On one fateful night of his journey, Judson had a frightening mare.

He was high up in the sky, soaring without a care between folds of dark clouds whilst bathed by brilliant rays from the moon. He was self-conscious about still being on his way to Adwys and could even sight the strip of land on the horizon.

Albeit, when he looked on again, the great kingdom was no more.

It had been replaced by smaller villages that he could not at all recognize though he somehow knew in his mind that he was nearing Bremeton.

Just as he wondered when and why he changed course all of a sudden, the earth shook. He felt the tremor tear strongly through the air and likened it to an unforgettable experience he once had in the mountain pass of Elsor. His chest filled up with fear and a hint of loneliness as he peered about for the source of such brief turbulence in the dead of night.

But the disturbance did not seem to have come from below.

All of a sudden, the skies grew hot.

He looked over his shoulder and glimpsed with the widest eyes a magnificent light. It was barreling toward him much faster than he could comprehend. The closer it got, the hotter it became, so much so that his eyes began to burn in spite of the distance.

Swerving just in time to avoid the phenomenal object, he managed to discern for a few seconds how it truly looked up close before it traveled too far. The kind of light it gave was one he never knew before. It felt natural, but was surrounded by a much softer glow as of moonlight, exuding white-hot heat that could match the sun.

However, as it traveled farther, it began to transform. A great spark came off and licked it whole, and it burst into incredible flames.

Judson's heart leapt into his throat as he tailed it at a very reasonable distance.

Then, he hovered to watch as the object rolled over the sleeping villages, sending sprays of heat and mock daylight over them that lasted only a second.

In his heart, he prayed that the ball would not crash into a place where people lived. Luckily, it sailed past the last village about four miles farther before it met the ground. A staggering explosion was the result as the ball buried itself core deep into the earth, forming a stupendous crater overspread with fire and debris.

With his heart still thundering in his ears, Judson decided to inspect the crash site. The environment was scorching hot, but he managed to hover in the center for a while before it grew too uncomfortable to linger.

As he flew away, he wondered about the shards he had seen strewn in different places on the ground – strange pieces of formless matter that gleamed silver and seemed to melt slowly under the perilous heat. To him, they looked very much like metal. Godly metal.

That could only mean one thing, he thought.

But his dream was interrupted by the sound of quiet shuffling, or at least a lazy attempt at it.

He stirred in search, squinting with sleepy eyes at the sparse trees scattered about the moonlit environment and his own bed of dried leaves.

Again, the shuffling reached his ears, low and determined, as if whatever made the noise was eager to reveal itself, but as quietly as possible.

Judson stood up and unleashed Calaire, sweeping it in sword form over the environment. He could not particularly use a sword. His intent was to frighten his unknown foe.

He stayed low and spun around.

Turning behind, he was startled by a yelp.

"By the pickle, sire!"

Judson's mouth dropped, as did Calaire. "Qar!"

The Burrower lowerer his lifted hands, his nose wiggling in excitement as he came forward to nestle Judson's arm in a hug.

"Apologies for startling you, sire. It's marvelous to see you again."

Judson laughed in relief and pure joy as he rubbed his little friend on the back in greeting. "I did not think I would be seeing you for another few seasons. How did you find me?"

Qar backed up, illuminated by the light of the moon as he looked up into Judson's face. "The earth stores fragrance from your feet. I basically followed your scent. And er, this helped me travel fast. Seems I've exhausted the magic inside it at last."

He held up his necklace, which had bleached so white that it was impossible to call it a gem anymore, and let it drop into Judson's hand.

"You used this?" Judson queried, flipping the cold piece of stone. It felt oddly delicate in his fingers, as if a tighter grip would crush it to dust.

"Juneberry taught me once that crossing realms do not always require a seal or the Bridge itself. I used the gem to travel here."

"How?"

By now, sleep had fallen from Judson's eyes completely. He was very eager to know.

"Well, it's all a matter of contact, you see. The gem works like a key of some sorts. It can open doors by using an item that connects in any way with wherever one aims to go. In my case, sire, I made use of some soil you had already stepped on."

Judson stared down at the stone again, his mind working on many possibilities. "Fascinating! Yet it grows soft. Why is that?"

Qar heaved a sigh. "Juneberry warned that the stone will eventually grow weak when it has been worn out. I think it might already be. I've lost count of how many times I used it in total."

