“Who?” Katja asked, puzzled.

“Friend of mine from way back,” Gell replied. “He’ll be able to tell us more about this Hand thing supposedly has Sarai’s little brother.”

“I find it hard to believe that anybody in a backwater dump like this could know anything about… well, anything, really.”

Katja was being altogether too kind in her assessment of Grady’s Quay. It was the po-dunkest of podunk fishing towns, insular and isolated from the rest of the world, its few residents without knowledge or care about the troubles of the outside world. Trade and cultural exchange were virtual unknowns here, and it wasn’t at all clear that anybody living here could have any useful information of any sort, unless one wanted to know about his last lay or his next drink.

“Well, I like it. I think it’s charming and rustic!” piped up a chipper little voice.

“Sarai, you’re supposed to be hidden. These folks get an eyeful o’ you, there’s gonna be trouble. They don’t take to that sort of thing, you catch my meaning.”

“Oh, Gell, relax. Like I said, you’re the only one who can see me. It’ll be fine.”

“You never said that, darlin’.”

“Oh, didn’t I? Well, I meant to. You’re the only one who can see me or hear me.”

“I can see you,” Katja corrected her, prompting the wordling to sigh in exaggerated exasperation.

“Yes, well. When I say that Gell’s the only one who can see me, perhaps I don’t mean that exactly literally. So let’s just say that people can’t see me unless I want them to and leave it at that, okay?”

Gell chuckled quietly to himself. “Like I said before — and this I do believe I did say — you are off your chump, woman. But I reckon we shouldn’t chat so much; we’re gettin’ some funny looks already.”

And they were. Gell’s assessment of the villagers was apparently on the mark — whatever odd sort of thing you happen to be doing, they don’t take to it. Right at this moment, they weren’t taking to the animated conversation the two strangers were having with each other, and, apparently, with a nonexistent third party. Likely the only things preventing the party from being rudely ejected from town were Gell’s size and sword. They may not like these travelers in their midst, but, so far, none of the people were bold or drunk enough to tangle with anybody so obviously dangerous, and our heroes were able to proceed largely unmolested.

“So where are we going, anyhow?” Katja asked, more subdued.

“Right here,” Gell responded cheerily.

Katja was rather taken aback. “Here” was just another crude straw shanty like any of the others, its flimsy thatched roof barely holding itself together. A hand-painted wooden sign hung on the door read:

R. Thierry, Village Wizard.
If you have business, please knock.
If you have no business, please go away.

NO DELIVERIES BEFORE 10 O’CLOCK

Reading the sign, Katja was taken even farther aback. “A wizard? Seriously? I thought you hated wizards.”

“I do. Well, most of ’em, anyways. This one and I… we got an understandin’. Had a bit of a go-round back when we were younger, and made us a kind of a deal. He promised me he wouldn’t use his powers to hurt anybody — he’d just be the helpful kind o’ wizard tells you where you left your hat and things — and I promised him I wouldn’t use my powers to hurt him. Mutually beneficial, like. ‘Course, we both know it’s gonna happen sooner or later anyhow.”

“What? Why? You can’t just live and let live?”

“Wish I could, darlin’. I honestly do. But it don’t work that way with mages.”

“Well, why not? Maybe this one’s different.”

Gell honestly looked melancholy. “He’s not, Katja. I wish he were. But you remember Joachim? Fought him in the cave way back, before I did that mage a number and busted open the word stone.”

“No, I wasn’t there.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t you bullshit me. Only way you coulda been caught up front of the cave like you were is if you were sneakin’ around through the line while I was fightin’ Joachim.” Katja’s eyes lit up, and she began to look a bit like a frightened child who’d just been caught sneaking out of the house after bedtime. “Oh, don’t get that look. Ain’t like I don’t already know you’re a thief. Hain’t bothered me yet, but I promise,” he grinned, “I’ll let you know if it ever does.”

A wave of palpable relief washed over Katja’s face. Gell found it slightly odd that she’d get so worked up over something so minor, but, he figured, women can be mighty strange sometimes. He continued with his narrative unabated. “Anyways, that thing, Joachim, was what’s called a ‘primal.’ It’s sort of the end-product of a mage, life-wise. Sooner or later, the mage dies for one reason or another — killed in battle, maybe, or in an accident, or maybe just finally loses his struggle with bein’ really old for a really long time. But ain’t no mage yet come up with a way to keep from dyin’ forever, and, when they do, they leave behind all that animus they been usin’ for power. And a body. You can figure it out from here, I reckon.”

