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plopped a tattered scroll onto a circular table, allowing it to unroll and dangle over the edges.
    “A map of Under-Earth.” Levenworth dropped his heavy index finger onto a red star marking Atlantis. “In better days, the logical route would be to go south and follow the river to Azelc’s Parish, the Ruins of Sal-Gazta, and then Flore Gub.” He traced the path as he spoke. “However, time is short and necessity demands a more direct route.” His finger returned to the Atlantis emblem. “A straight course to Redtown, circling the northern perimeter of the Fiery Plains to Du-Morgar, Flore Gub and through the Labyrinth Mountains to El Dorado. The journey will be perilous, but it’s the fate we’ve been given.”
    Cia touched Cody’s chin and tilted his face toward her own. “I will not risk the Champion of Atlantis undergoing this journey alone.”
    “I pledge my sword to the Book Keeper!” proclaimed Dace, kneeling and presenting his sword in outstretched hands. “For three generations this blade has protected Atlantis and has never been bested in combat. I will protect the Book Keeper to my death.”
    Cody felt an immense sense of relief; the unfolding scene was like a fragile dream that he had dared not voice for fear it might be snatched away.
    “Elegantly spoken, Captain,” Levenworth replied. “But your collateral trail of judgment lapses is undeniable. You are young and rash. A mission like this is no place for noble ideals; it is one for wise action.”
    “As it happens,” said Kantan, speaking for the first time and silencing the room, “unreliable or not, Captain Dace is the greatest swordsman in Under-Earth. His skill equals that of ten seasoned soldiers.” Kantan nodded to Dace. “I will hold you to your oath. From this moment forth, you are the Book Keeper’s blood protector.”
    “So be it,” Levenworth uttered, clearly displeased but lacking any notion of a grudge. “Select the five most capable, trustworthy soldiers in your legion to accompany you.”
    Queen Cia circled around Cody, tracing her index finger across his back. “The Company is now seven strong. However, the wastelands of Under-Earth are expansive. You lack a guide.”
    Tat Shunbickle cleared his throat. “I’ve completed fourteen successful covert missions in all four corners of Under-Earth and have spent two seasons studying under the legendary map-maker, Zilar Dask. I can escort The Company as far as Flore Gub. From there I will then report back to Captain Talgu—and my family….” A violent inferno smoldered in his eyes. Despite his disciplined demeanor, it was clear to everyone that an emotional dam was ready to burst.
    Cia peered at him like a maddeningly indecipherable painting before finally relenting. “Offer accepted—The Company is eight.”
    The excruciating noise of off-pitched humming sliced through the swelling tension in the room. All eyes turned to Stalkton, who was looking absently to the ceiling while swaying back and forth. Sensing the stares, the pale priest smiled. “Does anyone else love that song!? Such a heart-wrenching waltz of romance and tragedy! The three-legged horse truly loved that blind spider. True passion, heartbreakingly, never to be realized.”
    “Touching,” uttered Kantan in disgust. The priest took a deep breath, preparing to dive into the second verse but, to the relief of all, Cia spoke first.
    “High Priest, what wisdom do you impart to these questers?” Stalkton glanced around the room for a moment before his face lit up. “Golly, is it somebody’s birthday! How splendid! I do hope there’s cake.” With a flushed face, Xerx leaned forward and whispered into the priest’s ear. Stalkton’s face drooped; now reminded of the actual occasion for the gathering. Gone was any jubilant hope of cake. He sighed. “The Book Keeper’s ability remains agonizingly amateur. If we are to cling to our cloud of hope, he must continue his training. If not here, then on the