After three days of scrubbing floors and everything else that needed cleaning, and any other tasks and chores that Master Frivole or his mistress could think of (Yes, mistress, for he's got a wedding band, she doesn't have his last name, and they just don't do that business about keeping maiden names after marriage in Gallis) Willow, Burr and Thorn finally arrive in Olympia. There's still more to withstand, though, as Diamante is more than a stone's throw away yet.

Still … Willow and her companions managed to get passage without paying any shekels since paying for room and board in Half Valley. Not bad on zero income. (Just so long as you don't think about how much work was done to get this "free" passage… )

Once again, Willow comes to Parthos right when a holiday is being celebrated. It's doubtful whether the ancient Olympians really cared much about the Ark, when they had a whole pantheon of gods and goddesses to thank for everything … but this is a tourist attraction, and tourists love big holiday celebrations.

In the center of the street, a large model of the Ark has been erected, and, according to tradition, decorated with shiny streamers that glitter in the light of the street lamps.

"Burr, get our baggage together. I get the feeling that it might be safer to get to Diamante via some other means in Olympia. We're close enough that we shouldn't have too much of a problem getting either a wagon or a ship from there to here. I'm going to the Pantheon out there to drop off something. Meet me on the steps. It's that big building over there by the cliff side, see it?" Willow keeps her words to sign, although her hands ache from all the scrubbing.

Little figurines of all the major gods stand on the Ark, smiling down on those gathered. Yes, there's even a black Kattha with little horns on his head smiling down. Someone must have a sick sense of humor.

Burr nods, and turns around to head back to the poodles' airship.

Thorn signs, "I'll help!" and then chases off after his father.

Over past the Ark, it looks like they have another "More Than You Can Eat" gorge-fest, complete with the ever-popular vomitorium. Apparently that is such a popular thing that it isn't held solely for Harvest Tide.

The oracle of Primus sits on the steps of her shrine, largely forgotten in the holiday bustle and musical mayhem. Her lion guard stands, looking sternly at anyone who wanders anywhere close. Small wonder she hasn't many visitors.

The Skreek watches the two cheetahs depart and then makes her way to the Pantheon, glancing at the various carts as she studies the different offerings for the gods. ( I want something that I think is beautiful. Maybe some nice flowers of a small trinket or… oh… there she is! )

The offerings being sold are a bit different than for Harvest Tide. There aren't sacks of grain or other produce, really. There are still many flowers, but also many baubles and trinkets and pieces of jewelry. Some of them are little representations of the Ark, or of the gods and goddesses that the Olympians believe came here on it. There are also little decorative containers in which one is to write a wish on a tiny scroll, then leave as an offering and request for the gods.

Willow's eyes fall on the rings for a long moment before she focuses on the flowers. She picks a bouquet of delicate multicolored flowers first, and then a smaller bouquet of long stemmed tulips, before plucking a small container with as simple a design as she can find among the offerings. ( I got free passage to here. I can afford to spend a little bit. )

With just a little bit of haggling, Willow manages to get a fairly simple and cheap container, and two bouquets of flowers. She also passes a booth where miniature dolls of various species are being sold. They represent several different species, and various colors of each, just plain little figures, without any posing joints, and ranging from simplistic in design to ornate, with separate clothes to stick on them. At some of the booths, crafters actually paint faces and features onto the dolls for waiting customers. Several of these little figures can be seen adorning the Ark in the center of the square, or some of the other representations here and there, on tiers below those of the gods and goddesses.

Other booths, for a somewhat lesser price, sell little pieces of paper that look something like the tickets issued for the larger passenger liners. Each one of them has an emblem of the Ark, however, and a place to fill in a name.

The Skreek studies the dolls for a moment and then shakes her head. As interesting as they are, she doesn't have an immediate use for one. Instead she walks towards the Oracle of Primus and her guard.

The guard's eyes take a moment to register recognition. Perhaps not too many thin Skreeks with gray fur, black head hair and five slashes on a cheek come to visit the Shrine of Primus.

"May I speak to the Oracle?" Willow squeaks softly.

"You may," says the old lioness, resting on the steps and on her cane.

The Skreek takes a step forward and holds out the bouquet of yellow flowers to the lioness. "I'm here to apologize for the way I acted last time I was here. I was rude and curt, and no amount of anger earned me the right to act the way I did. I hope you can forgive me."

