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A race of tiny, magical beings lives on Earth today. They dwell in elaborate tree homes and mysterious underground sanctuaries. They are kirins.

For thousands of years they lived in peace, but a deadly menace now threatens their very existence. In the central part of North America, two kirin clans dispatch a party of daring explorers, led by the magician Speckarin, to confront an evil force a continent and an ocean away. In the first book of this trilogy, KIRINS: The Spell of No'an, the voyagers traveled eastward many thousands of clan dominions over land, and must now seek the sea and a means of crossing it.

And thus begins Book Two.

"Now we are seven," said Speckarin to Ruggum Chamter. They sat in an early morning drizzle, hoods pulled over their heads.

The first to awaken, the old kirins were by the waning fire, the centerpiece of last evening's celebration, embers crackling and sparking, narrow trails of smoke and the scent of woody fumes in the saturated air. Staring into the smoldering glow, they enjoyed the misty rain, the first moisture in days.

Olamin had foretold that their first great obstacle would be the ocean. How to deal with it was on both their minds. The dark-haired Diliani soon joined them, and after greeting Glinivar, the crane, Runagar did also. Before long all members of the party were mingling around the fire, chatting happily. Then they spread out into the surrounding terrain and came back with breakfast.

Relaxing around the fire, they ate and conversed quietly until Speckarin cleared his throat. "Unfortunately, we've no time to waste. Our adversaries won't allow us rest. We must move eastward toward the great body of water called the ocean."

Before departing, they agreed on a V-shaped flight formation with Speckarin in the lead. The youths with the knowledge would fly behind him, Talli to his right, Gilin to his left, Hut and Diliani trailing them, Runagar and Ruggum bringing up the rear.

The rain had stopped but the skies were a chilly gray as the travelers lifted off and climbed to their customary altitude. A quick scan of the hazy atmosphere revealed nothing threatening, and they headed eastward.

The day passed uneventfully, leaving Speckarin's mind free to wander, and he reflected on the party and its mission. It all began, he thought, with Olamin giving Talli and Gilin the knowledge that attracts deadly beings like gronoms. Hut, brave lad, killed two of them before we left home. And Ruggum, my old friend, couldn't stay at home after the clan selected Diliani instead of him. She and the Shillitoe, Runagar, with his magic voice, have become an inseparable pair. And lastly there's me, the unlikely leader of an extraordinary band of warriors.

When they landed among trees for the night, Ruggum went to Speckarin. They climbed a tree trunk, sat down on a branch, and spoke privately.

"What have you learned about the mission?" asked the overseer.

"Precious little," said the magician, "little more than I knew before we left home."

Ruggum glanced down at the crane and smiled. "Tell me more about Runagar and the elegant creature he pilots."

The magician eyed him. "I'm hardly certain 'elegant' describes her. Perhaps ungainly? Borrowed from a tribe neighboring the Shillitoes, she might not look it on the ground, but she's a strong flyer."

Ruggum gazed at her. "I noted that today."

"Perhaps the most interesting thing of all is that—according to her owners—hers is the oldest still-living species of bird in the world."

Ruggum raised his eyebrows.

Speckarin told him about the Shillitoe queen, her magician brother killed by gronoms, and her desire to contribute to the travelers' cause. He told of Runagar's voice. "Lanara said he could be heard over great distances. Astonishingly, that happened when he got through to you and Gilin. She said he can use his voice to persuade and influence, and—amazingly—imitate any living thing: bird, beast, kirin, or human. It seems almost too much to believe, but we'll see. Let's hope it will be of value."

"Observing this Glinivar," said Ruggum, "brings to mind a matter you brought up this morning. I haven't discussed it with Gilin, and it appears he won't discuss it. We must traverse this ocean. None of us has seen one or anything like it. But from the geography we learned as children, oceans are immense. Ravens could never cross one, especially with us on their backs, as well as food and water for ilon and master alike." He nodded toward the crane. "Would a bird like that be suitable?"

Speckarin shook his head. "I've had little time to think about anything but getting us this far. But I've got a burning question to ask you. What was it like being so close to humans, and for so long a time?"

"At first my distaste for them was profound and stifling. But we had to work with them or suffer disaster. Respect and goodwill grew among us, especially between me and the old one."

"It's hard to believe."

"Here's something even harder to believe. I made myself visible to him."

Gazing at his old compatriot in complete amazement, Speckarin couldn't say a word. Then he collected himself. "What brought that on? How in the world did it feel?"

"He wanted to see me, and I wanted him to. How did it feel? Like humans and kirins should be together again."

The old kirins eventually parted and found tree holes for the night, Speckarin relaxing in his, fascinated by what his friend had said. And, unbeknownst to either, a seed had just been planted deep within him about humans. As time went on he thought about them often, even at inopportune and illogical times, because an ancient primal desire was awakened. Ruggum had felt it, a yearning originating with kirin-human association long ago, coming to fruition when he made himself visible to John Versteeg.

The party flew uneventfully for three more days, resting overnight in trees. The prospect of taking on a formidable and intimidating ocean continued to bother Ruggum and Speckarin, but they pushed on, having no alternative.

On the fifth day they entered territories more densely populated by humans than they had ever encountered. Buildings, roadways, and moving vehicles were seen with growing and alarming frequency. Speckarin directed the party away from anything looking dangerous, as Ruggum had with Gilin when he suspected the lad might be visible. But it all looked dangerous here, and they nervously went around settlements and groups of buildings all afternoon.

The following day was no better, the land crisscrossed with roads and dotted with human communities. After expending much time and effort in skirting these sites, Speckarin declared they must abandon such maneuvers. "We simply must move eastward, and ignore what's below until these settlements are behind us."

We must also ignore what's above, he thought, glancing up. Enormous winged machines, some blowing white trails of smoke, had been seen for several days, but now appeared more often and eventually became commonplace. The kirins discussed these leviathans, knowing they were for transportation, astounded by their might and grace.

Smaller winged craft, cruising lower than the huge ones, were also seen more frequently and were more a cause for concern. On one occasion one of these appeared to be heading directly toward the tiny convoy. Speckarin called for immediate descent and the machine passed thunderously overhead and moved noisily away. The kirins regrouped and were unharmed. But the incident made them more apprehensive than ever about traveling through these skies.

When a wooded area appeared ahead with a peaceful brook coursing through it, the magician called for a halt earlier in the day than usual. Passing a restless night by the cool stream, they wondered whether they were finally out of the domain of humans, and when they would reach the giant water.

The next morning was sunny when they departed, and they were pleased that the stream took an easterly course. Joined by other tributaries as they flew above it, the burgeoning current widened and swelled. Soon, flowing through wild and rocky country, it was a river.

But as the morning wore on, they were not happy to be re-entering human territory, which became ever more densely populated. Finally there was nothing but human settlement as far as the eye could see. The friendly channel beneath now wound its way through zone after zone of buildings and roadways.

The party was forced to go higher, despite the frequent appearance of small flying machines, because the buildings were ever taller, and eventually the travelers were flying higher than they ever had. It was midday, and Speckarin wondered where they would find food, for themselves and the ravens, or any sanctuary for rest. Then something happened that caused those concerns to pale by comparison.

Talli's raven suddenly shuddered and faltered, struggling in midair as he had once before. Talli couldn't control him, and she—and the others who previously witnessed it—knew immediately what was happening.

"There!" cried Diliani, spying them coming from the north, the others looking quickly in the direction she pointed. A pair of dreaded creatures were careening toward them at breakneck speed. On each smooth body were two sets of stubby wings, beating with no apparent coordination, yet propelling the beasts at an astounding speed.