“So primals are just the bodies and powers of mages, but without the mind?”

“Yeah, that’s one way of lookin’ at it.”

“And that happens to all mages? Always?”

“Every one. Well, almost. Sometimes a mage dies in a fashion where he don’t leave no body behind, like say he gets burned to death by an angry mob. Then the animus just possesses some nearby object and you get a curse, like we dealt with a while back. Or, if the mage is really powerful, the animus maybe just does its own thing without being bound to an object at all. That’s where elementals come from. But any way you slice it, it’s bad news. So, sooner or later, I’m gonna have to kill him. Or at least what’s left of him.”

Katja was lost in thought. She looked sad and confused, and Gell decided it was time to change the subject. “But, hey, enough of this morbid stuff. That’s way far away yet, and we’re all still livin’ for now, and I aim to keep it that way.” With that, he grabbed Katja’s hand and knocked on the door.

And they vanished into thin air.

“Where are we?” Katja was stunned.

“You,” boomed an imperial voice, “are in my personal receiving room. You did knock on my personal door, did you not?”

Katja looked around for the source of the voice; it turned out to be rather difficult to miss. The room they were standing in was tremendous — far bigger than the hut they were looking at before. It appeared to be octagonal, and was mostly made of some type of muted green crystal. The floor was of white tiles inlaid with gold, and the ceiling was a giant vaulted affair set with stained-glass windows depicting assorted mythical creatures engaging in assorted acts of debauchery. This ceiling was supported by eight tremendous marble columns entwined with what appeared to be green crystal in the form of ivy, occasionally blooming with amethyst blossoms. Behind where they were standing was an archway filled with a swirling nothingness, and ahead of them was a gigantic, regal stair proceeding up to a presumed second floor, though it was so far away not much detail could be made out. The stair was flanked on either side with plush violet curtains, and the centre of it was dominated by an enormous apparition in the shape of a human-like face.

It was this face that had addressed them when they entered. Fully the height of three men, endowed with a powerfully angry disposition and a nasty habit of snorting wisps of smoke when not speaking — as though to give the impression that one was at risk of being blasted with a sheet of flame should one become impertinent — the face had a bearing at once human-like and wholly other, as though the mage’s very existence defied comprehension. Katja was overwhelmed by the scene, and couldn’t decide if she should flee through the portal, prostrate herself and beg forgiveness, or just scream. All three options seemed equally terrifying.

“Okay, Thierry, that’s enough,” Gell admonished. “You’ve scared the poor girl near out of her wits, so I reckon we can get down to business now, yeah?”

“Gell!” the face boomed, contorting angrily and flaring its nostrils as though that blast of fire would be joining them any moment now. “You dare! You have the insolence to address me in such fashion!”

Gell was unmoving.

Suddenly the face abandoned its angry pose and became downcast. “Oh, you’re no fun anymore,” it echoed, and slowly disappeared.

The curtains to the left of the staircase parted, and out walked a tall, older man with a long white mustache and a rather spartan green robe. On his face sat a pair of small silver pince-nez, and a grubby looking nub of charcoal was tucked behind his left ear. “Well,” he said, “if you won’t let me have my fun, I guess I may as well come see what you’re after. Oh, how rude of me!” He bowed deeply before the bedazzled Katja. “I am the wizard Thierry, at your service, my lady.”

“This is Katja,” Gell provided helpfully, “my travelling companion.”

“It is truly a pleasure to meet you. And the fairy? What might her name be?”

“Hey!” Sarai blurted, “you aren’t supposed to be able to see me, old man. Only Gell can see me! That’s the rules!”

Thierry laughed. “You don’t get to be as old as I am without learning a thing or two about the world, young lady. Very much including how to see things that don’t wish to be seen.”

“This is Sarai,” Gell assisted, “but she ain’t a fairy. She’s a wordling.”

“A what? Impossible!” Now it was Thierry’s turn to be stunned.

“Well, now I reckon you understand I ain’t just here for a social call. Somethin’ big’s goin’ down, and I need your help figurin’ it all out.”

“Tell me everything you know.”

And so Gell told him; told him about the atifacting expedition and the discovery of the word stone, about the attack by the College of One and the breaking of the stone, about the search for additional stones, about the cursed tower, and about the mysterious assailant Crimson. Throughout, Thierry furrowed his brow and looked for all the world like he was deeply troubled by the entire affair. When Gell finished, Thierry cleared his throat and said, sheepishly: “So, you’ve pissed off the College, have you?”

