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      Kaleb and his companions recover from their wounds suffered during their recent battle against the latest of the Dark Children's puppets. Their next destination is the frozen region known as the Ice Lands of Dooler.
      Langards failure to retrieve the Staff from Kaleb leaves him deflated and his plan to resurrect the Dark Children himself is in tatters until a whimsical remark provides him with another solution. Once again he requires the help of the hag Marindol, but that is a small price to pay for the chance to release the Dark Children and take his place as the leader of the Ogres.

Chapter 1

      The sun began to rise over the make shift camp. It warmed the air quickly and the inhabitants stirred.
      Shen had returned from her foraging and was piling up the food ready to be cooked. They had been there three days now. The wounds of battle were healing and they would soon be on their way again to their next destination.
     One benefit of their enforced rest was Kaleb had more time with the Staff. More time to mould his relationship with it.
      It’s true the Staff had fully accepted him now, but there was an intimacy that only grew through time. Shen remembered how Xandra nurtured that intimacy through many long journeys throughout the land. Each journey drawing them closer.
      But Kaleb didn’t have that sort of time. The time he had to gain that intimacy was mostly through battle. Their enforced break changed that for a short period.
      Doranth’s wounds were the more severe of the group. The injuries sustained during the attack by the Ogres left many open wounds. The old dragon would have required a long period of rest to recover fully normally, but the combination of the minerals from the mud from Portuse caves and the energies from the Staff meant he was in the air and flying after just two days.
      And with Grendal’s shoulder fully healed it meant their spicy relationship soon picked up from where it left off.
      “Ahh! Thank you, Shen,” Grendal said as he rose from his slumber. “You’ve saved me a job. I’ll get cooking straight away.”
      ‘I’ll eat mine raw,’ said Doranth rising at the same time. ‘You have a tendency to overcook sometimes. It messes with my insides.’
      Grendal sneered.
      “I’ve never heard anyone whine as much as you. It surprises me how long your race has survived. If I were them I would have jumped off of the tallest mountain rather than listen to you all day.”
      ‘I once said you would be too heavy for me to carry, but I would surely carry you to the top of any mountain if you would carry out your empty promise,’ returned Doranth as he stretched out his wings. A wave seemed to flow along his body as his scales moved and caught the suns rays, reflecting them off at an angle.
      The giant began preparing the fire.
      “We probably wouldn’t make it there. You’d probably bore me to death with one of your stories.”
      “I see the two of you are fully recovered,” came a soft, but confident voice. It was Sabina.
      The warrior had been disturbed by the two’s conversation and decided to get up. She ruffled her long dark hair which had been released from its bindings before she went to sleep. Her dark skin contrasted the almost pearlescent white form of Shen who was now standing next to her.
      “It’s a shame you can’t hold a conversation a little more quietly.”
      “I apologise. I did not mean to wake you,” said Grendal. “I sometimes get a little carried away and my voice rises without me realising it.”
      “That’s OK. It’s time to get up anyway.”
 Sabina looked around for Kaleb automatically, but saw an empty space where he had laid down for the night.
      ‘I believe he’s around pursuing the possibility of delaying the creation of a second Staff,’ sent Shen noticing who she was looking for.
      “Oh! Is he?” she replied a little embarrassed not realising how obvious she had been.
      There was a short silence before Shen said,
      ‘I’ve collected some fresh water and set up an area just beyond those rocks for you and Kaleb to freshen up if you would like to.’
      “Yes, I will. Thank you.” Sabina quickly gathered her things, thankful for a chance to get away from the awkward situation.
      The three remaining inhabitants of the camp watched as she left.
      ‘I don’t understand Humans,’ said Doranth. ‘It’s a miracle they ever get to breed at all.’
      ‘My connection with Nature and all of my kin still hasn’t provided me with an answer to Humans,’ said Shen.
      “They certainly don’t act in any way that I can work out,” said Grendal.
      “Who doesn’t?” asked Kaleb as he walked into the camp.
      Doranth and Grendal turned to see Kaleb strolling towards them with the Staff by his side.
