The stone steps descended a long way before finally ending at a long hallway cut in the stone. The air here was cool and slightly wet. Rishmond was sure they were well below the surface of the ocean, in the bedrock of the ocean bed. Powerful magic must be at work since the stairs and hall were dry, no ocean water leaking in. 

The walls were plain and unpainted, natural rock dug through and smoothed to an almost polish. The paintings from the tunnels and halls above were gone. Lights in the form of hand-sized half-globes stuck in the wall about 8 feet above the floor glowed gently at set intervals, making the torches unnecessary, they'd extinguished them and left them at the foot of the stairs in a neat pile incase they were needed again. The little crystal golem had made no comment on the torches or their being left behind, in fact it had made no more comments or conversation since the beginning of the long descent except to issue a warning about various low clearance places or the occasional stumbling point. It plodded on ahead of them quietly.

Rishmond continued to observe the creature and the group had discussed him for a bit of their journey. Drak confirmed what Rishmond had thought, these types of creatures had been called golems and had been servants of the Gods back when the Gods walked among mortals, over 300 turns ago. The means of creating them had never been something mortals learned, or that the Gods taught. Guess there wasn't really a need. Drak had recounted a bit of a book he'd read about them once, not specifically about crystal golems, but golems in general. They were simple creatures, only capable of a small bit of autonomy, but very good at following instructions for long periods of time, and could be left to guard or maintain a specific area with specific instructions for long periods of time, as proved by this little golem still functioning and doing its job over 300 turns after its maker disappeared from this realm.

They'd also discussed the God Denisisie. She was not a God Rishmond was familiar with, in fact no one but Drak had any idea who she was or what she was like. Even Drak had only limited knowledge. He had, of course, come across her name and some information about her while reading books, old books and, as Toby had commented, certainly boring. She'd been mentioned as the God of History, but not mortal history, or even history of Rit, but history of the Gods. She was said to be the keeper of the God's knowledge, a sort of scribe of their history and activity. She was also said to be the God of Architecture and Creativity. The book credited her with being the God who inspired many Wizards to create powerful artifacts and innovative spells.

The climb down the stairs had been long, not only in distance but in time as well and Rishmond was pretty sure it must be getting on toward late afternoon. If this went on for much longer, they were not going to make it home by dark. If they made it home at all. Of course, if their accidental discovery brought the Gods back to Rit, it was likely they would be forgiven. Rishmond kept those thoughts to himself, no need to get the others worried about the time of day or if they would make it home on time. There was enough going on and more than enough to worry about.

The group had grown quiet since entering the hall way. They walked on it silence, the sound of running water and their own footsteps the only sounds for several long moments as the traversed the 70 or so meters to the door at the far end of the hall. They passed two doors on either side of the hall a few meters before arriving at the door at the end of the hall. The golem, Torg he'd said to call him, reached the door and turned the handle, pushing the door inward to the chamber beyond. 

Rishmond paused for just a moment wondering just where in relation to the island and the entrance they were. It seemed to him they may very well have traveled the entire distance back to the mainland by now. That would be interesting were it true. They were deep underground, that was certain, and no longer underneath the island itself.

The group passed through the door Torg held open and into a well lit opulent room. Rishmond had never used the word opulent to describe anything he'd ever seen in real life, but if anything deserved that word, or what he thought the word meant, this was it.

The room was large, circular and 10 meters across at least. The ceiling was arched overhead in a dome, big brass beams arching up to meet in the center where a brass and crystal chandelier hung, gentle yellow light emanating from a number of crystals. The spaces on the ceiling between the beams were painted with intricate scenes depicting people and Gods engaged in various activities in various places. The paintings were detailed and beautiful, the colors bright and unfaded with the centuries. The middle of the room was sunken with what appeared to be a golden fire pit in the middle and cushioned  seating all around the sunken pit. Dark purple velvet covered two large couches on either side of a set of large arched windows. A number of different overstuffed chairs and lounges sat about the room, some leather, others cloth. A large floor to ceiling bookshelf covered more than half the wall, a brass and steel ladder on wheels appeared to provide access to the upper shelves. There had to be thousands of books on the shelves. 

A huge dark wooden desk with a matching chair sat on one side of the room in front of an open circular metal stair winding up to a landing above the room. Another room looked to be beyond the landing.

