CHAPTER TWO
The dim onset of day had come and still they sped through the water, the Wychan crystal constant, Lyrica’s skillful steering weaving them in between the grouped buildings that floated or stood upon stilts in their path. Grivvin sat, staring at the floor, his hand upon his chin and lost in thought.
He had told her of the royal family’s apparent lies regarding his father’s death three years prior. He knew that his father would never have ended his own life. That would have been impossible. After his sisters had been sent away, his father had fallen into depression, that was true, but he would never have taken the coward’s way out. The possibility that he was still alive was very slim, she had told him, much to his dismay.
They had cast him out as well. But he had such power, how could they afford to lose him? He felt like an idiot, having visited his father's tomb on a near daily basis. He realized now why they had never let him see his father's body. Damn them.
How he wished his sisters were here now. They needed to know. He had thought it odd, that they had been sent away so suddenly. The King had ordered them to Aesen, on the opposite shore of Lake Embremere, many leagues away. An ancient Wychan tome had been found, one that would supposedly bring the power back to them and they were to retrieve it. On a great sailing ship they set off, under cover of the night, an armed guard as their escort.
Grivvin never had a chance to see them off and they still had yet to return. Evidently, a storm had run their ship aground and the repairs were costly and time-consuming. Still, they should have returned by now.
He needed to warn them of the Prince's betrayal. Surely the royals would lie to them, never informing them of Grivvin's exile. What elaborate fabrications would they create to keep them in line?
His thoughts were interrupted as the boat began to slow, Lyrica steering it over to an overhanging dock that led to a small cluster of buildings. With a thin cable, she tied the bow to one of the supports and started to climb up and on to the dock. Other travelers were passing by, moving along the waterways and there were many people milling about just across the channel in another neighborhood.
"Lyrica, you're just going to leave it here?" Grivvin asked.
"What, the boat? The crystal's dead. We've got to let it recharge and besides that cable is something else your father created while he lived among us. It's unbreakable and can only be reopened with this."
She produced a thin metal rod from an inner pocket of her jacket and waved it at him.
"Come on, not to worry. We'll get something to eat and rest a bit, then we'll be on our way." She gave him a smile and wink and pulled him along. They walked down a side street, past several merchants and a small residential section. Eventually, they came to a restaurant, tables and chairs arranged outside, makeshift umbrellas overhead. They had just seated themselves, when Grivvin noticed several groups of diners to his right rising quickly from their seats and walking off, panic upon their faces, their meals uneaten. When he turned back to his plate, he noticed that someone now stood on the opposite side of the table, across from him. He took another bite and looked up. The man, very tall and thick in the chest, wore clothing as white as snow that clung to his body like a second skin. He was hairless, both head and face, even lacking eyebrows, giving him a very odd appearance.
He was an altogether ugly thing, grey of skin, his nose very wide, eyes tiny and when he smiled down at Grivvin, an uneven cluster of teeth were revealed, differing shapes and sizes.
“Is there a reason you’re still sittin’?” he asked of Grivvin. Lyrica stood quickly, grabbing her pack and motioned for Grivvin to join her.
“We apologize. We were just leaving,” she said.
Another man, there were three, put his hand upon her shoulder and shoved her back into her seat.
“You still haven’t answered my question, lilly,” the man growled, placing his freckled and huge hands on the table. Grivvin noticed that each finger was connected by a thin, nearly translucent webbing of sorts.
“Let’s go, Grivvin. We have errands to run,” Lyrica said. “We’re sorry about the misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding?” Grivvin asked. “There’s no misunderstanding. We’re trying to eat and these brutes are interrupting us.” He motioned with the fork and knife in his hands toward the water. “I suggest you look for trouble elsewhere, gents.”
The man stood up straight, a shocked look upon his face which soon faded to anger. Once again, he placed his filthy hands upon the tabletop and lowered his face to within inches of Grivvin’s.
“You suggest?” he asked, spittle forming on his lower lip. His breath was most vile and Grivvin could not help but pull his face away. “Lilly, stand up. I want your woman to see it clearly when I gut you.” The man reached behind him with his left hand, apparently in search of a weapon.
With incredible speed, Grivvin drove the knife he held through the top of the man’s hand and into the tabletop beneath, fixing it there. The man howled in pain and those that accompanied him rushed toward Grivvin with blades drawn. Jumping to his feet, he backed away toward the outer wall of the restaurant. Behind him, he heard someone engage the lock on the entry door.