"Volodons!" shouted Speckarin. "Follow me!"

"Talli!" cried Gilin, terrified that this time she might be the one captured.

Speckarin swerved his raven southward and commanded utmost acceleration, the others following as rapidly as they could, the formation in disarray. Talli and her ilon were in their midst again flying normally.

Speckarin glanced back and saw to his horror that the trackers were nearer than the two had been when the previous chase began. They'll soon be upon us. But who are they after—Gilin, Talli, or both youngsters with the knowledge?

The fearless pursuers were now close enough for Speckarin to see their faces, and he stared. Like gronoms, their earth-bound counterparts, the creatures' heads were stark and bare. They had no ears, eyes, nose, or mouth, only smooth and featureless faces.

Despite every effort to reach Talli, Gilin was at the rear of the fleeing group, and dropping back to protect him was Ruggum Chamter. The monsters were now beside them, but paid Gilin no attention, passing by and moving into the pack.

It's Talli they hunt, thought Speckarin, and Talli alone.

The beleaguered girl trailed him, and he slowed to allow her to take the lead.

Seeing that Gilin had been spared, Diliani and Hut edged their birds toward Talli. Ashen as the first volodon approached, she thought of Reydel, Gilin and Hodorvon, seized by gronoms, and what happened to each. She, too, had seen the volodons bypass Gilin, and knew she alone was their prey.

Toward the rear of the pack, Speckarin withdrew from his bag the slender, gleaming device he had used during the first volodon attack. While taking aim at the lead creature's head, his ilon was struck a heavy blow by the trailing creature and sent sprawling into a tailspin. The magician held on firmly until the bird regained control, but they had lost valuable time and positioning.

The beast had recognized that this kirin intended to interfere with its counterpart, and intervened. But then it, too, continued its grim pursuit of Talli.

As the first attacker was passing Diliani, she swerved her ilon toward it, knife upraised and gleaming in the sun. But before she struck, the creature veered sideways—by intent or not—colliding with her ilon, thrusting them off course.

Hut leaned toward the monster with blade overhead, and his stroke was as true as that night on Rogalinon. A dark, unsavory fluid spurted from the back of the beast's head. It turned on the youth with all the force left in its body, but could only paw at him before descending harmlessly toward Earth.

The second volodon was extending primitive claws to seize the petrified Talli when a voice rang through the air.

"Tay lassis obilan!" cried Speckarin, who had struggled back into the fray and held his weapon high. A bolt of piercing energy flashed from its tip and struck the beast in the soft part of its head.

Fatally injured, the being recoiled, then stiffened, and its wings ceased to beat. As it began to fall, its claws grasped for anything and found the left wing of Talli's raven. The dying enemy clung to it tenaciously, neutralizing its movement and dragging it downward.

Talli clung to the bird as all three, the creature, the raven, and she began to fall. Faralan beat his right wing gamely and attempted to wrest himself from the creature's death grasp. But to no avail.

As they descended and slowly picked up speed, they began turning, Faralan's right wing gliding on the outside, the beast rotating at the center.

Following them down, the others watched as an incredible drama unfolded. And later, when kirins anywhere talked of heroism, this exploit was cited as uncommonly brave.

Ruggum dove after Talli, and approached her calling instructions to his raven. "Follow the free wing down, get as close to the entangled bird as possible, then fly steadily."

The great bird did, and when Ruggum was near enough he boarded Faralan and settled behind Talli.

Then in a flash but what seemed an eternity, he leaned to his left, knife in hand, and cut the dead creature's loathsome extremities. Unable to reach far enough to cut them completely, he loosened his grip on the bird and—to the onlookers' amazement and alarm—began creeping along the revolving and undulating wing. Staying low on the wind-blown and feathery surface, under conditions of utmost peril he labored outward until reaching the beast's remaining digits, where he resumed his gruesome task.

With the last remnant of a lifeless claw painstakingly cut, the creature fell heavily away, and the liberated wing was suddenly swept upward, Ruggum holding on for dear life.

"Glide!" he called to Faralan. "Do not beat this wing!"

Turning, he edged his precarious way back toward the bird's neck. Grasping it with hands, then agile feet, he was again astride the raven, now in front of Talli.

Neither wing was beating and they were gliding as Speckarin and the others arrived, but the left wing appeared damaged and the bird was trembling.

Ruggum patted and stroked his neck. "You'll be all right and your mistress is unharmed. I'll direct you to the ground. You must drift and try not to climb or accelerate." He feared flapping the good wing would influence the delicate balance of controlled flight.

He turned to Speckarin. "We must land." He called to Alsinam, his raven, "Follow us to the ground."

The magician surveyed the landscape below. They were above a gigantic city, with building after building, avenue after avenue. Where will we land? he wondered.

And then he saw something. Nestled in the heart of the metropolis, among the tallest buildings, was—miraculously—a tiny island of green.

"There!" he called, pointing. It had trees and grass, or so it seemed from this height, and despite the hazards of landing among humans he directed the party toward it.

They circled gradually downward, the magician searching the green meadow for a place to touch down, and also for humans who might intrude upon them when they did. Near one corner of the welcome oasis stood a grove of tall evergreens. "Land amid the trees," he said.

Touching down, they searched in every direction for humans they knew must be nearby.

Thankfully, none were seen. But penetrating their hiding place from beyond the trees came persistent, dissonant, and frightening noises—swishing, honking, whirring, squealing, blaring—all unfamiliar and occasionally jarring, coming from row upon row of vehicles providing humans transportation.

The travelers had seen humans' vehicles on numerous occasions from the air, but here they were so close, moving noisily to and fro at the edge of the grassy refuge, that the kirins gazed in awe. It was exciting but frightening, and they shrank from it, instinctively closing ranks to be nearer one another.

They were partially protected from view by the trees' low-hanging boughs. The noise is disturbing, thought Speckarin, but at least for the moment we're safe.

He slid off his raven and went to Faralan. Ruggum and Diliani were already inspecting the wing, a shaken Talli standing by.

Gilin took her hand and spoke quietly, "We escaped."

"For now," she uttered, lips pale and quivering. "They'll be back."

"I'm so glad we're together again."

"Perhaps that heightens their fervor for capture, and perhaps not. They ignored you. They seek me."

Ruggum was finished examining the wing. "Nothing broken," he said in a low voice. "No open wounds like Loana had. Despite the strain suffered, he might be ready to fly in a short while."

Speckarin was delighted, but then remembered where they were and that Gilin was visible to humans. "What, may I ask, is a short while? We're in the thick of a human settlement. We might be discovered at any moment."

Ruggum eyed him coolly. "I know where we are. We must wait and see how the wing recovers. It might take a few days, or he could be ready tomorrow."

"Perhaps I might hasten the healing with a spell," said Speckarin, "as I did with Loana."

But all talk ceased and the kirins froze, because coming into view under the boughs were the feet of two human beings running directly toward them.

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As the rapid footsteps approached, the kirins could do nothing. Then, to their great relief, the giant feet veered away, passing closely by, but avoiding them and their evergreen sanctuary. Another human was approaching from the opposite direction, also running, and again to their relief, went harmlessly by without breaking stride.

A group of humans appeared, walking on the same course as the previous ones, and they too passed by. More and more humans came and went, and it became alarmingly clear to the kirins, who remained silent and motionless, that they had landed near a trail for the giants. But they were also encouraged, because they were apparently not being detected.

