[...quite some time ago...]

The tiny boat slid silently across the water, while the sun gently touched the horizon behind it. Two of its occupants rowed slowly, methodically, and carefully. The third occupant... her face hidden behind an white mask... sat at the bow and cast alternating glances at the towering island ahead of them, and the calm water below.

"I still don't know why you had to kill him, Kultra," said the rower on the left. Though he was only a boy of seventeen years, Michael rowed and spoke with an aura of seriousness that was more fitting of a much older man. His skin was mahogany brown, though there was very little of it exposed. He was dressed in loose-fitting black pants and a matching long sleeved shirt that effectively hid his thin, yet well-defined physique. The pants were tucked into a pair of supple leather boots, and the shirtsleeves likewise disappeared into a pair of black gloves. A black bandanna hid his hair and forehead, leaving only his face and neck exposed to the moist air.

"Well, we had to get the boat, didn't we?" answered his counterpart on the right. Kultra wore black as well, however he had ripped the sleeves off of his shirt, to display his extremely well-muscled arms to all who cared to look. His pale skin contrasted sharply with his black hair and pants. His smiling lips were framed by a mustache and goatee that added a deceptive maturity his appearance.

"Yes," said Michael. "But we could've just stolen it. You didn't have to kill him."

"Oh, where's the fun in THAT?!?"

"Hush, you two..." said the final occupant. She wore all black just like the others, but she also wore a white ivory mask over her face. It completely hid her features, leaving only two holes for her eyes and one for her mouth. There was a tiny bump for her nose, but the mask had no other details. The surface was smooth and polished. Tiny straps attached to the sides held it firmly in place no matter what movements she made. The woman's long, golden-brown hair was tied into a pony-tail which ran down the inside of her shirt like a rope. Two swords were strapped across her back, and another two rested in matching scabbards on each hip.

"Oh please, Masque," said Kultra. "How do you know they haven't already seen us?"

"I don't," she replied.

"You know... We could've avoided this little boat ride entirely. But noooo..."

"Kultra, be quiet."

"...I could have flown all three of us over to that island and we'd be on our way back right now. But noooo..."

"Because that would be against Zayvair's orders," said Michael. "He specifically told us not to use any magic once we get to the lake. Well, we're here, so NO shape-shifting, Kultra."

"No magic. Hmph. What are we supposed to kill these goons with... foul language?"

"They aren't goons are we aren't here to kill them," said Masque. She turned to face Kultra. Even with her face covered, her annoyance was obvious.

"Right," said Michael. "They're priests. And we have to borrow-"

"Steal!"

"- the Sword of Light from their temple."

"Yeah, and kill anyone that gets in the way. How 'bout you two leave that bit to me..." Kultra flexed his muscles.

"No unnecessary killing," said Michael. "And no shape-shifting."

"No shapeshifting," mocked Kultra. "You sound like a parrot. BWWAAK! No shapeshifting.... no shapeshifting.... BWAAAK!"

"Zayvair told us not to use our magic for a reason," said Masque. "Although I wish he would have told us what that reason was..."

"See! He didn't give us a reason, so we don't have to do it!"

Masque sighed.

"Kultra, unlike YOU, I relish the opportunity to prove my merits without relying on my... curse."

"I got nothin' to prove."

"And I am not ADDICTED to killing and brutality, like YOU are."

"You'll get no argument there. Oh, yeah! Beer, death, and woman... and beer.... and women..."

"You and I have it easy, Kultra. Michael's the one who's going to have the hardest time."

"I'll be fine."

"Sure," said Kultra. "Look at him... he looks like he's about to burst!"

"Shut up."

"Look-" Masque pointed at the island in front of them. It appeared to be one mountainous rock with a stone temple at its peak. The dark, foreboding face of the mountain loomed above them, nearly blocking the sky entirely.

"Yeah? It's a big rock... so?"

"Idiot. The shore..."

Indeed, the mountain didn't just jut out of the water, but had a small shelf of land around it. The beach was nearly submerged and unnoticeable from far away. From this distance, however, the trio could see the action of the waves as they broke across the shore.

"We'll hit land sooner than we thought," said Michael.

"Good. I'm tired of rowing. Let's get this over with."

Michael and Kultra steered the boat to the nearly-sunken shore where the trio disembarked. Kultra then pulled the small boat onto a tiny shelf of rock so the tide wouldn't carry it away.

"So how do we get in?" asked Kultra.

"Well... the priests have to get OUT somehow."

"Maybe they fly," said Kultra. "Or maybe they have secret tunnels under the lake."

"Don't be ridiculous, Kultra. There has to be an opening around here somewhere. Just let me get my things."

Masque retrieved a heavy knapsack from the boat. Though it was full, the bag made no noise as she slung it over her right shoulder.

"Hey, you gonna let me hold one of your swords, Masque?"

"Why didn't YOU bring your own, Kultra?"

"Why bring a sword when YOU'VE got fifty pounds of weaponry strapped to your body. Gimme a damn sword."

"Forget it."

"Oh come ON! Michael doesn't have any weapons either!"

"Sure I do." Michael lifted up his shirt, revealing a large assortment of throwing knives strapped to his waist.


"Knives. That's just great."

"Want to borrow some?"

"Kultra couldn't hit the ground if you pushed him off a mountain."

"Ha. Ha. Very Funny."

"Funny but true," said Michael. "Masque, give him a weapon so we can at least ATTEMPT a stealthy approach."

Masque sighed and removed a saber from her pack. She tossed it to Kultra.

"A saber? How about one of those katannas?"

"Forget it."

"But-"

"Forget it."

"But this-

"Forget it."

Kultra sighed, mumbled, and finally shut up. He strapped the blade to his belt and followed Michael and Masque as they walked along the base of the mountain. The sand beneath them was moist and made wet, sucking noises as they walked... but fortunately there was no one around to hear it but them.

"Where are the guards?" asked Kultra.

"This temple is supposed to be impenetrable," said Michael "So why have guards?"

"ANOTHER impenetrable temple? That's the third one in a row!"

"Shhh, you two."

"Hey, what's that-"

Michael pointed to a large opening in the rock just ahead of them. The trio approached as silently as the sucking sand would allow, and paused just outside the hole. It looked like a cave, but all they could see inside was darkness.

"Think it's the entrance?" said Kultra.

Michael kneeled down and began digging in the sand until he found a palm-sized rock. He stood, and threw the rock into the dark opening.

*...thump...*

"rrrRRRRROOOOOOAAAAARRRRRR!!!!"

The unseen creature's roar nearly shattered their eardrums.

"Nope."

"Nuh-uh."

"Let's go..."

Masque, Kultra and Michael scrambled quickly away from the opening. Whatever was in the cave wasn't following, but they didn't want to be around if it decided to change its mind.

A few minutes later, they pulled themselves up onto an outcropping of rock to rest. Masque and Michael sat down, while Kultra leaned against a flat place in the rocky face of the mountain. As soon as he applied his weight, the wall behind him swung around, dumping Kultra into the dark passage behind it.

"HEEEEEEyyy...-"

"Kultra?"

"Uhhh... I think I found the entrance. Maybe."

"Good job."

"Masque, break out the torches."

Masque unslung her back and removed three torches wrapped in cloth. She lit each torch and handed one to Michael and threw one into the passage.

"Ouch! Hey, watch where you throw those things!"

They entered the passage and immediately knew that this was the right place. The walls and floor were smooth, with uniform distance between them. Wide enough for two men to walk shoulder to shoulder; definitely not a natural formation.

"Okay. I'll lead."

Once again, Masque unslung her knapsack and looked inside. She pulled out four wooden rods, each about two feet long and just over an inch in diameter. Each one was threaded so that they could be screwed together, making a twelve-foot staff. Masque wrapped one end of the staff in a thin layer of padded cloth, then she extended it in front of her and began searching for traps. She waved it twice through the air... once horizontally from wall to wall, and once more vertically from floor to ceiling. Then she tapped along each of the walls, the floor, and the ceiling. The cloth muted the noise of the wood on the stone, allowing her to search without betraying their location.

"It's clear," she said. They walked a few feet, and then Masque repeated the search, looking for tripwires, pressure-plates, or any other potentially lethal device. Finding none, they walked further and searched again. They continued in such a manner for about half an hour before Masque's diligence was rewarded. She was tapping on the floor about six feet in front of them when...

*Ka-CHUNK!*

Four sharp iron spikes shot out of the left wall, and four more rose from the floor. The two sets of spikes formed a deadly lattice that would have impaled anyone unfortunate enough to have been standing on the touch-plate. The lattice also blocked any further progress down the tunnel.

"Damn," said Kultra. He started to turn around.

"Wait," said Michael. "Any GOOD trap will always reset itself-"

*click - CHOOOM!*

The iron spikes withdrew into their housings in the wall and floor, clearing the way.

