Chapter 23

"Sorry to interrupt..." Margaret said with a smile. "There are more private places, but maybe everyone should stay with others right now?"

"No, you're right," Lynna said. She took him by the hand. "Come on, Stott, let's go find a place to sit inside." Margaret followed them back inside.

The scene inside had been transformed yet again. Gone were the mattresses for birthing mothers. There were no obvious wounded laying about recovering. The room was crowded with people and the room was festive.

Several people about town had musical instruments, and a few off boats and ships did as well. They had gathered together into an impromptu band, and were trying to play together. They had too wide a range of styles and tastes, and not all were as proficient as the others. No one took it with anything other than good humor, and they were making a show of performing badly and laughing at themselves. The crowd was laughing as well. There was singing and laughing and dancing.

"Not quite like any town celebration I remember," he said. "No," Lynna laughed. Should we be this relaxed and comfortable? The display made Stott more nervous than relaxed, but he tried not to let it show.

He found himself thinking of other town celebrations over the years. Usually he had as a rule sat off to the side somewhere to watch. Here there was nowhere to sit off to the side. Nowhere to hide, that's what it comes down to, isn't it? Lynna still had his hand and was leading him towards the makeshift stage. He wanted to ask what she had in mind, but the words didn't come out.

Stott's throat went dry as they headed into the cluster of people stomping and dancing just in front of the musicians.

I can't dance, he thought nervously. Does she want to dance? What do I do? People shouldn't be dancing, it will wear them out! How can they stay awake if they are worn out from dancing? Maybe if I mention that, she won't want to dance.

"Lynna..." his voice was lost in the crowd, as people nearby sang along to the music in loud, hearty voices. This all feels wrong.

Much to his relief, she led them through the crowd entirely, heading towards the far wall and Emilee Rayton, who was cradling a newborn in her arms. Her husband, Josh, was sitting next to her with one arm around her waist and the other reaching in and fidgeting with the blankets around the screaming infant. Unlike the gaity in the rest of the room, the couple both looked concerned.

"Hey, Emmy! How's the baby?" she asked, crouching down to try and get a better look. "Did you name him yet?"

"Um... hey, Lynna," Emilee replied. Stott couldn't help but notice her hug the baby a little closer as she looked at Lynna with some skepticism. "He's fine. Really. Just fine." She bounced the baby, looking anxious to have it stop crying. Josh seemed to move in closer, as if to protect them from something.

"Can I see? I've been so busy, I'm sorry I haven't been able to come see you sooner..."

"It's okay, Lynna, really," Emilee interrupted. "I'm sure you've got plenty of things to do now. We're fine." Emilee's eyes darted around the room before looking back down at the blanketed bundle wriggling in her arms.

"Emmy? What's wrong? Is there something wrong with the baby, or...?" she trailed off, worry washing over her face again.

"She said we're fine Lynna!" Josh said, a little too loudly. Some of the nearby people turned to look, and he lowered his voice again. "Your magicks aren't needed here. You've done quite enough already." He looked up at Lynna with dark, angry eyes.

"Hey, there's no need to get upset..." Stott said, taking a step between them. "Emilee, I thought you and Lynna were friends?"

"Yeah, I know." Emilee said softly. Stott could see her eyes welling with tears. He thought she looked scared.

"What do you mean, I've done enough already, Josh? What are you talking about?" Lynna asked.

"Josh, I still don't think..." tears flowed freely down Emilee's face as trailed off.

"You stay out of this Jacobs. This is none of your concern. And I'd feel a lot better if you stayed away from my family now that you've murdered your own!" Josh stood up, his voice getting loud again, and the music happened to die off as he finished his sentence. Suddenly everyone in the room turned to look at them. Stott felt his heart drop to his stomach and all the blood leave his face.

"Josh! What's come over you?" Lynna protested.

"Stay away from us, witch! We don't want your black magicks anywhere near our son!" Josh moved forward and shoved Lynna backwards towards the crowd. Stott lost hold of her hand and she fell to the floor as people parted behind her, getting out of the way. The look of shock on her face was unbearable, and he felt anger flood through him as he turned back to Josh.

"Josh, please!" Emilee's voice pleaded as Stott's fist crossed the distance to Josh's jaw where it landed solidly, sending the man backwards against the wall.

Josh quickly came back, and Stott felt the wind go out of him as Josh hit him squarely in the stomach. That was the point when it occurred to Stott to realize that Josh was bigger than he was. But it didn't seem to matter. He saw Lynna standing up out of the corner of his eye as he turned and hit Josh again, this time getting him near the eye. Josh retaliated, and Stott felt something in his nose snap as the fist pounded hard across his face. He though he could feel blood dripping down from it, but stayed focused on Josh, trying to decide where to hit the man next. In the background, he thought he heard the crowd chanting something and people circled around to get a better view.