A jingling behind them caused them to turn quickly. A giant darkly-hued animal was sniffing beneath the boughs, something at its neck producing the sound. The kirins had been concentrating so completely on the humans and their vehicles that they—uncharacteristically—didn't notice the creature approaching. When it saw them its ears pricked up. It produced a deep-throated growl, and they froze in terror. Human feet moved near the beast. When the human spoke, a cord attached to a band around the animal's neck became taut. The creature took a last look at the kirins and sauntered unhappily away with its master.

Realizing how perilous their situation was, the kirins remained still. It's fortunate, thought Speckarin, eying the shadowy glade, we're to some extent hidden. Strange such a haven should exist in the heart of a human city. Unless one peers beneath the boughs, we might be safe.

He glanced at the immense Glinivar. With a cherry-red crown and a gray body starkly lighter than the black ravens', she was anything but camouflaged by slender pine needles. In the past few days he had seen ravens, crows, and many other kinds of birds, but no sandhill crane. Concerned about Gilin's visibility and Glinivar, he spoke in a whisper, "We must move to the middle of the grove."

Stealthily they did, kirins and birds. Runagar positioned Glinivar beside a tree trunk where she seemed better hidden.

Speckarin drew Ruggum aside. "I'm afraid that's all we can do, unless we climb the trees. But Glinivar wouldn't, and might be even more obvious there."

"In case of emergency," said the elder, "it's better for all of us to be together and on the ground."

"I'd like to transmit a healing spell to Faralan, but don't like the idea of being in a trance in a place where bad things could happen quickly." He glanced about. "But we need sentries to watch for danger."

Ruggum nodded.

Speckarin dispatched Diliani, Hut, Talli, and Runagar to the borders of their refuge to keep watch, and the party spent the remainder of an incredible day observing humans discreetly from their hiding place and awaiting Faralan's recovery. Ruggum periodically checked him, and he was not ready to fly.

Despite their apprehensions, by dusk they were hungry, but little food was found for kirin or ilon.

The steady passage of humans began to decrease, darkness settled in to protect the travelers further, and the lookouts were called back. Despite the kirins' inclination to sleep above ground, these pines had no holes, and they had to spend the night on the ground.

Young Hut was hungry, and suggested they explore farther, perhaps the surrounding region. Speckarin said no. In an emergency, the searchers' separation from their ilon could prove catastrophic. As the evening wore on, the kirins settled themselves among twigs and pine needles on the ground and tried to sleep, Ruggum near Speckarin.

The air became cool, and they were hardly as snug or comfortable as they would have been in tree holes. But nothing serious bothered them as they tried to rest.

Hut awoke from a dream about the gathering fire on Rogalinon, longing for its comforting warmth and the affection of family and clan. With emptiness in both heart and stomach, he gradually drifted to sleep.

Speckarin awoke with a start and was immediately alert to their predicament—trapped and surrounded by humans. Stirring quietly, he saw rays of the first sunlight filtering through evergreen boughs undulating in a morning breeze, and was startled to hear, even this early, vehicles and human feet passing by.

Ruggum lay awake next to him. The magician glanced at him and spoke quietly, "I've never seen an act of greater courage and daring than you carried out yesterday. My old friend, the clan voted that you remain home, but I'm very glad you came."

Ruggum stared ahead and said nothing. Since delivering Gilin to Speckarin's party, he had felt a measure of remorse about joining the quest on his own, wondering whether the home clans could use his experience more than the travelers. But Speckarin's comments now were reassuring, and he reminded himself he was here, not there, and nothing could change that.

Recalling the reunion several nights earlier after the two parties came together, Speckarin thought how similar it was to gatherings at home. He pictured Rogalinon and his clan. How good it would feel to be there.

"I was thinking of friends at home," said Ruggum softly. "Is there a chance we might reach them through Talli's ring or your calamar? You contacted Gilin with both."

Speckarin was surprised they were thinking the same thing. He shook his head. "It would be risky business at best. The transmission might well be intercepted by gronoms or other creatures that would endanger us, perhaps even the clans. But I'd like to know how they are." He paused. "Duan has a device similar to a calamar, a sondilor, but I never knew him to use it. It might be..." His voice trailed off. It would be too hazardous, he thought. Our enemies are waiting to pounce on us.

The other kirins soon awoke, and more people passed by, and a second day of waiting had begun.

Diliani and Ruggum examined Faralan's wing and found it surprisingly better. "Soon ready for flight, I believe," the elder told Speckarin. "But not so soon that it's re-injured."

Though hungry, the travelers were hopeful. Again they posted scouts on four sides of their strange encampment.

In the middle of the morning, something thoroughly alarmed them. Diliani, a sentry, heard feet shuffling through moist grass, then saw a human. Retreating to the others, she quietly pointed him out, and the remaining sentries were called back. They all saw him through branches working his way toward them, clad in dark blue and brandishing a long, slender weapon tipped by a sharp metal spike. When the instrument flicked out, directed skillfully by the giant, the pronged end punctured debris scattered on the turf and transferred it to a receptacle at his side.

The instrument was a deadly matter to the kirins, as threatening as the gigantic form wielding it. Speckarin wondered whether something had gone wrong with no'an, making them visible. Perhaps the human was impaling the debris for practice. Maybe everything he had heard and feared about humans was true, and this one was about to skewer them as choice morsels of food.

But the immense being wandered slowly by and then away, continuing his disquieting work until he was out of sight.

Shortly thereafter the party was discovered when a new group of humans approached. Two were adults, and two were small and immature, much more so, thought Ruggum, than Christopher and Nathan Perry. These two were about the size of the small girl who saw Gilin near the pond. As the newcomers skirted the edge of the trees, a little boy bent over, then squatted down to look under the branches. He got up quickly.

"Grandpa, big black birds!" he said excitedly.

All four were promptly on hands and knees peering in the kirins' direction.

Wondering where Gilin was, Speckarin looked and of course saw no sign of him, and could only hope he was out of sight.

"What kind of bird's that," asked the little girl, "the tall gray one with long legs?"

"I'll be darned," said the elderly male. "I've read about them but never seen one. A sandhill crane. See the red crown? They're never in this part of the country."

"What're the black ones?" asked the girl. "Crows?"

"Bigger than crows, honey," said the man. "They're ravens."

"Why would a crane be under trees with ravens?" asked the silver-haired woman. "What are any of them doing here?"

"The crane may be hurt," said the man. "But it looks all right. Maybe it's off course, lost. Something's got to be wrong."

"We should notify the Audubon Society," said the woman. "Do they have a center here?"

"They must," said the man. "C'mon kids, let's go find out."

They got up and walked away, but had attracted other people's attention, and by now several more were kneeling and staring in the kirins' direction.

Ruggum, whose English was vastly improved after his stay with humans, spoke quietly to Speckarin, "They believe Glinivar's lost or injured, and intend to bring others to help her."

More people stopped, interested in the huge ravens and the long-limbed crane, all clustered together, and soon the kirins were virtually surrounded by onlookers.

Speckarin could no longer tolerate this intense inspection of his flock. Controlling his anxiety, he spoke calmly, not knowing or caring whether his voice was heard by the humans, "Though Faralan's wing is untested, we must depart. Gilin! I assume you're hidden. Come out now and leave with us. Everyone, go to your ilon and mount them. On a signal from me, we will together move from beneath the trees. As soon as you are beyond the low-hanging branches, lift off quickly. Don't tarry, look back, or wait for anyone else."

Earlier, when the first small human looked under the trees, Gilin had scurried up the nearest one's trunk and remained there. But he heard his name and Speckarin's instructions, and quickly came down and climbed aboard Loana in full view of the surrounding humans.

