Onboard the Windspirit, Squeeker and Squawker Fishpaw had finally gotten their sea-legs and the constant bouts of sea-sickness were a thing of the past. While still novice mariners by any account, their skills up in the rigging and down on the deck had improved in leaps and bounds.

Most of their days were still spent scrubbing and swabbing, but the chief boatswain and senior mates were now satisfied enough with their performance to allow them substantial time on their own without constant supervision. This day found them hanging from the bowsprit on harnesses, repainting the large figurehead of a flying ferret which graced the bow of the ship. Since they were out of sight of their officers or anyone else, they proceeded with their task at a leisurely pace, enjoying the sea air and calm seas. Squeeker pointed to a distant red-sailed ship on the horizon.

"There's another one of dem Brotherhood boats. That's five today, they's all over the place...all headin' the same way we are."

Squawker scratched his head.
"Ain't they on our side?" he asked.

"Dat ain't the impression I been getting' from listening to the Smokers." Smokers was what the crew called the Deev. Squeeker continued, "Boatswain Creeg says dat Vasheron had a whole navy's worth of pirates ready to go where we're goin' from Minga, but that them brothers is blocadin' the port."

"If'n the red brothers are agin us, why is we headin' to their home?" Squawker asked in confusion.

Squeeker slapped his brother sharply across the head.
"It's called diplomacy, the Smokers mean ta negotiate with 'em"

"Negotiate? What's that?"

"It's like warnin' 'em to behave and such. I ain't exactly privy to the captain's plans, but I did hear 'im sayin' that he was a gonna make that priest pay."

"What priest is dat, Squeek?"

"I'm thinkin' it's the leader of dem brothers."

"What's all dis negotiatin' and stuff mean ta us?" Squawker asked.

Squeeker thought for a moment.
"Well, if'n we're the only ship against all dem brother-ships, it ain't gonna be good, but when we took dis job nobody said nuthin about no fightin'. I reckon if the blood starts spillin', we gots to get outta here quick, maybe hide on the island we're goin' to."

Squawker was aghast.
"Hide on Xenoth? You got to be light in the head, we'll be trapped forever."

Squeeker shrugged.
"Better'n bein' dead and floatin' in the sea. Anyhow, it might be right nice there, there's no tellin'. We'll have time to decide if it comes to that, meanwhile, don't say nuthin' to nobeast 'ceptin' me. Don't trust no one."

"Not even Boatswain Garrus? I likes him," Squawker said pleadingly.

" 'Specially not him, he'd tell the Smokers we was gonna desert before you could spit, den we'd be dead no matter what."

"I'm right scared now, Squeek."

"Ya should be, this boatin' stuff is good work, but the fightin' and dyin' part, if it comes, ain't for the Fishpaw boys."

Below decks in the captain's cabin, Prince Vasheron was addressing the ten Deev, including Mobus, who would be accompanying the Minge leader to Xenoth when the Windspirit made anchor outside the shield-wall in the morning. He spoke in a calm and measured voice.
"There are several things I want to make perfectly clear. First and foremost, none of you are to speak of any of the events which have transpired since we first left Xenoth...not a word. The Brotherhood has ears everywhere and the less they know, the better our position. Let me repeat...not a word! Do not engage in even the most casual of discussions with anyone other than a fellow Deev, and even then, speak only of events prior to our departure.

"Secondly, bear in mind that once we pass through the barrier we will no longer be able to transmute to Deev-smoke, though we will once again be invulnerable to injury," he shifted uncomfortably, "except of course for that potion he sprayed on Deeb, so stay alert. I do not expect any trouble from those scarlet devils, not yet at least...not until they have what they want from us. To that end we will be leaving the Abitar on board until we can arrange an acceptable transfer. This will serve to keep our ship safe from attack...they wouldn't risk losing the stone to the briny deep.

"Keep your eyes and ears open! Any information, no matter how seemingly trivial, may be of aid to us." He paced in front of his warriors, looking each in the eye before pointing to the door, "Now everyone but Mobus leave me and prepare yourselves."

The Minge, with the exception of Captain Mobus, filed out of the room. Vasheron sat behind his captain's desk and motioned Mobus to sit opposite him.

"This is going to be a delicate negotiation," he began, "Azmeritus will not be pleased that we lost the Rubitar, so I suggest we not mention that fact to him. It would be infinitely preferable for him to think we are withholding it for better terms," he paused, "and if Colonel Taois' mission to Seth-e-Raman is successful, that is exactly what we will do."

"Do you think he knows what happened in Seth-e ?" Mobus asked.

"I have no doubt he had, and has, spies in the city, so he is at least aware that we ran the blockade. I strongly believe that he is unaware the Rubitar sank, it was dark and that accursed storm the wizard conjured obscured the events. It is far more likely he will believe we are using the Rubitar for leverage, since I am certain that is what he would do in the same position. I would be shocked if he actually expects us to be delivering both stones."

Mobus looked pensive. He stood and paced across the cabin, then turned to Vasheron.
"Do you believe he can restore our immortality outside the barrier?"