He curled his fingers into fists and brought them both up in front of his face, while shifting his stance to the side, offering his attackers the smallest target possible. The first of the men did not hesitate, charging straight at him with his knife, lunging for Grivvin’s throat. His body thrown off-balance, he was an easy foe to dispense of as Grivvin side-stepped his attack while bringing the bony ridge of his forearm across his windpipe. The strike took the man off of his feet, dropping him straight to the ground, grabbing at his throat and gasping for air.
The second attacker, seeing this, was far more cautious as he approached, waving his two blades menacingly in front of him. He swung at Grivvin wildly with the first, the metal’s edge whistling just in front of his nose as he pulled away. Grivvin threw a solid punch into the man’s kidney as his body spun. He grunted in pain, gathered himself and faced Grivvin again.
“I’ll let you walk out of here unharmed, if you leave us be,” Grivvin explained, never dropping his guard.
Their leader, his hand still impaled upon the tabletop, cursed in pain. “Kill the bastard! What are you waiting for?” he screamed just before Lyrica smashed a wooden serving tray over his head, rendering him unconscious.
Grivvin’s opponent, flashing a near-toothless smile, leapt at him again with both arms raised overhead. He simply ducked under the attack and using the man’s own momentum, threw him bodily through one of the windows of the restaurant. When all had settled, the man did not move.
The door creaked open, a white-haired woman peering out with a scowl upon her wrinkled face.
“What have you done?” she asked. “The Cuda are going to be all over us now because of you. We let them have their way and they leave us alone.”
“Alone? Hardly,” said Grivvin as he strode toward Lyrica. “They seem like thieves and ruffians to me. You just let them walk in and take what they want?”
Lyrica looked about with a frown.
“She’s right. By nightfall, this place will be crawling with them. No one ever stands up to them. They’ll want blood. By the way, I didn’t think the Wychan believed in violence.”
“We do avoid it at all costs, but we do not allow others to do us harm without defending ourselves. Physical combat is part of our training. I had no others to train with, no Wychan, so I sparred with the King’s soldiers.”
“I’d say you trained well,” she said with a grin. “I’m impressed.”
Grivvin turned to the old woman.
“Look, I apologize for the damage that I’ve done. You cannot allow these men to rule over you in this way. You have to stand up for yourselves.”
“We tried that, fool, and we lost most of our husbands and sons. We don’t argue anymore
. They take what they want and we go on living,” the woman explained. “No, they’ll want more than free food and ale this time. This time, they’ll want coin. They’ll take it all.”
Grivvin reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of the nacreous coins and held them out to her.
“Take these. Pay them off. Is it enough?” he asked.
Her eyes grew wide as she picked several from his outstretched palm.
“Enough? Gods, son. Yes, it’s enough.”
Lyrica put a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, we need to go. Now.”
Together they broke into a sprint, racing toward the dock. Quickly, they were once again seated in the boat and Lyrica had them underway, the crystal once again thrusting them through the water.
“Now we have to take the long way around. There are places that we must avoid at all costs. They’ll be searching for us,” she said, her hair whipping in the wind. The waves had once again grown very strong, the storm on the outside evidently picking up again.
“Are their boats as fast as this?” Grivvin asked.
She threw him a serious look.
“The Cuda don’t need boats.”
“What? What do you mean?” he asked.
“You didn’t notice? The Cuda are part fish. They’ll leap right out of the water and into the boat after us.”
“Are you saying that they can swim this fast?” Grivvin asked with a startled expression.
Lyrica simply nodded.
"Our only chance of avoiding them is to cut through Pox Fen. They can't go there."
"Why not?"
"It's deserted, had to be. Actually, most of those that once lived there are dead. It was once one of the dumping areas for the Over, so the people thrived, existing on the garbage from above. One day, several barrels came down and when they were opened, the poison inside was released into the water. Over the next few weeks, people started to die. Now, the place is empty, ruined."
"Do you think it was on purpose?" Grivvin asked. "Do you think those above knew that they were going to kill people like that?"
"Of course they did. Those of Embremere knew exactly what they were doing. They don't care. Thousands of people wasted away in no time. I had cousins that lived there, Grivvin. Now, dead."