"NO!" Lynna screamed, stepping between Stott and Josh. Suddenly Stott felt himself shoved backwards by an invisible force of some kind, eminating directly from Lynna. She saw Josh fall backwards into the wall as well.

"This must stop NOW!" Agmar's voice boomed across the room, and the crowd fell silent.. Everyone turned and the crowd parted as the wizard made his way to stand near Lynna. Stott wiped his nose with his shirt as he scrambled back up to his feet. Looking at the blood smeared across his sleeve, he suddenly felt foolish.

"What is wrong with the child, Emilee?" Agmar knelt down next to the mother and child, speaking gently. The baby was still screaming. Stott took a step to move closer to Lynna, but came up against an invisible barrier. He tested it with his hand and it shimmered slightly, revealing that it encircled him entirely. He could see Josh testing a similar barrier as well.

"He won't stop crying. And he's got something strange in his eyes. He was fine earlier, but..." her eyes were wide and terrified as she looked at Agmar. "He napped," she finally said. She clutched the baby tighter to her body, as a murmur spread across the crowd.

"Lynna, it's alright, I'm calm. You can let me out," Stott said as Agmar peered down at the baby.

"What's going on?" Margaret asked, stepping out of the crowd.

"The baby fell asleep," Agmar explained, "as babies will. Like the rest of us, once asleep, he was vulnerable to the evil."

"No! It can't be!" Emmilee insisted.

"Do not worry, it is not permanent, and will probably end shortly. I do not think the evil can directly harm the infant. When it decides that the infant is not strong enough to cause any real damage I think it will release its grip on the child. As for the child, he will not remember anything of it."

Emmilee looked reassured. Josh kept pushing against the force bubble around him with one hand while he held his other hand over the blackening welt at his eye. Stott held his nose, trying to stop the bleeding. He would've pounded me... that was stupid.

"It's ending already," Lynna said, reaching down and touching the baby's forehead. The baby stopped screaming, and Emmilee hugged her new son close.

"Lynna?" Stott asked nasilly.

She turned towards him with a look that he suspected was intended to be stern. Her expression melted to one of sympathy.

"Oh, Stott..." She came over to him, and he suspected that she let the bubble around him go as she did. "I know you were trying to protect me, Stott."

She reached out and touched his hand over his nose. He felt warmth wash through his face. When she was done he pulled his hand from his nose, which was no longer bleeding or hurt.

"I have to take care of Josh too," she told him, turning towards Josh who was now hovering protectively over Emilee while Margaret pulled the blankets away to inspect the baby. Lynna walked over and put her hand up towards Josh's eye, and he suddenly slapped her wrist away from him.

"Don't touch me." His voice was cold and hard. The look in his eyes was filled with hatred.

"But I just --"

"Lynna," Agmar's voice somehow managed to be both stern and gentle at the same time. "Let the man be."

Lynna stepped back and they stood there, watching, while Margaret proclaimed the infant to be healthy and unharmed. Emilee wrapped him back up and smiled with apparent relief.

"His name is Jeremy," she said, looking brightly up at Lynna.

"That's enough. We're leaving." Josh said.

"What?" Emilee looked astonished as he helped her to stand with the baby in her arms.

"What?" Lynna echoed.

"We're going to Bentz's warehouse, Em. We're not going to stay here with these wizards," he spat and said it as if he were swearing, "continuing to put us and our child in danger. I've had enough."

"But Josh --" Emilee protested, her face going pale.

"Choose, Em. You can stay here and put your trust in the black magicks they're using, or you can be safe with the man you married. Either way, my son is coming with me." He pulled the blanketed child out of her arms, as she stood there with her mouth hanging open in shock.

"Thank you for your help Margaret," he said abruptly before turning and striding quickly out of the room and presumably from the inn.

"Gods help us..." Emilee stood there for a moment, looking faint, before turning towards Lynna and Agmar. "I'm so sorry. But he is my husband. And I can't leave my child..."

"Oh, Emmy," Lynna said, giving her a hug. "Go. I understand."

"He thinks you two are the cause of all this," she said quickly to Lynna and Agmar. "He's not the only one to think that. I know it's not true though. I know we'll be with Jacob Bentz's group now, but..." she turned to look at Agmar, her eyes pleading. "Please don't leave us to die. My son's life has only just begun." She turned away and ran out of the room sobbing.

