"That's the worst bit of doggerel I've ever heard," Rae said.

"Not surprising, since GrayWolf wrote it," Morikan looked unperturbed. There was a growl behind him, but nothing there when Rae peered.

"Out and in..." Zak frowned. "A tunnel?"

"Wrong track altogether," Morikan said smugly. "I'd leave the three of you to find it." He bowed mockingly, and disappeared.

"I hate it when he does that," Zak sighed, pushing himself up to sit on the platform. "Right now all the 'in and out' I can think of is entirely off track."

"You'd never know," Rae said, leaning against Teiwaz's chair to allow him to put an arm around her waist.

"Really off," Zak grinned viciously.

"Yes?" Rae raised her eyebrow.

"Nevermind," Teiwaz said hurriedly.

"Spoilsport," Rae accused. "I wonder. Egress and Ingress – entrance and exit?"

"Exit." Zak murmured, then he blinked. "I see..."

"What a stupid riddle," Rae was smiling in relief.

"Explain, please," Teiwaz said impatiently. "I appreciate I'm slower than the both of you..."

"What happens when you exit? You go out of somewhere, and enter, or go in, to another place," Rae said triumphantly. She looked around expectantly. "Where's that stupid dragon?"

"Morikan?" Zak asked, looking around. He frowned.

"Find the answer." The deep, nearly choral voice seemed to come from everywhere. "Find the answer!"

"We have to find the exit," Teiwaz pointed out, with a sigh.

"Easy," Zak said, "Come on." He walked briskly out of the Sword Hall, trailing Rae and Teiwaz.

The corridors were darkened. What few mage lights flickered on and off fitfully. Greasy smoke rose from torches, the dancing flame throwing elongated shadows on the walls.

"That's odd," Teiwaz said, "I certainly don't remember torches."

"Neither do I," Zak murmured, examining one torch holder, metal and pitted with rust. "Oh dear."

The holder was worn with time and dust and neglect. The fire burning on the torches also seemed unreal – too greenish blue for true torch flame, and they did not seem to be scorching the oil-soaked cloth torch tops much.

Zak looked with narrowed eyes at the wide corridor, and led them quietly past into a circular room. In the center was an indoor fountain of a white dragon, mouth gaping open, but no water. Zak looked at the fountain in disbelief, then down at the floor.

Their footprints left visible marks on a thick layer of dust. Rae began to sneeze as Zak squatted down to touch the dust, accidentally stirring it.

"It's abandoned," Teiwaz shivered. His voice echoed around the circular room: "abandon... andon... don..."

For as long as he remembered, the Warrior school had been... was a noisy place, with the soft undertones of 'thwacks' as arrows hit or missed their marks, the ring of metal on metal, faint growls from the Illusion room, the chatter of students and the voices of Masters. This emptiness of sound appalled him – the silence was almost deafening. As for the fountain – it was magic-run... for it to be bone dry was a sharp shock.

"Right," Zak said quietly, "And we're getting out of here."

Rae did her best to copy the way the other two elves moved, as they padded silently and with excruciating slowness in what seemed an eternal maze. Finally they emerged into the large courtyard of the Warrior School.

The courtyard was overgrown with weeds. The small plants sank their tenacious roots into the sand-covered area, but were themselves withered and yellow, if not a desiccated black. The sky above, as if to mock the desolation around them, was a brilliant cloudless blue.

The city around was just as quiet. The buildings were crumbling, and Zak grimly identified a large heap of rubble southwest of them as the remains of the magically floating School of Sorcery. Another smaller pile northwards Teiwaz pointed out as the Flying Horse tavern, another floating structure.

"The Library..." Zak's voice trailed off. The structure was a magnificent ruin. The mother-of-pearl was dulled and tarnished, no longer shining with its multi-hued fire.

The teleporters were mostly smashed, the three noted as they wandered in silent horror through the ruins. The silver handles had all been removed, which certainly suggested an invasion.

Rae nearly gasped when they came to a junction. The street stretching to their sides was pitted with magical craters, and blackened skeletons. Zak walked callously over to one of them, and began poking at the armor. Rae shut her eyes tightly.

"Looks elven," was his comment.

"This is obviously centaur," Teiwaz stood over a more massive centaur. The spine of the human part was shattered, but ended still with the heavy-boned horse skeleton. "Wonder what happened?"

Rae looked down fixedly as the two continued looking at the rubble, then noticed what had been vaguely missing all the time. "Guys?" she said quietly, "We seem to be lacking a shadow."