"I would argue, but after discovering their lies and being thrown from the city, I cannot. I agree. I believe that they killed your people on purpose. I am sorry that I never thought much about what happened here in the Under, the people, the families, trying to survive in this trap. Until now, I've never wanted or needed for anything."
Lyrica suddenly glanced to the side, standing slightly.
"Damn!" she shouted. "They've found us! Hold on!"
Grivvin followed her stare and saw glowing lights, in pairs, below the water, the eyes of the Cuda. The boat lurched forward, Lyrica pulling more power from the crystal. They were traveling through narrow waterways and navigating them now became treacherous.
"Take this!" she screamed and tossed one of her swords overhand to him. As the blade was arcing through the air, he caught a silvery shape as it flashed in his peripheral vision, shooting out of the water in his direction. He knew he had to act fast. As soon as the sword was in his hand, he spun, leaning as far back as possible to avoid his descending attacker. He felt the blade rip into the Cuda's skin, the cool spray of blood hitting his face and the weight of the body rock their boat as it landed.
At the stern, another launched itself into the air, aiming for Lyrica. Grivvin ran awkwardly toward her, the craft pitching to either side as his feet hit the bottom.
"Move!" he shouted and she ducked just in time as the Cuda flew past her and slammed headlong into his chest, throwing him down. The creature rose up, one clawed hand in the air, screaming. It was naked and Grivvin saw the slits of six gills along its ribcage, twitching in response to the open air. As it came for his throat, he shoved the tip of the sword into its belly and drove it up, piercing the heart. It fell to the side as he jumped to his feet.
Two of the Cuda had managed to climb on board and were moving in on Lyrica, who stood poised with short sword and knife. She slowly backed toward Grivvin as they hissed and growled at her. The boat had begun to slow with her hand no longer on the rudder and he could see more Cuda moving in from below the surface of the lake, their eyes like twin glowing beacons streaking through the water.
"I need to get back to the rudder, Grivvin." she said never taking her eyes off of the Cuda. "This channel doesn't run straight forever."
"Get behind me," he said as he stepped forward. The Cuda hissed and foamed at the mouth. These seemed to be of a different variety than those he had faced at the restaurant. They never spoke, were more animalistic than their brethren. He extended his blade out in front of him and with the other hand, ran his fingers delicately along the blunt edge of the metal.
"Xhiego..." he said in a low tone and the sword began to give off a faint light. The Cuda stopped as they noticed the glowing tip swaying before them. Once again, Grivvin repeated the word while waving the sword. The creatures were suddenly transfixed by the ghostly movement of the blade, their heads following it from left to right, as Grivvin continued the chant.
"Vin Xhiego!" he shouted and the Cuda stopped in confusion. They brought their webbed hands to their faces and touched their eyes. Grivvin ran toward them, slamming into them with his shoulder, sending them overboard. Lyrica jumped to the stern and grabbed the rudder just as they neared a turn in the channel. She pulled it hard to starboard, throwing Grivvin to the floor, as she narrowly missed the footings of a pier. Just then, the boat slowed and Lyrica looked down to the crystal, its light now faded and dim.
"No. We're almost there," she said, glancing behind her. As she feared, there were dozens of Cuda eyes moving toward them below the waves. Grivvin joined her and placed his hand on the handle of the rudder.
"Let me try," he said, closing his eyes in concentration. He whispered several phrases repeatedly, in a language that she could not understand and immediately the crystal was once again filled with an internal light. The boat felt as if a strong wind had shoved them forward.
They came to a crossing with channels that led to the left and right.
"Take the left!" Lyrica shouted and Grivvin pulled hard on the rudder, sending them in the direction she had indicated. She took a quick glance at him and noticed the beads of sweat that had appeared on his forehead, the intense look in his eyes.
"Lyrica, how much longer?" he asked, the veins protruding along his temples and neck.
"Nearly there, Grivvin. Don't let up now."
He gritted his teeth, struggling to retain command over the spell, but his strength was fading. He had transferred energy in this way before, but never for this duration. He began to feel weak and light-headed.
"Lyrica..." he moaned and his legs gave out, his body collapsing to the floor of the boat. Everything went black as he lost consciousness.
"We made it!" was the last thing he heard as the darkness took him.