"I..." Agmar's voice was barely audible as he watched her departure. "I'll do all I can." Stott saw him sigh heavily, an obvious sadness weighing on him. Lynna turned back towards Stott and he could see tears streaming down her cheeks as well. He stepped in and pulled her into his arms, suddenly not caring if the whole room was watching them or not.

"Emmilee..." Margaret said futilely as the girl hurried off after her husband.

"How much danger is the child in now, Agmar?" she said next.

The crowd around them pressed in, wanting to know what was going on. Agmar addressed them, and Stott wondered if it was also partly to avoid Margaret's question.

"The evil wants to create mistrust, and anger, and conflict, exactly like what just happened. The way we will beat it is by remaining calm...and remaining ourselves. I do not think that any of you is violent by nature, but every one of us has that potential within us. That potential is what feeds the evil, what drives it."

By now the crowd had fallen quiet. It almost seemed too easy to Stott, and he wondered if maybe the wizard was cheating and using some magical means to pacify the crowd. Just moments ago the crowd had been practically cheering on the fight, and now they were listening quietly. Too easy indeed...

"I know that several of you are less than comfortable with the presence of a wizard here," Agmar continued. "Yet I suspect that few of you have met one before--knowingly, at least."

Agmar took Lynna's hand and led her towards the middle of the room. Stott followed, not wanting to be left behind. In the middle of the room Agmar stopped. "Stott, would you please be so kind as to bring me a chair?"

Stott nodded and moved through the crowd as quickly as he could without bumping into anyone. Most people let him through easily.

"So it occurs to me that perhaps many of you have questions about magic, about what it can and cannot do. Perhaps some of you believe you are supposed to be afraid of magic and those who can use it. So I would like to offer you the chance to have your questions answered. I would like to allow you the chance to see that I am not so different from you, and that--for those of you who have lived so long in this town--that Lynna here is not a different person than the girl you knew just a few days ago."

Stott brought the one of the dining room chairs back as quickly as he could, and Agmar gestured towards a spot on the floor just in front of the makeshift stage. Lynna sat down on the edge of the stage, just behind it, looking distinctly unhappy. Stott took a spot next to her and put his arm around her. She leaned in, but she could feel that she was tense. He squeezed her arm gently with his hand, hoping his presence might help.

Agmar settled into the chair, and surveyed the crowd. Many stood there, looking surprised. Some sat down on the floor, as if settling in for the story. Some looked at their shoes, scuffing them nervously on the floor. A few others had more suspicious looks, as if they expected everything he told them to be a lie. Somewhere nearby, a baby started crying, breaking the stillness that had settled over the room. Someone else cleared their throat. Margaret settled down on the other side of Agmar, also facing the crowd and sitting on the makeshift stage.

"Perhaps you should explain where the magic comes from first," Margaret suggested.

"Alright," Agmar replied, giving Margaret a nod. "I know that some of you may believe that I am calling upon dark spirits or the power of demons. This is entirely untrue. The energy I use is all around you right now. It is part of the earth and the air and all of us. We believe it is the essence of the world itself, and there are areas of the world where there are openings, lines of energy coming directly to the surface from within the earth, where the essence is stronger. People hold this essence as well, and it is through this that we know the energy replenishes itself again if it is used."

"Wizards, such as myself, primarily use the energy from within," Agmar touched his hand to his chest. "When more energy is required for a task, we look first to the earth and what energy is eminating off of it, into the air around us. If we are near one of the lines of energy, we can accomplish greatly powerful things with magic alone. In such places, magic items can be forged that hold the energy for a specific use at a another time or place."

"If we are not near such a place, as I am not right now, we must do what we can with what we have. Sometimes we can borrow the essence of the others around us if we need to, but it is rare that we do such a thing. I would not do it here, for example, as the essence within each of you is part of what helps you hold the evil at bay. There are laws of nature to be respected, even in times of dire need."

"Those who practice what you would call the darker magicks, however, do not respect those laws. They will siphon whatever energy they can to do their bidding. There are some who would suck the earth dry of it if they could. It is they who have left such a bad reputation for those like myself to battle against."

"Each individual wizard has a different level of sensitivity to the energy within and immediately around themself. Some can feel it and make more use of than others. There are some who can only see how to use it in certain ways. I have known very powerful wizards who could only use magic for healing because they could not manage to manipulate it in any other way."

"The area of the world I come from does not have restrictions on people who have the ability to manipulate the energy, to use magic. There, they consider it a gift, and children are watched for signs of such ability so that they may be trained from a young age. I am considered to have a formidable ability, although I am not the most powerful wizard alive, I assure you. I began my training the day after my sixth birthday."

