They ascended a gentle, grassy hillside dotted with wildflowers. Leaving the perimeter of The Cold Plot, the air warmed, and life seemed to burst forth everywhere. Birdsong echoed through the trees, and the bubbling of a stream trickled down the slope. At the summit, a lone tree stood, and beneath it, a small figure played a flute.

  The creature was no more than three feet tall, slender, with long ears and large, turquoise eyes. His face was etched with wrinkles, yet his movements were as nimble and cheerful as a child’s. He wore a simple yellow doublet and shorts that barely reached his knees. His legs were thin, but his bare feet, toughened by constant contact with the earth, were strong and sturdy.

  “Sir Roderic!” the little man exclaimed, spotting them. “You found them!”

  “I told you, don’t call me that, Scribble!” Roderic replied. “I’m not a ‘sir.’ That title’s for high-ranking or noble folk, and I’m neither.”

  “Right, Sir Roderic,” Scribble responded, completely ignoring him. “We’re so happy to have you back!”

  “You, Scribble,” Roderic corrected again. “You are so happy to have me back! Don’t speak for others who aren’t here.”

  “Of course! You’re absolutely right! We Pipers are thrilled to welcome Sir Roderic and his friends to our village!”

  Scribble bounced with excitement, celebrating their arrival. He was a joyful, innocent creature, untouched by malice. Though the Pipers’ village lay only a few miles from The Cold Plot, the patriarch had strictly forbidden the younger ones from venturing near it. In fact, the lone tree where Scribble had waited marked the limit of their allowed travels.

  Initially, the playful little man, caught up in his dances and cheers, didn’t notice the others’ condition. But when he saw Isgalis and Baruch’s disfigured faces, he recoiled, terrified.

  “That’s what I was trying to tell you, Scribble,” Roderic said solemnly. “They’ve been possessed by Incruxis and don’t have much time.”

  “Oh, right,” the Piper sighed, sadly. “Silly Scribble! Silly! I hope your friends can forgive him!”

  “They will, Scribble,” Roderic said. “But take us to the patriarch immediately. We need his help!”

  “Yes, of course!” the little man said. “We Pipers will be glad to help our friends!”

  Ahead, a beautiful landscape of green, pine-covered hills stretched out. In the distance, no more than a two-day walk away, the Blue Mountains rose majestically.

  After about an hour’s walk, they crested the hill and saw a majestic little town nestled in a valley, bordering a pristine lake.

  “Welcome home!” Scribble announced.

  The houses were all meticulously crafted from carved wood, connected by a network of intricate stairways. The grass was perfectly manicured, flowerbeds of every color bloomed everywhere, and fountains adorned with exquisite marble sculptures dotted the landscape. Not even the most renowned landscaper could have matched the perfection and harmony of this hidden village.

  At the valley’s center, on a raised knoll, stood a two-hundred-foot tower, topped by a sharp spire.

  “Our beloved patriarch lives at the top of that tower,” Scribble said.

  The Pipers were diligent workers. Workshops for carpentry, blacksmithing, sculpture, and various crafts lined the streets.

  As they walked through the village, the Pipers warmly welcomed them and expressed sympathy for their plight. A kind Piper named Dill offered to take Tania and Tiziano to her cabin, promising to care for them until they recovered.

  “What they need is a cozy place and some warm compresses,” Dill said. “They’ll be better in no time!”

  “You can trust Dill, friends!” Scribble confirmed. “They couldn’t be in better hands!”

  The group agreed and left the children with the kind woman.

  “Why doesn’t the patriarch live in a cabin, like everyone else?” Teo asked as they continued toward the tower.

  “Because from up high, he watches over everyone,” Scribble answered. “There are creatures that fly through the skies that could harm us.”

  “What kind of creatures?” Teo wanted to know.

  “The dog-bird,” the little man said. “We Pipers call it…”

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  “Laotar,” Teo finished.

  “Exactly, Sir Teo!” Scribble exclaimed. “The Laotar has devastated countless Mantra villages, over many generations.”

  “Have you ever seen it?” Teo asked, dismayed.

  “Scribble and the younger Pipers have never faced the beast. The dog-bird destroys, slaughters, and devours for a year, then secludes itself in the Blue Mountains for decades.”

  Teo wanted to know why, but just then, they reached the tower’s doors.

  Scribble knocked twice, and they waited.

  At the threshold, a Piper unlike the others appeared. It wasn’t his looks—which were essentially the same—but his demeanor that set him apart. He was extremely serious and circumspect, his face expressionless, and he spoke sparingly.

  “Looks like you’re in trouble again, Scribble,” the grim Piper said, seeing Isgalis and Baruch. “I’m glad we helped you find your friends, Mr. Roderic, but I’m afraid you’ll have to leave our village immediately.”