"I hate it when you're right."

"Remember were that touch-plate was," said Masque. She pointed at a spot on the floor and made an exaggerated show of stepping over it.

They continued their slow progress. Four traps later, the tunnel took a sharp, upward turn. Two traps after that, the passage leveled out and the rough stone walls gave way to smooth, almost polished granite. The floor was covered in multi-colored tiles that formed large, complex designs beneath their feet.

"Beautiful," said Masque. She knelt down to examine the tiles. "Look at this workmanship-"

"Like we CARE about the floor, Masque." said Kultra.

"Well, one cannot perfect the killing arts without learning to appreciate its opposite... the art of creation."

"Oh, there she goes with that CRAP again."

"It's not crap; It's all about balance. Creation and destruction-"

"Well YOU stay here and drool on the floor. Gimme the trap-stick-thingy so me and Michael can get this over with."

"Masque, this design on the floor... what's it a picture of?"

"Oh, not you TOO!"

"A man with a sword," answered Masque. Indeed, the design was quite clear. It was a life-sized illustration of a man wearing purple and red robes, holding a glowing white sword. Each detail was perfectly formed by the tiny colored tiles. Beneath the man's feet were two lines of text... written in large letters.

"What's it say?" said Kultra.

"Those who defile the temple of Xno..."

"...shall face the fury of the Keepers," finished Masque.

"Temple of Snow?"

"Xno," corrected Michael. "In the ancient tongues it means 'weapon.'"

"Temple of Weapons," said Kultra. "Yeah. That makes sense."

"This cult worships the gods and goddesses of war. Judging from this, Vlarim the weapon-forger is probably rather high on their list of favorite deities. He supposedly forged the Sword of Light. Among other things."

"And what're the Keepers?"

Michael and Masque both shrugged.

"Great," said Kultra. "This glowing sword..."

"That's our target."

"So I guess the guy holding it is supposed to be the Keeper. He don't look so tough."

Michael and Masque looked at Kultra and shook their heads.

"Come on," said Michael. "Let's go..."

With staff in hand, Masque let them further into the mountain. They found no more traps, but Masque continued to check every eight feet just to be sure. Meanwhile, the passage slowly widened and the designs on the floor became more and more detailed. Most illustrated large battles and people fighting with various types of weapons, but the warning of the man with the glowing sword was repeated several times. Masque stopped to examine several of the larger drawings, which annoyed Kultra to no end.

Finally they reached what must have been the entrance to the temple itself. The dark passage ended abruptly in a huge, outdoor courtyard. It was dark, and the yard was lit with torches and moonlight. Directly across from the passage was a large stone building. Ornate columns supported a decorative dome that reached almost to the sky itself. One arched opening led to the interior of the temple... and on each side of the opening was an armed guard.

The guards were dressed in strange metal plate armor that covered their shoulders, chests, midriffs while leaving their sides and back exposed. There were wide allowances for the shoulder joints, which permitted a much greater freedom of movement than normal plate... at the cost of a little protection. Their arms were bare, as were their thighs. However, bulky metal-clad boots began just below the knees and enclosed everything from there down. Each man was holding a metal-tipped spear in one hand, and was wearing a short sword on his hip. Every piece of metal they wore was bright gold in color, and each had a green decorative sash across their left shoulder.

Masque crouched just inside the tunnel, with Michael and Kultra several yards behind her. They had already extinguished their torches.. Masque studied the guards and the open courtyard, then crept back into the tunnel.

"Good news and bad news," whispered Masque. "Bad news is we've got armed guards. Good news is that there's only two, and it looks like no alarms have been raised."

"Its about time we saw some action," said Kultra. "Let's go get 'em."

"Not so fast," said Michael. "We can't just go rushing out there."

"And why not?"

Michael didn't bother to explain. He just quietly walked to the mouth of the tunnel and crouched down just out of sight. Masque knelt beside him, with Kultra behind.

"Okay... we can't get past them. Unless we want to look for another way in, we'll have to get rid of them."

"See. Told you," said Kultra. "Let's go."

"Stay put."

Michael reached under his shirt and retrieved two throwing knives. He handed one to Masque.

"Can't get through that armor, but their necks are exposed." said Michael. "Go for the-"

"Voice box. So they can't scream."

"On three. One..."

Michael and Masque both drew back and took aim with their daggers.

"...two..."

Michael squinted. Behind her mask, Masque's brown eyes focused.

"...three."

Two identical daggers whizzed through the air.

*zzzz-THWOK!*

The daggers struck home. The guards reached for their throats, which were both fountaining blood. Then they fell. The guard's armor made a horrible noise is clattered onto the stone tiles.

*KLANG!*

"Damn! Forgot about that..."

"INTRUDERRRRS!"

Three more guards charged out of the temple.

"MY TURN!" yelled Kultra. Drawing Masque's saber, he charged toward the approaching men. When they saw him, the three men stopped, raised their spears, and threw them.

"WHOOOAAAA!" Kultra ducked, twisted and threw himself into a forward roll. The spears flew right past him. He leapt to his feet right in front of one of the guards. The man reached for his sword, but Kultra spun and swung his blade low... severing the large artery in the guard's thigh. As rich, red blood spurted from the wound, Kultra leapt back and opened the guard's throat with the tip of his saber.

The two remaining guards closed on Kultra, but he just smiled.

"Come and get it..."

"KULTRA! NO MAGIC!" yelled Michael as he and Masque rushed to join Kultra.

"Damn, " said Kultra. Masque sailed past him. She was airborne, with her foot extended a flying side-kick.

"HIIIII-YA!"

Though she was small, Masque's speed and the extra mass of all the weaponry she was carrying easily overcame the guard. They collided, and both went down, but by the time they hit the ground, Masque had already thrust a long, thin dagger under his jaw and upward into his lower brain. She got to her feet just in time to see Michael duck under the remaining guards sword and drive two daggers into the guard's exposed sides, puncturing his kidneys.

"OOOF!" The guard staggered backward and fell.

"I coulda done better," said Kultra.

*KLANG...click...click...click..."

"What's that?"

"The entrance!"

A large metal gate was rapidly lowering over the entrance. Barely audible over the mechanism, an alarm bell was ringing inside the temple

"Come on, we've got to get inside!"

They ran. Masque threw herself into a forward roll and slid under the barrier. Kultra was one second behind her, with Michael making it just in time to avoid being literally cut off.

"See," said Kultra. "If Michael could have used his magic-"

"We've got to get out of this main corridor before more guards come."

They were standing in a wide stone hallway. Torches lit the hall at regular intervals, revealing more of the elegant tile-work along the walls AND the floor. The corridor ran straight for as far as they could see, but there were many intersecting passages leading off of it.

The sounds of footsteps and rattling armor grew louder from the direction in front of them.

Masque, Kultra and Michael took a right at the first intersection they came to... and saw four guards running towards them.

"DUCK!"

Four spears sailed over their heads. They turned and ran the other direction, dashing across the main corridor just inches in front of a contingent of seven armed guards.

"GET THEM!"

With eleven guards behind them, the trio ran down the opposite hallway. This corridor didn't branch, but it had several twists and turns that prevented the guards from using their spears.

That is... until they hit the dead end.

"Oh, come ON!" shouted Kultra. "We're trapped!" He turned and prepared to fight.

"No... they wouldn't put a dead end here for no reason. Masque, help me look for a secret passage."

"We could have already passed it!"

"Just LOOK!"

Michael and Masque began frantically rubbing their hands across every inch of the wall.

"I say we just stand and fight. We can take 'em."

"Maybe we can take THEM, but how many more will be coming behind them?"

As if on cue, the guards rounded the corner.

"HALT!"

"GOT IT!" Masque pressed on a stone, which sank smoothly into the wall. Then the entire wall behind them rotated, carrying the trio into an adjoining corridor

"YES!"

"They're still behind us! Block the wall!"

"Move!" Kultra shoved Michael and Masque out of the way and leaned heavily against the rotating section of wall. His muscles bulged as he added more pressure, preventing the section from rotating again. "UNNGH! Can't hold this forever! Find something to jam the mechanism!"

"Here!"

Michael jammed one of his daggers into the space between the rotating section and the wall. Then he added another one for good measure.

"That won't hold for long."

"Doesn't have to. We've got to move."

The corridor behind them ran only a short distance before it branched into a three-way split. Each of the three passages looked identical... dark and foreboding.

"Which way?"

"We should split up!" said Michael. "Let the guards divide their numbers chasing us individually while WE look for the sword."

"How are we going to find each other?"

"We'll come back here when it's safe."

"Okay."

"Remember... NO MAGIC! And Kultra... TRY not to get lost."

"What! That only happened ONE TIME!"

They heard the wall rotating behind them, and the shouting of the guards grew louder.