The sound of muffled drums reached his ears and he stirred. For a moment, he began to drift back to sleep, but the drums became more insistent, coaxing him from the pleasant comfort of dreams. The drums became a melody, somewhat clearer with defined patterns, raising and lowering in pitch. He shook his head, his eyes still closed, as the steady sound became a voice, Lyrica's voice.
"Grivvin? Please don't be dead," she begged, lightly slapping his cheek. He opened his eyes, blinking repeatedly and saw her face above his. She had tears in her eyes, but still she smiled.
He smiled back at her and tried to sit up, but his head still spun.
"I thought you were dead. You had no pulse, your heart had stopped."
He finally managed to right himself, glancing around, his eyes blurry. Everything seemed to have a greenish hue, the water, the buildings, even the underside of Embremere's pl
atform high overhead.
"It's a Wychan defense mechanism. If our energies are depleted so far in battle that we black out, it appears as though we are dead. I suppose the theory is that if the enemy thinks you are dead, they will leave you be long enough for your power to regenerate."
Lyrica frowned at him.
"How am I supposed to know if you are truly dead?" she asked.
He thought for a moment, chewing on his lip.
"You won't," Grivvin said with a shrug.
"Guess I just wait around until you start to rot, eh?" she asked, obviously agitated.
"Yes, the smell should give it away."
She slapped his arm with a shake of her head.
"Well, welcome to Pox Fen, Grivvin. Whatever you do, do not touch the water."
By now, his vision had cleared and he scanned the area around them. The surface of the green water, as far as he could see, bubbled and frothed like a kettle set to boil. The air was pungent with a slight sulfurous odor that burnt the nostrils and throat. Many of the buildings had collapsed and their decaying frames lie half-submerged, sitting in the water at odd angles. At the water line and creeping up the nearby structures was a lichen of sorts, attached like barnacles to the wooden and metal ruins.
"We have a problem, Grivvin. My plan was to hide out here for a short time and then be on our way, but now the Cuda know that we are here. We cannot escape without their knowledge. There's no way out."
"And our boat is dead, correct?" he asked.
"For now, yes," she answered, running her hands through her pink hair.
"Well, until the crystal has recharged, we have no choice but to paddle. Grab the oars, maybe we can find a place to disembark."
"Right. We can't stay this close to the boundary. The Cuda might become brave and risk the Pox Fen to get at us," she agreed. Together, they set the oars into their metal eyehooks and clamped them down.
"Go very slowly, Grivvin. No splashing. The water in here is deadly, even a drop."
"I can tell by the way it has eaten the homes. It's like the wood is dissolving," Grivvin said.
"Imagine what it would do to your flesh," Lyrica responded.
They moved the boat gently forward and headed into the remains of the vast village that was once Pox Fen. Many of the structures still had painted signs designating the business name and services provided. It made him sad to think that all of these people were most likely dead. In most instances, the skeletons of the buildings still stood tall, the walls and floors having long since decomposed, giving the place the appearance of a dead forest. As they passed, they could peer inside each of the structures, many still retaining the furniture and personal items of the former residents. It was a very eerie feeling, sliding quietly through what was essentially a massive floating cemetery.
Just then, Grivvin thought he saw movement to his side and his eyes shot up to the roof of one of the few buildings that still seemed intact. Lyrica noticed his change in posture and stopped rowing.
"What is it?"
"I thought I saw something, there on the rooftop," he explained, pointing to the spot above them.
"Impossible. Nothing lives in here," she said, wrapping her hands around the oars again. The dark silhouette of a head popped up and disappeared as quickly.
"There! I saw it! Lyrica, there is something on that roof. This place is not as empty as you think it is."
She stopped again, studying the roofline above intently and raised her eyebrows as she, too, saw something appear and then vanish from sight.
"How..? How could something survive in this place? She pulled on the oars and began to move their craft closer to the leaning front of the building.
"What are you doing?" Grivvin asked.
"I have to see what that thing is," she answered, continually studying the wooden frame that jutted from the water. "Help me. Move us down just a little. I think we can get on the platform there. Just don't touch anything green."
Grivvin shook his head. Now he wished he had never said anything about what he saw. He may have just cost them their lives. The boat smacked against the house sideways and Lyrica jumped to her feet, cable in hand. She threw it around one of the wooden poles that still stood and clasped it, securing the boat in place. With one foot on the edge of their craft, she leapt as far as possible, landing just inside of the frame of the outer wall and avoiding the poisonous lichen.
