"Nainteen of ze leetle coppers. Zis eez good, cow man. Adieu, gentlemen, and good lack een yar travels."

The Greedy Guild disappeared into the mist and they were alone again. "Sorry about that, Lyd," Caertonn said sadly.

"I still don't understand what happened, nor a word that man said. What did we buy from him?"

"We bought bubkis," Kinenhael said, kicking the ground. "You gave him your money so that he wouldn't kill you."

"That wasn't very nice."

"No, it wasn't," Caertonn said. "That's twice in one day. How are they finding us?"

"I was thinking they were other adventurers," Kinenhael said, "but I think they're actually an encounter. We could keep getting them robbing us until we're in Metraft."

"Encounter?"

"Yeah. Sometimes these events happen on particular days or places. They're like bosses, but you have no control over when or where it happens. At least with a dungeon you enter of your own free will. Random encounters happen anywhere, anytime."

"Is there some sort of protection we could use against them in the future? How do we stop it from happening?"

Kinenhael rubbed his chin. "So, like, you can increase your luck, but that's deep into a diamond. Maybe Senses? You can take potions, but we don't have a person that far into...uh...Assembly and no money and no towns and no ingredients. We could fight, but we have a level four, a level six, and a level one against five level...I don't know. Tens, thirteens? I didn't see."

"Let me look at Senses then." Caertonn was starting to familiarize himself with his book and managed to open a little menu of information about the skill. Senses worked on honing the basic senses, like sight and touch, then moved to more advanced physical skills, like dexterity and perception. "That's a lot of work to get to luck."

"Nice thing about Senses is that, unless you've, like, lived in a cave for your whole life, you'll get an...intuition bonus, I think it's called, that might kick you into your next level."

"Is it worth going into the mana branch to get luck or should I see what I can get with the advanced?" he asked.

"I'm going to admit that I don't know exactly what luck does or if it will help us with Fuck Face and the Pointy Bros. I think it means good stuff is more likely to happen to you, like finding coppers on the road. I don't know if it means bad stuff is less likely to happen. It would suck to find money only to have to give it to them.

"But, hey, look at you picking up leveling things. Good job, Caertonn."

Caertonn smiled in thanks. "I'm going to switch to Senses anyway. It might help in other ways. Let's move on and hope the Guild doesn't get us again."

"It's going to take us a half-day to get to Zelma," Kinenhael said. "I'd suggest we split our journey into two and hope that we don't get picked off again in the morning."

"That sounds like a good idea," he said, slinging his light backpack over his shoulders.

The three began their eastbound journey in the rain. It grew harder, until they were soaked through and miserable. Caertonn began shifting his map, which thankfully never got wet, and discovered a strange symbol.

"What is this?" he asked Kinenhael.

The elf snapped his goggles down and looked north in that direction. "Oh, that's a grotto," he said. "Might not be a bad idea to do that, since we're not in a rush."

"Grotto?" Caertonn asked.

"It's an open dungeon. Anyone can come in and fight the bosses."

"That's good, right? It would be really helpful if a bunch of people teamed up and took out the grotto together."

"No. Three problems with that. The credit, loot, and experience would all go to one of the parties, not all of the parties. I think it's whoever hits the boss first and their group. So, while it would be nice if three parties ganged up on a boss and took turns, it's unlikely you'd find others willing to waste their time helping others."

"I suppose waiting our turn for a bit is better than walking in the rain. Let's go."

It was less than a half-mile 'til they reached a sign.

| Santa's Workshop |

| Levels 1-7 |

| Stay within the ice fence |

| Tap here for quests * |

"Who is 'Santa'?" Lyd asked.

"Don't know, don't care," Kinenhael said. "Put your thumb on the star and you'll see some quests pop up. Hopefully."

They each did, getting five: "Santa's Helpers", "Candy Canes", "Guiding the Sleigh", "Who Wears the Furry Pants?", and "The Naughty List". Kinenhael looked over them quickly. "Kill ten of Santa's elves. Elves? What the fuck? Why do we have to be the bad guys?"

"I'd like to apologize in advance for killing any of your brothers and sisters," Lyd said.

"They won't be my relatives, since they're not real," he said, still looking ahead through his goggles. "You won't be killing anyone, anyway. You're going to heal Caertonn and maybe me." He popped his goggles up. "We should probably go over that before we start. Let me see your book."