      ‘We were just discussing Humans,’ said Shen. ‘How complicated they are.’
      Kaleb looked at her with one eyebrow raised and shrugged his shoulders before continuing.
      “I’ve managed to connect to the Okrin in the Caves of Lorthorn. I don’t know how, but the Staff was able to change parts of it to a different mineral. It’s useless for making another Staff. But the Okrin retains its original structure the deeper they go so we’ve probably gained another eight days of so.”
      ‘Then we must continue our journey soon. Doranth will need to pace himself after his injuries,’ said Shen. ‘Grendal, if you wish to continue fighting by our side then I ask you to travel to the Spirit Islands for that is our next destination.’
      Grendal’s face almost drained of it’s colour when he heard Spirit Islands.
      “I...I...will, of course meet you there,” he replied.
      There was a short silence as everybody noticed Grendal’s reaction. Before he was questioned he said,
      “You did say Spirit Islands, didn’t you?” he asked hoping he had heard wrong.
      ‘Yes. Is there a problem?’ said Shen.
      “We are told many things about the Islands when we are young. I guess now is a good time to find out if they are true.”
      A nervous laugh passed his lips and he continued on with the fire and preparing the food.
      ‘You’d best keep them to yourself. I don’t want to know,’ said Doranth.

Chapter 2

      “What is it now?” bellowed Dango after being disturbed from his meditation.
      It was a time to rejuvenate his mind from the taxing day to day mundane things. Things that drained his psychic energies.
      He had returned to his palatial room overlooking the enclave. It afforded him the view out across the desert and onto the mountains. A view that reminded him where his parents had travelled from and where one day he would lead his clan back to, where his race belonged.
      His anger was aimed at a messenger boy that had been sent to him. The Human child had been pacing outside his door obviously too frightened to come in. Dango couldn’t ignore the shuffling noise any more.
      The boy slowly opened the door and handed Dango a message before disappearing back through the entrance.
      It requested his presence at the caves of Lorthorn where the Okrin was being mined by the Changelings.
      It was only four days ago that he was there last. The Changelings had finally found the Okrin and it was ready to be removed from the rock. He was unsure why he would be needed there again until the Staff was ready to be forged. Four days was too soon.
      He refreshed himself before changing into his green robe with a hood that covered his head and masked his face.
      He had learned early on, as did all Psychic Assassins, that the sight of his face with his eyes removed was unsettling to the general population.
      He was on his way within minutes. He mused to himself how Langard would have taken half a day to get ready after pampering himself before leaving. The vile smelling perfume he used always stuck in Dango’s throat.
      He growled at the thought of the soft excuse for an Ogre.
      Dango jumped off of his Rocksaur and tethered the beast to the nearest pole. He scanned the area and found the Ogre he was looking for. As he made his way over to him he noticed the pile of Human bodies had grown significantly in the short time he’d been away. He cared little for the subordinate species, but it seemed such a waste of a resource.
      The rancid smell was noticeable, but the Ogres stomach for such odours was strong.
      “Kendrell, you sent for me. Surely you cannot have mined enough Okrin for a Staff already.”
      Kendrell was a burly specimen even for an Ogre. He towered over Dango who was on the larger size for an Ogre. But with the gift came the submissive actions of all Ogres alike.
      Kendrell made his greetings after turning away from a pile of rock dust that he had on his table. His body sank as if to get closer to Dango’s height and his shoulders and head slumped forward a little.
      “We have another problem, but I don’t know how it has happened.” He motioned to the dust. “This used to be Okrin. Around day break the veins of Okrin in the cave walls just turned into dust. It looks like some sort of magic.”
      Dango scanned for the psychic energies of the dust, but found nothing. No aura that he experienced when the Okrin first appeared in the cave walls.
      He spun on his feet and stomped off in the direction of the cave. The scrapping sound of the Changelings at work got louder the deeper he got into the cave until he ordered them to stop when he reached them.
      ‘Cease work immediately,’ he sent.