The other kirins were already on their ilon. Speckarin raised an arm. "Depart now!"

The birds strutted toward the grove's border, the humans watching in amazement, then parting before the strangely behaving creatures, which one by one emerged from the trees and lifted off, Loana among them. "A little man's on that one!" cried a nearby human, pointing.

"What are you talking about?" said another.

The next to last bird out was Faralan. Talli aboard, he stretched his sable wings widely in the sunlight and lifted off as though nothing had happened. Disregarding Speckarin's order, Ruggum had waited to be certain the bird could fly, then he and Alsinam took off.

Many of the humans saw Gilin, the ones nearest pointing and talking excitedly about him, even as he flew upward and away. A larger crowd gathered to hear what had occurred.

"A miniature person—thing—was on the back of one of those birds," said a young man.

"You've got a fertile imagination," smirked a blonde-haired woman.

"Such a tiny face with deep, dark eyes," said an elderly woman. "I've never seen anything like it."

Happening as it had when Gilin was seen by humans at John Versteeg's lodge, those who didn't see him barely believed those who did, even though witnesses described him in detail and corroborated one another's descriptions. The discussion soon became heated. Two policemen arrived on the scene and dispersed the crowd. But several reconvened a short distance away, some insisting they saw a miniature rider on a raven, others scoffing at them.

In the air far above the debate, the kirins were elated to be free. As they resumed their flying formation, to everyone's relief Faralan's wing was behaving perfectly.

"At least that adventure's over," said a delighted Speckarin. "Misadventure is a better term for it. We must continue our search for the ocean. Let's find the river we were following. It's going in the right direction, and might lead us to the sea."

Off they moved to the north, passing over the vast concentration of humans, finding the river and joining its course eastward. They flew above it until late afternoon, when something new appeared ahead, and approaching it they were in awe.

Shimmering before them was a wedge-shaped expanse of blue-black, broadening as they advanced. It was water of a magnitude they had never seen, had barely imagined. On the southern shore, dusky-gray human encampments ran on as far as the eye could see, the northerly aspect wild, green, and studded with trees.

Hut called ahead to Speckarin, "Is it the great water?"

"I'm not certain," said the old magician. "We must move on and see."

The river they had been following emptied quietly into the giant water beneath, and Speckarin directed the party to the northern side of the wide expanse.

They hovered above the shoreline looking for signs of human beings. Seeing none, Speckarin led the group eastward along the bank until he spied an inviting grove of trees, and they descended and touched down.

Famished, having not eaten for two days, both kirins and ilon found substantial quantities of food. After eating the kirins explored the area and discovered many foreign objects, among them crushed metallic containers and scraps of flimsy material—paper, they thought—with unintelligible symbols. They also found pieces of a hard substance of varying colors with sharp edges. Holding these up, they could see through them. All these things, they concluded apprehensively, were evidence that humans had been here, the giants discarding them when they left. But no humans were in sight now.

Uncertain what lay ahead, Speckarin decided they would spend the night here. Despite their disquieting discoveries, they found ample tree holes and settled in.

The magician was on the fringes of sleep throughout a long night. With the welcome dawning of a sunny day, he climbed out of his hole and down to the ground, finding Ruggum Chamter already there.

"We must leave," said Speckarin. "I was uncomfortable all night. I replayed your experiences with humans in my head, trying to reassure myself they would be friendly should we encounter them. It didn't help. Yet I also had a conflicting feeling. I'm somehow drawn to them. Someday I might like to have an experience like you and Gilin had with humans."

Will it happen? wondered Speckarin. He chuckled. Perhaps, if we get through this and I live long enough.

He had no way of knowing, but his time would come, but in a place and context he could never have imagined.

The others soon joined the elders. No one had spent a peaceful night, and all wanted to leave. After eating they took off and flew along the northern edge of the spacious water, widening ever further as they went. And before the morning was over, something they were seeking, something monumental loomed ahead. Shimmering broadly in the sunlight, it spanned the horizon from north to south, and dwarfed the estuary over which they flew.

They were speechless.

The great water, thought Speckarin, we've known about since childhood. We've tried to envision it, and toiled to find it, and finally it's before us.

As a forest-dwelling kirin, he had seen nothing remotely like it. He was mystified and dumbfounded by its vastness. It encompasses the globe, he reminded himself, his gaze passing from right to left across the broad expanse.

We've achieved our first goal, he thought, the end of land, the great water's beginning. We have come this far. We've actually done it!

They edged their way closer, and nothing but shimmering water was ahead. Speckarin was wondering how anything like this could exist, when he glanced about at his small party and something struck home—the enormity of the task ahead.

To reach their ultimate destination, they must pass over this vast dimension, this alien realm, and he was suddenly gripped by a profound misgiving: How will we carry out a feat of such magnitude and daring?

They fluttered aimlessly above the coastline, spellbound, and it was the magician who finally spoke. "We must...land."

Land, he thought. How much longer will I give that command? Once we start across this watery infinity, what command do I give when we need rest, help, or protection? There will be no land.

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The tiny band circled downward and settled on the dry inland half of a frothy, wind-blown beach.

Wheeling and crying in the air above were dozens of brown and white seabirds, a breed the kirins had never seen. The birds were excited and seemed disturbed by this strange party's arrival and intrusion into their coastal domain.

The kirins dismounted and stood on the sandy beach, gazing out at the immense and incomprehensible ocean. A sea breeze picked up, carrying odors they had never before smelled, and one burning question was on Speckarin's mind. What do we do now?

"We have reached our first objective," he said, as enthusiastically as possible, voice rising above the sounds of the waves, gray hair and yellow gown blowing in the wind. "Now, I must ask Talli and Gilin something. I realize you must protect your knowledge. But it's important we know—it's imperative we know—what to do next. We're here. We've run out of land. We must deal with the sea."

The invisible Gilin held Talli's hand, and when he spoke all turned toward his voice. "Olamin told us we must reach this point, this coastline, then cross the ocean, always moving east. He taught us about our destination, but our instructions about reaching it weren't specific, in fact only what I've mentioned. Olamin knew little about this part of the world. He was trying to get here before his quest came to an end."

Speckarin glanced at Ruggum and was silent for a few moments, then looked at Talli and pointed out to sea. "Am I to understand you have no information about how we cross this, how to deal with that monumental problem?"

"I'm afraid not," said Talli. "We know about our destination, little about how to get there."

The magician exploded. "What was he asking three youths to do? Did he know anything about the ocean? Did he recognize the scope of the task at hand?"

Talli and Gilin were silent, surprised by the magician's anger and troublesome questions. The lad spoke, "Perhaps he didn't realize...its full extent."

Speckarin paused, and then his voice was subdued. "As I've long feared, we're on our own."

"We have my calamar," said Gilin. "It'll show the way."

"That's well and good," said Speckarin, voice rising. "But how do we move from this point onward, this sand, this last strip of ground, the continent's rim, to whatever destination might await us?"

No one had an answer.

Speckarin looked down at his feet and the salty sand. Feeling sand between his toes, he said nothing for a long while. He glanced at Talli, then where he thought Gilin to be. "I seem angry at you," said the magician. "I'm not. I'm disturbed by our situation, as we all are. You don't know what to do next. I only hoped you did. We've come this far. We'll find a way to go farther."

How, he thought, I haven't a clue. Perhaps swim.

The others began milling about on the sandy surface, conversing quietly with one another. Speckarin glanced at the ravens who had conveyed the party all this way. Attempting a crossing with them would be hopeless.