Lyd handed it to him and stood over Kinenhael's shoulder.

"Here are your three basic spells. This is a little one. This is a big one. And this is called a 'HoT' or 'heal over time'. It heals a little bit over the course of ten seconds. You'll figure out when to use them. Let's practice. Uh, Caertonn, hit me."

"What? Hit you?"

"Yeah, punch me across the face so I lose some health and Lyd can-" Caertonn slugged him across the jaw. "Ah! What the...?"

"You said to hit you."

"Yeah, I thought you were going to hesitate a little more, maybe a little 'oh, no, I can't hit you, you're my best friend!'. Okay, Lyd, do you see here how my health bar is now lower?"

"Yes."

"Use the little spell to heal me."

"Uh..."

"Sorry, I forgot. Open up your book. We're going to work on streamlining your spells.” After a few minutes where Caertonn read up on the information given about the grotto, Kine said, “Okay, now load the spell into your staff, press the button, and point at me."

After a little fumbling, Lyd pointed his staff at Kinenhael. A faint green, sparkling mist enveloped his chest and shoulders for a moment, then disappeared. "Good," Kinenhael said.

"All right," Caertonn said. "So, I will brute...brute? Is that a verb? Anyway, I will brute and Kinenhael will help with ranged while you heal, Lyd. Are we ready?"

They didn't see anyone else lined up and waiting, so they went underneath the big sign with candy canes. It was snowing here instead of raining, and though the air was dry, it wasn't cold. Snow covered the ground and the pine trees that lined the walkway. An arrow pointed right and they turned to see a little man in a pointy hat and green clothing. "I'm going to give you coal!" he said, bounding forward.

"Go, Curt! It's a bad guy!"

Caertonn drew his foil and poked the man lightly in the chest. While he turned his attention solely to Caertonn, he also lost no health.

"You have to hurt it," Kinenhael said. "It's just a mook, a bad guy."

Caertonn sighed and jammed his foil into the little guy. "He's squishy. This feels weird."

A bomb exploded next to the little man. "I'm going to give you coal!" it said, hitting Caertonn with a candy cane.

"Ow!" he said, before poking the man again.

He felt a pleasant chill down his neck and the pain from the blow vanished. He stabbed the man once more and he fell over with a dramatic moan.

"There. One fight done. Good job, guys," Kinenhael said. "Now we...The fuck? What the fuck, that was an elf? Fuck you, no sir, that was a piece of shit!" he yelled at no one in particular. "That little bitch was an annoying shit stain. Do I say 'I'm going to give you coal'? Fuck, no, I do not!"

"Okay, Kine," Caertonn said, "calm down. Maybe it's a broad category, like when they say eagles and finches are both birds."

"The fuck you say? You think I resemble that asshole?" he asked, pointing at the corpse.

"Well, you both have pointy ears," Lyd offered. "And little noses. And sharp eyes with long lashes. And-"

"Fuck you, that thing is an abomination!"

"All right, Kine, get over it and help me kill more of them."

The Christmas elves were every twenty feet or so along the path. Killing them grew easier every time they spouted the same line about giving coal or "I'm going to make Sally a choo-choo!".

They came to a cordoned off area with a reindeer in the middle. "No," Caertonn said, "it was hard enough killing them with my dad when I was little. I can't do it now."

"Curt, it's not a real deer. It's a fake one. And even if it were, it's going to resurrect in ten minutes anyway."

"But, it's cute."

The reindeer nuzzled its nose into the snow, finding a clump of grass and nibbling on it. Occasionally it looked around, its big, soulful eyes calmly surveying the area while its red nose glowed with a cherry light.

"All right, so it's cute. It also will give us a metric fuck-ton of experience points. Lyd can get better spells and not be a level two healer. He could be a level three. Think about it."

"I know. I'll do it, but I'm not going to feel good about it." He put his foil ahead of him in an open stance and stepped across the line into the area.

The reindeer immediately began bucking its hind quarters, growing drastically in size. "Laugh and call me names, will you?" a disembodied voice said. "Let me show you my reindeer games!"

"Oh, that's okay..." Caertonn began, until he realized the reindeer was charging at Lyd. He intercepted the charging deer and stabbed it in the chest. Its fury turned onto him and Caertonn began attacking in earnest.

"On Blitzen!" the voice yelled and a crack of lightning hit Caertonn.

"Argh! Lyd, heal me!"

