And so it came to pass that Gegi left Wolves Glen Pub with a witch and a 
cultist, and traveled to learn about herself and her new world. She 
joined the Cult of Ecstasy, and was partnered with a young man named 
Sparrow, who taught her about love and trust and helped her to battle 
some of the fears that had so crippled her earlier. But more on them later.

And Garret and Astarial performed the ritual to free Chloe from the 
binding of the crystal. When the lines of power connecting her to it were 
first severed, the entire weaving fell away as if it had never been. The 
crystal remained, and was taken by Astarial to be studied.

	And Astarial ranted about how he would destroy Chloe's "father" 
for what he had done to her mind.

	Chloe looks at her feet, chewing at her lip worriedly. Timidly, 
"I wish you would not get so upset.  Tis surely... unhealthy. And 
somewhat frightening to others, as well."
	"I... am sorry if I frightened you. I did not mean to, but... I'm sorry."
	She frowns, "I find a little alarming, sir, that you, in the name 
of protecting me and my best interests, would fear hearing my opinion 
about your intentions.  I know you have a quite an advantage over me in 
years and powers, but..." She looks up at him curiously, "If I told you 
that I did not wish you to concern yourself with this matter, or if I 
explicitly stated that I wished my father no harm... would that affect 
your feelings or plans on the matter?"
	As Astarial speaks, almost to himself, he looks down at the 
floor. "I knew someone like you, once. Liesse Eldunar. A *good* person. 
Too good for her own good, sometimes, for she never could bring herself 
to believe in evil. Not cosmic evil, you understand, or metaphysical 
forces. No, she just wouldn't admit that some individuals are simply 
black-hearted and rotten to the core. Twisted beyond redemption, vile 
beyond words."
	"I knew her in my youth. I would have been about twenty, or 
thirty. Those were the early days of the War of Shadow, when we first 
knew of the growing evil in our midst, and fought it as best we could. 
She was betrothed at the time. To... to one I once knew."
	His voice changes, lost in his memories.
	"I remember it clearly. I had just been invested, a captain of 
the House guards. I was walking through the western gardens, looking for 
my sister... I heard a scream from close by, and ran to look for the 
source. It was a grove beyond the gardens. Through the trees, I could see 
her, Liesse, struggling with someone hooded in black. He had a barbed knife."
	"So I tried to help her... who would not have? I ran towards them 
as quickly as I could, but he must have heard me coming. He threw her 
down, stabbed with his knife. She tried to fling herself out of the way, 
but his knife caught her shoulder. I saw... I heard her cry of pain. In 
the struggle, his hood had been torn off. I saw his face..."
	"We fought. We fought until we had wounded each other a dozen 
times - I still carry the scar he gave me. When all was done, I had 
bested him, and I would have killed him on the spot."
	"But she asked me, *pleaded* with me, not to kill him. Said that 
he wasn't all bad, that he didn't deserve to die. That he might repent, 
might change. That he wouldn't harm her again, that he wouldn't come back."
	"And because she asked me, and because I was young and still a 
fool, and... well, another reason. I did not stop him. I let him live, 
allowed him to escape."
	He lifts his head and looks directly at Chloe. His expression is 
pained, and sad.
	"Three months later, we buried her. Or what was left of her, 
after he had finished. Torture, and... worse. Because I let him live."
	"I would do near anything else for you, Chloe. But do not ask me 
to do that."
	He pauses a long moment, weighing his words.
	"And do you truly think that he will just let you go - having 
seen what you have seen, knowing what you know, when his own life and 
position depend upon him keeping his secrets hidden? Having done what he 
has done? At the best you could hope for recapture, and again being 
enslaved, though this time knowingly."
	"But that is unlikely - too great a risk for him. All my 
instincts tell me one thing as truth - so long as he lives, you are 
marked for death."



And then something else happened.



The front door opens quietly, and a beautiful, middle eastern woman in 
her late twenties enters.  She's dressed in a smart black power-suit with 
shoulder pads and a a skirt, and black pumps.  Her medium-length black 
hair is braided in the back, and her bright green eyes have little black 
flecks. She moves with the unconscious grace of a trained dancer.
She stands near the door briefly, scanning the crowd, and then her eyes 
alight on Garret, who is currently sitting at a table with Rhiannon and 
Balinok.  She narrows her eyes and walks purposefully over. "Good day, 
Master Corven."  Her accent is English, and the words are clipped and 
precise.
