Dawn broke.

For all but the most demanding observers, it was a spectacular start
to the day.  The sky was aflame with brilliant oranges and violets,
fading to twilight blue high in the sky, where night was reluctant to
relenquish its grip on the world.  All around, the landscape exhaled
and began to stir.  A few songbirds began to chirrup in the early 
morning light.  A more idyllic scenario could not have played out 
without divine intervention.

For Getehl, it felt like dawn broke over his head.  The night had been
spent riding a couple of ill-tempered mares they'd picked up cheaply on
the way out of Saillune.  (Specifically, Naga had allowed the 
proprietor of Crazy Aethelbert's All-Nite Discount Used Horse Lot 
to live after he attempted to snap the strap of her Battle Bikini.
That had been a long day's worth of excitement in itself.)

"Naga, can we stop yet?" he asked.  "We've been riding for eleven hours
now."  He then winced instinctively as Naga threw back her head and
raised one hand to her mouth.  He relaxed as she simply stifled a 
yawn.

THEN she laughed.

"OOOHOHOHOHO!  Getehl, where's your stamina?  You should be happy for
the opportunity to witness this glorious sunrise in the company of 
Naga the White Serpent.  Truly, your life could scarcely improve!"

Getehl though of Naga's many, many late mornings, and felt a bitterness
rise in his throat.

"Besides, we can't be more than two or three hours from Ralteague now,
and the sooner we get there, the sooner we can find out what happened
to Mari and, you know, the other two.  There will be plenty of 
opportunities for rest upon our arrival.  Until then, you should try 
to be more like me, impervious to the siren call of sleep's soft...
caresses and the beckoning of warm...soft pillows...and blankets...
and..."

"Naga?"

With great dignity, Naga fell off her horse.

"Naga?  Are you okay?"

Naga loosed an earthshaking snore.

"Right," sighed Getehl.  "I guess we're setting up camp here, then."

                     **************************

                          Slayers Glorious
           Chapter 30: Consternation!  Near misses abound!
                      by Mervyn the Wonder Slug
                        Started by Todd Harper

                     **************************

The Waymeart Magic Guild looked exactly as Actinaea remembered it, and
for that reason she was almost glad that it had provided scant 
information.  It meant they had been able to get out of Weymeart 
altogether by morning, and Actinaea began to breathe easier.  It had
been nice to see Renn again, and the opportunity to burn Drogen's 
eyebrows off had been more satisfying than she'd expected, but specters
of the past are seldom so easily exorcised.  

As it stood, they still had one lead.  Actinaea was not thrilled to
be seeking the Howling Monks of Silence, but they were the only other
group in the area that would have a reason even to have heard of the
Silent Bell.  And so, after getting directions from the guild praetor,
here they were, laboring up a poorly maintained mountain path.

"Are we almost there yet?" asked Mariposa, wiping her forehead with 
one sleeve.  "My legs are getting tired."

Actinaea sighed.  "I think so, Mari.  But I think we can go ahead and
stop for lunch."

They found a nice shady spot under an elm and set their things down.
Luanni undid her pack and fished out the rations that Renn had made for
them.

"So," she said, "why are they called the *Howling* Monks of Silence?"

"I don't really know," Actinaea admitted.  "No one likes to talk about
them around here.  When I was a little girl, there was an old man in
Weymeart who people said failed the initiation into the order when he
was young.  They said the silence finally got to him, and he came home
howling like a madman.  I don't know if that's true, but he did always
talk a lot.  And loudly, too."

"Wow," said Mariposa, with a slight shudder.

They finished their meal in silence (punctured, thankfully, by the 
occasional twitter of birdsong or rustle of wind in the trees).  After
a further twenty minutes or so of walking, the monastery hove into 
view.  It was huge, but oddly unimpressive, as though someone had 
decided to dig up lumps of brown stone and throw them together on top
of a mountain.

The only sign of decoration or even of concious design evident to the
building was the massive wooden door, which bore a small, burnished 
plaque.  Luanni leaned forward to examine it.  It read:

                     Howling Monks of Silence
                           Monastery #42
                  Visitors, Please Knock (Quietly)
                    Delivery and Pickup to Rear 
                        Entrance, Thank You

The three ladies exchanged a slightly dubious glance, and Luanni
slowly reached out and lifted the massive iron door knocker.  It 
slipped out of her fingers as she was about to begin her downward
swing, and all three flinched as it hurtled toward the door.

It connected with the wood with a very soft *bip*.

After a second's stunned silence, the door opened a fraction--
silently--and a startled-looking monk poked his head out.  He held up
a small sign on a stick that said, SHHH!