She turned to Grivvin, her arms outstretched.
"Come on," she called out.
He followed suit and landed safely next to her.
"Away from the water, it seems safe enough. That green stuff doesn't reach very far past the water's edge."
Much of the ceiling above had fallen long ago and they saw movement through the holes overhead as if several forms sought out a hiding place. Lyrica drew one of her swords and threw another to Grivvin, motioning toward the staircase that still stood against the opposite wall. As they ran for it, they narrowly escaped falling through a gaping hole in the floating platform on which they stood. They reached the stairs and bounded up, coming out onto the rooftop. From this vantage point, they could see that many of buildings were connected, their roofs still strong. Directly in front of them, several small and thin figures ran to escape, jumping from roof to roof.
Lyrica immediately set off after them, with Grivvin in tow. Strangely, those that they pursued had stopped running and stood still, three buildings away. Lyrica slowed as she approached, her blade raised in defense.
"I can't believe they've survived. Look, there are six of them!" she whispered.
In moments, they had reached the roof upon which the six people, now obviously children, stood. They were horribly thin and their bushy hair was long and hung in their faces, mostly concealing their eyes. They had arranged themselves in a half-circle around the bundled form of an apparently dead body. At each step that Lyrica took, the children drew closer together until they clung to one another in obvious fear. She lowered her weapon.
"It's all right. We won't hurt you," she said softly. "Where are your parents? You have parents, don't you?"
The children separated, each extending a filthy arm, pointing to the supine figure lying on the roof.
"I'm so sorry. This is your...father?" she asked and received nods from the strangely silent children. Lyrica moved closer, looking at the shape of the wrapped body at her feet. From the weathering of its shroud, it had obviously been in this position for years.
"Gods. How have you survived, little ones?"
They looked up at her with their large eyes and she could only hear a slight grunting sound from their throats.
"I don't think they can speak, Lyrica," Grivvin said with a sad tone.
Upon the dead man's stomach, there sat a leather case, fastened at one side with a metal clasp. Lyrica knelt down next to their father's body and turned to them.
"May I?" she asked and they nodded their assent. She carefully lifted the case and opened it, tipping it to the side. Several thin books slid out and into her hand. She opened the first, studying the writing there and realized that these must be the journals of their father. As she read, the history of these strange children slowly came to light. Their mother had been pregnant when the thing fell from the platform above and poisoned Pox Fen, very pregnant. In her condition, it was impossible to move her, so she and her husband remained behind. They had decided to leave the place after she had given birth and was out of any immediate danger.
That which turned the surrounding area green also had an unfortunate effect on the woman and in a few short weeks, the child inside of her had transformed, mutated into six children. It was too much for her body to handle and she died while delivering the children. The father, grief-stricken, no longer had the will to live and vowed to never leave her side, though she had passed. Somehow, he survived, raising their strange and inhuman offspring until their seventh year, when the poison took him as well. He had evidently taught them well, for they now appeared to be
young adolescents.
"How do they live here?" Grivvin asked and each of the six cocked their heads to the side, pondering his question. "There is nothing to eat, the water's poisoned. How could they survive for so long?"
One of the children grunted and pulled at Grivvin's sleeve, motioning for them to follow. He looked at Lyrica with a shrug and together they traced the path of the children as they began hopping from rooftop to rooftop. They traveled in this manner for several hours, wondering if there would ever be an end to the journey, when the six pulled up short. Before them was a makeshift staircase pieced together from gathered parts of the buildings surrounding them. It stretched from the rooftop upon which they stood and connected to one of Embremere's thick supporting beams far across the bubbling water.
"That does not look safe," Lyrica announced, her brows coming together with concern. One by one, the children made their way onto the rickety contraption, the entire structure swaying as they stepped on to it.
“They built this to reach the Over. They sneak in and steal what they can,” Grivvin said as he watched their wiry frames scurry up the ladder. “We can get out of Pox Fen in this way!”
“If we’re seen, we’re dead,” Lyrica said as she carefully climbed onto the structure. “An Underdweller and an outcast Wychan shouldn’t be too easy to pick out. This is one of those moments where having bright pink hair does not work to my advantage.”
