Gongs crashed, discordantly beaten to life by a throng of anonymous, blue-robed acolytes. The welcoming ceremony had begun before dawn. The sun was now halfway to its zenith and the rites showed no sign of ending. A pall of choking smoke so thick it obscured the ceiling filled the great hall. The surroundings made it very difficult to think clearly which, Haleth realized as she struggled to stay close to Inglor in the crush of blue clad, anonymous novices, was likely the desired effect.   

They wore patched robes which they had borrowed from two hopeful applicants who were currently tied and stowed amid the boulders along the shore. The faded blue wraps covered Haleth from head to toe.  Inglor was covered from head to knees and he had to crouch to keep the hem dragging along the floor.

Even their hands were concealed in the folds of the coarse material. Except for variation in height and girth, all of the novices were identical. It seemed that the room hall was filled by one large, pale blue animal rather than many individuals.

At first she had attempted to speak to Inglor, but the level of noise made communication impossible. For the most part she allowed herself to be carried around the room by the currents within the crowd.

She glanced to her right and saw the inside of the hood. Fighting the crowd, she slowly revolved around, searching for Inglor’s hunched figure.  To her surprise and annoyance Inglor who was typically the first person anyone noticed in a crowd, was lost in the teeming, identically dressed throng. 

A large weight suddenly pushed against her back.  Haleth would have bolted if the crowd had been thinner, certain that she had been recognized as a fake, but the sheer number of people held her in place. 

Shouldering her nearest neighbours out of the way, she turned to face her attacker. The weight shifted as she moved.  It quickly became apparent that it was a dead weight across her back.  A quick glance past the side of the hood revealed a large, blue-cloaked figure slumped against her.  Haleth almost laughed with relief.  One of the novices had fainted.  She awkwardly reached around to support the unconscious person, unwilling to let him fall to the floor where it seemed certain he would be crushed. 

It quickly became apparent that no one else noticed or cared that someone had fainted.  If not for the press of bodies around them, the weight of the unconscious novice would have driven Haleth to the floor.  As it was, she grunted and strained to hold him upright, all the while silently observing that Inglor had once again chosen the perfect time to desert her.

The crowd suddenly parted, revealing several figures in robes of sky blue.  Without acknowledging Haleth, they took the unconscious novice by the arms and legs and began to carry him away. 

Haleth glanced around the hall for Inglor but the elf was nowhere in sight.   Muttering under her breath, she followed the sky blue clad people through the crowd.

It was difficult work as she dared not follow them too closely. Whereas the crowd parted willingly before the sky blue acolytes and their burden, Haleth found it difficult to move against the pale blue tide.  Progress was made mainly by judiciously placed elbows.  More than one instep was bruised as she fought to keep pace with her quarry.

There was a heart-stopping moment when she lost sight of the sky blue robes.  She was wondering if she would have to aid another novice in fainting to attract them again when she noticed the party, nearly obscured by thick smoke, apparently disappear into the wall.

Haleth shuffled to the wall, wondering how she could manage to open a secret door without drawing attention to herself.  To her surprise, the doors were not hidden.  The wood had faded to the same colour as the stone.  With the obscuring smoke, it was simply not obvious until she was quite close to it.

She hesitated, wondering what to do.  She was certain the door led deeper into the tower and the palantir.  If she went back into the crowd to search for Inglor, she may never get another chance to get this close to it.  She scanned the teeming ocean of blue and realized it would be next to impossible to find Inglor until the ceremony was finished.  And once she did find Inglor, it seemed unlikely there would be another opportunity to approach the door.

She shook her head.  She would have to start without Inglor and trust him to eventually catch up or at least to not allow himself to be captured.  Her mind made up, Haleth slipped unnoticed through the door. She found herself in a small alcove. Several robes of varying shades of blue hung from pegs on the wall. She selected one of medium blue which was a bit too big for her. Then she hung her discarded novice's robe beneath one of a darker shade.

It was probably more dangerous to remain in the alcove than it was to be seen moving around the rest of the tower where there was less of a chance that she would be stopped and challenged.

Fervently hoping that the Hosluin did not bother with passwords, Haleth found another door and exited the alcove.

The alcove opened onto a dimly lit hallway. People passed her without acknowledging her presence. Haleth shuffled forward, her hands thrust into the sleeves of her robe, her hood covering most of her face and wondered what to do next. 

If the eldritch lights emanating from the tower several nights ago had been any indication, the palantir was somewhere far above her.  It was very difficult to tell where she was going with nothing more than the floor around her feet to steer by. Every so often, she would furtively raise her chin to glance at her surroundings

It took several wrong turns and bad moments, but she finally found the stairs. They wound upwards, a grey spiral, along the main outer wall of the tower. Slowly she climbed them, her hood obscuring almost all of her vision, the hem of her robe threatening to entangle her feet with every step.

At varying intervals a landing would lead off the stairway into a long hallway. In these places, Haleth could hear the muffled shambling of feet in the corridor. She forced herself to walk at a slow, measured pace across the exposed area to the next flight of stairs.

Once on the staircase again, she risked pulling back her hood to get a better view of her surroundings.

Light was provided by either smoking torches or a rare, shuttered window. Each time she passed one of the latter she had to make a conscious effort not to rub her bruised nose.

Most of the people within the compound must have been busy with the ceremony because she saw and heard no one on the stairs.

