But for the flap of sail and banner, the Skimmer Crane is oddly quiet as the Vartan approaches. On deck stands a white rabbit, a broad-bladed machete clenched in a paw. The three Wimmer crewmen keep a healthy distance away in the ship's rigging, and watch carefully. A brown Lapine head peeks around the cabin of the vessel, and there's a slight creak of a bowstring being tightened.

A black rabbit watches from the door of the cabin, his skedat whip's shell concealing a smooth rock in his fist.

Anisa keeps her eyes set on the incoming hippogryph, tightening the grip on her machete. "Does anyone know who that is?"

"I guess we're going to find out," whispers Royce. He peeks from under a canvas longboat covering, his nose quivering. The Vartan draws near, and her shout can be heard in the distance, muffled by ocean wind, but clear as high noon to Anisa. "Permissions to board?"

The white Lapi blinks, perking her sensitive ears high to pick up the yell. "She wants permission to board," the rabbit yells back to the captain, "what should I say?"

Gibson glances back into the doorway of the cabin, saying something in an aside to the crane behind the glass. The outline of Keldon's head nods, and the black rabbit looks back at Anisa, calling, "Let's hear her out!"

Anisa nods, and turns her attention back to the Vartan. "Permission granted!" she half-screams, half-yells, sounding weird in her high-pitched Lapine voice. She backs away closer to the cabin, just to be safe.

The Vartan closes in on the ship, and with great sweeps of her wings, lowers herself onto the deck. Her talons bite the floorboards with a great cracking noise, and she slowly folds her wings, glaring down her beak at the rabbit a good three feet shorter than her. Her garments are fitted, but simple, tending towards earth tones without even the customary glittery bits most Vartan are loathe to do without. Only her arms are really visible; though not bulky, they're corded with straps of muscle. She looks unarmed.

Anisa's tough, but she knows when she's outclassed. Swallowing slightly, the rabbit keeps a defiant look, her chin held high and her grip still on the machete. "Good day to you, ma'am. How can we be of service?" The little Lapine stands her ground.

"I brings message from leader," she says, her voice high and whistling as she unstraps a soft leather pack off her back, very careful in the way she handles it. The reason why becomes evident. Inside is a rounded mirror of polished hematite. A frame of wood is spaced with expensive-looking brass and copper, and the Vartan cradles it in her arms, the mirror's surface faced out.

The white Lapi furrows her brow, looking at the mirror. "A message? About what?" She looks up at the Vartan. "Well? Aren't you going to tell us?"

The hippogryph reaches into a pocket of her trousers, and draws forth a small stick of finely carved wood. Sigils are engraved in it, the runes painted with a finish that looks metallic. She snaps it betwixt her fingers over the mirror, and glittering dust trails from the broken ends, washing over the surface of the hematite and disappearing. A few moments pass, and the reflections in the mirror blur. Anisa's reflection is slowly replaced by that of a Cervani man.

Startled, Anisa jumps backwards, bringing the machete to the ready. Shaking her head, the collects herself, inwardly cursing her jumpiness. She paces back forward, and peers at the mirror, nose twitching in curiosity. "Uh … hello?"

The image clarifies slightly. The fellow in the mirror is handsome by Cervani standards, and dressed smartly in a tailored white suit. Though he has an ebon cane with an ornate steel head, he obviously has no need to lean on it, being tall and athletic of build. A swordsman's cloak is draped over his shoulders at a rakish angle, and he holds himself in a confident manner. "Good day, miss," he says, his voice deep and smooth. "Finally, I have the honor of speaking with you."

"I … I guess I could say the same." The Lapi smoothes her ears back, regaining her composure. "That is, if I knew to whom I was speaking to." She looks at the mirror with one large eye. "Could I have the pleasure of learning your name?"

"I am Secretariat Vandringer," says the Cervani, bowing deeply at the waist. His great antlers almost look as though they'll come right through the mirror's surface, but then he rights himself again. "And yours, my lady?"

"Christina Anisa Snowshoe, sir," Anisa says, giving a small curtsey, although she loathes doing so. "Can I also ask what business you have with my friends and myself?"