      The Changelings stopped and moved back from their work. Dango could feel the psychic disfiguration of the Okrin in the walls almost immediately.
      “It has to be the Changelings. No one else has been in here,” said Kendrell as he caught up with Dango. “We should make good on our threat and begin destroying villages to make them turn it back.”
      “This was not the Changelings,” said Dango. “This was something else.”
      He approached the wall and placed his hands on it. Sending his mind into the Okrin vein he followed it further into the rock until he found what he was looking for. The light sting of a psychic aura.
      “It’s still in there. You’ll just have to dig further,” he said pulling away from the wall. “I’ll inform the Council Of the delay. They will not be pleased. We are so close, but I fear their patience is wearing thin.”
      Dango pushed passed Kendrell and headed for the exit leaving him behind. If the Council did decide to stop the mining altogether, one benefit would be that fool Langard would lose favour with them, which would be some consolation for him.

Chapter 3

      When plans go wrong they go wrong in a big way. Langard had experienced this several times in his lifetime and the latest disaster had left him thinking there was something in this Nature thing that the Changelings believed in. Surely it could only have been that which caused his latest failure.
      A full raiding party of trained Ogres were defeated by a small group consisting of two puny Humans, a Giant and a Changeling. It’s a story that even a young Ogre wouldn’t believe if it were told as a cautionary tale as they grew into adulthood.
      But Paros saw it with his own eyes. However his account of the incident seemed to be a little exaggerated. Whatever happened it didn’t change the fact that his plan for controlling the Dark Children was now dead in the water.
      Langard sat in his home with one empty container of wine on the table, a half full container next to it and a tankard in his hand which he drained the last drops from before refilling it. As he slumped back in his chair he continued looking out of the window at the settlement below.
      He’d been in this position ever since he received the bad news two days ago from Marindol the witch who was in psychic contact with Paros. She seemed to revel in giving him the news. He wasn’t sure if it was personal or she just liked giving bad news.
      His drunken stupor seemed to lighten his mood a little and he chuckled at the thought that the old woman enjoyed his misery.
      It was true that he had created the replica crystals, but without the Staff they were just beautiful objects to look at.
      His mind wandered back to the moment when he first saw them glow. The magnificent illuminations in the cave where he created them. It brought a little comfort to his bitter heart.
      Now the Dark Children will be summoned by that fool Dango once the second Staff had been created from the Okrin and his chance of putting the Psychic Assassins in their place will be gone. Maybe he should just steal it once it has been created.
      The words rang out loud in his mind like the cry of a Rocksaur and he stopped breathing for a few seconds. He sat up straight, put his drink down on the table then stood up and began pacing up and down his room.
      Could it be! A simple act the answer to his problem! Would it even be possible? Dango would surly have guards in place at all times of the day.
      “Think,” he said to himself. “How to get passed the guards without anyone finding out before he had summoned the Dark Children.”
      He stopped pacing suddenly with a smile on his face.
      “No. Not get passed a guard. Use a guard!”
      The more he thought about it the better he liked it. And how best to get an Ogre to do what you want them to do? Bribery!
      He burst out laughing and began dancing around the room. Suddenly he stopped by the window. The joy draining from his face. How would he get information to bribe a guard if he didn’t know who was going to be picked.
      As he looked across the settlement his eye settled on the hives in the distance and those same eyes lit up. It was time for another visit to Marindol.
      It was mid morning the next day when Langard made his journey to the hives. He donned old clothes and a deep hood to blend in and hide his identity. The last visit he made was when he found out Dango was following him. And that was after the interrogation he was put through by the Psychic Assassin.
      This time he knew Dango was away from the settlement.
      His hangover hindered his journey and it wasn’t until the sun was at it’s peak that he reached Marindol's dwelling. On more than one occasion he wretched from the stench of the hives. It took all of his resolve to keep his food in his stomach.
      He stood in the small garden area in front of the door composing himself. His eyes closed. His head spinning. It had been a long time since he had felt like this after a drinking session.