"What would happen if you pulled this... energy, essence, whatever... from one of us?" a voice from the crowd asked.

"You would feel it if I did. There would be a sudden feeling of tiredness, faintness, and if I drew on it heavily you would feel dizzy and possibly fall unconscious," he answered.

The crowd rustled restlessly at that answer, and Agmar put up a hand, stalling any comments.

"There is very little likelihood that I will need to do such a thing. I have, however, had extensive training on how to do it and if I were to have no other choice I can assure you that no harm would come to you if I did."

"What's to say that Lynna couldn't hurt someone?" someone asked.

"She knows only how to draw off herself and the energy directly around her so far. I have not taught her how to draw off of others yet. The evil has brought an additional energy with it as well. The air around us resonates with power right now, and we are able to draw upon that first."

"Isn't that power evil?"

"The power itself is neither good nor evil. It is all in how it is used," Agmar answered.

"Won't the evil thing try and take our energy? Suck us dry?"

"The evil that attacks us was once bound by a group of powerful wizards, from my understanding of the texts I studied before coming here. But their spell could only hold it so well, and every 250 years the evil has this one chance to affect the world. It can only move in a straight line, circling the world until it returns to the place it is physically bound at. Each time, however, its strength seems to be increasing. I am hoping to follow it to its prison where perhaps other wizards and myself can strengthen the spell that holds it so that it cannot escape."

"It is not here, physically, though. Which means its ability to directly attack us is limited. I have no reason to believe it can draw energy off of anyone. It can try to control your emotions, it can try to use you if you let it or are unable to prevent it by falling asleep. Tomorrow, when it reaches its peak, it will make the objects around us dangerous as well, and I believe the weather will be increasingly rough."

"Some people are saying you brought this thing down on us. That it would've passed right by or not come here at all if you hadn't come." Stott couldn't see who said it, the voice came from pretty far back in the room.

"Some of you have heard the last entries in the log book from the ship Stott and his father and brother found. Some of you have heard what Stott went through when they found it. That ship was merely in the path. I assure you there was no wizard there to draw the evil there. But it happened regardless. They were merely in the path. This town is also on the path. As are others.

"If there had been no magic in this town everything that has already happened would still have happened, and more. The eggs would still have hatched the way they did. Animals would still have attacked, whether newborn foals or dogs on the streets. The baby born twisted into a demon at Lloyd's inn would have been one of a dozen or so.

"Mary would have died. The woman at the barn next to Mary at least would still have died. How many of you would still be hurt if Lynna had not healed you? How many has she healed? Twenty? Thirty?"

Stott looked around at the crowd. Lynna was looking around as well, and some of the people she looked at smiled at her, and some looked away. Most of those who looked away looked embarrassed rather than afraid or resentful.

"Being on the coast where you are you have probably seen your share of storms. Every fall there is probably a group of them that hits, right? Those storms follow consistent paths. Each year the come from the same direction, do they not? The evil was no more drawn here than those storms are. They all just follow a path."

Agmar shrugged at the end, and Stott looked around at the faces. Mostly he saw people nodding with understanding. There were still some faces that looked like they didn't want to understand or didn't want to accept. He supposed that some of them would simply refuse to accept it. Some of them were probably too stuck in their ways.

"So how did you know this was coming?" someone asked.

About a year ago I received word from an old friend regarding a finding of texts and other items that had been dug up at what may have been a temple for a reclusive group of magic users who lived about 500 years ago. The most we had known previously of these wizards was that their entire order was summarily wiped from existance around that time. A lot of what was found required translation, something that I dabble with from time to time when I want a break from travel. I was intrigued and joined him and some others in sorting through what was found."

"Amongst the ruins were the belongings of another wizard who died there about 230 years ago, while searching for the very ruins we were unearthing. Within his writings he compiled the accounts he had collected of the survivors who had been in the path of this thing the last time it circled the globe. He had also found texts from 500 years ago, which he had been working on translating. They spoke of the order of wizards and of how a terrible evil had been brought forth by a powerful but dark wizard who was immediately killed by the very evil he had summoned to do his bidding. The order supposedly came out of recluse, traveling across the world in the quest to destroy it or send it back from whence it came, but they were unsuccessful in their attempts. The evil did turn its attention for the time, however, and began destroying their order, one wizard at a time."

"The texts I translated spoke of wizards who bravely gave their lives to distract the evil, and draw its attention, while the others of the order searched for a way to stop it. In the end, the best they could do was bind it. The last twelve members left of their order supposedly went to seal the bind with their own blood, and were never heard from again. The wizard who had been collecting the documents surmised that they had succeeded in binding it, but he reconstructed some of the spell they supposedly used and determined that every 250 years the evil would have a chance to circumvent the world at a weakened point in the binding. He had made detailed maps of the path it took the last time."