Vandringar's smile broadens a little, though still just a crease. "Well, I believe we had a misunderstanding concerning some property of some associates: a steel-covered tome, and a pretty crystal amulet, much like this one." He reaches a hand up to his throat, and tugs at a thin chain around his neck, pulling something over his collar. It dangles from the end of the chain, a glassy rhombus of blue … no, green. No, that's right, blue. Wait, now it's green.

Reaching up to her own throat, Anisa clutches her own amulet, backing slightly away from the mirror and setting her ears back. Her brows crease as she watches the other amulet, trying to decide it's color. "And this misunderstanding is exactly… what?"

The First Stone rests comfortably in Anisa's paw as its twin cycles through its colors from around Vandringar's neck. The Cervani in the mirror lets it drop, tipping his head. His voice is jovial when he speaks, and his face friendly, as though he were one of two airship passengers having a good chuckle over a case of mixed up baggage. "You see, the tome belongs to a close personal friend of mine, a Naga by the name of Baleforte'. Through some unfortunate mishap, it turned up missing on the airship. He was quite worried, you know. It's worth a pretty sum for its cover alone. You can't imagine our relief when we heard it was found by a considerate Lapi girl! We sought to reward her for its return, but sadly, we aren't very familiar with this region."

"I'm sorry sir," responds the white Lapi, "but I don't know what book you're talking about." Bending down, she rummages through her pack, and pulls out an old dog-eared novel, then stands up and shows it to the mirror. The cover resembles that of some cheesy romance novel, with a well muscled male Jupani clutching a slender wolf maiden in an embrace. The title claims its name to be "Howls of Passion." "This is the only book I have, but I got it at a corner bookstore. You can borrow it if you'd like." She smiles innocently.

Vandringar's smile widens just a little bit as he raises his head back up. "Now now, my dear Ms. Snowshoe. Here we are at this misunderstanding again. You needn't be shy about having held it … know that I or my associates find no fault with you having found it. Nor do we find fault with however you came to acquire that amulet … from another friend, perhaps? A relative? He looks something like you. Ah, but I should get straight to the point; the enchantment on this mirror won't last long. I would like to buy both the tome and your amulet."

Anisa's innocent look melts away, and her brow furrows slightly at the mirror, her paw once again clutching the amulet. "Why?"

"My associates and I… we're collectors, of a sort," answers the Cervani, clasping his hands behind his back. "Through our extensive channels, we find artifacts much like the ones you have discovered, and research them. Some are just trinkets. Some we discover to be useful. Those that are useful are studied even more, and instead of moldering in a museum, are employed for the betterment of our organization, and by association, all those around us."

The Lapi perks up a single ear, keeping her other laid back. "Go on… "

Secretariat Vandringer strolls to one side of the mirror, and the hazy view follows him as he walks. "Some of our channels aren't official. Some of them include bright, talented people like yourself. We seek these people out, and both of us benefit from the exchange that passes." The Cervani arrives at a table, gesturing grandly over it. Piled on it are metal coins of all types, some in loose bunches, some stacked high. Silver and gold glint from around porcelain vases, bottles of expensive-looking wine, and gemstones laid out on beds of cotton. "Perhaps you'd care to hear an offer? I'm sure you'll find it quite worth your while."

At this, both of Anisa's ears perk up and forward. Her nose works overtime as her eyes widen at all the finery, and she suddenly realizes that she leaning forward with her mouth dropped open. Shaking her head, ears flopping, she forces herself to come back to reality. "I'm sorry … th-the stuff isn't for sale."

"Everything is for sale, my dear Ms. Snowshoe," the stag laughs good-naturedly. He tosses his cane up to grip it near the "foot", tapping the steel headpiece over his shoulder thoughtfully. "The steel tome, for instance. That elaborate cover could well be worth two silvers, and a silver for the worksmanship. The book itself, in good condition, could be worth two silvers to collectors, bringing us up to a piece of gold." He leans forward a little bit himself, as if to meet the Lapi, and winks. "But such a sum would be a pittance to someone both smart and pretty. Money is little object for us, so we'd think four gold for the tome would be well-spent. That's twenty thousand shekels."

The Lapi's ears flush bright red at the comment, and she sets her ears back again. "I'm sorry, but like I said – " She pauses, kneeling down to replace the novel to her backpack. "The items are not for sale. Not at this time."

