Minstrel Sam looks longingly back the way they came. He's never had difficulty with retreating in the face of terrifying force.
Hannah approaches the door with Eis, who had gone on ahead of her. Remembering their past trouble with doors into unknown places, she looks it over - and the ground surrounding it - for anything that looks like...well, more trouble.
Unfortunately, Rosy is right behind Sam, and reminds him, "Flesh-eating fairies back that way," in a quiet voice.
"They don't know we're here," Sam whispers hopefully to Rosy and Hannah. "We could... Just sort of wait until they've left, then sneak in after."
"I smell nothing," Eis hisses low as his head dips and bobs around the frame of the door.
"Might just be an air shaft carrying the voices," Rosy suggests in a whisper. "Then we just have to shimmy up it and strangle them.."
Hannah casts her eyes to side and mumurs to Eis, "There may be a reason for that. This door's...not right. There's no light coming from the bottom of it, or any of the cracks around it." Then she kneels down and puts her hand near its base. "No draft, either." Shaking her head, she pulls out the lens made for her by the goblin shaman and peers through it at the door.
Sam raises an eyebrow.
"Maybe it's just a really good painting," Rosy suggests to Sam.
The minstrel shakes his head. "I'd hoped we were done with the cheap illusions..."
Hannah looks like she's mulling something over as she replaces the lens in her belt-pouch. "No glamours on it, as far as the lens can tell. Then it could just open into a really dark, musty place - but I'll try to be cautious, all the same." Then she stands again and gently attempts to open the door - but not by reaching for any handle. She pushes on one side of it and waits to see what happens.
Peaches moves up, ready to grab Hannah by her collar should she start to fall forward.
Eis backs up to make room for Hannah. The door is heavy and it takes Hannah putting all her weight against it in the end before it starts to move. The sound that follows is a low, scraping one, as the door pivots about its center. As it moves enough to crack open into the room beyond, Hannah finds herself staring into the back of a musty, old, tapestry. Hah, its a secret door ... though it's certainly going to be pushing that tapestry out now. There's no screaming and yelling, though ... so maybe it wasn't seen.
"Hey, it's a tapestry," Rosy points out, just in case someone couldn't see that. "How much you want to bet it'll have unicorns on it?" she whispers to Sam.
The old faerie whispers to Rosy, "Feels like I'm following Tom. Right about now some girl would start screaming her head off and then he'd dash in and stop her with a smooch."
"Eis and Rosy, either of you smell or hear anything that might be a wyvern?" Hannah asks, eyeing the door warily as it swings and groans, surely revealing their position to anyone within earshot.
The doglin gets on the ground and tries to lift the bottom of the tapestry enough to get a whiff of what's beyond it.
Eis sniffs the air. "No, but then the musty rug over the door isn't helping," the cat remarks dryly.
Sam looks at Hannah expectantly.
After wiping dust off her nose, Rosy reports, "Nothing there right now, but definitely a lingering reptile scent.. but it's faint. So I don't think any wyverns have been by here recently."
Hannah nods and reaches for an edge of the tapestry. "Thanks. Okay, if anyone else hasn't lost their lantern yet, now would probably be a good time to light it." Then she slowly pushes the fabric to one side for a better look at where they are.
The old faerie, being well prepared, passes his lantern forward to Hannah. Notably, he doesn't volunteer to stick it out there himself.
Hannah smiles her thanks to the minstrel and uses it to light her path.
Beyond the tapestry is ... a balcony? At least it sure looks like one. The air is frigid and a layer of frost covers everything; old stone and the cracked wood of the railing ahead alike. As Hannah breathes out, her breth turns to a fine mist.
Hannah takes a cautious step forward, praying that she doesn't slip on the frost-covered floor of the balcony. She peers out and down, trying to figure out what's beyond.
The stone floor is rough enough that the light frost proves to be no issue for her footing. She manages to make her way out to the balcony. The view below is ... breathtaking to say the least! Sunlight filters in from ancient arched windows, illuminating sheets and pillars of ice. They gleam and refract like like diamonds, bathing the circular room in a rainbow glow. Near as Hannah can tell, they're about three stories up, overlooking what might have been some meeting room. The table that once stood in the center is long gone ... but it is replaced by a pile of trinkets; gold, silver, gems, everything the wyverns have likely taken from their victims over the years. Surrounding that are large crystalline pillars at equal spacing. The seem to glow with an unearthly light of their own and to add to the air of unease about them; each have a shadowy mass at its center.