Looking at Glinivar, he wasn't so certain. She's a massive bird, he thought, and a strong flyer. Could she make it, with two or three of us on her back? Perhaps. The rest would return home, but at least some would attempt a passage.

Perplexed, the group stood on the windswept beach, afternoon sun beaming down, waves breaking rhythmically over the sand. The setting was beautiful, majestic, but they were in no mood to appreciate it, lost in thought about everything they had been through, what the future held, and home.

Finally Speckarin spoke. "We can't stay here forever. We must look for a campsite and food."

Boarding their ilon, they lifted into the air and headed westward, away from the ocean. They flew above rocky and barren terrain before sighting a meager line of trees, hardly suited to their needs. Passing over more empty land, Speckarin considered flying all the way back to the previous night's grove where food was plentiful, but it was early evening and they needed respite. Coming upon trees they wouldn't normally consider spending the night in, they touched down.

They didn't recognize the species of these tall, thin trees, but accepted them as the best they could find. Spreading out looking for food, they found but a small amount and the birds had no better luck.

Sitting dejectedly in a circle, the kirins ate what they had, their minds occupied by their primary problem. Several options were brought up, including Glinivar carrying a few of them, but that idea was discarded as were others. None seemed plausible. With darkness falling and the evening wearing slowly on, they had no answer.

What holes were found in the slender tree trunks were too small for them, and the travelers passed an uneasy night at the foot of the trees.

Speckarin stayed awake considering the disturbing possibility that they might have to turn back, that the quest was at an end. But after all we've been through, he thought, there must be a way, and we'll find it. Olamin wouldn't dispatch a trio of youths with his secret information if no means existed.

Having firmed his resolve, he finally drifted off to sleep.

In the morning the weary magician suggested they go back to the ocean to see if any idea might strike them. Mounting their ilon, they flew east, hoping something would develop, and spent the morning on the shoreline, observing the region's birds and few animals, a brisk breeze coming off the salt water. But nothing gave them cause for hope. During the afternoon they flew northward, then back to the south, searching the coastline for anything inspirational, but came upon nothing. They settled down on a beach which was now becoming familiar.

As daylight waned they were hungrier than ever. Taking to the air, they flew reluctantly back to the site of last night's stay, foraging for a scant amount of food before settling in for another night. The ravens found places in the slim branches above, the crane taking her usual position on the ground. The gloomy kirins eventually fell asleep, unaware that during this night something would transform their mood and mission completely.

Diliani was awakened by moans from her faithful raven. Recognizing them as warnings, she noted other sounds, sniffing and rustling, and sensed movement nearby. Immediately alert, she looked about but could see nothing of her surroundings, clouds above obliterating the moon and stars. She wondered what was making the noises, and whether she was dreaming of her time in the black Shillitoe tunnels, yet knew she was awake.

Runagar was sleeping beside her. She put a hand on his shoulder and shook it, and he mumbled.

Her concern mounting, visions of gronoms and other vile monsters flashed through her mind. "Speckarin!" she cried.

"What is it?" muttered the magician, awakening from deep slumber, trying to collect his thoughts.

"Something's near," she said. "Perhaps an animal."

The shuffling and breathing continued, and Speckarin concentrated his full attention on it.

"Use your fire starter for light!" she said.

Reaching for his bag, always nearby when he slept, he fumbled through it in the dark. He had trouble finding the device, then took it out quickly. As he had in the rainstorm after discovering Gilin was lost, he spoke an incantation, "Vo, unos selunan."

Flame spurted from the fire starter's tip and it lighted the area. The kirins, all awake, were startled to see the reflective eyes, lightly-hued chests, and whitish noses of two animals but a short distance off. Blinking at the light, they glanced away as if not even curious about it.

"Weasels," said Diliani.

All but Runagar knew what that meant. In the home forest, this breed was never tamed, never used as ilon. With a reputation for being bothersome and untrustworthy, they were difficult to control and occasionally aggressive toward kirins. Rarely they attacked kirins and tried to eat them. The appearance of these two at night in foreign surroundings was a deep concern.

The weasels were closest to Diliani and Runagar, and began moving toward them, but they slipped from beneath the animals' noses.

Speckarin got quickly to his feet. "Everyone, come close to me."

The weasels stopped and watched the kirins crowd around the magician as he held the fire starter high. The ravens were overhead in branches, but Speckarin doubted they would help. They could warn their masters, but had no experience in fending off attacks. Standing in the distance in pale light, the giant crane appeared menacing, but didn't move and the animals paid her no attention.

Speckarin's mind raced through the tricks, simulations, and spells used over the ages to defend against unfriendly creatures, and began reciting an incantation for just such a predicament, but it had no effect. In fact, as he spoke the weasels came closer, deliberately and cautiously, one paw in front of the other. Baring white teeth in a malicious grin, a testy growl came from one.

The magician spoke words of rebuke, first in Ruvon, then the home dialect, commanding the animals to stop, saying what they were doing was wrong and they should depart at once. They paid no attention.

"Behind us!" cried Hut.

Their heads turned in unison to see three more weasels standing motionless and staring at them from the opposite approach to the encampment.

Then, as if on cue, the five creatures began moving—slowly, silently, and effortlessly—forming a circle around the party, which was being surrounded and apparently stalked by animals over which they had no influence.

The beating of wings came from branches above, the ravens sensing their masters being threatened. Then they could dimly be seen, flying above the weasels, indecisive about what to do.

Wanting to call to the birds, Speckarin didn't know what to tell them. In the gloom, without their masters aboard to give direction, the ravens landed on the ground outside the ring of animals.

"Runagar," said Speckarin, "can you help?"

"I have no experience with creatures like these," said the red-haired Shillitoe, "but I'll try."

He scolded and persuaded them in the language taught by Lanara, its roots in ancient curlace intended to thwart troublesome creatures. He hoped the magic would come through as it had while he was flying on Faralan, the bird out of control. But nothing happened.

The second time we try his voice, thought Speckarin, and it doesn't work. And to make matters worse, my flame's burning out.

Eyeing the kirins and moving steadily about them, the weasels began easing inward. Then they halted in their tracks and tilted their heads as if listening. As inexplicably as the aggression had begun, they turned and slunk away, disappearing one by one into the night.

Speckarin breathed a sigh of relief. "I've seen much at home and on this voyage, but never have I seen animals act so bizarrely, mechanically, and menacingly toward kirins." He shook his head. "I've never liked weasels."

"I'm truly sorry to hear it," said a voice in Ruvon.

The travelers turned toward it. With Speckarin's faint light, the voyagers saw the dim outline of a kirin pacing toward them, the ravens parting before him.

"They can be difficult," he said. "But we control them. Under those circumstances they can be quite likable." Stopping, he eyed the foreigners. "My name is Straiken."

His heavy, single-pieced garment covered him from neck to ankles and had vertical gray and black stripes. A piece of the same material circled his brow, covered his skull, and, in a fashion never seen by the travelers, descended from the rear of his head halfway down his back. Over his long feet were thick coverings bound by cords. He was a curious but welcome sight indeed to the party.

"I'm certainly grateful you found us," said Speckarin in Ruvon. "Are those your animals? They surrounded us, appeared ready to attack. Thankfully they stopped."

"Our protectors," said the strange kirin, "trained to do what they did with anyone or anything unusual. You were unfamiliar. In this region many things threaten us. Realizing the animals were circling kirins, I sent them away."

"They're ilon?" said Speckarin.