Agmar paused to wait for the next question, and Stott looked around the room. He saw the next speaker, an older woman who lived a few houses down from his own.

"Where are the other wizards who were translating with you? Why aren't they here to help us too?"

"Yours is not the only town in the direct path of this thing," he answered her. "Two of them remain to search through the ruins for more information that might help us. Four have gone ahead to warn others of the danger - there is one large city in the path where thousands could be caught in this - and one other has returned home for help. If we can find out where the thing is bound, maybe we can strengthen the spell somehow and stop this from happening again in another 250 years."

"Where's home?"

Stott nearly jumped at the question, since it was Lynna who asked it. For some reason he hadn't expected her to ask any questions. Agmar turned and gave her a strange look before answering as if he, too, hadn't expected her to be asking questions.

"I travel a lot, so I do not have a home in the same sense that some might consider it. However, the city of Pirshenia is where I consider my home to be. It is across the sea, in the very heart of Rayehden. On the eastern edge of that city is a place that is known to many as the Hall of Glimmer. In that place is both a school and a library for all things magical. That is where I consider my home. There is always a room for me whenever I am there anyway." He gave her a smile before turning back to look for the next question.

"So how can you tell who can learn magic and who can't?" a younger sounding voice asked.

"For the most part the gift is inherited, although it is not always so straightforward. Some are born with stronger potential, and will learn it by themselves. The strongest I've ever met was moving toys to herself before she was even crawling, although that is exceptionally rare. I was using some of it on my own by about age four.

"More common are those with about the potential Lynna has, or perhaps a bit more. In those cases they typically will start using it themselves by accident by age twelve or so. For them, the sooner they are taught the more ability they will likely end up having.

"And there are some who have smaller amounts of potential. Most of them will never be able to use it without training. Perhaps as many as one in one hundred people has that level of potential. Greater potentials are, of course, less common than that.

"Lynna is, I believe, the only one here with her level of potential. Statistically, there could be one or two here who could have learned it, but haven't. The potential is one that fades over time, so there could be adults here who were born with the potential but lost it because they were not found and trained."

Stott found himself wondering what he could see many others thinking. Could I have been born with it? Could I have been a wizard if I had been trained early? One or two looked disturbed by the notion. A few looked disappointed. There were also some that looked around themselves almost fearfully.

"So how strong is Lynna then? What can she do?" someone inevitably asked.

Stott felt Lynna tensing up more next to him, and he gave her arm another squeeze. He noticed that several members of the crowd were watching her as intently as most were watching Agmar.

"Well that is a bit deceptive right now, as she is using borrowed power," Agmar replied. "However, from what I have seen seen so far, she has a natural empathy towards others and most of her magic ability draws through that, giving her additional strength when she uses magic to help people, as with healing. Other magicks, like creating a light source, something she has recently been working on, are a little trickier for her." He demonstrated, creating a small glowing ball of light that hovered a few inches over his hand. He then blew gently across his hand and the ball seemed to drift off into the air towards the ceiling before winking out of existence.

"As I explained to Lynna just yesterday actually, the methods of using magic differ somewhat between men and women as well. Most women have more empathic tendencies to begin with, I think it comes with the ability to bear children. Men, on the other hand, tend to take a more direct approach. Instead of calling the magic to do their bidding, men command it. That sometimes means that a woman can get a more subtle or precise task accomplished, but men can acquire more raw force if needed."

"Overall, I would say that Lynna is about average in power, having an area where she is stronger but not being excluded from the potential to do other tasks as well. With training, she could be a reasonably strong healer one day, but she will likely always struggle in certain other areas of magic."

"How powerful are you in comparison?" another person asked.

Agmar paused a moment before answering, and Stott had a feeling he was searching for the right thing to say to put people at ease.

"In the world there are twenty wizards who are known to be the most powerful and skilled and consider what we do to be more of a calling than anything else. Both men and women are among those twenty. I have the honor of being one of those twenty. I am not the most powerful of them, but neither am I the least."

"What's the most powerful thing you could do?" one boy's voice asked.

"I do not honestly know. I have been told that I have the potential to do some very powerful things if I wanted to, but I have never desired to find out just how far my limits are. Such power should be consciously controlled and respected, and only drawn upon if the need is great. Also, just as lightning destoys a tree if it strikes, too much power drawn through one person in a single moment could hurt or even kill them."

"Well, what's the most powerful thing you've ever done then?" the same boy asked instead. Stott saw that it was one of the boys who Bruckertt took care of, and was suprised to see the boy here since the harbormaster had gone with Bentz.

