Then again, maybe he shouldn't go to the Isle of Man yet. Why give up the scepter so soon? He was getting used to its warmth, the great feeling that it gave him just to hold it. It seemed wrong to let that all go so soon. Think of all he could do with it now that he finally had it.

No! Erec thought, shuddering. He had to go to the Isle of Man immediately. It would be hard enough giving up the scepter as it was. He could feel the part of him that craved the scepter growing stronger. If he kept it longer it would take him over completely. He looked around. The Port-O-Door in the castle would be gone now. How would he get to the Isle of Man?

375.

Of course. The scepter. The king said he couldn't use it for the quest, but getting there was not really part of his quest. He wondered if he should bring anyone with him. But, like King Piter said, nobody else could help him there. The Awen of Knowledge would make them unable to do anything.

Take me to the coast of the Isle of Man, where the Awen are buried, he thought. And, in a blink of an eye, he was there.

The cold wind made Erec shiver. He had forgotten to bring a coat. The energy rumbling through his hand from the scepter warmed him and reminded him how he could get one. Put a coat and hat on me. Make me warm, he thought.

The jolts of power surging through him made him feel invincible. He could feel the Twrch Trwyth vial tingling around his neck, strengthening the scepter's power. Yet at the same time he was depressed. And dazed. He definitely felt dazed. Fog rolled across the island, and it was hard to see through.

Erec knew the king would not approve of him using the scepter for transportation or to get a coat. But what business was it of his, anyway? This coat and hat felt great, and he was as warm as he had been in Alypium. Why was King Piter butting into his business anyway? What good had he ever done for Erec? What a lousy father.

Erec could not remember why he had come. But something around his neck felt warm. He pulled it out. It was the Twrch Trwyth on a chain around his neck. Then he remembered the Awen. That was why he was confused and grumpy. He probably didn't look so hot, either. But at least he could think now that he had the Trwyth Boar vial in his hand.

Mists twisted across the landscape, making it look surreal. Dangling icicles danced under bare tree branches in the wind, like 376.

sparkly fingers pointing at him. A huge cliff loomed over the edge of a grassy heath like an immense shadow. Tangles of heather shimmied in the fog with purple moor grasses, beckoning him forward. Seagulls screamed overhead, their calls like harsh laughter. Aaa...aaa...aaa. Aaa...aaa...aaa.

He came upon the boulder near the spiky furze shrub. The Awen were hidden under there. Without warning, the ground rumbled. A huge rock tumbled down the nearby cliff. As he walked closer to the boulder, he felt more dazed and ill at ease, annoyed. Why was he here? Why couldn't he just go home and go to bed? Why were the Fates always lugging him here and there, running stupid errands? Let someone else do it for once.

A warm buzzing in his hand felt good, and something spoke to him. "Mate, you might want to take that boar vial out and hold it, clear your head a bit."

All right, he thought. Erec closed his hand around the vial and felt better. He just had to attach the Awen to this somehow. But how? Nobody had told him how it worked. He tried to remember what he did know. Let's see. Lots of people died trying this. That was the one thing he knew. Also, the Trwyth Boar vial made all the magic it hooked to far stronger.

Erec frowned. If the Twrch Trwyth made the Awen much stronger, what would happen to him when he hooked one up? He could see why people had died. How was he supposed to do it? Once the Awen of Knowledge became stronger, he wouldn't be able to function at all.

There was one easy solution. He was holding it in his hand. The scepter could do it for him easily. Who cared if King Piter said that he wasn't supposed to do his quests with it? He had it now, so why not use it? What was he even doing this for, anyway? To score some credit with the Fates? To look good to the Alypians?

No. The only reason was to fix the Substance, save Upper 377.

Earth. And if using the scepter would be the easiest way, then good for him.

A scuffling noise made Erec turn around. He saw a shadow in the distance. A person was approaching. Another figure followed, but he could not make out who either of them were.

They were coming closer, headed straight for him. Erec crouched near a rock, scepter held out in front of him. He could use it to capture them. Anger filled him, and he became confused again until he touched the Twrch Trwyth, which was now quite warm.

The figures grew closer but were obscured by the haze. Erec wondered if they could see. As they approached, Erec felt a chill. He grasped the scepter more tightly.

But despite his grip, it jerked out of his hand and flew away into the mist.

A spike of cold filled him, along with a pang of longing. He had lost everything. Who were these people? Did they steal his scepter? He wouldn't be able to connect the Awen without it. What would he do now?

Erec hunched, frozen, as the two people came into view. Both of them wore dark scowls. The shorter one walked calmly toward Erec without a word. The other, tall, bent, and weary, held the scepter.