"We use several species," said Straiken. "Those are defenders. They wouldn't have harmed or touched you without a sign from me."

"Do you ride them?" asked Ruggum.

"We use others for that," said the stranger.

"What species?" asked Diliani.

"Come see for yourself," said Straiken, eying them again. "It looks like you could use food and rest."

The visitors were wary of anything foreign, but in dire need of food and a place to rest. Thus, when this well-covered newcomer turned and shuffled away, Speckarin nodded to the others and they followed, the birds coming along behind.

It was a considerable hike in the gloom of night, Speckarin's light having long since faded. The trailing party had difficulty knowing where they were going and keeping their ilon moving in an orderly fashion, and Straiken said little as he padded on ahead.

Eventually he started down a shallow incline, then stopped, bent over, and with effort lifted something. A horizontal beam of light knifed through the darkness, illuminating him and his rocky surroundings. He had opened a long, low wooden door paralleling the ground, and inside seemed to be an underground refuge. "Enter, and quickly," he said holding the door up.

The birds were told to remain where they were, the travelers stooping and stepping inside, Straiken following and letting the door thump down behind him. Blinking, the visitors looked about. They were in a small room with a low ceiling, the space lighted by lamps on all sides. But neither flame nor fuel could be seen, and Speckarin wondered how they worked.

Straiken called out and another kirin—dressed in garments like his companion's, but thinner—appeared in a doorway at the opposite end of the room. Straiken spoke to him in a language unintelligible to the visitors, and the new kirin looked amazed as he gazed at them.

He approached the party. "Where do you come from?" he asked in Ruvon.

"Far to the west," said Speckarin. "We are on a mission and need..." He stopped, suddenly having the feeling he should reveal nothing more, perhaps having already said too much. Since Straiken had found them, he was grateful his party fell into the hands of kirins, but now wasn't certain of their priorities and intentions.

The hosts asked several times why the visitors were in this territory, and Speckarin answered superficially, explaining nothing about the quest. Finally the hosts spoke to each other in their own dialect, then Straiken spoke to the visitors in Ruvon. "We will provide you with food and shelter. Like you, we have bird ilon. In the morning they will bring food to yours. Come."

He headed toward the low door and the visitors followed, but he turned to face them. "No, one must stay."

They looked at one another. The party was going to be broken up, and they didn't like it.

"We wish to remain together," said Speckarin.

"If you desire food and drink and a place to rest," said Straiken, "your request is impossible. As you'll see, our dwellings weren't constructed to host a large group—in fact, not more than a single guest at a time."

Speckarin glanced at the cramped quarters, then down the hallway the second stranger had come from. It looked like more rooms were there. He glanced at Ruggum, who appeared uneasy. "Must we do as he says?" asked the magician in the home tongue.

"It appears we have no choice," said Ruggum.

Speckarin thought about sharing his notion not to reveal anything. But Straiken was asking who would remain here, and Runagar volunteered.

He doesn't speak our dialect, thought Speckarin, so I couldn't warn him anyway. Perhaps I'm overreacting.

"Stay," he told Runagar. "We won't be far." At least I hope not, he thought.

Straiken pushed the door open, motioned the visitors through, and held it up as they stooped going back into the cool night air. Runagar approached the doorway and told Glinivar, waiting with the ravens, to stay where she was. Straiken let the door down abruptly, Runagar inside. "We must never allow our light to attract outsiders," said Straiken as the party moved away, the visitors puzzling over his statement.

They followed their host, the ravens trailing behind. Because of darkness it was difficult for the visitors, but a short distance away they came upon another shelter with a low, horizontal door. Straiken pulled it open and the party entered. The dwelling was similar to the last but more dimly lighted. Straiken had a brief conversation with another deeply interested host clad in the same striped garments, and they indicated Hut should remain here. The lad told the faithful Lisam to wait outside.

Outdoors again, Speckarin remembered Gilin and stopped Straiken. "I have something to explain. It might be difficult to understand, but one of our party is...invisible. Gilin, lad, where are you?"

"Here," said the youth, who was already wondering what would happen to him.

Straiken seemed unperturbed. "Aside from being invisible, does he require any unusual treatment?"

"He's otherwise quite normal," said Speckarin.

"Fine," said Straiken. "He'll stay with me."

Off they went into the dark again, the travelers being deposited one at a time in separate dwellings, all similar, and in each case a dutiful ilon was left waiting outside. At every new lodging a kirin, feet bound like the rest and clothing always the same, accepted his guest politely. The travelers were not happy about the party being broken up, but had little to say about it and were glad to have shelter over their heads, and, as it turned out, a good meal in their stomachs.

After introducing himself, Speckarin was fed by an elderly kirin in what seemed the apartment's common room, and carried on little conversation between mouthfuls. When finished he was led to a barely lighted bedroom. Weary, he wasted no time in reclining on the bed. The surface was hard, but far more comfortable than the ground he had slept on the past two nights. He was bothered that he and his charges were separated, and he didn't know precisely where they were. He didn't trust these new kirins completely, but in the dark would have no chance of finding his companions.

As he forced himself to relax, a new and comforting idea came. It was obvious, but he hadn't really thought about it. We're among kirins, our own species, our kind. My suspicions are probably unjustified. They might even help us continue the quest.

Drifting to sleep, he found himself dreaming or imagining—he couldn't tell which. He and the party were flying placidly through the skies, but not on ravens, on birds much larger and snow-white in color. In his dreamy state, from the back of his bird he looked down and was startled. They weren't above land, but above a shimmering ocean.

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Speckarin awoke with a start and found himself alone and in a strange room, having no idea what time it was. Sitting up, he looked about at a windowless, wooden interior illuminated dimly by a flickering lamp on the wall. Getting to his feet, he moved across a cold, stony floor to examine the device. No flame, he thought with interest. How does such a thing work? I must ask my host.

He shuffled through the doorway, down a dark hall, and into the room where he had eaten before going to bed. He blinked because it was now brightly lighted by similar fixtures. He was encouraged to find not only his host but two others of this peculiar order, the three sitting on the far side of the room behind a table as if waiting. Greeting him with curious eyes, all were clothed alike, dark, striped gowns covering them from shoulders to feet. But it was the strange headpiece, the same as Straiken's, that caught his eye. Why wear such things, he wondered, especially indoors?

He cleared his throat, smiled, and spoke in Ruvon, "My name is Speckarin." He didn't know his host's name. The three studied him intently.

His elderly host spoke, "I am Sankar." But there he stopped, not introducing the other two.

"Where are the others of my party?" asked Speckarin, his interest in the lamps suddenly receding. "I'd like to see them."

"With relatives," said Sankar. "All are nearby."

Speckarin was startled. "What do you mean...relatives?" Though not understanding the word's use, he didn't want to offend these kirins.

"Others of us," said one stranger. "Others of our kin. We are family."

Their concept of family and kin was hardly clear to Speckarin, but he didn't ask about it, desiring only to be reunited with his friends. "What time of day is it?" he asked.

"Morning," said Sankar.

"Will you take me to my friends?" asked Speckarin, uncomfortable and frustrated that he had no control over matters. "Or have them brought here, or arrange a meeting for all of us?"

"Yes, we'll do that," said the second stranger. "But first we'd like to know more about you, who you are, where you came from, where you're going."

Speckarin's suspicions about these unfamiliar kirins hadn't lessened overnight and now came into sharp focus. "Will you take me to the others of my party?"

The three said nothing.

Speckarin marched to the low wooden door and pushed, but encountered something he had never experienced before, a door not opening. It resisted his first attempt, his second, and his third.

