Anna reminded herself not to pace yet again. One of the horses shoved its muzzle between her arm and body, hoping for attention. She stroked it absentmindedly. "Come on, guys," she muttered to herself. The road -- more a track at this point -- was cut just below the ridge of a craggy hill. Brenden, Montgomery, and Shiro lay prone near the summit, scanning what lay beyond the next turn with binoculars. Problem was, they were up high and the clouds were low, their bases just at the party's level, obscuring vision, but no so badly as to make the attempt obviously hopeless. She was dimly aware of Conn approaching and leading off the horse. Anna never moved.

Finally, the three men began scooting there way down the slope in a shower of dirt and pebbles. "Well?" asked Anna with barely constrained impatience. So close. So very close.

Shiro and Montgomery hesitated a split second. Brenden jumped in. "A tough nut to crack, boss-lady. Sure enough, one evil-looking castle, right out of central casting."

Montgomery was more practical. "Beyond the bend, the ground slopes down for a quarter mile, then up again, gently, for a further three furlongs. The track leads to a detached gatehouse. Two stories, bastions flanking the gate, arrow slits, probably a dogleg between gates. Very professionally laid out, if gloomy looking."

Shiro amplified. "Beyond that is some sort of round keep inside a curtain wall. There is a deep gorge between the gatehouse and keep; the keep looks like it's on an island in the clouds. I couldn't tell how deep the gorge is, but given the melodrama heaped upon the rest of that castle, I would assume it to be, ah, fatally deep."

"The good news, such as it is," Brenden asserted, "is that we didn't see much in the way of activity. Some, yes, but not much. My guess is the group that bushwhacked us came from there, so they're shorthanded right now. Don't know if they realize what happened to their late, unlamented compatriots..."

"If we assume we are facing a magically puissant foe, then assume they are alerted," Alain commented.

"Yeah. We'd best assume the worst," Anna concluded sourly. "Suggestions?"

"Approach on foot. Let us gain some advantage from this accursed mist," said Conn. The others nodded in agreement.

"Alain, can you offer us a foretelling?" asked Brenden.

The elf shook her head. "After the last ambuscade --"

"Ambush," corrected Shiro, something a bit too feral to be called a grin spreading across his face. "It didn't work, so it was an ambush. Correct, Brenden?" Brenden nodded.

"I stand corrected, Master Shiro. At any rate, the shadows became crisper until we reached here. In retrospect, I might have been able to foresee the ambush" -- she favored Shiro with something also too predatory to be named a smile -- "from noting the drastic discontinuity of the shadows of the original casting. There was, it seems, a good chance we might have died and failed there, so the future became hazy after that."

"And the future is again hazy?" asked Montgomery. At the elf's nod he continued. "Well, I do not think we need magic to tell us we face danger here. With faith and courage, we will win through," he concluded confidently. His steadfast belief in their ultimate victory helped buoy the others.

"I will take care of the drawbridge from the keep to the gatehouse," volunteered Shiro. Anna looked at him with some surprise. "You wish to enter a dwelling uninvited and require that certain pieces of equipment not work properly. This is my specialty. I will do this because I am the best suited for the job and, no offense, you would probably just get in the way. Besides, consider how many unreimbursed hours I will lose if we fail and I die this far into a contract," he added drolly.

Anna couldn't help a chuckle. Brenden lightly clapped his shoulder in approval. Even Alain managed an honest smile at his words. Anna and Brenden's eyes met. They both recalled the conversation in Brenden's bedroom before they set out.

With that, they set off along the path. Conn led the way, as usual, with Alain and Montgomery flanking. Brenden and Anna filled in behind, and just as in the thicket where they had discovered Marsella, Shiro vanished. "I shall be off to the right," he had said. I hate it when he does that, Anna thought. The fog reached out with wispy tendrils and silently enveloped them. Montgomery's finger twitched against his rifle's trigger guard, and Brenden's MP-40 dowsed for enemies. Shiro pulled in closer, so as not to lose contact with the others. Scattered bird calls occasionally broke the silence. Crows and whip-poor-wills, Anna reflexively noted. What the hell are whip-poor-wills doing here?