With a nod, Judson returned the necklace. He realized when the Burrower slung it over his neck that it no longer dragged him down like before. A lot of its weight had also been shed through constant usage.

"I apologize once again for interrupting on your slumber, sire."

"Think nothing of it. I am glad you are here."

"I was looking up at the morning sun only moments ago and now there is the moon here." Qar noted, rubbing his front with a queasy expression on his face. "It works a strange way in me, the abrupt change of time."

"You need rest." Judson offered, lowering onto his bed. "We should discuss more at daybreak."

"Indeed, indeed!" Qar lumbered across the small glade toward the foot of a tree. "Such a lovely, homey touch this one has."

Despite the distance, Judson heard the creature's tired exclamation followed by a long yawn. He chuckled and lay on his arms, removing his gaze from Qar to stare up at the moon. In that instant, flashes of his dream came back to his mind and made him frown.

He recalled tremor in the air and light passing so quickly that his eyes had felt blinded just by looking at it, but that was about all. He remembered nothing else. Even though he tried hard, his memory seemed to have stored the same two images that replayed in his mind. He did recall how frightened he had felt though the reason was blurry. It felt as if he could have done something, but he did not, or worse, had no power to. The feeling was a very depressing one and kept him awake longer than he expected.

In the morning, Judson woke up to the smell of vegetable being roasted, and the sound of crackling fire. He stretched the stiffness out of his back and watched Qar fumble around a small hearth.

"You rise early now?"

The Burrower seemed to have learned new habits during his stay in Crysoton.

Qar turned and his face lifted into a smile. "A good morning it is, sire. I felt no need to sleep in. I've made you a Fae Salad."

Judson propped himself using both hands, wondering if he ever heard of such. "A what?"

"Sauteed mushrooms, some spring onions, bell peppers, crystal kelp, err, fresh carrots, purple cauliflower, and golden beets. Altogether, those make a Fae Salad."

As he spoke, he shuffled over with a bowl full of an admixture of colorful things with smoke rising off every inch.

Judson's nose filled with a wondrously different aroma and made his stomach grumble. He received the wooden spoon and took a quick first bite. Everything made a satisfying crunch as he chewed.

"This is delightful." He commended.

"The Crysotoni have a different approach to meals, sire. I'm sure you noticed."

Judson nodded in agreement, unable to stop himself from eating with much vigor.

"In my time there, I learned many things." Qar went on to explain, helping himself to another bowl. The morning breeze seemed to affect his fire only a by a whisker. "They grow the best kind of herbage in the best soil. I brought you some. I'm sure you could do a handful with them."

Judson felt himself grow warm. "That was very thoughtful, Qar. Thank you. When exactly did you leave the realm?"

"A fortnight ago. My journey was slow because of a few setbacks." Then, Qar chuckled nervously.

Judson tilted his head in a knowing manner. "You mean you got distracted a few hundred times because you stumbled upon one lovely thing or another."

"True to an extent, sire, yes." Qar admitted, finally laughing. "All the same, I had no clear vision on my path. It's been seasons since you left, and I did not know where to begin in my search for you, but luck smiled upon me in a village. Its name has skipped my mind. It seems you lodged in a forest near it. That was the place I picked up on your scent."

Judson did not try to think of the village Qar spoke of. He was too engrossed in his salad.

"I lost the scent many times afterwards, and in some places it became so faint that I feared my own sense of smell had played tricks on me and led me astray. But two nights ago, I came upon an outskirt. It carried a scent stronger than any, and I knew for certain that you were close by, sire."

"Your devotion and vigilance is plausible, Qar."

"Where do you aim to go this time? I reckon you have more information."

At last, Judson lowered his empty bowl and fished around for his waterskin. After a long swig, he heaved a sigh and answered, "To the Lower South, Qar. That is my new destination."

Qar's eyes grew wide. His bowl tipped in his little hands. "The Elvenhome?"

"Yes. There is information that only they can give me, and that is a stepping stone to succeeding in this quest of mine."

"Sounds enthralling, sire." Qar exclaimed, jerking in excitement. "It gladdens me so much that it is at this point I found you. After a heavenly time in Crysoton, I might get to experience the pleasure of dwelling with the Elves. When do we start?"

"As soon as we get a seal of permission from the King of Adwys."

Qar's face was instantly filmed by terror. His voice quivered. "Bayrak? But he hates you."

