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RoamingShadow

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Roaming Shadow

"Rest well" Julian says. "If you would see to quarters for Hadrian and Noys, I would appreciate it."

"I will." Brieanne nodded, casting a look at her cousins to make certain they were following.

And they do.

Some hours later, after Brieanne has had a chance to rest (as well as her cousins), Brieanne, Hadrian, Noys and Galen gather in the now clouded up afternoon, at the stables. Briarsting, Smoketredder are underfoot. Hadrian, Doraand Noys show signs of recent rest, and Galen looks more energetic than he has before the dawn with the Dragons.

"Are we doing this the way we handled previous trips?" Hadrian asks Brieanne. "Noys and I do the driving, and you do the suggesting?"

  Brieanne pursed her lips and looked out as if her destination were just through the trees. "We can, but I think your suggestions will be as valid as mine... I'm not entirely sure we can make this a direct route and I'm rather curious about where we might end up."   "I think we might start with an herbalist. One who doesn't mind discussing walking fungus."

She swung herself up onto Polt's back, waited for them and then led out of Arden, knowing they needed space before anyone did anything and suspecting that their first target might actually be found close to Amber where, historically, all of this had happened in some fashion before.

In short order, Galen, Hadrian and Noys are mounted as well, and the group of four horses and two hellhounds are ready to return to the paths and roads through Arden. Her companions accede Brieanne the lead and initiative to get through Amber.

The course Brieanne chooses as easiest for her goals is one of the common ones out of Arden, leading into shadow close to but not precisely through Begma.  Galen says as much at one point, as the forest deepens around the group.

"A somewhat familiar road, although not precisely what we had chosen, yes?" Galen Miriamson asks Brieanne at one point.  "We're not going as far as the desert again, are we?"

  "No...." Brieanne speculated. "I rather suspect where we are going to be dank and dim. A forest where fungus is a bit of a natural problem, but maybe not quite as aggressive as what we're dealing with."  She wrinkled her nose, not at all looking forward to any of it. "A place that's dryer now but that used to have a serious problem would be good... one that has already dealt with virual fungus and has some idea of how you might go about uninfecting an area. Or a person."

""Someplace cooler and drier than the desert would be pleasant" Galen says  "Some of the terrain you describe, though, can be found in Ghenesh, although I would guess you would not wish to visit the Moonriders. You might want to seek elsewhere."

"That might require a trip outside the Golden Circle" Noys says. "Or at the very least an uncharted shadow within the Circle. Not that there aren't a plethora of those to be found."

"I am not sure how to go about finding a place quite like that" Hadrian says.  "I probably could find this Ghenesh place if that's where Brieanne wants to go, but otherwise..."

"No... not to Ghenesh.. at least, not yet. The problem was here, so we shall start seeking the solutions here. Places where the memory still echoes."

"Well, then its time for a lesson. Isn't it?" Noys says, regarding Brieanne.

"It is. I think it best if we ride out a bit and then circle in. Shall I begin?"

Noys furrows her eyebrows at Brieanne and then regards the rest of the group.

"What do you think, gentlemen?" she says to Hadrian and Galen.

"Let the lady lead" Galen says agreeably."as long as we stay away from too bright a sun!"

"I think we have come to an accord" Dora adds.

And so the group has.

In a fashion similar to Brieanne's  and Hadrian's journey on behalf of Bleys, Brieanne provides the suggestions and ideas for the next couple of hours, relying on Hadrian to do the actual heavy lifting of shadowshifting. Noys merely rides along, observing but not shadow-shifting.  Galen engages in conversation here and there, too.

Arden slowly melts away, being replaced by a younger, denser forest.  A place wet, but not overwhelmingly so.

It might be Hadrian's natural tendencies at work, subconsciously filling in the gaps, but the shadow that Brieanne and Hadrian come to is finally found.  There is an ocean nearby, judging from the salt smell in the air.  A dense pine forest, almost tropical in its lushness.  Rocky terrain and cliffs suggest powerful geologic forces sculpted this land long ago.

"I wonder if this shadow even has a name." Noys observes.

"We were looking for a herbalist" Hadrian says, pointing toward a stone hut on a cliff above them, overlooking the sea.

"I think we found whom we're looking for."

  "Hmm.." Brieanne gazed at the hut curiously. "Not where I find most of them... but, then, fungus doesn't like salt." She pursed her lips thoughtfully, looked around the woods one more time and headed for the cliff. Taking the horses only as far as was comfortable before using her own two feet.

The path up the hill proves difficult for the mortal horses in remarkably short order. Polt seems more capable than the other horses, but unless Brieanne wants to invoke his more esoteric abilities, even he would have difficulty a little further up the rocky trail.

Once they are on two feet, Hadrian proves to be second, if not equal to Brieanne, in picking his way up the trail. Dora flies leisurely along the both of them, with Noys, Galen and the hounds bringing up the rear.

At the top of the cliff, once everyone has had a moment to recover from the climb, the stone hut awaits. A small man, not even five feet tall, emerges from a door and regards Brieanne and her companions fearlessly.

"Good day, persistent travelers." he says. "Most give up the climb halfway through."

"Well," Brieanne huffed, "most don't have sentient mushrooms taking over villages and threatening their home with messages of doom."

The small man does not blink at Brieanne's response. With no hesitation, he glances at Hadrian, Galen and Noys in turn, and then back to Brie. He gives the hounds no attention.

She took a moment to catch her breath, scowl at the sun, and look around.

Brieanne's companions do as well. Brieanne also notices a slight chill in the air around Hadrian.

"Can we come in?"

"I get so few visitors, even for what I offer." the man says.  "Tell me your names, and I will per..." he looks at Brieanne and stops sharply.

 "Let me amend that. We will exchange use-names, and I will permit the three of you, but not your bestial companions..." Dora gives off a soft hiss at this.  "to enter my hut precisely once."

"It looks like you could all use some broth.  You may call me Ascanius."

  Frowning sternly, Brieanne slowly stood straighter, ignoring her previous discomfort.    "I am Brieanne, this is Noys, Hadrian, Galen ... and Dora." She didn't bother with titles, but she took half a step closer, peering at him closely, slightly curved that her own short stature was a closer match to his and they were nearly eye to eye. "And while it's reasonable enough to leave the boys out here, I take offense to treating Dora like some common lizard. If Dragon Lords accept her into their company, I see no reason why you cannot, and if there is no negotiation, than we will discuss our business right here." 

Hadrian straightens his back, keeping his body language tight. Dora peers at Ascanius curiously. Ascanius looks at Brieanne and then regards Dora.   Despite the tension in her gaze and voice, her arms were loose at her side. She was displeased and adamant, but not threatening.

"You must forgive my customs. I do not trust common animals. I did not know that your companion was anything more intelligent than a hound."

"I sspeak!" Dora pipes up.

"So she does." Ascanius looks at Hadrian and then back to Brieanne. "Then let me amend my invitation to include a guest of the Dragon Lords. I have never been to Menuis, myself, to have such an honor."

"Please follow me."  The small man turns toward the hut, not watching if the group follows.

"Thank you" Hadrian whispers to Brieanne.

  "I would only recommend Menuis if you have due cause or a Dragon they respect for company." Brieanne commented, nodding silently to Hadrian as she lifted a hand to briefly stroke Dora's neck.

Dora responds to Brieanne's fingers almost as if they were Hadrian's, relaxing visibly under her touch.   She gestured for the hounds to stay and followed everyone in.  

The hut inside is of surprisingly well carved furnishings. The wood that makes the tables, chairs and the cot in the corner must have been brought from at least the bottom of the cliff, if not farther, and has been painstakingly shaped into furniture accented with geometrical designs.  Ascanius gestures for everyone to sit and, as if expecting them, there are five chairs set by a rhomboid shaped table.  Ascanius does not sit himself, instead busying himself with ladling a brownish broth into small bowls clearly meant for sipping out of.  These, in short order, are placed before Brie, Noys, Galen and Hadrian.

Brieanne paced around the room, examining it and the chairs before finally settling in one. She traced the wood grain, and the designs until the bowl was placed in front of her.  

"Now" Ascanius says. "Tell me why you have come seeking my services. Is it the Mycons?"

  "It's the Veniss." Brieanne replied, she was bent over, sniffing at the broth, but her gaze turned toward him, watching for any sign of recognition before she explained.

Alarm dawns on Ascanius' face like the rising sun casts its glow over the leaves of Arden. He takes a sip from his bowl and looks at Brieanne, then Hadrian, then Galen and finally Noys.

"What do you know of that word?" he says. His words are slowly and carefully enunciated with short, precise syllables. He pauses and then continues. "What do you know of them?"

"I know they were here before, in times most don't know exist, lost a great war with another race who have also faded from legend, and the lands changed so that they may not walk freely above ground. I know they have taken hosts and are intent on reclaiming the lands through their victims and using a great many of us as fertilizer. Since I have no intention of losing my home to mushrooms, we need to find a way to stop them. We'd like to find a way to uninfect those they've taken as well. Preferably before I have to set fire to my own greenwood."

She left her explanation at that, leaving room for the others to chime in if they felt the need.

"Ideally" Noys says, "We'd prefer not to kill the hosts. From what we have seen, they appear to be unwilling, trying to escape."

Hadrian nods, taking a sip from his bowl. After he does so, Dora tentatively takes a small sip from his bowl as well.

Galen, for his part, is more intent on the remainder of the furnishings in the hut, as opposed to the conversation.  Brieanne can see his eyes narrow as they alight on various objects.

"I see" Ascanius says, relaxing from his agitated state.  The small man scratches beneath his chin.  "It is so uncommon to have guests who are so well informed."

"The Veniss are indeed one of the Elder Races, of a sort different than you or me." he says.  He takes a sip of his bowl, nods, and takes a second sip before continuing.  "As such, they are difficult to kill by ordinary means."

"But not impossible?" Galen asks, turning to look at the man.

"But not impossible." Ascanius says.  "I do have a formula for an agent which adversely affects the higher mushroom races...the Mycons and the Veniss alike. I do not have large amounts of the ingredients onhand, but it is a relatively simple preparation, if any of you know the basics of cooking food or baking bread."

"What will you give me for that formulation?"

"Money wouldn't mean very much to me, and if it meant much to you, I do not think you would be living here. So, I think what we give will rather heavily depend on what you value."  Brieanne tilted her head, regarding him closely. "If there's something you wish to know? To have? To experience?" She continued to study him, a stray thought briefly causing the sharp gaze to lose focus.

"Though that last is possibly dangerous, even if we could keep you physically safe."

"I prefer to remain in my own realm, thank you." Ascanius replies. "Although I live alone, and have for many years, I would mislike it if I returned here only to learn that I have been gone for a century."

Brieanne seemed to consider that, as if such a worry hadn't occured to her.  

"Oh!" Noys says, in enlightenment.

"The question still stands." Galen prompts.

"It does" Ascanius says.  "I want something rare for my alchemical researches. Something I am sure the five of you can find for me."

"I want a Griffin's feather."

Hadrian, and Dora for that matter,too,  look stone-struck and surprised.

  "Hmm... How fresh?"  Brieanne asked, as she considered the challenge. "And do you need it from a particular place here or just any one of them that we can get our hands on?"

"The fresher, the better." Ascanius says.  "Plucked from a live creature, if you can."

"Isn't that always better?" Noys says,dubiously.

"Griffins are rarer than Dragons, though." Ascanius continues. " In fact, the nearest Griffin I know of is in a land called D..."

"DuMarque." Hadrian says, coming out of his shock.

"DuMarque, yes, that was the place. Surely there are others that people of your talents can discern." the alchemist says.  "But I can tell the difference between an Eagle and a Griffin, if you are off a mind. Not all Griffins are a cross between Lions and Eagles anyway."

"True" Galen admits.  "There are other varieties, some of them in Ghenesh."

  "Well, at least we don't have to walk," Brieanne mused and then she turned to Hadrian with a smile, "and I've never met a griffin. Should we bring it a treat or is this going to be a hit and run? Cause, depending on the dragon, I wouldn't always take the time to explain myself, sometimes it's best just to get what you need and get away before you have to wiggle your way out of something."

