Sir Michael didn’t come after all. He sent a small page boy with the book that Lyla had requested, along with a second volume. Lyla looked curiously at it, flipping up the top cover. There, Michael had put a piece of paper with a written note.

“Lyla, I thought you might find this archive helpful in your research. – Michael.”

Lyla thumbed through pages. It was a small book. She set it to the side and reached for the larger tome. This was what she wanted. Carrying it to her bed, she sat cross-legged and settled back to read the old stories of legend – of the fierce Ragor and the Silent Queen, Melizzande.

She knew these stories by heart, and yet read them one more time, searching for clues – for anything pertaining to the Golden Scepter, and more particularly, velander.

________________________________________________________________________

Lord Martez glowered at the puny minion who had just run in from the ritual room.

“My lord!” he piped in a shrill voice, unbecoming to one claiming Yrganu blood.

“Speak, vermin.”

The small demon gulped, then dived into his recital, speaking quickly so that he stumbled over his tongue once or twice.

“The channels, they bid me tell you, my lord, that the enforcement is working! The group you have chosen is headed their way, completely focused on finding the golden scepter and its bearer!” his voice squeaked. “They should be there with a day or two, my lord.”

Martez smiled – a truly horrible sight – and he raised his head from the speaker to look around the room at his gathered servants.

“You see!” he proclaimed. “The humans shall fall to us – they who control us, shall be by us, dominated!”

The room erupted in mangled cheers, growls, and cheerful yappings by the younger minions.

“Peace,” Martez raised his hand. Instant silence ensued. “All of you have work to do. We are not nearly finished. You must all take your turns in the Ritual. Talk to the channels there. Find out when you will be summoned, and prepare yourself.”

The room chattered again, wings rustling and talons clicking on the pale stone. Everyone looked forward to the Ritual, that releasing of built-up power which made them mad with internal pressure. It could only get better with the addition of the Golden Scepter and its wielder.