Had William really seen that girl? The question beset him as he and Felix entered the woods. Indeed, they had not seemed natural to her. Such thoughts departed soon, though. They were in a hurry to escape the smoke rising behind them with all due haste. Memories of her beauty were on him, but he was more concerned about the green trees around them. More importantly, how they seemed to grasp for them.

Once or twice, he saw torches in the distance and howls of rage from the satyrs.

The landscape changed, however, as they got further out. There was no stumbling over roots or ducking below clawing tree limbs now. Instead, they moved with astonishing speed. William felt almost as though he was a wind passing through the trees. His feet didn't seem to touch the ground once. His pains and aches, he realized, were gone. When he looked at his hands, the cuts had disappeared. It was a minor miracle in a day filled with them.

He looked at Felix as they moved. "Felix, remind me to erect a shrine to Kiyora when we return home."

"Why?" asked Felix.

"Isn't it obvious?" asked William. "She is some spirit or deity. I have to repay the debt, even if Elranor was the one who sent her." And he wouldn't mind looking at her again.

"All right," said Felix, "I won't let you forget."

They came out of the trees and found themselves on the bank of a river. The same river William had seen on many maps but had yet to honestly know how large it was. It stretched a considerable distance across. He knew at once that crossing it would be a challenging feat.

Yet size didn't matter much to him as he and Felix went down to the banks and drank. The water was heavenly on William's lips, and he thought nothing would ever be as good. When their thirst had been quenched, they immersed themselves in the shallows. They washed the dirt and grime that had covered them from their bodies.

Finally, they waded out, dripping wet. William felt very foolish as he tried to get some of it out of his hair. Felix did not even bother, his red eyes peering carefully at the water. "We should keep moving, Felix; the satyrs will come after us sooner or later."

"Which way?" asked Felix.

"This river is called Savior's Run," said William. "I'm not sure why it is named so, some local legend, I think. It runs through the center of Seathorius. Then it heads through the elven reservations and Antion into the Ghost Mountains. If we follow it north, we should be able to find the shore. From there, we might create another campfire and hope for rescue."

"Or wait to be recaptured," said Felix. "What are our other options?"

William considered the question. "Kiyora said there are dwarven settlements along the other side of the river. If they aren't friends of the satyrs, we might find shelter with them. Provided we can find a crossing place, of course."

"So we can head north and hope to find the shore and a crossing," said Felix. "Which way is north?"

William looked around silently. "I have no idea."

"Fine," said Felix, "pick left or right, and we'll go that way."

"Right," said William before beginning to walk.

Their going along the river was easier than before. It's too easy for William's liking, actually. The once hostile lands now seemed to conspire to aid them. He felt like some power was flowing through him and Felix, driving them on to swift progress. He began to suspect that it had much to do with Kiyora.

They came to a place where the water was far lower so that they could see the stones of the riverbed. On the far side of the river was a watchtower. It was built in front of a hill with an exposed rock side. A dwarf was perched on it, holding a bow and scanning the surrounding area. A dwarf boy was sitting at the tower's base, and he looked up with interest. As they approached, the archer notched an arrow.

"Halt!" he barked. "Who goes there?! Stand and give an account of yourself!"

William stopped at the bank's edge and raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "I am William Gabriel, son of Duke Vanion Gabriel. My companion and I washed ashore and were captured by satyrs. We escaped captivity and now seek shelter. Will you aid us?"

"That isn't my decision to make." called the lookout. "Cross the river and wait by the tower. Gunthred, go get Bjorn, will you?"

"Yes, uncle," said the boy before scampering off. He disappeared into the side of the hill. Where had he gone? He was there one moment and was gone the next. It must have been magic, but what type?

"Come, Felix," said William. "I'll be glad to get onto the other side."

"Fine," said Felix, "let's go."

The two of them waded into the water tentatively. It was more profound than it had looked and soon reached up to their waists. It got higher still as they went on, and soon it reached William's neck. The water was cold, and the current against him was more challenging to fight against. Finally, looking at his friend, William realized it had reached Felix's chin. They moved slowly, trying to stay on their feet with the current working against them.

A loose stone gave way beneath William's foot, and he fell forward to splash into the water. He was struggling beneath the surface in the river's icy cold for a moment. Then he emerged from it, only to find himself being dragged downstream. Fighting to stay above the waterline, William saw the lookout coming to the edge of the bank with a rope. It was hurled into the water.

"Grab hold!" cried the dwarf.

William swam against the current as best he could and snatched for it. But, unfortunately, it slipped past his fingers. He beat his way forward furiously before grabbing it with one hand. Then, pulling himself ahead, he got back onto the ford and made his way along. Felix came up behind him and grasped the rope. Soon, the two of them reached the edge of the river. They emerged soaked and dripping wet, and William found himself shivering.

"Are you all right?" asked the dwarf.

For a moment, William could not speak. "Fine..." he gasped at last. "Thanks to you."

There was a familiar hollering, and William looked up. On the far side of the river stood Doltier, and with him were many other satyrs. Suddenly, there was a horrific presence in the air. The same shadow that William had seen on the ship passed overhead. The waters began to lower down to ankle height. The satyrs moved forward with a terrible battle cry. They waved their weapons as they charged forward.