"Sorry," Luanni said.  "It slipped."

The monk glared at the knocker in annoyance.  He withdrew the sign
into the folds of his robes and almost immediately extended another one
that said, I BET BROTHER TACITURN USED TOO MUCH OIL AGAIN.  This was
followed by one that said, HOW MAY I HELP YOU?

"Er," said Actinaea, slightly thrown by all of this.  "That is, we've
come searching for information on the Silent Bell."

The monk nodded gloomily and beckoned them inside.

The interior of the building proved to be just as plain as the facade.
No banners or tapestries hung from the walls, no rugs covered the
floors, and the candles that lit the halls rested on unadorned wooden
shelves.

THIS WAY, signed the monk, setting off down a corridor.  

"I thought they talked in charades," Mariposa whispered.

ALL OF OUR SERVICES ARE STILL IN MIME, signed the monk, over his
shoulder.  BUT IT TAKES TOO LONG TO COMMUNICATE WITH *switch* OUTSIDERS
THAT WAY.

One thing that the three of them noticed almost instantly was the 
almost oppressive blanket of quiet that lay over the monastery.  Their
footsteps, the movements of the monk's robe, the occasional guttering
candle nearing the end of its life expectancy, all of these things 
should have made *some* noise, at least, but they didn't.  Actinaea
guessed correctly that it must be some sort of air shamanism, but she
was at a loss to figure out what.

The monk stopped in front of a heavy wooden door.

THIS IS THE ARCHIVE. *switch*  IN HERE ARE ALL THE MEDITAIONS *switch*
OF OUR ABBOTS.  THE SUM OF *switch* OUR KNOWLEDGE OF THE SILENT BELL
CAN *switch* BE FOUND HERE.

With that, the monk bowed and shuffled noiselessly away.  

Actinaea rubbed her hands together.  "That wasn't so bad," she said,
as she reached for the door handle.  "We'd best get to work."

"There has to be a catch, right?" asked Luanni.  "I mean, if it were
that simple, surely someone would have found the bell already."

The catch became apparent as the door swung open.  What lay inside 
was not a large room, but it was an extremely full one.  The walls were
packed with books, and stacks of them littered the floor and every flat
surface.

"Do we really have to read all these?" wondered Mariposa.

"I hope not," Luanni grimmaced.  She pulled a thick book off the 
shelves at random.  The spine proclaimed it to be "The Complete 
Meditations on the Location of the Silent Bell of Shazard Lugandi,
by Eldred Q. Pantoufle, 322nd Abbot of the Order of the Howling 
Monks of Silence."  She opened it to the first page and blinked.  She
flipped through the rest of the pages in puzzlement.

"Hey," she said.  "All this one says is, 'That is a secret.'"

Actinaea and Mariposa sweatdropped.  Actinaea siezed another book and
opened it.  "'There once was a Bell that was Silent,'" she read.  "'Its 
seekers were awfully violent. / It got sealed away, / Where we want it 
to stay, / So go home!  Signed, Abbot J. Wylent.'  Great," she sighed,
"secretive monks with a poetic streak."

Mariposa tried the same thing with a book on the floor.  "This one
says...Actinaea-sensei, what does this word mean?"

Actinaea glanced at the page.  Her eyes widened and immediately she 
snatched the book away.  "Never mind, Mari.  Really!" she huffed.

"I'm sensing a pattern," said Luanni.

"But they can't all be like this!" Actinaea said desperately.  "Keep
looking!  There has to be *something* useful here."

Half an hour later, she was ready to retract that statement.  

                     **************************

While Naga and Getehl slumbered in the great out-of-doors, Lady Erika
was busily packing her things in hopes of a swift journey home.  It
looked like she would have one, too, until the carriage reached the
main square of the city and both its axels broke within ten seconds of 
each other.  The horses reared in panic.  She and Aria scrambled out 
the door as quickly as possible while the driver tried to reign in the
steeds.

"What in blazes?!"

"Are you all right, my lady?" Aria asked.

"Yes, yes," snapped Erika.  "But blast it, I don't have time for this.
You, driver!  Go and fetch another coach, quickly.  Send for us at the
inn the instant you return."

Erika sighed as the driver leapt down and ran off.  She leaned down 
to examine the rear axel, part of which trailed forlornly behind the 
body of the vehicle.  Her eyes narrowed.

"This has been sawed," she said coldly.

Aria's eyes widened.  "Who could have done such a thing?" she wondered.

Erika searched her face carefully.  Aria was certainly the most 
immediate suspect, but the amount of terror in her face and the 
fluttering of her hands protested innocence far more convincingly than
her voice.  This would require investigation.

