A/N: Chapter 4 is about a dark, bloody experiment done by the keepers of the lighthouse Waveguide, and how they resist and mock the questions of the Avatar. It also reveals their hidden loyalties, which I made up for this story. Warning! People who don't care for witchcraft, bloody rituals, or dirty, profane talk, should avoid this chapter. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Chapter 4

Waveguide

"Jacqueline, is the new razor ready for my next experiment?" asked Gregory, master of the lighthouse Waveguide.

"Uh, yes, dear," said Jacqueline, his wife, uncertainly, "I think it was… over here."

"What? Again you can't remember where you left the damn razor?" Gregory said impatiently, "By the Virtues, your memory is getting worse all the time!"

"Relax, Gregory," said Jacqueline, "It was… yes, here it is." She handed him a razor knife that had a very sharp and fresh blade.

"Good," Gregory said, taking it from her. "Now, is the dish ready to catch my blood?"

"Yes, I think so," said Jacqueline.

"You think so?" Gregory exclaimed, "Is your brain working at all today, woman?!"

"Of course it is," slurred his wife, "You know that I don't have as sharp a mind as you do. I need time to catch up with your quicker thinking, whether you like it or not."

"Well, then, you're lucky that these experiments do not have to be done fast," Gregory growled. He held the razor in one hand, and raised it to his other hand. Then he gave himself a small cut on the back of that hand, and allowed a few drops of blood to drip into the bowl. Then he raised the razor to his face and made a cut on his face, on the left cheek, and it dripped into the bowl. Gregory and Jacqueline chanted a rather sinister chant over the blood and dropped marked chicken bones into the bowl next, and swished them around in the bowl. They were foreseeing the future, or so they thought, and this day's news was not to their liking.

"I see the champion of the Virtues, the Avatar, coming back to Britannia to bring back Lord British from his prison in the center of the world," said Jacqueline.

"Well, that is not good," grumbled Gregory, "Lord Blackthorn has been on the throne for only a few years. The continuation of his rule must continue at all costs! If British returns from Doom, Blackthorn shall lose the throne, and the realm will go back to the old ways of life! Do you see anything else?"

Jacqueline looked intently. "Lord British's return will bring about the collapse of the Underworld, and the annihilation of the Shadowlords."

"Not good, not good!" Gregory growled, "Are we and Waveguide still intact after all of this happens?"

Suddenly Jacqueline screamed and threw the bowl away from her.

"What is the matter, woman?" demanded Gregory.

Jacqueline shuddered. "I have seen our deaths!" She turned to him. "The collapse of the Underworld will shake up and cripple much of Britannia for months, and Waveguide…"

"Yes?" asked Gregory.

"Waveguide shall go down into the ocean, and us with it!"

"This cannot be!" Gregory said, moved to fear for the first time in days. "What must be done?"

"The Avatar must be killed, before he can penetrate into the bottom of the dungeon Doom!" Jacqueline said, shaking.

Gregory forgot his anger for a moment and comforted his wife, who didn't seem to mind his bloody face and hand.

Waveguide was an inhospitable lighthouse on a small, grassy island just west of Verity Isle, the great island where Moonglow, the town of Honesty, and the Lycaeum, the castle of Truth, could be found. Some people thought it to be an odd place for a lighthouse, believing that it would serve better if closer to the northeast corner of Britannia where another great island and the Drylands met. Nevertheless, the keepers of Waveguide didn't care what other people thought of the location of their business, for they used it not so much out of care for sailing ships, like the keepers of Fogsbane and Stormcrow, or even Greyhaven, did, as a cover for their true work.

Gregory and Jacqueline were dark sorcerers and witches who were secretly in service to Lord Blackthorn, the man who usurped the throne of Britannia after Lord British vanished in the Underworld. They indulged in the dark arts, and made sure that Blackthorn could foresee what was going to happen in the future. The atmosphere at Waveguide and its island was always as dark and unpleasant as their works, and few people cared to visit it, which served Gregory and Jacqueline quite fine, for they were recluses and proud of it, wanting nothing to do with outsiders at all, unless they were emissaries of Blackthorn, or the Shadowlords. The first floor of their home was basically furnished much the same as Fogsbane, Stormcrow, and Greyhaven, but it was much uglier and dirtier, and a lot less tidy; the keepers didn't try very hard to clean up their messes.

One night, after it started to go dark outside, Gregory and Jacqueline were in the twin towers of Waveguide, manning and watching over the lighthouse's dual lights. They were rather content to do this each night, as they almost never got any visitors. Tonight, though, would be a little different.

To his irritation, Gregory noticed in the revolving light's beams that a ship was sailing up to the island and dropping anchor. He was even more pissed off when he saw who was aboard it. Climbing ashore were a man he recognized as none other than the Avatar, and five of his companions. They were walking straight for the lighthouse. Gregory swore and called to Jacqueline.

"British's 'champion' has decided to visit our private home," he said in disgust, "Be careful what you say if he questions you, wife."

"Of course, dear," Jacqueline replied.

"I mean it!" Gregory admonished her.

"I know!" she shot back.

"All right, then," said Gregory, "let's wait for the fool."

The demented couple clandestinely watched as the Avatar and his companions invited themselves into the building's ground floor. Gregory could imagine what they must think of the filthy state of their living room, kitchen, and bedroom. He was a little curious to know if the Avatar was wondering why he and his wife slept in separate beds, not that he was going to tell him. Finally, the trespassers made it to the towers.

The Avatar walked toward Gregory and stared in surprise and possibly some badly concealed disgust at his pale and badly scarred face and hands. "Excuse me," the Avatar asked, "but this is an interesting looking lighthouse. Would you mind if I asked you how you got all those scars?"

"Get lost!" Gregory said angrily and rudely, "We have nothing for you here! This is private property!"

"I know, I'm sorry," protested the Avatar, "I just wanted to know if-"

"I said, get lost, damn you!" Gregory shouted, "Get the hell out of here, or I will cut you with my newest razor!"

"I think, perhaps, thou should leave him alone, my friend," said one of his companions, "whatever his reasons may be for wanting to be left alone."

"Maybe you're right, Iolo," the Avatar replied. "I'm sorry we bothered you, sir."

"Just get out of my sight!" Gregory yelled.

They walked over to Jacqueline next, and asked her what was wrong with her husband. She absent-mindedly tried to think of clever answers for their questions, but kept on forgetting the most mundane things in her life, unnerving the Avatar and his companions. They were made even more uncomfortable when she mumbled something about liking the taste of mud with her supper, saying it was a good substitute for chocolate. The Avatar almost looked sick when she said that, and his companions looked a little queasy, too. Gregory chuckled quietly to himself. His wife certainly knew how to frighten away unwelcome visitors, perhaps even more than himself. At last, the Avatar decided to go, finally realizing that there was nothing for them there, and they walked down the stairs and back to their ship. "And do not tamper with any of our things!" Gregory yelled after them.

When they were wholly gone, Jacqueline asked her husband, "Did I do all right?"

"You did just fine, dear," Gregory said with a grim smile. "Now, what do you say that we send a message to Lord Blackthorn and warn him that the Avatar and his friends are loose in his Britannia?"

"I agree," Jacqueline responded. "Now, could you remind me how we do it?"

Gregory shook his head in disbelief. His wife would probably never change.

THE END