Ten days later, the Muellin arrived in Ilandia.

The eight questers, First Crewman Talandil and the shayen priest of Samnos, Commander Thillian, stood along the railing of the fabulous flying ship, looking at the ground below, where it wasn't hidden from view by the broad wing sails. They had just passed over a few of the heavily defended frontier towns, where great crowds of people had flocked out into the streets to stare in disbelief at the beautiful and magnificent bird of paradise, and the travellers had been relieved to see no sign of battle in or around any of them. It was the fourth week of spring, and they had expected to find the fourth Shadowwar well under way, but evidently the enemy had suffered a setback and been forced to delay the invasion. It was a setback that would cost them dearly. Not only would Fort Battleaxe now be defended by one of the legendary Orbs of Proofing, making it almost immune to magical attacks and forcing the enemy to employ only conventional forms of siege tactics, but the reinforcements from Belthar, including three regiments of the Imperial Guard, would have arrived by now and deployed themselves, bringing the entire eastern border of Ilandia back to full strength. It would still be a terrible struggle to resist the invasion when it finally came, but at least now they had a fighting chance.

There was a shout from the shae on the observation platform on top of the bird of paradise's head, and they looked ahead to see four griffins coming in their direction, each of whose riders carried a brightly coloured wand in his left hand.

"Wands of Fire!" cried Thomas in alarm. "They think we're the enemy!"

"They show a deplorable inability to tell friend from foe," said the First Crewman, clearly angry but struggling to maintain his race's characteristic calm and composure. "Can they not see that this is a shayen ship?"

"Of course not," said Thomas. "They've never seen one before, and anyway its appearance could be caused by an illusion spell. All they know is that we're intruding into their airspace."

"They're going to attack!" cried Lirenna as they got closer and aimed their wands.

The First Crewman didn't seem worried, though. "They are no threat to us," he said. "If the Orb has survived the centuries with its power intact, there is no way they can harm us." Even so, though, he ordered a crewman to fly flags of peace, and the two priests tried to catch the griffin rider's attention to let them know that they were allies, not enemies.

Down in the flying ship's hold, one of the shayen wizards stood next to the Orb, where it lay in its carefully constructed cradle, padded and protected by several layers of soft cloth. Only the top half of the Orb showed above the padding and it continued to glow a gentle dull red as the wizard cast a defensive spell on it. Normally, this spell created a sphere of magical energy around the wizard, a sphere that was impervious to all but the most powerful magics, but the Orb absorbed the flowing energies being spun by the wizard, and as it did so its glow brightened until it blazed like a sun and the shae was forced to shade his eyes.

The Orb strengthened and magnified the spell, so that the globe of magical energy it created was large enough to surround the entire ship. A second later, the griffin riders spoke words of command and incandescent beams of light shone from their wands, blossoming into balls of fire where they touched the Globe of Invulnerability. The riders gaped in astonishment when they saw the fabulous flying ship still intact, untouched by the magical fire that should have sent it crashing to the ground in flames, and they took a closer look at the crew, seeing Drake, Petronax and the others for the first time.

     Come on, Petronax mentally begged the rider. Figure it out. Maybe this ship really is just what it seems. After all, a ship capable of withstanding the attack they had just launched against it would have no need for stealth or secrecy.

     Sure enough, the lead rider waved the others to stay back and brought his griffin closer to the ship, through its shell of magical force, which was powerless to stop a material object, and landed on the deck. The ship gave a slight lurch as it accepted the extra weight.

Permission to come aboard, sir," he said, a little uncertainly, as the First Crewman came over to him.

"I grant you permission with great pleasure," replied the shae, smiling pleasantly. "I welcome you aboard the Muellin. I would be grateful if you and your good men would escort us to Fort Battleaxe, to avoid any more unpleasantness."

"Those are my standing orders in situations like this," said the rider as he dismounted. "My name is Wing leader Eddlow, serving with the Fort Battleaxe garrison of the Imperial Beltharan army. May I ask what you're doing in Ilandia? Unless I'm very much mistaken, you're Lourellian, which means you're a long way from home." He glanced at Drake, guessing that the priest was the cause of it all.