The lioness' eyes open a degree wider, full of honest surprise. Evidently the oracle didn't foresee this. "Why … thank you, child."

"I hope Primus can forgive me as well. I understand a bit better now. Your earlier words still don't make much sense to me, but they probably will when the time is right." Willow places the flowers at the Oracle's feet. "I am trying not to be ruled by my anger as much as before. It blinded me far too much."

The oracle's expression is curious, as she looks upon Willow, but she says nothing at first. Then, at last, she asks, "Have you a question to ask of the Oracle of Primus?"

"I don't know if you can answer my question… and I didn't come here to bribe you into doing so by offering you a gift." Willow's ears droop a little. "But I'll ask you the big question that's on my mind right now… "

"Yes?" purrs the lioness.

The Skreek glances up at the sky. "I'm alive, and I've been through too many close calls in my life to not think there's a purpose behind it. I feel like I'm being fattened for some purpose, but I don't know what it is. Why I was put into the life that I was, and how does that fit into my future?"

The lioness frowns, and closes her eyes, concentrating … but not muttering any incantations that Willow can tell.

"There is no one answer for that. I sense many purposes, and many of them cross, amongst the forces that have shaped your life. I sense the hands of gods upon your destiny," the lioness says in a creaking purr.

The rat shuffles her feet, chewing nervously on her lip. "May I know one of those purposes?"

The lioness gazes into the air as if blind. "I see the sign of Dagh, and his machinations. And I see one who is his servant, yet is not, working against him, yet for him, knowing yet unknowing. And I see another, one of Dagh, yet not, seeking to do good by evil. Twisted cords I see, full of knots … but I see where this thread has been torn asunder." The lioness turns to look at the Skreek. "Gods play with you as a toy, my child, and fight over you." She shakes her head sadly. "This is a sad thing indeed."

"I don't say this as a brag nor as an insult… but although I know the gods exist, I do not worship them. I follow the Star." Willow swallows. "I don't know what it is about me that makes me so valuable or interesting."

The lioness nods. "This is all I have to prophecy to you. May you find your way."

"Thank you." Willow bows. "And happy Landing Day to you." She starts to walk back down the steps.

Burr and Thorn still haven't returned from the airship. But then, in truth, not much time has really passed.

( I told him where to meet me. Hopefully he has the sense to bolt if the poodles cause any problems, and I can't even imagine them actually being on the ship right now with all the partying going on to notice. Well, if he's not back by the time I leave the Pantheon, I'll start to worry. ) She pulls a small piece of paper from her pocket and scribbles on it while she weaves through the crowds.

Down the way, a chocolate-furred kitten sits by the corner, underneath a sign that reads, "Tuir Gide". He watches with wide eyes as Katthas in costume and fur-dye march or dance or even flip down the street, dressed as the various gods, goddesses and a few mythic heroes thrown in for good measure. To be truly universal, though, they've added in a few deities from other lands – some female bats, a Naga with golden scales, someone in the costume of a giant gear, a man in robes with a glittery mask that resembles a star, and various other odd costumes.

A black Kattha in black zolken robes strides down the street, his face hidden in a black half mask. He turns, smiling to Willow, beckoning with his hand … or perhaps he's just beckoning to her and countless other bystanders who happen to be standing in that general direction.

The Skreek stops in mid step and glances at the Kattha, pointing to her chest in a "Me?" gesture.

The Kattha rears his head back, laughing … and continues along with the rest of the procession of deities and heroes.

Willow shakes her head and resumes her trek towards the Pantheon.

It takes a bit of weaving, but Willow at last makes her way to the Pantheon. The statues are there as before … and also, as before, the building is empty save for herself, as there are many festivities going on outside, and many other places to drop offerings to one's favorite deity or deities.

The Skreek carefully walks in a circle around the statues and then sits down at the feet of the Dagh statue while she finishes writing her note.

Still, it looks like some offerings are still lying at the feet of most of the idols. The idol of Ariel has a flower that has been perched over one ear. Dagh, not surprisingly, hasn't anything at his feet … save for a Skreek.

Willow peers at her handiwork on the note, hastily composed in her mind and messily scribbled while walking. "I am not angry at you. I do not hate you. And I do not offer you empty words and indifferent pity."

"Do you truly want my worship or would you rather have my understanding? You admired me… you must still see yourself in me even though you deny it. Look at me now. I am still so much like you, if only you will stop hating long enough to see it."