Eis pads through the doorway next; the feline's body seeming to somehow squeeze through the narrowish opening. Its always been a mystery how most cats seem to always manage that, really.
Rosy tugs on Hannah's sleeve, whispering, "Shine the light on the tapestry too."
Hannah starts at the tugging and finally tears her eyes away from the scene below. "Oh! Er, all right." Then she shines the lantern on the tapestry.
Sam shivers, and it's not just the cold, as he catches sight of those pillars when Eis steps outside. He follows reluctantly, not wanting to be left alone.
Peaches, for now, stays outside rather than risk crowding the balcony.
The tapestry bears no Unicorns. Instead it bears what appears to be a fragment of history; one of the great wars between the Fae and the Dwarves. Likely done by dwarves, the tapestry itself depicts the fae as caricatures; exaggerated brows, evil eyes, and cruel smiles, as they march upon a more 'noble' army of dwarves.
"Pay up," Minstrel Sam whispers to Rosy, holding his hand out, neglecting the fact he didn't actually take the bet up, nor did they specify an amount.
"I heard that dwarves were very tough, with skin like leather and souls like iron," Rosy says, ignoring Sam. "And that dragons and giants would soften them up first before eating them by boiling them alive and crushing them with boulders."
Hannah, who is too young to remember any of the depicted battles, runs her gaze over the tapestry and makes a mental note to ask Thomas later about the wars with the dwarves. Then she looks around the balcony again, trying to find a way down to the wyvern's hoard.
It looks like there's a stairwell that winds down around the room from where they are to the floor far below.
Sam says academically, "Not true! In fact dwarves are tougher than that, being partly rock. They were usually passed up as food sources by any monster that had a choice in the matter. In fact Tom and I once came across several dwarven skeletons head-first in the walls. It appeared they had been spit out at high velocity by someone unable to stomach them."
"Good thing for the fae that they all decided to leave, eh?" Rosy teases Sam.
Hannah chuckles at her companions' by-play, then motions to them all. "The stairs are here. Let's have a look at those...pillars, shall we?" Then she moves down the first few steps.
Contrary to Hannah's likely fears, the stairs do not suddenly flatten out into a slide. In fact, they remain rather boringly ... stairs.
Peaches whickers from behind the tapestry, as if asking Hannah if she can come along or not.
"They were also very few in numbers, since childbirth was a pain for them, and had a curious aversion to embroidery and lace," Sam whispers. He follows, dropping the banter in favor of a worried look.
"So why doesn't this tapestry show the fae attacking in lingerie?" Rosy has to ask.
Somewhat relieved that they're merely walking to the floor rather than crashing to the floor, Hannah continues to the bottom of the stairwell.
"It wasn't the vampires-and-sunlight sort of aversion, more like kids-and-broccoli aversion," Sam explains.
"But goats love broccoli," Rosy points out, and hurries after Hannah.
Sam sighs.
Hannah finds its a bit disorienting to descend a circular room on stairs built into the wall, but soon enough she's on the floor. Ahead lies the pile of treasure and the glowing pillars. The shadows within roll slightly as if alive. Up closer now ... Hannah also notices that they hum slightly.
Once everyone else is out of the way, Peaches comes onto the balcony and then trots down the stairway.
Sam whispers to Hannah, "If I were to tell you I think messin' with those is a bad idea, would it make a difference?"
Hannah approaches the nearest pillar and holds the lantern close to it to get a better view. "But I'm not messing," she replies absently. "I'm just...looking."
"That's exactly what Tom used to say," Sam says and sighs. He checks his armory of weapons. A couple surviving fire bombs, one of those flamers, a crossbow he rarely uses, and his trustworthy lute.
Up close Hannah could swear the shadows inside were ... bodies. In fact, the one she stands before is rather large, with a long torso and shorter legs and arms. It reminds her of something she has seen recently, in the city of the cats ... when Eis opened the door to his home...
"The voice said she had a cat and a woman collected," Rosy reminds Hannah.
Hannah goes as still as a statue herself for a few moments. Then she says softly to Eis, "I think you should come and see this. This pillar looks very familiar. It might to you, too."
The minstrel eyes the other pillars, searching for ones that don't have shadows in them. Are these all prisoners, or are some... guardians or traps?
Eis moves quietly to the statue and draws up on his hind legs. Those inscrutable blue eyes of his look at the crystal for a long minute. "May I borrow your charmed lens?" the cat finally asks and extends his hand to Hannah.