The stag lays his head back. "Oh, that's most unfortunate," he sighs, shaking his head. He then smiles again. "Then perhaps your amulet? Why wear a lump of strange crystal on a string when you could wear … this?" Vandringar reaches across the table with the head of his cane, itself a Cervani stag, and hooks a necklace with one of the antlers. Lifting it up, a gold chain twists about beneath the cane's head. From the chain depends a large blue sapphire, deeply starred. Its facets twinkle from a regal golden setting worked to resemble leaves with silver flowers. "It can only accent your beauty," comments Vandringar.

Anisa blushes deeply again, her large, coal colored eyes fixated momentarily on the sapphire's beauty. A thought pops into the back of her mind, however – a memory. It is the memory of the strange dream she had, of how she woke up … changed somehow, and of how the amulet had something to do with all. And that something is what she intends to find out. Clutching the amulet once more, almost possessively, she shakes her head. "Sorry, no trade." The white Lapine backs away from the Vartan. "I think our business is concluded, sir."

The stag's eyes narrow slightly, his face hardens and he straightens back up, laying the sapphire necklace back on the table. Glancing at the floor for a moment, he looks up again, turning his cane to set the foot of it back to the floor, face amiable once more. "That's unfortunate, Ms. Snowshoe … but I know an offer dropped when I see one." The image in the mirror distorts slightly, and Vandringar turns his head to look at something off to the side before looking back at Anisa as things snap back into focus. "It would seem the enchantment on the mirror is fading. These rituals are notoriously short-lived, I'm afraid. Please keep it with my esteem, Ms. Snowshoe. Perhaps we will speak again sometime."

The rabbit nods, "Perhaps so. Good day sir." She swallows once again, hugging her machete closer.

The image in the mirror distorts again, then twists and ripples like a pond with a rock dropped in it. When the image clears, Anisa is once again looking at herself, a white rabbit gripping a machete, the other paw wrapped around her pendant. The Vartan kneels down to set an edge of the mirror on the deck, then lays it flat.

Anisa blinks at the frightened looking little creature in the mirror, then realizes that she's once again looking at herself. Shaking her head in start, she collects her nerve and puts on her look of defiance back on. "What are you doing?" She says to the Vartan, "shouldn't you be getting back?"

"You wants I break mirror just throw it down?" hisses the Vartan. The flesh around her beak tightens angrily, and she points one taloned hand. "I see you again, mirror or not, Lapi." The wings on her back spread, and begin beating.

The rabbit glares at the hippogryph, genuinely miffed this time. She puts one paw on her hip, and points the tip of the machete at the Vartan with the other. "I'll hold you to that, blabber-beak!" She squints her eyes as the wind caused by the massive wings press upon her, ruffling her already on end fur in every direction, but she stays put defiantly.

The Vartan looks as though she wishes to stay to settle things, but her wings carry her up and away. She wheels above the sails, and turns away with a last keening cry to start the flight back to her ship. Various Lapi issue from various hiding spots, and a Skeek emerges as well from where she'd been spying, and murmurs travel around amongst them. "Whoa, can you believe that?" "That was one classy bloke," "We're in for it now," and so on.

Wanda, in the meantime, nudges the mirror with her toe thoughtfully.

"I'm gonna take a wild guess and say that they're angry with us now." Anisa smoothes her ears back, sighing, then kneels down to fasten her machete to her pack. "Anyways, that must be our competition, and yeah, they were rich and know how to use magic, just like we thought." She looks over to the mouse. "What should we do with that thing? Toss it overboard?"

Gibson snorts, casting a glance at the Vartan's retreating form. "Just as well. I probably didn't even need to bother hiding like that. They know I'm with you."

Wanda nudges the mirror again before looking up, grinning cheerfully. "Oh, just smashing it would be just as good, sugar. And we could keep the copper and brass bits."

Anisa nods to Gibson, then looks back at the mirror. "But why did they leave it here?" She walks to the device, and nudges it with an oversized Lapine toe. "They might use it as a weapon or something. I say we smash it." She nods to Wanda, and taking her pack, positions it to come crashing down on the reflective surface.

Royce looks the most agitated of everyone. He hops up and down urgently, on the verge of panic. "Forget about that! Now they know Anisa's … they know our name! Our family name!! What if those maniacs go after our parents?!"