"He might not remember me." Judson stated though it sounded silly even to him.

"We cannot risk you getting captured, sire. That would do more harm than good. You have lost so much time already."

"Nonetheless, I have to try." He placed both hands on his knees, contemplating.

Qar stayed in solemn silence for a while before he suddenly perked up, clutching his necklace. "The gem. We can try to use the gem one last time."

"You said it yourself that it has worn out by now."

"Perhaps, but a try is not at all harmful. It may save us the trouble."

Qar presented the stone in one hand and gestured with the other. "Is there any item you possess that is reminiscent of the Lower South?"

Judson glanced down at himself, pondering. There was nothing he owned that could possibly act as a link to the Elves. He never got the chance to live with them. Only Waverly did. All the same, she was absent and could not help in the situation.

"Afraid not, Qar. There is not a thing at all." He responded.

Qar easily sensed his master's morose countenance. "All is not lost, sire. Didn't you say before that Waverly fought a few battles in the Elvenhome during her time there?"

Judson gave a few nods. "I did."

"And if I am correct, she used the weapon you wear around your wrist?"

At that, he perked up. "Yes, yes she did. Could it be a possible link?"

"It can be, sire. Juneberry said that as long as the linking item carries memory of any sort, or has touched the soils of a place, then it is certain to open a door. May I have the wristband, sire?"

"Of course."

It was dangerous to get his hopes up, but he could not help the excitement that cooked inside him as he surrendered Calaire to Qar. Should the stone's magic be able to transport them to the Southern Elvenhome, all that was left would be to figure out a way to stay alive.

His smile faltered when Qar suddenly paused. "What is it?"

"I'm afraid I left out a small detail, sire. The stone cannot transport anyone who is not holding it, therefore only one of us may make the trip."

Frustration began to gnaw at Judson. He did not wish to take advantage of Qar's jewel. The Burrower had spent weeks searching for him. It would be unfair to leave him by himself after they had just reunited only the previous night.

But before he could say anything in protest, Qar placed the stone into his hands alongside Calaire.

"Go ahead, sire."

"No, I cannot—"

"I understand the importance of what you are to do. As a matter of fact, I respect it far too much to be selfish. Travel on without me, sire. I will find you a second time. I'll find some way to make travel to the South. Use the jewel. Please, don't refuse me."

Judson swallowed, feeling deeply honored by Qar's sense of understanding. He did not fight the smile that broke on his face. "You are a true friend, Qar. I hate to put you through any kind of trouble, but I have seen how brave and efficient you are. I trust you will find me a second time."

The Burrower smiled, then he lifted a puny finger. "Could you, erm, do well to leave a few trails, sire? Makes the whole job of seeking a bit less troublesome."

"I definitely will." Judson laughed and then focused on the gem. "How do I make it work?"

"You may need to stand up, sire."

He obeyed and held out the items. "Now, what?"

"Touch them together and visualize your destination as best you can. Oh, and don't forget your satchel."

Judson picked the bag and slung it over his shoulder. "Farewell, Qar. I hope to see you soon."

"And I, you. Farewell, sire, and the best of luck in all the world."

The moment he thought of the South and touched the jewel with Calaire, the greatest pull took him from behind and everything went white.

The experience was beyond frightening.

Judson yelled out as he seemed to be falling recklessly inside a void too strange to comprehend.

Before he got the chance to gather his bearings, he fell with a loud thud to the ground and felt his spine snap, like a breaking chair.

"Ow!"

He blinked away dust and spied trees overhead. Giant trees. Their broad leaves spread out in every direction and shaded his eyes from weak sunlight.

With pained moans, he rolled over, carrying heapd of dry underbrush with him, and caught sight of the gemstone.

It was crumbling to dust.

First, he retrieved his satchel then Calaire, which he replaced on his wrist, feeling immensely grateful for Qar. A huge part of his long journey had just been severed through magic. It relieved him to a different extent.

Just then, he picked up on soft noises.

"Who's there?" A light voice questioned.

Judson peered around in search of the speaker, unable to pick himself up from the forest floor. He remained rooted, until an arrow flew right past his eyes and pinned into the ground near him.

"Intruder!" A yell carried through the entire forest, sending birds into a frightened flutter.

Rustling leaves roused Judson to move as fast as he could manage.

The moment he knelt up, an arrow found a place inside his shoulder.