The staircase narrowed as she ascended. The torches were replaced by oil lamps. Evidently the decor improved as one climbed higher. Every so often she would pass a narrow door that led into the body of the tower.

Curiosity beckoned her to open one of those doors to learn what was on the opposite side. She steadfastly beat the impulse into submission, determined to recover the palantir without being distracted.

Haleth was just beginning to believe that she would reach the top without meeting anyone when there was a shout of alarm from outside. This was joined by wordless howls from below her. Guessing that someone had discovered she was loose in the tower, she sped up the steps, searching for concealment.

Loud voices and many descending footsteps echoed ahead of her.

She hesitated for a fraction of a second before turning back down the stairs, intent on hiding behind the door that she had forced herself to leave unopened.

The clamour of voices and the dull thunder of many feet pounding down the stairs grew steadily louder. Haleth reached the small door only to discover that it was locked. Not even bothering to take the time to curse, she put her arm into her robe, fumbled within the pockets of her own clothing and produced a lock pick.

The unseen crowd was almost on top of her. While it was unlikely that they would recognise her as an intruder, they could challenge her. Her strength was in stealth, not in battle. At the very least the newcomers would expect her to help them with their errand. Having come this close to the palantir, Haleth did not want to be forced to retreat.

One more instant and the first of them would appear around the curve of the stairs. Haleth concentrated, sweat forming a fine sheen across her forehead. The lock clicked open and she charged through the door, closing it behind her.

The throng thundered by. There were quite a few people and they took them some time to pass, their footsteps muffled by the thick door. Haleth could not make out any of the words that passed between them so she could not learn the reason for the race to the bottom of the tower.

As it was apparent she would be there for some time and her eyes had begun to adjust to the relative darkness, Haleth examined her hiding space.

A very dim light suffused the area, floating into the room from the thin space under the door. From the limited amount that she could see, Haleth judged the chamber to be the size of a closet.

Once more she dug into her many pockets. Her search produced a candle stub and tinder box. The clink of flint striking steel was ominously loud in the small, dark space.  She raised the stub of the lit candle to examine her surroundings.

A dark curtain covered most of the far wall. Haleth approached it out of morbid curiosity, fully expecting to find a pile of bodies behind the thick fabric. With trembling hands, she lifted the corner of the drapery and examined what it concealed.

There was no pile of bodies. Instead, the curtain hid something entirely unexpected and puzzling: a large woodcut hung in a niche. A tall elf was depicted upon it, his hair lying upon his shoulders, a bow held in his slender hand. Haleth examined it minutely but did not recognise the individual. There was a small inscription along the bottom of the woodcut.

She read it and almost dropped her candle in surprise.

Bottles of various sizes lined the lower shelf made by the niche. Still trapped by terminal curiosity, Haleth placed her candle on the shelf and opened one. It smelled of strawberries. She quickly closed it and put it back, not wanting to disturb anything else.

Haleth retrieved her candle and carefully placed the curtain back the way she had found it.

She had been wrong. It was not a closet. It was a shrine. She doubted that the leading Hosluin would approve of it. It went without saying that they were unaware of it.

In light of this new discovery, Haleth wondered what size and variety of commotion Inglor would cause if he were discovered. The mere thought sent a shiver up her spine.

When the noise outside had faded for what she judged was a reasonable amount of time, she snuffed her candle and waited for a few seconds before replacing it in the hidden pocket. Then she listened carefully. When she was satisfied that no one was outside, she opened the door a crack and listened again. There was still no one there. She left the room, locked the door behind her, and resumed her climb.

*~*

Inglor had tried to stay beside Haleth but the milling crowd had forced them apart. Daring exposure, he straightened and scanned the room.  The air was heavy with thick smoke but he thought he had caught a glimpse of her slipping through a door. With the enveloping robes, it could have been anyone. But the person had skulked in such a familiar way that he could not imagine it being other than Haleth.

A Hosluin in a cerulean blue robe approached the azure-robed man who led the ceremony of welcome and delivered an urgent, whispered message. The incessant chanting broke for a moment and Inglor listened intently. There was a disturbance outside. He briefly thought that Haleth had been caught, but that would not likely warrant disrupting the ceremony.

Again the chanting faltered. In the relative quiet, Inglor could hear the faint but unmistakable sounds of panicked shouting from outside. Although he could not make out any words, he guessed the tower complex was under attack.

Inglor knew that he had to get out of the great hall before the doors were barred to prevent the crowd of novices from escaping and adding to the confusion. He quickly pushed his way to the door where Haleth had disappeared, using his height, strength and agility to either shove people out of the way or dodge around them.

He gained the door and slid through it as quickly as he could, his robes a blue blur.

Several blue-robed figures were in the alcove, watching the door to the rest of the tower. Inglor was almost on top of them before they noticed him. One Hosluin cried out in alarm and the rest immediately spun to face him.

"You!" one said in what was likely meant to be an intimidating tone. "You're not supposed to be here!"

Inglor picked up the nearest blue hooded figure and threw it at the others. They all went down in a heap. He carefully made certain that they would stay down and quiet for some time.

He exchanged his novice robe for one of deeper blue before ducking into the hallway. He followed it, looking for a way up the tower. Small crowds of panicked Hosluin ran past him without noticing him.

Inglor quickened his pace. It took several turns before he found what he sought; a wide staircase that spiraled upwards.

He ascended it, taking the steps three at a time.