"I...I don't know" Hadrian says.  "The Griffin is a bit difficult to explain.  There is only one, he is the protector of our country.  The Griffin is the heraldic symbol of my mother's family.He's magical and the counterpart to the Phoenix of Crie.  I'm, I'm not explaining this well..."  He takes a sip from his bowl.  Dora cranes her neck to do the same.

"It's like the Unicorn of Amber?" Noys suggests.

"Yes" Hadrian sputters, stopping his drinking too suddenly.  "That's exactly it."

"A hit and run might be an ill considered idea, then."  Galen comments to Brieanne.

  "If I want to keep both arms and all my fingers." Brieanne agreed, but with an impish grin.  "But it's not said that we have to pluck that particular griffin, true?"  She looked at her host, "And you having the feather and doing whatever you are going to do,  will that affect the griffin it came from?"

  "It is not sympathetic magic that I intend against a Griffin" Ascanius replies, with a shake of the head  This response results in an immediate relaxation in the attitudes of Hadrian and Dora.

"My specialty, besides potions and formulae, is Syntactic magic. I intend to write formulas using the feather as a quill.  It lends additional power to the spell to use rare feathers in such a manner. Griffin and Phoenix feathers are amongst the rarest and most highly prized for such Art."

"I have only vaguely heard of such magic" Noys says.  "But I have heard that it relies on writing, special alphabets, paper and inks. I suppose special quills make sense in that context" Noys says to Brieanne.

  "Before we come up with additional plans, can we try your griffin?"  Brieanne looks at Hadrian and Dora, willing to let them make the call.

"The Griffin of DuMarque is probably amongst the closest Griffins we could hope to find." Hadrian says.  "If we can find him, of course."

"He lives in isolated, ssacred placess." Dora confirms.  "We sshould go to Castle Azure first to see if there have been ssightings."

"I suppose" Ascanius says, looking at Brieanne "we have a bargain?"

"If we can be quick about this, yes....."  Brieanne's voice trailed off, her expression clearly indicating that her thoughts had abruptly changed. "If it can be done at all..." she continued, but with a distinct change of tone, "or else we will return with something comparable."

"I shall write out the recipe in the meantime." Ascanius says, with the slightest of smiles.  "Even if you are unable to obtain the feather, it will be good practice for me to recall it so, lest it become forgotten. I prefer to keep the formulae memorized rather than written, for obvious reasons."

"Understandable" Noys says.

"We will find it." Galen says, with an edge in his voice. "Do not doubt, daughter of the wood."

"I have faith." Brieanne replied softly, and for a moment Galen had her full attention.  When her gaze returned to the center, it was calm but calculating, the wheels beginning to turn.  She waited for the others to finish the negotiation, distracted, with an occasionaly look around as if she expected to see something.  

With Brieanne otherwise distracted, and quiet, Noys and Hadrian pick up the negotiation, getting mutual assurances between themselves and Ascanius for the exchange of the recipe and the Griffin's feather.  Galen remains quiet, watching Brieanne as much as he watches Ascanius.  Dora remains perched on Hadrian's shoulder, adding her voice here and there.

 Brieanne sat quietly, listening, but not interupting. One finger tracing the designs in the arm of her chair, in a slow thoughtful manner. When  the negotations were finished she stood with the others to bid farewell and then she lifted a hand to invite Dora to her.   "So tell me.... what do you know of this Griffin?" Her gaze wandered from Dora to Hadrian, and her hand drifted down Dora's spine in the same fashion it had traced the design on the chair.

"Well" Hadrian says.  "The Griffin is the national heraldic symbol of DuMarque, as I said. I've heard a priest from Amber say that the Griffin was really the Unicorn in disguise, which makes no sense to me.  The Griffin is a male, after all."

"While Dora, for example, and her unintelligent cousins the forest Wyverns live in the forests of DuMarque" Hadrian continues "The Griffin is an icon of cold weather, of the stark beauty of glaciers, ice and snow. He can instead be found in the mountains, most classically near the largest of the alpine glaciers, Jostedal, Folgefonna and Svartisen."

"It's also said" Hadrian says "that as the power of the Griffin wanes and waxes, so do the cold weather and glaciers of DuMarque"

"I think I would prefer dark forests to being in the sunshine on an icy peak" Galen says wryly.

  "Hmm..." Brieanne kept her finger tips on Dora, idly stroking some moments, resting light on others as she made her way down the steep slope. Her attention drifted in measured glances from Hadrian, to Noys, to Galen, her cheek occasionally tilting toward Dora as she studied each of them.   What made them different. There was the influence of the Pattern to be filtered out first. Then there was the matter of the Shadows. Narrowing down how Hadrian and Dora were alike to each other, but different from Noys and Galen was her next order of business.   Then, how was the cold in Hadrian different than the woodland elements Dora was more in tune with? How did Albernoth compare to the realm of his Court? She doubted she could sort out which came first -- the creature of the affect they had in their realm, but that didn't matter to her as much as isolating their particular hum. The sound, or flavor, that marked them.   She worked on that all the way to the horses.

The quietness of Brieanne reflects on her companions. About the only sound is a soft trilling from Brieanne stroking Dora.   If you had the one sound that marked them. Did you need more to reach them? She considered her Father, but not so much as to reach him. And contemplated what she had done to reach Albernoth. Without knowing him, but knowing which elements to concentrate on, could she reach the Griffin?   Did she want to?   Or could she use this at least as much as Hadrian had used the Trump to track her?

The world is vibrating strings. The music of not only the spheres, but of every thing.

Its something from a book that Brieanne once espied Lorius reading. And for someone so in tune to the songs of Dragons, is it such a leap to go to the song of Dora? Of Hadrian? Of Noys? Of Galen?

Of the Griffin of DuMarque?

Certainly, thought and careful listening will allow Brieanne to find the song of anything and anyone from DuMarque, Griffins included. And to be able to follow that song, across a world and perhaps across worlds. Follow the music, to the source. But first Brieanne must learn to hear. A process that might take some time to perfect enough for Brieanne to follow but once she has learned it, a song that will lead her straight to her goal.

If she wants to spend that time, that is.

"Shift to DuMarque, then?" Hadrian asks.

  "Yes..." Brieanne answered thoughtfully, "but ride clearly to one place and pause, and then clearly to another and pause, rather than all the little shifts in a flow."  She made a gesture, like going up steps with one hand, and let it slide down an even slope. "I am... listening for something, but I need time to hear."

"Listening for something?" Galen says.

"A metaphor, I should think." Noys says.  "Something esoteric, I take it, Brieanne?" 

  "Um.. well... I am really listening for something, but it isn't something I think any of you can hear... so I guess it is like something esoteric." She wasn't certain she had explained that well, but she didn't make another effort.

Noys gives a nod. Galen makes a soft sound of agreement.  

[Brieanne] rolled up onto Polt's back with practiced ease, keeping Dora steady, and then looked at Hadrian expectantly.

Another thought occured to her, a single fingertip settling against pursed lips as her gaze dropped to the side.

"I have someone to ask a question of..... but I am going to try to reach them as I did Albernoth... I hope it goes well. It might be very useful." She turned to Hadrian again. "I can still ride. Polt won't let me fall off."  Her assurance was sincere, as if that might be the greatest worry.

"As long as Polt follows me, we should be able to manage.  So you want us to stop now and again.  Stop and go."

  "You don't need to stop the horses, you just need to stop what you're doing. I'm not sure how the Pattern will affect what I'm trying to do, or if I'll be able to tune it out, or .... I don't know. So I have to try it both ways."

"Now I get it" Hadrian says "Alternate real riding with shadowshifting."  

"Do you need me to lead?" Noys says to Hadrian.

"No, no." Hadrian says.  "I need the practice."

Without much further ado, everyone is on horses. Hadrian is in the lead, Noys is in the rear, leaving Brieanne and Galen in the middle. A line of horses and riders to lead away from Ascanius' Last Homely House, and into shadow once again, a punctuated ride toward the mountain iciness of Hadrian's home.

And while that occurs...Brieanne can make her attempt.

What's the plan?

Brieanne waited until things around her had started to change, one Shadow slowly sliding into another and then she turned her thoughts to Mith. Trying to 'hear' her sometimes mentor and guardian as well as draw the elderly face in her mind.   If there was anyone who knew anything about the Griffin, Brieanne had faith that Mith would. And likely a tidbit or two even Hadrian's countrymen didn't know.

It takes a couple of tries for Brieanne to reach Mith. Through the shadow changes, Brieanne has nothing and cannot reach her, no matter how hard she tries. Brieanne's supposition that shadow shifting with the pattern disturbs the ability to hear her and mentally draw her trump.

It takes a couple of tries for Brieanne to reach Mith.  Through the shadow changes, Brieanne has nothing and cannot reach her, no matter how hard she tries. Brieanne's supposition that shadow shifting with the pattern disturbs the ability to hear her and mentally draw her trump.

In between, on a flat plain that has a wall of mountains in the distance, as Hadrian changes up shifting for pure riding, leading the group, Brieanne finally is able to make contact.

"You have evidently learned much, Brieanne, to speak with me in this way." comes the voice of Mith in her head. "What do you and the dragonet seek, little one?"

Inadvertently, with her riding with Brieanne, Dora has apparently managed to be part of the contact.

  A moment of surprise delays Brieanne's answer, a guilty moment for not having meant to bring Dora along, but relieved that this didn't seem to be an issue.   "Hello. Mith, this is Dora, she is bonded to my cousin Hadrian, and I have been working on a few things." Brieanne grinned, pleased with her accomplishment.  "We're on our way to find the Griffin of DuMarque and ask for a feather to trade for a recipie to help battle the Veniss before they reach into my Greenwood. I was hoping you would have advice on some of it....."  She waited hopefully.  "The Griffin, or the Veniss..."

  "I'm pleassed to meet you." Dora says.

"Greetings, Little dragon, Companion to Hadrian."  Mith says.

"The Griffin of DuMarque and the Fungi People, Brieanne?"  Mith says."Yes, I know of both. You have introduced me to someone new, and for that, I will answer one of your questions."

"Two questions will demand an additional price, I think, Brieanne." Mith adds with a tone of mirth.

  "MMmmmm..... How about a picnic so they can tell you about our trip this morning to the Court of the Silver Dawn? And then I can introduce you to Galen, who's a Moonrider, and my cousin Noys as well. I think Pollux would call that a... bonus pack..."  She seemed to think it was a more than fair trade, but she waited for Mith's verdict on the subject.   "You bargain like a Dragon" Mith says, but the words are not unkind.

"Iss it a deal?" Dora interjects, excitedly. "And don't forget about introducing Hadrian!" Dora admonishes Brieanne.

  "Never." Brieanne assured Dora, even if it might have looked as if she had.  

"Prepare your picnic and contact me, then." Mith says.  "I shall come, and meet with the child of Luna Triumphant, and your cousins, and there tell you all the answers you seek."

"Is that fair, little dryadling?" Mith finishes.

  "It is." Brieanne beamed, finding her old friend much easier to bargain with than the alchemist.

"Good Fare thee well, little one." Mith says, and ends the contact.   As soon as the contact dropped, Brieanne put a heel to Polt and hurried up to the front.   "We need to find a good spot for a picnic...."  Polt spun slowly in place, almost dancing as Brieanne searched for a good place. Finding nothing, she turned back to Hadrian and Noys.

"A picnic?" Noys says.

Galen furrows his eyebrows but says nothing. Hadrian cocks his head toward Brieanne and Dora. The latter shifts slightly on Brieanne and winks as Brieanne speaks.   "We need a place with really big trees... the biggest we can get to quickly, someplace where there aren't people anywhere close, where men with axes haven't been... no steal... best if we can have a pond or pool with still water."  She spoke quickly and then brightened. "Think of Arden, but move away from Arden! Something primal."   She waited, watching them, and Polt shifted restless, ready to on the way at a moment's notice. "I have a friend to tell us about the Griffin and the Veniss for the price of a picnic, introductions and your stories about visiting the dragons."  She gestured with her hands, indicating that they should be moving briskly now.   "I'm not sure I can find a primal forest that is not Arden" Hadrian says doubtfully. "It's the only one I know..."

"Relax, cousin" Noys says "I will handle *this*. I know just the place. I'll lead."

"Let's go, then" Galen says.

