The Glass Prison

Vheod tried to smile but only managed a nod in her direction. She smiled back.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"My brother is eager to go," she said softly, "and he won't allow me to tend to his wound until we leave the area. Will you come with us?"

Vheod nodded. She helped him onto the back of her own horse.

Whitlock found a small copse of trees for them to rest in, well out of sight of the surrounding area. The three dismounted, and Mela

"Look, now that we're safely away, I’ve got to speak with you," the stranger said.

Whitlock gritted his teeth through the pain as Mela

"My name is Vheod Runechild," he replied.

"I am Mela

"What are you doing out here?" Whitlock asked through teeth clenched in pain. "Looking for you," Vheod stated.

"What?"' Whitlock started in surprise, then again in pain as his movements put his leg in a bad position. "What do you mean?" Mela

"I came here looking for you, to warn you that you are about to do something… terrible." Vheod stood over the two of them, a few steps away.

"What thing?" Whitlock asked, his voice raising in volume, his brow furrowed. "What are you talking about? How do you know anything about us?"

"You intend to free the tanar’ri Chare'en from his prison." Vheod said.

"What?" Whitlock said. "What are you talking about?"

"Just as I've said you're about to release a terrible evil into the world."

"No, we're not," Whitlock said quickly. "Our business is our own. Besides, isn't tanar'ri just another word for demon? If anyone's going to have anything to do with a demon, it's probably you. You look like you're probably a demon yourself. Come to think of it, what did you do back there to frighten all the gnolls away?" Whitlock grimaced from the pain.

"Just a moment," Mela

Whitlock grimaced. He was worried that the gnolls might come back. In fact, he really didn't understand why they ran away in the first place. The twosome-or rather, the threesome-had slain a fair number, but the gnolls had seemed certain of victory. Somehow, the dark-ski

Mela

"All right," she said with a gentle smile, "Vheod, could you please tell me what all this is about?"

"I’ve told you what I know-what you need to know." Vheod shook his head. "Are you or are you not going to free Chare'en?"

"Free him?" Mela

Vheod paused. He cocked his head and stared into the sky through narrow eyes. Whitlock studied this strange man. His breastplate was forged from some black metal covered in bizarre barbs and spikes. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before. The stranger had surprisingly long, reddish hair and a dark, weathered look to his skin. His features were gaunt and pointed-his appearance didn't suggest the kind of warrior Whitlock had seen in the fight earlier. Something about him, Whitlock thought, made him appear different-almost detached from the world around him.

Vheod said, "When I spoke to Orrag-" "Oh, you know that misbegotten half-orc?" Whitlock called out from behind them. "Well, that at least explains something." It confirmed his suspicions that Vheod wasn't to be trusted after all.

Vheod turned to look at Whitlock and said, "I spoke to him briefly while I was looking for you. He indicated you might think Chare'en is a long dead wizard. I can tell you you're wrong about that. I don't know why you believe it, but you're wrong. He's an imprisoned tanar'ri, and if you go to where he waits you'll risk freeing him."

"How did you know to look for us!" Mela

"Vheod," she asked him, "where are you from? Do you have something to do with the elves?" She glanced at Whitlock with a look that was supposed to carry with it some meaning-Whitlock was sure of that, but he didn't know what he was supposed to gain from it. The pain kept him from being able to concentrate.

Vheod paused, his eyes widening slightly, as if he was caught in a trap. "I'm not an elf."

"But that's not what I asked," she said gently. "I come from another plane, if you must know." Vheod said sullenly. "I came here seeking my heritage-my family-and instead I met a pair of priests who warned me that the two of you are going to do something awful. I've searched for you ever since."

"You're a cambion, aren't you?" Mela

Vheod stared at her flatly. Before he could answer, Whitlock asked from behind them, "What's a cambion?"

Vheod looked at Mela

"Shouldn't it?" She shook her head, mouth slightly open.

"What's a cambion?" Whitlock demanded, standing up. The wound was almost entirely healed by the spell, and he felt much stronger.

"My father was a tanar'ri, but my mother was a human-from this world. Don't judge me by that, though. I am my own man."

All three stood in silence, a gentle breeze blowing through the trees, providing relief to an otherwise sweltering day. A few insects flew around their faces, Mela

"He helped us fight off the gnolls. He might have saved our lives. We owe him our thanks and respect for that." She knew just what to say to him. Those were words she knew he would take to heart, and she was right. Whitlock couldn't argue with that.

"Well, I suppose that's true enough," he said to Vheod. "We thank you for that, sir."

Vheod looked back and forth between the two of them, his long hair tossed about in the breeze. He seemed confused.

Mela

"We must be on our way," Whitlock said. "Wait," Vheod implored. "Haven't you been listening to anything I've said? Chare'en is a balor! If you go to him you'll loose a terrible evil into this world."

"First of all," Whitlock said, "there's already evil in this world-plenty of it. Second, Chare'en's not a demon, he's a long-dead wizard. And third, why, by the name of all that's holy, should we listen to you? Just because you helped us against those gnolls? Now we're supposed to believe everything you say? Does everyone in the world think I'm a complete idiot? Ill have no more of this. Mela

A long silence passed as the siblings both looked at the mysterious newcomer. Vheod stood very still, his arms hanging down at his sides. Mela