He bucked with a pained yelp and was missed by a few more that flew past and over him like raining darts. He grabbed the hilt of the projectile buried deep and slowly pulled it out, groaning aloud.

At that moment, Revvi's warning replayed clearer than day in his mind.

Death awaits you on a threshold.

He watched in horror as his upper half quickly soaked with his own blood. The sight disoriented him, and he barely registered it when a second arrow pierced into his thigh. The presence of another foreign object in his body unnaturally weakened him.

As he made to dislodge the second arrow, Elves closed in all around in great numbers, armed with great bows and fierce arrows.

"hāélañne édéri." Someone ordered. (Attack him)

Immediately, Judson made a fist, feeling the weight of the earth as he raised his arm. The ground trembled when large walls of stone began to erupt on four sides of him, completely hiding him from view.

"A fortress." The muffled voice of an Elf came from outside. "Bring it down!"

Judson slumped against the cold wall, engulfed in near darkness. His breath came in labored pants and filled the space as he listened to the Elves try all that they could to break down his stronghold.

Whether or not they succeeded in shattering the walls, or he lowered the barriers himself, he would not survive - not with how much blood he was losing. The army sounded angry, though he doubted that they recognized him. Even if they did, it mattered very little and would only drive them to wanting to kill him faster.

There was apparently no way that he could walk out alive.

Instead, his mind stayed on Waverly. He wondered what she would have done in such a situation. She was brave and would face her enemies head-on. She never cowered before adversity.

Overtaken by a sense of finality and resolve to take a chance, he willed the walls to crumble.

Amidst the great dust that took a while to settle and the coughing Elves, he took off Calaire, willed it to become a crescent and lifted it up.

"I come. . . in peace." He mumbled, unsure whether anyone heard.

Because Elves barely wore metal in their armor, no sounds came off the silent company.

"It's the banished Shade!" Someone finally voiced in recognition. This time, anger was evident in the speaker's tone. "Elu'idnu." (Take aim)

The sound of multiple arrows being drawn in unison made Judson's heart stop for a stretch of terrifying seconds.

The scenario felt sickeningly familiar.

But before the army could unleash waves of Elvish wood upon him, someone interrupted.

"Hold!" A female ordered from a distance. "Restore your arrows."

Judson watched with blurry eyes as a few Elves reluctantly obeyed. They parted to allow the female make her way to the frontline.

A She-Elf he thought looked familiar came to stand before him, staring fixatedly on the glowing crescent blade he held halfway in the air with a quivering hand. When she locked eyes with him, her identity flickered inside his brain. Only thing he could remember well was that she had once been a good friend of Waverly's.

"Restore your arrows." She calmly repeated.

"But, Commander, the King's orders!" An Elf reminded.

The She-Elf turned to the speaker. "I remember the King's orders as well as you do, Tiamus, but now you have mine. I said, restore your arrows."

Her gaze swept across the army in warning. In unison, they all did as she instructed.

Then she came closer and knelt to become level with Judson's face, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder in inspection. The pain from his injuries had tripled enough to make him perspire to a great degree, and his breaths were slow.

"Añair!" She called out. "Treat him at once."

A different She-Elf hurried forward and helped Judson stand. The rest of the army dispersed with stares that lingered as long as their begrudging mumbles.

At the foot of a tree, Añair set him down. Out of her woven bag, she produced rolls of neat bandages, a slim vial, two needles, a piece of clean cloth, and a waterskin. As she cleaned up his shoulder wound, another She-Elf joined her, muttering something in Elvish and pointing to his leg. Then she also took out a piece of cloth and put pressure on the bleeding wound.

In a space of two minutes, Judson started to feel a lot more comfortable.

The pains reduced enough to let him breathe easy. Añair offered him a fat apple before going to fetch the Commander again.

The familiar She-Elf returned accompanied by a male. Judson looked up at the pair.

"You have a lot of nerve to enter the Eastern border, Kartogarath." The male Elf voiced in a tone that said he was more impressed than angry.

"I'm sure he has a very good reason, Freañin."

"Nonetheless, you would've been skewered had the Commander not intervened in time." The Elf laughed, then turned to the female. "I'll leave the questioning to you, Olwirien."

Añair returned with more treatment just as the Commander settled to sit down on underbrush with her legs criss-crossed.