A look passed over Agmar's face. He couldn't be sure, but Stott thought he recognized a sadness.

"Perhaps that story would be best left for another time," he answered softly.

"What happens if you fall asleep and the evil uses you like you've been saying? Will that mean it can use your magic on us?" The man asked it in an challenging tone, as if he was sure he already knew the answer.

"The short answer is no, magic is controlled by the mind. When the evil controls people asleep it is more as a puppet. The mind is not participating, so the evil cannot make the body do anything that the evil does not know how to do. It could not make a sleeping person play music, for example, and it does not have access to knowledge and memories.

"What the evil can do, however, is influence our moods to manipulate us. The fight between Stott and Josh was a good example. Both of them were acting out of character. In that case the evil was not controlling, but rather encouraging. Neither of them would necessarily have behaved like that normally." Stott shrank back, trying to avoid the extra eyes upon him. Lynna put her hand on his and he was torn between still wanting to hide from them and wanting to look brave for her.

"Yet the greatest danger lies with those who willingly let the evil have them. That can happen when one simply gives up on a situation, or it can happen if someone wants it to happen--someone willingly succumbing through jealousy or anger. That is what happened with Lloyd Marks. That is what happened when Stott broke down on his father's boat. For a time he lost his mind--quite literally, in fact. The evil used Stott to kill his own brother, it was not something he did."

Now Stott did not know whether to hide or bolt. Some people looked at him accusingly, some with pity, some with fear, and some perhaps apologetically. He desperately wished he was not so prominently next to Agmar. But there was nowhere to go.

"Now, before anyone asks it--and I am certain someone would--I believe that once that has happened to a person, that if they survive it and come back, that they are more resistant to it happening again. I think that it would take something rather extreme for that to happen to Stott again."

"There is a downside to that for Stott, however," Agmar continued. "The evil is learning as it nears. I had not expected it to be so aware of those it was hurting, but it now knows Stott. After myself and Lynna, it sees Stott as a threat to its goals, and may strive harder to get rid of that threat."

For a moment, Stott was frozen as the entire room did look at him. He felt Lynna give his hand a squeeze as the words that Agmar had just said slowly arranged and made sense in his mind. It considers me a threat? So it wants to kill me like it wants to kill Lynna? It was all he could do to keep his face calm.

"Of course that is why Stott is not grouped with the rest of the people here. Stott, Lynna, myself, the mayor, Margaret, and Elsa are essentially grouped for this. I believe that the evil sees us as some of the greatest threats to its goals. It wants to create fear and chaos, anger and rage. It wants death and injury. I think I can safely say that the six of us are all determined to see that it does not get its way."

"Wouldn't it be better to split the six of you up? Then there could be healers at the other locations as well..." one person suggested.

"Actually, the evil would rather we were split up. I have noticed that most of its attacks have been when we were separated. There will be times when we cannot avoid it, but we are strongest to fight against it when we are together. So are all of you. And having a central location for the injured to be brought to and cared for at makes everything a lot more organized as well."

Stott had the feeling that a few of the people who had chosed the Surf and Sleep as the best place to stay for the duration were now seeing possible flaws in that theory. He felt as if someone had just painted a target on his chest and pointed the evil towards it. He would normally have avoided the worst of the danger himself. Not anymore though, he thought suddenly. After all, I've been with Lynna all day and the evil wants her dead more than me. I guess when you feel that way about somebody, it changes everything. He let his thoughts mull over the course of the day, and how much danger Lynna had been in so far. It's only getting worse too. He sighed, and returned his thoughts to the present, and Agmar answering more questions.

"No, that is not something I can do," he responded to a question Stott had missed hearing. "Although I have studied some of the processes and do know how it is done. Mostly it is something I would never choose to do. The beings that live within planes other than our own are not meant to be brought to this one. As is evidenced by the very evil we are up against right now. This thing is bound, not even at half strength. The best way to describe it that I can find is that this evil is half asleep and yet look at the danger it brings with it anyway. If it were to break free of its binds I believe it would decimate this continent in a matter of months. The other wizards I was with and myself want to make sure that possibility never occurs. To that end, I will --"

Agmar was interrupted by the sound of a door slamming open and a loud commotion in the foyer. Someone was screaming for Margaret and several people pushed their way into the room and through the crowd as Margaret, Lynna, Agmar and Elsa all stood to see what was happening. Stott was only a moment behind in getting to his feet, and his mouth dropped open as he watched Erica Smithe fall to her knees before them, her six-year-old daughter in her arms covered in blood. It appeared as if the girl had been slashed across the face and arms, as well as stabbed in the chest. Stott was pretty sure they had been staying at the schoolhouse, and wondered where Erica's older son and husband were. The woman with Erica was her next door neighbor, Lisa Peterson.