They crept cautiously onward. Suddenly steel whispered against leather as Alain drew blade. The mist in front of her had suddenly thickened. Several more shapes coalesced around them, revealing themselves to be mailed yeomen. Off in the woods, Shiro suddenly found himself confronting one whose approach had been utterly silent. He kicked at the exposed face, and nearly lost his balance as his foot sailed through the man's head. Alain's foe struck, and Alain winced at the thought of the noise of steel ringing against steel. So much for surprise. Disorientation followed hard on the heels of shock as her blade passed cleanly through that of her opponent and she stumbled badly. Anna stepped forward to cover the elf, though she was unsure how or against whom -- or what.

The Storm Knights pulled closer, Shiro reappearing on the path. One of the apparitions stepped towards Conn. As the Ayslish warrior hesitated between raising his blade and the Sword of Dunad around his neck, the ghost smiled and raised an open hand. Moustache and beard parted in a silent call. The others looked, raised sword and shield as if cheering, then melted away. Apparently, Conn's goodness was plain even to the unquiet dead.

"If those were ghosts, do not tell me. There are things I would rather not understand," said Shiro, baffled and agitated.

"Perhaps they were the castle's original garrison. No doubt this Morganna would rather steal than build," Conn said, perplexed.

"Perhaps. They do not press us, which is what is important. We go on." A lifetime of battling the Horrors of Orrorsh had armored Montgomery against such minor apparitions.

The clouds descended as they made their approach. This was a mixed blessing; with visibility down to a few yards, they were unlikely to be seen, but more than one muffled curse escaped from the group as they groped their way to their destination. Their progress slowed to a near crawl. About forty minutes later, the grey bulk of the gatehouse finally appeared. Moments later, so did Shiro. "So, how do we want to do this?" he whispered enthusiastically.

"Remarkably eager blighter," Montgomery softly commented to Conn.

Alain peered through the fog. "It seems the drawbridge is down and the first portcullis raised."

"I'll make sure the gate stays that way. Think you can handle the guardhouses? I do not wish to make two trips."

"Boiling oil does wonders for the complexion," Brenden cracked. "How do we get around that?"

Alain piped up. "Zephyr of course. I control the winds about me. Oil can be deflected. You will have to stay near, though. Also, let me fortify Conn and Colour Sergeant Black. It will prove helpful in the event the portcullis comes down."

Anna and Conn nodded enthusiastically. After a moment, Montgomery gave his assent, though less eagerly. Magic still made him uneasy.

"Fine. Anna Oakley, you and Montgomery take out the right side. Conn and I will handle the left. Alain plays umbrella. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good, sounds like it's time for the Tiger," Anna said, pulling out the heavy Nippon Tech sidearm favored by Shiro. "When do we go?"

"When you hear shots," Shiro replied. "I shall be off now."

"Wait." Alain rummaged around in her backpack, and pulled out another grimoire. "Hold still, this won't hurt a bit, but it will make you quieter." She quietly chanted something from her book, then said, "Now, give me something of yours to hold." Shiro slapped a dagger into her hand, and turned to Conn. "One for the tradesman, one for the elf, and one for the little man who goes by himself." He bowed, set off, and promptly vanished.

"I shall not understand that man if I live to be seventy," Conn commented to Montgomery. The Victorian nodded.

As he neared the gatehouse, Shiro paused to collect himself. This is my game, my rules. He concentrated, seeking his inner balance. Suddenly, things felt right. Familiar patterns and thoughts washed over him. He was, for lack of a better word, home. Try to stop me now. He crept near the left guardhouse, and hunkered down. Time for a distraction. He scooped up a clod of dirt, and flung it off to the right as he scampered for the tower base. Sliding around the outside, he came to the gorge. Plentiful handholds allowed him to reach the underside of the drawbridge.