He examined it up and down and from side to side, then turned to gaze at the three, and was disturbed by their calculating appearance and lack of help. No kirins he had known, the clans near home and the Shillitoe tribe, ever found it necessary to bar doors. He tried it once more, to no avail.

"This door," he said, pointing a finger at it. "I wish to go outside. It does not open. Why?"

"We need to know more about you," said an unnamed host.

"My friends," said Speckarin. "Are they trapped like me?"

"They're perfectly safe," said Sankar placidly. "Where are you from?"

Speckarin stared at his adversaries. Held against our will. By kirins! But to be united with my friends, I might have to cooperate with these hooded interrogators and tell them something about us and the mission. I never liked weasels, and here they use them as protectors!

He moved away from the doorway and slowly back to face his examiners. He cleared his throat. "I have given you my name. We hail from a great distance to the west. We're peaceful, tree-dwelling souls. Our clans, Yorl and Moger, live in giant oaks named Rogalinon and Rogustin."

Going on cautiously, uncertain how much to tell, he outlined his clan's history, described neighboring clans, and told of the trip here on ravens, the three listening with rapt attention, saying not a word.

Finally he decided to reveal something about the quest. "We traveled this great distance to find the sea. Now we must find a way to cross it."

For the first time the three took their eyes off him and looked at one another.

Sankar eyed the visitor. "You wish to cross the sea?"

Speckarin hesitated, hoping he hadn't said something wrong or revealed too much. "That is...our intention."

"Each in your party has the same objective?" asked a stranger.

"Yes," said Speckarin nervously.

"How do you propose to do it?" asked the other stranger.

Why do they want to know? wondered Speckarin. "We have no means of doing so," he said. "We must find one."

At once the three were conferring intently in their language, Speckarin having no idea what they were discussing. Surprisingly, they didn't ask why his party wanted to cross the ocean, and he was relieved they did not.

Sankar turned to his visitor. "We might be able to help in this endeavor."

Speckarin was stunned. Taking a deep breath, he replied, "But it was my feeling by the way we're...being treated...you wanted to prevent us from leaving, or disapproved of us in some way."

"On the contrary," said Sankar. "We've been waiting for you."

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Diliani awoke in a small room, alone and in a foreign dwelling. Arising, she made her way cautiously to a dimly lighted common room, where sat three members of the curious group the travelers had encountered the evening before, her host in the middle. She greeted them and they said nothing. She asked questions and they didn't respond.

Perplexed, she went to the low wooden door only to discover it was locked. She looked at her hosts and, standing a safe distance away, asked about the other members of her party and received no response.

Before going to bed, she had explored the apartment enough to know this was the only entrance. Realizing there was no means of escape, fear crept into her heart. Like the times she peered through the tiny hole above the Shillitoe cave, not only was she imprisoned here, she was unable to communicate with kirins she was seeing. To combat her growing fear, she decided to interrogate her captors, asking about their living arrangements, culture, and lives at this edge of the continent. No answers came. The three who detained her simply sat and observed her every movement.

A heavy thud on the door made her turn toward it. Her host was immediately on his feet going quickly to the door and causing it to open. Though observing closely, Diliani couldn't tell how.

Bending, he stepped outside and a lively conversation followed in the local dialect. Diliani understood nothing, but through their speech's rapidity and the air of excitement, she sensed something was happening and felt her heart beating faster.

The host re-entered and spoke to her, "We'll take you to the others. Are you prepared?"

"Naturally I'm prepared," she said, irritated, but encouraged by what he related.

"Come with me," he said.

He headed through the doorway, followed closely by Diliani and the others, caused the door to close, then moved off at a brisk rate. The loyal Manay was glad to see her mistress, and fell into a lurching gait behind the kirins. Glancing back, Diliani was amazed to see no trace of the shelter they had departed. The wooden door was obviously camouflaged.

Her host stayed in the lead as they moved rapidly along, the other two following on her heels.

The heavens remaining cloud-covered overnight, the morning was gray and cheerless. The small parade moved across flinty turf and dusty ground, Diliani with no idea where they were going.

Trees were few and far between. The land was barren, cold, and punctuated by half-buried rocks of various shapes and sizes. What a contrast to home, she thought, where we live above ground in majestic oaks and are surrounded by a thriving forest. This solemn colony dwells underground, in the manner of the Shillitoes, but hardly in the splendor of a dazzling cave. They exist in small rooms with dull, splintery interiors.

Studying the lifeless terrain, she saw nothing edible and wondered where they gathered food. The question was never answered, but later she suspected this clan had cleaned out their stores to feed the weary, famished travelers.

She felt sorry for them. What a different life they lead from ours. What lifestyle diversity kirins must have throughout the world.

She noted something in the distance, a structure of some sort, but couldn't make out what it was. As they approached she began to see that it was something completely unexpected in surroundings like these. Its base was a circular stony surface, smooth and broad. In a ring about its edge were a series of upright stones. They were spaced evenly, and bridging the gap between every two was a horizontal one, lying atop them lengthwise. Other rocks were positioned randomly inside the circle. She wondered what the significance of all this might be.

They stopped at the ring's outer border. Then she saw four kirins at a distance coming toward them. Three were of the strange clan, but she was cheered that the fourth was Hut, and Lisam was with him.

When he arrived they greeted each other warmly. Their hosts motioned them inside the stone circle. Soon others of the traveling party arrived, each with a raven and accompanied by three local kirins in the same unique, gloomy attire.

Gilin found Talli and touched her shoulder. "Alone last night," he said, "I held your disc and thought of your great grandmother and grandfather, how they were apart, then together again."

She smiled. "Your gemstone was in my hand all night."

Diliani turned. Runagar was approaching with three local kirins and the sandhill crane. Arriving, he went to Diliani and looked into her eyes, then spoke in his mellow voice, "Are you harmed in any way?"

The dark-haired woman took his hand. "No, but I was frightened. They wouldn't answer my questions; they said nothing. So I questioned them."

Glancing about, she was surprised that every clan member, or least every one she had seen, was male. They stood glumly together, staring at their visitors.

The other travelers greeted one another happily. Discussing what happened to them, they found each had an identical experience, all were unharmed, and they had no idea what would happen next. No words came from the strange kirins who had housed them overnight.

"Where's Speckarin?" asked Hut.

To their dismay, he wasn't among them. Milling about nervously, they asked their somber hosts where the magician might be but received no reply.

"There he is," said Hut, pointing.

The travelers saw his yellow gown in the distance. He was moving in their direction with Ocelam and five local kirins. When they arrived the voyagers greeted him cheerfully.

One of those accompanying him wore a headpiece like the others, but a golden chain circled his head, and from it a round pendant, also gold, dangled between his eyebrows. On it was an engraved insignia.

Earlier in the day Speckarin had been introduced to this kirin, and was surprised to recognize the insignia as the Guardian Magician's. The last time I saw it, he thought, was on the wall of my apartment at home. This individual must be a magician. Is he in the upper echelon of magicians, where I've long suspected something's wrong? Does he have anything to do with the High Council?

Speckarin asked about it but received only a stare.

That morning, after Speckarin had revealed his party had no means of crossing the sea, two of his interrogators got up, opened the door, told him to stay with Sankar, and departed hurriedly. Sankar closed the door, sat down, and said not a word during their absence.

Speckarin was reeling from what they had already said. This strange group was waiting for him, or his party, or so they stated.

