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A half-elf finds herself at the mercy of a curious witch.

Zoa, with a single command, sent her couriers away into the air, and told the guard to lead the way, constantly keeping a hand on her box to let anyone watching believe it's content to be of extreme value.

In the outer foyer, Zoa was told to leave her bow and arrows. Coldly she eyed the guard, as if she were considering to refuse.

"Well?" asked the guard.

"I'd rather not be unarmed while carrying this," said Zoa, tapping her glass-box.

The guard turned his eyes to the box, with a quizzical look on his face. It seemed he had trouble finding a connection.

"Are you any good with your sword?" asked Zoa.

"Of course," snarled the guard.

"Good," said Zoa, took off her bow and quiver, and left them against the wall. "If anything happens to me, you will guard the content of this box with your life."

She didn't bother to check if the dense guardsman had caught her drift. Maybe she was taking the charade a bit too far.

"Take me to General Hopez," she demanded.


Hopez was sipping a mug of water when the young courier-woman was led into his office.

"So you are Zoa," he commented.

"Yes, Sir," said the young woman, and with no further words of introduction walked to his desk and placed her glass-box on it. "I have come to kill a spider."

"I thought you had been sent to advice us on how to kill spiders," said Hopez, cooly. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw that his scribe, old man Mekel, had left his seat and was sneaking toward the table.

The young woman had seen it too and, holding a protective hand on the box, glared menacingly at the scribe.

"Please," said old man Mekel, his voice quivering with age and something else, "I just want to see it."

The young woman wordlessly pulled the box a handwidth further from the old man, and Mekel's lips quivered slightly, as if he was on the verge of crying.

"I was told there was something you wanted to show me," said Hopez, interrupting the pantomime.

"Yes, Sir," said the young woman, and pushed the box across the table to Hopez. "You may touch the glass," she instructed, "but you may not touch the gold."

Hopez bent over the box and looked at the golden sheet inside it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw old man Mekel circling the table till he was standing right next to him.

"What am I looking at," asked Hopez, moving his eyes across the carved drawing.

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"It's a sheet of pure gold," said old man Mekel, his voice quivering with age and excitement. "It really is made of gold."

"It is a depiction of a battle that took place more than four-hundred years ago," said the young courier woman, circling around the other side of the table, till she stood on Hopez's other side.

"I never thought I'd get to see one," whispered old man Mekel, reaching a hand toward the glass box but withdrew it sooner than it arrived. "Look, there is the names of the librarians that filed it." The old man pointed toward the bottom of the sheet where something was scribbled with tiny letters.

"Eight names," continued Mekel. "One for the carver himself, and seven who checked the rendition was correct."

Zoa swallowed and struggled not to look nervous. That scribe knew way too much about the gold sheets in the Emperor's library. The moment he pointed out the circled cross she'd have a hard time answering for herself.

"It's a gold sheet from the Emperor's library," said old man Mekel, and sighed happily.

Hopez glanced up at his old scribe in time to see the man's face change from elation to concerned bewilderment.

"But what is it doing here?" asked the old man, turning his eyes to Hopez. "Those sheets are not meant to leave the Emperor's library, General Hopez."

"I brought this sheet here so the general could see with his own eyes how to fight a spider," said the young woman, on Hopez's right.

"But..." began the old man, on Hopez's left, and was interrupted.

"I assure you," insisted the young woman. "I bring it here with the library's full permission."

"But..." began the old man again.


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