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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 1926839" data-attributes="member: 143">Chapter 292A web of shadows enveloped her.  Within that darkness ran currents of being, the warped essences of once-living things that were drawn to her, whispering secrets of lore and madness that filled her, threatened to drag her down with them.  It was only through a supreme effort of will that she remained afloat in that sea, keeping the essence of who she was, what she was, intact. The souls seemed to accommodate themselves to her presence, surrounding her, caressing the disembodied form of her spirit-self in a way that was profoundly disturbing.  She probed through the endless web, seeking the specific information that she wanted, trying to focus the disordered chaos to her need. And then, so suddenly that it sent a tremor of shock through her even through the numb reality of this place, the living black parted, thrusting her into an empty void of nullity.  In that space, vacant of anything save her own thoughts, she felt a brief flare of panic.  Was she trapped here?  No... she could feel the slender thread that connected her to the other reality, the place where her body waited, along with her friends...Then she realized that she was not alone.  There was a presence here, surrounding her... belatedly she realized that all of this, the gray emptiness, it was this... what?  She could not put it into mundane words of description.  But this was what she had been seeking, she knew.  Now that she had attuned herself to it, she could sense the currents of power here.  Tenuously, she extended a probe to meet it. Awareness exploded through her... too much... she could not contain it, and she drew back, her consciousness threatening to come apart under the barrage.  Conscious though was driven away by it, and that part of her that was still Izandra... clung desperately to the slender lifeline back, buffeted mercilessly by the sudden storm.  There was no gravity in this place, no “down”, yet she knew she was falling...falling...Zenna’s eyes popped open to reveal the familiar outlines of her room.  The only sound was the hard rasp of her breathing, her heart slamming like a hammer inside her chest.  She instantly realized that the experience had been a dream, another reflection of what had happened back in Karran-Kural...She knew from experience that she would not be able to sleep more than night, so she got up, pulling a light robe from the bedpost to wrap around her slender frame.  It was the deep of the night, and even the mundane sounds of the predawn hours in Cauldron that drifted in through the open window were muted.  It was as if the entire city was wrapped in an enfolding blanket, collectively waiting for the return of the light to stir.  Mole’s bed was vacant; not a surprise.  The gnome’s curiosity was insatiable, and she saw sleep as an unfortunate necessity, when there were new things waiting to be discovered.  She’d spent a fair amount of time with Dannel pursuing leads in the city, and Zenna suspected that not a good percentage of that time was spent dealing with less-than-savory figures, courting danger.  That was just the way she was, and the fact that people still wanted them dead—and others who didn’t fit into the category of “people” as well—could not change that. She looked at the books lying upon her desk, but did not go to them.  She just sat there, on the edge of the bed, staring out in the darkness that held no secrets for her.  Unlike the world outside that door, she thought.  They’d taken a victory with them from Karran-Kural, but more, too.  Zenna’s power had continued to grow, opening up new valences of both arcane and divine power.  Even though she’d long sought exactly that, she was surprised at the speed with which she was rising, and in times of introspection felt far, far older than her still-youthful body belied.  But introspection was also a rare thing of late, as events continued to surge forward at a desperate rate. Cauldron was under siege.  There were no armies of men, no beasts in the jungles threatening, but the danger was there nonetheless.  The knowledge they’d brought back was vague, fragmentary; the scrolls of the evidently mad wizard Abradius, the scraps that Zenna had been able to delve from her brief communion with the Soul Pillars.  Perhaps if she returned, spent more time delving into those secrets, they could connect more of the pieces... but even that brief communion had been enough to show her that the end of that road was insanity...They’d sealed Karran-Kural behind them as best they could.  Shensen’s druidic powers might have been able to do a better job of it, but the fact was that they’d really lacked the power to destroy the pillars themselves.  But from what she’d learned, the Cagewrights had already gotten what they needed from the ancient citadel.  The Cages.  They were key, though they did not know exactly how, of yet.  The Shackleborn.  Another term without meaning, a scrap of knowledge, the piece of a jigsaw puzzle where they did not even know the shape of the final design.  One thing, however, was clear, at least to Zenna; she felt it to the core of her being. The plans of the Cagewrights would involve the utter transformation of Cauldron, and everyone in it. And somehow, it was up to them to stop it.  Something came together in her thoughts.  Rising from the bed, she crossed to the table where she’d left her things.  She dressed quickly, needing no light to find every item in her inventory, to verify that every pouch, every scroll, every wand was in its proper place.  Once readied she turned to the books, and slid them into their proper places in the light pack that she wore under her cloak.  The cloak came last, falling off her shoulders around her body like a black shroud. Only then, when fully prepared, did she hesitate.  Finally she turned to the desk, and taking a quill and a small fragment of parchment she quickly scribed a note, folding the message over to write Mole’s name on the back of the paper.  She slid the note under the edge of the inkwell to hold it shut, and then stepped back, straightening.  She took a deep breath.  A tiny whisper in her mind told her that this was foolish.  But if there was ever a time for precipitous action, this was it. She spoke a brief incantation, and vanished from her room, and from Cauldron. THE END OF “SECRETS OF THE SOUL PILLARS”COMING SOON: LORDS OF OBLIVION* * * * * Happy holidays to all my readers, and thanks for your feedback! While I'm well ahead in the story right now, I'm going to take a break over the holidays as my wife and I do some traveling. I'll start posting Book VII around New Year's.</blockquote>

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