"I regret that our business here is confidential, although I do not doubt that it would be perfectly safe to disclose the truth to a man of your undoubted honesty and good character. However, your countrymen here will assure you that we come in peace, on a mission of great importance to both your people and ours. You may rest assured that we have no hostile intentions towards either you or your people."

Drake nodded in confirmation, and the rider sighed, knowing he'd have to be satisfied with that. "Very well," he said. "You will follow our course exactly. Do not deviate from it in the slightest."

So saying, he mounted up again and flew off to join his fellows. The four griffins arranged themselves in formation in front of the flying ship and headed back towards the fortress city, the Muellin following close behind.

Only when the wing leader was safely out of earshot did Thomas give a whoop of joy. "It works!" he cried. "The Orb still works!"

"Under the circumstances, it would have been a shame if it didn't," said Petronax soberly, remembering all his comrades killed in the Shadowsoldiers' ambush. At least now, though, their deaths had meaning. They hadn't died in vain, and the soldier knew that he could finally put their memories to rest and stop feeling guilty for surviving. He'd had the strange feeling, now and again during their quest, that they'd all been watching him from the land of the dead, following his every movement as if, as the sole surviving member of the force that had set out from Fort Battleaxe, all their hopes had been placed in him. Now they were gone, though, and he knew that they were finally at peace, unless the priests of Samnos were right and the fight against evil continued in the next life.

He put the idea out of his head for the time being. There was enough evil to fight in this life, and so he turned his mind to what lay ahead of him in the coming war.

☆ ☆ ☆

That evening, they finally saw the distinctive shape of Battleaxe tower ahead of them, and a great flight of griffins came out to meet them. The wing leader landed on the Muellin again, along with two other griffins, to take Drake, Petronax and the First Crewman into the city to meet General Malchor and Resalintas, while the flying ship and the rest of the travellers waited outside, a safe distance from the fortress city. They wouldn't be allowed within striking distance of the city until its defenders were absolutely sure of their peaceful intentions.

This didn't take too long, though. As soon as Resalintas saw that the young priest who'd so unexpectedly brought a flying shayen warship back with him was none other than his long lost favourite student, he immediately advised the General to let it approach and land. Malchor, who had known Resalintas for over thirty years and trusted his judgement implicitly, agreed and sent word that their shayen visitors were to be warmly welcomed as honoured guests and given every hospitality they had to offer.

The whole city turned out to gape in amazement as the fabulous bird of paradise drifted slowly and gracefully over the city walls and above the high gabled rooftops of the crowded fortress city. Reaching the tower, it cruised with stately dignity above its crown of smaller towers, past soldiers manning weapons designed to repel just this kind of threat. Those soldiers waved and cheered now as the shae folk folded away the ship's wings and tail, even as they continued to keep their weapons trained on it, just in case. The ship then descended slowly through the hole in the tower's roof, into the griffin stables, and landed gently on the sawdust covered assembly floor.

Resalintas, Malchor and Vento arrived a few minutes later, along with Drake, Petronax, the shayen First Crewman and a troop of servicemen headed by a wizard who boarded the shayen ship to supervise the removal of the Orb. The six questers disembarked excitedly and trotted over to where Drake and Petronax were in deep conversation with the three senior military men. The three who, among them, commanded the entire city. Their two former travelling companions greeted them warmly.

     "These are the others I told you of, the ones who found the Sceptre of Samnos," said Drake. "It cannot be doubted that it was Samnos Himself who brought us together."

"Indeed," agreed Resalintas, turning to look at them. His steel grey eyes bored into each of them in turn, making them squirm uncomfortably. "You have done His work well, and no doubt He is well satisfied with you." He turned to Vento. "I believe you have met these young people before."

"Yes, about six months ago," replied the Colonel, unable to hold back a smile despite his embarrassment. "They came to me with a ridiculous tale about the Shadowhosts planning to invade again. Now I ask you, who could possibly believe an outrageous story like that?" They all smiled, all except Resalintas whose face remained as hard as granite. This is no time for euphoria, he thought. The nightmare hasn't even begun yet.