He still could not make out their faces. A glint of light reflected off the shorter one's head. Was it red hair? Oscar? All he could really tell was that whoever it was looked angry. The larger one started to bend the scepter toward Erec, then stopped. Erec could hear him talking out loud to the scepter, arguing.

It was hard to make out, but Erec could hear, "...don't like him. Want to make him go."

The smaller one trudged closer like a lone soldier in an angry gloom fighting a faceless enemy. Finally Erec could make out his 378.

features. Wiry, bald, and wrapped in a huge blanket, the Hermit looked like Erec had never seen him, muddled and upset. The taller man was none other than King Piter, covered in a down coat. He was discussing with his scepter how he hated everyone and just wanted to get rid of them.

Erec was glad the scepter had put a shred of doubt in the king's mind about sending him into the abyss. He rushed forward and pressed the king's hand onto the Trwyth Boar vial.

The king's eyes sharpened, and his mouth dropped open. "Erec!" He looked down at the magic vial. "So this is the Twrch Trwyth. Amazing. Wonderful job." Erec and the king held the vial between their two hands.

"Just wait until you let go of this vial," Erec said. "You'll think I'm doing a terrible job then. Anyway, I haven't done the hard part yet. The Awen are still under there. Why are you here?"

The Hermit was gazing at them with stupefied hatred.

King Piter said, "I had no choice, really. The Hermit told me this was where you would be. I had to get the scepter back from you before you really made a mess of things."

Shame and desire both raced through Erec. "I wasn't making a mess of anything. The scepter brought me here and gave me a warm coat. But I'm going to need it to hook the Awen up to the Twrch Trwyth. Everyone else died doing it, do you understand? I have to use the scepter and make it easy."

"No, Erec," the king said quietly. "The scepter is not an option here. If you manage to put the Awen together with the Trwyth Boar, that energy alone might be too much for you. If you used the scepter at the same time, your brain would probably boil out your ears."

"Really?" Erec longingly eyed the scepter, almost ready to take the risk. Then he shook his head, forcing himself out of its spell. "But how will I do this without it? Everyone else died."

379.

The king closed his eyes, pained. "This is another reason I am not able to watch you on your quests, why I have assigned the Hermit to always be there with you for them, whether you know he is or not. It's too hard for me, as your father, to see you take this kind of risk. It is a hard decision to even let you do the quests at all. I'm putting a lot of trust in the Fates. My experience with them, and having done my own quests, reassures me. They would not tell you to do something you cannot do. It's only..."

"Only what?"

The king laid a hand on his shoulder. "There are no guarantees, either. The outcomes depend on you as well, Erec. Sometimes they depend on things you cannot control, things deep inside of you. It is possible that you could make a wrong decision here. The Fates know that you can can succeed but not that you will." succeed but not that you will."

Erec stared at the scepter, living proof that the Fates could offer no guarantees. If his father had not shown up, and the scepter hadn't flown to him, as Erec had programmed it to, he definitely would have used it with the Awen and would have been killed.

The king said, "Part of me wants to send you back to a safe room in the castle." He sighed. "I guess there is no castle now, though."

Erec's cheeks burned. "I'm sorry about that."

"Completely my fault. My mistake, remember?" King Piter smiled thinly. "Anyway, I want to send you somewhere safe, not let you do this. Try to hook the Awen up myself. But if the Fates did not ask me to do it, my chances would not be good. You are a wise young man, Erec. If anything is holding you back here, if you don't feel up to it, I will take you away from here and protect you. It's very hard for me to see you make this choice."

Erec thought about his father's offer. He had gotten this far. The Awen and the Twrch Trwyth were only a few feet apart. How could he walk away and let the Awen go back and make those places 380.

miserable again? And not stabilize the Substance for Upper Earth? Everyone there would die in ten years otherwise.

"I'll be fine...." Erec was not sure whether to call him Dad or King Piter. Neither sounded right anymore.

Tears welled in the king's eyes and a half smile lit his face. "At least I won't know what's going on."

They both turned toward the pit where the Awen rested. The ground trembled beneath them, and a small avalanche bounded down the cliff nearby.

"Will you stay this time?" Erec asked. "I can have two other people with me, remember?"

"Of course I will," the king assured him. "Not that I'll be any help. But before I let go of this vial, I am instructing my scepter not to let me do anything bad to Erec or the Hermit, or do anything to harm this quest. No spinning you into space...." He laughed. "Sorry about that. I forgot who you were, just didn't like you much for some reason."

"I know. Thanks...Dad." It felt good saying that, maybe even more so because there was a chance that he might not see him again. He gave his father a quick hug. "I'll talk to the Hermit, then see what I can do with the Awen."