"They're IN!"

"GO!"

Kultra took the right corridor and Masque took the one on the left. With a dagger in each hand, Michael ran down the center corridor just seconds before guards arrived.

---

Masque heard the guards behind her, and she paused briefly so she could listen. There were three of them. She knew she could take them... perhaps not easily, but she could do it. But SHOULD she? Maybe there was another way.

She jogged forward, her soft-soled boots making no sound at all on the stone floor. Masque kept track of every curve and turn that the corridor made as it snaked its way deeper into the complex. She sped up when needed, so that whenever the guards were coming around one corner, she was out well out of sight around the next one.

Can't do this forever. I can avoid these three easily, but not a full-fledged search party.

Masque ran until she came to a sharp curve in the corridor. She listened... there was no one coming the other direction. This was as good a place as any to make a stand. She drew her swords - twin katannas - from the sheaths across her back. Then she backed up a few steps and waited.

The three guards rounded the corner a few seconds later, and came face to face with a sword-wielding woman wearing a white mask. Two guards raised their spears and foolishly tried to impale her. Masque took three running steps toward them and leapt into the air. She flipped in over and between the guards heads, slashing her swords out and down.

*ch-CHOCK*

The blades cut cleanly through the spears, leaving the two guards with blunt wooden sticks. As they drew their swords, Masque came out of her flip and landed with both feet planted squarely on the third guard's chest. She rode him down as he fell, and when he hit the floor she thrust her left katanna into his throat. She tucked her head and immediately launched into a forward roll. She came to her feet, instinctively blocking the guards' swords with both blades. She spun and blocked again, but added a kick to one guard's knee. Despite the softness of her boots, the kick shattered the joint. The guard went down as his comrade charged. Masque ducked, spun and came up behind him. She slashed at his exposed back before he could turn to face hr. The blade sliced the muscle and slipped neatly between two lower vertebrae, severing the spinal cord. He went down, and it was doubtful that he would be getting up again soon... if ever. The guard with the injured knee, however, was up and hobbling towards her.

"I gave you a chance to get away," said Masque. "But I guess you're too stupid."

"We live to protect the temple from infidels!" was the guard's half-hearted reply.

"Oh, well."

Masque pretended to slash at him with her sword. As he tried to block, she kicked his good leg out from under him and caught him by the neck as he fell. One sharp twist and it was over.

"Okay... now to find that magic sword."

She inspected the guard's weapons and, finding that none of them were as good as her own, left them and continued down the corridor.

Masque had only gone a few minutes when she smelled fresh air coming from up ahead.

"Hmmm..."

She was standing by an intersection, and Masque wondered if the other corridors lead to where Michael was. Or Kultra. She was trying to decide when she heard the unmistakable sound of guards approaching from BOTH intersecting hallways. LOTS of guards.

"Damn!"

She ran straight ahead, and found herself in an open courtyard similar to the one outside the temple. Just across from her was another hallway. The hallway was wider and it appeared to have more light than the one she was in... as if it lead somewhere important. No matter... with those guards behind her, she didn't have much choice. She ran into the courtyard and was only halfway across when seven guards emerged from the corridor ahead of her. She turned back, only to see five more coming that direction.

There were no other exits. She was trapped.

And not only that, but these guards were larger, and wearing more armor than the others. Their sashes were red instead of green, and they carried halberds and longwords, instead of spears and short-swords. It could have meant that they were LESS skilled than the first guards she fought, but somehow Masque didn't think she would be that lucky. All indications showed that she was reasonably close to something important... and these guards were here to protect it.

"THERE SHE IS! GET THE INTRUDER!!!"

Twelve armed and angry guards charged from two directions.

Instinctively, Masque reached for the straps on her mask. But as her fingers touched the leather, she remembered Zayvair's warning, and Michael's constant reminders about using magic within the Temple of Xno.

She would have to do this the hard way.

Masque drew both katannas with a smooth, fluid motion. The first of the guards swung his halberd in a downward chop. Masque raised her blades in an 'X' and caught the staff. Unfortunately, the halberd's staff was metal, and her razor-sharp katannas didn't slice it in half as she had planned. Instead, she had to jump back to avoided a low kick from the guard, then duck to keep from losing her head to the man behind her. She jumped and threw a flying back-kick that knocked the man down, but ultimately did no lasting damage. She was about to follow with a front kick to the halberd-wielder before her, but the rest of the guards closed in.

Masque wasn't foolish enough to think that she could fight this many armed men in an open courtyard... but if she could only reach one of the corridors she would have a chance. The guards fought well... whenever she did manage to land a strike, it rarely caused enough damage to be useful. She ducked, dodged and blocked, but the guards hemmed her in expertly. They circled her, allowing no room to escape.

Masque's heart raced. She was rapidly running out of maneuvers, not to mention fighting room. There was only one way out of this.

Sorry Zayvair... but I'm not going to die for some stupid glowing sword...

Somewhere between ducking under a halberd and leaping over a longsword, Masque dropped her katannas. Both hands went to her head and snatched the ivory mask away from her face.

Masque's power was released It was the curse of a foolish young maiden who boasted that her unborn child's beauty would rival that of the gods. And for that, the gods punished her by branding the child with a twisted, horrible affliction. The curse caused every mortal that looked upon Masque's face to suffer visions of the thing they feared most. Hers was the face of fear. Of stark, raving terror. Since childhood, her face had to remain hidden, lest those who saw her face run screaming from her presence, or fall upon their own swords in horror. But now the curse was free.

Masque spun slowly, so that each of her attackers could catch a glimpse of her face. The effect was instantaneous.

Before she had completed a full spin, the sounds and shouts of battle were replaced with screaming howls of terror. Masque never knew what her victims saw then they beheld her, but it was enough to made several men throw down their weapons and run for fear of their lives. A few others froze like statues... eyes wide and mouths gaping. Then they, too, would either fall unconscious or bolt like frightened rabbits.

"IT IS THE KEEPERS!" Shouted one guard. "RUNNNN!!!" He quickly took his own advice and vanished from the rapidly emptying courtyard

"WE ARE DOOMED!!!" screamed another. "MAY THE GODS HAVE MERCY UPON US!" This man fell to his knees and began praying as the fear welled up inside him. Finally he fell backward and passed out.

The last guard in the courtyard had apparently been driven mad by whatever it was he saw. He stood rooted to one spot, ripping out fistfuls of his own hair and screaming continuously while tears ran like rivers out of his eyes. When his lungs emptied, he would take a deep breath and scream again. And again. And again.

Masque felt sorry for them. She felt sorry for ALL of them, for everyone who had happened to see their own deepest fear in her face. But most of all she felt sorry for herself. Her curse had made her an outcast since birth... her own mother killed herself just hours after having her. No man would have her. No town would abide her presence. And no amount of training or magic had been able to control her terrible ability. All she could do was hide behind a mask.

Suddenly Masque felt a pulse of energy flow through the courtyard. She looked around to see what mage or priest had entered the fray, but all she saw the stone floor and walls. All around her, the stone glimmered and took on a liquid appearance... like water. Then, as the enchantment ran its course, the walls and floor became smooth like glass. Like mirrors.

No. They WERE mirrors.

"NOOOOO!!!!"

Masque's eyes clamped shut, but it was too late. She caught a glimpse of her own face in the suddenly reflective surfaces surrounding her. One glimpse... one brief image. But it was enough. For Masque was as mortal as any other, and just as susceptible to her own power.

Masque screamed as the hideous image burned into her mind like a hot iron... uncovering the years of pain and sorrow. Not the pain she HAD endured, but the pain she feared she WOULD endure. The image was of an old, ancient woman... shriveled and decrepit... her body twisted by years of loneliness and contempt... and still wearing an ivory mask.

"NOOOOOOOOO-"

Masque's mind shut itself against the image and the terror that it brought... and the lone woman fell unconscious to the ground.

---

As soon as he realized he was being followed, Kultra stopped and waited for the guards to reach him. There were only two of them, after all...

One guard launched a spear in Kultra's direction, while the other drew his sword and charged, apparently assuming that his comrade's spear would miss.

Kultra side-stepped the spear and engaged the guard with the sword. Sword and saber clashed, then both combatants leapt back to make room for another strike. As the guard swung, Kultra spit in the man's face, kicked him in the crotch and tripped him up. The guard stumbled and out of the way while Kultra dealt with the second guard. He spun and slashed as the man ran towards him, but his saber ran harmlessly across the man's chestplate. Kultra had to duck to keep possession of his head. He launched into a forward roll and the guard's longsword clanged noisily on the stone behind him. Kultra rolled to his feet, spun, and jerked to the side to avoid a thrust. While the attacking guard's arm was extended, Kultra grabbed it and twisted it behind the man's back. Then he grabbed the back of guard's head and rammed him face-first into the stone wall. The guard went limp. Kultra repeated the maneuver for good measure, then repeated it AGAIN just because he liked the sound the guard's skull made against the stone. From the corner of his eye, Kultra saw the remaining guard charge.