Vasheron chuckled.
"Even if he can, he won't, no matter what. It would be foolish. The potion he used on Deeb is not something he can rely upon to control us in an all out attack. So, no...he won't restore our full powers."

Mobus threw his paws in the air in confusion.
"If that's the case, why are we even returning here? Why are we giving that vile priest the holy stones? We could ransom them back to the wizards and make a fortune for us all or keep them for ourselves."

The Minge prince smiled.
"Good questions. Let me share something with you. It will not be Azmeritus whom we will ultimately be dealing with. I have made contact with one of his senior followers who does not believe that Azmeritus should control the Brotherhood. He wishes to abandon the mongoose's path and establish the Brotherhood as a power to ultimately control all of Arishamal with us as the power behind the throne."

Mobus looked stunned.
"So all this...the Rubitar...the Abitar...it's all a decoy?"

"Not quite, Mobus. Our secret ally needs Azmeritus to awaken a great force which will be the basis of our conquest of Arishamal and for that, the priest needs the stones, primarily the Abitar, which luckily is in our possession. Once that is done we will have the pleasure of crushing that accursed mongoose and assuming our rightful place."

"As second in command behind your traitor?"

Vasheron walked to Mobus and slapped him on the back.
"The Minge do not serve... they lead. We will bide our time, become red brothers ourselves and then eliminate our host. I cannot abide traitors, no matter how useful they have been."

Mobus smiled.
"I apologize for doubting you, my lord. I fully understand now why you are our leader. Who is this traitor within the Brotherhood?"

Vasheron closed his eyes.
"That, my faithful Mobus, is my secret for now."

It was in the early pre-dawn hours, under a cloud shrouded sky that the Windspirit made anchorage a quarter of a mile off the coast of Xenoth in front of the cliff face which supported the Deev Castle.

The magical barrier, a hundred yards from where the ship bobbed lightly on the sea, blocked out the moving clouds above the island leaving a massive circular void through which the fading stars and approaching dawn were clearly visible. On deck, skiffs were being lowered into the sea to transport Prince Vasheron and his Deev entourage to his meeting with Azmeritus.

Those Deev remaining behind received instruction while the remainder of the crew with the exception of the midwatch returned to their quarters below deck to snatch a few more hours of sleep after the grueling task of anchoring the ship and making fast her now stowed sails. As the first scarlet rays of the awakening sun began to rake across the deck, the skiff began its slow journey through the shield toward the forbidden land.

Squeeker and Squawker Fishpaw sat on the capstan they had manned earlier to help raise the anchor. They watched the skiff breach the barrier on its way towards the shore. Squawker stifled a yawn as Squeeker stood and stretched his arms above his head and addressed his brother.

"I'm glad we wasn't told to row them ashore. We'd be stuck there forever."

"It don't look so bad...kinda nice and green." Squawker commented.

"Still a prison and I ain't partial to prisons, besides, that place is packed with dem creepy scarlet holy-men and they scares me good," he turned and looked to the open sea, now dotted with the red-sailed ships they had seen earlier, "and it looks like there's more of 'em headin' this way. I'm right nervous."

"About what, Squeek?"

"There's blood in the air...all around us. I got a feelin' this ain't gonna end well fer us."

"Why's that? What'd we do wrong?" Squawker asked.

Squeeker shook his head sadly.
"We been bad beasts, bro. Our mama, rest her soul...she'd be weepin' at how we been livin' our lives. We ain't nuthin' but a coupla cheap thieves. No one but us knows we're even alive...or cares. It's beasts like us what be the ones who gets killed, that's what we was born for...to die at some other beast's paw."

Squawker frowned.
"I don't like it when you talks that way. We ain't bad thieves, we ain't never killed no beast."

"We ain't never helped any either. The world don't feel no benefit from us bein' around. We ain't to be trusted, Squawk, and that's a fact. This is the first honest job we ever had and even it's a workin' for beasts we always heard was evil."

He looked at the concern in his brother's eyes. He forced himself to grin, "Aw, don't go frettin' 'cause of anything I said. I'm just feelin' down and a bit scared. It'll be alright. We're gonna be real careful and stick together like we always done. We'll become decent beasts and find us a coupla nice gals what'll love us. Maybe we'll become farmers or such if we can't open a pub."

"Will the gals be pretty?" Squawker asked.

Squeeker let out a genuine laugh.
"I ain't gonna lie to you no more, so I gots to say it'll be a wonder if'n they are. We ain't the best lookin' of beasts ourselves, but they'll be fine gals, full of goodness and love. Besides we all knows the homelier a gal is, the better she can cook."

Squawker smiled back at his brother.
"I don't care if'n they're pretty Squeek, just as long as they kin love me. It must be a swell feelin' ta know that you're loved...I'd like that. Mama loved me and she weren't pretty at all...yeah, two gals to love us...that would be a wonderful thing."

Squeeker looked off into the distance wistfully.
"That it would, brother...that it would."