Once across, he quickly ducked into the shadows. The winch was unguarded. Shiro placed a small charge and contact detonator in the mechanism. Sufficient. Now for the guards. Shiro lightly ascended the stairs to the parapet. Two mailed guards stood watch, fifteen feet apart. Their backs were to him. The one inside is most dangerous, Shiro observed as he chopped the near one, knocking him down. When his comrade turned, Shiro put three shots into his face before finishing off the man beneath him.

"Showtime," Brenden said. The five charged the gatehouse.

Anna fired. Whether she had a good target or was trying to keep heads down for a few vital seconds didn't matter. The five stormed towards the gate, and passed under the first portcullis even as the first anxious cries were raised. They sprinted past the dogleg. Sure enough, the garrison wasn't completely out to lunch; the second portcullis was down. Conn and Montgomery made their way forward, gripped the barrier, and strained. Brenden turned around, ready to deal with problems behind them. He flinched when he heard noises over his head, but Alain was as good as her word. Red hot sand poured down the murder holes, only to be buffeted and deflected by Alain's magic. Still, the odd grain got through, or skittered off the side walls and landed on bare flesh. They were ignored. Anna shot two archers; hastily drawn arrows struck granite and broke.

Conn and Montgomery grunted and the portcullis jerked convulsively up to their knees. The shouting around them grew louder. The drawbridge in front of them quivered, raised up a handspan, then fell back in place. A short, hollow sound belched from inside the keep and echoed across the gorge.

Brenden hefted a grenade, looking for a target. The two big men again grunted in unison and the portcullis squealed to waist height. "Go, go, go!" panted Montgomery. Anna squirted through, then Conn shifted to the outside, his boots thumping solidly on the wooden bridge. A streak shot out from the castle parapet, flew at the lefthand gatehouse and exploded thunderously. Rocks, wood, and sprays of red and pink gobbets showered down into the gorge. Brenden rolled onto the bridge and let fly at the other gatehouse. The flat boom sounded just as Montgomery ducked under the portcullis. Brenden was too pumped to feel reality buck against his will. Conn sprang back and the barrier smacked home again.

"Come on! Forget the gatehouse. Dunad and victory!" shouted Conn, drawing blade and storming across the bridge. A half-seen form loomed out of the mist to his right and Conn whirled to meet the unexpected threat. Something grey and powerful drove into him, knocking him back a pace. His left heel gripped air and another powerful shape cut through the air to complete his overthrow. Without a word, he toppled back and disappeared over the side of the drawbridge.

"Conn!" shouted Alain, her voice rising octaves. She launched herself over the side to Anna's gasp. Montgomery sprinted across the bridge to the far side, crouching low. Anna and Brenden fired on vaguely seen foes. Alain hovered just under the bridge, buoyed up by her magic. To her great relief, she saw Conn dangling over a sea of mist, one hand still gripping the bridge. Another shape angled in from below. "No! No, corruption blast your eyes!" Alain plummeted like a stone for two fathoms, then executed an astoundingly tight turn, blade at the ready. More by sound and instinct than sight, she engaged the mysterious foe.

Shiro fired a short burst into the courtyard, tumbling a warrior to the ground. The way was open but why were the others delaying? He risked a glance over his shoulder and saw Montgomery, almost up to his position, stop and turn back. "What the?" cried Shiro, some dark corner of his mind fearing betrayal.

Brenden came sprinting up and slid to a halt past Montgomery. "Conn fell over the side! He's holding on, but needs help! Go back, I'll hold 'em off!"

Shiro nodded sharply. Brenden was not an overly strong man, and Shiro's agility might prove the difference. "Fine!" He shimmied over the wall and moved off in a quick, skating motion that presented a bad target and kept the bridge from flexing. Montgomery was already spreadeagled on the deck, clasping Conn's arm. He betrayed no surprise when Shiro flopped down next to him. Hot air and burnt powder washed over them as Anna tried to keep their aerial foes clear. Shiro momentarily focused on a grey, stone-like winged shape spiraling into the deep mist.

Steel and rock-hard talon met. The first clash was inconclusive, but Alain's magic let her spin in place while natural law forced her foe into a raking pass. Her second stroke sheared through the tough wing membrane of the retreating gargoyle. It plummeted from the sky.