"I'm out of mana!" the minotaur said.

"What, how? Never mind, just heal me when you can!"

He continued to parry and thrust against the reindeer, whose eyes were glowing as red as its nose.

"On Dasher!" the voice yelled and the reindeer charged in, scraping Caertonn's stomach with his antlers. He heaved his breath in, falling to his knees.

"Lyd," he wheezed. "Anything?"

There was a tingle and he felt a little better. He rose, his shaky hand holding his foil out in front of him. The reindeer just so happened to attack them, spearing himself on the weapon and critically injuring himself.

"On Comet!"

"Fuck, no!" Kinenhael shouted. "Move, Caertonn!"

Caertonn instinctively dove to his right and rolled just in time to avoid getting hit by a meteor. He turned and ran right at the reindeer, still feeling a tiny bit terrible at killing him, but feeling tired and ready to end the fight much more.

And he ran the fucker through.

"He'll go down in history..." the voice said, fading.

Caertonn was panting, but grinning through his pain. He turned just in time to see Lyd heal him.

"Thanks, Lyd, but the fight is done."

"I thought you might want to feel better."

"Well, yes, but I can recover my health on my own now that the battle is done. How did you run out of mana?"

"I made sure your health was high."

"Ah," Kinenhael said. "You only really need to heal someone once their health bar starts to get around the halfway mark, especially on easy fights like this."

"It's hard to tell where that is. I have to look down at my book, then hit the right spell on my staff, then point it at Caertonn."

"Yeah, I think the portable Yui'ais for healers make it much easier. They're rings or cuffs on your arms that create a portal that allows you to see in front of you. We'll get you one as soon as we can. For now, just wait a little bit. Caertonn can take a few hits before you need to help him."

Caertonn tapped the corpse of the reindeer and a bag formed underneath. He pulled it out and opened it. "Six coppers, three alus, a knife, and, oh, a healer wand. Here you go, Lyd."

"A wand?' he asked, his eyes widening.

"Yes. This will be a little less unwieldy than the staff."

They stepped out of the cordoned area, Lyd fascinated with his new tool. They killed four more of what Kinenhael called the "pointy fuckers" and moved on to another gated section. This was a lovely, open, wooden room showing only two sides with a fireplace crackling in the background. Braided rugs adorned the floor and cross-stitched pillows were piled on the sofa. An older woman in red crocheted something, humming to herself.

"Hello?" Caertonn asked. "Can you tell us where the next boss is?"

"I think she is the next boss," Kinenhael said.

"You want me to stab a little, old lady? I know, I know, she's a 'bad guy', but she looks completely harmless. It would be like kicking a puppy." He sighed and stepped over the line.

The fire roared as the woman rose, shucking off the shawl around her shoulders. "Who dares disturb my husband?" she asked, her voice sounding like five women speaking at the same time. "Don't you know it's Christmas Eve?"

"Sorry?" Caertonn apologized before he remembered that he was in a battle. He took his stance and waited as the woman finished her transformation from an old, pleasant woman to a dangerous harpy. Her white hair pulled out of her bun, spilling long white strands that haloed around her head. Red wings with white tufts unfurled as she took off, her talons taking a few cursory swipes towards Caertonn.

"I was not expecting that," Kinenhael said.

"Okay, we'll get her. We just..." He felt the tell-tale tingle on his neck. "Why did you heal me?"

"Sorry!" Lyd said. "I got nervous."

"I got this," Kinenhael said. "Don't heal until I tell you to, all right?"

She continued to hover, swooping down every ten seconds or so to take a swipe at Caertonn. Kinenhael was able to throw a bomb and hit her, but he began to receive her attention and couldn't do enough damage to brute the woman.

Caertonn looked around. What he needed was a net of some sort, something to jettison and tangle her to the ground.

"Curt, my friend, I need a little help!" Kinenhael said, fending off the harpy.

And that's when he spotted the shawl. He ran into the living room, gathered the garment, and ran back to the battle. "Hey!" he said. She turned towards him as he threw the shawl on her. She crashed to the ground, screeching and thrashing. He ran over and began stabbing her, squinting his eyes to blur the action so he didn't have to think so hard on what he was doing.

She freed herself and threw off the shawl. "Great job, buddy!" Kinenhael said. "Two more times and she's dead!"

This proved to be a little difficult. While she was still susceptible to being netted, she was also more cautious, flying higher and taking fewer risks in her attacks. Caertonn had to time his launch well to catch her.

