Do’Grum’s attention was focused on a robed apparition that faded in and out of existence like a swirling mist as it hovered above the pool. The mercenaries stayed crouched near the opening, waiting and listening.

  Do’Grum said to the figure, “We’ve nearly finished the digging. Why would you abandon me now?”

  “Because,” replied the apparition, “you have been too careless.” Something about that voice made Satchel cringe. The apparition continued, “Your arrogance has clouded your judgment. You were supposed to dig those tunnels to access any point within Tirian. Instead, you have stockpiled your own fortune. My plan is no longer feasible.”

  Do’Grum said, almost pleading, “What's so wrong with taking a few shinies?”

  “Fool! You could have been a king with more wealth than you could imagine had you simply carried out my instructions. Even now, hunters are searching for your head, and they are closing in even as we speak. Not only have you delayed me, but you have also drawn attention to yourself and jeopardized my plans.”

  “Please,” Do’Grum said, fear permeating his voice, “give us another chance.”

  “Too late,” said the apparition in a dark tone that sent shivers straight to the core of Satchel’s being. He saw that the older Basco even cringed a little. "Your time is up, Do’Grum. I’ll leave your fate in the hands of the two men behind you.”

  Do’Grum spun round and his eyes met those of the mercenaries. The next few seconds froze in time as neither party moved.

  Then everything happened at once.

  Do’Grum drew his sword and charged with a rorar. Merton and young Basco moved in opposite directions, forcing Do’Grum to choose between them. Poor Merton became his target. The ogre bisected him from head to foot.

  Young Basco leaped onto Do’Grum’s back. The ogre flailed around, trying to knock his attacker loose, but to no avail. Metal flashed. A line formed across Do’Grum’s throat as Basco’s knife cut through. It hit a blood vessel, and green blood gushed out.

  But the ogre was not so easily brought down. He thrust his back toward the cave wall, the impact jarring Basco loose. Satchel heard the cracking of ribs and winced. Young Basco’s knife clattered across the floor.

  Do’Grum grabbed at the gash on his neck his free hand, turned to face his opponent, and charged again. Basco dodged the attack. The ogre’s sword slammed in the cave wall with such force that it sent shards of rock flying in all directions. A sharp piece shot straight into young Basco’s left eye. The young mercenary’s scream filled the cave. Do’Grum gazed down at his opponent. The look on his face was one that Satchel would never forget. Twisted, angry, and afraid, the ogre glared at Basco as blood ran through his fingers and down his front. His breathing was heavy and hoarse. Then his gaze shifted to the figure above the pool.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Gurgling noises came from his throat as he said, “To...the hells...with you...you white bas—”

  Do’Grum collapsed to the ground.

  Satchel looked up at the apparition. The figure was smiling.

  Then the pool, the apparition, the cave, and young Basco blurred momentarily before fading into darkness. They were back in the study in Leona, the familiar smell of old books and parchment returning.

  “What happened?” asked Satchel.

  “I fainted at that point. Jarek found me and dragged me out of that cave. I woke up two days later in Nairn. We announced our victory over the ogres, but not before we had gone back and procured a small portion of the treasure for ourselves. What’s wrong, boy?”

  Satchel had a serious look on his face.

  “That man above the pool,” he said. “Can you show me the memory again. Only the part in the cave before everything went black?”

  “Certainly, but why?”

  “I want to see something.”

  They placed their hands on the sphere once again. Within seconds, the scene from moments ago returned. Satchel moved closer to the pool and focused on the face of the apparition. He paid special attention when the figure smiled.

  Satchel’s eyes widened. “I know who that is!”

  The vision shimmered and the study reappeared.

  “What do you mean?” asked Basco. “Who is he?”

  “The White Knight, the man that danced with Addie tonight. It’s the same man as the one from your memory. His voice sounded a little different, but that smile is unmistakable.”

  Basco made a grave face. “What can that mean?” He seemed to speak more to himself than to Satchel. “Is he hunting me?”

  “You never found out who he was?”

  Basco shook his head. “As soon as we received our reward we moved on, and I forgot about him. The only thing that mattered was that Do’Grum was dead, and we were rich beyond measure." He sat back, contemplative. "However, it seems as though Do’Grum’s failure was merely a delay for a much grander scheme. There are but few reasons to need a tunnel system like that. Could be smuggling routes. Might even be conquest.”

  Conquest. The word weighed heavy in Satchel’s chest. His head began to throb a little.

  “Either way,” continued Basco, “if that man in the pool is indeed the White Knight, it seems as though we’re dealing with a dangerous and cunning individual. One who has been at his schemes for a long time.”

  Basco placed the sphere back in the chest and closed the lid.

  “This matter requires more investigation,” said Basco. “This business about the mandolin and the gentleman, this White Knight. They’re linked together somehow, and it has to do with that scroll.” Basco eyed the clock. “It’s late. We’ll talk this over with Jarek in the morning. Make no mention of what we’ve discussed. Not to a soul.”

  “My mouth stays shut.”

  “Good boy.”

  As they stood to leave, the door to the study opened and Addie walked in with a blank stare on her face.

  “Addie?” said Satchel.

  She looked at him, ran her eyes over him then shifted her gaze to Basco. He and Satchel exchanged confused glances.

  “Is everything all right, girl?” asked Basco.

  She gave no reply, but scanned the entire room, taking in every detail. Satchel called her name again, but she still did not respond. Then, as abruptly as she had entered, she walked back through the doorway and into the hall, Basco and Satchel following her. Halfway down the length of the hallway, her body went limp. It looked as though she would fall but caught herself on the wall with one arm. She looked back at Satchel with panic on her face. Her mouth moved as if she was trying to speak, yet nothing came out. Then her eyes rolled back into her head, her arm gave way, and she collapsed on the floor. Satchel ran to her side.

  “What the blazes was that?” said Basco.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen her like that,” replied Satchel. “The ring?”

  “Could be. It's clear we're in territory beyond our expertise. I’m surer of it now than before: We need to speak to the old woman.”