The windows looked out onto the seabed, corals and fans waved slowly in the currents. Colorful fish swam in and out of anemones and through small breaks in the rocks. The flash of silver caught Rishmond's attention as a school of small fish quickly changed direction and shot off at speed, alarmed by something among the coral. 

"Is this the window room you were going to take us to, Cantor?" Rishmond didn't think this room matched the description Cantor had given of a mostly bare stone room with a few benches formed from the floor to sit on to stare out windows at the sea, but maybe she'd been trying to surprise them. 

Cantor shook her head, rendered speechless by the wonder around them. It was obvious from the way she gazed about in wonder that she'd never been here before.

Torg the golem continued through the room to a cabinet to one side of the pair of large windows. His little legs moved quickly and he made a sort of ringing sound as he moved. "Would anyone like a cold drink?" His voice sounded different in this room, softer and yet stronger as if he'd found his confidence now that he was back in familiar territory. "I can offer you many fine beverages. Water? Sugar-sweet tea? Hot tea? Brandy or scotch?"

No one answered. Everyone was too busy trying to take in the whole room. Drak had moved directly to the shelves of books, running his fingers lightly over their exposed spines, reading titles, moving down the shelves almost in a trance, mumbling to himself. Toby and Bollen had their faces nearly pressed against the glass of one window, excitedly exclaiming to each other about the different fish and what they were doing. Cantor walked slowly around the sunken pit, careful to not step off the edge into it, gazing upward and turning to take in the domed ceiling and the display cabinets set along the cornice completely around the room. Walm stood at the desk, careful not to touch anything, but staring down at what was on its surface, perhaps trying to determine what it was all for.

Rishmond watched his companions for a moment before moving around the pit toward where Torg stood by the cabinet. "Water for everyone, but would you set them on the little tables down there?" Rishmond pointed into the pit. "Were going to take a look around before we sit down if that's ok?"

"Of course Wizard Rishmond. Ice water? Or room temperature?" 

Rishmond had to think for a minute. It was already pretty cool in this room, and the air smelled musty as if it hadn't been used in a very long time. That made great sense actually, it was probably at least 340 turns since anyone but this little golem had been in this room, and it was unlikely the golem had to breathe at all. "Room temperature will be fine Torg."

"Yes, of course."

The little golem turned back to the cabinet and began to open doors and busy itself getting water for everyone.

Rishmond turned away, drawn by the rest of the room. More shelves were nestled beneath and behind the spiral staircase. Rishmond stepped toward the stairs. A thin silvery chain hung between the two posts at the base of the stairs, blocking access to them. A small clasp on both ends of the chain kept it suspended there. Rishmond reached out for the chain but stopped himself before he touched it. Did this mean they were not allowed up there? 

"Torg. Can we go up there?" Rishmond pointed to the top of the stairs.

"Instructions are that you all should wait here until Her Eminence arrives. If she gives permission then you may go up to the private library and studio. I cannot give you permission to go there, but neither can I prevent you. I would ask that you wait though, if you would."

"Rishmond!  Come here!  You should see this!" Cantor's voice cut across the room and startled Rishmond a bit. He glanced up toward the top of the stairs for just a moment, strangely drawn by whatever was up there, then he turned back to the room and spotted Cantor standing at what looked to be a lectern with a large open book open on top. 

"What did you find?" he hollered as he hurried across the room to join Cantor. Everyone else but Drak joined them at the lectern. 

"Drak! It's a book! You'll like it! Come over here. Those books aren't going anywhere," Cantor called. 

Rishmond looked down at the open book. It was a huge tome, thick and wide, taking up the entire top of the big lectern. The pages were bright and not yellowed by age at all. On the left side was a colorful map of what looked like Halconiket. He recognized the shape of it thanks to lessons given by Beritrude over the last turn. The details didn't seem to match what he knew though. This must be a map from a different time. That made sense given the time this room must have lain sealed since the Gods left. Details like the desert in the middle of the continent not being there, instead what appeared to be a huge inland sea surrounded by lush forest and grassland occupied the general center of the map. In place of the Shattered Islands was one large island off the southern coast. No country borders were marked on the map and the southern border of the icy north was much farther north than what Rishmond thought it was now.