In an hour, Noys' shadowshifting has done wonders. The cliff of the hermit Ascanius has given away to a dense forest of tall lodgepole pines. N0one of these trees has ever seen the wake of man. The group is on an animal path, on a high ridge. To both sides of the path can be glimpsed water through the trees, suggesting the group now is on an isthmus or peninsula of some sort.

"We're not too far from Weirmonken, but there are no Weir or humans here" she says proudly. "The trail will lead to a point on this peninsula that dips and reaches the glass-still lake directly. Pleasant and verdant, I promise."' Noys says.

"It is nice, cool and dark here" Galen says, with a tone of gratitude.

"I wish I had my pencils and pad handy" Hadrian laments.

  "We need treats... and wine! Only things that can be eaten with your fingers and nothing that's been cut with a knife."

Galen blinks uncertainly.

"Wine is easy enough. Things that can be eaten with fingers..." Noys looks at Hadrian, who nods. "Got it."   Brieanne slipped from Polt, diverging from the path slightly to hunt the length of the path for the perfect spot. Her bare feet left no trail, except the one the hounds could follow, and she chose an opening with a very large rock. The land curved like a bowl with the flat rock sitting at the edge like a gem on a ring. The tip of the peninsula was visible through the trees, with the lake as a panorama beside them.   Brieanne crouched in the middle, hands and feet on the earth as she listened to the forest breathe. Satisfied by each sense in turn, she quickly got about the next order of business. Which first involved stopping the horses before they came in.   "We need to take off their tack. It all has to stay out of the circle."  She made a little shooing motion, not even wondering if they could see it the way she did."We'll make a corral with rope if we must, or trust Polt and the boys to keep them here."   "And we need something for Mith to sit on..... I'll do that."  She knew what she wanted. It was in the storage room at her fathers. Old cushions and blankets they'd used during bonfires... which she decided would be better than new things. The used ones would feel most interesting.   The storage by the barn. She took a moment to concentrate before stepping through.

"And she is gone" comes the voice of Noys, just as Brieanne steps through the mentally constructed trump and is gone.

The storage shed is a very familiar place to Brieanne, her brother, and if she had seen the destination, Noys as well. The Twins, too. The building of granite and thatch was a common place for Brieanne to explore within, and hide in, as she desired.

Inside are a plethora of blankets,  cushions and other paraphernalia most recently used at the last Festival of the Unicorn, scant days ago.    In a flurry of activty Brieanne assembled a sizable stack of cushions, no less than four large blankets, extra rope, a set of roughly blown glassware in a whicker basket from the house and a series of woodchimes several rangers had whiddle one year.   She Trumped Noys to return, and  since there was no hope of her being able to carry it all in one trip herself she began handing cushion through. "And these! And this, and I have the rest."

"Maybe you should have trumped Hadrian" Noys says wryly as she starts ferrying things through the trump.

  She came through herself, hopping over the cushions Noys had been forced to drop, and arranged ... and then rearranged the first three blankets. The cushions were next, some of them, some for Mith, and a second spot for Mith just in case the first didn't do. The last blanket went up into the trees, stretched out branch to branch and secured with lengths of rope so that if formed a high celing.  The windchimes dangled from the branches at two corners and she paused to listen intently, making certain they were as pleasant as she remembered them being.   When she felt done with the part she had assigned herself, she looked around to see how everyone else was doing.

By the time Brieanne has arranged the seating arrangements,Polt and the horses have been corralled with a crude rope barrier.  Hadrian (with Galen's help) has set out a picnic with bottles of what must be wine, along with clay bowls full of berries, and flat pieces of some sort of bread or cracker.

"So who is that we are meeting?" Galen says.

  "Mith' le akrea." Brieanne answered. It was a statement, as if all the information he could possible need was contained in those five syllables.

Galen shoots a puzzled look at Hadrian and Noys.

  She stepped over to the rock, which sloped gently toward her, like a dance floor ever so slightly tipped.  She took a final look around, took note of where the hounds were, drew a deep breath to settle herself and once again reached for her elderly mentor.

The hounds were clustered around Polt, but move closer as Brieanne settles herself. Perhaps remembering from last time, Dora lifts off from Brieanne, and hovers, letting her wings beat like a large hummingbird as she remains just above Brieanne's shoulder.

Under these conditions, Brieanne can thus reach out for The Grandmother.  The contact comes quickly and easily.

"I see that you have prepared a place for me" she says "I thank you kindly."  She offers her hand to Brieanne and is thus brought across. She does not sit, but instead looks around with large brown eyes and then focuses on Brieanne expectantly.

  Brieanne, let the wrinkled hand rest in hers and when Mith was through, she reached up to settle Dora with her free hand.   "You've met Dora, this is her bonded and my cousin, Hadrian, my cousin Noys, and Galen Miriamson of the Moonriders." She indicated each in turn.

"Hi" Hadrian says.

"Hello" Noys adds melodiously, with a nod and a smile.

"Greetings" Galen says.

"Well now, young ones, let me sit down , we will break bread, and we will exchange our tales." Mith alights on the cushion that Brieanne set out. She closes her eyes slightly, listening to the sound of the tinkling wind chimes.

"What next?" Hadrian asks Brieanne, sotto voce.

  Brieanne's only answer was to silently wave him off.... or down, as the case might have been since she promptly chose a seat close to Mith. She sat both hounds on their haunches with another gesture, cueing them to 'stay' as well, and then set about making a plate of all the best bits, plus a goblet of wine which she placed in front of Mith.

The reactions out of the corner of Brieanne's eyes are a wide spread. Galen is calculating, watchful and attentive, mainly on Mith. Hadrian doesn't quite have a hurt look on his face, but when he sits, his body language is definitely that of someone who realizes he has been chastened.

Noys, however, is not looking at Mith at all. As she sits, her attention is completely and utterly focused on Brieanne. It might even be considered borderline rude on her part that she is paying attention to her cousin, and not at all at the guest/stranger in her midst.   She fixed one for herself next, not speaking until Mith was ready for the conversation to begin.

Mith starts sampling the berries, the Flatbrød, and cheese. In between a bite of each, she takes a tiny sip of the wine.

"This is acceptable" Mith finally says to Brieanne. "Thank you. Please..." she gestures to everyone (and Noys finally starts looking at Mith) but she returns her gaze to Brie at the last. "Start"

"Chaosians led to a visit to Menuis, but I found Aspera to be quite rude, though I am now left wondering about this .....what did she say...'Time of the Sixth Sun' or some such..." Brieanne paused, popping a grape in her mouth. Her gaze focused on a point n the air ahead of her, though she watched Mith in the periphery of her vision.

"All in all a rather disappointing visit and not at all the impression I wanted my friends left with, so I... well... I called Albernoth. I wasn't sure I could, but you never know until you try, and he was ever so much more gracious." The change in Brieanne's tone and body language illustrated her feelings about the old white. Her shoulders shrugged up and while she didn't giggle or pause, it was clear the feelings were warm and fuzzy.

"We were invited to Court and introductions were made and we kept Galen safe with a trip to the Pearl... but it would really better if they told you." She leaned toward Mith, her nose wrinkling slightly, a motion that fit the impish grin as she gazed at Hadrian, Noys and Galen.

"The Pearl Court" Hadrian takes up Brieanne's cue with brio.  "I take it, Brieanne, that this is an exception to the prohibition on talking about it.  Any way, we saw the early morning and the sunrise there, as well as the beautiful colors of the canyon, and a sheaf of relatively friendly dragons who apparently live there.  Ruled by the old white one that my cousin just mentioned." Hadrian says.

"I was pleaßed to meet them" Dora adds.

 "It was amazing. It is certainly worth a visit, revered elder." Hadrian says.

"I think our guest lives in that shadow." Galen interrupts.

"Yes, child" Mith says gravely. "But it is refreshing to hear of it from new voices. Brieanne has rarely allowed members of her family or friends from this world to see our world."

 Mith then returns her gaze toward Brieanne.

  "It just seems like some things... some pieces of my life, just shouldn't mix too much.. and I don't often want to share." Brieanne admitted. "But it was a lovely time..."

"Yes, it was!" Noys agrees.

She let that thought trail off and then went back to her narration. "We returned to Amber and Father directed me to a town with odd reports of fungus... and it turns out that was understating things. Mushrooms everywhere and people possessed and threatening to use us as fertilizer. It was quite creepy... and I don't feel icky about very many things!" Brieanne sounded distinctly displeased by the fact that someone had accomplished this. "I know where the trees have stayed above the turmoils most of the land has gone through, so I went to them for their memories. It's a very good thing I had Noys and the others, or I think I might have gotten lost. Not that they meant to steal me, but they are so old and so deep and I am just very little in comparison. I'm not even sure they knew I was there...." She paused, thinking on that for a moment.   "Old Trees are set in their ways and their mind." Mith says. "I am not surprised that they tried to absorb you, even given your own power and strength.  You should not consider it an attack or a weakness of your skills."

"It is good that you have friends" the old woman adds, looking at Noys, Hadrian, Dora, and Galen.

"And so you have come to ask me what I know of the Veniss, haven't you?" Mith says, pointing a bony finger at Brieanne, but clearly including her companions in the orbit of the small circle her right index finger makes.

"You know the name." Galen says.

"I know far more." Mith says, looking from Galen back at Brie.

  For a very brief moment, Brieanne looked satisfied... almost smug, her faith in her elderly mentor once again validated.  

"We have to fight them. They've taken over a town at the edge of the Greenwood and looking to do more. There is an alchemist who will give us a compound.. a potion? to deal with them for the price of a Griffin's feather. He really wants one from The Griffin... and I think, with a bit of work, I can reach a Being like that who I don't know just as I reached you and Albernoth. I might test it on the Unicorn first because I'm hoping she won't be so terribly peeved as he might be, but anything you can tell us, will be a tremendous help." "I would not test such an idea on the Unicorn of Amber, Lithathar Neu Ar Shel." Mith says to Brieanne, intoning her faerie name with serious gravity with every gravelly syllable. "Even if you succeeded, you would regret the cost of doing so.  She would turn such a visit to her own purposes, and your plans lost or altered beyond recognition.  Or, worse, she would become angry."

"I have never heard that of the Unicorn." Noys says.

"You would not." Mith replies.

  Brieanne sat a little straighter, almost leaning back, at the intonation of her name. The warning apparently taken quite seriously.  

"A Griffin's feather from the Griffin.  DuMarque, if I miss my guess, would be a potent reagent to give this alchemist that you met.  It might even be an overpayment for a potion to deal with the Veniss.  However, getting one from him rather than a mortal griffin would bind the alchemist to make the most potent potion he can.  To reach The Griffin, your friend here would tell you almost as well as I."  She looks at Hadrian, who looks surprised.  Mith goes on  "But what your friend may not know is that you should bring a treasure as an offering. Something rare, something that has been in the hoard or keeping of another for a long time.  A newly forged bauble holds no appeal to him."  

  "Oh....." Brieanne sank a little. "I have one of those..... Gaz gave it to me...." She looked sad and more than a little reluctant at the idea of parting with it, and then her expression popped with excitement. "The music box! I swiped it from Necromath's hoard! I gave everything else to Ganeleon and Mar Tryline for their new lair, but I kept that for myself. Maybe it would work?" Her hopeful tone was unmistakeable, and her attention shifted, visibly withdrawing from the group as she focused far away. It took her a moment to concentrate on her trophy before she reached to pluck it off the shelf as she had taken clothes from her closet.  Once retrieved, she offed it to Mith.   The little box was shaped like a harp, but with little feet, as if it were a piano, made of pewter and inlaid with saphires. The lid was inlaid with a coat of arms Brieanne did not recognize.. There was a small wind up knob on the bottom, and when the lid was opened it played sweetly. She imagined it had been a gift to someone's daughter, but like so many of her treasures, its history was completely unknown and there was certainly no way to ask the previous owner.

"You stole that from a dragon?" Hadrian says incredulously. Dora gives off a hiss of surprise as well.

"I'm not entirely surprised." Noys says thoughtfully.

  "Not a nice one," Brieanne answered Hadrian and Dora in a slightly defensive tone, "and I was very careful."  