Rosy goes in search of a goblin-sized shadow.
Hannah nods and passes it to him.
There are two that are empty of shadows ... and two more than contain them. One of them fae sized, the other goblin sized.
"Oh wow," Rosy whines. "I bet this one is Prince Feezle. What did that djinn say? They need to be kissed by an ice wyvern or something?"
Eis draws the lens up to his eye and peers at the crystal. His breathing halts and his left hand curls into a fist. As his hand unclenches, the cat lets out a breath and lowers the lens. "Lyne," the cat rumbles as he offers the lens back to Hannah.
Hannah looks askance at the doglin. "Cured by the claws of one, I think he said. Which means we probably have to defeat the wyvern who did this to them first." To Eis, she asks gently, "Your great-grandfather?"
Minstrel Sam grimaces. "I suppose it's too much to hope that they shed claws like fingernails and we could just find one lying around their living quarters?"
Hannah's eyes flick to the minstrel and she grins briefly. "Probably."
Eis lays one of his broad hands likely against the side of the crystal. "Yes," he answers roughly, jaw set hard in anger.
"Hmm," Rosy hums, and turns to the pile of treasure. "Maybe there's a magic sword or arrow or apple in the pile," she muses, and goes to investigate.
Sam reaches out a hand to catch Rosy. "Hold up there, puppy! It may be bait for a trap."
Hannah nods and is silent a moment. At last she says, "Then it is a good thing you are with us. You can help us to right the wrong that was done to him."
"Oh?" Rosy asks, eyeing the pile of shiny stuff. "You know, I'd have expected snowshoes and sleds and furs for an ice wyvern's hoard."
Sam grins. "No, wyverns are descended from dragons. They're notorious status-seekers, since they're compensating for feelings of vast inferiority to their forebears. C'mon, let's check out the treasure together, but carefully."
"Ohhh," Rosy says to Sam, looking like she's plotting something. "We need a big net we can hang from the ceiling," she notes.
Rosy finds absolutely nothing! Sam, however, finds something curious; odd-spade-shaped fragments of ice littered amongst the pile of treasure. Even amongst the literal fortune of jewels and gold ... they seem to stand out and glow more than diamonds in this light. They're also each about the size of his head.
The minstrel eyes the 'ice' suspiciously, then calls Hannah and Eis's attention to them. "This doesn't look like 'our' sort of treasure," he points out.
"Not a single rat," Rosy laments, and looks at what Sam found. "That looks like a scale, doesn't it?"
The minstrel grins. "It's much too big for wyverns though."
"Do you like my gallery?" an almost delicate and feminine voice rolls through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere. "It took me ever so long to collect it, but I only deserve the best of course. And its ever so wonderful when they come to me. I bid you welcome, Sam, bearer of legends and history. You play the fool and yet you carry much in your mind. So much memory that you try to bury in drink. Such a waste, really. And you, Hannah, child who saved the forest and who may yet leave a considerable mark upon Historie. I already have each of your places prepared for you. You will shine in harmony with the others."
The old faerie gulps. "Now now, milady, I'd be a crow amongst peacocks. I'm sure to lower the property values," he protests.
Rosy waits expectantly for her threatening announcement, as does Princess Peach-Blossom.
Hannah turns around and tries to find the source of that voice. "I rather prefer the freedom of that forest to life trapped inside a large icicle, thank you," she says, almost cordially. "Please tell me who I am addressing?"
"Oh, I have had many names over the long Years. Mistress Valanice serves as well as any," the voice echoes through the room. "And dear me, dear me, do you find my gallery displeasing?" the voice asks, a hint of actual anger in it. "I suppose I should not be surprised that a fae cannot truly appreciate my collection."
The old minstrel starts looking around for escape routes. Or things to hide behind/inside that might stand a chance against something, oh... Dragon-sized?
"A collection!" Eis finally roars, his voice a growl dripping with anger. "Lyne is not some trophy to be kept. His heart should soar free!"
"You can't hardly see them though, Mistress Vani.. uh.. Vanilla.. Ice," Rosy notes, and then goes to hide under Peaches.
"I see them fine, little morsel," Valanice coos, "It is your eyes which are clouded. But one cannot expect much from a puppet creation of a weak fae such as Eion."
"I don't think only the fae would find displeasure with your gallery, as you call it," Hannah answers, still scanning the room for a hint at Valanice's location. "Any thinking and feeling creature might find existence inside a block of ice to really be none at all." Her eyes also flick once to the large, crystalline objects Sam found. Maybe we'll get lucky, after all...