The right side of the open book contained a lot of writing in a careful neat script, the hand that wrote this had been steady and careful. Rishmond scanned a bit of the writing, he was pretty good at reading now, The passages seemed to describe the continent and outlined a few places where Gods had apparently made their dwellings as well as strongholds of Demons. The book appeared at first glance to be some sort of history record, just recording facts and places. 

Drak stepped up and pushed his way to directly in front of the book, pushing Rishmond to his right and Cantor to his left, the others peered over shoulders or around those in front to look at the book. Rishmond glanced at Drak and noted that he had several volumes from the shelves tucked under one arm.

"Denisisie was a historian as well as an architect. According to things I have read, she was basically the scribe and historian for the Gods. She recorded everything they did, planned, said, if she was privy to it, so the texts say, she wrote it down or made a picture of it. I would bet that is the latest volume she was working on." Drak spoke quietly but firmly, nodding his head toward the book but not touching it. "I would love to read that, but there are other things we should read first, and we should begin to think about how we're all gonna get home before dark, or at all... "

"You are welcome to read any book here." Torg's voice came from directly behind the little group gathered before the book. "As a worthy Wizard and friend of Denisisie, all her information is yours, with the exception of what is locked in the vault. It would take many turns to read everything that is in this library though, even were you to divide the task up amongst you."

As one the group turned to look at Torg. Rishmond stepped forward, pushing gently past Bollen and Toby to stand in front of Torg. "I'm not sure we want to read it all..." Drak made a sort of quiet strangling sound, "but we would like to read what we can. Can you help us to find things we might want to read? Do you know where information is in these books? If I asked you to tell me where to find a book about where the Gods went when not in the mortal realm, could you do that?"

"Of course I can. There are several books here with that information to varying degrees. Perhaps you can narrow your search parameters?"

Drak spoke up from behind Rishmond, "Yes. We would like a book that explains where Gods go when not in the realm of mortals, in simple terms with a brief description of that place, anecdotal, not technical."

Rishmond looked back at Drak with a grateful expression.

"Third shelf up, 5 sections from the right, 7th volume. The one in green leather. The information you seek is in the fourth chapter, a story written by the Traveler to explain to his mortal friend where he was for three years when they thought he'd been killed by a Demon. I've heard mortals describe the story he tells as amusing."

"Who's the Traveler, Torg?" Rishmond watched the golem's flows of magic quicken and change color as multiple sparks erupted in the dark part of his crystalline head. The activity inside the golem seemed different as he considered Rishmond's question. It was like it took more activity to generate what he was about to say.

"The God named Maltifacc by mortals, also called The Traveler and the Marker of Ways. God of Traveling, God of Those Who Are Lost, the God of Trailblazing. My mistress also referred to him often as Joker."

Cantor turned Rishmond toward her with a hand on his arm, "I've heard of Maltifacc, never knew he was ever called The Traveler. Heard of the Joker too, but I didn't know they were the same God."

"Did you see what happened when I asked about The Traveler? Like the magic activity inside Torg sorta ramped up? What do you suppose that is about? I know he runs on magic, but why more activity now than before?" Rishmond indicated the golem with one hand, gesturing to illustrate the increase in activity.

"What are you talking about Rishmond?" said Cantor. "What activity? He's just standing there. The way his mouth moves is pretty strange though, like the rock his head is made from is nothing more than clay. It's pretty weird, disconcerting even."

Rishmond paused, "No, I mean the flow inside the crystal. Like being able to see the blood flow inside of him, but its magic and not blood. And what I assume is his brain, the dark blob inside his crystal head? Can't you see the silver sparks when he thinks?" Rishmond had stopped thinking of the little golem as an it and begun to think of him as male.

"I can see he's made of crystal, but he just looks like dirty quartz or something. I don't see anything inside of him and certainly not a brain of any sort." Cantor had also begun to refer to the golem has He instead of It.

"I think you're seeing things Rishmond. Remember how you thought you saw a sea monster a couple of weeks ago when we were off Butman's Island? You said it looked like a horse with a fish tale swimming deep beneath the boat. I know you got the magic, but sometimes I think Tybour puts some stuff in your head you just don't need there." Toby's tone was mostly teasing, but Rishmond knew he had grown to dislike Tybour over the past turn. Tybour said it was jealousy. 

"Rishmond's not seeing things," said Bollen. "I see it too. Like a flow of lights all under the golem's surface. I also see its brain, like a dark chunk of obsidian inside its head. And the silver sparks, especially when it talks or when we ask it things."