Zak blinked, looked down, then looked around at the ruins, then up at the sky. Rae noted further that although it had seemed like midday, the 'sunlight' was wan and evenly spread out. Too evenly spread out.

"That cannot be a sun," Teiwaz said, pointing. Rae squinted automatically to avoid the blinding glare, then realized that she could look directly at the circle. It resembled a dull, yellowed moon.

"It's not," Zak said. "Now, we have to think. Where are we?"

"Alternate dimension has my vote," Rae said. "This is weird enough to belong in a season of the X-files."

"World-Maker subreality has mine," Teiwaz countered, deciding not to ask what 'X-files' was. Probably some kind of year.

"We need 'seven tokens'," Zak continued, ticking off the requirement on his fingers.

"It'd be centuries before we find anything here." Rae said. "Where are there Tree-Spirits? Dryads, is that it?"

"Dryads?" Teiwaz blinked. "That's Wraithe-Isle. Even if we could find a way over the ocean there, you wouldn't want to go in. Believe me."

"The only other tree here that vaguely has a spirit is the Druid School, and it seems to be lacking," Zak said dryly.

"Really?" Rae asked.

"See that great space there?" Zak pointed to another weed-grown, wide field just visible over a caved-in roof. "That's where it used to be."

***

The field yielded several large protrusions that may have been roots, but nothing else. Zak sighed, and sat down on a large rock, which seemed to have been thrown by magical force or otherwise.

"I could try portalling us out," Teiwaz said.

"And risk ending up somewhere worse?" Zak inquired, drawing Scorcher. The sword reluctantly burned with its magical red flame. Zak frowned again as he swung the sword – it left a wavering trail not unlike an effect a really hot day had on concrete.

"Magic doesn't work right." Rae voiced the Sword-Master's thoughts.

Zak sniffed the air, then cocked his head. "Do you hear something?"

Teiwaz repeated the actions. "No."

"Yes," Rae said at the same time, ignoring Teiwaz's raised eyebrow. "Smells a faint whiff of a science experiment in primary school. The one about rotting prawns and maggots..."

The sound was definitely more audible now. Rae trailed off as the three strained to discern where it came from, a steady, grotesquely rhythmic schlup...blup...schlup...blup sound.

Zak paled. "Oh no."

"What is it?" Teiwaz looked around nervously. Open field, no place to hide.

"That sounds exactly like zombies." Zak said slowly. Small beads of sweat broke out on his head.

"Are you all right?" Rae asked sharply.

"It's an affectation of mine," Zak admitted, "Never got over it, even though I've sort of been one – and technically am one now. I've always suspected Malice did the Zin-carla spell on me partially because of it. It's difficult to take back control of something you absolutely loathe in your heart..."

"You're afraid of zombies? Walking Dead?" Teiwaz demanded incredulously, "I've seen you face down worse in the Illusion room..."

"You don't have to rub it in," Zak muttered. "Oh sure, it's nearly a fact of life where I first came from – but one thing I always used to do was to put a fair distance after a battle between myself and all those priestesses casting the spells..."

"Nice to see you're human," Rae said, then paused. "Then again, that's not exactly accurate... oh. Here they come."

The horde of zombies looked far away, lurching up a street, but most definitely were coming towards them. Rae and Teiwaz needed no urging to take off after Zaknafein.

"We won't be able to lose them if they're set on finding us," Zak said as he ran smoothly, "Oh damn..."

Rae screamed as hands grabbed her from a smaller street. The hidden zombies attempted to grab at Zak and Teiwaz, but they dodged nearly automatically.

The zombies were things of horror. They reeked a gut-wrenching smell of rotting garbage, flesh, and death. Eyes that were not already decomposed bulged with gas, and their flesh seemed to slough away and liquefy before their eyes. Some magic seemed to be keeping them together. They were mostly humanoid, though with some griffins and centaurs...

"Rae!" Teiwaz drew his swords, plunging into the horde. Rae had somehow drawn her daggers, but her ineffectual swipes and stabs did not seem to harm her captor. Finally she cut off the hands holding her, taking labored breaths through her mouth, but another just as quickly got hold of her, attempting to smother her with its foul flesh...

Some started at Zak, who was warring with himself. His every instinct saw that Teiwaz and Rae were too much in the thick of things to save, and told him to run – before the second horde caught up with him. The stench gagged him and made him nauseous, something he hadn't felt since he'd been resurrected the second time.

