"As soon as we've restocked the ship," said Egil. "You and I will see to it when we've settled in."

Alos nodded. "And we'll get some charts, too, right? At least of the Avagon."

Aiko looked at the oldster. "I thought you were quit of us, Alos."

Alos glared at the Ryodoan, but then his gaze softened. "There's no taverns in Aban. Damnfool religions and their damnfool beliefs."

"Ah," said Aiko, and then fell silent.

Following the harbormaster's directions, along the ways they fared, and often street urchins or mendicants or merchants would approach them to plead for alms or to sell various wares. But one look at Aiko with her yellow skin, or at Arin with her pointed ears, or at both with their tilted eyes, and the beggars and haranguers would back away, muttering and making signs.

Soon they reached their destination, a gilded crescent on a sign outside announcing the name of the hostel. The innkeeper nervously assigned them rooms, apprehensive at these women in the group-two exotics and another, all of them wearing men's clothes and none having the decency to cover her face. Infidels all.

"Here," said Ferret, pulling out her sketch of Norn's card, the page cut free from the logbook. "I have something to show you."

But before she could unfold it, Aiko reached out and stayed her hand. "No, Ferai," said Ryodoan. "Not here. Not now. Not him."

"Wha-?"

"My tiger says no."

"Tiger? Oh."

Ferret refolded the parchment and tucked it away.

"Where did you get this," hissed the 'alim. The scholar quickly folded the vellum shut and slid it back across the table while looking 'round the interior of the great library to see if any nearby students had seen the sketch.

Ferai stood before him, flanked by Arin and Aiko, the Ryodoan's swords sheathed. At the entry stood Delon. Of Egil and Alos there was no sign.

Ferai took up the parchment and glanced about also. Scattered at tables here and there, young men ducked their heads, embarrassed at being caught staring at exposed female faces, faces out in the open for any and all to see. Foreigners, they were-foreigners and infidels- and even though Aban was a port city, seldom did naked-faced outland females venture within; when they did, it seems the whole city would stir with the news. But these were not merely naked-faced females, oh, no, for two of them were pale skinned, and one was yellow! And two had tilted eyes, while one had pointed ears. They were northerners, outlanders, Elves, djinn, peries, succubi, houris, demons, angels, seraphim, cherubim, or any number of other such beings, depending upon one's theology, or teachings, or upon experience itself.

"It was a drawing on a card," said Ferret.

"I would not go waving it about, if I were you," murmured the wisp of a man, his nut brown features taut with alarm.

"Why?" asked Ferai, lowering her own voice.

"Because it is proscribed."

"Proscribed?"

"Shhh," shushed the scholar, looking about. Then he whispered, "It represents a forbidden religion."

Ferret whispered back: "Forbidden? Why?"

"Because it is associated with demons."

Arin cleared her throat. The man flinched, and he did not look directly at her, she of the slanted eyes and tipped ears. The Dylvana murmured, "Tell me, scholar, what says the inscription?"

"Come, let us go to a place where we may talk freely," sissed the 'alim.

He led them through the stacks, pausing long enough to select a particular roll from among many, each ensconced in its own pigeon hole. Then, motioning them to follow, he stepped to a small chamber, brushing in past a hanging bead curtain. Delon, following, at a word from Ferai, stood ward at the chamber entry.

Inside the room stood a table equipped with inkpots and quills, and with several chairs ranged 'round. The man gestured for them to sit, and as they did so, he asked, "Who are you, and why have you come to me?"

Aiko and Ferret looked to Arin, and she said, "We came to these archives seeking aid, seeking knowledge."

The man snorted. "There are any number of scholars herein. Why me?"

Arin glanced at Aiko, and the Ryodoan said, "I chose you, sage, for you are safe."

"Safe?"

"So I was told," answered Aiko, touching her chest.

"Who sent you?"

"None," replied Arin. "We came on our own."

For the first time, the 'alim looked her squarely in the face, as if seeking a sign that she spoke truly. Arin gazed back at him, and he lowered his eyes.

"This knowledge you seek, why do you want it?"

Now Arin hesitated, but Aiko nodded, and the Dylvana said, "We follow a rede in the hopes of diverting disaster."

The scholar nodded, then asked, "And what does the sketch have to do with the rede?"

Again Arin glanced at Aiko, and again the golden warrior nodded. Arin sighed, then said, "We are not certain, yet it may be a vital link to something we seek."

Silence fell within the chamber, the sage considering what he had heard. Finally, as if he had made up his mind, he said, "You were fortunate to have chosen to come to me, for I am one of the few who will not report you and the knowledge you seek to the imamin of the Fists of Rakka."

"Fists of Rakka?"

"An arm of the ascendant religion in Aban. They believe they know the one true way."

Ferret raised her eyebrows. "The one true way?"

The sage glanced at. the doorway and then intoned, "There is no God but Rakka. Fear Him and obey Him, for

He is the Lord of all." The scholar sighed. "It is but one of many 'one true ways.' "

Aiko grunted, then asked, "What has this to do with our mission?"

"Just that the thing you seek is but another 'one true way,' though this one has been driven into hiding."

Ferai unfolded the sketch and slid it across the table to him. "These symbols, are they Sarainese or Hurnian?"

"Hurnian?" The sage took up the paper. "Ah, yes, I see; to the untutored eye they are much the same. No, no, the inscription above the door, it is written in Sarainese and it names a place: Mikdash Hamavokh-the Temple of the Labyrinth." He slid the sketch back to Ferai.

Arin leaned forward. "And this temple, what dost thou know of it?"

"Just that it is said that decades past the niswan imamin min Ilsitt took refuge there from persecution."

"Nis-nis-" Ferret paused and shook her head. "What did you just say?"

"Niswan imamin min Ilsitt," replied the sage. "It means the women priests of Ilsitt."

"Ilsitt?"

"She is a goddess and goes by many names: Ilsitt, Shailene, Elwydd-"

"Elwydd!" exclaimed Arin.

The sage nodded.

"Is she also named Megami?" asked Aiko.

The sage shrugged. "Perhaps. Though I've not heard that name before."

"What about this god Rakka?" growled Ferai. "Does he go by many names as well?"

"Indeed," replied the scholar. "Rakka, Huzar-"

"Gyphon?" interjected Arin.

Without looking at her, the sage nodded.

Arin exhaled a long sigh, then said, "This Temple of the Labyrinth… how do we find it?"

The scholar took up the large vellum scroll and rolled it open upon the table and sat inkpots at each corner to hold it flat. It was a map. He stabbed a finger down to the parchment. "Here is Aban, and here"-he slid his finger in a straight line across the map-"to the east lies this maze, and somewhere within is the temple."

"Maze?" Ferret frowned. "But this section of the map is blank."

"Not quite," said the sage, pointing to a faint irregular boundary. "This is its extent."

Inscribed within the faded tracery were added Sarainese symbols:

"What do these mean?" asked Ferret, pointing to the ornate characters.

"Um, Mevokh Hashed-the Demon's Maze."

"Demon?"

"A number of years past, it is said that the labyrinth became haunted by a demon. Sent there by Rakka to punish the unbelievers, or so claim the Fists of Rakka."