Garret looks up at her.  A small look of surprise flits across his face 
and is gone quickly.  "Master Vachon.  What a surprise.  I thought you 
were on assignment in Chinatown?" his tone is cool and neutral.
"I was.  But recent matters have forced me to be recalled." She looks at 
Balinok and Rhiannon.  "Are you not going to introduce me?"
Garret angles his head.  "Master Kim Vachon, This is Balinok, 
Nightstalker to the Cathari, and Rhiannon of Cyrmu."
At Rhiannon's name, Vachon suddenly takes a much more intent posture, and 
scrutinizes her closely, not bothering to conceal it. "Charmed to meet 
you both." she says, slipping into an empty chair without asking if she's 
welcome.  She crosses her legs, and smiles thinly at Garret, whose face 
is carefully blank.  You could cut the tension with a knife.
Garret clasps his hands and says in the same cool, even tone, "So, Master 
Vachon.  To what do I owe this...unexpected pleasure?"
She smiles.  "So formal, Garret?  Come come, considering the...intimate 
nature of our past relationship, I think we could get along with calling 
each other on a first-name basis, Hmm?"
He stiffens and replies mechanically, "Master Corven will do."
She shrugs.  "As you will, *Master Corven*.  As I said, an urgency called 
me away from Chinatown.  It is beginning.  Voormas is making his play for 
the leadership positions of the Euthnanatos."
Garret loses his icy composure for a moment.  He leans forward, his face 
deadly serious.  "When?"
"A week ago, maybe a bit earlier.  Taktsang is dead.  Voormas has more 
support from within than the other masters ever suspected."
Garret leans backward, his face unreadable.  Moments pass.  "The council 
seat is empty."
"Yes.  Of course, Senex will be asked to fill it.  But first, he must 
reach Horizon alive."
"Senex is a wily old fox." comments Garret absently.
"Voormas is no fool." counters Vachon.  
More silence.
"That still does not tell me why you are here, Master Vachon.  Senex 
could have sent a messenger crow if he truly wished me to know."
She sighs languidly.  "Ah, Garret...excuse me, Master Corven...you always 
did cut right to the heart of the matter.  I am here because I wish to 
know which side you support.  We stand at a nexus point.  If Voormas's 
faction gains control, the Euthanatos will change forever.  We will most 
probably be cut loose from the other Traditions, at best.  At worst, it 
will be civil war.  As we speak the House of the Deathbringers is 
factionalizing.  Each and every one of us must now make the choice we 
have avoided for so long.  Do we continue with the old ways, or do we 
take the final, logical step."
Garret waves a hand angrily.  "I know all this.  And you of all people 
should know where I stand on the matter.  It is not for us to judge the 
entire world.  We work one person at a time for a reason."
Vachon rolls her eyes.  "So predictable.  you know, there are some who 
accuse you of not truly being one of us, Corven.  Always, you have 
fixated on the weaker power of life.  Always you have greived for the 
departed, instead of rejoicing when they took the final step." She leans 
forward, deadly serious.  "If you are too weak to be a deathbringer, 
Corven, then just say so.  We will gladly send you on to your next life."
"Is that a threat, Master Vachon?" says Garret quietly.
"No threat.  An offer.  Let me end it for you now, quickly."  She smiles. 
"For old time's sake."
"How kind."  the sarcasm in his voice is thick.  "Now let me tell *you* 
something, Master Vachon.  Your master is a perverted, twisted madman who 
deals with demons and worse. You would *dare* accuse me of not being true 
Euthanatos?  You have forgotten everything that we are.  Pity. 
Compassion.  Duty.  Honor.  I doubt if you even remember what those words 
mean anymore."  He clenches his teeth. "And as for sending me on, if you 
think you can do it," he smiles without a trace of mirth. "Come and get me."
She hasn't batted an eye during this little speech.  "You don't know what 
you're passing up, Garret.  The darkness is what we truly are.  It is 
where our power comes from.  We can give you things no-one else can.  We 
can give you your parents back.  We can take away your guilt.  What has 
honor gotten you?  Two parents and a lover in the grave.  A ruined lot 
where your house once stood.  A missing eye.  Seven years of loneliness." 
She leans forward, her neck arched like a snakes.  "We can give you back 
Joseph, Garret.  Or me, if that's what you want.  We could be together 
again, like we were before-"
With blinding speed, Garret's gun is out of it's holster and pointed 
right at her head, so that the metal of the barrel dimples the flesh 
between her eyes.  His remaining eye flashes, and his lips draw back from 
his teeth in a perfect grimace. "Go.  Now.  I will not fight you here.  