Again, swords clashed in the dark corridor. They traded thrusts, parries and slashes for several seconds before Kultra got the better of him with a deep slice across the midsection, just below the guard's armor. The dying guard joined his comrade on the floor.

"Hmph," said Kultra as he wiped the single bead of sweat from his forehead. "And I thought this mission was supposed to be hard."

Kultra shook his head and walked away.

He navigated the torch-lit corridors with abandon, stopping only occasionally to listen for guards. Once he thought he heard men screaming, but he attributed that to his imagination and continued down the hall. He came to several intersections, but none of the new passages looked any more promising than the one he was in. Not that THAT one looked very promising.

Kultra couldn't tell how long he'd been walking before he came to the realization that he was completely lost. All the corridors looked identical, and they all seemed to lead only to more corridors.

"It's a maze," he mumbled. "I hate mazes."

Kultra tried reverse his route and find his way back to where he, Michael and Masque had split up. He failed miserably, but as luck would have it, Kultra found himself in a noticeably wider hallway that lead out into an open courtyard. Kultra strolled out into the open air and took a few deep breaths. The moon was high above him, and between the moonlight and the torches in the courtyard, Kultra could see many of the details of his surroundings. The elegant tile artwork on the floor... the wide, arched corridor just across from the one from which he had just emerged... and the eight or so guards that were running out of that corridor waving halberds and longswords.

"Uh-oh."

Kultra felt woefully inadequate was he drew Masque's saber from his belt. He thought about running... but by the time the order reached his legs he was surrounded. Four of the guards ran *past* him to block the other corridor while the other guards confronted him.

Hell... these guys probably fight worse than the ones I already killed.

"Better give up now, ladies," said Kultra. "Or else I'm gonna have to hurt ya."

"KILL HIM!"

"Have it your way. I aim to please..."

All eight guards charged. Kultra ran for the nearest wall, swinging wildly at swords and halberds as they tried to take pieces of his flesh. He turned, and, with his back against the wall, blocked two men while ducking under a third. He fought to keep them back as he tried to make his way toward the nearest corridor, but it was a loosing battle. In seconds, deep wounds poured blood from his arms and chest. So far, he'd kept from being impaled or beheaded, but he was certainly going to either bleed to death or be hacked slowly to pieces.

"Okay... Zayvair's little game is over. Time for Kultra to do what he does best..."

Kultra threw himself at one of the men. He grabbed the guard's halberd and snatched it away just as another guard's sword carved a deep gouge down Kultra's arm.

"ARRRGH!"

Kultra spun, ducked and rammed the halberd into the offending guard's midsection.

"Ahhhh...."

Kultra felt the guard die, and as his soul was released, he felt the binding life energies flowing into the air around him. Kultra reached out... not with his hands or his mind... but with that part of his own soul that fed on the death energies of others. It had been his talent since birth, and he knew how to make good use of it. Time seemed to stand still as he drew the dark power into his body. The energy flowed through his veins like icy water... soaking his cells... repairing them... changing them...

Kultra formed an image in his mind and his energized body responded. Bones lengthened and muscles bulged. His skin turned from pale white to dark green. It gathered in tiny patches and thickened into a layer of heavy, armored scales. Bony, inch long blades sprouted from his fingertips. His lower spine began to elongate... the beginnings of a lethal, whip-like tail.

All the guards backed away as Kultra grew taller and larger... changing from a man into something inhuman.

Kultra never felt the burst of power pulse through the room, but he felt the effects immediately. Kultra froze. His nightmarish transformation halted before it was even half-done, and then Kultra felt his body returning to normal as the death energy was drained out of him like ale from a spigot..

"Huh?" he said. "That's not supposed to hap-"

"My guards have dedicated themselves to the gods of war." said a voice in Kultra's head. "I control them... both body and soul. And when you absorb their energy, I gain control over YOU. Welcome back to humanity, Infidel."

"Hey! That's not fair!"

"Perhaps you should sleep."

Kultra was unconscious before his brain could even formulate a response.

---

Michael made his way quickly but cautiously down the corridor, all the while listening to the sounds of his pursuers. There were two of them not far behind, but he had no way of telling how many there were wandering the labyrinthine halls of the temple. An alarm had been raised, so every guard with two feet and a weapon would be walking around looking for him and the others. One thing was certain, however. He would have to get rid of his pursuers before he could do anything else.

He had a plan. Michael quickly extinguished six of the torches along a stretch of the hallway. The resulting darkness hid him well, but there was still a risk that the guards would stumble across him. Besides his throwing knives, Michael had a dagger strapped to each of his legs. The blades were thick, with good, solid, very expensive construction. He ruined them both by shoving them into the cracks between the bricks and using them as climbing spikes. His legs were just long enough to span the width of the hallway, so by pressing his feet against the walls and using his daggers as hand-holds, Michael managed to suspend from the ceiling. He hung there like a spider while the guards approached.

"Hey, the torches went out..." said one of the guards.

What geniuses these guys are... thought Michael. His legs were already growing tired, but he couldn't afford to slip now.

"Maybe he's hiding in the dark..."

Michael heard both guards draw their swords and enter the darkened section of hallway. They swung their weapons back and forth ahead of them, searching for him the same way Masque had checked for traps.

Fortunately, neither of them thought to check the ceiling.

Michael couldn't see them as they passed under him, but the rattle of their armor and the 'woosh' of their swords told him when they were gone. Michael's legs were trembling and burning with the effort, but he continued to hang from the ceiling for a few more minutes before dropping to the floor.

His landing was less than graceful. The exertion had sapped all the energy from his legs, which collapsed under him when he landed. Michael took a few moments to rub the fire out of his thighs, calves and feet, then he began retracing his path back the way he had come.

He arrived at the original three-way split where he Masque and Kultra had separated. As he expected, neither of them were there.

"I hope Masque isn't in trouble," said Michael. The fact that Kultra would run into trouble was a foregone conclusion. Finding trouble was what Kultra did best, and he'd would provide a distraction while Michael and Masque continued the mission.

Taking the same corridor he had before, Michael vanished into the depths of the temple.

---

As he navigated the labyrinth, Michael ran into five guards. They were all dead. The first three corpses were all Masque's handiwork. Michael recognized the quick, clean kills, the broken weapons, and the thin, accurate wounds made by her katannas. He found the other two a short while later in another corridor. Kultra had undoubtedly taken them out. At least he hadn't been as brutal as he usually was. The bodies were still warm, which meant that Kultra must be nearby. Given the fighter's penchant for attracting trouble, Michael though that perhaps it would be best to chose another corridor to explore. He walked for only a few minutes when he heard the sounds of men fighting. LOTS of men fighting.

"That doesn't sound good."

The echoes made the battle hard to place, and by the time Michael found the courtyard the fight was over. Peering from the shadows, he saw a group of guards carrying an unconscious man into a wide, arched opening just across from him. The guards were dressed differently than the ones he had seen earlier. Most noticeable was the presence of a red sash across their golden chestplates. Their weapons were different as well, and even the way they moved told of a higher level of strength and balance.

Probably some kind of elite guard. Great. But at least that means I'm getting closer.

The man the guards were carrying was Kultra. He didn't look dead, but that would probably change very shortly. Kultra would have to be rescued.

Michael waited until the men were gone, then stepped into the empty courtyard with the intention of following them. As soon as he entered, Michael felt that something was wrong. There was an eerie intensity in the air that sent tiny chills up his back. It wasn't magic... or at least not ACTIVE magic. No... this was different. Like the courtyard was watching him. Everything around him... the walls, the floor, even the torches that lit the scene... seemed to be focusing on him with some latent, unnatural intelligence. The courtyard was watching. It was waiting. Yes... Michael got the distinct feeling that something, somewhere, was WAITING.

Trap, he thought. Michael froze in mid-stride and ran his eyes over every corner of the courtyard. He saw nothing, but even with the moonlight and torches, there were plenty of dark, hidden places. Perhaps there was a trip-wire somewhere. Maybe THAT'S what took Kultra out. Michael began to slowly back out of the yard. He didn't try to turn around; instead, he carefully retraced his footsteps and walked backwards toward the corridor.

As he did, he heard the sound of several guards running in his direction from the hallway in front of him.

"Damn."

His presence in the courtyard must have set off an alarm. But was that all? Is that what he felt? Either way, he had to get out of here. Even if there were only a few guards on their way, there were lots more nearby and he couldn't possibly fight all of them. At least not without using his magic. It would be so easy then. All he had to do was... No. No, Zayvair warned them against that, so Michael's options were limited to running... and running.