"My hand will always be out, and you will find that what I offer you could be greater to you than the worship of the most powerful man on Sinai. I am no teacher, and no shining example… but I can still show you what I feel."

The Skreek tucks the note into the small container and seals it, placing it and the flowers against the feet of the statue of Dagh.

There are no rumbles of thunder, no flashes of lightning, no creepy sensations at the edge of Willow's perception.

Willow doesn't feel quite right about kissing the statue like Ariel did. Instead she simply reaches out and places her hand against the statue's hand. "I've no idea what kind of flowers I picked out, but I thought they were nice. Not sure why… maybe because they looked a bit like a miniature carpet of flowers on a small hill of green." She shakes her head. "I'm not expecting you to talk to me or make any appearances, just so you know. I only came here to give you the flowers."

The stone feels cold and lifeless to the touch.

The Skreek takes a few steps back and glances out at the doorway to see if the two cheetahs have made it back yet.

At the base of the steps, Willow can see one big cheetah and one little one sitting there next to the baggage, munching on sandwiches, the bread strangely shaped in a way that (with an amazing stretch of the imagination) might remotely resemble the shape of the Ark. (The Ark, that is, with sesame seeds on top, and split down the middle to fit some meat, cheese and vegetable slices in between.)

Willow lets out a sigh of relief and sits down next to the pool. "Ariel… do you feel like making an appearance?" She gently dips her hand in the waters.

The waters tingle to the touch, and feel pleasantly warm compared to the winter chill (even if the winter chill is pretty mild here in Olympia).

For the moment, though, no milky-white kitten presents herself.

"Hmp. You know, if this wasn't a public place I'd be tempted to hop in here for nice soak. I'm still achy from all of that work." The Skreek glances at the other statues. "What about the rest of you? I was told gods plural. Do any of the rest of you want to come and say something to me? I'd like to know which of you I'm a play-toy to."

The idols just stare. Not a one of them ventures to say a thing.

The Skreek stands up and shakes her hand off. "All right then. Happy Landing Day to you all." She makes a weak salute and wipes some of the water off on her hair, turning around to head back outside.

Nothing impedes Willow's departure. Burr and Thorn are still working on those sandwiches … but that's probably because the bread seems tough and chewy, more so than that the sandwiches are especially large. Ah well. Burr will just have to learn that sometimes, things are cheap for a reason.

Willow plops herself down next to Burr. "I'm all done here, boys. I doubt that any ships will be leaving tonight with all the festivities going on, but hopefully tomorrow we can find a ship or a wagon to take us back. I'm thinking we might have better luck looking for a ride to Cobalt lands, since he does a moderate amount of trading. From there, it's only a day to Diamante. The trick will be finding a place to sleep tonight. No doubt this city is booked solid."

Burr nods, chewing fiercely on his sandwich. Thorn, however, has pretty much given up on the bread, and is just eating the innards out of his "Ark".

Burr signs, "Any other stop in here city?"

It looks like the "gods and goddesses" from earlier have been partaking in some sort of ritual dance or whatnot in the middle of the street, but that their performance is ending. The "foreign" deities head off in a group, while a few robed Katthas come to escort off the Olympian deities in different directions. Those escorting the "dark" deities wear obscuring hoods.

"None planned, although you know how circumstances can change in a heartbeat. For all we know, one of the princes might be out here partying for Landing Day as well." She folds an arm across her lap. "I just didn't like the way things were looking with the poodles. I know it wasn't right to bail on them without a word, but I just get the feeling that they probably would have flown us back to Gallis and never mentioned a word that we'd ever been over Diamante, or they would have chucked me overboard and decided to keep you and Thorn." She follows the Dagh dancer with her eyes as he's escorted away.

The Dagh dancer and his escort head off one of the relatively more narrow streets winding off in a part of the old city that Willow hasn't had opportunity to visit before. (Although that really would describe the bulk of the city, since there's quite a bit in the way of ruins and monuments to be seen.)

Willow swats Burr's arm. "Come on. I've nothing better to do right now and opportunities rarely come when you sit still." She pulls herself up and motions for the two cheetahs to follow her as she starts after the dancer.

Burr starts to get up, and it's actually Thorn who springs to his feet first with a smaller bundle in hand … though Burr has the advantage of having longer legs, and even though he also has the baggage to contend with, he scoops up the smaller cheetah along the way, resulting in several ear wiggles on the part of the cub.