Galen leans forward to look at the small box even as Mith examines it. Even though she never physically touches it with her fingers, the way she runs her hands over it suggests a deep and abiding investigation of the object.  Finally, Mith withdraws her hand, clucks her tongue and smiles.

"Yes, Brieanne, I think this will do nicely.  It is even sweeter given how important it is to you." Mith says.  "Yes, this would be a suitable gift to the Lord of Earth, Air and Ice."

  Brieanne let the music play a moment longer and closed the lid. "It is lovely, isn't it." She admired it another moment and then let her hands settle into her lap. "And I'm unlikely to go pilfering from Necromaths again..." The admission was wry and she shrugged as she looked back up at Mith. "What do we need know to reach the Griffin?"

  "You need to be able to find your way to Khan Tengri, on the border between DuMarque and Crie.  This is the Mountain where the Griffin is sighted in DuMarque.  Wind your way up the Mountain Path, making the three ablutions at the Three Shrines. At the third shrine, near the summit, then you should be able to cause the Griffin to appear, with your gift." The old woman smiles. "I would exit the shrine before opening your music box and displaying it to the sky to attract him."

  "I can get us there, Brieanne." Hadrian says "I have a trump for the base of the mountain. I followed the path once, with Dora."

"And snuck into Crie afterwards." Dora adds, with a laugh.

Brieanne glanced uncertainly at Hadrian and Dora, nodding because getting there was good, and then finally got around to her question.

"Ablutions...? I need to take a bath?" It wouldn't be the strangest thing she'd ever done, but it seemed out of place when dealing with a Griffin on a mountain.

"A bath? No." Hadrian says.  "But there are rituals of cleansing oneself with the pure driven snow of the mountain. Not full baths, but more of a washing of the hands and face."

"To prepare one to be open to the Griffin" Dora explains.

"In a sense, it is a bath, little one" Mith says.  "A bath for the spirit and soul.  It makes the person ready to have the potential of meeting the Griffin, even if they never do."

"It is similar to some rites of the Church of the Unicorn." Noys says thoughtfully.

Galen nods as well, deep in thought.

  She nodded once... very, very slowly, jaw dropped ever so slightly as if she were about to speak. Instead she simply looked perplexed as she looked around the group. She was quick to grasp the fact that she was the only one who found this to be odd.   "If you all... insist. But it seems rather silly to me. How is meeting the Griffin that much different than meeting you? Or Albernoth. Or even Gazalarnith? And I don't need a bath of any sort then... though gifts for Albernoth would have been a nice idea if I had been quick enough to think of it." She pursed her lips as that occured to her, making a mental note to look for something for him the next time she was out and about.

"Its a matter of the Griffin's identity and nature, Brieanne." Noys says, gently, after a moment. "To the people of DuMarque, perhaps even to our cousin and friend." she glances at Hadrian "the Griffin holds the same place that many in Amber feel about the Unicorn. The Unicorn, not just a random unicorn that you might find in your shadow."

"Your young friend is right." Mith says. "Meeting the Griffin of DuMarque is not merely a matter of finding the Griffin--its being in a state of being to allow him to meet you."

Hadrian quietly nods in agreement.

  "Hmmm...." Brieanne was still frowning slightly, wrinkled brow lending a perplex air to her expression. She rearranged herself so that she could prop her chip up on her knee, her arms wrapped loosely around the supporting leg while the other leg was folded beneath her. She was quiet for a long moment, taking her time to mull the matter. Then she tilted her head, listening to the chimes singing faintly above them, lips pursed.   "Well, it's not quite the same thing, but I suppose it will do." She muttered to herself, giving a nod as she looked around. "Okay. If I have to take a bath of sorts, so be it. I can make it work." She sat up straighter, uncoiling now that she'd settled the matter for herself, once again focused out at the group.   "Do you think he'll be concerned enough with everything that he'll agree to help us?"

"I think the recent time of troubles might be good for us there." Noys says. "All that mess with Apollo and shadowstorms and Omphalos...if all of that hasn't already gotten him anxious and awake, nothing iwe could do s going to perturb the Griffin.  Did you see any signs of it, there, Hadrian?  Dora?

Hadrian nods. "There was a very bad spring blizzard which socked in the Castle, when I trumped in there to get food.  They are digging out with our usual industriousness, though."

"The Mountains gleam" Dora adds sibilantly.

"Can we then stick to evening and night travel?" Galen asks.

Mith says nothing, but just smiles.

  "I don't mind." Brieanne replied to Galen, but she was watching Mith from the corner of her eye

"I don't suppose you have any last words for us?" She addressed her elder, wondering what thoughts made her smile but not willing to ask directly.

"I do" Mith says. "Beware of impetuously crossing the border into Crie. The desert land of the Phoenix is not for you, Lithathar Neu Ar Shel. Do not let your curiosity be your downfall."

"And remember." Mith rises, taking a piece of Hadrian's Crisp Bread as she does so. "The Veniss are older, but there are older things in this world. See that they do not forget that."

And with that, the old woman softly and silently vanishes away, leaving Brieanne, Noys, Hadrian, Dora, and Galen all alone.

"And that," Brieanne sighed, "is that." She was silent a moment, then stretched and then settled again. "Though I do wonder how we're supposed to remind them that they aren't the oldest things..." She pursed her lips briefly as she contemplated Mith's final remark but then shrugged it off.

"I guess we are ready when you are." She looked to Galen, acknowledging his need, but not inconvenienced or bothered by it.

Hadrian stares at the spot where Mith disappeared. Galen is already collecting himself, Dora has elected to perch on Hadrian's shoulder, and the hounds move back in after staying somewhat distant from Mith.

"Your majesty." Noys says aloud. There is a few moments of her trump call, for that is what it clearly is, She then nods, glances at Brieanne, Hadrian and Dora.

Brieanne turned, attentive and curious when she heard Noys' greeting.

"Cousins, I am going to have to depart. You see, someone has unexpectedly turned up in Amber and is now speaking to the King. I'm needed."

"My brother. A son of Eric." she clarifies.

Brieanne's eyebrows shot up. "Truly?" She settled back slightly, absorbing the detail. "At this rate I'm going to be the only one without a surprise. And I would be very, very surprised." Judging by the tone, she wouldn't be amused.

"If you need me. Call. Even if you can't reach a card, I might be able to hear you.. you'll just need to concentrate a longer..." She reached out for Noys hand, fingers gripping slightly to say good bye before she released Noys' hand.

"I might need to do that." Noys says seriously. As Brieanne grips Noys hand, she very, very briefly gets an impression of King Random. Sitting nearby is a man, muscular, that she does not recognize. Presumably. this is the brother.

Noys squeezes Brieanne's fingers back, and lets them go with a sisterly smile. Its clear that Noys knew and permitted Brieanne to get the glimpse.

Noys appears to speak into connection for a moment or two longer and then turns to look at everyone.

"Wish me luck."

And with that, Noys disappears.

"I wonder if this brother of Noys came to Amber because of Valerian, too." Hadrian says. "Just like he visited me, and many of the rest of us."

"I suppose we can ask when we see her next..." Brieanne regards the spot where Noys had been for a moment more before turning away. "For now we rest and wait for dusk?"

"Traveling during twilight or dusk would be best for me." Galen says, unabashedly.

"I believe that I can keep the sun on the horizon as we shift." Hadrian says. "We start at dusk, and we stay at dusk." He looks at Brieanne. "We want to go straight for the mountain, or did you want to stop anywhere first. Or..." He looks at Brieanne, his eyes brightening with a sudden idea.

"It might be even easier and faster if we started within DuMarque, but to do that, I would trump us to Castle Azure. There aren't a lot of forested areas to spend the night in." Hadrian bites his lip. "I've gotten the feeling you don't like big stone buildings isolated from the sky, earth and trees."

"We could start at one of the cabins in the mountains, too." Dora points out. "We have trumps of those too." she offers.

"No...." Brieanne shook her head, "I don't want to spend the night in a castle, though I suppose a cabin might be okay. I should probably return this first." She looked around at everything she'd brought for their meeting with Mith.

Hadrian looks at the blankets, baskets, pillows and other things.  With sudden realization, he runs a hand through his hair.

"I had not considered the logistics of returning everything.  He looks at Brieanne.  "Perhaps if we work together, we might construct a gate to make it easier to return the items? Perhaps Galen can help tote and carry while we open the gate. Then we can proceed to getting to a cabin in DuMarque and seeing to mountain climbing."

"I begin to see." Galen says with dry amusement "why Noys departed so abruptly."

  Brieanne gave a short laugh and shook her head. "No, if someone is going to vanish to dodge work, I assure you it would be me."  

She looked around, pursed her lips and then stood. "We drop the blanket," she pointed to the one she'd made a shade with, "and pile everything onto it. It'll go through in one sloppy heave-ho and I shall apologize as needed, though I think what we're up to gives us a bit of room for not being so tidy on the return." "Understood" Hadrian says "I just don't want your brother persecuting me again."

"Or the Lord of Arden" Galen says thoughtfully.

She dismissed both threats with a shake of her head. "You're with me."

She headed for the trees, intent on doing the drop herself. The end result was sloppy, like a giant child had decided to run away and crammed items of comfort into a kerchief but forgotten his stick. The woodchimes were one of the few carefully placed pieces, wrapped so that they stayed safe. She faced it for a moment and then took hold of the gathered corners, bracing her feet as if she were really going to haul it.

She'd spun a spell around in her fight with the Chaosian wizard, kept the focal point of a Trump in motion until she'd reversed the tragectory. She'd had a tool then, could she duplicate the effort without it, but with a familiar, just been there target?

Eyes closed, weight on her toes, she concentrated on revolving in a limited fashion so that the place came around the bundle and she could then step back out.

The revolutions and the concentrations bend the idea of a Trump. Without her previous aid, its a tougher stretch, but not impossible. Brieanne can feel the flow of trump energies. A soft sound from Hadrian, hardly heard in Brieanne's concentration, suggests that he is at least partially aware of what Brieanne is attempting to do.

It definitely is a stretch, but in the end, the bindle collection of picnic items is safely and tidily gone.

The only side effect for Brieanne is a sudden and inescapable case of vertigo the moment she opens her eyes.. The world spins around, the trees blurring in their rapid spin around her. Hadrian and Galen's forms blur together into a ring as Brieanne's stomach threatens to deliver its contents, violently.

Brieanne paled with the unfamiliar and extremely unpleasant dizziness. She promptly went to her knees, hands bracing firmly against the ground, rear end sitting on her heels as she closed her eyes and waited for the misery to pass. When it did finally, at least enough for her to risk opening her eyes again, she looked around meekly.

"At least there wasn't anything really breakable...." She muttered, sitting up slightly and very curious as to what had happened to the things she had sent through. "Though I don't think I want to do that again..." "You look awful" Hadrian says.

"What did you do?" Galen says, kneeling next to Brieanne. After a moment, he looks questioningly at Hadrian.

"If I had to guess..." Hadrian looked at Dora and after a few moments, nodded to her. He looked at Galen "If I had to guess, you tried to use a Kleinsche Flasche variation on the Trump, didn't you, Brieanne? You passed the trump through a severe change in shape and effect?"

"I don't know what you'd call it...." She glanced at Hadrian, with only a tiny shake of her head, "but I spun the Trump around the stuff to place it where it should be rather than trying to haul it through. I did it against a spell, when I went to get Galen from the Chaosians, and it worked perfectly. Mage had to eat his own work." Feeble though it was, she sounded pleased with herself for a moment, then she sighed. "But I guess it works better when you have an actual Trump to use instead of just using your head... cause this doesn't feel good."

"Hadrian is right." Dora adds sibilantly. "But you should rest before we discuss Trump Theory."

She rested another moment and then looked up thoughtfully. "Though.. if I'm ever in a fight over a Trump, it might be a very useful way to get rid of the other person.... assuming I'm somewhere I can collapse safely afterward."

"Well, there are theories in DuMarque on how to do what you attempted to do, but without anguish. It involves using the Kleinsche Flasche and projecting the twist along..."

"Hadrian" Dora interrupts.

"Okay, okay." Hadrian says. "No theory right now. Sorry, cousin."

Galen, watching and listening, just shakes his head.

Brieanne nodded, took another moment to compose herself and then looked up.