When he pulled the Twrch Trwyth away, the king's face grew sour and dazed again. Erec succeeded in putting the Hermit's hand on the vial after a little tugging and a few choice words from the Hermit. But then a grin spread over his face and he began to laugh. "You're alive. And the king has his scepter back. This is wonderful!"

Erec pressed the vial between their palms. "Not so great yet, until I finish this quest without getting killed."

"So far, so good." The Hermit tittered.

"Any advice?" Erec asked. "I have no idea how to do this."

The Hermit shrugged. "No clue." He grinned joyfully, as if this was the best possible answer.

381.

Why did he think the Hermit would help? "I guess I'll get started then." Erec pulled the vial away, and the Hermit's gaze grew cold and spacey.

Just to be safe, Erec held the vial tightly while he shoved the large rock off of the pit Melody had made. The open backpack lay underneath. Erec caught a glint of the sparkling colors in it, reminding him there were five Awen. Which should he attempt first? If the Trwyth Boar amplified the Awen's powers, things would get much worse here soon. He imagined the king and the Hermit in a rage like Jam had been in. Unfortunately, he had nothing to tie them down with. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to have them here now after all.

The king had made a bed on the field with his scepter and cuddled in it, sipping cocoa and scowling.

It made sense to connect the Awen of Beauty first. No matter how ugly it made him or his surroundings, at least that wouldn't make it harder to go on. He also decided to do the Awen of Knowledge last. That would be the hardest, and he probably would be unable to do anything after that.

He lifted the backpack from the pit with a stick and pulled out the glowing green dodecahedron. Even though he held the Trwyth Boar in his other hand, everything around him turned scary and awful. The cliff near his side was dark and menacing, ink or blood running down its side. The swirling mists didn't help, distorting everything further. He felt fine, but he gagged when he saw his own hands. They looked like bones and spiky worms with waving feelers jutting from green slime.

Erec lifted the chain off his neck. He held the Awen of Beauty next to the small, pig-shaped glass vial. How did these connect? He touched them together in several places, and nothing happened. Erec tried not to look at his hands, pretended they were someone else's. How much worse could he look when this thing hooked up?

382.

As he slid the Awen around the glass boar vial, a spark jumped suddenly out of the vial. He held the vial still, and a beam of green light burst from one of the pig's feet straight through the Awen of Beauty. The Awen then exploded into the light, becoming part of the green beam that shone brightly far out over the sea.

It had worked. Erec glanced nervously at his hands. He was surprised that they looked fine. No, more than fine. His hands looked spectacular. They had never looked a fraction this nice before. Could the rest of him look that good as well?

All that he could see around him through the fog was radiant with beauty. The king and Hermit looked spectacular as well--a bald Adonis and an aging teen heartthrob. He could not wait to attach the Awen of Sight next, so he could really see what was around him. He grabbed the glowing blue twelve-sided ball next.

But the instant he touched it, he was blinded. Everything turned black. Erec could hear the king grumbling in the darkness. Still, he could feel the Twrch Trwyth in his other hand, and he brought the two together before him. He moved them around each other, but the effort felt futile. How would he be able to tell when they were connected?

After more fumbling, a spark went off in the blackness. Erec held the Awen still, and soon a blinding beam of blue light shot out of another boar foot deep into the evening sky. The Awen of Sight exploded into the light and was gone. The mist on the island cleared. Erec could see again.

More than that, he could see everything. Fish swimming in the bottom of the sea, all the way from here. Distant treetops. If he focused, he could see right through the king to his beating heart and the little white nerves leaving his spinal cord, branching like trees. He squinted into the air and spied the edge of the Earth's atmosphere, right where outer space began.

383.

Everything he saw was spectacular. It was breathtaking. He couldn't stop looking--into the beating wings of a hawk, at the dance of the sand grains under the rhythm of the waves--until finally he remembered there was more to do. He was excited now. This was amazing. How could people have died doing this? Nothing seemed dangerous at all.

What next? One look at the king and Hermit grumbling told him to choose the Awen of Harmony. How could they feel bad in the midst of this beauty?

Before he fished the gleaming red dodecahedron out of the backpack, he braced himself. When he picked it up, with the Trwyth Boar in his other hand, it would make him explode in fury. Would he know enough to handle it?

Erec stopped. Know enough? Of course. He would have to do the Awen of Knowledge first. He started a chant in his head. Touch these things together. Move them around each other. Touch these things together. Move them around each other. Touch these things together. Move them around each other. Touch these things together. Move them around each other.

The moment he grasped the shiny yellow ball, he stared off in a daze. No thoughts or questions troubled his mind. Everything around him was so beautiful. He just wanted to look at it.

But he kept hearing a chant. Touch these things together. Move them around each other. Touch these things together. Move them around each other. Touch these things together. Move them around each other. Touch these things together. Move them around each other. What things? He had things in his hands he supposed. What things? He had things in his hands he supposed. Touch these things together. Move them around each other. Touch these things together. Move them around each other.