"I am very certain you remember me as I do you." She began.

He nodded once. "I do now."

"You may call me Phyllis."

Judson blinked, recalling faintly, but surely. "There used to be purple in your hair."

"Yes. I matured out of the desire to look like a Derew by all means." She nodded with a little chuckle. Then, for a moment, her eyes roamed his entire face. "If I remember correctly, there were two of you that left our city on horseback."

Judson's eyebrows furrowed.

"Elves may perceive time differently, but it does pass over us albeit in a complicated fashion. I can sense that a longer time has passed since your departure."

She paused and her expression translated deep worry.

"Where is Waverly? Why is she not with you? You have her crescent. What does that mean?"

"It is a long tale. I fear I cannot tell it all. I came because I truly need your help. You are my last hope."

Phyllis seemed to understand the gravity of his words in spite of the absence of a clearer explanation. "On grounds of your bounty, my Company will raise questions and object if I let you leave this place alive, so we must be smart. Play along."

At that, she stood up and shouted in beckoning. "Naltinor! Hunine!"

Two Elves hurried to answer. They appeared a tad younger by facial appearance.

"I need you to deliver a message to the Royal Palace as quickly as possible. We have discovered a barbarian. An old enemy of the South. Relay a message that the leader of your Company requests to bring the intruder beyond the Eastern border. I intend him to answer directly to the King's General Arm before taking further action."

Then, she closed the space between herself and the Elves to whisper something that they both nodded to before bounding off.

Again, she came to sit before Judson.

"Let us await their return. In the meantime, I'm ready to listen to your story."

Añair produced another apple and excused herself to give them privacy.

"We reached the North."

Instantly, Phyllis straightened - a lot more than she already was. Her eye twitched and her lips parted in crystal clear shock. Moments passed before she was able to speak again.

"What did you say?"

"The Mountain of Lore." Judson repeated. "We reached it."

"You defeated the sea beast?" She whispered in disbelief.

"No." His head shook. "We found a way to get past Homaroggon."

"How?" Her voice was full of wonder.

"A Nedae. The last of them. Waverly found one."

A kind of proud smile illuminated Phyllis's face. "I believe she did." Then obvious curiosity and confusion set in again. "What did you find in the North? How did you survive it?"

"I cannot explain." He admitted, thinking back on the journey. "We should have died. Looking at it now, I can barely believe how we did not."

"What happened?"

"We achieved the purpose of our journey."

Then, he removed his back from the tree trunk and slowly lifted his left wing.

Phyllis gaped first before covering her mouth. It appeared she was realizing the difference for the first time.

"By Gayl! You really did it!"

"It cost more than what we bargained for."

Her eyes were piercing and full of question.

"Waverly was taken by The Chasma."

Something like a weak cry escaped Phyllis before she pressed both hands to her mouth once more. Her eyes filled with tears, and the way she continuously shook her head meant she was going to cry any time soon.

Yet there was nothing he could do to console her.

For a long time, her face stayed buried in her hands. From the gentle shake in her shoulders, he suspected that she was sobbing.

He put down his apple because it had suddenly lost its taste. Her reaction to his news was nothing he had not seen before, but it broke him in a different way because she was one of the few people who actually knew Waverly as much as he did. He contemplated reaching out to touch her in consolation, but a few watchful eyes were still on him and he did not want to do anything to further implicate himself.

Instead, he allowed her recover on her own.

By the time she lifted her head again, twilight was over the forest, and Hunine and Naltinor had returned.

"Commander," One spoke up. "Your request has been granted."

"Thank you, Hunine. Naltinor!" She acknowledged, rising. Her face showed no trace of tears though it looked grave. "Ready the horses. We leave at once!"

It was difficult to ride a galloping horse with an injury in one's leg, but Judson managed it by clenching his teeth to prevent any yelps. He wondered where he was truly being taken as they rode through the green forest.

A pleasant sense of newness hung about the environment that told him the Elves were almost completely healed from past torments of The Great Unrest. He appreciated the fact that Derews were abundant in almost every tree. He could sense them all. Some even bravely peeked out of their trunks to spy the galloping procession.

Phyllis rode up ahead, with Freañin in the rear, Judson behind, and two more Elves on the flank.

After a while, the forest was left behind, though not wholly, and they came into a part of the Woodlands.

Judson remembered the place only because Waverly had schooled him many times about it, but her explanation did little justice to the actual beauty of the Woodlands.