"You've all done a marvelous job, and we are deeply indebted to you," said the General when the laughter had died down. "You will all receive Belthar's highest honours, and probably a sizable financial reward as well. Right now, though, I expect you'll all want to relax and refresh yourselves. Temporary quarters have already been arranged. In the morning, when you're refreshed and fully recuperated, we'll see about enrolling you officially into the army."

"I'm afraid we can't do that," replied Shaun. "Di, Matt and I have to get back home as quickly as possible. Our family needs us."

"Mine too," added Lirenna. "Haven doesn't rely on secrecy alone for its safety. We have to stop wandering humanoids and travellers who might stumble across us by chance, keep them away from our whole area of the mountains. They need me."

"I'm afraid it's probably too late for any of you," said Vento gravely. "The forest is alive with the enemy, you'd never get through. Besides, your family has almost certainly already fled into the mountains. You'd never find them."

The four of them glanced at each other, each seeing the same thing in the eyes of the others. They'd already guessed that going home was no longer an option, but to hear it from the second most senior military man in Ilandia brought the truth of it home to them for the first time. None of them would be seeing their families again until the war was over. "In that case," said Shaun with a sigh of sadness, "It looks as though we're joining the army."

"Splendid!" said Malchor, smiling broadly. "A bit of army training will do wonders for you. I've heard that you're pretty good with a sword, but you'll be even better when you've been shown how by experts. Even a magic sword is only as good as the man holding it. Good, good. Well I can't spend all day in idle conversation, much though I enjoy it. Things to do, you know. Corporal Harriman here'll sort you out." He signaled for the Corporal, who'd been standing in a doorway, to come over, and then the three senior officers left, still talking to each other in low, worried tones.

"If you'll come this way, please," asked the Corporal, and they followed him to the stairs that led two floors down, to the highest floor reached by the lifts powered by the tireless iron slaves.

"So, why haven't the Shads invaded yet?" asked Thomas as they went. "They should have invaded as soon as they found out that we knew of their intentions, before we had time to prepare ourselves. By waiting this long, they've lost an enormous tactical advantage."

"The Colonel was explaining it to us as we were coming up here," replied Petronax. "They were planning to invade four weeks ago, two weeks before the reinforcements from Belthar were due to arrive, but the Samnians spoiled it all by sending their own reinforcements. Thousands of men and several priests. Unfortunately, to get here, they had to go through the Overgreen Forest, where the fifty thousand Shadowsoldiers waiting to invade Ilandia were camped."

He gave a sad sigh. "They were massacred almost to the last man. Only a few stragglers managed to get through, but they managed to make an impressive battle of it before they went down and in the confusion several junior Shadowofficers took the opportunity to advance their careers by assassinating their superiors."

"Dead man's shoes," said Thomas, smiling.

"Quite. Apparently, this sort of thing is quite common in the Shadowarmy, and is the main method by which officers rise through the ranks. The Shadowlord, whoever and whatever he is, even encourages it. He thinks it results in the best men rising to the top. In this case, though, there were so many assassinations that their entire command hierarchy, which is shaky at the best of times, collapsed."

"Resalintas told me that the Shadowhosts exist in a kind of barely organised chaos," said Drake. "They're held together from the top by sheer force, by the threat of severe punishment for even the tiniest infraction."

"That's right," said Petronax. "And so, with so many officers gone, the rest of them fell into a temporary state of complete anarchy in which they were incapable of any kind of co-ordinated action, let alone launch an invasion. They'll have gotten themselves sorted out by now, though, and we can definitely expect them any time now. They won't let themselves be delayed any longer. They know we're getting better prepared with every passing day. There'll be no more help from Samnia, either. They've got too many troubles of their own to send any more men abroad. When the attack comes, we'll have to do the best we can by ourselves."

"Yes," said Thomas, "But now the empire's got the Sceptre of Samnos, another Orb of Proofing, and, best of all, the eight of us. How can we lose?"

The others laughed in agreement all the way down to the third floor.