Conn calmly resheathed his sword to free his right hand. Shiro gripped it. Conn looked up to see the faces of his companions, one yellow, one ruddy white, both creased with strain and worry. Alain's magic most certainly played a role, because Conn's left hand had literally dug its way into the planks of the bridge, so powerful was his grasp on it and life. Hand over hand, they slowly raised him, all twenty five stones of armored knight.

Anna turned to bear on another gargoyle making a diving run on the struggling knights, but a fireball blotted it from the sky. Alain shortly rose up next to the bridge. She pointed her blade, and the fireball swept the battlements of the gatehouse behind them in obedience. She was rewarded with screams and the smell of burnt flesh.

With a great roar, Conn broached up out of the sea of mist. He was quickly on his feet and helped Shiro and Montgomery regain theirs, combining lift and gratitude in one powerful clasp of the hands. They scurried across, Alain's fireball darting around them to cover their movement.

Brenden lobbed a white phosphorous grenade into the courtyard, grunted as it exploded and men shrieked in mortal agony, and looked about. "They're forming for a charge. They've brought up archers," he reported tersely. "Good to see you, Conn." A smile flashed across his face and was gone.

Conn nodded. "We will take the fight to them. They will break. This time, for Dunad and victory!" Conn bellowed the last and darted into the courtyard. Montgomery was scarcely a step behind. Shiro sighed at such bravado, produced a LAW tube from his pack, and popped it open. He scuttled into the courtyard and then crabbed against one of the walls. Brenden and Anna fired to cover the approach of Conn and Black. Alain moved forward, ready to use steel or spell as required.

Shiro squatted down on his haunches, unobserved. He sighted across the courtyard to a small tower on the wall. Wavering forms issued from it and down the stairs to the courtyard to join the fray. Shiro smiled. It was not a pleasant thing. The smoky, rolling red fireball which he caused to erupt from the stairway momentarily cleared away the mist. Shiro felt it kick at his mind, but he held on and scooted to a new firing position.

Conn slew. None could stand before him. With Alain's strength spell, and perhaps with the extra adrenaline of his near-fatal plunge and just maybe the attention of his god, he fought as he never had before. After a few seconds, the halberdiers readying to charge the gate broke under his onslaught. Corpses and parts of corpses littered the courtyard. A few archers tried to stem the one man tide, but the Colour Sergeant saw to them. His rifle barked and a screaming archer described a flailing arc into the courtyard. He bounced and lay very still. That broke the defenders, who began throwing themselves over the walls to escape.

Shiro and Brenden quickly ascended the wall to keep the rout going. Most of their shots were blind, but the noise of their fire was enough to grind their foes' shattered morale into dust. Alain added a fireball that swept the perimeter and smashed into the gate complex across the gorge again. Stone softened, sagged, and screamed like a living thing. The portcullis was going to stay down for quite some time.

In front of them stood the keep, silent and menacing. No warriors had issued from it and no challenge rang from it as the group cautiously approached. Brenden and Shiro rejoined the others and shocked silence fell over the area. Conn pulled open the door to the keep and Brenden led the way, alert for trouble. The small, circular room was bare, its only features a heavy wooden door in wall opposite them and a bound brass trap door in the floor. Brenden stood momentarily puzzled by the lack of a reception, then slid to the side to cover all three doors. The others filed in equally carefully. "Which first, up or down?" asked Black.

"Up. We know how big it is. No telling what's below us," Anna decided, even as the others turned to her.

Shiro considered tesseracts but kept his peace. Alain's face wore the abstracted look it often held while she searched for supernatural incursions into the natural world. "There are no wards I can detect," announced the elf. "I am surprised; the brass trap door all but cries out for magical warding." Alain's tone was almost indignant.

Anna shrugged. "We'll discuss why this place doesn't get a Better Homes and Dungeons prize later, Alain. Let's keep moving."