"Ok. We were going, yes?" She made the effort to stand with a slow inhale, waiting to see if the world started doing anything unpleasant before she dared to take a step.

"We are going." Hadrian says. He starts concentrating into a card. As Brieanne's vertigo fluctuates, the Moonrider watches Brieanne carefully. The hounds, too, look a bit concerned for Brieanne's well being, the elder darker hellhound giving off a soft chuff.

"It would be undignified for you to collapse again." Galen says. Without further preamble, he reaches out to pick up Brieanne in his arms. It is perhaps their intutiion that this gesture is not immediately countered by Briarsting and Smoketredder.

But will Brieanne?

There was a twitch that ran through Brieanne, a brief flare of tension that caused her brow to furrow and her eyes to narrow as she focused on the outstretched hands. Then thought caught up with reflex and she nodded weakly.

"Yes, it would be." She agreed, grudgingly accepting that it was yet again a possibility. "One day," she sighed, "I will learn to pace myself."

But for now she closed her eyes and let her head rest on Galen's shoulder.

Closing her eyes is a very good idea, given her state. In fact, even before Galen carries her through the trump, closed eyes turn into a deep, restful and regenerative sleep...

Brieanne awakens to the smell of something cooking--soup, perhaps, and the sound of a crackling fire.

"Hello" Hadrian says, once Brieanne opens her eyes. He is standing some distance away, and Brieanne discovers she is in a small wooden cabin. Between him and Brieanne, who has found herself sleeping under covers in a narrow bed, are the two hellhounds, loyally and implacably guarding her.

"Once we put you in the bed, your hounds did not brook us meddling with your rest." Galen, from a corner chair says.

"Yeah....." The reply draws out and Brieanne ducks into the covers for a long yawn, arms and back stretching before she twisted, the movement rolling back up the other way so that she stretched the other side too and returned to face them again. "They get like that."

She stayed where she was for the moment, now well tucked in and peering out at them with still bleary eyes.

She glanced around for windows, wondering what time it was, and then her attention turned out, reaching for the world beyond the cabin walls. Listening.

There are a couple of small, high windows in the cabin, with good glass allowing somewhat wan sunlight to filter down into the space. Its difficult to tell the time of day from that light however, and so when Brieanne reaches out, she finds out much more.

The soft sounds of winter birds, the sighing of sleepy fir, pine, hemlock and other coniferous trees tells Brieanne it is early morning, in a cold land not as far removed from winter as her home greenwood is, and never is. Brieanne can sense no oak, willow, elm, birch or other trees of that nature here.

"I think you probably should have some onion soup to fortify you before we head on out." Hadrian says. "It's almost ready. There is also some nice hard cheese that has been stored here for us."

She yawned, extracting herself from the blankets enough to sit up. "Soup is good." She sniffed and then settled the blanket around her comfortably, clearing not interested in getting up just yet.

"I feel sleepy as the trees... and only the soft woods make it here. My kind freeze..." She looked out past the walls and windows for a moment and then turned back to her companions.

"I had thought..." Hadrian says "given that you didn't like the desert, that a realm with lots of trees would be okay for you."

"Letss get her ssome ssoup" Dora suggests. Hadrian starts to busy himself with filling an ornately carved wooden bowl with the onion soup. The bowl is placed on a plate, and Hadrian continues with cheese and some sort of biscuit or cracker

"I take it the torrid jungle is just as poor for your health, Brieanne?" Galen says.

"Umm..." Brieanne tilted her head, her focus inward for a moment. "Not quite... I've never stopped to think about it really." She glanced up at Hadrian and accepted the plate with a deeply appreciative 'Thank you."

Hadrian nods. "A recipe from one of my cousins. One of my DuMarque cousins, that is."

"It's not so much that I will fair poorly here, but it will be different. Here is like twilight for me," she looked to phrase things in how she saw things work for him

"It will not hurt me, but it might not give me everything my greenwood can, a jungle I think might be the same... similar enough in some ways, but I cannot assume to know how things will work for me. There are liberties I might not be able to take here that I could risk at home. With time I could stretch the boundaries, but ..." she shrugged, a mouth full of soupy bread stemming the tide of words.

"We shall see." She finished her thought and concentrated for a few minutes on her food.

"So it is not quite like the noonday sun for me, but it is not the pleasantness of the golden hour, twilight or night either, as I see it." Galen says. Not too long after, as Brieanne samples the soup, cheese and crispbread (which is not overly spiced but clearly is designed to be filling), Hadrian has produced two more meals, one for himself and one for Galen. Dora seems content to sample from Hadrian's bowl and plate.

"Mmmm... yes...." Though she still seemed to be mulling something over.

Not too long after, as Brieanne samples the soup, cheese and crispbread (which is not overly spiced but clearly is designed to be filling), Hadrian has produced two more meals, one for himself and one for Galen. Dora seems content to sample from Hadrian's bowl and plate.

Perhaps inspired by this. Briarsting looks up at Brieanne and the food hopefully but does not exert himself unduly to try and get anything from her. Smoketredder just sits quietly nearby, with more dignity.

Brieanne tossed them bits as she ate, bites vanishing midair with occasionally audible snaps. Briarsting edged closer, scooting, rearranging and generally doing his doggy best to be subtle about it.

When they were finished, she got up, finished the last bite herself, and looked for a place to put the dishes. She couldn't cook, but she could at least help clean up....

By the time Brieanne stands up, she feels fine. Normal, even. If it was the meal, rest, time, or any combination of the three, she feels right as rain. In short order, with her leading the way, the dishes are put in a basin and with water fetched from a pump outside, soon cleaned and dried. Other detritus is brought outside by Hadrian.

"It looks like a beautiful day" Hadrian says, when he comes back inside. "Very bright and sunny. The temperature may even get above zero today, from the looks of it."

"Your thoughts?" Galen prompts of Brieanne.

Get above zero.... She stared blankly at Hadrian while she processed that particular bit of information and the fact that it was 'might get above zero'. Galen's voice intruded and she turned to stare at him, then down at the hounds and then finally back to Hadrian.

"I... might need a coat." Was all she could think of. As much as she knew Galen would prefer something other than sunny, she wasn't sure she could bear to give that up. "I would prefer not to be exposed to the sun." Galen says. "The cold is of little import to me."

"Ja" Hadrian says. "I can fix this."

Over the next few minutes, Hadrian opens a trump, steps through it, and then opens another trump back to the front of the cabin. In his arms are two coats, one fur coat that clearly is sized to fit Brieanne, and one of some other material, in dark color, and long, which is sized for Galen. The latter includes something that looks like dark glasses. Hadrian is also wearing a new coat, which looks much lighter than the two heavy coats he has provided.

"There are glovess in the pockets, too." Dora points out.

Brieanne accepted the coat, slipping it on and examining herself in it. "I'm fluffier than you!" She leaned down, teasing Briarsting and then trotted to the door. Briarsting looks up curiously at the sight of Brieanne in a DuMarquean fur coat and thumps his tail once. He follows, as does Smoketredder.

"I am ready when you are." She fastened at least the top half shut, but she didn't look for gloves, assuming Dora had meant Galen.

It does turn out that Brieanne's coat does have gloves, as does Galen's. He shows no hesitation in getting the gloves on, as well as buttoning his jacket, putting on the glasses and the hat. Most of his skin, except some of his face, is covered from the sun.

Brieanne left the gloves in the pocket, along with the music box. If she needed her bow, the gloves would only get in her way.

"DuMarque" Hadrian says, stepping out ahead of Brieanne and waiting for his companions. It is indeed, cold, at least on Brieanne's face. The fur coat is remarkably warm, and Galen doesn't seem to be complaining either. Behind him, a tall mountain looms...

Actually, lots of mountains do. This place seems to be nothing but mountains and boreal forest. Hadrian is pointing at the most prominent of the mountains, one separated from the others, and slightly taller.

"This one is Khan Tengri." Hadrian indicates, grandly. "We're right now about 2000 meters above the sea. The mountain summit is another 2500 meters above us. We're a half mile from the start of the path that leads up there. I don't see any other sign of pilgrims, so we might have the entire climb to ourselves. The shrines are evenly placed one third, two thirds and at the summit."

"Okay." Brieanne gazed up at the summit. "That looks like a very long walk. Do we want to shorten it, or are we supposed to set foot on the whole path?" She gazed steadily at where she supposed the start of the path was, visibly measuring the distance, but at the same time she started forward, willing to put in the work if that's what was required.

"If we are trying to do this right" Hadrian says, starting his steps to keep up "we need to walk it. Besides" he says "only a few people are allowed to make trumps of the various shrines, in case of emergencies. I am not ordained, and thus have not been allowed to make any."

"You would make a poor priest." Dora teases. "And Dulcinea would be dissappointed."

The redness that comes to Hadrian's face is clearly not from the cold.

Brieanne laughed quietly, winking at Dora.

Galen chuffs. "Let's just keep going. People are expected to make this climb in a reasonable amount of time, aren't they?"

"Yes" Hadrian says, with a tone of gratitude. "We CAN make the summit in a long day in summer. It might be night by the time we make the summit, but we can do it." Hadrian points ahead. "There are only a few places where this gets tricky and dangerous. Its mainly a test of fortitude, that you really want to put the effort in to commune with the Griffin."

"Huh. Well, then we'd best move briskly. Fortitude is nice and all, but the sooner we get back, the sooner we can get rid of the Mushroom People and I won't have to do anything that makes me really unhappy." She wrinkled her nose and trotted forward, Hadrian at the very edge of her periphery vision. She wasn't concerned with it getting dark, even if they lost the trail they wouldn't lose the mountain, but she was hoping there was enough moonlight to see the Griffin. She assumed she'd hear it arrive, but there were some things you just didn't want to meet blind.

"Briskness is something we do not have in short supply." Galen observes wryly.

And with that, Brieanne's trot sets the pace for the travelers. As Hadrian promised, the path soon begins, and in a short period of time the ascent begins in earnest.

It is a full day's trek and more. There are spots clearly arranged and set for people to take breaks and rest. Thanks to the constitution of all three of the travelers, stopping only every second rest-area, giving opportunity to get water and take a bit of food. The shrines that Hadrian mentions prove to be relatively small affairs, small structures that seem to be carved out of the living rock of the mountain, and none of them are, in size, larger than a large room in Julian's house. Iconography of the Griffin, though, is replete in the shrines, from small wooden and ivory carved Griffins clearly left as offerings, to full scale tapestries of the creature in flight over the mountains.

Brieanne peeked into each shrine they passed, briefly studying the carvings and art, with an occasional question for Hadrian, and then moving on.  She was content to curl up in her coat when they stopped to rest, not interested in food even if she took the water and ready to continue as soon as the others were.    

Night has indeed fallen, and a bright full moon is in the sky as the group approaches the third and final shrine near the summit. One interesting thing that Brieanne has noted about this moon, as opposed to Amber's, is that it is significantly brighter and somewhat larger, enough that Brieanne can perceive some colors at close range by its light.

  "This is nice. " Brieanne broke her silence, as she admired the clarity of the night. She flashed a smile in Galen's direction as well, assuming this trek worked more nicely for him then most of what they had done lately.   "This moon rivals the one in Ghenesh." Galen says.

"I am sure Castor and Pollux might be able to tell us something, being so interested in star charts for sailing." Hadrian says, looking up at the Moon.

And thus, Brieanne, and everyone else is looking at the Moon when she sees a silhouette high in the sky against its light.

A griffin silhouette.

She froze instantly, shrinking in place like a rabbit hoping the hawk had not yet seen it. "Well... I guess he knows we're here..."

With a deep breath and a squirm of her shoulders to settle more deeply into her coat, she started climbing again, determined to make a good show of it.

"He does" Hadrian says, the capitalization of the pronoun evident in his voice.

"So how do we get him to talk to us?" Galen asks.

"He will come to speak to usss" Dora says confidently.

As it so happens, nothing appears to happen as the group continues to climb the mountain. It is, however, as Brieanne heads around the latest shoulder of the mountain that she sees ahead, on a wide part of the trail, landed, and watching intently is what she saw only twenty minutes before but up in the sky.

In deep shadows of the night, in shades of brown and gold, the Griffin of DuMarque.

Brieanne can hear the lack of breathing on the part of Galen and Hadrian.