"No cookies for you!" she screeched as she ceased fighting the netting around her.

"That was a bit fucked up," Kinenhael commented.

"Yeah." Caertonn touched her corpse and pulled the bag from underneath her body. "More coppers and aluminums, a broadsword, and...oh, a bag of cookies. Can I have the cookies?"

"Sure, probably good for health and spirit. Wait, how was she carrying a broadsword?"

"I don't know. Came out of the bag."

"Ho did the bag contain it."

Caertonn shrugged. "Maybe our brute would like it?"

The remaining Christmas elves were quickly dispatched by the now level five Caertonn. They were almost at the last area when they heard a crunching sound from behind them. Kinenhael and Caertonn turned and saw the last bit of a white and red striped stick disappear into Lyd's mouth.

"You've been eating the fucking quest items!" Kinenhael said. "Argh! That's why I haven't seen any!"

"I'm sorry but I was hungry and they were tasty."

"How many do we need? Twenty? Fuck that, I'm not killing any more pointy fuckers in order to get them. We need to get sixty candy canes." He sighed. "Let's see how far back we can go and get as many as possible before those giggling shits show up again. Maybe one of us can finish the quest."

They ripped apart trees, shoveled snow with their hands, and even pulled a few off from barriers, but they finally found all the canes they needed. "Great," Kinenhael said. "Let's finish this before it gets dark and we have to camp in pitch black."

In another open room, a plump man in white-trimmed red sat at a desk, spending a few minutes working on a toy, then donning spectacles to read something. He was rotund, bearded, and so very disarming. That was until Caertonn stepped over the threshold.

"Naughty!" the man shouted and stood to face them. His skin, once a cheery pink, was now an angry red.

Caertonn attacked first, not waiting for him to turn into a bird or a snowman or whatever else was appropriate. The jolly, fat man didn't do much, just stood there taking hits from Caertonn's foil and the occasional bomb from Kinenhael.

"How am I doing?" Caertonn asked after about five minutes.

"Uh, his health has changed at all."

"What? I've hit him about a hundred times!"

"He's still at one hundred percent."

"What am I doing wrong?"

"I don't know...wait. I'm getting something. 'If you need help with this boss, tap here.' Okay. 'Buried in the following poem lies the order in which you need to hit Saint Nicholas.' Okay. Give me a second." Caertonn heard him murmuring as he read. "'His eyes- how they twinkled!' Okay, his eyes first, Curt! Then...dimples."

Caertonn wanted to hurl, but he stabbed the man in the eyes, then next to his mouth. "This is really precise."

"Yeah. Uh, cheeks, nose, mouth, beard...maybe his pipe? Then his belly."

At the last thrust, the old man roared and ran back to his den. He opened a large sack and began tossing toys at them. "You're on the naughty list!" he yelled. After a few seconds of abusing the party, he grabbed an oversized wooden sword and began fighting in earnest against Caertonn.

"His health is halfway!" Kinenhael said. "Keep it up!"

The boss turned and climbed up the outside of the house and down the chimney. When he came out, he grabbed another sword and began fighting again.

"Argh, he's up to three-quarters health! Don't let him go down the chimney."

The next time he tried to run, Caertonn put himself between the fat man and the house. Forced to fight, he pulled out a whip and began cracking it. "Mush, mush!" he yelled.

Finally, finally, after a long, fifteen-minute fight and a desperate need for more mana, the fat man fell over and wheezed, "Christmas is ruined!"

"Okay, I'm done," Kinenhael said. "We need to go find a place to camp and I need food and a smoke. Let's go."

The three received cash, Eod tokens, and a few items. Caertonn got a new foil, this one with added agility and damage. And, of course, they all got experience, which leveled each up and also made them wary of fat people in white and red fur for the future.

It was dark by the time they made camp off the road. Lyd made stew and Kinenhael blitzed himself to Christmas plaid. He laughed once and said, “I'm going to give you coal” before dozing off.

The next morning, Caertonn awoke on edge. Lyd and Kinenhael were still asleep. He looked around and sighed in relief when the cheery dawn betrayed no bold or greedy men. He was proud of his new foil, the first item upgrade he'd gotten.

They turned north after a few miles. It was at that point Caertonn realized that his friends and he, to be honest, were quieter than normal. "What do you think Breithart is going to be like?"