Rishmond turned to Torg. "Is it normal for mortals to be able to see the magic flowing inside you?  Like blood? Or see the silver sparks in your head when you think?" Rishmond made some assumptions about what he saw and what the golem might know about itself.

The golem paused for a long moment, the sparks Rishmond and Bollen could see in its brain began to fire at a greatly increased rate. "How is it that you do not know about golems or what Wizards can and cannot see in them, worthy Wizard?" The golem's voice held little inflection and didn't show much emotion or reveal much about what the golem might be thinking at all so far in their experiences with him, but Rishmond definitely thought he detected suspicion in the question now.

"Golems have gone out of use around mortals these days, Torg." Rishmond tried to sound friendly, not wanting the golem to change its mind about whether the humans he now harbored were actually supposed to be here or not. "Are you aware of how long you have been without visitors down here? Do you know what turn it is?"

Torg paused for a moment and the sparks and magic flowed quickly inside him. "It has been three-hundred forty-one turns, 4 months and 11 days since Goddess Denisisie left to conclave with the other Gods. She left to deliver a spell and help them perform it, a powerful spell designed to rid the moral realm of Demons. I was not immediately aware of the amount of time that had passed."

All but Drak exchanged glances, he was too busy searching through books and pulling them from shelves into a tidy pile near a big chair. 

"Yes," said Rishmond. "Three-hundred forty turns."

"The spell your speaking of... Would that be the Blessing?" Cantor asked.

"The time fits," Rishmond answered her, not waiting on Torg's reply.

"I do not recognize that name, no," answered Torg. "My mistress called it 'The Cleansing' and it was meant to banish Demons to the Ethereal, freeing mortals of them and the war between Gods and Demons."

"We know that as the Blessing, Torg." Rishmond stepped up toward the golem. "This is a long story, we should sit." He moved past Torg and stepped down into the seating pit, choosing a seat next to a glass of water set upon one of the little tables built into the circular seating that defined the edge of the sunken seating area. Cantor and the others followed, each choosing a seat. Torg followed and stood in front of Rishmond and waited.

"The God's did did perform a powerful ritual spell, three-hundred forty turns ago. I've read about it, and it is taught in our lessons today, but no mortal alive today was alive then, as you can imagine." Rishmond settled in to tell the story, just as it had been told to him by Beritrude more than once in the last turn. "During the Renewal that year, the Gods gathered at a secret place with the seven most powerful mortal Wizards and an army of Apharallies, Beastmen and Humans. Records tell us that the Gods were intending to cast a powerful ritual spell that would banish Demons from Rit forever. Alas, something went wrong and the Demons were not banished from Rit, but were instead relegated to a small section of Halconiket and a part of the Western Ocean. Worst of all, the Gods were banished from the mortal realms themselves and they have not been seen or heard from since." Rishmond gave Torg the short version without all the extra story that Beritrude loved to include.

"No one knows what went wrong. For several turns after what we call the Blessing, the world was in turmoil. Quakes and floods, storms and droughts. And wars. It was chaos for turns after the Blessing. There's even a children's song about it, something Wizards created to teach us about the Blessing even from a very young age. There are books all about what might have gone wrong and someone always has a new theory. Wizards and adventurers search Halconiket and even the smaller continent of Salbat for ways to reverse the spell, or repair its damage and bring the Gods back to us." Rishmond paused. "Are you... can you... I mean, are you able to communicate with Denisisie? Can you bring the Gods back, Torg?"

Torg was quiet for long moments, the magic inside of him flashing furiously. The only sound in the room was a rhythmic ticking from some device near the desk.

"You appear to be telling the truth as you know it, Wizard Rishmond." The suspicion Rishmond thought he'd heard in Torg's voice was gone now. "I fear you may not comprehend the behavior of the Gods. They cannot be gone. The Gods do not make mistakes. When a spell is cast it does what the Architect intended for it to do. There is no error for a God. You must be mistaken in some way and the Gods are still around but working in a way you do not comprehend. My first duty is to my Goddess. I must determine what is happening and find Denisisie to assist her and let her and the other Gods know that the mortals believe the Gods have left this mortal realm. I am sure they are already aware, but must have important business to which they must attend. Important indeed to have left you mortals alone long enough that you think they have abandoned you."

