As we entered the dolmen, (Patreon)

it occurred to me that I should probably warn Zandar what was about to happen. She had, as far as I knew, never been to Faerie before. That was the reason I had tweaked the Gate (using my hard-earned mastery of it) to send us into the magickal scry-space instead of into the base of the tower. Couldn't have a potentially dangerous Changeling running loose until I had assessed the risk!

Did I forget to mention that? Well, it was something I did as part of my preparations. But to get back to the story...

"Nothing from that world may pass this portal," I warned her, an instant before all of her clothing disappeared. I turned to look, and saw that Zandar was very upset. I needed to let her know that I didn't do it on purpose! It wasn't a cheap trick just to see her naked, like Estvan would have pulled! "Oh my!" I exclaimed, in what I hoped was a convincing tone of surprise and regret. I also tried to make a face which indicated that, although this is not what I wanted to happen, I did still appreciate her beauty.

She was quite beautiful. I gazed a little longer, just to make my point (and to steady myself, since turning around had made my head spin.)

"BASTARD!!!" Zandar shrieked. "You made them put those horrible clothes on me!" She took a swing at me with some blunt object in her hand.

I blocked her attack easily, almost reflexively, thanks to Adoyret Sam's training. One concussion was enough for today! I had to admit to myself though, that this meeting was not going well. "Tut tut, temper, my sweet," I clucked in a soothing and reassuring tone.

Hold on a second; an object in her hand?? I had to keep reminding myself not to underestimate this femme! "What's this you've got?" I asked, peering at the item she had smuggled in. "No, this shouldn't have come through."

I took it from her and turned around to examine it in a better light. It was smooth and cold, fairly lightweight. What was it? "Ooh, no way! It's a.. That's.. WOW!" I muttered as I turned it around in my hands. In the state I was in, it took me more than a few seconds to recognize the item as a glass bottle.

"GIVE IT BACK!" Zandar yelled behind me.

I was raptly examining the bottle. How had it gotten through the Gate? Holy Fuma! Through my brain haze I could see some EXTREMELY dark magicks attached to this thing! What in the Netherhells had Zandar been doing?? "You must have been very VERY naughty to have gotten this, my sweet," I declared. "I'm somewhat impressed, though- OW!"

WHACK! She hit me in the back of the head! Why are femmes so quick to resort to violence? It was all I could do to keep from crying out in agony and falling over. I struggled to maintain my composure as the pain in my head rattled around like broken glass and rusty nails inside my skull.

"Okay, here... Jeez," I grumbled, holding the bottle out in the general direction of the five Zandars I could see, hoping that one of them would take it and be satisfied. "I guess that explains how it was that you managed to survive." I was disappointed to note that I had probably been giving her too much credit when I thought she had mastered preservation magic.

"Why did you bring me here?" Zandar demanded.

"Heh heh," I chuckled, changing tactics. If trying to soothe her with a calm and fatherly demeanor didn't work, then I would have to resort to Wiles. "Come closer and ask again."

"What do you want from me?" she asked, stepping closer.

I chuckled merrily so as not to seem creepy. It was working! She wasn't trying to hit me again! Her lack of murderousness meant she was primed for the coup de grace! I grasped her shoulders, cast a charming glamer over myself, and gave her a Smoldering Look.

"Oh Zandar, you and I are going to shake the pillars of the earth and set the halls of heaven ablaze," I breathed huskily. Pretty good stuff, just off the top of my head! She was surely becoming completely smitten!

"Um... We are?" she replied, in a way that revealed the true extent to which she remained unsmitten.

She seemed to have a high Wiles resistance. I would have to increase the dosage! I reminded myself that I wasn't dealing with Angela Weakflit here. It was time to take the gloves off! I leaned in close and gazed into her eyes. That's when I noticed... What WAS that on her forehead? It was hard to tell through my watery, blurred vision, but it looked like - IT COULDN'T BE - she was growing a third eye!!!

"GREAT FUMA'S WHISKERS!" I exclaimed as I backed away in horror and shielded my mouth so it couldn't suck out my soul. "Answer me plainly, woman, and do not dissemble- What in all the nine Netherhells is THAT?"

"Tis the mark of my sin," she answered glumly.

"I can see that already!" I hissed. What misbegotten demon-pacts had she made to turn her into such a freak of nature?? "FURTHER DETAILS!"

"Made with a silver dagger."

So it wasn't a third eye after all, but just a scar. Still, that was really bad! "HELSBEGONDI!" I gasped, horrified and dizzy. "By whom?"

"By one whom I had wronged."

What did that mean? Did someone try to murder her? Was that why she was late? Was there some deranged elf-hating serial killer going around tracking down and slaughtering Changelings?! I would need to warn Rebecca!

"What stupid, what knave, what miserable doomed cur would dare to do such a thing to you?" I bellowed, in spite of a headache that threatened to split my skull in half. "To one of US?"

I paused to catch my breath, and it suddenly sank in. Someone she had wronged? "Wait. You did what?"

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I am well aware that this part of the story has already been told - and although the published version does not present me in a very flattering light, I cannot deny that it is an accurate record of events as they happened. Rather than rehash what you already know, how about you ask me questions and I'll fill in the missing parts.

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