She didn't stop, her feet moving automatically to carry her right up to where the Griffin waited. Her destination was a point a comfortable speaking distance from him, one that allowed her to look up and make eye contact without having to strain her neck. She settled into her chosen spot, bare toes curling and then flexing as she balanced, poised and ready to move though there was no other display of anxiety.

The Griffin's eyes watch Brieanne carefully.

She stared at him a moment, openly curious and then she took a slightly more formal posture. "I'd assume you know why we're here, but if you'd prefer it spelled out, i can do that, you just need to tell me how you'd like us to start."

Admiring him, she couldn't help but wonder how different it was to ride a griffin...

"You have traveled far, daughter of the First Forest." The Griffin says. The voice has the undertones of a large cat, with some high pitched tones like that of a songbird. It all works, however, melodiously.

"I am pleased that you have climbed the mountain for the sake of only a Feather."

As if reading Brieanne's thoughts, the Griffin continues. "I would speak to you alone ere I give you the feather. Mount my back, and we shall speak in the night air."

The smile lit her face as bright as the moon.

"Only a feather to you! To me the recipe to getting rid of beings who make me feel creeped and anxious and I don't want to see my forest the way they envision it!" She moved forward, pausing only a moment to decide where her legs went in relation to his wings.... where her weight would be to their lift, and then she sprang forward with nimble, well-practiced ease.

"Brieanne, is this wise?" Galen says, but Brieanne's ease in mounting dragons has served her well. She is on the creature's back and the Griffin's wings have already started to beat.

"Unicorn and the Griffin." Hadrian says, in wonder, fear and surprise.

Smoketreadder gave a dissatisfied, groaning growl and sat down as his charge went willy-nilly into danger he couldn't do anything about.

But concern and wonder are both lost in the thrill of the moment, all of Brieanne's attention focused on the task at hand.

However, the voices of Hadrian, Dora and Galen are soon lost,as Brieanne feels the cold air, and the thrill of rising into the sky. The feathers of the Griffin are far warmer than the scales of the Lord of Midnight, which does help keep Brieanne from freezing.

The Griffin's flight path is a slowly expanding and rising circle, allowing Brieanne to see, by the light of that bright moon, the mountain range that makes up the backbone of the shadow. To the east, the mountains fall away to what looks like a desert or plain, and to the far west, she can just see the shimmering of what must be the sea.

Brieanne waited until they had a steady path and then made a series of careful adjustments to move her center in relation to his so that she was better balanced. The movements were small, almost isometric, keenly aware that every shift would affect their flight, which wasn't what she was going for ... yet.

"I shall grant you the feather."The Griffin says. "But there is something I wish your help with, daughter of Amber. I shall give you the feather first, for this is a matter that will take no little time, and no continuous effort on your part."

Hmm... Brieanne considered that, giving a small nod. It was a little early to say thank you. Instead, she leaned into the wind, hands and arms angled so that there was no single point of contact as her feet curved around him so she had a little more traction for the steeper turns.

And Brieanne needs that traction. The winds are fierce and Brieanne has to fight for purchase on some of the ganks and turns.

The Griffin says nothing for a minute, seemingly enjoying the flight and in no hurry to speak. Finally, though, he does speak. I wish you to aid me in the proper succession of the King of this land."

"Succession...? Me?" Of all the things he might have asked for, there was no anticipating that. "Um.... how am I going to do that?" She caught herself before she sat up, but she was surprised and dearly wondered how he envisioned her helping with a political matter of that magnitude.

"The DuMarquean you brought with you to meet me is the grandson of the current King." the Griffin says. "He is not high in the line of Succession, daughter of Amber, and since he shares the blood of this land with the power of Amber, I wish to see him do so."

That came as no surprise... given that her father had been chosen for similar reasons by others in power.

"Improving his rank and status would be simple." The Griffin says. "To have him married off, preferably to someone of royal rank herself. The daughter of the Queen of Maeonis, perhaps, the blond haired girl. Dulcinea. And she is of the Blood of Amber, too. So properly done, Henry would see the wisdom in choosing Hadrian for his Heir."

"I wish you." The Griffin says "to facilitate that marriage."

"I can do that!" Brieanne brightened. "He likes Dulcinea. I wonder if she likes flowers...?" Her mind immediately went to matters of wooing, serious contemplation if it was going to be done right.

"If they run away, what authority does the king here recognize for marriages?" Given who they were, one had to consider that the bride's family might be problematic.

"The King would recognize a valid authority equal to his own." The Griffin says. "Another Monarch that the King is aware of, for instance." The creature goes into a dive, just for the thrill of the descent, blowing cold air into Brieanne's face. Not far from the spot where Hadrian Galen and the hounds stand, he pulls up again, back into the clear night sky.

Brieanne squeaked at the dive, leaning into the wind that blew in her face, moving with the griffin instead of shying away from the height. She caught her breath once he'd leveled up and nodded. "Okay. There are bunches of monarchs to choose from in the Golden Circle. So if Uncle Random is cranky, I'll find someone willing to make it happen for them and witnesses ready to stand up and say that it did." She'd never been to a wedding, but she had a fair grasp of the complications and how it all worked.

The Griffin waits until his climb levels off before he speaks again.

"Then we are in accord and have an agreement." There is an undeniably pleased tone to the creature's voice and something like the laughing cry of a raptor.

"Any further matters before I return you to your human, moonrider and canine companions?" The Griffin asks, his flight path making a slow turn that will land him some yards on the mountain away from Hadrian, Dora, Galen and the hounds.

"Not that I can think of right now," Brieanne replied. "I'm pretty busy thinking about what I need to do. I feel like the circus man who juggles and people keep tossing him more balls, and then knives and sticks and then an apple and he keeps it all in the air but snatches a bite of the apple to get the laugh from the crowd.... maybe I can count this as my bite." She laughed, still very aware of everything in the air.

"Take the feather two inches left of your right hand, Juggler and Matchmaker. It will come free" The Griffin says with a tone of amusement, as he finally completes the landing. Even though there is a good deal of space between them and Hadrian and Galen, the two take a step backward when the Griffin does land. Only the hounds remain in place, now acting as point. Dora's eyes glint in the moonlight as she peers at Brieanne and the Griffin.

The Griffin stops speaking, and gives off the cry of a bird of prey, but does not immediately force Brieanne to dismount.

Brieanne slid her fingers between the Griffin's feathers in the area he had indicated and in a manner her father's raptors always seemed to appreciate. She didn't pull until she was certain she had the correct feather. Once it was in hand, she slid down and stepped back, smiling. With a little bounce that might have been a curtsey, she took a few more steps backward and then turned with another bounce and trotted to where her hounds waited. Pausing there to watch the Griffin, one hand raised to wave. Briarsting and Smoketredder are extremely happy that Brieanne is back safe and sound and not in needing of them to deal with the Griffin. The former yips and yaps for attention.

Hadrian and Galen watch the Griffin until it takes off and starts to fly away before approaching and speaking to Brie.

"You continue to surprise, cousin." Hadrian says, once the Griffin flies into the night sky and fades from sight. "Noys will *not* believe this."

"The truth of this matter is more fanciful than some tales." Galen admits. "It is good that you managed to obtain the feather regardless of the night ride."

"I did!" Brieanne chirped brightly, looking up from her hounds, who were receiving the requested affection. She held the feather tightly lest the wind try and steal it away, and gave Briarsting another scratch under the chin. "But the ride was lovely, and I got to keep my music box, too!" She was pleased by that, rocking merrily on her feet, though she decided they would Trump, not walk, back down the mountain.

"How did you manage that?" Galen says. "I thought the gift was a prerequisite for the Griffin to give up the feather. Did you just charm him into the feather?""

"Surely he didn't just want someone to ride him." Hadrian adds.

"Or did he?" Dora says, sibilantly. "Was he perhaps lonely?"

"Or maybe I gave him something else." Brieanne winked and pointed to the pocket where Hadrian kept his Trump. Hadrian furrows his eyebrows

"You promised to make a trump of him?" he asks.

Brieanne laughed quietly and shook her head.

"She made a promise of some sort." Galen interrupts. "Perhaps it would not be wise to pry too deeply. Clearly their conversation was meant to be private, or else we would have been included in it."

"True." She nodded and turned back to Hadrian. "I just think Trump are the best way off the moutain." She hugged the coat to herself, still smiling. "Someplace warm for Brieanne and Galen" Dora suggests sibilantly.

"Someplace that has the same day and night cycle as DuMarque" Hadrian says speculatively, looking at Brieanne and Galen. He flips through his trumps and comes up with a card.

"Shall I?" he offers, as a cold wind picks up, adding to the already considerable night chill in the air.

"Yes!" Brieanne went up on her toes for a moment, almost dancing in place... as if she were cold, or excited. She watched Hadrian attentively, waiting. Hadrian quickly gets the trump activated, and forms a gate in short order. He lets everyone pass, Brieanne, the Hounds, Galen and Dora before he steps through and closes the connection.

It's certainly warmer here, a lot warmer. The moon hanging on the horizon, just over the surface of the water, is a size more normal for Brieanne. Given the warmth (more like early summer in Amber, the swaying of the palm trees behind her and the fact that she is now standing on sand clues Brieanne in that Hadrian has brought then from the cold mountain to a moonlight semi-tropical beach.

"We're in Maeonis" Hadrian explains. "The Royal Family leases the island from Queen Latrice. The Guesthaus is about a quarter of a mile back up the path."

"Thank you, Hadrian" Galen says. "It certainly is more comfortable here."

"Oh yes!" Brieanne agreed, looking curiously before slowly shedding her coat and digging her toes in the sand. "This is nice."

"I guess... from here.. we work our way back to the alchemist? Though we might need to wait a bit to time it right so we stay at twilight or dawn?" She pursed her lips, thinking about it. "That would be one reason to delay" Hadrian replies. As Hadrian makes a slow circuit of the area, Brieanne can and does notice that it is a little cooler in his proximity. As he moves away toward a palm tree to lean against, the coolness evaporates to even more substantial warmth.

"The other reason, of course, is the fact that we *have* just climbed Khan Tengri and a rest might be in order before we start making our way back to the Alchemist with the feather."

"Oh... yes, there is that." Brieanne looked thoughtful for just a moment. "I usually only stop when I must..." it was a bit of a guilty admission and she looked around for a place to settle.

"Actually" Hadrian says, as Brieanne finds a comfortable palm tree to rest under. "I was thinking that a comfortable bed would do us all much better in getting some rest than sleeping on the beach."

"This GuestHaus you talked about?" Galen says.

"Yes" Hadrian says brightly. "I *do* have the right to use it,. and even if one of my uncles, aunts or cousins is already there, its large enough that we'd have at the very least a wing to ourselves, if not the run of the entire building. We'd find space for the hounds, too."

"What do you think?" Dora says sibilantly, looking at Brieanne.

Brieanne considered a moment and then nodded, "Alright." Her definition of what made something 'comfortable' was a little different than theirs, but meeting another member of Hadrian's maternal family might be useful....

"It's not far." Hadrian promises, delight in his voice. He starts setting off at a fair pace, giving Brieanne, Galen and the hounds a bit of exercise in the warm air as he leads them down along the path.

Tropical palms and other trees line the path, fragrant with night blossoms of orchids. At this point, Smoketredder and Briarsting move in to flank Brieanne, and their sniffing in the air suggests that they are not alone on the island.

Brieanne took the time to pause and enjoy the flowers along the way, alert, but trusting the hounds to warn her if there was cause.

Eventually, the trees thin out to reveal an elegant, tall building done in milky marble. A conical point stands on one tower, and the front portico is done in elegant columns. Two fires in braziers provide ground level illumination, giving the building a yellowish cast with their flickering light.

Standing between those braziers, a dark haired woman crosses her arms and regards Hadrian with the air of an older sister awaiting a younger brother. Hadrian, however, is ebullient.

"Cousin!" Hadrian calls, continuing his pace toward her.

(Casting call: Emily Deschanel)

"I thought you had permanently gone off to Amber with that Witch you visited." She looks at Brieanne skeptically "Is *this* Bhangbadea?" she asks.

"No, no." Hadrian says, hastily. "This is Brieanne, daughter of the Prince Julian of Amber." He next gestures to Galen " And this is Galen Miriamson."