"You think we just haven't noticed the Gods in over 300 turns?" Toby was incredulous. "Do you really think all mortals are so stupid we just failed to notice?" Toby stood from his seat, gesturing angrily. "They aren't around! Everyone says so! Even our most powerful Wizards have looked and come to the same conclusion. The Gods have abandoned us!"

"Toby! It's alright!" Rishmond held out a hand toward Toby to stop him from talking. "There are things we mortals do not understand. Perhaps there is an explanation for this absence. Perhaps it is even part of the plan the Gods have for getting rid of Demons once and for all." Rishmond didn't believe that at all, but there was no telling what the little golem could do it they angered it, or if it thought they were somehow not aligned with the Gods. The protections on this place had killed many a much stronger and more experienced Wizard than any of this little group.

"How will you go about finding the God Denisisie. Torg?" Cantor spoke up trying to distract Torg from Toby's outburst. 

"I will have to follow her into your world. I am loath to leave here, but must. I can attempt to contact her by magical means, but to really find her if she is hidden, I will need to follow her until I physically find her. She left here bound for the conclave, which may have been the Blessing you described in your story." Torg shuffled up to Rishmond on his short legs and looked up at him. "Will you go with me? I do not know your world and it is now over 300 turns since I have ventured out of my home. I would like someone to help me navigate to the places I must go to find my Mistress. If no mortal has seen a God in that time, it will be worth your while to help me find them."

"Oh.. of.. of course. I mean, if I can. I am not sure I am the best companion for this. I am not sure I know much more about the world outside of Retinor, in fact I know only what I have been taught in lessons this past turn..."

"I understand Wizard Rishmond. It was foolish of me to ask. I am sure a Wizard of your power has many things better to do than wander the globe with the likes of a lowly golem. Not to worry. I am sure I will find my way."

"No! That's not it!" Rishmond felt bad for Torg. "I want to go, but I am sure my parents wouldn't let me. I mean, I've only just turned sixteen. I couldn't go by myself with you..."

"So if you all went? Would that do? I am sure with the 6 of you it will be an easy journey as long as we avoid Demons and their armies. And you said Demons are trapped somewhere? They can't roam freely? So we can move about with them interfering? They are locked away far away from here?"

"No. I mean, Yes, they are confined to the westernmost parts of the continent. But there are other dangers, and we don't exactly know our way around to places you may want to go."

"What about Tybour?" Cantor injected. "This is just the kind of thing he'd be up for! And as First Mage of Malminar, it would kind of be exactly his job, right?"

"Well.. sure..." Rishmond was a bit unsure. What if Tybour just decided to examine Torg. Take him apart to see how he was made. He'd grown oddly fond of the little guy in the short time they'd known him.

"Its Tybour's job, Rishmond," said Toby in a bit of a whine. "He can take Torg to where he needs to go and he can bring back the Gods. Hal and Berti would never let us go on some trek across the world with an unknown magical creature that we found while being somewhere we shouldn't have been anyway. We're already likely gonna be grounded for life as it is."

The ocean view outside the windows was already growing dark, so Rishmond knew Toby was right. There was no way they would make it back to the boat and make it home before dark now. He could convince Tybour to not harm the golem, he was pretty sure of that. Finding the Gods was something Tybour did talk about a lot. A lot of Wizards in Retinor were looking for evidence of where the Gods had gone and ways to bring them back, so it was very likely Tybour would take on this quest. Of course that would mean Rishmond wouldn't be involved, and he desperately wanted to be. Maybe he could convince Tybour to include him, and maybe he and Tybour together could convince Hal and Berti to let him go, though that might be a stretch. Hal and Berti were supportive of most of the things Rishmond and Toby wanted to do, but this would probably be too far. Ah, Toby, he wouldn't want to go if Tybour was going. He'd have to convince Toby to put aside his dislike long enough to go anyway if, against all odds, thue got to go at all.

"Can we all go?" Bollen and Walm spoke at the same time. "If you go Rishmond, we want to go too," continued Walm. "We could help, and we've never gotten to go with Tybour on a trip and you have. Kinda unfair. We should get to go too," Walm stated mater of factly. "We discovered Torg and this place right along with you, Rishmond.

"As if that was enough to convince their parents and the authorities that they had a right or reason to go anywhere', thought Rishmond. 'More likely they would all be grounded, or thrown in jail for violating the rules about being on this island.

