[Child of the 7th Age]

Upon hearing this news, everyone in the company began talking at once, asking each other what Gandalf had meant by this point or that point. They chattered back and forth to each other, discussing each detail of the plan. Andreth was sure that in a minute they would turn back to the wizard and pose their questions. But for this one instant at least, Gandalf sat quietly by himself on a log, first eating his meal, and then smoking his pipe and smiling gently at the general hubub he had caused.

With uncertain steps, Andreth approached the wizard with her small book in hand, "Sir, if I may, she said softly, extending the volume to him, "My family has something that may possibly help us. I can not read this, but perhaps you might be able to do so." Her hand shook and her voice quavered as she handed the small and tattered volume over to him.

She did not explain why her family had the book, nor give any details about her kindred. For, perhaps the wizard already knew. And, if not, he could certainly ask.

"And one other thing, sir, you have said I may speak but perhaps to my great peril. I have supected such things, but it is possible you may know more of this, or at least understand more, than my father and I do. I would be grateful for any information you could give me. I long to free those poor souls in the Castle, but I must be honest. I fear that if I set foot on those grounds, I may never get out alive"

She sadly shook her head, looking down to the ground, not even daring to meet his eyes. "Every night now, I dream. Horrible dreams I do not understand. But I can not turn away from the pleas of the children. They come to me and beg for release, yet I do not know what I can do to help them."

[ January 10, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]