"Help me! Please!" the woman sobbed.

Lynna went to kneel down in front of the child, her hands outstretched, but Agmar put his hand out and stopped her. He knelt down and placed his own hand on the child's chest and Stott could see it glowing slightly. Erica watched him, her eyes full of fear and hope at the same time.

After what seemed like a long moment, Agmar took his hand away and looked up at Erica, shaking his head sadly at her.

"I am sorry, but she has already gone," he told her quietly.

"NOOOO!" she screamed, lunging at him. He grabbed her by the upper arms and held her back some as she pounded her fists anywhere she could reach.

"You bring her back! You have to bring her back! She's my daughter! He didn't mean to do it!" She repeated the words over and over again before collapsing into sobs. Agmar let go of her arms once she'd stopped trying to hit him.

"What happened Lisa?" Margaret asked, as she moved in to put her arms around the distraught mother.

"The boy, their son Leon, he somehow got hold of a kitchen knife. He must have fallen asleep. They've bound him up for now. Bert is staying with him, in case he comes out of it. We rushed her here as quick as we could, but we didn't know it had happened until he'd already done it. Someone saw him leave the schoolhouse with a knife in his hand. He'd moved her out of sight. He was possessed, making these wailing noises and trying to cut anyone who came near him." She shook her head, as if she didn't believe what she was telling them herself. While she'd been talking, Erica's crying had quieted down. Margaret rubbed the woman's back, while rocking back and forth.

"I'm so sorry, Erica. I'm so sorry." Margaret said quietly.

"I am sorry as well," Agmar said, sitting down heavily onto the chair again.

The room stirred slowly into motion as some people backed quietly out of it, trying to get out of the way, and others moved closer and spoke soft words to try and offer some comfort to the grieving mother. Stott found himself looking at the body of the child as a pool of blood formed beneath her on the floorboards. His heart was in his stomach, and he was reminded of the boat and his brother. He looked over at Erica's back, trying to think of something he could say to help her get through it, and saw Margaret looking over the woman's shoulder with an odd expression on it. Erica's hands were around Margaret's throat, choking the healer.

"Hey!" he yelled immediately, jumping forward to intervene. His arms were longer than Erica's so he pressed against her from behind and grabbed her wrists. He tried to pull them away, but couldn't get any leverage.

"Some help here!?" he asked as he moved around to reach her hands. Margaret was clawing at the arms and hands uselessly, and was getting in his way. "I'll help, Mrs. Gretch," he tried to explain. He knew that she was probably just feeling the panic of trying to live, and that she probably wouldn't hear him.

For just a moment the memory of his struggle with Etrick came back, and he had to fight the image off so that he could focus on Erica. Now people had noticed, and he could hear several voices trying to command Erica to stop. She can't hear you, Stott knew but did not bother to explain to them.

He had Erica's hands, but still couldn't get the fingers loose. Harder he told himself. He got a better grip on one finger and started prying it. The cracking sound of his brother's fingers breaking came back to him, and he couldn't do it. You have to, he insisted to himself, but it wasn't working. "Lynna? Agmar? Help me!"

Agmar stepped behind her and put his hand on the back of her neck. He stood there, and Stott was about to say something when Erica flopped to the ground like a rag doll.

"What did you do to her?" someone screamed. Agmar put his hand over her face, and her head rolled to the side a little. Margaret fell to a less than dignified sitting position, panting desperately.

"Rope," Agmar ordered, "quickly. She is asleep now. I will hold her body still until it can be bound." Erica was twitching and twisting and writhing, but an invisible force was preventing any real movement.

"Are you alright?" Stott asked Margaret.

Margaret shook her head, clutching her throat with a frightened look on her face. Lynna knelt down next to her and put her hands over Margaret's.

"Let me put my hands there, Margaret. It's easier and faster if I can touch closer to the wound," she told the healer. Margaret's hands came away but fluttered anxiously at her sides as if she might bring them back at any moment. Her face was an odd shade and her breath made a rasping noise. Lynna's hands moved around the woman's throat and she closed her eyes to concentrate. Stott watched as Lynna's hands glowed slightly and Margaret's face moved from fear to panic for a moment, her hands flying up again to grab hold of Lynna's.

The heat, Stott realized. It's all concentrated in that one area. She's sure it will burn her.

"It's okay, Mrs. Gretch. It's supposed to feel that way," he said.