"I wouldn't worry about that," drawls Wanda, leaning back nonchalantly against a ship's railing.

The white rabbit freezes, pack still raised above her head. Her heart sinks, as does her ears. "I didn't even think about that!" She lowers the pack to her chest, turning to Gibson with a worried expression. "Wh-what if they do go after Mom and Dad?" She drops the pack to the deck, then plops down upon it heavily, placing her forehead in her paw. "They could go after the Tavern, or Ben!"

All the Lapi look struck by the possibility, and Gibson looks to be on the verge of diving back on the mirror to try to make it work again. However, Wanda merely shakes her head. "Vandringar isn't that kind of fellow. He likes a challenge, and he has some small sense of fair play where it concerns adversaries he respects." She touches a clawtip to her lower lip thoughtfully. "For a megalomaniac, he has a pretty well developed sense of honor."

Anisa keeps her look of worry on for a few seconds more, then freezes. "Megalomaniac?" She turns to look at the Skeek. "Are you telling me that you know who this guy is?"

"Yeah, how in Necropolis would you know?!" screams Royce, pointing a quivering finger at the mouse. His ears are flushed red, and he looks like he's just about read to tackle her overboard. Gibson looks at him worriedly, but also keeps an eye on Wanda.

The sister Lapi glares at her little brother. "Settle down, Royce! Your freaking out isn't going to help us any!" Keeping an ear and an eye on the splotched sibling, Anisa turns back to the mouse. "How do you know of him?"

Wanda waves her paws in front of herself. "Easy, easy," she says, smiling winsomely. "I'm on your side! I guess it's safe to tell you the score, now that I know you're all friends. Even chili-pepper there."

Anisa sits back on her back, perking her lobes at the Skeek. "We're all ears."

Wanda lays a hand against her chest as though she were flattered to be accepting an award, and was about to give a speech over a luncheon. "Where do I begin? Well, let's start with this: I… am a Curator."

The white rabbit arches a brow in confusion. "You're… a what?" Her nose twitches wildly.

The Skeek stands away from the rail to walk a slow circle around the mirror, examining it thoughtfully as she speaks. "A Curator … of Sinai's Museum. Well, I'm not really a full-fledged Curator yet … but we're a group of like-minded people that hunt down artifacts like the one you're wearing, or the one we've been reading."

Once again, the Lapi clutches her amulet, eyeing the mouse with a single dark eye. "So you're not just some adventure-seeker thief? You actually have a reason for doing all this?" The rabbit splays her ears slightly, "Where is the museum at? And what do you know… about all of this?" She spreads her paws open and sweeps them wide, as if to emphasize the entire situation.

"Sure I'm just some adventurer-seeker thief, sugar," laughs Wanda, swinging her paw at Anisa in a 'g'wan' gesture. "I just do it for a couple more reasons than some others. Sinai's Museum isn't in any one place … kind of like the Society of Cinders, and Rephidim itself, we study artifacts. Often just wherever we find them, if a real Curator is there; sometimes we bring them back to safe houses if they need more intensive study." She puts her paws on her hips. "We just don't happen to think organizations like Rephidim or the Society are likely to use them responsibly … motives that they have."

"So you're an organization? What's the 'Society of Cinders'," inquires Anisa, shifting uncomfortably on her pack, "and what are their motives? Are they curators like you?"

Wanda tosses her paws in the air, wobbling them and giggling. "Well, mercy me. Tell me how this strikes you: they're a band of extremely rich snobs banded together with a 'better than thou' attitude and some armchair historians. They believe it's their right to use artifacts they find to establish their own power. After all, they're rich, a lot of them are nobles … it must mean they're better, right?"

The white Lapi just stares at the mouse for a few seconds, an ear flopping forward over half her face in confusion. "N-no, I wouldn't say so." She grimaces at the Skeek. "So they're just a bunch of rich kids that want to take over the world? That's it? Sounds kind of anti-climactic." The rabbit crosses her legs, resting an elbow on her knee, and her chin in her paw.