Conn moved to far door and pulled it open after examining the area for mechanical surprises. The door opened onto a clockwise spiral stairway. Shallow stone steps curved up and away, hugging the exterior wall. Conn noted the design with approval -- a right handed attacker would have his sword arm to the inside of the curve. As he placed his foot on the first tread, he was surprised by a light touch on his shoulder.

Shiro smiled pleasantly. "Perhaps I should go first. If Mistress Alain vouches for the lack of otherworldly surprises, I am quite competent to deal with mundane tricks. It's more my style anyway, don't you think?" Conn gave a startled nod and let the oriental squeeze past him. After one full turn, the stairs gave way to a landing and another door. As he surveyed the area, Shiro muttered "I'm far better acquainted with booby traps than you will ever be, or I wish you to realize, my upright comrade." Finally satisfied, he waved the others, waiting at a respectful -- and presumably safe --distance, forward.

The next room was some sort of alchemical laboratory. A large stone table dominated the room by virtue of its mass. Shelves lined the walls, some filled with books, others with strange apparatus. Copper tubes led from retorts to distillation columns. Hand blown glass beakers and flasks held unidentifiable liquids, while more recognizable solids sat quietly in jars. Alphabetized bits and pieces of animals and plants occupied two whole units. A complete skeleton of something hung by the door on the opposite side of the room. More paraphernalia lay on the table. One iron dagger had a wickedly sharp, curved blade, while next to it lay another blade which seemed less dangerous than a butter knife. A black tar mixed with whitish flecks coated the inside of a crucible suspended over a burned out candle. Spidery notes covered several parchment sheets. Alain was drawn to them like a moth to a bright flame.

Anna tugged at Alain. "Not now; you'll be at for days if we let you." The elf sighed and followed meekly. Shiro and Conn had the next door open and the party began to snake its way up the next set of stairs. As Anna and Alain passed the skeleton, Anna attempted to classify it out of habit. Some sort of tri-ped with two appendages rising up from a heavily boned central hump. Wait a minute! Those things aren't arms, they're necks! That hump must be a brain case. Big, lots of room, but where are the grasping digits? She paused to examine the skeleton more carefully. What sort of evolution could produce this creature? This time, Alain tugged Anna along, a not unkindly smile on her face.

No one had noticed Shiro's thin smile as he observed the skeleton.

Again the stairs curved once around the tower and ended on a landing. This door was more ornate, with bas-relief ivy climbing along the outer edge, and a large brass knocker in the center. After Shiro declared the area safe, the others bunched up, ready to pile into the room. "Shall we knock?" asked Brenden drolly.

Shiro smiled briefly. "I should think that the calling card we left in the foyer suffices." He cast a glance at the Colour Sergeant to see how he reacted.

To everyone's amazement, the taciturn Victorian took up the mood of the banter. "The lawn party wasn't listed in the society pages, so it must be an informal affair. The house staff did not see us off," not for want of trying went the firmly understood unstated caveat, "so no social opprobrium will befall us if we take the liberty of making ourselves at home." Black waggled his pinkies away from his rifle as he made this grave pronouncement.

"Right," said Conn as he kicked the door in, against its hinges.

This room appeared to be some kind of office. Maps of England hung from the walls. Behind the desk was a heraldic banner no one could identify. The desk was walnut with gold inlay. Scrolls were stored in the corner. There was a small tome entitled Laws on the desk. There was also a census and a history of the realm. Some documents in a different hand were also present, a hand similar to the magical papers below.

They continued on, keying themselves up; by their estimation, the next level was the topmost. Their suspicions were bolstered when the next landing ended not with a door in the wall, but a trap door in the ceiling. A stool stood in the corner. As Shiro finished giving the area his once-over, Anna pushed her way forward and dragged the stool under the trap door.

"Um, Anna, maybe you should let one of us go first. Our job is to protect you, remember?" said Brenden nervously. If the ever prudent Anna was going fey on them, then the mental stresses must really be taking their toll.

Anna shook her head. "Maybe, but I've got a hunch. I'm feeling lucky. Sometimes, you've just got to go with your instincts." Conn frowned, but did not speak. Montgomery shifted his weight from one foot to the other nervously. Anna clambered onto the stool and drew a pistol and checked its load. "Lucky, not stupid," she noted.

