Abyssal Road Trip - 316 - Caught with your pants down. (Patreon)

Amdirlain’s PoV - Material Plane - Quil Tris

True Song shifted Amdirlain’s body into an incorporeal state similar to the spectres she’d seen. It was also a condition that put her uncomfortably close to the warped dimensional shift the Eldritch attack had caused. In it, Amdirlain could see the infestation of alien energy drawing close to her torso. The upper wounds on her torso showed no signs of infection, but the ghostly outlines of veins and unsheathed nerves darkened as she watched. She could see her sigil’s nodes glowing brightly out of incorporeal flesh in this state.

As the rot approached the lowest node included in Amdirlain’s sigil, agony tore through her, almost disrupting the song. Precognitive dread raced through her body, warning her to flee the effect. Contorting herself and drawing her body thin, Amdirlain struck down with the Primordial Kopis she brought into this state. The blade went through her like an incense stick wafted about, leaving a clean cut below her belly button and a misty trail of ash. While the pain it brought was a sharp fire in ethereal flesh, the node’s agony stopped, and the severed part drifted clear.

Amdirlain flared Primordial flames across the Eldritch-infested remnants and ignited its essence. With it burning out of phase, she set a lingering song to keep it here and released the main incorporeal song to revert to a solid physical form.

The grass crackled under her body, and Amdirlain went to flow upright, only to almost spawl face first. Her arms pushed to keep her upper body from the grass brushing against the still bleeding stub of her torso, where her legs hadn’t regrown. While Protean had filled out the wounds higher to match her Anar form, its reformation stopped where she’d severed her body in the incorporeal state. The music in Resonance believed her current form was complete, its concept simply had no legs. Other forms she tried to assume all failed to manifest their legs, though the wound’s blood loss slowed to a seep.

“Okay, not good,” muttered Amdirlain, and she took in the fires within the manor. Alyolhe's blast had carried through the building’s wing and vaporised some of the infected. In the distance, she could hear law keeper vehicles approaching at high speed. Wincing, Amdirlain triggered the crystal to cleanse the memories from the rest and teleported them to safety. With them gone, she sent the crystal sarcophagi to the Abyss. The distortion in the basement worried her but it wasn’t something she could handle. Hoping it would be enough, she detonated a series of Primordial explosions, collapsing the building into the basement.

Amdirlain started to sing to correct her body, only for something different to Precognition prickle down her spine. The sense of worry that arose killed the notes on her lips. Recognising the sudden wariness to force a change in herself came from old memories, she decided to seek out advice instead. More spells destroyed the blood covering the grass and the remains in the corridor before Amdirlain teleported away.

Arriving at the base camp, the time difference meant it was early morning. Livia and Rana were vigorously sparring within the courtyard, but Goxashru was fast asleep. At her arrival, the pair stopped mid-strike and turned to where Amdirlain hovered mid-air.

“Tell me this is a prank; where are your legs?” gasped Livia, and she dashed to Amdirlain. “You’re naked, cut in half and still bleeding, Móðir! What happened?”

“It’s a touch more than a flesh wound,” allowed Amdirlain. “Even Gideon’s says so.”

As Livia lightly touched one of the freshly healed wounds on Amdirlain’s stomach, she heard a Power activate. A mist of silvery light appeared around Livia’s hands, and Amdirlain felt healing energy seep into her body. “You’ve severed a complete section of yourself, and you’ve more injuries you're not showing.”

“I turn up naked, and you’re worried about my misplaced legs? ‌Shocking, young lady. Let’s contact Cyrus—it’ll save me from repeating the tale. The main points are I had to cut through the network of nodes within my flesh because of Eldritch damage, and he might have some advice,” stated Amdirlain. “The rot it left was getting close to a node of my sigil, and I knew I couldn’t let them touch.”

“I’ll expect more details than that when you share the tale with him,” grumbled Livia, and she fired off a Spell. “I’ll help you heal, though I feel your body recovering. Those nodes are part of the spiritual net that binds your Soul to your flesh, or a Shen’s essence to whatever form they’ve taken, Móðir. I’ve healed others with lost limbs, and I could still feel those limbs within their net, but I can't feel yours.”

It was a piece of information that Amdirlain remembered from Cyrus’ lectures, but she nodded calmly.

“Protean is normally wonderful, but it’s not happy with these injuries,” allowed Amdirlain.