The first two guards reached the courtyard, but there were five more right behind them. Michael threw two daggers, each found a guard's throat. Both men fell backwards into the corridor, and their falling bodies delayed the others for a precious instant. Michael was already speeding down the opposite hallway, running back the way he had just come. When he reached the two dead guards he spotted on the way in, he paused just long enough to grab their weapons... a spear and a short-sword... and then turned the nearest corner. He ran a few yards, stopped, and then ran back towards the guards who were just turning the corner behind him.

He caught the first one with the spear. The combination of the guard's momentum and Michael's drove the metal point right through the guard's armor, impaling him through the abdomen. The impact knocked Michael backwards, just out of reach of another guard's long halberd. Staggering to catch his balance, Michael fell, rolled to his feet, and then launched two more daggers into the approaching group. One blade bounced off of a guard's chestplate, and the other was actually *deflected* by a skillfully wielded halberd. Michael kept running as the guards followed.

This was going to be harder than he thought. He'd managed to catch three of them by surprise, but those tricks certainly wouldn't work again. If only he could use his magic. Just once. In fact, the rapidly deteriorating situation was forcing him to struggle more and more NOT to use his magic. .Masque had been right... Michael's abilities were so much a part of him that forsaking them was like fighting both hands tied behind his back. Damn near impossible.

No... thought Michael. There's more to me than my magic. I am a student of Zayvair, and he has taught me well. Skill. Intelligence. Control. THESE are what I must rely on. THESE will get me out of this... not innate magic or cheap parlor tricks.

Michael hazarded a glance behind him. Two of the guards were still there.

Only TWO?

He did the arithmetic in his head... there should be FOUR men behind him, not two. Michael had begun to wonder about the others when the answer came to him. This was a labyrinth... but it was THEIR labyrinth. If there was a shorter way to get from point A to point B, then the guards would certainly know it. That's where the other two went.... they were trying to cut him off!

Too bad that plan's going to backfire on them...

There was an intersecting corridor just ahead... a dark opening on the right. Michael grasped his sword, and as he drew close, he spun and slashed with the sword using all his strength. The blade caught the guard in the gut just as he emerged from the corridor. Michael had aimed the blade at the lower edge of the guard's chestplate... the sword struck bare flesh...

"URK!"

Michael had to drop the sword to avoid loosing his hands to the second guard's halberd. With the others rapidly approaching, Michael grabbed the halberd while it was extended. Then he leaned to one side and brought his foot to the man's temple with a vicious roundhouse kick. The guard's grip loosened, and Michael yanked the halberd free. He reversed his grip and rotated the weapon, sending blade arcing downward toward the guard's face. The guard jumped backwards and drew his sword, but Michael kicked at the man's hand and swung the halberd again. This time it connected, sinking into the guard's exposed neck. Michael grabbed the bleeding guard before he could fall and swung him around into the path of the two remaining men. One man collided with the dying guard and they went down in a heap of heavy armor. Michael tossed the halberd away and recovered his shortsword just as the next guard swung his own weapon.

The swords met...

*CLANG!*

Both men danced apart and made counterstrikes. Michael's was a little faster than the guard's. The guard backed away, trailing blood from a nasty, but non-lethal gash across his lower abdomen. The other guard was on his feet now, and, after a moment's pause, they both charged.

Now it was an even fight. Two against one, and the unarmored Michael armed with only one weapon. But one guard was already injured, which made his attacks weak and slow. Michael engaged them a stern countenance and a firm grasp of his sword. The halls echoed with the sounds of metal against metal. Strike... counterstrike... parry, block... strike... Michael fought like a whirlwind. He knew that this fight had to end quickly before the sounds brought the other guards. He kept at them, concentrating most of his attacks on the injured guard. As Michael suspected, the uninjured man was more concerned with taking Michael's' head than helping his injured comrade. The bleeding man grew weaker as Michael wore him down with slashes and jabs, all while blocking the attacks from the other guard. Finally the guard fell when Michael's blade opened his throat. Immediately, Michael spun and rained thrusts, slashes and parries upon the remaining man. Skilled though the guard was, he too quickly fell beneath Michael's blade.

Sweating and out of breath, Michael had no choice but to rest. His efforts... the supreme effort of NOT using his abilities... had taken a lot out of him. Michael's head and heart were both pounding, but he had done it. He was vastly outnumbered, yet he triumphed without the use of any magic. Skill and Intelligence... and the Control it had taken to contain his innate abilities during the battle... had won out.

That was the lesson that Zayvair had wanted them to learn. That was the purpose of his seemingly ridiculous restriction.

He smiled and nodded.

Now... let's see about Kultra and that sword...

---

Kultra opened his eyes and instantly became aware of two things. The first was that he was still alive, although, judging from the pain of the many fresh bruises all over his body, the guards had probably taken a few liberties before someone decided to let him live. Still, he was alive, awake, and he could still feel his extremities. That was good.

The second thing he became aware of was his surroundings. He was laying on his back, strapped to a sturdy wooden-and-metal table. Heavy leather belts restrained his arms, legs, neck, and chest. He couldn't move, or even lift his head to look around. What little he could see of the room was from his peripheral vision. He could tell that the room was large, with stone walls and a high ceiling that Kultra could not see despite the fact that he was looking straight up at it. The light from the room's many torches simply didn't reach that far up. The walls... at least the two that Kultra could see... were decorated with weapons of every sort.... from the spears, halberds and swords that he was more than familiar with, to more esoteric implements like sai, bolos and scimitars. Kultra shared the room with several bed-length wooden tables, each equipped with the same type of straps that were restraining him. Spaced amid the larger tables were smaller ones that held trays of instruments. Most were knives of varying sizes, but there were tiny scissors, hooks and saws as well. Either this was some type of infirmary or it was a torture chamber. Whatever it was, Kultra was trapped. That was bad.

"Unnnngh..."

The sound came from beside him. Kultra strained to turn his head, but he strap across his neck bit into his throat and made it difficult to breathe when he faced any direction other than straight up.

"...dammit..." he swore.

"Kultra is that you?"

"Masque?"

"They've got this thing across my throat-"

"Ditto. Are you hurt?"

"Not physically. Having one's own power turned against you doesn't exactly make for a good day, though."

"Tell me about it. They got me too. I don't know how they did it. Some kind of... hell, I don't know."

"At least they had the common sense to put my mask back on. Don't know how they managed THAT, either."

"You think they got Michael?"

There was a pause while they both listened, and then...

"If he's in here, he's still unconscious."

"Or dead," added Kultra.

"I wonder why we AREN'T. What are they holding us for?"

Kultra heard someone approaching, but he couldn't see the room's door from his position.

"I think we're about to find out. Somebody's coming."

Someone entered the room. A shadow fell across Kultra, and then a man stepped into his field of view, and stood between Kultra and Masque.

The high priest was tall, well over six feet. He was slim, but not skinny. The man's lithe, well muscled body was covered from head to toe in a colored oil that gave his skin a golden sheen. His bald head glistened particularly bright in the torchlight. The man's only clothing was a wide blue sash draped across his shoulder and tied loosely around his waist, giving him the appearance of a giant, golden gladiator. He looked down at the two prisoners and studied them slowly without saying a word.

"Hey Goldy," said Kultra. "With a head as ugly as yours, maybe you should consider letting your hair grow. But I guess you'd have to paint it gold then, eh? Who are you, anyway?"

"Silence, fool."

Kultra recognized the voice. It was the same one that he heard in his head just as his powers started going

crazy. Had he done that?

"That's interesting. So would 'fool' be your first name or your last name then?"

"I am Weliek, high Priest of the temple of Xno."

"Ohhhhh. I'm impressed. Never met a high priest before. Met quite a few LOW ones, though."

"You are intruders. Thieves."

"You'll get no argument there. But hey, we did you a favor by testin' out your security. For an 'impenetrable temple,' it sure was easy to get in."

Weliek chuckled.

"What's funny? See yourself in a mirror somewhere?"

"The Temple of Xno is inviolate. Its structure.. like that of the entire island... has been enchanted by the gods to counteract ANY magic used within its walls. That is why YOU TWO infidels were so easily captured."

"Well, I'm glad you've got SOME kind of security around here, because your guards can't fight worth a damn."

"HA! The guards are but humble worshipers. By dying in battle they ascend directly to the heavens."

"Yeah, sure. They ALL say that..."

"But even had you REACHED the Sanctum, you would not have survived the Keepers."

"Whatever."

"Tell me, infidel... who sent you. Was it Zayvair? Are you here to retrieve the Sword of Light?"

"Don't know what you're talking about. I got lost and was just looking for directions back to your mother's brothel. Or was it your sisters? I get confused... they're both such good-"

"SILENCE! I know why you are here. I know that Zayvair sent you."

"Never heard of him."