The Dagh dancer heads down the street, dropping out of dance in favor of a solemn march, though it's still in time to a hand-drum played by one of his cowled companions. Two of them hold lamps suspended from poles to light the way, even though the street lamps provide ample illumination as it is.

The Skreek chuckles to herself, although quickly silences it as soon as the march begins. Curiously she follows behind. ( I suppose we're going to his temple here? Hmmm. Either that or we're following him to his dressing room. Ick. )

Sure enough, the group leads up to a dark and gloomy-looking temple. It has no roof, only several broken columns which would have once supported it, and cracked steps leading up to a raised area, where stands a weather-worn statue of Dagh himself, larger than life. The procession heads up to it, and the Dagh dancer removes his mask, placing it at the feet of the statue. Two escorts set down what look like gongs on the ground, with holes in the centers. But their purpose is soon evident, as the light-bearers lift their lamp-poles and set the butt ends down into the bases formed by the "gongs", and let the lamps dangle there.

Willow moves in close enough to watch, but still tries to keep her distance as she studies the goings on inside the temple. Her eyes fall on the statue for a moment and she glances at the shape of its legs.

The statue has Kattha legs, not Khatta legs – that is, digitigrade, like the version of Dagh that tried to roast her in her last vision, not plantigrade like the one who appeared in Gallis.

The gray rat nods silently to herself and continues to watch.

The ceremony doesn't really have much more to it than that. Incense is lit, the lamps are left, and the group files out. As they do, though, one feline remains behind … though he's not wearing the robes of the dancer or the escorts. Plus, he's plantigrade, and it looks like his fur is naturally black, not dyed.

"Burr, stay here please." Willow pats the cheetah's arm and walks towards the temple.

Burr nods, and doesn't look like he had any inclination to go visiting the Temple of Dagh for kicks anyway. He sets down Thorn and the baggage, and finds a spot to sit and wait.

As Willow approaches the Temple, the identity of the black Khatta is pretty easy to discern.

The Skreek puts her hands in her pockets as she walks towards the plantigrade feline. "Nice night."

The Khatta slowly turns around, his eyebrows raising in surprise. "Oh?" Then he smiles. "Yes. Lovely night."

"I wasn't expecting to see you here, although you can probably say the same for me." Willow draws her hands out. "I'm sorry for the curt tone of my note to you. I think I was just looking for an excuse to be angry with you."

"Oh, that's quite all right," says the Khatta. "I was overstepping my bounds, clearly enough, and wasn't thinking it through, either. I cannot hold it against you to be angry with my gesture. You need no coddling."

The Skreek leans against one of the broken pillars. "Why did you do it?"

"It was an impulse," says the Khatta. "Well, not entirely an impulse. Magic doesn't lend itself well to impulses. It just seemed like the thing to do at the time."

Willow shrugs. "I suppose it's providence that I met up with you here. Although I'd planned to visit you much later after visiting the Diamantes first. Something still seems rather appropriate that I end up meeting you here."

Prince Dack laughs. "Not the greatest of ironies that I would be paying respects to my ancestor on a holiday. But perhaps ironic that you would be here."

The Skreek drops her head. "Dagh and I had it out recently. Amazingly he didn't kill me, although I probably ticked him off enough to make one wonder why."

The prince looks at Willow. "What happened?"

"He called in the favor I owed him." Willow studies her hand. "Tried to use it to humiliate me because of a decision I made that he didn't like, and then I think I started saying things to him that hurt a little too much. Still, I did do what he told me to do and I'm off the hook as far as favors go now."

The prince gives Willow a genuinely confused look. "Well … that is good, is it not?"

Willow looks up, studying the face of the prince. "I suppose, but now I'm sad for Dagh."

The prince's expression remains somewhat lost for a moment, but then it slowly segues into a wry grin. "Tears for Dagh? Oh, don't worry about him. I'm sure he can take care of himself. He's done just fine for … what … six thousand years?"

"You're not six thousand years old, Prince Sebazhan," The Skreek replies.

The prince blinks. "No, of course I'm not."

"Tyrne told me that you play him sometimes." Willow keeps her tone soft and her posture relaxed. "And when I relived the memory of being abducted as a baby, I heard a young cat's voice that was watching in the background. The water spirit, the drowned maid." She shrugs.