“Perhaps we should get Amdirlain settled,” suggested Rana, motioning to the furniture in the covered hall.

“I’ll take myself to one, I can do more than just hover,” Amdirlain replied, and she teleported over to lie on a Roman-style couch. “Been busy with the Fabricate Spell?”

“I found I wanted a few different things after you’d already left,” replied Livia, and she sat on the edge of a table near Amdirlain’s seat. “Are we going to chat like nothing has occurred while you bleed on the furniture?”

“It’s not a situation of nothing having occurred, just one that can’t yet be changed, so it’s not time to act. I’ll tell you all the events in as much detail as possible once Cyrus arrives. How have things been here?”

Livia sighed. “No sign of any undead. Rana’s skilled with a blade beyond his levels, so we train whenever Goxashru is resting. Some local wildlife have provided some actual combat experience for all three of us.”

“What’s around?”

“Various giant burrowing insects and a small pack of water trolls so far,” explained Rana. “No undead, and nothing too dangerous.”

A Message Spell buzzed near Livia, acknowledging Cyrus was ready for a Gate. As Amdirlain opened her mouth to ask if she should handle it, Livia opened a Gate at the top of the hall’s steps. Through it, Amdirlain could see the dirt road outside of Xaos though only Cyrus was in view.

Cyrus gingerly crossed the threshold and sniffed the air as he approached. Kneeling, he gestured to her torso. “This world feels strange, empty and thin. I can smell burnt flesh, but you’ve no evidence of other burns. What is it that occurred?”

“The cliff notes are a foe had a higher magic rating than I did; it overpowered my internal defences,” explained Amdirlain.

“I’ve healed people that have lost an arm to a monster’s bite, Móðir,” advised Livia again, her frown deepened even as she kept pouring Ki into Universal Life. “You can normally sense where the body has a memory of it, and I learnt how to restore them. I can feel your net, but your legs are just gone.”

“Yeah, it's weird,” admitted Amdirlain, waving to where her legs should be. “Not even any phantom pain, and my form’s song says I shouldn’t have legs, and the same in other forms. I went to fix myself with True Song and got warning bells ringing from old memories. I don’t know if it was the delicacy it would require or something else, it just felt extremely risky for me to do it myself.”

After Amdirlain went through the details of the battle with the Eldritch, Cyrus’ gaze went bleak. “This isn’t something I can directly advise you on. While I’ve heard of battles where immortals have lost limbs in such a fashion, I’ll need to speak to a specialised healer. You should rest for a few days while I seek them.”

“I’ve got a deadline and have little time,” objected Amdirlain.

“One of your own making?” enquired Cyrus.

Amdirlain shrugged. “I agreed to meet with someone in about seven hours, and likely someone else will be awake to see I’m missing in six. Can’t show up without legs.”

“Brace yourself,” instructed Cyrus, and when Amdirlain nodded, the glowing Third Eye appeared in the middle of his forehead. Amdirlain grunted when the pressure sidestepped Pain Eater, and the pain of it dug hard into her. “I can see the severed strands that used to connect to nodes beyond your sigil. I know this is distracting, but run Ki through your sigil.”

With a nod, Amdirlain sent Ki spiralling through it. Upon completing the path, the Sigil flared to show its pattern was intact. Yet the expanding flames from the Phoenix’s base battered against a dark wall that leaked a few fragmented wisps beyond the end of her torso.

“You came close,” commented Cyrus, and he poked a spot just below her belly button. “Any higher and you would have crippled your sigil; take greater care when fighting these things. Maybe avoid putting your legs into their energy in the future.”

“In the future?” asked Amdirlain.

“I believe the spiritual damage you did is repairable, but ‌we’ll need an expert to confirm it and advise us on the approach,” replied Cyrus. “The trip back and forth is what will take time. Can you make them believe you’re unwell and resting?”

“I don’t want to tamper with their minds if I don't have to,” hedged Amdirlain. “I could try a psychic projection, but it won’t include scent, so I’d have to adjust the surrounding air on the fly.”

“You might have to do that or disappear. I don’t know how long getting you a healer who’ll be willing to examine you will take. If I can even get someone to come to you here,” cautioned Cyrus. “I know a couple of strong Phoenix healers in the South Wind’s court, but you might have to go to them.”