It was all nature from start to finish, and Judson felt more at home in it than he did in Crysoton.

The roads were oddly quiet. Only a handful of Elves were loitering, and he doubted that was the usual way of things.

"Since the NeverEnd began," Phyllis knowingly began to explain. Judson had ridden close to her and did not realize it, until she spoke. "the Eastern border has witnessed constant attacks. We thought they would lessen as time went on, but when The Lilting came and those ambushes still somehow pushed through our defences, a higher need for vigilance was undertaken. The King declared that a curfew be observed beginning at twilight and sentries be placed on all flanks of the capital."

"Including the sea?" Judson knew well of the impenetrable waters that sheltered the whole of the East.

"No." She responded flatly. "We leave our enemies to tempt Lord Gayl by themselves."

"Your enemies, what are they?"

"Who are they, you mean?" Freañin offered. "Who else, but those mountain-born devil Outcasts?"

"Do they have a reason for doing this?"

"Their inbred hatred for our kind is reason enough, Shade." Freañin replied.

Choosing to let the matter lie, Judson pondered in silence for the rest of the way.

Soon, a dry marshland presented itself.

The environment was decorated with growing things in such a spectacular way that made him very pleased. It was almost as though nature had intended to beautify the environment herself.

The horses came to a stop beside a giant tree in the middle of the marshland. It was heavily flanked by tall bushes, wildflowers, and other homey items that made Judson's heart ache for his own tree. However, the foreign structure was a few hundred times bigger and more stunning than his.

A magnificent house stretched across the berth of the tree's powerful boughs, yet an abundance of space and a wonderful canopy of leaves crowned its roof.

Judson glanced up to squint at a figure at the very top of the tree, strolling about from branch to branch.

"What's he doing up there?" Phyllis's rhetorical question was laced with impatience and hints of frustration.

"He is expecting us." Freañin put out, placing a hand on his waist.

Judson climbed down the horse with care and joined in wondering why their supposed host was on the roof.

"I'm not going to shout." Phyllis concluded testily. "Our meeting is meant to be discreet. Find me a rock, Saen'yr."

One of the other Elves peered around, picked up a lump of stone and handed it over. Phyllis hefted it in her open hand for a bit, then leaned back slightly and threw.

The rock sailed up the tree and connected – very audibly – with the figure's head.

He yelped and touched the spot.

Judson could not help the chuckle that came out of him at the sight. He glanced at Phyllis. "That was an incredibly accurate toss."

She shrugged. "When you're betrothed to one who's extremely skilled at throwing things, you learn to catch them before they hit you. You also learn to throw them right back."

She laughed and looked to the tree, where the figure was descending as easily as a monkey would. He slid down the last bough that connected to his verandah and hopped down the wide stairs.

When he finally closed the space, Judson's eyebrows lifted in instant recognition.

"Diarmaid." He spoke before he could stop himself.

Though the Elf appeared older than the last time they met, so much that he was unrecognizable, hints of mischief were on his face that did not seem to age. His hair had grown long enough to touch his stomach and his jawline was set as though he was contemplating something worrisome.

Yet when a smile broke out on his face, all forms of seriousness fell off him.

He stretched an arm out to Judson, seeming a lot more surprised than Phyllis had upon seeing him.

"By the sails of Gayl!" He exclaimed heartily as Judson received the handshake. "Son of the dawn came back!"

Judson spared a grin. "Hello to you, too."

"And also to the very irrelevant rest of us." Freañin piped, gesturing to himself and his companions.

"I sent messengers to let you know we were coming." Phyllis stated matter-of-factly. "We were supposed to be as stealthy as possible."

"You speak as if you don't know me, Phyllis." Diarmaid's upturned hands spread out. "I can do secret, just not stealth. Look at me! I'm old."

"You walked down a sloping branch without teetering." Judson pointed out.

"That's a different argument." The Elf objected, then heaved a sigh. "Now, to what do I owe this urgent pleasure?"

"I assumed you'd have figured it out by now." Phyllis said in a low tone, gesturing to the side with her head.

When Diarmaid looked his way, Judson released Calaire in its crescent form, and the former's hands dropped limply to his sides.

His entire countenance turned pale.

"Oh gods!"

He swallowed and hurriedly ushered everyone toward the stairs. "Come on inside at once!"