the watch had sent her ravens to carry away her brother against his will and determined that she did not misjudge her. The Ravenwitch continued, 'I know Chare'en will be freed. I know his reign of terror will spread and his armies will swoop over the land- here. I don't want him to think of me as his enemy so I do not obstruct the actions of his heir and savior.' She bowed slightly toward Vheod.
Still obviously faming with anger, Vheod remained silent. With Melann and Whitlock now at his side, he began walking toward the entrance to the passage through the branch that would take them back to the ground. The ravens around them let loose shrill cries in the moonlight, but he seemed unmoved.
Vheod stopped. Looking back to the Ravenwitch, he said, 'You don't know me. The future is always uncertain. My destiny isn't preordained. I make my own way. Don't judge me by what you assume I am. I am more than that. I always have been, and I always will be.'
As they walked away, the Ravenwitch said something that puzzled Melann, though her words were directed at Vheod. 'It is a terrible thing for a creature to deny its own nature,' she said. 'Unlike most, you have a choice- you have two natures. Choose one, and don't deny it.'
Vheod and Melann searched through the packs on the dead horses outside the Ravenwitch's tree. Each horse was already cold in death. Melann took out some clothes for Whitlock and helped him put them on. Vheod removed the useful supplies, including some rope, a few empty bags, two bedrolls, some cooking gear, six torches, a knife, Whitlock's sword and crossbow, a quiver of a dozen or so crossbow bolts, and three mostly full waterskins.
They didn't have Whitlock's armor, Vheod's sword, or any food. Melann made a comment about how they'd not eaten all day as she helped Whitlock, who remained weak after his ordeal. Melann's priestly magic had aided him a great deal, and perhaps even saved him from death, but a number of his initial wounds from the battle with the giant ravens remained and weakened him.
'We need to get away from this place,'' Vheod told her, 'then we can rest. I’ll try to find us some food then.'
He loaded the supplies into two backpacks and handed one to Melann. She said a quiet blessing over the dead horses and thanked them for the help they had given the three of them. They both shouldered the packs and helped Whitlock to his feet. With his arms draped over their shoulders they walked away, into the deep woods.
Following the nearby river, the three travelers made their way south. They walked for a little over an hour, then stopped to rest for the remainder of the night. Vheod hoped the distance they put between themselves and the Ravenwitch would be enough to protect them from any treachery on her part. He didn't trust anything the witch did or said.
'We never asked about the green stones,' Melann said as she unrolled a bedroll and made Whitlock comfortable.
'What?' Vheod said, turning to her. ''The Ravenwitch said a lot of things back there, but we never asked about the strange green stones the gnolls seem to be collecting.'
'I wouldn't have believed her anyway,' Vheod said. 'Do you think everything she said was a lie?' Melann asked as she collapsed to the ground herself, wearily laying back on her own bedroll.
'I know her kind. The Abyss is full of creatures like her. They lace their lies with hints of the truth, just to make the lies more believable.' Vheod looked at Melann. She seemed to be carefully studying him.
'She confirmed your belief that Chare'en was a fiend, not a wizard,' she said after a moment.
'Yes. As I said, traces of the truth.' Vheod picked up a twig from the ground and whirled it around in his fingers.
'What about what she said about you? About you freeing him? Serving him?'
'Lies,' Vheod said harshly and quickly in response to Melann's words. He didn't look up at her, still staring at the small stick he spun in his hand.
'Vheod,' Melann said gently, 'I've spent some time with you, and I'm a good judge of character. I know you're struggling against the evil nature of your heritage.' She paused, swallowing hard. The words appeared to come to her only with difficulty. 'But haven't you considered the possibility that perhaps you've been set up? That somehow Chare'en-your ancestor-might have planned all of this?'
'I am in control of my own destiny,' Vheod protested, shaking his head. He snapped the twig in his hands and tossed it aside.
'But what if you aren't? What if there's a part of you-the evil, fiendish part-that actually conspires against you? I‘ve seen that evil nature well up inside you. It could be capable of anything.'
Melann's words cut into him like a sword. Vheod stared at the ground where he sat next to the reclining siblings. Whitlock had fallen into a much-needed sleep. Melann was quiet.
Vheod started to get up after a moment. I’ll see if I can get something for us to eat.'
'No, Vheod,' Melann said, still lying down. 'Wait until morning. Whitlock's asleep, and I'm exhausted. We couldn't eat anything now anyway.' Vheod sat back down.
'Are you sure you don't want a bedroll?' Melann asked. 'I can sleep without one for once.'
'I'm sure,' Vheod told her, as he had on previous nights.
They both lay on the ground in silence, listening to the wind gently tug at the tree branches above their heads.
''Vheod?' Melann asked quietly. 'Thank you for my brother. I could never have rescued him, and could never have gotten out of there on my own. Thank you.' Her tired eyes closed even as she finished speaking. She soon fell asleep, but sleep did not come that night to Vheod.
By the time Melann and Whitlock were awake, Vheod had already built a fire and was roasting a pair of rabbits that he'd killed with Whitlock's crossbow. The sun had risen a fair height in the sky, and the day once again promised plenty of sun and heat.
Whitlock appeared considerably better, and another dose of Melann's priestly healing seemed to restore him almost completely. He smiled when Vheod offered him some of the rabbit, and he ate hungrily. Melann also smiled silently as she accepted some of Vheod's breakfast.
Vheod had thought all through the night. Try as he might, he couldn't rule out that perhaps a part of him had conspired with other evil forces. That foul portion of him, which claimed obvious links to Chare'en, might have planned to come here so he could free his great-grandfather. Perhaps the Taint was the representation of that dark side. It certainly hadn't reacted well to Melann's holy blessings and had most certainly played a part in leading him here. It brought him to Destiny's Last Hope and the abandoned temple of the enigmatic Arach and Gyrison. Perhaps those priests had been disguised fiends, working to get him to come here to free Chare'en. If these things were true, then he'd done everything they'd wanted him to do. He was a prisoner of his own destiny.
'Vheod,' Whitlock said, swallowing his food, 'once again I owe you ray thanks. I didn't trust you, and you still went to great lengths to save me.'
'Perhaps you were right,' Vheod whispered.
'What?' Whitlock asked.
'Perhaps you were right not to trust me. Perhaps I am a fool for trusting myself.'
'Look,' Whitlock continued, 'the Ravenwitch- she's insane-mad and evil. I don't credit her with one word of truth. As far as I'm concerned, the things she said change nothing.'
'Nothing?' Melann interjected. 'You mean you still think we might be able to lift the curse on our family?' Vheod couldn't tell if she was hopeful or incredulous.
'I think that we would be fools to end our quest on the word of someone who was in the process of changing me into some raven creature.' Whitlock almost laughed- Vheod had to admit, in the light of day, miles away from the tree, it did almost seem absurd.
'And even if every word she said was truth-' he glanced at Vheod, then back to Melann- 'and I’ll admit I probably didn't hear everything, she did say the magical staff we seek might actually be with Chare'en, whatever his nature.'
'So you want to press onward,' Vheod said. 'Of course,' Whitlock answered.
'You never have told me,' Vheod said, 'how you came to find out about Chare'en and the staff in the first place.'
Whitlock and Melann exchanged glances, as if to decide who would relate the tale. Melann began to speak. 'In Archendale, we conducted research. We knew that ages ago an ancestor of ours had offended some powerful