“You think ‌they’ll respond promptly?” asked Amdirlain. “We’ve heard nothing from the Jade Court.”

Cyrus lifted his hands helplessly. “The court and its functionaries operate in their own time. I’ll speak directly with the healers among the South Wind’s descendants. I suggest them because of your Phoenix sigil, they would best suit your care.”

“I can open a Gate from the Outlands to the Middle Kingdom’s border, and the Dragon Gate could bring them to it,” suggested Livia.

“I’ve got an option to help speed your travel. You said you’ve heard of this type of injury?” enquired Amdirlain.

“Both heard and seen some of our demons inflict similar wounds, but nothing this severe. That could be because you used your Primordial blade. The fires of creation can be an unforgiving thing,” stated Cyrus.

Amdirlain gave a nod of understanding. “So don’t get my hopes up. I’ll send you straight to Sanctuary if that would speed things up.”

“It would,” allowed Cyrus. “It's far from the Middle Kingdom, but I can go directly to the Heavenly Plane from there.”

Taking out a crystal, Amdirlain embedded it with the song of the clearing. “To save double hopping, this will bring you here. Hold it and focus on being here; you can use it from any Plane, but the Material Plane is better. It will bring anyone in contact with you along.”

Placing him in the chamber was easy with all her practice and having spoken to Gail in Sanctuary’s hall. Sensing tension from Livia, she opened a scrying window and showed his safe arrival, though the office's current occupant was confused.

Apologising, Cyrus took some time to blink away the trip's impact before he vanished, and Amdirlain heard him shifting between planes. The music of the Power he used was in a different octave range to the planes she knew.

“Bad assumption on my part. I thought Gail had kept that room to use for summoning circles,” coughed Amdirlain.

Livia's laugh was thin, and she came over to sit beside Amdirlain and grasped a hand. “Gail has expanded Sanctuary a few times, so maybe she’s using a different room now. I’m pretty sure that fellow was a Mechanus in Human form.”

“Don’t worry, Livia, we’ll figure something out,” Amdirlain said.

“What else will the fight with these things cost you?” asked Livia, squeezing Amdirlain’s hand tight.

Amdirlain sighed. “You heard Cyrus, he’s heard of similar injuries before, so relax for now. I’m honestly worried about the thing on the campus grounds. I could get in there, but then security would activate, and I’d have to deal with it and the campus wards. In the meantime, I’m pretending to be a Bard and making a splash.”

“Going to romance your way onto campus in a traditional Bard fashion?” questioned Livia blithely, though it stretched her attempt at humour thin.

Snorting, Amdirlain shook her head. “Not a hope. I’m too prickly for anyone to put up with me for long.”

“You going to put some clothing on? Never know what type of healer might show up,” cautioned Livia.

“If they’re an experienced healer, I’m sure they’ve seen everything,” replied Amdirlain. “I’ll have to recreate the shadow vines. The Eldritch energy was eating into them, so I tossed them with the flesh I cast away.”

Rolling her eyes, Livia stood, pulled a blanket from a storage ring, and laid it across Amdirlain, tucking it securely under her arms and wrapping it around her.

“Fuss pot,” grumbled Amdirlain as Livia patted her shoulder.

“I’ll tell Sarah you’ve gotten badly hurt, I’m sure she’d be here instantly,” threatened Livia. “I’d love to see how she reacts.”

“Let's not go there. Sarah’s another I’ll have to keep clear of them for now. With all her hunter levels, her Faith rating is likely higher than mine if I didn’t hide it,” advised Amdirlain.

“She also has Profile Mastery, which you’ve conveniently pretended to forget. I’m sure she could fake low faith for the reader you told me about,” argued Livia. “Plus, it would be good if you had some backup for the problems you’re handling.”

Amdirlain wrinkled her nose. “I’m lining up local support.”

At that, Livia gave her a flat look and raised a questioning eyebrow. “Local support, but not the cloister?”

“They have to be summoned by someone,” grumbled Amdirlain.

“You’re able to summon demons, and I’m sure you can handle willing Fallen,” observed Livia. “But you’ve never taken the time to get to know anyone else caught by the plinth’s injustice. You said they act to support each other on the path, but you won’t let them support you? What’s up with that? ”

“Fine, I might tell Sarah once more things are under control. They’ve got a lot of interesting Artificer gadgets I think she might like to study,” replied Amdirlain, and she paused. “I think Gaius would love to see them as well. From what Sarah’s said, he has little in the way of Faith for all his prior affiliations. Just have to see if he’s fine pretending to be a Catfolk.”