“Yeah, they reckon I owe ’em somethin’, what for taking Sarai and killin’ one of them mages.”

“That makes things… uncomfortable, Gell. If you understand my meaning.”

“What? Come on, Thierry, you ain’t gone and joined ’em, have you?”

“You don’t understand what it’s like out here, Gell!” the mage exploded, emptying himself of what appeared to be years of frustration, “I’m stuck in this podunk village with no contacts and no support at all. What was I supposed to do? I suppose you’d have done something different in my situation, Mr. Holier-than-thou Puritan.”

“Whoa, now, calm down. What situation? What happened?”

Thierry sighed. “The College is… powerful. Very powerful. And like all men with power, they’re a damned racket. They made me an offer: I could agree to provide them with intelligence — tell them anything of interest that happened in my purview — and, in return, they would allow me to retain the use of all of my appendages. I had nowhere to turn for help, Gell, and I have grown rather fond of my appendages, so there really wasn’t anything I could do.”

“You ain’t gonna rat on me, Thierry. Come on.”

“No, Gell, I’m not going to… ‘rat’ on you. I couldn’t do that. But you have to understand: I can’t give you any help against the College. Not directly. Hell, if they find out I spoke to you and didn’t report it, well, it would be the last you’d ever see of me.”

“So is there anything you can tell me ’bout this ‘Hand’ thing? Like, anything at all?”

“Hmm. Perhaps… but there’s a bit of a snag, Gell.”

“Seems like we’re up to our ears in snags these days.”

“I do possess a tome detailing cults and secret societies, and I rather suspect your ‘Hand’ can be found somewhere in its pages. But it’s in the library, and my library is in… disarray. So if you could retrieve it for me, I would be most happy to tell you what I can.”

“That’s it? I just gotta clean up your books?”

“Well, see, Gell, when a wizard’s library is in disarray, that doesn’t exactly mean the books didn’t get put back in order. It means there’s some kind of… problem. Some kind of serious, magical problem.”

“Quit beatin’ ’round the bush. Just tell me what’s up.”

“It’s like this. My library of late is haunted by a free-roaming elemental. I can’t get in, so I can’t get to my books. It’s a nightmare.”

“An elemental? How’d that thing get in there?”

“I don’t know. Either I came into possession of a cursed tome some time ago, or — which I think rather more likely — the College sent it as a warning. An example of what could happen if I don’t play by the rules.”

“You can’t handle it yourself?”

“No, it is rather more powerful than I — per our… arrangement, combat is not a particular specialty of mine. But this is right up your alley, Gell, is it not? So this is my proposal: you destroy the elemental, and I will help you in any way I can, pursuant to the limitations placed upon me by my forced association with the College. Do we have a deal?”

Gell grinned widely. “Reckon so. Point me to the thing, and I’ll chop it up somethin’ fierce.”

Thierry waved his left arm theatrically, and a doorway appeared in the open air. Gell strode toward it, and then turned to Katja. “You better wait here, darlin’. Ain’t much you could do to an elemental, and I don’t want you should get hurt.”

“No,” she said, resolutely, “I’m going. This won’t be the last one of these we need to deal with, so I may as well learn how to handle them now.”

Gell smiled, said nothing, and stepped through the portal.

The mage’s library was a truly otherworldly place. On the one hand, it appeared perfectly normal; it was a room of grey stones and wooden fixtures, and not the outlandish marble and crystal and gold of the receiving room. But, though the materials may have been ordinary, the overall effect was anything but — the room appeared to be of impossible size, extending off in every direction well farther than even Gell’s eyes could follow, and the various shelves and ladders and scaffoldings were arranged in shapes that could not possibly be.

“Ooo, what fun!” Sarai exclaimed. “Hey Gell, watch this!” She darted off at full speed down one of the corridors of the library. Gell peered after her, but she disappeared from view before very long. He stood, wondering if he could chase after her, when, suddenly, something impacted him solidly in the back, causing him to lurch forward. Whatever it was, it wasn’t very large — but it was apparently giggling.

“You see?” Sarai said, still laughing, “This is great!”

“Wait, Sarai –” Gell began, but not in time. She zipped off down a hallway again. Prepared for her this time, Gell turned to face the opposite hall, and was just in time to see the wordling charging along toward him. He held out his hand and caught her this time. “So what? You’re just flyin’ around like a maniac, crashin’ into people? That ain’t so special.”