He tried turning intangible when a decaying Hiran with ragged feathers swooped down on him from above, and found he couldn't. Panicking, he drew and thrust both swords blindly upwards, skewering the flying humanoid.

Scorcher and Frostbite seemed to make an effort. The Hiran fell, making bubbling noises as it began to burn slowly, and its flesh turning to ash that crumbled off its bones. It collided into the two reaching for him – they too, caught fire.

Zak held back the bile rising in his throat, and looked for Rae and Teiwaz. They were back to back in desperation, but about to be overwhelmed.

"Run!" Rae shouted at him. Sputtering dragonfire spat from Teiwaz's fingers, catching a few of the nightmarish creatures, then the magic seemed to stop.

Zak looked at them indecisively. If he ran, there was a chance that he would survive, or bring help if he could find it... if he stayed, since he seemed to be the next best thing to being mortal, he would die. There were no such things as one person against many and winning, he knew.

Then again, if he left, he needed them to get out of this world, so if they died, he'd be stuck here.

It was easier to charge in with that solid implication other than some half-formed idea of self-sacrifice.

***

"I thought he had better sense," Rae muttered. Her voice, filtering through her harsh, nearly sobbing breaths, sounded odd even to herself.

Teiwaz didn't answer – one thing Zak and the other Warrior School Masters pounded into them was not to waste energy on anything else in a fight other than fighting itself. Killing or overwhelming your opponent was satisfaction and ample repayment itself to any insults that may have been flung.

He'd given up on the dragonfire, or any other spells. Some ambience about the ruins warped magic. Anything he did either failed, worked miserably, or turned on himself. Already his cloak was scorched, and some of his hair singed.

The leprous arms still reached at them, nails blackened with filth and worse scratching out, flesh sloughing off. Up close, what was left of the humanoid zombie features weren't frozen in the stereotypical horror, or rage, or mindless bloodlust, but a grotesque, leering, smile that bared the rotting teeth.

Stabbing their hearts or other vital organs didn't work. Maiming and such did, but Rae cried out when a severed hand raised itself on five long, once-aristocratic fingers and scuttled, spider-like, over to her ankle and latched on, nails digging in. She'd kicked it away with unnecessary force, where it had proceeded to attempt to strangle the zombie it'd landed on.

That gave Teiwaz a quick idea. "Keep moving," he whispered to Rae. She understood nearly instantaneously: the zombies that lacked eyes seemed to have more trouble following, and just went along with all the converging others. If they moved, they'd give no chance for converging.

Zaknafein had plowed his way over to them. He acknowledged Rae's relieved smile with a nod, then ran through one that came up behind her. His eyes were still very wide, and he was too pale, but he never faltered.

"Overtrained," Rae offered.

"Shut up and fight," Zak snapped. "Now. There as to be a focus around here. These are magical constructs, not the normal Resurrect-and-leave-alone type. To keep them moving, let alone focus on us, needs a fix-point."

Teiwaz nodded, still hacking at a barishi corpse. The once-intelligent eyes were deflated already, but the cruel horns nearly caught Teiwaz on the side.

"Anything particular?" Rae inquired. Zak winced at her clumsy swipe that only managed a harmless laceration across what looked like the remains of something elven. The daggers seemed faster, lighter, but useless against parrying such attacks.

"It'd be nearby." Zak said, "Or getting closer. They're getting better." He didn't need to elaborate who 'they' were. The moves were faster now, nearly as fast as something alive was.

A wild laugh behind at the field they had left. Standing precariously on the backs of two decaying centaurs was a smaller shape, holding something aloft that flashed occasionally. There was no light that illuminated and cast a shadow, but it was as glaring as looking at a morning's sun.

"Focus?" Rae asked wearily, hopefully. The girl wasn't fit, Zak saw, and this had already tired her. She was smeared with liquefying decay, and the horror was beginning to catch up with her.

"Possibly. Look at those centaurs." Teiwaz said. The centaurs weren't even dropping bits of themselves. Their four hooves planted on the ground, immovable as rock. Straggly remnants of mane and tail wavered in fitful bursts of wind over the wide expanse.

"I'd break out," Zak said, and did so, plowing grimly through the throng. Wild slashing of both twin swords caused a mild attack of burning in the ranks, and the zombies seemed more wary, drawing back to concentrate on Rae and Teiwaz.

The figure realized late what Zak was attempting to do, and some zombies broke off to lurch after the Sword Master. Zak was running flat-out; swords low, sprinting impossibly quickly.