But this I swear before the Lords of Undoing, I will make you pay for 
what you have just said to me.  You never knew me at all, and you don't 
know me now if you think your shadows and your empty promises mean a god 
damn thing to me.  Pass Joseph's name through your mouth again, and it 
will be the death of you."
She leans back unhurredly.  "So be it, Master Corven.  We are coming for 
Senex.  Stop us, if you can." She smiles...and then she's gone, leaving 
only the faint scent of expensive perfume behind.
Garret remains frozen, his gun stull pointed at the place where she was 
sitting, teeth clenched, muscles rigid.
Rhiannon looks at the spot where she disappeared, her face losing its 
neutral expression for one of intense thought for a moment.  After a 
minute, she comes out of her study, looks at Garret, and sighs.  She 
slips an arm around him, hugging him as closely as possible while 
avoiding the gun.  
He lets out a ragged breath and lowers the gun slowly, putting it down on 
the table.  He closes his eye and leans slightly against Rhiannon.  
"I feel filthy.  The worst part of this...is that part of me wanted what 
she was offering.  Badly."
He manages to surprise her once again.  Twisting her face to look at him, 
she asks, "Thou feels that because thou wished to have those thou loved 
back, yet felt t'lives of others thou knew not personally wert important 
so thou chose 'gainst it, that shouldst feel guilt?  Surely 'twould be 
worse an one cared so little for lovers that one didst nay care if they 
lived or died, or if one felt that one's selfish comfort was more 
important than aught else."
He blinks in surprise.  "Well...I..." He sits gape-mothed for a moment.  
"The wanting feels wrong, I suppose. Emotional baggage.  I don't know."
She looks at him, still confused. Hesitantly, "Be it t'emotions that thou 
feels be wrong, or be it t'fact that thou thinks they shouldst be dead 
and buried?  Yet if they be so dead as to no longer cause pain, then they 
be so dead as to no longer bring remembered joy, no?  And that seems a 
poor recompense."
"Yes..." he says quietly.  "I think...that I should be over it by now.But 
part of me isn't.  Maybe never will be."
"An thou couldst forget thy lovers so easily, then 'tis my thought thou 
wouldst nay be worth loving." When she finally feels him relax, she 
murmurs quietly to him in Welsh, "Cariad, for someone who managed to hit 
several of your sore spots unerringly, she was surprisingly inept in 
other ways if she seriously wanted you to join her.  Not flicking away 
when you pulled a gun on her argues that she knew you well enough to 
guess that you wouldn't shoot without a further excuse, which makes her 
apparent belief that you would be willing to kill as easily as her 
faction somewhat odd, unless I misread her entirely.  In addition, it's a 
neonate's mistake to tell someone the plans of your faction before you've 
even found out which way they're leaning, unless you know they won't join 
and you want to feed them some misinformation, or else to get them to 
rush somewhere without watching their back.  May I suggest that you think 
about the possibility that she deliberately laid every guilt trip she 
could think of on you, to get you reacting instead of thinking about the 
likelihood of what she has said?"  Even more quietly, she adds,  "And if 
most of your sect have difficulty seeing the Dreaming,  I could take you 
through that shadow to the place that corresponds with a physical 
location in Terra's shadow, which might be of use if she was indeed 
trying to set a trap."
He listens quietly, still as a statue.  He opens his eye. (Welsh) "Yes.  
She knows me, Rhiannon.  Voormas knows me.  The point of this little 
performance wasn't to get me to join, it was to treat me like Hamlet's 
father and pour a little poison in my ears.  They know I'm going to be 
involved, and on what side, they just want to try and fix the when and 
how of the thing, and maybe goad me and make me a bit careless.  And he's 
just about accomplished that perfectly.  He knew what he was doing when 
he sent Vachon.  And she knew exactly what to say to me to get a rise out 
of me." Garret switches into English.  "I have to go, now.  I've known 
this was coming ever since that buisness with Somnitz.  If Voormas gets 
control of the Euthanatos, it's a lot worse than just civil war with the 
Council.  His faction thinks the entirety of creation needs to take a 
trip on the Wheel, and if he wins, he'll start picking apart the threads 
of creation until the whole thing falls apart. More importantly, he'll 
turn us into the murderers everyone else just *thinks* we are." He runs 
his hand through his hair.  "And Taktsang is gone, and that means Senex 
is the only other master with enough respect to pull the Tradition back 
together."