“No, Gell, what’s special is that I’m going in a straight line. I go down this hallway, and I come back along that one!”

“That don’t make no sense. How can you get behind me without turnin’?”

“It’s this place — it’s a toroidal space. It’s neat!”

“A what now? Torawhosit?”

“Toroidal. You know, like a torus? (√ x²+y² – R)² + z² = r²? No?”

“Katja, you got any idea what she’s on about?”

“I think what she’s saying is that this space we’re in isn’t normal. Somehow it curves — it doesn’t really go on forever the way it looks, because sooner or later you end up back where you started.”

“Well, I reckon that’s fine and dandy. What’s it got to do with anything?”

Just then, there was a loud crash and a roar that seemed half like the noise of a hurricane and half like an inhuman shriek. Saturnine was in Gell’s hand in the blink of an eye, and the Puritan quickly began to scan the limits of his vision. He could see nothing, and the sound seemed to be coming from all directions at once.

“Of course,” Sarai continued, as though she had been saying something, “sound is also going to be weird here. Just like I can go off in front of you and end up behind you, so can sounds.”

Gell, frustrated, closed his eyes in an attempt to feel his target out through the flow. This was not a resounding success; the flow was compelte chaos. Disgusted, he opened his eyes again and harrumphed mightily. Sarai responded, even though Gell decided against saying anything.

“I know, Gell. It’s been giving me a headache since we got here. It’s a wizard’s library inside a magical space — the flow is filled with noise.”

“Well, if we can’t see it in the flow, and we can’t sound the damn thing out, how do you reckon on tracking down this elemental?”

“I think…” Katja said, slowly, “I think we can sound it out after all, but not by searching for big crashes. Be really quiet. Do you hear that?”

Gell and Sarai strained their ears, but to no avail. “Darlin’,” Gell eventually complained, “I don’t hear a damn thing. Mind givin’ me a hint or two?”

“It’s a very faint humming sound. And it’s moving. I think our friend the elemental is leaving us a trail.”

“Well, I don’t hear anything,” Sarai blurted.

“Follow me,” Katja whispered, and began to creep down one of the aisles. Slowly, Gell and Sarai followed behind her, looking up at the endless towers of tomes, wondering what kind of arcane mysteries they might contain. As they made their way down the corridor, Gell became conscious of an increasing disorder present in the meticulously organised shelves; books had been pulled out, thrown on the floor, placed back upside-down or backwards, in some cases even torn apart. They were clearly drawing closer to their prey.

Suddenly, Gell began to notice a deep throbbing noise rippling through the stacks. It was very low, just at the edge of human hearing, and not very loud, but it appeared to be everywhere all around him. “Katja,” he whispered, “I think I can hear your hum you were talkin’ about.”

“I hear it too!” Sarai beamed. “But it’s all around us! How can we follow it?”

“It’s stronger in one direction than in the others,” Katja replied. “That’s the most direct way there.”

Gell concentrated on the noise, trying to pin down the one direction in which the hum was loudest, but it was a futile endeavour. Katja seemed more than equal to the task, however, and her progress never wavered as she stalked along the pathways of shelves. As they continued, the devastation increased — Gell noted many shelves that had been stripped bare of their contents, some that were tipped over, and some even that were destroyed entirely. He knelt at one such bookcase, examining the charred remains of the shelf and its contents.

“It’s still warm,” he observed. “Ain’t been long since this happened. Might be the big crash we all heard. Thing should be close, so everybody be careful.”

Katja continued to lead them along destroyed corridor after destroyed corridor, until, at last, they found themselves in what looked like a reading room. It was octagonal, six walls lined with the same seemingly-endless bookshelves the corridors contained, the other two dominated by huge arched doorways leading in and out along the library. In the centre of the room were several armchairs and a luxurious plush sofa all flanking a low, broad table, upon which were two potted ferns and a small spread of glossy, soft-covered books. This room appeared to be untouched by the destructive force that had been sweeping through the library, and Gell found this quite disconcerting.

“What happened, Katja? We take a wrong turn?”

She looked confused. “No, we went the right way. I’m sure of it. Whatever we were following led right here. But… well, maybe it wasn’t the elemental I was hearing after all. Maybe it was something else.”

Gell concentrated again on the humming. It was very powerful now, but he still couldn’t tell what direction it was coming from.

“As far as I can tell,” Katja said, dejectedly, “whatever’s making that noise is in this room. It leads straight here. But I don’t see anything.”