"Can't be worse than a level one," Kinenhael said. "Maybe you'll have to spar to get him up to level two."

"If his name is anything to go by, I think he will be a good man. It sounds like 'bright heart'," Lyd offered.

"It does. I just hope he's not a bully," Caertonn said.

"Yeah, brutes tend to be a certain kind of people," Kinenhael said. "Some are nice, but most like violence and fights."

"Well, we'll see soon. Zelma isn't far from..."

Caertonn stopped as he looked up from his map. In the road ahead was a figure in head-to-toe gleaming metal leaning on the pommel of a down-turned broadsword. The other two noticed and slowed their paces.

The figure wore a close helmet with a red, trailing plume coming off the crest that ran down the center. The rest of the suit fit the man superbly, the breastplate, gorget, pauldrons, vambraces, tassets, greaves, and sabatons all matching without a speck of dirt on them. The whole ensemble was thrown off slightly by a red scarf with green dragons that wrapped around his neck and fluttered in the wind.

"I wonder if we need to pass him in order to get to Breithart," Kinenhael said. "Or do we have to fight him?"

"Neither," Caertonn replied, looking at his map. "That is Breithart."

"Let me say, then, that his armor is amazing. Must have taken him a good week of questing to get a full set. Which means he's not level one!"

As they got closer, the figure made no move to join them or greet them. Caertonn approached him first and cleared his throat. "You're Breithart?"

"I am," he answered in a deep, tinny voice.

"I'm Caertonn Jimson and this is Kinenhael Goldenleaf and Lyd. I believe we were selected by Gilghest to start a journey together."

"He did."

Caertonn looked back at Kinenhael, who shrugged. "So, I guess we should stop in Zelma for supplies and-"

"No, m'lord, I have all the supplies we need," he said, lifting the bag at his side. "We won't be needing to go to Zelma."

"We need some other items, Breithart. Both Lyd and I need Yu'ai viewers and I need to sell an extra broadsword, unless you'd like it."

"I won't need it, m'lord, but I'd be happy to carry it for you. And I have the components for Yu'ai viewers in every class."

"Well, at least he's prepared," Kinenhael said.

"Okay, then. Let's get going. I think we need to go to Metraft next."

Breithart suddenly genuflected, startling Caertonn. "M'lord, I would like to give you my pledge. I promise to protect you and any other members of our group. I promise to preserve your honor and status by helping our group become the best in Balobaer. I promise to be dutiful and obedient, always listening to your wise instruction." He held his pinkie out as the four linked for their full party.

"Thank you, Breithart, but you didn't need to do that. And you don't have to call me 'm'lord'. I'm not a noble or anything. And you don't have to wear your armor. We won't be getting to a dungeon any time soon and Pokore isn't that dangerous."

"Thank you, sir," he said, but only sheathed his sword.

Caertonn turned and began walking back the way they had come to the main road. Surprisingly, the armor made little sound and Breithart strode as easily as any of the others.

"May I ask what happened to Therpis Strondeivian?" Breithart asked.

"Unfortunately, he was captured by minotaurs and eaten," Caertonn answered. Breithart turned and looked back at Lyd. "No, Lyd doesn't eat humans, so he wasn't a part of that. And he helped us leave the village, which had gotten quite misty and smoky. He asked to be our healer and we agreed."

"I see."

"Is there a problem with that?"

"No, sir."

"Lyd is doing his best as healer. We just did a grotto last night."

"He's a bit of an oom-moo and he has performance anxiety, but he's getting better," Kinenhael added.

"Grotto? Santa's Workshop?"

"Yeah, that one," Caertonn said.

"Tis a strange place."

"Very much so." He was about to ask Breithart about himself when he heard the sound of leaves rustling as five men walked out from the forest.

"Bonjour, gentlemen," Ranenc the Bold said.

"Fuuuuuck," Kinenhael said, his shoulders slumping dramatically. "We just managed to earn a little cash, too."

"I'm sorry, Breithart," Caertonn said, unslinging his pack. "We've run into these guys before and they seem to be targeting us. They'll probably want your armor and all your supplies."

"Targeting?" he asked.

"They found us yesterday morning and evening. Each time they took all our money, supplies, and weapons. I lost a set of ranger gear that was a gift and Kine lost all the engineering equipment he had for our trip."

"I see."

