"Pothax, take Victoria," ordered Blackaxe. "Derick, Roreed, do what you can for Wynic. The rest of you get rowing."

There was an explosion from the citadel, and the boat rocked precariously to one side. "I'm waiting said Blackaxe when nobody moved. The cutthroats grabbed the oars with complaints of blisters, and began rowing towards the dam.

Huge clouds of smoke had gathered overhead, however Blackaxe betted that there were real clouds up there. Real dark, ominous looking clouds. Perfect end to a perfect day, he mused ironically and wrinkled his nose at Rades.

The cutthroats had complained bitterly when they were told to carry the boat over the dam, but Blackaxe had picked up his axe threatening, and the complaints stopped abruptly.

It began to rain. Blackaxe smiled faintly.

"Figures," spat Rades, still mourning over his ruined clothes.

"I don't see what your problem is," said Sardias. "You're already wet from swimming so why are you worried about a little rain?"

"Don't bother him," whispered Dillard. "He's the sole survivor from Deltex. Imagine losing everybody you ever knew, even your enemies. He's been putting up a good front about it, but I think it's hurting him more than he wants to admit."

"That's depressing!"

Half a hour later and one league out onto the lake, a huge fireball lit up the sky like a giant sun. Heat waves rolled for miles around. A sprinkle of ash covered the area for a radius of four miles. The boat rocked to one side dangerously each time a heat wave hit it broadside. The result was enough to make even Carlo, a season sailor used to the tide, to feel sick.

Derick had bandaged Wynic's injured arm and stopped the bleeding from any cuts he could find. Now the assassin slept peacefully.

"Look," cried Pothax, pointing up at the sky. Blackaxe looked up, expecting another fireball, but instead he stared in silence at the wondrous sight in the sky. A huge shimmering curtain of lights danced around the sky looking like a beautiful white fire. The companions rowed and stared at the dancing lights in wonder for several hours.

"The angels are crying," murmured Redhawk, looking out the window.

"What?" cried Gisoni.

"Help me out onto the balcony, and I'll show you," smiled Redhawk reassuringly. The huge minotaur shrugged, and helped Redhawk out onto the balcony. "See?" said Redhawk, pointing to the north.

Gisoni swore and drew his Goban in surprise.

Redhawk laughed. "Don't be silly, Gisoni. It's just lights. Up in Kinian, we say that it's the angels crying, but we know better. But this is unusual, I've never seen them this far south!"

"What causes it?" asked Gisoni, sheathing the Goban.

"I don't know, but it's supposed to be a good omen. My guess is Wynic succeeded."

"Nebonex," cried Gith, bursting into the Princes chamber. "Grab your brushes, and paints and meet me up in the cupola. Hurry!"

"What? Why?" asked Nebonex, scrambling to get out of his bed.

"You'll see."

"Wow," said Nebonex in wonder, staring at the lights dancing in the sky.

"Hurry up Nebonex. They may not last long. I've always wanted to paint the northern lights," said Gith, setting up a canvas.

"Oh, yeah," said Nebonex, and looked back at the beautiful lights.

"They're called Angel tears or northern lights," explained Derick.

"What causes them?" asked Rades.

"I think it's caused by the temperature since they're common up north, but that's just my opinion. But I do know you can't see them in Stornium. It's too far south."

"Victoria," someone whispered.

The archeress turned around to see the Paladin Assassin. "Wynic," she gasped. "Shh," he whispered, handing her something. Victoria looked down at the silver, emerald studded ring and gasped.

"Marry me."