at the peaceful blue stone. It seemed almost to glow. ‘What is it? The pendant means something to you." He looked up at Slakon. "I only know that I don’t want to take it off. Do you want it? Is that it?"

 "No, no my friend, Slakon said. Pulling at a chain around his own neck he revealed an identical pendant. "Even though you do not understand its power these stones are the same. While you wear it you cannot drown. Once in a brawl another sailor recognized mine and grabbed it in an attempt to steal it. It seared his hand. It may not be taken, only given, and then only to one who follows good ways. Still, it most certainly marks you as one who would stamp out evil and so should be kept well hid.

 "Now, friend, who are you and what brings you to our port?"

 "My name is Rarm and I was called here to perform certain tasks for a Master Aragon. Do you know of him?"

 "All Modron knows of Master Aragon, of course," said Slakon. "When you say called, I think somehow that you mean summoned. Tell me, who was your actual summoner?"

Rarm felt this was some sort of further test. "Her name is Dode, I think, though I know no more than that about her. Aragon seemed most anxious that we not meet."

 "Ah," chuckled Slakon. "Perhaps the good Master Aragon feared the beautiful Dode might interfere with his plans. Very well, then. Dode is also one of us, as is your Master, though they do not always see eye to eye. Are you to get the ingredients for him then? He asked me but I am not a stranger and that is a part of the formula. It was felt that. my help would not do. Perhaps, though, I may now serve by keeping you safe through your ordeal, if, that is, you would have me?"

 "Gladly." Rarm smiled, liking this new friend very much.

 "Good then. My friends," he now addressed the two sailors, "perhaps it would be best if you three acquired capes to make you less conspicuous and if you also helped Rarm here to get a few things we may be needing." He winked at Jame who nodded.

 "Leave him to us and you keep a good ear to the ground. We’ll see you tonight at the meet."

With that they led Rarm upstairs and out through the front of the tavern.

 "Are you sure you’re up to this?" asked Theark.

The older man’s concern warmed him as the sparse sunlight failed to do. "Of course. Which ship is yours?" he asked to be friendly.

 "The tall-masted one yonder." Rarm followed Jame’s nod to see at first only a confusion of poles and ropes reaching into the sky. Then he realized that one of the ships did stand much taller than the others and real interest stirred in him. "Why so much bigger than the others?" He followed Jame’s lead around the corner but without taking his gaze from that very large ship.

 "Oh, we are an ocean going vessel while most of these ply a coastal or river trade. You need more sails to go the open sea." Jame smiled down at the smaller outworlder. "So ships are that new to you?"

 "This kind are legends in my world. Besides, I’ve never even lived near the sea."

 "Well near the sea is sometimes rougher than on the sea so you’d best stay heads up while you walk around this port. Save your thoughtful ways for later."

They were turning another corner and Rarm did begin to look around. A large building with the look of a small fortress loomed off to the left. It was set within the city walls in what appeared to be an open ‘space.

 "That yonder would be the palace I think," spoke Theark by his shoulder.

 "Aye," said Jame, "I saw it from the ship as we docked."

They walked along under the walls’ of the palace for a fair distance, but all was quiet now, with few people about. They continued to hug the buildings on their right and when Rarm asked about crossing they shushed him. He didn’t want to have to go past the jail, but at least he now knew where he was. Just as they neared the jail Jame urged them across to Market Street. From there they went on into the Open Market which was now quite busy. Twice Jame dragged them behind stalls to avoid the wandering militia, but soon they were able to cross into another shop.

This place was vast, larger than most warehouses, for this building held the House of Damon, Outfitter Unlimited. Rarm stood near the entrance in stunned silence.

Jame quickly hissed in his ear, "Close your mouth," and urged him toward the more crowded rear of the store. The shop was already fairly busy with sailors brought by Market day to purchase supplies. Theark made quickly for a rack of cloaks and pulled down three of the common dark blue most worn about the city. Handing one to each of his friends he settled his own about his shoulders. "This should help us blend in a bit better."

 "Here now," came a quiet voice from behind them. ‘Were you three planning to blend your way out of here too?"

 "Hush yourself friend Damon," answered Jame clasping the hand of the big man who had joined them. "We’ve had a small run in with the local police and don’t wish to be too conspicuous. We also need quite an assortment of goods, special things, as it were."

 "I see, I see. Would this be Aragon’s friend? I think it would. Alright, downstairs with the lot of you. I’ll join you shortly."

Jame led them behind some crates and through one into a flight of stairs. "That Damon is a hard one to figure. Maybe he‘s with us, and maybe not, but he’s definitely against King and WSC."

As they descended the stair Rarm became aware of a dim light ahead. The walls about them were cold and he was glad for the warmth of the rough woven cloak. The light brightened so that he could easily make out Jame’s silhouette ahead of him. They approached some sort of turn in the passage and soon found themselves in a stone hallway fairly well lit with torches in the wall.

Jame hurried down this passage as one who knew where he went and soon brought them into a large chamber.

Rarm looked about the huge stone cave in wonder. The whole floor was littered with randomly placed piles of assorted goods. Most of the piles appeared to have literally been dumped and left to be there until dust had settled on a few. In some places, nearest to the door, the piles began to overlap and some seemed heaped on top of others.

Rarm approached one of the nearest piles and pulled from it what looked like a broken cross bow, the handle only still remaining. This one was made of some light metal, however, and on further inspection he recognized it as some sort of spear gun.

 "Those are fairly common in these parts. One shouldn’t venture into the Roglaroon without one," said Theark.

Jame nodded, "Dig on through that pile for spears for it, while we try to find another for Slakon. Chances are he has one, but why take chances? Keep watch for special boots. They are formed to last underwater, and will protect you from the coral." "Do we need anything else special?"

 "Only a peculiar shaped dagger for cutting coral."

Rarm had instinctively headed for the right pile or had chanced upon it. One of the packs contained all he needed, knife, belt, boots, even short pants made of some sort of pale yellow hide, to match the boots. Beneath it he found a hide case containing 20 of the thin, hard spears, again of that unusual metal, each tipped with a blue metal which reminded him of the blue coins he carried.

The pack also contained three small bags designed to fasten to the belt, and three smaller belts which he did not recognize. He determined to bargain for the whole kit as a set.

Jame came back with much the same collection, and quickly explained that the smaller straps were to fix the quiver to one leg and the knife to his arm, two for the knife and one for the bottom of the quiver, the top threading through his waist belt. To add to those he dug through Rarm’s pile until he found a sling which fit the spear gun.

 ‘We have things here for Slakon, plus some other odds and ends we may need later on." Jame winked at Theark. "Perhaps I’d better go get our host. He seems to have forgotten us. "With those words, Jame headed back up the passage.

While they waited, Rarm began to rummage around again. He picked up several flasks before he found the one he sought. Most were full, or still wet with oil or wine but this one seemed clean and dry and empty, almost as if it had never been used. It was pale blue and beautifully made, and fit neatly into one of his bags.

Jame and Damon returned then and they began to haggle over the cost. Eventually Jame ended up spending less than Rarm because of the unusual quality of his spear gun and the extra high cost of the flask. Damon claimed it to be a Cresparan flask, able to withstand the sea, made for carrying dry things and keeping out the liquid instead of keeping them in. As Jame seemed to find this tale believable Rarm paid the price with no more than customary complaints.

Then when they were ready to go Damon led them to another passage hidden at the back of the cave by one of the several larger carpets that hung there. "Keep to the right hand passage. The first cave on that side is under Master Aragon’s. We’ll see you at the meeting tonight."

TO BE CONTINUED