Fortunately for Aria, she genuinely *was* terrified--not only because
the shock of the carriage's disintegration had been more severe than
she expected, but also because she knew that her act of sabotage could
easily prove fatal if discovered.  But the longer she could keep Lady
Erika away from the center of things, the more time her daughter would 
have to search for the bell before being discovered.

"Well, let us return to the inn," Erika snapped.

"Should I not stay behind to guard your things, Lady?"

Erika smiled viciously.  "Anyone who tampers with my luggage won't be
in a condition to carry it anywhere," she said.  She turned, and walked
directly into the vast gut of the Lord Mayor of Ralteague.

"Ah, Lady Erika!" he boomed.  "Spot of trouble with your thingy, what?
Well, what a stroke of fortune.  Bad for you, of course, but good for 
us, as it just so happens we're in need of another judge for the annual
pickle tasting contest!"

"What?" Erika said weakly.

"Precisely.  Come on then!  So glad you aren't rushing off, what?  One
really can't attend the annual Pickle Harvest Ball without going to the
contest, what what?  We've got all sorts this year, pickled cucumbers,
pickled tomatoes, pickled eggs, pickled herring, pickled peppers, and
our very own specialty, pickled grapefruit!"

Erika's stomach lurched violently.

"I say, you look a bit green, what?  Very fitting, very fitting!  Ha 
ha, what?  Come along, come along, don't tarry!"

                     **************************

"Ralteague," said Korvadus, as he slipped into step beside Lilen near
the west gate of Saillune.

"How can you be sure?"

Korvadus smiled.  "I poked around a little on the seamy side of town.
It's amazing what you can find there."

"Saillune doesn't *have* a seamy side."

"Every city has a seamy side.  Even if it's only a tavern where they
serve milk past the expiration date."  He gingerly probed a remnant
of lunch out from between bicuspids and said, "Seaminess is a relative
condition.  Anyway, I found a livery stable man who claimed to have
been beaten up by a tall prostitute who wanted to see his business
records.  They were headed to Ralteague.  Never fear," he said.  "We'll
soon catch up to the White Serpent."

From the alley they had just passed, an aged and maniacal voice 
cackled, "Did ye say...WHITE SERPENT?"

The two of them turned as an old sailor hobbled out of the alley, a
demented gleam in his eye and a dead albatross hung around his neck.

"Did ye say WHITE SERPENT?" he demanded again.

"What of it?" asked Lilien.

"And why are you wearing that thing?" wondered Korvadus.

"I'm assured it's a powerful good luck charm.  Isn't that right, Petey?"
the sailor crooned, stroking the head of the deceased bird.  "Petey
will help me defeat the White Serpent, yes, and then the captain shall 
have REVENGE!"

"Well, it's certainly powerful," said Lilen, one hand clamped over her
nose.  "Why do you seek Naga?"

"REVENGE!  REVENGE!"

"Yes," said Lilen.  "I see."  She and Korvadus exchanged a long look
involving cocked eyebrows and a great deal of concern.  Then they
turned around and walked away very quickly.

"Wait!" cried the captain, hobbling after them.  "Petey and I can be
helpful!  Wait!  Ye'll see!"

                     **************************

It was early afternoon by the time Naga and Getehl made it into 
Ralteague.  They first secured lodging at Hubert Johnston's Travel
Lodge and Fine Eatery and then sauntered over to the city's main
livery stable, conveniently positioned across the street for the 
comfort and ease and, it was hoped, vast expense of visitors.

The front desk was staffed by a familiar-looking and very short man.
As they approached, he looked up and leered, "How may I help the three
of you?"

Naga's eyes narrowed.  "Do you have a brother, by any chance?"

The man blinked.  "Why yes, 's'mattero'fact I do.  Works over Saillune
way.  Why?"

"Just thought I'd save myself some trouble," said Naga.  "Mono--"

"Now, now," Getehl interrupted hastily.  "Tell me, sir, have there been
any carriages from Saillune lately?"

The man looked at him as though he were dangerously stupid.  "Well,"
he drawled, "you mean aside from the ten or fifteen that came for the
annual Pickle Harvest Ball and Festival?  *Other* than those carriages,
do you mean?"

Getehl smiled weakly.

"Volt," Naga finished, as the attendant spasmed in pain.  She spun on
her heels and swept grandly out into the street.  "Well, Getehl, on to
our next order of business," she called over her shoulder.

"Which is?" asked Getehl, trotting after her.