Then came the dwarves out of the side of the hill, carrying bows and arrows and clad in leather armor with skull caps. They formed ranks, and one shot an arrow straight past Doltier's ear. Or at least it would have had Doltier not caught the needle in one hand and snapped it between his fingers. Even so, he called his warriors to a halt.

There was a tense silence between them. Then, finally, Doltier snarled something in the satyr's tongue. An immense dwarf with braided white hair and a bald head came forward. He was clad in hide leather and had a sword at his belt with a cloak all around him. He shouted something back in a hoarse, old voice. Doltier waved his scimitar. The dwarf motioned to his archers while responding sternly.

The conversation went on for some time. Eventually, Doltier lowered his weapon. The satyr motioned to his fellows, and they withdrew back into the woods. There was a long silence as the dwarves began to discuss matters among themselves. William sneezed while they were doing it, and they all looked up, startled.

The dwarf who had spoken with the satyr came forward. "The satyrs and we have a truce. They have agreed not to pursue you so long as you remain with us."

William breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. We saw seven of your people slain and devoured by those creatures and were afraid they would do the same to us."

"Seven?" asked the dwarf. "What was-" he trailed off as he looked at William. He felt suddenly as if his entire being was being gazed through.

"You are blessed by Queen Yagos. I am sure of it. But, something about your eyes," He turned to Felix. "And you, you have seen her as well, yet I sense the darkness in you. The touch of a demon is on you."

William looked up at Felix in shock. "What is he talking about, Felix?"

"I'm a Calishan," said Felix with a shrug. "My people worship a demon god. We make temples for his children. There has been a lot of intermingling."

"Yes." said the dwarf. "I can see it. You have in you the blood of Baltoth."

"What?" asked William, hardly able to believe it.

"I am Bjorn Houndslasher," said the dwarf. "High Priest of Queen Yagos. You are both more than welcome to share our table as honored guests. We are holding a great celebration once we honor some of our elders' ascension. Thus-"

William sneezed again.

"-I am certain I could arrange for you to be clothed in dry garments first, of course," said Bjorn. "Men, stand watch and be on the lookout for any more satyrs. You two follow me."

Bjorn led them to the side of the hill and tapped one hand against it. There was a strange sensation as if a gateway was opening, yet William could see nothing that had changed. Then Bjorn motioned to them and passed through the wall.

William looked to Felix. "Do you think it is an illusion?"

"That seems quite likely," said Felix before stepping forward and passing through.

William sneezed again and followed Felix. There was an odd sensation. William felt as though he was passing through something physical. This was no ordinary illusion. There seemed to be an unnatural substance on the walls he was walking through.

He emerged into a dimly lit hall built inside the hill. It was toasty warm within, and the heat was a welcome relief. There were ten stone pillars in a circle. Around them was a series of fires on which many dwarves were cooking. There were boars and rabbits and various birds. The smell alone made William's mouth water. For a moment, he completely forgot everything else.

"Those roots," said Felix, "come from the tree above this place, don't they?"

William looked up and saw that the ends of many roots were all over the top of the ceiling. In addition, there were several holes that the smoke from the fire was coming out of.

"Yes," said Bjorn, straightening out his gloves. "That tree is always above this hall, wherever Seathorius shifts us. It was planted by Queen Yagos herself long ago. Stay right here a moment." He approached a female dwarf with a round face and hair tied over her head. "Moira, I know you are grieving; however, I must set you a task. These two need clothing, and if they do not change out of their clothes, they may catch their death."

The woman did not answer for a moment, her eyes spaced out. Then she jumped. "I will get some for them at once, Master Bjorn," said Moira, bowing low before rushing off.

Bjorn came up to them. "One of my servants. She is not of the Nakmar; we freed her from a satyr prison some years ago. She was close to some of those who ascended yesterday."

"What do you mean by ascended?" asked William.

"I mean, they passed beyond the dream," said Bjorn.

"... I'm not sure I understand," said William.

"Right, you are outlanders," muttered Bjorn. "I believe in outside realms; it is known as death. Mara is from the outside and never fully understood the truth."

"What truth?" asked William.

"Strangely, one blessed by Yagos should know so little of her teachings," said Bjorn. "The Dreaming Goddess teaches us that this world, as we know it, is but a passing dream. A fantasy of sorts conjured up by the minds of greater beings, soon to end and be forgotten. It is no more real for those we call gods than a tale of old legends is for us. Those who die in battle are reborn within the dream. Those who die peacefully pass on and are made real within the true world."

"I see," said William.

After a time, Moira returned with two sets of folded clothes. "These are all I could find at short notice. They were made for some of our slimmer warriors. They might be..." She sniffed. "They may be a bit big."

"Thank you," said William, taking them.

As it turned out, the clothes were rather loose around them, and William needed a belt to make them fit. Even so, getting out of the wet and clinging garments felt heavenly. He looked at his once beautiful clothes somewhat sadly. They were ragged and travel-worn and smelled of mildew. He doubted they would ever be of any use again.

He still sneezed occasionally and began feeling more than a little sick.

Felix's clothes fit him even less, for he was thinner than William by a large margin. Bjorn looked over them. "Well, it is the best that can be managed. All is prepared, and we are to give the bodies of our brothers their last rites now. Will you attend?"

William did not want to. However, neither did he want to offend. "We will."