"Oh, I'm afraid I can't believe that. Your one-armed master came here weeks ago to bargain for the Sword. He thought it would be of use to him in defeating an old enemy... but the Sword is sacred, and cannot leave this Temple."

"Too bad. Woulda saved your people lot of grief."

"I knew he would send his students to steal the Sword. His 'best and brightest' as he called you. How unfortunate... now Zayvair will need to find new students."

"Whatever you say, Goldy."

"So why all the talk?" said Masque. "If you're going to kill us, do it and get it over with."

"Uhhh, Masque," hissed Kultra. "Shut up. I'm handling this."

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" said Weliek. "You would love for me to relieve you of the future you fear so much."

Masque twisted uncomfortably on the table.

"Yes... I witnessed your magic. I saw your own fear used against you. It was quite a spectacle. It seems that both of you have been blessed with very interesting abilities. Dredging up a man's greatest fear with naught but a glance-"

"If it's so interesting, why don't you take off my mask and take a GOOD look."

"...Altering your own body by absorbing the souls of others-"

"It's energy; not souls. Get it straight."

"Very powerful. Very appealing. The gods of war will enjoy the strength of your magic after we sacrifice you."

"Ohhh, boy. Here we go, again. Why do you zealots ALWAYS have to sacrifice people. Aren't there any chickens on this island? Or goats? How about-"

"The gods demand strength. Power. Greatness. There has not been a human sacrifice in this temple for decades... simply because there were none capable of pleasing the gods. Until now."

"And let me guess. This little ceremony will conveniently take place tonight."

"The equinox will not occur for many months... and during that time you will be made ready. You will be tortured endlessly; your screams will reach the very home of the gods. When they come to claim you, your souls will have been bent and broken under the yoke of agony. The hook and the blade shall render you-"

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Yoke of agony. Whatever."

"Shall we begin now?"

Kultra heard a faint noise. He strained his neck to see Weliek arranging a tray of torture implements on a table... but that wasn't the noise he heard.

"Wait," said Kultra. "Don't you want to know where our friend is?"

"Kultra!" spat Masque.

"Do not try to bargain for your freedom. It will do you no good. If the third thief possesses magic equal to your own, then he will be captured and sacrificed alongside you. Unless he reaches the Sanctum, in which case the Keepers will tear him apart."

"Oh. I just figured I'd save you and your boys the trouble of looking for him. He's crafty... he could be anywhere. But I know where he is."

Weliek turned to look at Kultra.

"What game are you playing, infidel?"

"No games. You wanna know where he is or not?"

"Tell me."

"Are you sure?"

Weliek frowned. He removed a tiny, sharp dagger from the table and walked towards Kultra.

"No more games. If you know where he is, tell me. Now."

"Okay. He's right behind you."

"Wha-"

KA-THUNK!

Michael swung a heavy mace at the back of Weliek's skull. The high priest fell, and his forehead smacked hard against the hard stone floor. Bleeding from both the front and back of his head, Weliek twitched and lay still.

"Are you okay, Masque?" asked Michael.

"Fine."

"Me too, thanks for asking."

"Good job," said Michael. "I could have never gotten behind him if you hadn't distracted him. If he'd called for help, we'd be in a world of trouble."

"Yeah... now get us out of these straps."

Michael quickly freed his friends.

"Is this guy dead?" said Kultra as he slid off of the table. He kicked Weliek's unmoving form just for good measure. "How about we kill him again just to be sure-"

"No time. Grab some weapons and let's go get that Sword."

"Do you know where it is?" said Masque.

"I know exactly where it is, but it'll take all three of us to get it."

Masque found her bag of weapons in a corner. Her katannas were dented and dull from the earlier combat, so she left them behind and took her longswords instead. Kultra's saber... which he had borrowed from Masque... was equally bad off. He grabbed a golden-hued broadsword from the wall and made a few practice slashes with it.

"Good balance. Light weight." he said. "It'll do."

"Too bad there isn't any armor in here," said Masque. "We could use some."

"Armor is for sissies," said Kultra.

Michael placed the metal mace back on the wall where he had gotten it. Beside it was a longsword identical the ones the guards used. He grabbed it.

"All right... there are about fifteen guards between this room and the Sanctum."

"Just fifteen?"

"And no more magic! Kultra!"

"Hey, I wasn't the only one!"

"Come on. Let's go..."

With weapons drawn, Michael, Masque and Kultra ran from the room, leaving the High Priest's bleeding body on the floor.

---

The hallway outside was different from the others they had seen. It was wider, more than wide enough for the three of them to walk abreast. The floor had the same familiar decorative tiles, but now the walls were covered with them as well. Each design was either a battle or a weapon of some kind. Instead of torches, the hall was lit with large oil lamps set on small ledges at regular intervals along the wall. The oil in the lamps burned unusually bright, making it quite difficult to look directly at one. They bathed the hallway in white light... creating near-daylight conditions despite the complete absence of windows.

As they exited the room, Kultra saw two dead guards just outside the doorway. They both had one of Michael's daggers protruding from their throats. Michael led Masque and Kultra down the deserted section of hallway, passing a few other rooms and several intersecting corridors.

"How far is it?" said Kultra.

Michael said nothing. They made a sharp left turn...

"THERE!" shouted a guard. "THE INTRUDERS HAVE ESCAPED!"

There had to be at least twenty of the temple's inner guard... complete with halberds and longswords... standing at the end of the hallway, outside a huge set of double doors.

"THEY SEEK TO VIOLATE THE SANCTUM! KILL THEM!"

Every last one of them charged.

Michael, Masque and Kultra formed a line, with Kultra in the center. Each had their weapons ready, and when the guards reached them they threw themselves into the fray. Though the guards outnumbered them, the hallway constricted their attacks so that no more than four could fight at one time. And... four at a time... they were mowed down. Kultra struck with power and strength... often knocking weapons out of his opponent's hands when they tried to block. Michael and Masque made quick, accurate strikes with their swords and combined them with kicks and punches aimed at exposed points on the armored guards.

One guard tried to strike at Michael from a distance with his halberd. Kultra rammed his sword through the man's gut, while Michael relieved the guard of his weapon.

"We're wasting time here," said Michael. "You two deal with them while I get the sword."

Michael backed up and then got a running start. When he reached the line of guards, he jammed the blunt end of the pole arm onto the floor and let his momentum carry him up into the air... and over the heads of the surprised guards.

He landed hard, but rolled to his feet and immediately ran for the large double doors. Three guards broke free from the combat at the end of the hall and ran towards him. Michael pulled on the doors. They were locked.

"Damn."

He turned and threw himself at the guards. He went low, ducking under the first guard's sword and tackling his legs. When Michael stood he had the guard's sword in his hands. He had exchanged it for one of his daggers, which he had placed in the guard's neck.

The two remaining guards struck as one. Michael stepped forward and ducked under the slashing weapons. He twisted and swung his blade, opening a huge gouge along one guard's arm, while simultaneously kicking the legs out from under the other. He followed with a spinning roundhouse kick that broke the downed guard's neck. Michael and the remaining guard exchanged strikes several times before the guard died in a pool of his own blood.

"Now for the door."

Michael pulled a set of lockpicks from his boot and set to work. The lock on the door was huge... which made it very easy to pick. With all the light in the room, he could put his eye to the keyhole and SEE the tumblers as he manipulated them.

*KLUNK!*

The lock disengaged. Michael shoved open the doors. Behind him, a few more guards turned to follow him, but they were quickly mowed down by Kultra and Masque, who had no qualms about killing them from behind.

Michael entered the Sanctum. It was a large, rectangular room that reeked of sweat and incense. Six towering statues, each eight feet high, lined the two longer walls. Each one was of a man wearing priests robes and with their powerful arms folded across their chests. They stared out into the room as if looking on in judgment of anyone who entered. At the far end of the room, behind the altar, was a seventh statue. Michael recognized it as the same figure he had seen depicted in the tiles outside the temple. The statue was holding a scabbard... cradling it in its arms like a baby. The scabbard held a sword.

Michael looked around. There was no one else in the room, although there probably would be very shortly when more guards arrived. He ran up the altar and drew his own weapon. He tapped around the base of the statue, and then hit the stone statue itself with the flat of the blade. Nothing happened. He poked the scabbard that the statue held. Nothing.

"Okay, I know I'm going to regret this, but..."

Michael reached up and slowly pulled the sword out of the scabbard. He exposed a few inches of the blade, and couldn't help but gasp in awe.

The blade was made of pure, white light. Brighter than any he had ever seen. It was impossible to look directly at it, yet Michael felt no heat whatsoever from the glowing blade.

"...by the gods..."

Michael shoved the blade back into it's scabbard, then grabbed the scabbard itself. He pulled it out of the statue's grasp.

Nothing happened.