Anna raised the trap door slightly to peek into the next room. The point of a black spear aimed itself at the bridge of her nose. She threw herself to the side, overbalancing the stool. The tip of the spear hissed by her ear and hit the door. Timber and metal shivered and exploded, sending splinters in all directions.

Lacerated and deafened by the explosion, Anna hung on by her fingertips. Every instinct in her body told her to let go and fall back to safety. Instead, she hauled herself up with a convulsive heave and spilled onto the floor, rolling away from another spear thrust. This one blew a chunk of the wall into the ruined courtyard below. Anna grunted and rolled to her feet, finally catching a glimpse of her foe. She faced a figure completely armored in black, wielding a wicked black spear.

Conn reacted first. After righting the stool with deft footwork, he leaped onto it and used it as a springboard to fairly fly to the top of the tower. The stool groaned and collapsed. Thinking quickly, Brenden made a stirrup of his hands and boosted Shiro and Montgomery into the fray.

Anna had her hands full staying alive. She managed half a second's safety and pumped three rounds into her foe's visor. The slugs went through cleanly, chipping holes in the opposite wall. Her foe was unaffected. Great. Not a man? Now what? The knight -- or maybe just knight's armor -- jabbed at her midsection, and she batted aside the stroke, her pistol butt into the shaft of the spear. As Anna scrambled further around the circle and sucked in shuddering lungfulls of air, she had time to think, Well, it's only the point of the spear that is mondo nasty. Stupid way to find out, though. She fired again, still to no affect. The spear started forward once more, and she tensed herself to leap clear -- or die trying -- when Conn's sword swung down, driving the spear tip into the floor. Another explosion ensued and a good sized hunk of floor vanished.

The spear wielder turned to face his new opponent. Conn circled away from the trap door to give the others room. The deadly spear tracked Conn's movement. Suddenly, Conn's blade stuttered up and down, a feint and a vicious attack designed to split his foe from brainpan to breadbasket. The black knight's spear interrupted the downward arc. The wood of the shaft did not give and Conn's sword rebounded upwards. Conn twisted out of danger as the spear sought out his vitals. Conn's ebon foe pressed his advantage. Anna fired at him again and again, and was joined by Montgomery and Shiro, but nothing distracted him from seeking Conn's life.

Alain boosted Brenden, then triggered another Zephyr spell and wafted up into the fray. Brenden's fire did no more than that of the others. The Colour Sergeant calmly switched to blessed silver ammunition. Conn defended himself masterfully, parrying each spear thrust with crisp, precise motions and eventually forced his armored foe back a pace. Black found himself with a clear shot and exhaled as he stroked the trigger of his weapon. A neat, black hole appeared in the armor, revealing an even darker, formless interior.

Black braced himself against the inevitable, emasculating wave of fear, not that it ever really did any good. Surprisingly, it failed to come. Despite the deadly close-quarter struggle, Colour Sergeant Montgomery Black barked a short laugh. This is the worst they can throw at us? Hmmph. I expected better.

The fight went on. Shiro slowly advanced on the thing. It ignored him, continuing its attack on Conn. Shiro attempted a leg sweep. It felt like kicking a telephone pole and was even less effective. His foe swung back at him with the butt of his spear; Shiro barely rolled aside. In attacking Shiro, however, the black knight disrupted his timing against Conn. Conn was too good a swordsman not to parley this slight advantage into material gain. He smote hard, striking where basinet met breastplate. The helm flew off, rattling in the corner. The formless automaton thus exposed seemed not to notice.

A tongue of flame from Alain's torch leaped into the empty neck hole, obeying her arcane command. The blackness swallowed it. Brenden, casting about for ideas, glanced at the basinet. It seemed to be slowly rolling back to the rest of the suit of armor. Guess hacking it to bits won't work. Still... He started methodically plinking the helm to keep it away from the rest of the armor. He slapped in a new clip -- one of his last -- and wished for Captain Midnight or Hannibal -- the Nile heroes never seemed to run out of ammo.

