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countered.
    “That’s because you three irreverent scoundrels decided to call it by its common name, forgetting your history.” Greyson’s words sounded harsh, but he was now smiling and bobbing his head up and down good-naturedly.
    “Scoundrels,” Tristan said, half-heartedly protesting.
    “Come now, Greyson, when did we study this?” Elister asked, understanding that this was serious.
    “Oh, around eighty years or so ago, though you have all evidently forgotten. This makes me wonder if we need another decade or two of classes,” Greyson said.
    The three groaned in despair at the thought of more classes. That was all they had done and known their entire lives. Elister spoke for the group when he responded, “I think we can do without the additional time, Arnen Greyson. Perhaps a simple reminder will suffice this morning?”
    Greyson smiled, enjoying the charm and banter between them. He would miss it too soon. He always did. “Very well, you should have remembered the Heart of Enchanted Rest. Does that ring a bell?”
    The three nodded, not willing to admit that even if it didn’t, they would act as if it did. Anything to avoid their teacher changing his mind after such a simple yet important declaration.
    “Please, do continue,” Elister said.
    Greyson nodded, pulling a key from his pocket and then frowning and putting it back, looking somewhat sheepishly at them. “Sorry, forgot my own procedure after so many years.” Stepping back, he brought his staff up and touched the center of the double doors, which brought an immediate mechanical sound as the doors opened on some sort of rock gear driven by the power of his staff.
    “Wow,” Tristan said, sounding like a child despite his middle-aged appearance.
    “Time to wake the Zashitors. They have work to do.” Greyson entered and walked down a long flight of steps broad enough to accompany all four of them.
    The walls were lined with naturally occurring veins of white rock ore that glowed in the presence of the druid’s staff, illuminating the staircase and subsequent chamber beyond. Once down the flight of stairs, the group fanned out around nine large granite slabs of rock. The far three at the rear of the chamber were occupied. Three bodies lay under brown blankets, their heads covered with masks that hid the features of their faces and the color of their hair.
    Greyson walked to the edges of the room, touching stanchions that erupted in flames to illuminate the area better, despite the faint glow from the white rock that streaked the interior of the chamber’s walls. Nodding in approval, Greyson turned to address his students.
    “Three protectors for the three servants of the Mother.”
    “So we are to be promoted, then?” Tristan asked, pride mixed with disbelief in his voice.
    Greyson raised a brow and focused his attention on the man. “I wouldn’t use that exact word, but rather, you are now to be pressed into service, for the Mother has need of you.”
    “Why now?” Beth asked, being the most curious of the group.
    “Always to the point with you, Beth,” Greyson said, allowing his gaze to leave Tristan and focus on her. “War has come early. The signs portend something great with the coming of the great transit and the awakening of the great evil that occurs every time Father Death arrives.”
    “What war?” Beth beat Elister to the question, forcing her companion to shut his lower jaw and look from her back to their teacher.
    “The wizards of Kesh have done something to interrupt the natural flow of nature,” Greyson began, using the common term of nature instead of the attribute of the Mother. “We have less time, and so the Chief Druid has ordered us to mobilize and prepare to defend Agon.”
    “You mean the First Arnen has declared war as well on the Kesh?” Elister asked.
    “Something like that, Elly,” Greyson said, gracing him with a smile. “First, however, we need to find out what is happening here and whether or not