At least, not until he stepped out from behind the altar.

Michael had hardly taken two steps toward the door when the room shook violently. A single pulse of power shot through the room, and then Michael heard the sound of rock breaking.

He looked to the statues.

The statues were riddled with cracks, with more appearing every second. The cracks merged and widened, and seemed to slither across the stone like tiny black snakes. And every where a serpent slithered, it left change in its wake. The statues were altering right before Michael's eyes. The men grew wider... the priestly robes vanished, and huge stone muscles bulged. Their erect forms hunched over until their elongating arms reached the ground. The legs thickened until they were like tree-trunks made of stone. Their judgmental faces distorted as the heads expanded and lengthened. The eyes narrowed into sharp, predatory slits. The mouths... now large enough to swallow a normal man's head whole... opened to reveal two rows of dagger-like teeth.

They were the Keepers. And they didn't look too happy with Michael.

"Hey, what's taking so long!" shouted Kultra. He and Masque... covered with blood that was not their own... stepped into the Sanctum. "What's going on in... uh-oh."

"RUUUUN!!!!"

Still carrying the Sword of Light, Michael bolted down the length of the room just as the Keepers leapt from their stone pedestals. The things ran on all fours, but even in that position they were huge. Their clawed feet tore up the floor as they came after Michael. Ahead of him, Masque turned to run while Kultra raised his sword.

"RUN, YOU IDIOT!!!!" Bellowed Michael as he blasted past Kultra. Kultra stepped back and closed one of the double doors. When the first Keeper reached the opening, Kultra swung his broadsword with all his strength.

*CLANK!!*

The blade bounced off of the creature's stone skin, making only a small indentation. A drop of blood trickled from the hole. The Keeper opened its mouth and bellowed directly in Kultra's face

"GRAAAAAAAAAA-"

The force of the wind knocked him backwards. That was just fine with Kultra, since that was the direction he was going anyway.

"WAIT FOR MEEEE!"

He ran, and the six Keepers burst through the door behind him. Michael and Masque rounded the corner just ahead of him, and then he heard shouting.

"INFIDELS!!! THEY HAVE STOLEN THE HOLY SWORD!!!"

"Oh great..."

Kultra turned the corner and saw another group of guards running towards him. He didn't have time to count them, as Michael quickly vanished down an intersecting corridor. Masque and Kultra followed, and behind them, the temple's inner guard came face to face with the Keepers.

"THE KEEPERS ARE FREE! RUNN! HIIIIIDE!"

The trio of thieves didn't hear the screaming and fighting that they had expected. Apparently the Keepers were only after the ones who had stolen the Sword. The stone-skinned creatures roared and bellowed like lions as they followed them through the maze of corridors. They were fast for their size, and even though the thieves had the lead for now, they each knew that they couldn't outrun the Keepers for long.

And fighting simply wasn't a very good alternative.

"Michael, do you know where you're going!" shouted Masque.

"Back to the boat! Hopefully we can lose some of them in the tunnels leading down!"

"They'll catch us LONG before then!"

"They're right behind me!" added Kultra.

"Shut up and RUN!"

The trio burst out into the open courtyard where Masque and Kultra had fallen earlier. Masque couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear as the memory of her defeat returned.

There were a few guards standing in the yard. When the thieves ran out of the corridor, the guards rushed towards them, but the men ran away screaming when the Keepers emerged.

"These things aren't getting any SLOWER back here!" shouted Kultra as they shot into the opposite hallway. They made a left... a right... another left... Michael navigated them through a dizzying series of sharp turns. Masque and Kultra each recognized some of the hallways from their earlier explorations, but they didn't take time to wonder at the complexity of the maze.

They emerged from the three-way split through the middle passage, then continued at full speed down the hall to the rotating wall. Masque punched the key-stone as she passed.

The Keepers were right on top of them.

"hurryhurryhurryHURRY!" she shouted.

The first Keeper leapt at them just as the wall rotated the trio into the other corridor.

KRA-THOOM!

The Keeper slammed into the wall behind them and the impact shook the entire hallway. From the other side of the wall, Michael, Kultra and Masque heard the roaring of the beasts, and the continued thumping as they threw themselves against the wall.

BOOM! BOOM!

Cracks began to appear almost immediately.

BOOM!

"I think we've only bought ourselves a few seconds," said Michael.

BOOM!

"To the boat!"

They quickly ran the remaining halls to the temple's front entrance, which was still sealed with the metal gate that had lowered when they first entered. They were trapped.

"DAMN!"

Kultra grabbed the bars and tried to lift the barrier. Despite his strength - and desperation - the gate wouldn't budge.

"Michael," said Masque. "That sword you're carrying. Do you think it can kill-"

"It's made of LIGHT! It won't cut anything other than shadows. There has to be a mechanism to lift this barrier! Or another exit"

"Yeah, but either one of those things could be anywhere," said Masque.

"Michael, if you use your magic-"

"No magic inside the temple! Haven't you learned a damned THING !"

"What good is learning if I'm gonna get my HEAD bitten off!"

Almost as if on cue, the thieves heard the thundering boom of the Keepers breaking through the wall just a few corridors back. The howling, stone-skinned beasts were coming. Fast.

Kultra redoubled his efforts to lift the gate, but the end result was the same.

"Hey, I could use some HELP here!"

"We can't possibly lift that thing!"

"If you've got any other options, I'd sure like to hear about 'em!"

Michael and Masque joined Kultra. All the while, the Keepers were getting louder... closer...

"On three..." said Michael. "One... two... THREE!"

"UNNNNNNGGGHHH!!!!"

*crrreeeEEEEAAAAKKKK!....... CLANK!*

The barrier moved. It was slow at first, but finally the combination of their strength overcame the mechanism that was holding the gate in place. However, it rose a few feet before jamming again.

"Good enough!" shouted Michael. He and Masque released their grips...

"UNGH!" Kultra grunted.

"What?"

"It's heavy... If I let go it'll shut again. I'll have to hold it while you two go through!"

"But what about YOU!"

"JUST GET UNDER THERE!"

The Keepers burst into the corridor and began running straight for them.

Michael and Masque scurried under the two-foot opening and emerged on the other side. Then they both held the gate while Kultra squeezed through.

"HURRY!" shouted Michael. He was staring at the Keepers.

"LET IT GO!" shouted Kultra as he pulled himself out.

The a loud *CLANG!* the metal barrier slammed shut just as the Keepers reached the temple's exit. The first Keeper slammed into it, and the impact nearly tore the gate out of the wall. The creature's stone skin cracked in several places, but it kept rushing the gate and snapping at the bars. It's strength was incredible, and when the other Keepers joined it, it became obvious that the gate would only hold them back for a few seconds.

Masque, Kultra and Michael ran across the entryway and vanished into the tunnel leading down to the shore.

"Remember where the traps are!" said Masque. She pulled a torch out of her bag and lit it.. "We can't afford to stop and search again!"

Behind them, the metal barrier gave way, but it had bought them several precious seconds. Powered by fear and adrenaline, they rushed through the dark passage, leaping over the touch-plates and tripwires that Masque had found earlier. The Keepers, however, ran right into them. The stone monsters were buffeted by falling rocks, slashed by swinging blades, and pierced by thrusting spikes.... but they kept coming. One fell into a pit, but it just leapt back out and continued the chase.

"TO THE WATER!!!" Yelled Masque as they emerged onto the rocky outcropping. They leapt down to the sand and ran for the boat. Kultra had just pulled the boat into the water when Keepers joined them on the shore.

"ROOOOAAAARRRR!"

Splashing frantically, the three of them pushed the boat into deeper water and hopped inside.

"Row! Row!"

Michael and Kultra each took and oar.

"Get outta the way!" Kultra pushed Michael aside and grabbed the other oar himself. Then he put all his strength into rowing. Kultra grunted with each stroke. His muscles bulged and burned from the effort.

"FASTER!" yelled Masque.

"This is as FAST as she's going!" replied Kultra. His heart thundered faster and faster in his chest. And sweat poured in rivers down his face.

"They're coming! LOOK!"

Behind them, the Keepers were running out into the water. All six of them came... their legs vanished beneath the surface, but they kept coming. The water rose to their huge stone necks... but they kept coming. They didn't even slow down.

And then they were gone.

"Where are they?" asked Masque.

"Their skin is made out of stone," said Michael.

"SO!?!?" said Kultra, who was still rowing like a madman.

"So... I doubt very seriously that they can swim. Either they've all drowned, or they're on the bottom of the lake wondering why they can't reach us. We're safe."

Masque breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well in THAT case," said Kultra. "It's YOUR turn to row!"

---

"Well... another mission accomplished," said Masque as they pulled boat onto the shore an hour later. It was just after dawn. The sun was barely visible over a huge grassy hill that loomed in front of them. "Now all we have to do is give this sword to Zayvair."