Montgomery looked around. Swords and guns seemed useless. He watched as Conn again parried the black knight's wicked spear. The spear. The Spear! He stepped forward, letting go of his rifle with one hand. The black knight turned to face him. Black reached to his collar and grabbed the small silver cross at the end of the chain around his neck. "Back, Hellspawn. In the Lord's Name, I rebuke you!" Black staggered back, indescribable agony erupting from everywhere and nowhere along his body. The black knight staggered back, too, though.

Conn understood at once. "We'll hold it off," he bellowed. He brought his longsword down on the armor's left gauntlet, severing it from the arm. Shiro grabbed the glove, pivoted, wrenching the spear free from the other hand, and sent it clattering against the wall. Again, rock splinters flew as the spear gouged its way to a halt. A greave caught him on the shoulder, sending him sprawling. Conn used his sword like a club to bat the thing away from Shiro.

The gauntlet began levitating, raising the butt of the spear with it. Shiro scrambled to his feet and leapt onto the gauntlet, pinning it to the floor. Alain slapped her sword over the shaft just behind the head of the spear, helping Shiro. Now Conn pounded like a blacksmith, keeping the rest of the armor off balance.

Anna moved over to Montgomery to lend moral support -- and more. She clasped Montgomery's clenched fist, so she, too, held the simple cross and sent a prayer winging heavenward. Lord, help us now. We have come so far, but we can't do it alone. She had never been one for flowery language.

As she prayed, she felt a dark, cloying shadow insinuate itself between her words. You cannot win. Submit to the serpent within you. Revel in the beast within you. The words stung. They hurt, they sent daggers of ice through her soul. She kept praying, squeezing her eyes shut, driving tears along her cheeks.

Submit. Submit and serve the Light Bringer. The voice in her mind, in her soul commanded. It cajoled. It enticed. "No." Anna didn't realize she spoke aloud. Neither did Montgomery, whose lips otherwise moved to the pattern of formal prayers, repeated over and over again.

The world faded. There was only the clear light of Anna's faith and the besieging ultimate night. Then there was another light, subtly different, but just as beautiful. The two lights merged and swirled together, and Anna knew the second light for Montgomery. The darkness was driven back ever so slightly. Then, far away and only dimly seen, was a third light. They moved towards it. The blackness resisted. It was terrible. The struggle went on outside the world of time, everywhere at once and nowhere in particular, but the third light grew brighter, nearer.

The third light joined them, and the darkness screamed. In one voice, Anna, Montgomery and Brenden began to recite the Lord's Prayer. "Our Father Who art in Heaven..."

"Thy Will be done..." The voices of the three supplicants began to assume the majesty of a chant. Conn struck a blow that caved in the chestplate of the suit of armor, though it continued to struggle.

"But deliver us from evil..." The gauntlet struggling under Shiro's body weakened. The spear ceased to quiver under Alain's blade.

"Amen." The darkness was banished, there were only three glorious lights, each reflecting a part of a greater light. Conn delivered another blow. This time, the armor collapsed and did not rise. After perhaps thirty seconds, Shiro relinquished his hold on the gauntlet. Nothing happened. He easily peeled it away from the spear and tossed it away.

Montgomery's eyes snapped open. "Do not pick up the spear. Do not even touch it," he ordered. Shiro and Alain heeded him.

Anna found herself on her knees. She wobbled to her feet. Across the room, Brenden did likewise. "Good thinking, Montgomery," congratulated Anna.

The Colour Sergeant shrugged, not really wanting to accept the praise, but not wanting to offend. "It often happens that way in my world. I am glad we were not found wanting as vessels for the Lord's wrath." After a moment, he added, "Besides, once I recognized the Spear, it was plain as day."

Anna puzzled over the obvious capital letter for a moment. Brenden came over, also confused. Then the light dawned. "Anna, the spear looks, well, Roman."

Anna got it. "The Dolorous Spear!" she cried. Brenden nodded.

"The spear that killed the Son of God," the Colour Sergeant agreed gravely.