Gell peered into the flow, but it was the same chaotic mess it had been since they entered. Sarai, meanwhile, floated over to the sofa and flopped down on it.

“Ooo, this is really comfy. May as well get off our feet while we figure out our next move.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Katja agreed, sitting down next to her. Idly, she picked up one of the small books from the table and began flipping through it; it was filled with many pictures of astonishingly high quality, many of them of women, many of whom had very little clothing on. Katja chuckled to herself.

“So,” Sarai began, “if that idea didn’t play out, what next? That was our only lead. Gell, you can try to deny it all you want, but we just can’t track the thing through the flow.”

Gell paid no attention to her, and persisted in attempting to track the thing through the flow. Gradually, he became aware of an anomaly — a repeated pattern that he could just pick out among the noise and the chaos. Turning around, he searched for it, and slowly realised that it was —

“Move!” He yelled, “get off the sofa!”

But he was a moment too late. The sofa exploded in all directions, and a malign force rose up through the cloud of debris. It was vaguely man-shaped for the moment, and looked like nothing so much as a shadow, or perhaps a ripple; nothing that was solid, in any event, and nothing that should be real. The shape grasped Sarai and Katja in what passed for its hands, and slowly grew taller and taller, larger and larger, until it towered over Gell. A sound emanated from it — something resembling a cold, rumbling laugh, but lacking in any mirth or humanity. It was a dead, spiteful laugh.

Gell gripped Saturnine tightly, but didn’t make a move; he couldn’t attack while Sarai and Katja were captive. But how to free them? He racked his brain for the solution to this puzzle, but the creature was not about to allow him the luxury of time. A huge blast of raw magical energy surged from the shape toward the Puritan, who barely had time to raise Saturnine for deflection. The blast was not terribly powerful, and, once he was in position, it was not difficult for him to throw it away from himself and escape unharmed. It’s underestimated me, he thought, and I need to figure this out before it figures me out. But how?

Then he saw it — the one opening, the one weakness for him to exploit. Executing the nullification sign, he launched himself suddenly toward the hand holding Sarai in its grasp. As he anticipated, the elemental manoeuvred its captive directly in its path in an attempt to force him away. But Gell did not hesitate, swinging Saturnine sharply around and directly toward the wordling.

Sarai disappeared suddenly, and Gell’s path was now unobstructed. But he had underestimated the elemental’s speed, and it was able to dissolve that part of its being before his blade could strike, reforming on the other side of its remaining prisoner. Gell crashed to the floor, and quickly sprang to his feet.

“Phooey,” Sarai spit, “how did it dodge that? That was our only chance, too.”

“It ain’t over yet, darlin’.”

And it wasn’t, but Gell was having a hard time coming up with a new plan. The creature now held Katja in suspension directly in its centre, and was flowing out around her in all directions, grabbing up various objects around the room in its numberless tendrils. Then it went back on the offensive, throwing books and chairs and fragments of the demolished sofa at our heroes. Sarai vanished with a quick shriek to avoid any complications involving heavy flying objects, but vanishing was not in Gell’s skill set, and he was left to dodge them the hard way, swatting at the smaller objects and leaping out of the path of the larger ones.

Realising that he was getting noplace fast, Gell quickly came up with a new plan. Whirling Saturnine through the sign of Blasting, he leapt straight up into the air, and swung the sword around behind him, directly into the wall. The sign detonated, and the force of the explosion rendered a large subsection of the wall into a pile of timber and gravel. On the other side of that force, Gell was propelled like a rocket straight toward the startled elemental. Fast though it was, it lacked the time to react, and the flying Puritan snapped at one of its tendrils with the black blade of Nullification.

The familiar howl echoed throughout the chamber, as the elemental was slowly, irresistibly drawn in toward the blade. But it was not about to give up so easily. One of the farthest tendrils of the beast snatched up a fallen timber from the wall segment, and swiftly hurled it at Gell. Unable to dodge in his present condition, Gell was struck hard by the beam, and fell to the floor, the sign dissipating before the elemental could be fully destroyed. Dragging himself back to his feet, Gell reoriented himself; his right side throbbed with the force of impact, but it wouldn’t be enough to keep him out of the fight.

The elemental, its power greatly diminished, then hit upon a plan it was sure would succeed. Instead of expanding, as it had done in the past, it contracted itself until it was a bare envelope surrounding the captive Katja. Gell cursed — there was no way he could nullify the elemental without nullifying Katja along with it! The evil laugh resounded through the chamber again, and the shadow-cloaked Katja’s arm raised toward Gell, the flames of magic lashing out from it toward our hero. Gell was easily able to deflect them, but another volley came right behind, and he knew perfectly well that he couldn’t keep defending forever. If he didn’t come up with something, eventually he would run out of gas.