"Hey!" the doglin barks, coming out from under the Knightsteed. "He was a GREAT MAN! He beat everyone and entered into the pages of Historie!"
Alas for Sam ... they are very exposed in this room. There's precious little to hind behind, save the ice pillars themselves.
The old faerie sidles behind a pillar - Lyne's - and gives Hannah a worried look. "Think we should try thawin' out some of these?" he whispers.
A dark shadow, a mere pinprick, appears in the center of the room, too small for anyone present to notice. Alas, it grows quickly as Valanice descends from above. A great crystalline dragon, easily two stories tall, lands in the center of the pillars, scythe-like claws digging into the stone floor and sending gold and gems everywhere. She's unlike any dragon Hannah has ever read about. She shimmers like a finely cut diamond and is nearly transparent; only the outline of her great scales give her any definition ... and the cold, glowing blue, eyes she uses to look directly at the fae woman. To Hannah it almost feels like the dragon is staring into her soul. "Shall I introduce you to the company you will be spending just short of eternity with?" the dragon asks as her lips draw back in a playfully cruel smile.
"Augh!" Rosy yelps and runs to hide behind Sam. "I told you those were scales!"
Sam promptly takes shelter behind Lyne's pillar, now that there's an obvious direction for 'behind'.
It takes all of Hannah's courage not to back away from the intimidating creature. "If you like, but I can guess their identities already," she says, in a voice that somehow manages not to shake, either.
"Oh, then do tell me?" Valanice asks, "I do so love to see how finely cut my trophies are, after all. Impress me."
Since Hannah is close to Eis, she can literally feel his muscles tensing and hackles raising. His own eyes are narrowing and his own claws have slid from his fingertips.
Peaches makes her way slowly behind the pillars towards the others, not wanting to draw too much attention from the dragon. She's even reversed her glamour to make herself less noticeable.
Hannah gestures to the larger of the three occupied pillars, the one she examined before. "This one is Lyne, the great-grandfather of the cat who accompanies me." Then she nods at the goblin-shaped pillar. "And that is Prince Feezle, a goblin who left his home only to fall into your claws. But this one...I do not understand how you could trap her, of all people," Hannah says, indicating the fae-shaped pillar. "The Bandit Queen of legend. If I am right?"
"Oh, I met her at the Destroyer's Keep," Rosy notes. "She wouldn't pet me."
"Ooo, nicely deduced," Valanice coos, looking pleased. "Now, can you tell me why they are such valuable treasures? What is so special about one of the mountain cats? Or some rogue woman? Or some mangy little goblin, hmm? What makes them worthy to be in my gallery?"
"Could it be that all of them are connected to a certain person?" Hannah says quietly, slowly unclenching her own hands so they hang loose and free. "Even if one's connection is tenuous, at best."
"In a way, I suppose," Valanice has to agree, "But that is not quite correct. A valiant effort, but it is not surprising that a fae cannot see all the threads that weave together our world. SO, would you like to know why? I feel generous; I'm willing to give a little information to my new trophy before she takes her place."
"Umm, we should keep an eye out for the wyverns too," Rosy mumbles and tears her attention from the crystal dragon to check that big winged lizards aren't sneaking up on them from behind.
"She does not need to know, dragon," Eis roars, "The past of my family is ours to keep!"
Valanice's lips draw back into a fangy, amused, smile ... as if she's tolerating a small child. "That is a strange proclamation. Are you ashamed of why, cat? Does it burn in your pride to know what was both given and denied to you?" she asks.
Hannah now has to look curiously at Eis. "Somehow, I don't think our 'host' is going to let you decide that. She seems pretty intent on telling me. And if it is shameful at all, well, we've all done things we regret. I know I certainly have," she adds, remembering her unfair treatment of Tristan.
Rosy whispers to Hannah, "I don't get it? What's the connection?"
"Lyne is more than just another Hawk. His connection goes deeper and further back," Valanice says, her expression one of almost glee at the rage she's so easily inducing in Hannah's feline companion. The great dragon's head lowers and draws closer to Hannah, the dragon's glowing eyes drawing to slits. "Long before the Hawks were formed, Lyne was the legendary Thomas' adopted son. Raised by fae, and by such an ancient fae at that. Quite remarkable and a closely guarded secret. Such a unique treasure belongs in my gallery, don't you think?" the dragon practically purrs.