Quietly, she interjects in Welsh, "How sure are you that Taktsang is 
indeed dead?  Is it possible that she was simply trying to get you out of 
the way of her attempt at Taktsang, or someone else?  If they wish to 
start a civil war with the Council, it would certainly help to kill a few 
outside your Tradition as well, not so?  For that matter, unless this 
Voormas, Vachon, Senex, and you are the only masters in your sect, what 
are the others' reactions going to be, once they find out, or what are 
the other Traditions going to do about this death, if the Council is 
indeed some organization that includes the other Traditions?  And is 
there a possibility that if you walk into this trap, that your actions 
could be considered proof that you are a danger to your sect given the 
right set of insinuations to others?  You might want to double-check 
first that this Taktsang is indeed dead, that it is not rumored that 
you're the one responsible for the death, and that the rest of the 
Council knows enough to take precautions."  
He frowns.  (Welsh) "She can't lie to me.  I know her too well, and 
besides, I listened to her through the strands of Fate.  Taktsang really 
*is* dead. Even if she had believed he was dead and he wasn't I would 
have known.  The object of this is not to start civil war, it's an issue 
of doctrine.  Voormas represents the ideological faction within the 
Euthanatos who think that the universe as a whole needs a trip along the 
wheel, and I am part of the faction that beleives that we are not 
equipped to judge the entirety of creation.  The other masters, at least 
the ones who want to support Senex, will probably be gathering at 
Cerberus, because that's where Senex is.  I think.  I'm out of touch, 
that's why I need to talk to Senex and find out what's going on.  I don't 
know who's working for Voormas and who isn't right now.  Senex I trust, 
and I know he trusts me."
 "The Council is probably in a state of emergency.  To be truthful, I 
don't know exactly what they'll do, probably convene an emergency session 
to formally appoint Senex as the new Council Representative.  I don't 
know if Taktsang's assassin has been taken alive or not, but it's a safe 
bet he hasn't if he's one of us, we don't make good prisoners."

She shrugs, slightly abashed, "At least, the set-up seems a bit like a 
tale Tarod dug up on how the princedom of Carcasonne changed hands.  The 
eventual winner assassinated the prince, and let a chief supporter of his 
rival know about it, so naturally enough the supporter went to inform the 
rival.  The winner, having spread some information that the supporter was 
the one to kill the prince, used his going to the rival as proof that the 
rival was behind the death of the prince, thus eliminating both the rival 
and his chief supporter while getting a scapegoat to be sacrificed to the 
Justiciar in the process."
(Welsh) "Remind me to consult you on any matters of intrigue.  You're 
much better at it than I am." He looks up at her.  "I need to go to 
Cerberus.  And that's probably where they'll make their try at me, if 
they're going to make one.  Are you sure you want to do this, Ke'chara?" 
He waves his hands, smiling slightly.  "Nevermind, I should know by now 
you only do things if you really want to."
She stares at him, slightly annoyed. (Welsh) "Cariad, I might not wish to 
swear undying love to you forever, but that doesn't mean I think you 
don't deserve some effort on my part to keep you alive now, even if 
you're bound and determined to walk into a trap you know quite well was 
baited with you in mind.  
He winces. She continues.
"At least, as a sugnwr gwaed, my capabilities may not be *quite* as 
well-known as yours, unless you have been discussing them over a beer 
with the rest of your sect, which might improve your odds a bit."  She 
frowns a bit in thought, "Exactly what do you want to go to this Cerberus 
for, and where is it?"
"I need to talk to Senex and see how many other Masters are with us. 
Cerberus is Pluto's third moon."
"I think I remember enough of his ch'i and shih to find this Senex again, 
once in t'Abyss." she says thoughtfully (Welsh).  "And if that doesn't 
work, I can try picking up the place from your memories - or you wouldn't 
happen to have some rock from there, would you?"
(Welsh)  "Actually, I think I do have one." He gets up and pulls his bag 
out from behind the bar, rummages in it for a second, and makes a 
triumphant cry. "I knew I kept it!" He comes back with a small lump of 
unremarkable grey stone that looks superficially like granite, but is as 
light as pumice.
	Rhiannon takes it, an intent listening look on her face, then as 
soon as Garret is ready, the shadows flux around the two of them and they 
vanish.