A massive gate had been erected, but currently it was open, allowing for tantalizing glimpses of the inside. Her mind reeled at the image of dwarves, humans, elves, and even a troll, all laboring under the watchful eye of demons. They were using mortal beings as slave labor, by all appearances, something unimagined in the annals of all the demon lore she had been exposed to. Now more than ever she wished Amirantha was here, and not because he had broken her heart and she wanted to punish him; she needed him to make what sense he could of the tableau before her.

A demon overseer hove into view, and he paused, staring in her direction for a moment. She felt her heart jump and she held her breath. She had never faced a demon as formidable in appearance as this one. He had the head of a deformed ape, with two upswept ears, a grotesque parody of an elf’s. He wore a massive chest piece with a human skull set in the middle like a heraldic device. The shoulders were covered with black steel spaulders that swept up and ended in gold-tipped points. His legs were covered in black armor. He wore a circlet of gold with another skull in the brow, and he carried a massive sword pulsing with an evil red light in his right hand.

He seemed to sniff the air, then after a moment turned away and shouted something to one of the humans. The human bowed and hurried off.

Atop the walls workers scrambled up wooden scaffolding to hoist large stones to raise the massive arching columns. Now that she was closer, Sandreena could see that these rising columns were being installed with great care and she could see their placement was being closely watched. Two men in robes watched and when the stones were in place, both began to incant. The sound of their words was lost, but the feeling that visited her as she watched the construction filled her with cold fear.

Something gigantic, impossible to understand, and to no good purpose, was being fashioned here by demons, who were overseeing mortal workers and mages. None of this made the remotest sense to her, and she knew her cause would be better served for her to start back now, to make sure what little she had seen was reported to Father-Bishop Creegan. This report could not wait for a message, even by fast ship or swift rider, but rather she would presume a voyage to Sorcerer’s Island. Pug and his confederates had devices that would get her to Rillanon in days instead of weeks, and the island was far closer to Durban than Krondor, and a great deal closer than Rillanon. Besides, she thought in passing, the last place she had seen Amirantha had been on that cursed island.

Yet her curiosity tugged at her, for she didn’t think she had seen enough. Still what more could be gained?