Wanda folds her hands behind her back much like Vandringar did. "Or enslave/devolve/kill everybody that doesn't want to follow them, if you prefer." The mouse turns back to the mirror, and squats to look at herself in it. "Really, it's not as cut and dried as that. Many of the members are wealthy fellows with superiority complexes. Some are fanatics who insist on 'cleansing' Sinai. Some just want the thrill of belonging to such a thing, and some just think it'll make them wealthier and more powerful, and want to operate outside the boundaries of international law. They're a more sophisticated group than I really give credit … and I can't be totally sure what goes on in Vandringar's head."

"Enslave? Cleansing?" Anisa squeezes her eyes shut and rubs her temples, ears set back. "You're making my head hurt. What does devolve mean?"

Royce speaks up, though his voice is somewhat pinched. "It means to evolve backwards … more towards animals than towards what we are."

"And to evolve means… ?" The white rabbit looks clueless. "More towards animals? How is that?" She shrugs, looking obviously confused. "We are what we are, aren't we?"

"It's the difference between a snake and a Naga," says Gibson, rubbing the back of his neck as he searches for words. "The difference between a rakhtor and a Vartan. The difference between animals, and people … creatures that do things based on instincts, and you and me, that think and feel and stuff."

Anisa chuckles slightly. "Well, of course! That goes without saying, doesn't it?" She smiles naively. "I mean, I've never seen any four legged Lapi. That's ridiculous."

Wanda pokes Anisa in the belly with a fingertip. "Don't you believe it. I heard they once had their hands on an artifact that could devolve things. Might've had something to do with that jungle where children are born as savage, mindless monsters. We'd only just caught wind of it, but thankfully, some black Khatta took care of it for us."

The white Lapi's gaze goes back and forth from Royce to Wanda, still trying to grasp the concept. "You guys are making my head hurt again!" She grabs her ears in frustration, and pulls downwards on them. "So, these guys want to turn everyone into animals? How?"

The Skeek shrugs. "They're not exactly forthcoming about their plans. I don't even know if that's their aim right now. They could be after anything having to do with the tome and your First Stone."

"That's another thing, " Anisa says, eyeing Wanda as she grasps her amulet, "what do you know about this thing? What did it do to me that night?"

Another shrug. "I don't know that either," answers Wanda, casting a glance at the stone. "You'd be more in a position to tell me. Do you feel different at all?"

The snow colored Lapi fidgets nervously. "Well, I … I had a weird dream that night, real weird. Then when I woke up, my ears were bleeding, but it didn't hurt, and everything was… louder." She swivels her ears to emphasize the point. "It's been kinda nice, and come in handy."

Gibson looks surprised. "Your hearing is more sensitive? What did you dream about? Nobody told me about this."

Anisa turns to Gibson, and nods. "I didn't think to tell you, and I'd forgotten until now." She sighs. "We snuck away to go find the book, and spent the night at some Akwavis' house. That night, I dreamt about being surrounded by all these rods, and these weird shapes – shaped like the amulet." She holds it up to illustrate. "I had to play these musical scales to get away, and there was this strange voice. When I woke up, Wanda found me curled up holding the amulet, and my ears were bleeding. From then on, it was like everything was louder an clearer." She scratches one of her ears, musing over it.

The black rabbit marvels, smoothing his own ears back without really noticing. "Wow… I wonder if it had something to do with those musical scales you mentioned. Like … like it was evolving you to meet some need." He looks sideways at the pendant distrustfully. "I wonder if it's safe … or if it's possible for anything to go wrong."

Anisa looks at Gibson worriedly. "What do you mean, evolve me to some need?" She glances back to Wanda, her face full of anxiety.

The mouse's round face holds a "Your guess is as good as mine" expression. Verbally, she says, "Artifacts are strange things, sugar. We can't often predict what they'll do. Sometimes it seems like they have minds of their own."

Looking down at the pendant, the white Lapi grasps it between her thumb and forefinger. "I should take it off, but I feel weird when I do, like I'll lose it and never find it again." She shakes her head. "I'll keep it for now; it hasn't done anything since that night." She inhales, then exhales heavily. "How far are we from the island now?"

The group peers back at the cabin, where one of the crewmen has been keeping his eye off the bow. He notices the questioning looks, and gurgles, "Just an hour or two to go."

"Maybe we should all try to get some sleep, and continue this when we hit land," suggests Anisa. "You guys are already gonna give me nightmares with all this 'evolution' and 'devolution' stuff."