She looked at him, eyes wide, and her hands just inches from trying to pry Lynna's away. She paused there and Stott nodded to her. Suddenly she drew in a large gulp of air as Lynna pulled her hands away. It took the healer a moment to properly catch her breath again. By the time she could talk, two of the sailors staying at the Surf and Sleep had bound Erica Smithe with rope. Agmar stepped back, lowering his hand, and she writhed and screamed on the floor, struggling against the ropes like a trapped animal. The wailing sounds coming out of her mouth seemed inhuman. Her eyes were covered over with the thin reddish film that seemed to be the best way to tell if the evil had someone in their grasp. Most of the other people in the room had backed away, some leaving entirely. Lisa Peterson was sitting on the floor nearby with her hand over her mouth, watching Erica and shaking her head. Stott moved to her next.

"Mrs. Peterson? Are you okay?"

"She... I don't... what is happening to us?" She looked slightly dazed.

"She didn't kill anyone. That's the important part right now, believe me. She can see and hear everything that's happening around her right now, but she can't control what she's doing. Mrs. Gretch is going to be fine, and now Mrs. Smithe can't hurt anyone else while the evil has control. We'll watch over her here, but you should get back to your own family Mrs. Peterson. You've seen what can happen. You can watch over them and make sure it doesn't happen to them."

"Oh gods! Keith and Lee!" She rose quickly to her feet. "I'll have to let Bert Smithe know what happened to Erica too."

"Could you two walk her back?" Stott asked the two sailors who had bound Erica. "People shouldn't be traveling alone right now." They both nodded and the three left the room as Lisa Peterson headed for the door in a half run.

"Isn't there something we can do for her Agmar?" Lynna asked. Stott turned back to see her kneeling next to Erica, who growled at her from deep in her throat, like a dog might.

"If she is still like this at the end of tomorrow we might be able to do something to bring her out of it, as you did for Stott," Agmar replied. "But for now, there is nothing. She went willingly, even though she did not mean to, and the evil has her for a while yet. Those who are taken while sleeping have the better end of the deal. They might not remember all of what the evil makes them do. It will be hazy, like a dream. For this woman it will be like it was for Stott. She can see and hear us now, but is powerless to do anything more than watch. The evil is using the anger and despair that came from her grief. Its use of her is fueled by it, in a way."

Stott noticed people moving the body of the child, and turned to see Eric and Jeff gently carrying her off in a blanket. During the commotion, Avern and Syred had returned and the two were talking against the wall. Stott saw a couple of the inn's serving girls move in and start cleaning up the floor as soon as the girl's body had been carried off.

"Stott, Agmar, Lynna... thank you all," Margaret said. Stott turned to see that Elsa was helping her mother stand up and brush off her skirts.

"Save the gratitude for later, when this is all over Margaret. We've got work to do now," Agmar told her with a nod. "The children are not going to be able to stay awake through this. It had not really occurred to me before, but we will have more instances like that young girl and her mother if we do not have them bound now. I suggest that I supervise this at the schoolhouse, considering the majority of the children appeared to be housed there. You should see to the children here, Margaret. Captain Syred? Could you see to the ones at the warehouse and Mary's, as well as warn Bentz's group of the dangers?"

"Bentz won't listen. When I warned him about cookfires he just laughed at me." Syred looked both frustrated and worried, and the fingers of one hand idly drummed against the hilt of his sword.

"Well, see to our people first, then at least try to warn them. Maybe someone over there will show some sense." Agmar shook his head and sighed. Syred just nodded and strode out of the room.

"Elsa and I will take care of the children here," Margaret said. "We'll get a couple of the men off the ships to tie the knots and hold the parents back if they resist. Although I think the people at this inn have developed a better understanding for the necessity of these things by now." She gave Agmar a wry smile. "Will Lynna be going with you?"

"Yes. Stott, you too."

"I'll join you as well, if you don't mind," Avern said. "As you said, the majority of them are at the schoolhouse. The parents will not be pleased about this."

"Very well," Agmar replied. "Let us go then."

Stott fell in next to Lynna, following Agmar and Avern out of the inn. Lynna slipped her hand into his again and squeezed it as they walked. Her touch was warm and reassuring, despite the chill that had settled over the town and the haunted howling of the wind as it whipped its way between the buildings, tearing leaves and small branches from trees as it went. It was loud enough that Stott knew he'd have a difficult time making himself heard over it, so he contented himself with walking silently next to Lynna as they made their way to the schoolhouse. All around the town, lightning streaked angrily across the sky, lighting up the view in moments of brief, bright clarity which made the darkness that had settled over the town seem even darker between flashes.