"And find out what ridiculous job he has for us next." added Kultra.

"I must say, I was rather disappointed in those Keepers," said Michael. "I guess I was expecting something a little more challenging. Weren't you?"

Masque and Kultra looked at him as if he were completely insane.

"What? I was just-"

"You Will Return Our Property Now, Infidels!"

The thieves looked to the hill, where about forty men, armed with golden-hued weapons, had arranged themselves. Most noticeably among them was Weliek, complete with golden skin and blue sash. Dried blood was caked on his face and chest, but he looked very much alive. He pointed his golden scimitar at Michael.

"Give Me The Sword, Thief!"

"See... I TOLD you we shoulda made sure he was DEAD! But noooo..."

"Hush, Kultra."

"How did they get here ahead of us?"

Weliek laughed.

"Our tunnels run UNDER the lake! We have been waiting for you here since shortly after you left the island. Now... The Sword! Now!"

"See... I TOLD you they had tunnels!"

"Kultra!"

"You are CLEARLY outnumbered, fools. Surrender and we will kill you NOW instead of TORTURING you to death! That it a MORE than fair exchange."

"Can we take 'em?" whispered Kultra.

"Don't be stupid, of COURSE we can't take 'em!" replied Masque.

"You have until the count of THREE to return the Holy Blade..."

"You're forgetting one thing," said Michael.

"What's that?"

"ONE!"

"We're outside the temple. Off the island."

"So?"

"TWO!"

"So... No temple means no countermeasures. No countermeasures means-"

"Means they just picked the wrong three people to mess with."

Michael and Kultra smiled, and even Masque cracked a grin beneath her ivory mask.

"THREE!"

The guards ran down the side of the hill with their weapons drawn. Trapped between the encroaching army and the lake, the thieves seemed to be in a hopeless situation.

Kultra and Masque drew their weapons, while Michael took a deep breath. In his mind, Michael released his own constraints... the rigid mental controls that Zayvair had drilled into him. He let go... and everything around him slowed. The waves on the lake... the golden guards and their weapons... even Kultra and Masque seemed frozen in place. The effect was just an illusion... a shift in perspective as Michael's abilities swept over him. In reality, everything was moving at normal speed... except Michael.

He was moving faster. Much, much faster.

He jogged up to the approaching wave of guards and snatched the weapons out of their motionless hands.

All the guards saw was a blur... and then their swords and halberds were gone. They appeared an instant later, piled in a heap in front of the dark skinned thief who... from the guard's point of view... hadn't moved a muscle.

"Lose something?" said Michael.

The guards stopped. They looked down at their empty hands, then over at Michael and their weapons, and then finally up at Weliek.

"GET THEM!!!" shouted the High Priest.

"My turn," said Masque.

Kultra and Michael turned away while Masque pulled her mask away from her head.

"AAAAIIIIIGGGHHH!!!!"

Some guards dropped to their knees and prayed... but most simply turned and ran... quickly vanishing over the top of the hill. A few, however managed to look away in time. They stumbled about blindly while keeping their eyes tightly closed. At the top of the hill, Weliek had turned his back to the scene and was cursing vigorously at the cowards who had deserted him.

"See how much easier this is when we can use-"

*SPLASH!*

The first Keeper erupted from the water at a full run... straight for Michael. The other five were right behind it. They looked every bit as unstoppable as they had in the temple, and running across the bottom of the lake for an hour hadn't done much to improve their moods.

"Oh, GREAT!"

"How did THEY get here!"

Masque turned around to face the Keepers, then stepped in front of Michael so that the creatures could see her.

Nothing happened.

"They have no MINDS!" said Masque replaced her mask. "I can't make them afraid! KULTRA! Fighting monsters is YOUR department!" She and Michael both ran for the top of the hill.

"I'm ON it!" Kultra yelled. He caught up with one of the guards and grabbed him by the head. He neatly snapped the man's neck with a twist of his hands, and then hissed as the power flowed into him. The death-energy bathed his cells...

Kultra's muscles hardened and began to grow. They bulged outward at odd angles... creating extremely hard, sharp projections. His skeleton thickened, forming an impossibly strong, nearly unbreakable frame to support the still-growing muscle. The bones elongated to more than twice their original size. His skin darkened to a dull gray color. Hard, rocky projections popped through the thickening skin and shredded his clothes as they grew. The transformation was complete just seconds after it had begun. Kultra was no more... in his place stood a twelve-foot tall rock giant. His entire body was covered with a thick layer of sharp, rock-hard bone, and his disproportionately large arms and fists throbbed with power.

"LET'S DO IT!" he bellowed with a voice like thunder.

The first Keeper leapt for him. Kultra grabbed the beast's head and squeezed it in his hands.

*KRRRACK!*

The Keeper's stone skull cracked like an eggshell. Kultra threw the beast at its brothers, knocking two of them aside while another beast leapt leapt for Kultra's throat. Kultra stepped back and threw a single punch.

KRA-THOOM!

His powerful fist knocked the beast end over end. It landed in the water, but it quickly got to his feet and came at him again. A third beast clamped its jaws around Kultra's ankle.

"OUCH! THAT HURTS!!!"

Kultra brought both of his fists down like hammers onto the beast's back. It died in a spray of blood, shattered rock, and sand. Suddenly, one of the beasts slammed into Kultra and knocked him down. The thing went for his throat while the other Keepers snapped at his arms and legs. Kultra kicked one beast away and grabbed another by the throat. He squeezed and twisted, and pulled the Keeper's stone head off at the neck. Blood poured down on him as he shoved the body away. He rolled onto his hands and knees and came face-to-face with a fourth Keeper A fifth one jumped onto his back, knocking him flat.

"UNGH!"

He felt the fifth beast's jaws close around the back of his head. Now it was his own blood that flowed.

"ARRRGHH!"

Kultra grabbed the fore-legs of the Keeper in front of him. One squeeze and they snapped like twigs. Then he reached behind him and grasped the beast on his back. After several pulls, he dislodged it and swung it violently into the other Keeper. The two beasts collided, their stone skins shattering against each other. Kultra swung again and again, using one beast to batter the other one to a bloody pulp. In the end, they both lay still.

Kultra turned around to see the final Keeper sailing through the air towards his head. He ducked. The Keeper landed behind him. Kultra reached out to grab it, but the beast clamped down on his wrist instead.

"OWWW! DAMMIT!"

As the Keeper tied to pull his arm off, Kultra punched it in the head repeatedly until it let go. Then he stepped back and kicked it as hard as he could. The Keeper flew several yards through the air before it landed. It squirmed and struggled, but Kultra was standing over it before it could get to its feet. He put his rocky foot on the Keeper's neck...

"I got plans for you..." he said.

Kultra lifted his foot and brought it back down hard.

CRACK!

The last Keeper died. The animating magic... the magic that served as the creature's soul... escaped silently into the surroundings, Kultra absorbed a portion of it.

Instantly his body began to shrink. The stony growths vanished. His skin thinned and return to its 'normal' pallor. Unfortunately, his clothes did not return.

Meanwhile, Michael and Masque were at the top of the hill. Weliek was there waiting for them, his gold-tinted skin gleaming in the sunlight.

"Don't tell me you want to fight us." said Masque.

"You desecrate our Temple! You steal our Holy Sword!"

"All Zayvair wanted to do was borrow it. If you weren't such a FANATIC about it-"

"DIEEE!" Weliek raised his scimitar.

Masque took a step back, but Michael didn't move. At least he didn't APPEAR to move.

It took about a second for Weliek to realize that he was naked. Michael had the High Priest's blue sash folded neatly over his arm. It took another second for Weliek to notice that his scimitar was missing.

Michael was holding it.

"Guards are gone. Keepers are dead. And you're naked. Still want to fight?

Weliek gulped and shook his head slowly.

"Well... run along then."

Covering his private parts with his hands, Weliek ran away. His golden body quickly disappeared in the distance.

Kultra climbed up to the top of the hill and stood in between Michael and Masque. Masque looked over his naked body, which he was making no effort to hide.

"I guess today's my day to see naked men," said Masque.

"That's the thing about shapeshifting," said Kultra. "Always having to find new clothes."

"Here," Michael tossed Weliek's sash to Kultra, who caught it and wrapped it around his waist.

"Ready to go?"

"Yep."

The three of them climbed down the far side of the hill and started walking east.

"You were right," said Kultra. "Those Keepers were a bunch of wimps."

"Thought so. But at least I got a new sword," Michael held up Weliek's golden scimitar.

"Nice," said Masque.

"And don't get that sash dirty, Kultra. I want it back."

"Why?"

"Because it's blue," said Michael. "That's my favorite color."

[Not The End]

copyright 1999 by Marc Washington (Dark Icon)