Amdirlain checked on Jal’krin’s place and found the youngster still asleep and the illusion undisturbed.

Livia didn’t comment on the topic change, she simply sighed and moved on. “Besides your fight tonight, how are things going? You only warned me about a few things and confirmed you’d be awhile.”

“I made quite the public spectacle, bullied a kid, and scared a Wizard who started to speculate about capturing me,” explained Amdirlain. “Someone wants to record my playing or singing so others can hear it. It won't be as good without my Charisma's influence.”

“You casually drop a few important points,” grumbled Livia. “Why did you bully him?”

“He made a bet that ruined his chance at higher education, and that of his sister. I didn’t dig enough into how much he regretted it and chewed his ear,” explained Amdirlain.

“Criminals can regret crimes, but they should still be judged for their inappropriate behaviour,” replied Livia.

Amdirlain sighed and awkwardly shifted position. “What he did wasn’t illegal despite its consequences to him and other family members. It was for them to deal with it as a family, not for me to get in his face about it.”

“Planning to make it up to him?”

“If I get back in time to not blow my secret, I’ll be helping him get his life back together,” admitted Amdirlain, and she waved at the flat blanket where her legs should be. “If I can’t fix this in time, things will get awkward with details to manage. Illusions are an option, but they’re riskier to maintain moving around with people and not get discovered. I’m supposed to be sleeping on the couch at his place.”

“How many of his family are there?” enquired Livia. “One of them might wake up first.”

“His family lives elsewhere; seems they’re not on speaking terms because of his mistake,” clarified Amdirlain.

“Móðir, keeping a male company and staying at his place, tsk‌,” Livia gently chided. “What will the neighbours say?”

Amdirlain grumbled. “Oh, stop giving me grief. The only thing I’ve done is hug him when he cried. He was holding in his pain, and I know the mistakes that can cause. Not that I haven’t still made them‌, but I can at least see them sooner.”

Livia stopped healing, moved to sit on the couch’s edge, and leaned down to hug Amdirlain. “Móðir, what else is wrong?”

“I found a memorial to soldiers, and it made me realise I’d performed no service or act of remembrance for Torm beyond hurting Moloch,” whispered Amdirlain.

“We all remember others in our way,” advised Livia. “He’d regret every moment of misery he caused you.”

Swallowing, Amdirlain shifted over and motioned to Livia to relax beside her. “Will you tell me about growing up around him?”

Livia nodded and lay down beside her. “Remembering a loved one is good. I’ve told you before, but I’ll tell you again. I met him when I was released from the Temple of Eir.”

* * * * *

Two hours later saw Goxashru awake and, shocked at the damage she’d taken, he fussed over Amdirlain and Livia. Making more tea than Amdirlain wanted to drink and offering to hunt her down powerful foes to help replenish her strength.

With no words, Amdirlain started to plan what influences she could inject into Pal’tran and Jal’krin’s memories. She didn’t know what option would be the simplest, as how they’d react to any proposal or excuse was an unknown.

Livia looked down at Amdirlain’s frown and poked her nose.

“Are you enjoying looming over me?” asked Amdirlain, not looking up.

“You’re the one that shifted position to put your head on my shoulder,” grumbled Livia. “Why not ask Gail to stand in? You could mentally fill her in on the details of your ‘Am’ identity.”

“I don’t want her near the Eldritch dissonance, and strong wizards might see through her Protean,” objected Amdirlain, and she continued with a sigh. “All the bleeding has stopped. I could either have a framework I can control with telekinetic techniques, or just hover around and create illusions of my legs.”

“Yep, risk yourself in a city with Eldritch beings but not others,” observed Livia. “You could put concealments around her, couldn’t you?”

“Yes,” muttered Amdirlain.

“As you did for yourself, you could put concealments around Gail and ask her to keep her Resonance at short range,” suggested Livia. “Have her attend the meeting. You can mentally listen in and provide prompts. Then get her to go shopping afterwards, and instead return here, buying you some time.”

“Her knight wouldn’t be thrilled with her plunging into danger,” noted Amdirlain.