"Yeah, maybe that's a good idea," agrees Gibson somewhat shakily. "We're going to have plenty to do and think about when we hit the Pearl." He glances sidelong at Wanda, who's looking in the mirror again thoughtfully. Gibson adds, "Especially if there's any more surprises waiting for us."

Remembering the mirror, the white Lapi eyes it warily. "Should we smash it, or let it be?"

"I don't know a lot about magic," admits the Skeek, nibbling her lip. "But I think that it can't do anything once that spell is over. Maybe it'd be a good idea to keep it in case there's some way we can use it to yell at Vandringar later."

Anisa eyes the mirror with distrust, but nods. "I guess so. At least cover it up or something." Anisa rummages around in her pack, and pulls out a thin throw, covering the mirror with it. She yawns.

"Let's get what napping in we can, I guess," Gibson says. He presses his knuckles to his back, and stretches, then finds a spot to settle himself down. The Whitewhiskers have already since curled themselves up on the deck by the cabin, and Wanda unrolls her bedroll to lie in it, pillowing her head with her arms and staring at the sky. Royce just grunts something, and goes to the far side of the deck to lean on a railing and gaze out to sea.

Pulling out her own bedroll, Anisa unfurls it and sets it out on the deck near Gibson. Hearing the grunt, she looks over to her little brother, seeing him head to the railing. Getting up, she walks over beside him. "Carrot for your thoughts?"

For a while, Royce keeps his back completely turned on Anisa, but after a few moments of silence, he allows a sidelong glance. Giving up on that, he simply sets his head in his hands, his elbows propped on the railing. "I… I was thinking about home. After what Wanda said." He wipes his nose on a sleeve of his tunic, muttering, "Stupid vermite. Why'd she have to say things like that?"

The white Lapi props her own shoulders on the railing, crossing her arms as she gazes out to sea. "It's just how she is, I suppose. Pretty blunt." She shrugs at her brother, lightly bumping him with a hip. "Besides, you're the one who insisted on going along, remember?" She grins. "And looking back on it, I'm glad you did."

Royce grunts again as he's bumped, but raises his ears back up, and a little forward again. "Yeah… yeah, I did," he mumbles, his voice a little softer. "I just … do you miss it? Miss home, just a little? For that moment, I thought about it, thought about Mom and Dad, and what it'd be like if they weren't there anymore… if there was no more Snowshoe's to go back to, and I… I almost lost it and pushed that Skeek overboard."

Anisa's expression softens and turns distant. "Well, yeah, I miss parts of it. I miss reading my books by the fire, Ben playing with his toys. I miss smelling Mom's cooking in the morning and Daddy's telling stories to the customers. I even miss Mom's nagging a bit." She smirks. "I don't miss wearing bodices, or being ogled by all the guys that come to shovel food in their mouths, though. Plus, this is an adventure!" She smiles, her coal-black eyes seeming to gleam. "It's the first time we've been off Rephidim, and we may never get the chance again. Best to do it while we can. I'll probably end up getting married eventually, stuck as a housewife all day like Mom, so I have to take these chances as they come, but you're smart enough you can go anywhere you want, do anything you want." She smiles.

"And I doubt Wanda would have appreciated a sudden swim," She winks at her brother.

The patched rabbit nods soberly, smirking at the thought of Wanda actually losing her composure for once. He finally looks at Anisa. "Thanks for … you know … what you said. About being glad I came. It's … um… " He breaks off, his search coming up with nothing, and finally just leans his forehead against his sister's shoulder, his ears laying back down. Off at the bow, the gull can be faintly heard to squawk, "Two hours to landfall, Cap'n."

The older Lapi hugs her brother close with one arm, stroking his ears with a paw as she leans her own head down on his. "We'll be all right, don't worry. Once this is over, we'll go back to Rephidim, I promise. Mom and Daddy'll still be there, you'll see." She falls silent, gazing off into the sea, and continues to stroke her little brother's ears softly.

The Skimmer Crane continues on its course, bound for the rising cliffs of Levitha's Pearl, darker yet against a darkening sky. In the opposite direction, the Society's ship hangs like a thunderhead, seeming to be still, but unrelenting in its approach.