He put his hands together and moved them around each other. Soon, this touched off a spark. A beam of yellow light burst from the glass boar's snout, and the Awen of Knowledge blew up, fusing with the beam and forming a huge bright yellow spotlight on the cliff side.

Everything was clear. Perfectly clear. Knowledge filled him--everything he'd ever wanted to know.

384.

In that moment, Erec realized that if he had chosen the Awen of Harmony first, he would have died.

Erec marveled at the beauty of how everything had been put together. He understood now why he had been picked for this task, the choice he would have to make, and he wondered what he would end up deciding. Life itself seemed to spread out before him, unraveling all its mysteries. Any small problem he might have had, any concept he might not have understood, were child's play now.

He regarded the king and the Hermit, who were snarling at each other, with compassion, as if they were tiny children. The Hermit understood more, and even though both were sharper now that the Awen of Knowledge was connected, they were so unaware. He even felt pity for Baskania, his never ending search for complete power, and what it had done to him.

It was time to attach the Awen of Harmony, before King Piter and the Hermit started fighting.

He knew exactly what to do. This would be the hard one, of course. That was clear now. People in the past had either picked this one early, and killed themselves in anger, or picked it after the Awen of Knowledge and destroyed themselves and everyone around them when their perfect knowledge mixed with perfect hate.

This is why Erec had been chosen, he knew now. Only he could possibly protect himself from the red Awen. There was only one way to block its complete hate. And that was complete love. He had to bring his dragon eyes out.

It was easier than ever to turn his eyes around. Love surrounded him. The beauty of the earth. His father trying his best. Dragons, dragon eyes, Bethany. Love filled his every pore, pumped with every beat of his heart. He was ready.

Thick white nets of Substance hung around the Awen and the Twrch Trwyth. Of course this part of the island would have more 385.

Substance than the rest of Upper Earth. The Awen was collecting it, but only the Twrch Trwyth could secure it.

He grasped the sparkling red Awen of Harmony. Its power surged from its closeness to the Trwyth Boar. Waves of fierce hatred raged through him. Life was a sham, a rotten tragedy with pathetic saps playing the clueless actors. Everyone should die a merciful death, get out of this pigsty.

But he was ready. Love fought back. The Substance itself filled him with a love so deep it melted his anger. He saw the wonder in the tiniest insects, the grand cliffs before him. He could feel his dragon eyes fighting the rage that seared through him. Hope made him bring the red Awen close to the Twrch Trwyth.

But hatred began to take over. He was tired of being a pawn in the sick game the Fates were playing, pushing him across a painful, rotten board until he turned into a king. What then? Ruin his life with the scepter? Rule over the pathetic peons who were all selfish, mean, and power mad themselves? Why bother? Where was the good in it?

One look at the king made him want to hurl the red Awen straight into his face. What a mess he had made of Erec's whole life. What was it with him and these "mistakes"? He just sauntered along, destroying everyone else, and Erec had to deal with it? Not this time. Erec would put the red Awen in the king's hands, make him hold it, show him what it was like to deal with mistakes.

The hate was winning. Only a long look at the Substance, absorbing its beauty, kept his dragon eyes from turning back into his head. Love poured out again.

He could feel the two forces inside of him: the love battling the hate. Sharp emotions flared in him one way, then the other. He tried to focus on love, but then hate would start to conquer him again.

Love. Sometimes the word resonated, echoed deep inside. Other Sometimes the word resonated, echoed deep inside. Other 386 386times it felt like an empty promise. Erec did not know how long he sat there, fighting himself. Every time he began to bring the red Awen close to the Twrch Trwyth his anger would spiral.

Love. He focused on June, Bethany, the dragons. Finally, in a burst of hope, he turned his love inward. He loved his hatred. Loved himself for it. Loved his anger. Accepted it fully. Loved all the terrible things that his hate pointed out to him. Loved the pain, the stupidity, just because they were real and there, and it was all a part of him anyway. He could feel love surrounding the hate, covering it like a shield. He focused on June, Bethany, the dragons. Finally, in a burst of hope, he turned his love inward. He loved his hatred. Loved himself for it. Loved his anger. Accepted it fully. Loved all the terrible things that his hate pointed out to him. Loved the pain, the stupidity, just because they were real and there, and it was all a part of him anyway. He could feel love surrounding the hate, covering it like a shield.

And when he tried to bring the Awen to the Twrch Trwyth, this time he could do it. He slid it around until a beam of red light shot from the boar's tail, far into the woods. The red Awen exploded into the light.

At last Erec understood the meaning of the word "peace."