Hannah certainly looks surprised at this - but more than a little puzzled, too. "I can see that Thomas might keep the adoptoin a secret to protect Lyne from the discrimination he would face from other fae," she says, "but how does this shame Eis?"
Sam whispers to Rosy, "What did Tom ever do to an ice dragon to get it this mad at him?"
"Because Lyne turned his back on his own father out of anger and pride ... when all his father had done was save his life," Eis admits as he glares at the great dragon, "And because of that, Thomas died alone. Friends may abandon, but family should not."
"I dunno," Rosy whispers back. "I thought it was Redmane who ticked off dragons. How does she know so much about things though?"
Almost unbelievably, Hannah turns her back on the great dragon to face Eis. Gold eyes meet blue as she says softly, "Perhaps we were meant to meet, you and I. This is what my own father says to me constantly - although not as directly. He feels I have abandoned him and my House, but I still love them both a great deal. It may have been a mistake for your great-grandfather to leave Thomas but I cannot place too much blame on him, myself. That would make me too much of a hypocrite, I think."
"Cats," Rosy whispers.. very quietly.. into Sam's ear.
"Such a beautiful web of betrayal and stories around the one known as Thomas," Valanice coos, "It is a shame I have never met him. He would be such a delightful treasure in my gallery. Perhaps some day I will have the chance with the rebirth of his soul in a new body that I have heard so much about." She waves with a wing towards the crystal containing Elysia, the Bandit Queen. "And this one, well, she is a true legend. Impossible to catch, outsmarted the best, served the darkness, and given a new chance by the grail itself. It was pure chance I caught her. She actually walked into my den; much like you did! And imagine, she demanded I release Lyne! She thought she could defeat me. She was wrong." The smile that follows is both cold and deadly.
Hannah gives Eis a last, small smile before turning around again and asking, "And what of the goblin prince? Why did you take him?"
"Thomas sent a message just before he died to my great-grandfather, to Lyne," Eis says in a quiet sigh, "And apologized to him for not being a good enough father. He had done no wrong to Lyne ... and yet he apologized. My great-grandfather would have given anything to talk to him one last time. He ... he finally understood what Thomas had done for him, and why. And that chance was forever taken from him; all from pride."
"You have to ask that? Tsk. I expected better of you," Valanice says in disappointment. "The goblin showed uncanny intelligence and cunning. Far beyond what his kind is known to have. He simply had to be special. And all special things should belong to me."
"So, he can apologize when we thaw him out," Rosy tells the big cat. "Oh! So she doesn't know everything then! She doesn't know why Feezle is special!"
Hannah quirks an eyebrow at Rosy, saying, "This might not have been the best time to mention that...unless our 'host' already does know?"
"Well, she probably doesn't know that he's.. uh.." Rosy starts to say, and then snaps her mouth closed.
"No, but if the do does not wish to die slowly and painfully, she will tell me," Valanice says dismissively. "A quick death at my claws, or a slow one as a new chew toy of my pets. But such is for later ... you are whom I wish o deal with first, Hannah of November."
Hannah steels herself again and manages to remark somewhat casually, "Well, if you think there's something extra special about me, then your powers of observation must be slipping. I may be a Lord's daughter but that does not necessarily make one special. Contrary to the popular belief of the fae."
Peaches snorts in disagreement. She thinks Hannah is special, after all.
"No one who changed the world ever saw them self as special. Blind to their own deeds, as it were," Valanice notes, "But right now the best thing you can do for me is provide entertainment." The predatory smile that follows is not encouraging.
Hannah's mouth hardens into a grim line. "In other words, you wish to see if we can fight you so you may laugh if we fail."
The dragon rumbles in laughter. "My, you are funny. Child, I know you would fail, so where is the entertainment?" she says, "No, I have other plans. One I think you will appreciate." Behind her, the dragon's tail flicks lazily against the the crystal containing the Bandit Queen. It shudders, then melts away. A ruddy-haired woman stumbles forward then to her knees, coughing. "I'm giving you the chance to have revenge. You and her will fight and the winner ... well, I just might let free. The loser, well ... she will stay here, forever."
The emotion on the fae girl's face as she stares at Valanice is very plain. It is disgust. After several silent moments, Hannah reaches down to slide her hunting knife from its scabbard as she approaches the Bandit Queen. She grabs the woman's arm - but only to haul Elysia to her feet and put that knife in her hand. "Kill me," she whispers, without hesitation. "I would rather die here than fight someone with whom I have no quarrel. Then you can lead the others out."