The two who departed returned shortly bringing the kirin with the golden chain and another, apparently his attendant. All stared at Speckarin until the one with the gold emblem sat down and started asking questions. Nervous about answering fully, Speckarin skirted issues about the mission until something happened that changed his attitude completely.

"You must keep nothing from us," scolded his questioner, "because we already know about you."

"What do you know...about me?" Speckarin asked.

"Never mind. We know enough. We know your intention is to navigate the ocean."

"I told your associates that."

"Now I ask a very important question. What is the reason?"

Speckarin wavered, unsure what to disclose. But he was alone and seemed to be waging an uphill battle against overbearing kirins who appeared to know about him while he knew nothing at all about them.

He made a decision. I'll tell all. If we don't find a way to cross the sea, our quest is over. These are kirins, though highly peculiar, who have said they might help in our cause.

He launched into a narrative of everything about the mission, telling about the traveling party, gronoms and volodons, assaults on the home clans, revealing what little he knew about Olamin's teachings, and that two of his party carried the dead magician's knowledge. "Now, we must cross the ocean. If you know how, please tell me."

The listeners had concentrated on his every word, and it was soon apparent his decision to disclose all was fitting.

The one with the golden chain took a deep breath, then responded, "We knew you were coming. We have waited a long time for you, and are pleased you are finally here."

"How could you possibly have known?"

"I will explain. We, too, are acquainted with gronoms. We were not aware of the flying ones you described. We know about the struggle in the realm of kirin magic. Gronoms have not visited us, nor clans around us, doubtless because no kirin in the region has the alluring knowledge."

But now, thought Speckarin, whoever you are, you have someone in your midst you never had before, a kirin gronoms and volodons pursue. For your own good and ours, let's hope they don't find us here.

"We are fortunate," said the interrogator, "that the evil has not touched us."

"It's touched many a kirin far and wide," said Speckarin.

"I am The Leader, the head of our order," said the one with the gold emblem, revealing something of this sect's makeup for the first time. And he made other disclosures. "We are all magicians and consider ourselves a family. Our order's purpose is to consolidate the energy of kirin magic, to maintain and strengthen what is left. You, a magician, are well aware of the reduction in our race's powers. Our sect was conceived and established by the great magician, Odabew, centuries ago. We concentrate mainly on fading, faltering spells, and are proud to have rescued many from near extinction."

"But how did you know we were coming?"

"Some time ago, four kirins from the west arrived on our coastline, exactly as you did. Stumbling upon kirins north of us, as you happened upon us, they disclosed little about their quest because the information endangered those possessing it. They did say they were searching for a means of crossing the ocean, as you are, and told something about their mission, about its relationship to gronoms and the powers behind them. When we later learned of this, we recognized its importance."

So! thought Speckarin excitedly. Our party's not alone on this improbable quest. At least four other kirins—perhaps many more—are embroiled in the same peril and pursuit.

Except for Olamin, these were the first kirins he had ever heard of who were apparently striving for the same goal as his party, and his heart was gladdened.

"Unfortunately," said The Leader, "the four travelers chanced upon kirins with no resources to help them deal with the ocean. We learned of this when one of our clan visited the tribe they contacted. Before we could become involved, the four departed and were never heard from again. They might have tried to cross the sea, or might have turned back. We do not know. We live on the seaboard, and strongly suspected another party, possibly several, would get this far and need help to go farther. Thus, when you said your party intended to cross the ocean, we knew why. Who else would possibly wish to?"

Who indeed, thought Speckarin. No one in his right mind.

"We have been disturbed," The Leader continued, "since the four disappeared, and hoped for a chance to help so important a pursuit. Because we can. We know how to cross the ocean."

"How?" said Speckarin.

"We must bring your party together, to meet our clan and discuss the matter. Come."

Stepping through the doorway of Sankar's dwelling, he was followed by his colleagues and an enlivened Speckarin. Accompanied by Ocelam, the party marched across dry terrain to the stone circle.

Speckarin was delighted to find all his charges there. Greeting each, he was surprised all had undergone similar experiences, yet he was the only one interrogated.

He glanced about at the circular, smooth surface they stood on, the upright rocks surrounding it like sentinels. Stroking the stone floor with his toe, he spoke to The Leader, "I presume this is your gathering place."

"And much more," said The Leader. "It is our ancient, revered site of magic, unchanged for centuries. Humans have been seen examining it and departing, baffled by why it stands here in the wilderness and what it means."

Speckarin was fascinated, and envisioned scenes from the past, ceremonies of magic, humans contemplating the structure, small in relation to those giants, but peculiar and unfathomable. And he felt something, a sensation which came at moments he couldn't foretell, a longing for reunification between kirins and humans. But he had neither time nor energy to think about that now.

He perused the stone pillars and the horizontal stones atop them. "What does this structure signify?"

"It's a small duplication of the citadel of kirin magic," said The Leader.

Speckarin stared at him blankly, then shook his head. Don't ask, he thought. I've too many other questions. "What about crossing the ocean? May we discuss that now?"

The Leader turned his head and gazed off into the distance until one of his underlings tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and joined a lively discussion with several of his clansmen, who were much more animated now that he was here.

It seems he doesn't want to answer, thought Speckarin, frowning. Why? These magicians are a strange crew. I'll get it out of him, but I have other questions and I'll ask them first.

The Leader turned back. "Why did you keep us separated," asked Speckarin, "when it appears you have room enough to house some of us together? And why were doors locked?"

"Our dwellings are in the ground, not above it as yours are, and we are not far from human settlements. We have learned to be cautious, not only about humans, who pass this way with some frequency—they have been known to step and trip on our dwellings—but also strangers, kirin and animal. In these troubled times we are more careful than ever. You were foreign. Until we knew more about you, we kept you separately."

"Why did you interrogate only me?"

"You lead the party."

"Now I realize why Straiken wasn't surprised about Gilin being invisible. Like all of you, he's a magician. But why was he out last night, not home like the rest?"

"He was on duty monitoring weasel activity when they discovered you. You were unfamiliar and they acted accordingly. Straiken was not in the immediate vicinity. When he got there and saw you were kirins he called the animals off."

Speckarin wondered how Straiken monitored the weasels, and how he called them off. "We saw and heard nothing. The animals simply stopped and went away."

"It is a little complicated. You will learn about it in due time."

"How do your lamps work? At home ours burn with flame. We recently met a cave-dwelling tribe, and their light also comes from fire."

"In this region kirins have used a different method for many years. Our magician clan invented it and dispersed information on how to implement it to surrounding clans. I will explain when we have time, but other matters are more pressing."

The Guardian Magician's insignia was on The Leader's brow. Speckarin had been eyeing it. He was well aware what it represented. But he wondered how much this magician knew about the Guardian Magician, the failing of kirin magic, and the struggle in that realm. He asked and was disappointed to find The Leader as ignorant and desirous of learning as he.

"What's your name?" asked Speckarin.

"I am known only as The Leader."

"What's your clan's name?"

"I cannot reveal that. Since the inception of our order, it has never been known to an outsider." The Leader turned away and began talking earnestly with several others of his clan.

Speckarin shook his head and chuckled. A magician clan with a secret name and a Leader with no name. They use weasels as guards and knew of our coming before we came. They make light without fire, but best of all they know how to cross the sea. I'd like to stay here, learn more about these magicians and more from them. Though hardly a friendly lot, they'd surely have much to teach.

No, he thought. No time for that. We have business to attend to, a small matter, an ocean to cross.

Tapping The Leader on the shoulder, he smiled. "I have one last question. It's not about the lamps, and please, don't keep me in suspense any longer. How do we deal with the ocean?"

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