“Can they help us find our way to Mucker? Is there a way back down into the Under close to his home?” asked Grivvin, his knuckles white as he gripped the swaying ladder. Up ahead, one of the children turned, a smile upon his face and nodded excitedly.
“I suppose that’s a ‘yes’,” said Lyrica.
They eventually made it across the shaky apparatus to the huge alder beam, the children quickly climbing it and disappearing through the platform above. Grivvin could see that the razor-sharp metal fencing had been removed at some point, allowing them access to Embremere. There was just enough space for a person to squeeze their body through without being cut to pieces.
Scrap pieces of wood had been nailed to the surface of the beam, creating rungs, enabling them to climb the sheer face. In moments, they emerged in a dark space, obviously inside of a building, sheltered from the storm outside. As their vision adjusted, they could make out stacks of crates and barrels, sacks and bottles. The children had given themselves a route straight to a storeroom, full of every kind of food and drink that they would ever need.
“Unbelievable,” Lyrica whispered. “With a back door to this place, you would never go hungry.”
“These crates are marked with the seal of the royal family. These goods are meant specifically for the castle.” Grivvin said.
Lyrica chuckled. "They're stealing straight from the King," she said, lifting the lid from a crate and peering inside. She let out a low whistle.
"Fresh fruit! This stuff is hard to come by," she added and pulled an orange from the container.
One of the children pointed above their heads to the far stone wall. The crates were stored in tall racks and where they were fastened to the wall, there was a small rectangular window. The children began to excitedly climb for it.
"That must be the way out," Grivvin whispered and began to follow them. The climb was much easier than the previous, with no razor-like barrier, no dizzying heights. Soon, they had passed through the opening and into a dark crawlspace. It took some effort to keep up with the children, for they moved more like animals than human beings. In short time, they came to a second window with a wooden grate across it that looked down upon an avenue in the open air of the city. One of the children removed the grate and stuck his head out, glancing left and right. When satisfied that the avenue was empty, he jumped down to the street and the others followed.
The wooden planking was slick when they landed, wet from the constant deluge of rain and Grivvin nearly lost his footing. Here there were no street lamps, all was very dark, allowing them to conceal themselves in the shadows. The youngsters ran ahead of them, leading the way, motioning when the passage was clear. It was obvious that they had visited the Over many times in the past for supplies and knew their way around. Each alley or street that they took was dark, the lamps having been broken or removed at some point. They could barely make out their stooped frames moving in the distance and Grivvin feared losing sight of them as he quickened his pace.
He suddenly heard voices behind him, several figures having stepped out from a nearby alleyway and he glanced fearfully at Lyrica who strode along beside him. From the sound of it, there were three of them, all men and their speech was loud and slurred, evidently having spent the night in a tavern. Grivvin could swear that he had heard their voices before and he risked a glance over his shoulder.
They were all wearing the uniforms of the palace guards, the white shape of the Sailfish emblazoned on the chest and he knew each of them. They were the same group that had cast him out at the Prince’s order. How could he be so unlucky? What were the chances that on this very night, Thax would be wandering the same streets?
“Wait!” He heard him call out from the rear. “It can’t be. Grivvin? Is that you, Wychan?”
Grivvin ignored him and tried to move faster after the children.
“It’s not possible,” Thax mumbled. “You there, turn around!”
He then addressed Lyrica.
“And you! You’re definitely not from around here. Both of you stop, on order of the King!”
Grivvin came to a halt and Lyrica joined him as he turned to face the guards.
“It is you! How in- never mind. You know the sentence for defiling Embremere after being banished, don’t you?”
Grivvin nodded as Thax pulled his heavy broadsword from his belt.
“I’m going to enjoy this, Wychan. Never did like you much. You and your magic spells that never quite worked. No one will miss your useless hide, will they?”
As he stepped within striking range, Grivvin saw the blur of one of the six children move between he and Lyrica, like a black shadow. The child stopped in front of Thax as he swung and threw one hand in the air in front of him, a harsh scream coming from him. Thax stopped moving, frozen in place along with the other two that accompanied him. The child turned back, grabbing Grivvin and Lyrica by the arms, pulling them away and into the darkness again. Grivvin took one look back, seeing his attackers as still as statues in the middle of the alleyway.
Embremere Page 2