Hadrian pauses a beat and turns back to Brieanne and Galen. "Brieanne, Galen this is my cousin Johanna."

Johanna looks over Galen and Brieanne, expectantly.

For Hadrian's sake, Brieanne replied with a pleasant, "Hello" but her hackles were set to rise and she favored Dora with a look that was as much question as it was warning, trusting the little dragonkin to pick up on the subtlety

"Greetings" Galen says. His tone is guarded.

For her part, if a dragonet could make a face of displeasure, Dora manages, behind Johanna's back, to make one for Brieanne.

"We were hoping to spend the night before continuing our travels through the Golden Circle." Hadrian explains. "The Princess is showing me the wonders of shadowshifting."

"Ah, that explains your unexpected arrival." Johanna says. "Steinar and I have the west wing, which leaves the east and the north sides unoccupied. Just pick one, cousin. Nanan is here, for your breakfast in the morning."

"Lingonberry pancakes." Hadrian says, delighted.

"Well, I won't keep you, but will expect to talk to you in the morning." Johanna says. "Until then." she gives a bob of the head to Hadrian, to Brieanne and then to Galen before turning her back and walking into the house.

"I am guessing the East wing would be best, for the sunrise light." Hadrian suggests.

.... "East is fine." Brieanne replied after a pause, watching Johanna make her exit. She glanced at Dora, an impish smile slowly tugging at the corners of her mouth. The smile, fully grown, was fey and feral as she bounced into the house.

"Morning will be lovely." Her tone was bubbly as she wrapped her arms around one of Hadrian's, carrying him along with her. "I don't think I've ever had Lingonberry pancakes." She giggled, her thoughts on something other than food. Hadrian seems content to allow Brieanne to carry him along.

"Lingonberries are a berry from DuMarque. I had blackberries in a trip to Antioch and they are somewhat similar but not quite the same." Hadrian explains.

Picking up on her mood, Briarsting pranced alongside them, stepping up on his hind legs and then dashing forward at top speed for a few feet before spinning and landing in a play-bow. Despite the heavy coat, tension highlighted the muscles that sheathed him, and the look he gave them said he was ready to play... but probably much more roughly than any human wanted. Hadrian gasps slightly. Galen chuckles slightly.

Brieanne sang something to him in reply, sounding entertained, and he fell back into step with them, looking quite pleased with himself.

The floor plan of the GuestHaus is open and inviting, with wood the dominant interior building material. A large irregular room with lots of couches and chairs leads to corridors and a staircase. The room smells of fragrant cedar and pine.

Hadrian manages to steer the eager Brieanne through this room, and forward, into a corridor with a pair of doors on both sides, running ahead to another open-plan room. Hadrian picks up speaking again, halfway down the corridor. "This is the east side. Four bedrooms. Each pair of rooms shares a full bath. There is a common room at the end of this corridor which doubles as a sun room. It has a deck with the east view. The other wings are similarly laid out."

"12 bedrooms. What's upstairs?" Galen says.

"The rooms that the King would use are up on the second floor and don't get used unless he and the Queen are visiting." he adds. "So, we can have a bedroom for each of us. I suppose." Hadrian says. "Galen and I can share a bath, and you can have one for yourself."

He looks at the hounds. "Well, perhaps not by yourself." he amends. Dora hisses in laughter.

"No, not entirely by myself." Brieanne agreed, smiling at the hounds. "And maybe I will risk dousing them.. they rarely get baths; it might be fun. Of course, sleeping where I will face the rising sun might also be nice..." She mused on that, still feeling bouncing as they moved down the hall.

Hadrian opens doors and shows off the quartet of bedrooms, the bathrooms between each pair (with tubs large enough that one of the hounds could fit inside easily with Brieanne), and the sun room at the end. Although there is no bed in here ,there are couches, chairs, and a bank of windows with an unobstructed view of the eastern sky. Dawn's morning light will flood this room with the rising sun and its light.

"If there is anything we need besides this, there are bell pulls for the servants." Hadrian adds. "Maeonis actually has running water of a sort, so the tubs don't need to be filled by hand."

"It certainly is almost too comfortable here." Galen says. "However, after our labors and those to come, they may be welcome." He looks at the windows in the sun room. "I have not slept on a proper schedule, but do need rest if I am going to face morning light. Until tomorrow, and these lingonberries of which you speak." Galen nods to Brieanne, and heads off to claim one of the north-facing bedrooms.

"Good night Galen." Brieanne replied. She looked around and smiled. "Good night Hadrian. If you hear the hounds pacing, you can ignore them or direct them back to me. I wouldn't think they'd wander far, but in a new place.... you just never know." She gave a little shrug and meandered into the room, still smiling. "Sleep well, Brieanne." Hadrian says. He looks at the room. "I still think you might prefer a bed to a couch, but I suppose after our efforts, anything will be soft and welcome."

Dora flutters over from Brieanne's shoulder back to Hadrian.

"Good night.:" she says sibilantly She then says something softly in Hadrian's ear.

"Wander too far..." Hadrian replies, mostly to himself and Dora as Brieanne turns away. She can almost hear the gears turning in Hadrian's head at Brieanne;s choice of phrase.

And so Brieanne can find herself a place to sleep to await the sun rise.

Brieanne spent a moment examining the room. Living plants (assuming there are any) were moved to the center of the room, as were the pillows.

There are a couple of large ferns in pots that can be moved. Pillows can be scavenged and nested int the center.

And then the child rumored to be the worst trickster in the castle peeked out the door way and into the hall with a toothy smile that nearly glowed.

"Oh... I think she could be so much fun. Don't you?" She looked down at the hounds, Smoketreadder merely attentive while Briarsting seemed to smile back at her. "Shall we see? We shall have to be ever so clever... since there's no one else here..." She paused, seeming to think it over, even through the decision had been made before she walked into the building.

Moving back to a little pool of moonlight, Brieanne sang softly, dancing around the circle. It wasn't the greenwood, but she was fairly certain there could be faerie trouble if one just opened the door a wee little bit.

It turns out that Brieanne does not have to reach as far away as she thinks she does. It turns out that there are faeries on this tropical island, faeries that only needed the right sort of call in order to materialize.  From behind one of the ferns they appear.  12 inches tall at the shoulder, and winged, they step out into the moonlight and regard Brieanne.  They regard the hounds with a little more apprehension.

"We are the daughters of Chloris" the three black haired fae say in singsong unison. "We recognize you as a distant cousin, a child of a great tree. What do you wish and what do you offer?"

"Someone to dance with, to play, call down the moon and perhaps enjoy a bit of fun at a mortals expense?" She had the ability to call up the magic they'd all drink from.. which should be payment enough, but she waited to see what their answer was. She ignored the hounds for now, trusting them to sit back and wait.. Briarsting had been poked in the nose enough by the sprites in her meadow that he should know to behave himself.

Indeed, the two hounds seem to recognize the daughters of Chloris in spirit, if not in body, to sprites that Brieanne has 'introduced' them to, before. They keep near Brieanne, but seem to have no desire to molest these fae.

"We would fair dance and play with a distant cousin." they reply. Actually, to be precise, the three of them finish the entire sentence in pieces, each of them alternating words. Given the similarity of their voices, it makes their speech something like a chorus.

"If you mean to molest the mortals who stay on this island, it would require more of a price than just the opportunity to do so." the daughters of Chloris continue. "The blond haired queen of this land, and her daughter, have asked nicely that visitors from the land of glaciers not be molested."

"It is not a binding compact, however." they finish.

"I mean no harm, a little prank to needle thin skin. A dance and the moon's gift for an annoyance most would shake off without remark but I suspect will cause silly drama with one..." Brieanne watched to gauge their reactions. The three daughters of Chloris' eyes go bright. The left and right cock their heads, their interest and openness obvious.

"I will likely not pass this way again, nor my moonchild companion, if he sees fit to join us." "It would be a shame not to frolic and play with a distant cousin who may never come this way again." The center of the three daughters says.

"Indeed" the left one adds. "It is rare for Fae to come here at all, save those of the waters. And they mislike staying overlong on land."

"Then we are agreed" the right one adds. "We agree to help you, daughter of the great tree, with your prank."

Brieanne's only reply was a smile as she reached through the Shadows, her hand and arm briefly haloed in rainbows as she retrieved her pipes. They weren't as fancy or sweet as Gazalarnith's gift, but they were veterans of many revels and the perfect tools for a moonlit dance.

There is an audible gasp from one of the trio at the sudden appearance of her pipes through the trump connection.

"Play first, pranks as you see fit against the lady who treats my beloved cousin so disrespectfully." She needed to be certain that Hadrian didn't end up suffering as the target of something. "I would very much like a brush that puts the knots in, instead of taking them out, but I am quite open minded on the subject."

She winked as she rose to her feet and put the pipes to her lips. There was one last pause as she let the breath creep in and then sighed it out, the pipes whispering softly, clear enough for faerie ears but just teasing the hounds who twitched their ears one way and another as they strained to listen. There was a fair chance the mortals would have odd restless dreams, lulled and held there by the music but that didn't concern her.

They danced here first and then, with the glamour wrapped around then, twirled and wove their way down the halls to the courtyard where they played in the moonlight light Nereids in water, and then once again quietly through the halls, looping back to the courtyard and using the whole of the grounds for their ballroom.

 Midway through the procession, Brieanne does notice a new entrant onto the scene if not quite the procession itself.  Galen.

"Who is this?" the three daughters of Chloris say, swirling around Galen like shadows around a light.  "This is not your beloved cousin, he does not smell of your blood, and yet he smells of a distant relation."

"I am Galen Miriamson of the Moonriders." he says formally.  He looks at Brieanne questioningly.  "In this place, my usual nocturnal habits have returned, and your music drew my attention.  Are you laying some sort of enchantment?"

A smile tugged at her lips and the music laughed in sing-song notes as she swirled around Galen with the Daughters. She rolled lightly along his shoulders, incorporating him just as she would any other bit of scenery that caught her fancy, but when she came around to his other side, she met his gaze. She paused there, mid-dance, poise to continue, a defenseless position, playful, but also predatory.   "This is a child of a distant moon." She replied to the Daughters, a coy smile just behind the mouthpiece of her pipes. "And we're just dancing... a bit of fun in the night. You're welcome to join us..." She continued to gaze up at him as she resumed the music, but then she danced away, curious to see if he would, but refusing to look back.

Even as Brieanne dances off, one of the three daughters can be heard to whisper into Galen's ear, beckoning, suggesting, coaxing him to take advantage of Brieanne's dance, Brieanne's offer. Their offer.

Although she does not look back, Brieanne is soon aware of the added presence of the Moonrider.  His dancing is nowhere near as practiced and smooth as their own, he is dancing with the tune.  He serves as an alder bole, a maypole that the three daughters of Chloris use as a continual touchstone in their movements, their orbits. He seems to enjoy this, offering the brush of a hand now and again as they come to and from him.

The interaction made her happy and her music briefly reflected the boon to her mood.

They would pass by where Hadrian's relative was... time to make the night pay off.

In short order, the three daughters crowd around Brieanne as the doorway to Johanna's bedroom.

"Here, here, here we five are" they chant.  The door is not locked, or at least the lock is no barrier to their entry,  They open the door, twisting and twirling as the door to the dark room lies within.

There was a brief cautionary note before they entered... Brieanne tensing in the doorway, gaze sharp and wary. She'd entered unbidden into enough places that she always did so with caution... Unlikely as it might be, a tripped ward would simply ruin the night.

It does not appear there are any real wards to the room. There is something very low level, very minor, but it does not seem to register Brieanne, Galen or the Chloris daughters as something to bother with.

Very curious. Brieanne pays it some attention, wondering....

It is a relatively simple spell, Brieanne discovers, It seems to be an anti-insect repellent, nothing more. A way to ward off the lush tropical insects from disturbing her sleep. Its not something native to the house, since she would have noticed it before with the other rooms she has passed.

"Let us make her stay miserable.  Let us make her regret harassing one who is doted on by the Fey." they chant, swimming into the room. "What shall we do?  What shall we do?" they chant, regarding Brieanne and Galen in the darkness.