"I don't think it will be up to us," said Cantor, apparently thinking along the same lines as Rishmond. "Even if we get home before dark, which we won't, we're going to have to explain where we went and where this golem came from." Cantor had that look she got when she was dreaming up an adventure or coming up with a convincing argument that might keep them all out of trouble once they were in it. "Perhaps we can tell them we found Torg wandering around the beach, or... better, that part of him was sticking up out of the sand and we dug him up and that was why we were late." She paused for a moment before speaking again, the plan formulating in her mind and she sounded more and more confident as she continued. "Yeah, we head back now, get a little dirty with sand when we get back to the beach, stash the boat and head home. We bring Torg to Hal and Berti, if we can convince them then the other parents will be easy. But we have to stick to the story, and we all have to know our parts."

This wasn't the first time Cantor had come up with a plan to lie to the adults. It wasn't the first time the group had done something or gotten into something they shouldn't have. The team knew how to play this.

"Yeah," Toby chimed in. "That could work. We found Torg on the beach and dug him up, took us some time so we were late and then we hand him over to Tybour and off they go on their search for the Gods. We can do this."

"What about the books?" Drak spoke up from near his pile of books he'd stacked up from the shelves. "I can't just leave them here. What if we can't get back? And these books need to be seen by the Wizard's Counsel. This is important."

Leave it to Drak to be more concerned about books than their own hides.

"Perhaps Torg can tell us how to get back? Or make it so the Wizards can get back in here once he's gone to look for the Gods?" Rishmond knew the books were important, but there had to be a way to get back to them, Torg had to be able to make the library available to the Malminar Wizards.

"Will Torg go along with the plan? He can talk you know, and he may just tell the adults what really happened anyway." Bollen pointed out what the rest had missed. "Torg, if we ask you to lie to our parents and the adults you might meet, could you tell them the story we give you instead of what actually happened?"

Everyone in the group shifted their focus to the crystal golem standing in front of Rishmond, listening to them talk, they waited several long moments while Torg apparently mulled the request over. Rishmond and Bollen watched the silver sparks fire and the magic flow inside his body quicken.

"I can do as you request if Wizard Rishmond desires it. As the Wizard who woke me from my long slumber, I serve him second only to Denisisie. Is this your desire Wizard Rishmond?" Torg took a couple steps back from Rishmond, keeping his eyes focused on Rishmond's face.

Rishmond glanced around at the others, one at a time. Each of them nodded in turn to Rishmond, answering the unasked question indicating they were all in agreement with the plan Cantor had come up with.

"Yes, Torg. That is my wish. If anyone should ask, or when you relate the story of how you came to be with us, please lie and tell anyone not present here that we found you on the beach, buried in the sand and we dug you up."

"And that you came to be on the beach because you were washed from the island long ago and that you spent the last 300 turns buried on that beach," Cantor added.

"And that you know how to get back to the island and can help get other Wizards into this chamber, so they can have the books," said Drak, moving closer to the group in the pit. His tone was sad, likely because this plan would mean he wouldn't be able to take any of these books with him. Drak turned away from the group, secreting the small, green leather bound book in the large cargo pocket of his pants.

"Where would you go first, Torg?" Rishmond asked. "Since the world has likely changed in the past 300 turns, it may be unlikely the kingdoms and such would be the same. Malminar is only a bit over 200 turns old, founded by Emberly Malminar after the Blessing when she found the Staff of Ceitus in a cave not far from here on the mainland. What I'm saying is that kingdoms and countries have changed since the Gods left so how will you know where to start?"

"Good question, Wizard Rishmond. I should begin at the first place Denisisie was to stop on her journey, the mountains of what was called The Reaches 300 turns ago, to obtain a holfin crystal of sufficient size and density for the spell she had crafted for the ritual. Perhaps from there I can find where she was bound next. I was never privy to the location of the ritual, but I am confident I can find a clue as to her destination from there." Torg turned and began to move across the room toward the foot of the spiral stairs. "Come, follow me and we shall head for the mainland. There will be no need to return for your boat."

The group followed Torg to the stairs, Rishmond leading with Cantor close behind. Toby, Bollen and Walm followed with Drak bringing up the rear, still loath to leave the books.