      When he opened his eyes he noticed the flowers surrounding the small hovel had sprung into life since he was there last. It added colour to the drab surroundings.
      Banging on the door he called out the witches name.
      “Marindol! Marindol!”
      He waited for an answer. He felt the banging was too loud in his sensitive state and looked around to see if anyone was attracted by the noise. A few Ogres were busying themselves with their day to day chores, whatever they may be he thought. And some youth were playing in the walkways between the small buildings, but no one looked up.
      “Marindol!” he banged again.
      “Who is it?” came a gravelly voice at last.
      “It’s Langard. Open up.”
      There was moment of silence where Langard thought Marindol was deliberating on whether to open the door or not until the sound of locks being released gave him his answer.
      “What brings you to my home, again? There’s nothing more I can do for you. The Staff is gone.”
      Langard didn’t wait for an invitation into Marindol’s home and pushed his way passed her. She looked at him and growled her annoyance.
      “Do come in,” she said sarcastically.
 Langard looked around the room. This was her home. Bedroom, cooking and bathing areas all rolled into one space the size of his own bedroom. Everything was...lived in, was as best as he could describe it. Worn flooring, scraggy window coverings, broken bed frame.
      “I see you’ve spent my money wisely,” he said returning the sarcasm.
      “Did you come here to comment on my spending or was there another reason?” Marindol pushed the door shut.
      Langard turned round and looked at the hag. It was only now he noticed she was barely dressed. The wrinkly skin on her face was mirrored over the rest of her body. Her bare arms, legs and belly drew his attention as did the overgrown claws on her feet. All she had on was what he could only describe as a two piece covering and he shuddered to think what was under it.
      He shook his head preventing another bout of nausea.
      “I have another job for you. I’m going to arrange for the new Staff, when it has been created, to go missing.”
      Marindol burst out laughing.
      “I hope you don’t expect me to do it,” she said struggling to get the words out.
      “Of course not, you fool. I need you to find out who will guard it and what I can use against them as bribery.”
      “Oh, is that all.”
      Marindol wiped the tears from her eyes. She disappeared behind a cloth partition and returned with a robe wrapped around herself covering her body.
      “And what makes you think I won’t tell your friend Dango of your plans this time?”
      “The same reason you didn’t tell him last time. Money and power when I have raised the Dark Children. And the fact I will have you tied to two Rocksaurs and pulled apart before they feast on your rancid flesh.”
      Marindol laughed out loud again.
      “You do have a way with words. And anger issues I fear.”
      Langard was indignant with the way he was being spoken to by someone from the hives. In any other situation he would have struck her down.
      “Don’t worry,” she said noticing the change in his manner. “I won’t say anything. Even though I expect your plans are doomed to failure, I have need of more money.”
      Langard began to calm down.
      “I will call for you when I have the information. Be warned, though. My fee will be triple. I will need to access parts of Dango’s psychic aura. This comes at great risk of detection. You will need to pay for that extra risk.”
      “Why you thieving...”
      “Hold your tongue, you Rocksaur faeces.” It was Marindol’s turn to become angry. “You come here with a plot to overturn the power of the Psychic Assassins, expecting me to help, and sneer when my price is a mere drop in the ocean compared to the wealth you have accumulated off of the backs of us in the hives. And the help comes with a possible price of death or something much worse at the hands of the Assassins. I would be more civil in your dealings with me or you may wake up one day a mute.”
      Langard was shocked by Marindol’s outburst. Could she really remove his ability to talk? He called her a witch, but he never believed she was a real witch. They had been hunted down and killed off many generations ago. It would be too difficult for her to hide her identity.
      Although, there would not be a better place to hide it than in the hives. He decided to continue with caution, but not to let her know he was now wary of her.
      “Very well,” he spat back. “But be quick about it. The Okrin is being removed as we speak. I would do well to lessen your venomous tongue next time before I cut it out and cook it for my evening meal. Then you would be the one to live as a mute.”
      Langard felt he was less convincing than he would have liked to have been, but stormed out of the shack to emphasise his threat.
      Marindol just grinned a toothless grin.