Eowyna had returned to the forest of Spirituality in Ilshenar. She knew he wasn't here, but the pool was. When all else failed her, this pool of still water never had--especially when she was seeking Maddux. They had shared its water so often that the pool knew them well. It wouldn't fail her this time... it couldn't.

Dusk was falling, and she had just travelled through the ether, so she felt safe for a little while. But she wasted no time and went straight to the pool south of Twin Oaks Tavern. She knelt at the edge of this pond once more, but instead of peace there was the whistling flutter of many tiny wings, and about her head dozens of pixies flitted excitedly about twittering in their chiming little voices. She tried to ignore them and concentrate upon calling a vision to the surface of the water, but all she saw was the reflection of all these pesky pixies! Eowyna looked up and frowned, waving her hand to gently shoo them away. But her attention, seemed to excite them further. There was a veritable cacaphony of piping voices and they dipped and fluttered toward the surface of the pool. In the distance she heard the mournful sound of a howling wolf... but not in the distance--far, yet at hand. And then it dawned. The pixes knew something, and she looked down again at the surface of the pool.

Yes, pixies reflected, but something else, deeper into the reflecting pond. A single pixie, and a lone wolf, his cry piercing the loneliness of twilight. And an ankh, stained by blood, blood flowing onto the carving of a teardrop--a shrine to sacrifice, surrounded by barren trees and scattered pelvic bones--and, a single pixie. Eowyna offered up a prayer to Fenmarel, relief--she knew where to go. A thank you to the god of outcasts and a vow to the pixies to destroy every pixie swatter she ever came across.

"Vas Rel Por" she stepped through the red gate and emerged in Felucca at the Shrine of Sacrifice. There, the pixie, Arielle hovering over the broken body of Maddux, casting little healing spells. Eowyna sank down beside him. He lived, but he was greivously injured. Probably Arielle and her continual small heals were all that had kept him alive. She began to sing the healing songs of the elves. More magic was needed here than simple healing. The song would take some time and even then it would be many days before he healed completely.

She never thought, her attention never waivered from her task. The song was everything. So she never noticed, never heard their approach. Arielle flittered away, escaping evil, and still Eowyna never looked up. Three riders converged upon the shrine, shrouded in black.