Breithart walked forward until he was surrounded by the Greedy Guild. "What eez eet zat yar brute eez doing?" Ranenc asked.

"Getting himself killed. Look, just ignore him. We'll give you all the money and things we got at the grotto."

Breithart unsheathed his sword, then tapped something on his left forearm. The suit of armor he was wearing began to morph, changing from a polished, ornamental look to something more viscous with spikes and harsh corners. The sword changed, too, the blade detaching from the hilt, which stretched until the weapon had shifted into a scythe.

"Ah, ze metal man wants to play!" Ranenc said, cocking his arm forward. Four arrows loosed and pinged off Breithart's armor.

"My turn," the brute said. He ran as if he weren't wearing anything heavier than drabs. With a grunt, he swung the scythe in an arc, hitting each of the Greedy Guild one after the other. Each fell with a scream and didn't move.

"What...just happened?" Kinenhael asked Caertonn, who stared at each other, then back at the pile of men, then back at each other.

"M'lord, I've dispatched the highwaymen for you. Would you like to retrieve your items?"

"Huh?"

"Your money and things. You might be able to regain them."

"Oh, uh. Yes. Sure." Caertonn walked over and touched the corpse of Ranenc, who looked much less imposing without his guild backing him up and being dead and all. A bag formed below and he pulled it out, opening it to find everything that had been stolen from them. He almost cried.

"Smythe!" Kinenhael said, his arms wide open as the shuttler returned to him. "I've missed you!"

"Thank you, Breithart. We really appreciate this."

"Not a problem, m'lord. You may want to move away for a few minutes."

"Oh, of course."

Caertonn stood back with the other two as they watched their brute wait. Finally, one of the Greedy Guild stirred, rising only to meet his end once more by the sharpened blade of Breithart's weapon, now a halberd. Each one was killed as he rose, Ranenc falling last.

"Feel free to take more from him, m'lord," Breithart said, holding his weapon in front of him.

"Is that, um, ethical?"

"It is in the code of my god, Apocom. 'And lo, he who is mighty and kills a brother adventurer who is weak and puny shall be marked a ganker. Woe is the ganker who has vengeance wrought upon him, for every instance of a gank will be threefold against him.'"

"Oh, well, we don't need to kill them six times. Twice is plenty. And look," Caertonn said, holding up the bag, "we got a lot of money in this one and some nice equipment!"

"The proper response to a wondrous bounty in Apocommunism is 'woot', often said with great vigor."

"Well then, woot!" Caertonn said, laughing.

When Ranenc and the Greedy Guild awoke again, Breithart stood to protect the three other members of his party. The thieves slunk away as quickly as they could, keeping their eyes on the armored man.

Breithart turned at the sound of laughter. Caertonn was pulling a pistol out of the bag with one hand and an eyepatch out with the other. "Yes! I get a viewer!"

"M'lord, we may want to clear this area should anyone else pass through with foul intentions."

"You're right. We should try to hit Metraft by tonight." He turned and saw Kinenhael flicking his goggles with his fingers. "What?"

"I think they're broken. They say that Breithart is level twenty-eight."

"I am."

"It says you have three ultra diamonds."

"I do."

Kinenhael lifted up his goggles. "Fucking...how? I don't think the King of Simetti has three diamonds."

"I have been training for this journey most of my life."

"Why? I mean, I get that every man has to have his hobbies, but we're just a party that was put together by some wizard two years ago."

It was hard to read his expression behind the mask, but a slight tilt of the head very likely signified confusion. "Because I am a Breithart, and Breitharts have been tasked by Gilghest the Great to protect and serve the Chosen One."

"Okay, but what does that have to do with us?"

The head tilt somehow got deeper, no mean feat in a close helm. "Because Caertonn is the Chosen One."

Kinenhael looked at his friend, then back at Breithart. "No, I've seen his Book of Yu'ai. All of his pages are normal. And Gilghest didn't say anything to me about teaming with the Chosen One."

"If I may, sir?" Breithart asked Caertonn, holding out his gauntleted hand. Caertonn fished out his book and handed it to the brute, who pulled a very thin knife from a his bag. He opened the book and jammed the knife in the middle of the width of the back binding. After wiggling it a few times, the binding came apart and revealed a gold page. "I was told it would be hidden so that he could find protection first."

"What does this mean, being the 'Chosen One'?" Lyd asked.

Kinenhael laughed. "It means we're going to have a lot more fun than I expected."