He desperately searched for an opening. Some place — some moment — where he could strike. But the elemental gave him none. It had learned its lesson, and was no longer giving him even the barest inch. Just then, Gell noticed Sarai.

When the wordling had rejoined the battle he couldn’t say, but she was now darting around on the other side of the shadow, dodging magical blasts of her own, blinking in and out and growing ever closer to the creature. Gell wondered what she was up to, but noticed that she seemed to be earning an ever-increasing share of the elemental’s attention, as the volleys launched his way were becoming more sporadic and less accurate. He also began to close in toward it. The elemental turned itself sideways, aiming one of Katja’s hands at each of them, and picking up the offense somewhat. Sarai dove down toward the floor, and Katja’s left hand followed her; it appeared as though she had nowhere left to run, when again she vanished. Barely an instant later, she reappeared above Katja’s head, and stabbed her hands suddenly downward, grabbing onto the fabric of the elemental and stretching it upward. The elemental wasn’t anticipating this, and catching it off guard in such a fashion enabled Sarai to pull up almost a foot before it began pulling backward in earnest. Sarai’s voice echoed in Gell’s mind: Now!

Gell wasted no time. The elemental was now wholly preoccupied with Sarai’s strange assault, and its reaction to the lunging Puritan was too slow. The black blade found its target flawlessly, sweeping right into the stretched portion of elemental Sarai was pulling out. This time there would be no escape for the shadow, and its unearthly shriek joined into the hellish howl of the Sign. The envelope surrounding Katja was slowly drawn up into the sword, and, finally free, she slumped onto the ground. Gell shortly followed her, falling onto one knee and puffing hard, exhausted.

“Sarai,” he stammered, “you may be off your chump, but that was a thing of beauty, darlin’. You’re a right genius. Who knew you had it in you?”

“Of course I’m a genius!” Sarai was flushed with pride.

“Gell…” Katja gasped, “I’m sorry. You were right; I should have stayed behind.”

“Nonsense,” he smiled, “we never would have found the thing elsewise.”

“But I put you in danger. I was helpless.”

“Hey, no sweat. One of these days, I reckon I’ll be helpless m’self, and I’ll be expectin’ you to bail me out, too.” He grinned, and it put her somewhat at ease.

“What I don’t understand,” Thierry was saying, “is what you mean when you say she ‘stretched’ the elemental. How does one ‘stretch’ such a thing?”

“What he means is I grabbed it like this, and I yanked on it, and it stretched out. What’s so confusing about that?”

“But an elemental is not a physical thing. You can’t just ‘grab’ it.”

“I can.”

“You’ll have to excuse the little lady,” Gell soothed, “she’s a bit odd at times. Don’t seem to realise when a thing can’t be done. And don’t always appear to play by the rules in any case.”

“Well, regardless, a deal is a deal, and I suppose I should tell you what I can.”

Thierry snapped his fingers, and a massive tome appeared suspended in the air next to his head. The pages began flipping swiftly.

“Wait just a minute,” Sarai was indignant, “you mean you could have snapped that book out here in the first place? So what was the point of all that?”

“Young lady, if I’d ‘snapped’ the book out here, as you put it, I could very well have ‘snapped’ the elemental along with it. Now do be quiet, I’m reading.”

The pages continued to flip on their own, as our heroes stood in silence. Finally, the book slammed itself shut and disappeared with a pop. “Very good,” the mage said at last. “It is my considered opinion that the organisation you are searching for is called the Cult of the Hand. Nasty bit of work — it’s a sect of religious fanatics that trains in the arts of thieving and assassination. ‘Legerdemain,’ they call it. Apparently it’s some type of near-magic, much like your signs, Gell.”

“And what’s the point? What are they fixin’ to do?”

The mage’s brow furrowed. “That I’m afraid nobody knows. All I can say for sure is that they’re very secretive, and very dangerous.”

“So far, they sound just like the Brotherhood.”

“Yes, I suppose they do,” he mused. “Nevertheless, if they’re after you, you need to be on your guard. They are known for being ruthless and fanatical, and will stop at nothing to carry out their aims. If you have something they want, I might suggest you just hand it over.”

Gell scowled. “Nah, don’t think that’s like to happen.”