Upon reaching the stairs, Torg unclasped the chain on one side letting the chain fall with a clatter against the other post. He turned and gestured up the stairs. "There is an exit on the other side of the workshop, it will take us directly to the shore of the mainland. Then you can lead on to this Retinor you speak of. I assume it is a town nearby?"

Torg mounted the stairs a bit awkwardly with his short legs, using his overly long arms to assist in his climb. It was a odd site to watch him scramble up the stairs on all fours.

The top of the stairs opened out into what looked like personal chambers. Chairs and lounges scattered around a sitting room. A deep carpet of gold and red lay on the floor and a large comfortable looking bed took up one wall. The ceiling here was covered in some sort of deep green cloth. It looked soft and fuzzy. A brass railing closed off the overlook to the room they had just left. 

An archway on the other side of the room was hung with a beaded curtain, pulled back on both sides and tied with a thick gold colored rope so one could see through to the room beyond. 

The room beyond was brightly lit by large panels on the ceiling. The walls, floor and ceiling were white as were the counter tops covering cabinets against the walls and on stand alone islands in the middle of the room. The room was long and straight with a large dark door at the far end. Strange contraptions sat on the counters, twisting glass tubes and glass containers of various sizes and shapes, all clear and sparkling and empty. Books were lined up neatly on a few of the counters along the walls, bookends of brass holding them up and keeping them neat. One of the islands was clear of anything except a single metal orb about a foot in diameter sitting on what looked to be glass supports. The orb was mirror polished. A wide empty space stretched in front of the door.

The door was some dark metal Rishmond had never seen before, darker than steel but not black, more dark, flat gray. A large circular device like a ship's wheel covered the middle of the door and several levers and rods seemed to be attached to the mechanisms behind the wheel.

Torg moved quickly through the well lit room directly to the door and began to turn the large wheel. The sound of metal against well oiled metal came from the door as the rods and levers moved and the door sort of popped free of the metal jam. Torg began to pull the door inward and it moved slowly at first before finally swinging open to reveal and other small room beyond.

Torg scrambled over the low lintel of the doorway and into the room beyond.

Rishmond and Cantor stepped through the doorway together into the gray metal room beyond, as they did Torg pulled a small lever to the side of the far wall. The entire wall began to slide upward out of site into the ceiling. Rishmond and Cantor both grabbed at each other's arms as they both saw what was behind the rising wall. Nothing! Just the water of the ocean and the gentle slope of the sea bed stretching away in front of them. The smell of salt water and fish premiated the room. They both expected the water to rush into the room at any second. The scene was lit with the red of the last light of the setting sun and Rishmond could see the surface of the water a few feet overhead. 

The rest of the gang crowed into the much smaller room, exclamations coming from them in various degrees as they saw the wall of water.

Torg waited until they were all in the room before he moved around to the hinge side of the open door. "I must close the door to protect the internal rooms and allow us to step out into the ocean."

"We're gonna do what?" exclaimed Walm. "I don't like to swim! I don't do it well!"

The door swung shut with a muted bang followed by a hissing sound. The big wheel on this side of the door spun on its own, apparently closing them in and locking the door shut.

"Rishmond! Cantor! We are way too far underwater to just swim to the surface!" Walm set his back against the door as far from the wall of water as he could get. 

"Don't worry Walm," said Cantor. "I can help you. You know I'm a good swimmer. Just take a deep breath and hold it until we get to the surface. Its not all that far.  Once we are one the surface you'll be able to breathe and Rishmond and I can help get you to shore.  That doesn't look all that far either."

Cantor put her hand on Walm's shoulder, looking him in the eye and striving to keep him calm and project confidence.

"There will be no need to swim," said Torg. "We will walk along the bottom. It is a short walk and you will all be covered by an air suit. You will be able to breathe and walk almost as if you were on land. You won't even get your feet wet."

"An air suit?" repeated Rishmond. He looked around for any thing any of them could put on or doors indicating closets that might contain something he imagined would look like a bee keepers suit, but waterproof.

"Yes. And the walk is short, only a 20 or so meters to the beach and less than that before your heads are above water. This is the most preferred method mortals visiting Denisisie used, those that served and those that came for an audience. The island complex is much more for show and entertaining. Shall we continue?"

Rishmond stepped forward toward the wall of water. "Yes, we should go, we still have to get to the beach and dig a hole so it looks like we unburied Torg there. How do we do this Torg? Is there someway to put on this air suit?"