Alain approached the now still suit of armor. She reached inside and produced a large key. "I think we will need this shortly."

Shiro began, "How did you--" but he brought himself up short.

Alain nodded. "This fairly reeks of dark magic."

"Going down." Anna's voice betrayed the weariness they all felt. It took them awhile to make their way back down the tower. They dripped blood from innumerable small wounds, and they planted their feet carefully on the stairs, afraid to trust themselves in their exhaustion.

They stared at the trap door in the ground floor for awhile, but neither Anna nor Alain could sense anything untoward. Finally, Conn just heaved it open. Below was a storeroom, mundane and completely innocuous.

Innocuous save for the jet black door hidden behind a small tower of ale casks. Alain flinched as she examined it. She then inserted the key into the lock and turned it. It swung open, revealing a dark, dank dungeon. "I would not want to test my mettle against these wards at my best, and I am far from fresh. Keys are a most wonderful thing, at times." Alain pocketed the key and the others piled up kegs to make sure the door stayed open. They lit more torches and passed into the dungeon splitting their worried glances between the darkness ahead of them and the unwholesome portal behind them.

The dungeon, hewn from the living rock, was a small one. They quickly verified that only one cell was occupied. A thin, wet, old man shivered in feverish dreams underneath a threadbare blanket. Alain had the spell of sealing on the door defeated in a few frenzied seconds, then was scarcely able to contain her impatience for the four or five additional heartbeats it took Shiro to pick the cell door. Alain rushed in, Anna close on her heels.

Alain dried him, snatching blankets from Conn with unaccustomed brusqueness. Anna started first aid for shock and exposure. Shiro popped a pair of self-heating chemical packs and handed them to Anna. Anna wrapped them and placed them in the man's armpits. Then Shiro ripped the top off another foil pack and the aroma of hot, spiced tea filled the air.

The old timer eventually came to. Anna stepped back a pace, but Alain bore in on him, forcing eye contact. "You are Merlin?"

The question hung in the air for long seconds. "Yes," he said, and something awoke within him and Alain could no longer meet his gaze.

Awkward silence held sway for more long seconds until Merlin looked to Shiro. Shiro handed over the tea. Merlin's sagacity extended to figuring out the use of a straw with nary a second look. Anna took her cue. "Sir, the king sent us to find you."

Merlin pulled on the tea and some color came back into his face. He said nothing.

Anna persisted. "Sir, are you well enough to travel? We can't stay here long."

Merlin sighed and put down the bag of tea. "We have a little time. Morganna is not near, nor has she the means to apport herself quickly. You are the ones..." He paused, unsure of the words he wanted. Finally, he settled on, "...from someplace else?" even though he was obviously dissatisfied with the imprecision of his words.

Anna nodded and said, "We are."

"Tell me of your travels while I marshal my strength." They did. They were tired and bloody and conscious of being in the bowels of a foe's stronghold. Middle English spiced with Latin, no matter how creatively stretched, was inadequate to describing the state of realities at war. Still, they tried, and slowly warmed to their task.

Two hours went by. Finally, Merlin stood. He beckoned to Alain. "I haven't the strength yet to apport us. You, however, Child of the Seelie, know some useful tricks." Alain offered her hand. Merlin grasped it with his right hand and made arcane passes with his left.

Suddenly, Alain grinned from ear to ear. "Oh, my. This is quite an impressive Zephyr spell."

Brenden groaned. "Alain, when you get excited by a spell, whole counties get laid waste, or the settled order of nature gets turned on its ear, or worse."

Anna couldn't help herself; she laughed. "Well, after all this excitement, what's one of Alain's specials in comparison? We can take it. Besides, we have a magician to deliver to a king."

It took ten minutes to pick their way back to the courtyard of the castle, carefully avoiding the largest craters. Then Alain showed off her new toy. Ten minutes later, they were in Camelot. Anna and Conn kissed the ground gratefully, and Brenden muttered something about E ticket rides. Despite their aches and pains and recent fears, they smiled for joy and relief. They were alive and it looked like they had just done the impossible and just maybe helped save the world.