"For bleary eyes that don't wish to clear... For pretty clothes prone to tear... For snaggled hair worse at every touch... For powdered noses that itch too much... For magic that fades in afternoon's light... For the day that just won't start right."

Brieanne giggled softly, touching upon the brush, the lady's powders and brushes such as Asteria had, with a gesture to the lady herself and the wardrobe just beyond, and then she played even more softly, sing-song like a lullaby, but with wild, haunting undernotes as the little hexes were woven into the common things. A bit of dust for the eyes, tiny pulled threads for the clothes, knots woven in hair even as the brush was made impotent. She left time and space for whatever the Daughters felt inspiration for, swaying where she was so she kept some attention on the resident of the room to make sure no one woke and saw them.

The daughters add a couple of hexes to their own, to the unlit lamps, to the window, and finally, to the bedsheets at the foot of the bed itself. Its not clear to Brieanne just what these hexes will do, though.

Galen stands at the threshold and watches.

When their little prank was complete, she slid out of the room, lullaby still crooning on the pipes, toes holding the door for the others, and then they danced away, the room the same to all outward appearances.

The dancing continues for a half hour, maybe an hour more, before, swirling around Brieanne and Galen both, the three fey arrange themselves a few feet away and curtsey.

"We thank you, distant woodland kin, and we bid you a good night. May your revels be merry, and your burdens be light."

"For you as well." Brieanne offers a slight bow and a broad smile as they leave.

And like shadows, they slowly and silently fade into the darkness and are gone.

 "You took ill the DuMarquean Princess' treatment of your cousin Hadrian, I would wager." Galen says to Brieanne.

"I did." Brieanne's tone was matter-of-fact. "She won't learn anything, but it makes me feel better."

"I approve of the maneuver all the same." Galen says. "I take it we are never to tell Hadrian or Dora of this?"

"Hmm... probably best not to... not until it is very old news and it serves some purpose to tell him."

"Very well." Galen says. "Sleep well, Brieanne."

She bounced and turned, smiling as she headed back to the space she'd made for herself.

The remainder of Brieanne's night, when she does go to sleep at last, is mostly peaceful...although, in her dreams, and it is her dreams only, Brieanne gets the smell of smoke in her nostrils. The smell of fire. No visuals, no sounds...just the smell of runaway fire.

This smell goes away with the opening of her eyes, and the light of the new day.

The smell made Brieanne frown, even in her sleep, an expression that persisted as she opened her eyes and looked around. Neither hound seemed aggitated, but the smell triggered recent, very unpleasant memories and she tossed and turned, getting comfortable for a moment before finally rising. She listened first, still making certain that there was nothing here to react to, and then she stretched and ventured out into the house, looking for her companions.

There is absolutely nothing in the house. Nothing outside, either. Why Brieanne should smell a forest burning makes absolutely no sense, here. Scouting around, she finds that Galen is still sleeping, but Hadrian on the other hand, not the night owl amongst them, has long since been up and is on a porch looking out to the east.

"Good morning" Hadrian smiles. He gives a glance to the padding hounds besides Brieanne and then back at Brie.

"You've just missed the dawn." Dora adds, sibilantly.

"Did my cousin awaken you?" Hadrian asks. "Johanna seems loud and agitated this morning for some reason she would not share with me. Maybe she is fighting with Steinar." He shrugs. "Breakfast is whenever we want it. And I suppose we can get going afterwards."

"No..." Brieanne shook her head. "She did not wake me. The smell of fire did... but it must have been a dream, though I don't recall ever having had one quite like that. No sounds... just the smell.. and it's not a smell I like."  She wrinkled her nose. "Smell of fire" Hadrian shakes his head.  "They do get forest fires in the summer here, but its the end of the rainy season in Maeonis."

"It seems quite unrelated to anything.." Brieanne stretched and scrubbed a hand through her hair, lavished a brief moment of attention on Briarsting, who had placed his head to where her hand would land when she lowered it, and sighed.

"Breakfast and the on our way is probably for the best, though I suppose we shall brave a last visit with your cousin to say goodbye if you are interested." She glanced at him, curious as to what the other faerie had done, but not curious enough to make more of an effort to find out. That it had happened was enough. "I probably should take my leave of her, if she doesn't come in while we break our fast." Hadrian replies. "It would be rude to Johanna and Steinar both to depart without a word."

"We sshould not be as rude as they are." Dora says.  A look of surprise crosses Hadrian's voice, but Dora looks at Brieanne and does the draconic equivalent of a smile.

"No," Brieanne agreed, "we shouldn't." She returned Dora's look, a bewitching little smile playing with her expression before she turned more serious. "We shall be gracious in our departure.... and it will be good to have our business done with the alchemist."

"Yes, it shall. I suspect our slumbering friend will appreciate being in lands less blessed by the sun." Hadrian says. "We probably should wake him soon, so that he can enjoy breakfast as well."   She nodded, mostly to inner dialog, trying to redirect herself instead of fretting. The effort caused her to fidget, needing to move.

 In an hour's time, Brieanne, Hadrian, Dora (and a slightly somnambulent Galen Miriamson) are enjoying breakfast prepared by the cook/servant.  Lingonberries turn out to be a relatively tart berry, and they are served as a jam on top of small, thin pancakes.  Hadrian, Dora, and Galen wind up eating prodigious numbers of these pancakes.  The lingonberries themselves remind Brieanne of a red, tart blackberry in their texture and consistency.

Johanna, and a dark haired man that Hadrian introduces as her husband Steinar make a brief appearance, enough to get some food, give their regrets that Johanna is feeling under the weather, and depart the room just as quickly.

What Brieanne could not fail to notice is that there is a long,streak of dull grey now running through Johanna's hair.

  Brieanne is quiet, watchful but polite as she acceptable their regrets.

She watches them leave and when they are gone she returns to her meal hiding her satisfaction.

"That was extremely odd." Hadrian comments, a half hour later, as provisions (including some fresh lingonberries for Hadrian and Dora to snack on and a jar of jam for Hadrian to bring back to Amber) are packed and the trip back to the Alchemist is readied.

"Some of her hair suddenly turned grey overnight." Hadrian says. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Strange things occur." Galen says.  He is not quite smiling but clearly slightly amused. "I am sure Brieanne has seen stranger things in Amber."

"Oh.. now and then, yes."  Brieanne's eyes gleamed brightly, the smile still carefully suppressed.  

Hadrian pulls out his sketchbook and produces a drawing of the Alchemist's hut.  "I thought traveling through shadow to get there was the long way.  The sketch will hold the hounds, horses and everyone." he adds brightly.

"Oh, very useful. Thank you!" Sh was happy to be able to take a short cut and hurried to gather everything and everyone so they could be on their way. "I drew it this morning while waiting for you and Galen to awaken." Hadrian says.

"He likess to practise" Dora explains. "He drew Dulcinea, too."

"Dora!" Hadrian says, flushed.

  "Really....?" Brieanne smiled broadly, happy to tease.  

"Anyway" Hadrian adds, hurriedly.  "Let's get going."

In short order, with the help of the trump sketch, Brieanne and company are back on the lonely cliff where Ascanius's hut stands.  He is, as it so happens, sitting on the ground outside of the hut, meditating or relaxing when the group steps through Hadrian's trump sketch.  He turns around and he stands.

"Greetings again, Brieanne." he says. He looks at Hadrian, Galen, the hounds and Dora.  He squints and looks back at Brieanne  "Has the lady Noys fallen in your quest for the Griffin's feather?"

Brieanne cocked her head quizzically. "No cousin falls on my watch." It wasn't a boast so much as a simple statement. It hadn't happened yet, and she wasn't inclined to let it.

"Noys is dealing with family. I took the flight." She pulled out the feather she had bargained for and held it to the light, hand and arm relaxed, but fingers pressing closely lest the wind try and steal it away from her.

Ascanius leans forward to peer at the feather.  "That certainly appears to be the genuine article.  I can feel its esoteric nature from here."  He walks into the hut, and a moment later, comes back with two scroll cases, one open and one closed.  He offers the latter to Brieanne.

"This is the recipe, as we agreed" The alchemist says.  He waits for Brieanne to take it, and then holds forward the open case.  "And now the feather."

  Brieanne was often inclined to be trusting, but the alchemists behavior didn't sit with her much more comfortably than Johanna's had. She accepted the case without looking at it, her gaze on Ascanius instead, and passed it directly to Hadrian.

Hadrian peeks inside the case, enough apparently to satisfy himself something is inside, and closes it again.  

"It is genuine. Selected for my taking by the Griffin himself." She spoke quietly, bright blue eyes gazing steadily at the man.

"That is...unexpected" Ascanius says, regarding Brieanne with a bit of surprise.

Galen gives a grin.  "She speaks truth. No theft was necessary."

Brieanne listened quietly. The unexpected be a frequent part of her life.   [Brieanne] "If the recipe does not work, you will need to amend it until it does, or it will need to be returned. Something real, for something real, all intentions honored faithfully."

"The failure of the recipe will not be due to the formula." Ascanius says.  "However, if error or blame is not attributable to anything else, I will agree to amend it." he says.  "So I have said, so I will do."

She waited for his agreement before placing the feather in the proffered case. He closes the case and gives a nod of his head. "May your fight against the Veniss be successful. A world under their tender mercies is not one I would wish to inhabit."

"No... we would all fare poorly." Brieanne agreed. Withdrawing a step and preparing to leave. "Hopefully the fight will be swift, decisive, and in our favor..." She gave a regal nod of the head and looked to see if Hadrian or Galen had any parting comments before they returned to Amber.

"Thank you, Alchemist" Hadrian bows his head. "Your help will not be forgotten."

"Goodbye" Dora adds, sibilantly.

Galen says nothing further, just smiling.

The alchemist turns to return to his dwelling, case in hand, and a very pleased look on his face.

 "Time to return home?" Hadrian says.  He stops, as if stung by the last word he spoke.  He blinks his eyes.

"Back to the Castle, I mean." Hadrian amends.

Brieanne gives him a puzzled look. "Father sent us out on this quest. I would return to Arden to let Father know that it is completed. He may have people in mind to attempt this, and if he does not, or they do not seem up to the task, we can call on Lorius or one of the others."

She gives him another puzzled look, still not sure why 'home' would be such a notable word. "Sorry, you are correct .We should accede to Uncle Julian's wishes in the matter." Hadrian agrees.  He shakes his head.   "I'm still getting used to be part of two very different and separated families." He explains.

"Ah" Galen says, thoughtfully.  He then looks at Brieanne.  "I can't imagine you don't have a half dozen trumps of Julian's house done by now."

"In different styless?" Dora adds.

Brieanne smiled in response to Dora's comment, but her expression was softer when she leaned in toward Hadrian.

"Home is where the heart is.." She shrugged. "You choose, even if it's not where you are or what other people expect, and you don't have to hurry to choose." "Maybe I am too impatient." Hadrian said.

"Oh, you want me to trump us back."  Hadrian says in surprise.

"Of course" Galen says.  "Did you doubt?"

She waited, letting him Trump them home... to her home, at least, and she was certainly happy to share it. Hadrian pulls out a freshly made trump. Its a picture of the Steading, in the blue hour, with the moon peeking over the trees.  He starts concentrating on it, and then he looks up.

"Brieanne."  Hadrian says.  A look of shock is across his face.  Dora, for her reptile nature, looks shocked, too.

"Something is wrong, badly wrong."

He puts his hand on Brieanne's shoulder and brings her into the trump call, without her asking.

Through the view of Hadrian's trump...things are all wrong in the clearing where Julian's Steading is.  The Steading itself is charred, burned, still standing somehow but the very smell of recent fire comes through the trump.

There are soldiers everywhere, Rangers and other soldiers besides in the clearing.  It looks like the aftermath of a battle, given that there bodies, and corpses on the ground.  With Hadrian's expert use of the location trump to look around, Brieanne can see her brother, and Noys are on the scene, concentrating on a trump.  There are others, too, besides the soldiers, Brieanne doesn't recognize them. There are even Weir, like Eric used to have under his control, three of them in fact.

And one other thing. A big thing, that might explain everything.

A Door. 

The cry that came out of Brieanne was barely human, audibly illustrating the turning point between grief and rage. She was through the Trump in an instant, a reflex motion that required no help.


Page last modified on August 15, 2011, at 10:33 PM