"We eat, of course.  The frail flower of womanhood does not bloom
without sustenance, after all.  OOOHOHOH*OOF*!" said Naga, as a oddly
green-faced woman shoved her aside and lurched into an alley, where 
she was noisily ill.  "The nerve!"

"We came here after Erika," Getehl reminded her quietly.

"Of course we did, Getehl.  But how often does the hero make his daring
rescue on an empty stomach?  Never, I think you'll find.  All I want
is a little light lunch, no more than four or five courses, and then
I shall personally scour the city for any trace of her or Mariposa.
Say, do you smell pickles?  I hear they do a marvelous pickled duck 
here!"

In the alley, the woman redoubled her efforts.

"Are you sure that's wise?" asked Getehl.

"Well, you'd have to choose the side dishes carefully, of course, and
finding the right wine would be difficult.  I think perhaps one of the
milder Elmekian vintages might work..."

Getehl facepalmed.  "No," he said.  "I meant I don't think you should
just run around zapping people and interrogating them about Erika.
You *are* fairly..."

"Famous?  Celebrated?  Legendary?" supplied Naga.

"I was going to say notorious," Getehl admitted, "but my point is, I
think people will recognize you, and if Erika is here I don't think
we want her knowing we're here."

"Oh, Getehl, Getehl, Getehl," chided Naga.  "Was I recognized in 
Saillune?  Was not I the very picture of tact and discression?  Naga 
the White Serpent is a veritable mistress of disguises!"

In the shadows of the alley, the green-faced woman looked up abruptly
and swore softly.

Getehl sighed.  "You might want to start with not shouting your name
in public places, then."

                     **************************

Mariposa sighed and started on the last books in front of her.  She 
read the passage in front of her.  Then she read it again just to 
make sure it actually contained some sort of hard information and 
wasn't just her brain playing tricks after an afternoon of plowing
through bad verse.

"Hey, listen to this," she said.  "'The Bell is cursed, we cannot tell
the true location of the Bell.  But if we could, we wouldn't still, so
go on home.  These beans won't spill.'"

Actinaea looked up and blinked to clear her vision.  "I'm starting to
think the wretched thing must be cursed," she muttered.  "Surely 
nothing else could account for all this," she said, gesturing to the 
bare shelves and heaps of books surrounding the three of them.

"Ne, Actinaea-sensei, is that possible?" asked Mari.

Actinaea leaned against a stack of journals and rubbed her eyes.  "It
isn't that hard to prevent something from being tracked by magic,"
she said.  "I suppose for someone as powerful as Lugandi it would be
possible to prevent it being tracked by ordinary means as well."

Mariposa stared at the ground.  "But my mother said I had to destroy
it," she said dejectedly.  "If we can't even find it..."

"Hey now, none of that," said Luanni.  She put a hand on Mari's 
shoulder.  "I'm sure we'll find it somehow.  Plus, even if it is 
cursed, that means Erika can't find it either, right?"

"I guess so," Mari said, without much enthusiasm.

"Well," said Actinaea, tossing a volume over her shoulder, "I'm out.
Mari's out.  Unless that book in your lap's got something in it, 
Luanni, we just spent most of the day looking for a single piece of
information that sets us back farther than it helps us along."

Luanni opened the book and read out loud: 

   "'In a place without bound'ry
        Where Silence is loud,
     The Bell sleeps forever
        Lest under its shroud
     Fall peace and tranquility,
        Harmony, hope;
     So don't try to find it,
        You big stupid dope.'

"Well," she sighed.  "So much for--"

"Wait, read that again," said Actinaea.

"'So don't try to find it, you'--"

"No, no, the first part."

Luanni reread the first three lines.

"In a place without boundary, where silence is loud," Actinaea mused.
"Maybe there's something there after all.  Somehow that rings a bell."

Mariposa and Luanni groaned.

"What?" said Actinaea, puzzled.

                     **************************

Author's Notes:

First, I will extend my gratitude to Todd, Ardweden, and Ravi for 
proofing and offering suggestions.  Second, I shall make the dreaded 
Apology for Lack of Length, as a concurrent impro part (RECBT #38, for
the curious) and school rather inconveniently got in the way.  It's 
amazing how often things like classes fall into the category of
"annoying distractions."  Also, I must throw in the phrase "senior paper,"
because as far as I can tell, the only benefit to writing one is being 
able to complain about it until your friends are ready to pelt you with 
rocks.  Third, I will stress that the use of The Catchphrase of DOOM was
in no way, shape, or form intended to imply a presence in this story of
The Catchphrase of DOOM's originator.  It was a one-off gag that I 
couldn't resist.

You may now continue with your lives ^_^