  “What are you talking about, honorable patriarch?!” Teo exclaimed, enraged. “You’re our only hope to save our friends’ lives, and we won’t leave until you help them!”

  Without another word, the Piper slammed the door shut.

  The group was stunned. They hadn’t expected such hostility and contempt from the patriarch of a people as kind and supportive as the Pipers.

  Scribble was petrified, unable to speak.

  Seconds later, they heard the door hinges creak again.

  “My apologies,” the apathetic Piper said curtly. “Please, follow me.”

  No one understood what was happening. They exchanged bewildered glances, unable to believe the strange turn of events.

  They ascended a narrow spiral staircase, which led to a small room at the tower’s top. The room had a large window with a magnificent panoramic view of the valley. Next to it, an exquisite high-backed chair held a plump Piper with a beard that nearly touched the floor.

  “I hope you’ll excuse Capeus!” the old man said. “His manners were reprehensible and unbecoming of our customs! He tends to be a bit overprotective, though it’s completely unnecessary!”

  “Adored patriarch!” Scribble exclaimed, rushing to embrace the old man. “I knew you’d hear our friends’ pleas!”

  “My dear Scribble!” the old man said. “Here, no pleas are necessary! Those who need help are our guests! And those who suffer, our responsibility!”

  It had all been a misunderstanding. Apparently, Capeus, the grim Piper who had greeted them, was the patriarch’s advisor. His reticence only expressed concern for the old man's health. The patriarch, despite his benevolence and warm welcome, showed signs of serious decline. He had a severe tremor in his hands and body, which made his speech unclear, and his stiff legs and balance problems kept him confined to the chair.

  “Honorable Patriarch,” Teo said, stepping forward, “my friends and I appreciate your hospitality. We’ve come to plead for the lives of two of them, who were possessed by Incruxis during our passage through The Cold Plot.”

  When the old man saw Isgalis and Baruch’s wretched state, he shuddered.

  “I recognize the girl,” he said. “She’s Dromegard’s daughter, isn’t she?”

  “That’s right, dear patriarch,” Teo confirmed.

  “I’m so sorry for her! She’s a lovely girl, and her father’s a good friend. I’m deeply saddened that she’s in this condition, but I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do for her or the child!”

  “But why?!” Teo exclaimed, startled. “Dromegard told me that your people’s music is magical. That it can even cure serious illness!”

  “And so it is! But your friends aren’t sick, because for them to be sick, their bodies would have to belong to them.”

  “I don’t understand, venerable patriarch,” Teo said, confused.

  “Health is the result of the harmonious union of our physical body and our astral or subtle body,” the old man explained. “This is the immaterial part of our being that records our character traits and shapes our worldview and life experience. It’s what gives us sensitivity and allows us to feel pleasure, pain, and a full range of emotions. Illness, therefore, is a product of these two levels of existence falling out of sync. Our people’s music has the power to restore harmony between them, thus restoring health. But in the case of your friends, that’s impossible, because their physical bodies have been emptied of their astral bodies.”

  “How could something so terrible happen, great patriarch?!” Roderic interjected, startled.

  “When a demon possesses a person’s physical body, it displaces their astral body to a dark realm, parallel to the material world. Many demons use cursed artifacts to hold onto the subtle bodies of the possessed. In the case of the Incruxis, these artifacts are the Psiboros Mirrors.”

  “There has to be something we can do!” Jayden cried.

  “There is a way to save them,” the patriarch indicated, “but the chances are slim.”

  “We’ll do whatever it takes!” Teo said. “Just tell us what!”

  “It’s not that simple, my dear boy,” the old man lamented. “I can sense, just by being near them, that they’ve both been possessed by the same demon.”

  “That’s right,” Teo agreed. “Isgalis drank the waters of Razdar to buy Baruch some time. Why do you mention it?”

  “There’s no way to remove a divided demon from the physical bodies of the possessed. It’s a common ploy of the Incruxis: the more pieces their spirit is broken into, the harder they are to eradicate. It’s like cancer spreading to different organs. The only chance to recover your friends’ subtle bodies is to reunite the demon’s divided spirit and force it to leave their physical forms.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?!” Roderic boomed.

  “To reassemble the Incruxis’s spirit, you need Cheopsida, a magical stone that reverses the effects of the waters of Razdar and is hidden in the Blue Mountains.”

  “Then we need to get going!” Teo said.

  “It’s impossible for you to get there in time, son. The Blue Mountains are a two-day walk away, and your friends have no more than ten hours to live.”

  “I have to try, patriarch! I’m not going to just sit here!” Teo exclaimed, determined. “I have a commitment to them, and to The Continent and its people!”

  “And tell me, son: what is that commitment?”

  “This!” Teo said, revealing the Mantra emblem, given to him by Sir Phleas. “I am the chosen one from the Library of Babel, here to drive Evil from these lands! I am the protector of Ardoras!”

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