Livia lifted an eyebrow again. “Like that would stop her. I feel sorry for him. Gail does pretty much as she pleases and often leaves him behind when she pokes her nose into trouble. He only gets to bodyguard her when she allows it.”

“What is the importance of this meeting you mentioned?” enquired Rana, shifting the topic away. “Perhaps we might contribute a different perspective with more information.”

As Amdirlain explained the cover identity she’d established and the day’s event, Rana nodded calmly and asked for details as she went. “Now you need an excuse why you’re laid up for some time?”

“Correct.”

“Level sickness from rapid progression,” proposed Rana. “If you were a level five Bard, as you said, and had given a moderately successful performance for a hundred thousand beings, you’d have gone up multiple levels. How you described the crowd’s reception could be worth nine or ten levels at the very least. A Mortal can make themselves gravely ill by levelling too much in one go, I understand it's from the strain of their body adjusting.”

Amdirlain worried at her lip at his proposal. “I don’t want them to attempt dragging the illusion off to a hospital.”

“Provide them memories of you being bleary-eyed and complaining about bone-aching fatigue,” advised Rana. “Perhaps a touch of nausea, but nothing too severe, and of course, make sure they remember the exhaustion in your scent.”

“I had said I was fine when Pal’tran asked,” objected Amdirlain.

“It doesn’t always set it straight away,” clarified Rana. “They are unlikely to have experience with it unless they force their young to advance. Can you reach Pal’tran’s dreaming mind from here or one of the medical staff from a hospital?”

They were still reviewing options and gathering information half an hour later when Cyrus appeared. Beside him was a lean youth with light brown skin, braided flame-red hair, and bright red and yellow robes that reminded Amdirlain of a Buddhist monk.

After they shook off the impact of the World Step, the youth shivered and rubbed his arms vigorously before he froze, staring at Amdirlain. True Sight presented his form as a heat mirage; within was a glowing red Phoenix with bright silver eyes pressed into a Human body.

“Kadaklan,” said Cyrus, and getting no response, he slapped a hand over the young man’s eyes. “Stop staring at Am.”

“Master Cyrus, there was no need for that. I was composing a poem,” objected Kadaklan.

“Ode to the Dawn,” quipped Livia, only for Amdirlain to growl.

Her growl caused Kadaklan to pause in surprise, but he continued when Livia showed no alarm. “Am’s eyes do indeed glow like the dawn come into full strength, golden light above the horizon. The South Wind’s flames sometimes aren’t half as grand.”

“I am right here, you know,” interjected Amdirlain as he drew breath to carry on.

“My apologies, but your eyes are so gorgeous. Like baking beneath a warm midday sun while pride fills you at seeing your hatchlings free themselves from their eggs,” gushed Kadaklan. ‌”Glorious, combined with the elegant bronze of your skin and the curve of your shoulders, which is far too alluring not to want to compose verses to do you justice.”

“I told you to cool your flames, Kadaklan,” noted Cyrus.

“What? I am composed,” protested Kadaklan, and he gestured dramatically towards Amdirlain. “You’re the one that rudely interrupted the inspiration of this muse.”

“I’m flattered, but we’re also running short of time,” prompted Amdirlain, and she tugged on the edge of the blanket that extended below her torso.

“Indeed, I was advised, but I lost my composure after experiencing that blaze of stars,” explained Kadaklan. Giving Amdirlain a nod, he walked around the couch to approach Amdirlain’s side, only to hesitate beyond her reach. “Ahh, I’ll need to examine you with my Third Eye. While I understand you're trapped in a form close to one of our demons, you are not one of ours. You also possess a Phoenix sigil that presents as blazing from a pyre. Is that all accurate?”

“Correct,” agreed Amdirlain, as she took in Kadaklan’s thoughts and the way they jumped around excitedly at the unique challenge healing her represented.

“I'll try to be gentle, but I’m afraid you’re likely to feel a bit of discomfort, if not actual pain,” warned Kadaklan.

“I promise to hold still and not wiggle around too much,” drawled Amdirlain.

Kadaklan sighed. “It's a gentleman’s job to inspire a lady to wiggle, but perhaps not in this case.”

Amdirlain drew breath to comment when a golden-yellow light scorched her from Kadaklan’s forehead. The primal blaze spread heat from just below her ribs and played out along the severed edges. Letting out the inhalation slowly, Amdirlain felt Protean work to heal her from the Power’s touch.