"Yes, Wizard Rishmond. Step through the barrier and the air suit will cover you, then just keep walking straight forward to the shore."

Rishmond looked at Toby and then at Cantor before turning to the wall of water and stepping right up to the wall. He could smell the salt water on the other side of whatever barrier held the water back from filling the little room. He held up his right hand and pushed it forward to the water and through. It was cold, but not uncomfortable, his hand pushed through and seemed to be wrapped in some sort of invisible cover. He pulled his hand back and looked at it. It wasn't even wet though he could still feel the cold of the water, he imagined he could feel the wetness as well, but his dry hand told a different story. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes before stepping through into the sea beyond. 

At first he felt something against his face and skin, like a thin cloth, but the sensation passed quickly as he stumbled a bit on a hard surfaced that sloped downward. He took a couple of quick steps to catch his balance, the water making it much easier to keep from falling, coming to a stop slightly bent at the waist to maintain his balance. He felt the ground beneath his feet change consistency from the hard floor to the softness of sand, not so soft that it was hard to walk, but he could feel it shifting beneath his feet. He righted himself to a standing position and opened his eyes. At first everything around him was blurry but sharpened quickly and he could look around. He turned, looking back at the little room he'd just come from. A large square of light shimmered there, opening to the room where his companions stood watching him. He watched as Torg stepped through the barrier and into the water. The wall rippled a bit at Torg coming through. Rishmond waved at his companions and Cantor and Toby waved back.

Cantor stepped back from the wall and helped guide Walm toward the water while Toby stepped through the wall with no hesitation now that Rishmond was on the other side. Rishmond watch him pass through the wall, the ripple was much greater than the one Torg had made. Toby looked around with wonder as he walked a few steps from the wall. Rishmond noted that he appeared to be contained in a sort of air bubble shaped like himself with a slightly larger bubble around his head. As Toby moved the bubble around him shifted and moved in an odd way, blurring parts of Toby and then resolving that blurriness. Toby crossed the sand to stand at Rishmond's side.

Rishmond looked down at Toby and said, "Amazing! What do you think?  Why don't we just float up to the surface?" Toby looked back with a blank look. Rishmond watched as Toby's lips moved. Sound reached Rishmond distorted and muted. No way to tell what Toby had said. Rishmond shook his head and waved his hands at Toby trying to convey that apparently talking was no good in these 'air suits', it appeared they wouldn't be able to talk to each other until they reached the surface.

Bollen and Drak joined them a moment later, they also tried talking to no avail. Torg joined them as well and said, "You will not be able to talk to each other in the air suits. I can modulate my voice in a way that you will be able to hear me, but I will not be able to understand you either, not easily. No need, we need just walk that way," he pointed in the opposite direction of the room they'd just left, "and we will be out of the ocean in short order."

Rishmond turned to watch Cantor and Walm make their way across the sand toward them. Walm seemed to have something of a death grip on Cantor's left arm, but he was moving and at least not panicking. 

Once the group had assembled a few feet from the little room, Torg returned to the room and just to one side and moved a small lever. The metal wall that had been there when they first entered the room lowered down, shutting off the white light from the room and hiding its contents once again behind a solid wall.  Rishmond noted that once the wall was closed, the room looked just like any other outcropping of coral covered rock. 

Torg led the group up the gentle slope of the sand toward the beach. The water grew more shallow step after step and it was only minutes before they found themselves standing on a sandy beach in the twilight of evening with the gentle sounds of small waves against the shore. It looked to Rishmond as if they were only a half a kilometer or so north of the beach they were supposed to be spending their day at. 

Cantor lead them south until they found the little cove where they'd begun their adventure. They dug a sizeable hole in the beach a few feet above the water line, getting them all dirty in the process. Darkness had fallen completely by the time the group, with the little crystal golem reflecting star light in the middle of them, headed south and home.

In the darkness of the woods just inland from the cove, a pair of watchful eyes observed carefully, noting the young mortals and the obviously different member of their party, a member not there when observed earlier rowing out to sea. A low growl escaped the throat of the creature as it watched them go. Too many of them to intercept alone and the unknown creature with no smell also provided pause, preventing the creature from following or attacking as it had planned earlier. This and the strange new creature needed to be reported to its master. The darks silent shape turned north west and hurried away on silent paws.