The prince's cool composure suffers another crack, as he swallows hard. "I… " He looks a bit weak on his knees, and takes a couple of steps back toward one of the broken columns, leaning against it.

"It's all right! I'm not angry… Believe me, I've tried to get angry over it, but I've not been able to manage much." She sighs. "I… I just want to know why. And I want you to be honest with me this time, please?"

The prince's back slides down the column, until he rests on the floor, staring through Willow. "That wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't fair. She knew I didn't mean it like that… "

Willow keeps her eyes on the prince, worried that he might mumble a cantrip and try to escape. "And how did you mean it?"

The Skreek considers for a moment and then slides down her column as well to keep from looking down on the prince and to hold his gaze.

"She's a nymph. A forest spirit. The throne … I had to do something," the prince murmurs. "Absalom was going to save you. He said so to Sebazhan. So Sebazhan must have believed … " He pauses, swallowing hard, bringing his hand up to his head. "But Sebazhan hadn't been told that yet. He thought another Naochi was going to die. And he figured out how to use the throne. The nymph was going to help. It was supposed to help."

"So you tried to save my life? Sebazhan… why are you talking about yourself as though you were someone else?" Willow leans forward slightly.

The prince suddenly raises his hands. "No! No, don't come any closer. Please. … I … I'm Sebazhan. Sebazhan Dack. I'm sorry. I … I … It gets cloudy sometimes."

The Skreek freezes. "Prince… let me help you. Please? I'm sorry that you accidentally killed the maid and things didn't go as you'd wanted them to, but I don't hold that against you. Whatever it is you're doing… this throne you mentioned, I get the feeling that it's causing damage to your mind."

"No!" says the prince. "No, I am the prince! I have to sit in the throne. It's my duty!" He staggers to his feet. "I had to learn to use it. I just made a mistake. I learned from that. I won't make that mistake again. I promise."

He cringes, putting his hands up to his face, groaning, his claws flexing in and out as he tenses his fingers. "Ngh."

Willow pulls herself up. "Do you really want to be Dagh? Even though you know what Dagh makes you do? Do you remember threatening to kill a whole roomful of Gallisians just because they were listening to the signs of a priest?" She looks up at the statue and then rushes up to the Prince's side, grabbing his hands. "Stop that! You'll rip your own eyes out!"

The prince looks wide-eyed at Willow – thank goodness, he hasn't gouged anything out – and then he lets out a long breath, his muscles relaxing. "I'm … " He breathes again, then continues, "I'm not feeling well. I'm terribly sorry for that outburst. Perhaps I should just be leaving now."

"NO!" She pulls the black Khatta's hands down but grips them tightly. "Listen to me. I wanted to see you again because I was worried that you were in the grip of something like this. In a way I think it has us both, but I want to help you. You have a good heart, Sebazhan. I cannot believe that you would let yourself become what that throne is trying to turn you into without a fight."

"I'm sorry," the prince repeats, and then his ears blanch. "Please. Leave now."

"No," Willow says again. She swallows as her hands start to sweat. "I don't know magic, and I doubt this is the proper place to say or do such things but… " She dips her head slightly, reverently. "Heavenly Star, please touch this man's heart as you have touched mine. Help free him from the demon that holds him now. Amen." As the words leave her lips she flinches, expecting everything around her to explode into flames again.

No explosions. The prince just stares at Willow for a moment … then his eyes roll back … and he falls into a faint.

The Skreek acks and almost tumbles after the Prince, dragged down by her grip on his hands. "BURR! Here! Now!" She carefully eases the prince down and fans at his face.

In scarcely more than a couple of seconds, the big cheetah bolts up to stand beside Willow, fists clenched, and tail thrashing. He looks about … but doesn't immediately find anyone to punch … and then looks askance at Willow and her fainted companion.

"I need you to carry him. We need to get him inside someplace so I can wake him up. It's all right. I'm sorry to have scared you." She tugs at the prince's shoulders. "There's bound to be an inn here someplace, or his wagon."

Burr nods, and stoops down, then lifts the prince in his arms. The prince just doesn't look nearly so tall when he's being carried by Burr.

The Skreek starts down the steps but pauses for a moment to glance back at the statue one final time. ( Thank goodness it never came to it, but I wouldn't have let go even if I knew he was going to kill me. Maybe it was Misty that taught it to me, but I think I know a good heart when I see one. I see a heart in you too. If I can have one, then anyone can. ) She turns back around and scurries away from the Temple.