The light cut off as suddenly as it had started, and Kadaklan frowned in concern. “That wasn’t as pleasant as I’d hoped for the first time. Or was that good for you?”

“Are you deliberately making innuendos?” enquired Amdirlain.

“It was that or nip your earlobe, and I’ve never found that to work,” quipped Kadaklan. “All your bleeding has stopped, I take it?”

Amdirlain straightened and nodded. “Yes. I can’t just have someone kill me and release me again?”

“If you’ve anything in common, and your net indicates you do, you’ll keep the severed form. If you could lie completely flat on the couch, I’ll have to access the severed location directly,” advised Kadaklan, and a jar of unguent appeared in his hands. “This stuff smells horrendous, but it's very effective.”

Amdirlain frowned. “Effective at what?”

“Smelling horrendous,” stated Kadaklan blandly, and as Amdirlain started to repeat her question, he smiled. “And drawing one's spiritual net towards the skin to which it's applied, at least in normal cases.”

“Is that going to let me heal?”

“It's one step of many we might have to try. Let's see if it can get a reaction from your spiritual net first,” countered Kadaklan. “Your situation is unique. I’d like to try some methods that are less invasive first.”

The familiar vibe of a doctor wanting to get on with his work needled at Amdirlain. “What’s the most invasive?”

“Opening you up, sticking my fists inside you, and stretching your net,” sighed Kadaklan unhappily. A scalpel made of a bronze-like material appeared in his hands, and he waved it like a conductor’s baton. “Then using a bunch of tools to secure it until we can stimulate it to expand, and weaving it to form the nodes as it grows.”

Despite the situation, Amdirlain snickered. “Do you have much experience in fisting?”

“To be accurate, I should have said hands, but I was trying to convey the extent of the unpleasantness. It would feel like a ham-fisted fool is fumbling around inside you. I’ll leave the actual fisting to those like Master Cyrus,” retorted Kadaklan, and he started to cut off layers of the wax seal holding the jar closed. “My classes are variants of Tao Healer and Tao Alchemist, so no punching from me.”

“Not even a little fisting?” quipped Amdirlain.

Kadaklan set the scalpel atop the jar and, holding up his free hand, wiggled his long fingers. “Now you’re twisting my own word games against me. Woe is me. Healers’ hands. I might dislocate a knuckle if I punch someone, which could hamper their flexibility. You wouldn’t enjoy me punching you since I’m aspected to Yang energies.”

“That sounds like an excuse,” critiqued Amdirlain. “My Ki State can hold Jade Court Mana, if that can speed the healing up.”

Kadaklan stopped and frowned. “You're a not-a-demon, and you have Jade Court Mana and Ki. I assumed you were a Wizard; I believe that is the term outside the Middle Kingdom.”

“I told you Am is unusual,” observed Cyrus before he turned his attention to Amdirlain. “Sorry it took me so long to get back. I spent most of my time getting to see him. I only got some details through to him before it was like trying to hold on to a whirlwind. Once he told me to bring him to you, I figured we could sort the rest out here.”

Putting the scalpel and unguent back away, Kadaklan casually straddled the couch and looked along at Amdirlain. “Tell me what I should know?”

“I’ve many secrets and enemies, and I don’t enjoy sharing more than essential information,” stated Amdirlain.

“I’m your healer, and you’ve had the fires of creation cleave you in twain,” rebutted Kadaklan with a serious smile. “Knowing some information could be the difference between having working legs or not.”

Amdirlain frowned at the fishing attempt. “Master Cyrus said he’d heard of other injuries like this being regrown.”

“Primordial weapons don’t normally inflict them. While many factors influence the results, good results occur when the patient has or can gain the Affinity that inflicted the wound. The best results are when the patient’s Ki Infusion or Ki State can hold it, but given your injury-”

“I’ve Ki State Ranked at Senior Master, level one hundred and nine. Jade Court Mana, Spatial, Destruction, and Primordial Mana can be held within it.”

“Fuck me sideways,” gasped Kadaklan, and he turned to stare wide-eyed at Cyrus. “What sort of freak have you found?”

Snorting in disbelief, Cyrus nodded to Amdirlain. “Am is right here.”

Kadaklan looked back at Amdirlain and blurted. “How freaky are you?”

“Very, and not at all,” drawled Amdirlain.

“Now you have to tell me more,” laughed Kadaklan.