One of the centaurs tried moving forward, but the shape nearly fell off. It spoke sharply, and the centaur stopped enough for it to vault gracefully down and walk arrogantly forward.

Zak nearly stopped when he went closer. The figure wore a Master's cloak – that of the Sword-Master, though what showed of the back certainly wasn't Morikan's visage. He – obviously a he – was certainly not a zombie, and the face was too familiar.

"Not again," Zak moaned. It was Drizzt.

Drizzt, in some ways, looked more formidable. Instead of the 'innocence' and the eagerness, the remnants of a cold, hard calculating mind of a successful mercenary or lawyer showed under his mad smile. The wild, barely controlled fighter emotions had been – had once been – replaced by the precision and planned thought of one who truly loved fighting for what it was – a way to stay alive and to earn one's bread, and not prancing and posturing.

And most of all, smile wrinkles showed that the 'cold mask' thing hadn't been a facade or a 'protective shield'. It had been a serious emotion that came when he had fought, like a painter that only took out his brushes to paint, that this Drizzt had just as easily put down after to laugh with friends.

This one had made a good Master, Zak knew. This one must have replaced him fair and square. And yet – what had happened?

He was going to murder Morikan later. There would be a later...

"Have you come back then?" Drizzt asked, curiously. He was mad, but like a mirror – everything just reflected off him, not like the usual, insult-him-and-he-makes-a-mistake mad. Zak felt his heart sinking.

"Do you know of an 'exit' that requires seven tokens?" Zak replied, ignoring the question. There was no need to kill one already insane – if he saw whole 'subjects' in his zombies, as far as Zak was concerned, he was welcome to it. Especially if he had been involved in the destruction of the city.

As Drizzt seemed to truly consider this, Zak saw what the glaring thing was. It was a black statuette of a panther. "And leave off my friends," Zak added. "Please."

"Please?" Drizzt repeated, in a tone of near childish wonder, as if at a new word. "Please?"

Zak nodded. It hadn't cost him anything to ask.

"They said that when I changed them," Drizzt waved his hand at the zombie crowd. Zak dared not lose eye contact. "Please, they asked. Please. Don't change us." He mimicked, then smiled, a cold mercenary smile when negotiating a deal. "I did anyway. Guen asked too. Please don't use the figurine for this. But I did. It's the only thing I had with enough inherent magic..."

Zak was still mildly recovering over the fact that Drizzt actually knew how to use the word 'inherent', when Drizzt moved, without as much warning as a striking cat. Zak flinched away, attempting and failing to turn insubstantial, but the panther figurine brushed his arm. Drizzt sprang back.

Zak looked down at his arm. Nothing had happened. He looked curiously at Drizzt.

"Odd, odd, odd," Drizzt commented with mild ire as if he had realized he hadn't bathed for two days.

"You attempted to change me?" Zak asked incredulously. And unwilling respect. This Drizzt would have been a welcome – and worthy – opponent.

"Yes," Drizzt said. "You don't look changed."

"I'm already dead," Zak said, not bothering to grin at Drizzt's raised eyebrow, already moving, Frostbite catching the figurine to fling it out in a tight arc, enough for him to spring for it just as Drizzt reacted the same way.

Scorcher flashed down, making hard contact. There was a cattish sound, almost like a purring sigh, as the figurine broke into impossible fragments. Time seemed to slow...

This Drizzt wasn't bemoaning his broken figurine. He was already, silently, going for Zak, swords out. His swords were tear wrenching to look at, magically blurring things, quest items, and a perfect but alien darting sequence. Zak shut his eyes tight and met the swords with his own, settling into a routine move. He forced himself not to speculate on what happened to the zombies.

Drizzt's strong, confident, beautifully precise non-dance moves abruptly faltered and slid away. Zak opened his eyes to see Teiwaz and Rae. Teiwaz's sword was sticking out of the body.

Zak watched the light go slowly out of this Drizzt's eyes, of eyes that had once belonged to someone, like him, too damned to die, and had been damned anyway. A true son in a way, Zak decided, but he felt no pain.

Drizzt's body seemed to dissolve into dry silvered sparkles that condensed into a pendant of a winking dragon.

"Bloody Morikan," Zak growled, catching the falling pendant.

"Not me," Again, the choral voices. Rae breathed relief as the muck also dissolved off the three of them. The atmosphere around them flickered into something new.

This time, Teiwaz paled.