ã€ŠThe Onyx Throne - Book Oneã€‹


 Prologue

    ¡°Are you ready, Lora?¡±

    Allora De Anen looked up from the swirling mass of arcane script that filled the circle on the floor of the laboratory. Silvery-white geometric designs had been painstakingly drawn into the polished black marble floor over the course of several hours with imbued ink by the cambion across from her. The metal flakes of gold and silver that had been mixed in glinted in the soft glow of the mage lights that were affixed to the wall around the room. It was difficult to pull her eyes away from it.

    The spell, even though not yet empowered with Revos¡¯s own mana, was a sight to behold. Allora had never seen its like before and it was far beyond her abilities to create on her own. It was so powerful that it had already started to pull ambient mana from the space around them and she could see a slight rippling along the edges as the magical energies were drawn in. She thought she could detect an eagerness about it as if it wanted to be empowered. It was said that the most potent spells could sometimes take on a life of their own, and she supposed that it was possible since mana was the magic of life itself, but she didn¡¯t concern herself with those things. She was no theorist.

    Pulling her eyes from the spell forms on the floor she met Revos''s black-slitted golden eyes, a snake''s eyes, and nodded. He nodded in return and the light glinted off the black horns curling elegantly around the sides of his head. Lora felt her chest tighten. A single bead of sweat slid down her spine. It was just the heat, she told herself. Iletish was a desert, after all, and they were only a few risings from High Sun. Even underground the heat could be oppressive. Just then she missed the cool forests of Awenor. The lush rolling fields and misty glades. None of which could be found in Revos¡¯s adopted home. The heat didn''t bother him. He had demon blood in his veins.

    But no, she wasn''t ready. She wanted to run, to break from this place and flee screaming into the desert wastes beyond Revos''s cozy if austere walls. This was too much for her. Too much for any one person. What was she thinking? She''d been on the run for almost two years. She could hardly think anymore from the constant exhaustion and fear. I am not trained for this! I have not even finished my training! How could anyone expect me to¡ª.

    She shoved the thoughts aside. If not her, then who? She was the last. The gods had given her this task and it was for her to complete. She tried to calm her breathing and hold fast to that simple truth. It helped. A little. From deep in her memory, almost as if from another life, a familiar voice called out. ¡°Protect the monarch!¡± She shuddered at the sudden image of a ruler bleeding in her arms and a small onyx stone emerging from his chest as his life left his body.

    ¡°Keep your gemstones close at hand,¡± Revos said. ¡°There is little magic in that world, it is a place of technology and great machines. It will take you hours¡ªdays even¡ªto replenish your mana if you are careless. Then you would be defenseless.¡±

    Allora glanced down at the sword and dagger at her waist, the hilts just barely visible in the loose-flowing clothes. Revos followed her gaze to the weapons.

    ¡°Well,¡± he corrected, his smirking lips curling to reveal shockingly white fangs against coppery red skin. ¡°Almost defenseless.¡±

    The clothes were the best she could manage off of Revos''s sketches and descriptions from his attempts to scry the people of that other world. The tailors in the marketplace had been confused at the strange designs but had agreed to her requests without protest. Allora hoped she wouldn''t stand out too much. She missed her armor.

    ¡°The locator will work with the amulet but the storage capacity of each linked gem will only give you a half dozen uses at best, so don''t waste them!¡± he cautioned. ¡°They won''t recharge like you will. You can power it yourself but since we don¡¯t know how long it will take your mana to replenish there, it will be risky.¡±

    ¡°We have gone over this already,¡± Allora reminded him.

    He pressed on as if she hadn''t spoken.

    ¡°And when you get him, her, whoever, make sure you smash the sapphire into the transducer when it''s placed at the center of the circle. You can''t power this spell yourself. You don''t have the mana capacity for it, even if you could cast it. If you don''t use the transducer the spell won''t work and you''ll be stuck there. And you both need to be in the circle. You''ve got the diagrams to draw it yourself. I¡¯ve schooled you enough on the shapes and designs. With magic this powerful you will have little margin for error. Do it wrong and not getting back will be the least of your worries. Place the transducer in the center and stand in your spots. Only once you''re both there do you smash it!¡±

    She gave him a weary smile. ¡°I kno¡ª¡±

    ¡°Also, there is the comprehend language spell.¡± he continued. ¡°I''ve given you enough star rubies that you should be fine. The spell doesn''t require much mana. However, anytime you need to talk to someone or find out where you are or where you need to go, you''ll have to rely on it, so you''ll need to watch the levels carefully. Don''t waste time when you''re out!¡±

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Revos began pacing, ticking things off on his fingers. ¡°Food shouldn''t be a problem for you. The little I was able to gather from the scry suggests they''re humans so their biology should match well enough with yours. Whatever they eat, you should be able to eat. Remember not to put your hair up as there are no elves on their world and it will hide your ears.¡±

    Allora listened to him as his pacing continued. She realized then that he was nervous for her. Perhaps even scared. She walked around to his side of the circle and reached up, placing a hand on his shoulder. This snapped him from whatever mental lists he was reviewing in his head. She looked up into his golden eyes ¨C a bit of a challenge as he was almost two meters tall.

    ¡°Revos,¡± she said, her voice calm despite the trembling in her chest. ¡°I will be okay. The gods would not have put me on this path if I could not see it through.¡±

    Actually, she didn¡¯t feel okay. She felt like she wanted to vomit. But there was nothing for it.

    Revos snorted.

    ¡°You''d be surprised how many people died with those words on their lips.¡±

    ¡°Even so,¡± Allora countered. ¡°I must have faith. They led me here, did they not? And none of this would have been possible without you.¡±

    He turned to face her fully and placed his powerful hands on her waist, his long fingers almost meeting at her spine.

    ¡°Don''t go, Lora. Stay here, with me! Leave Awenor to its fate. I''ve grown rather fond of you these last several days. You''ll be safe here and Milandris will think you dead. Iletish isn''t so bad, once you get used to the heat. And the sand. And the clorvols. Oh, and the¡ª¡±

    ¡°They are my people, Revos,¡± she interrupted. ¡°They are suffering and it is my duty. I must see a new ruler on the throne. It is the only way to renew the bond and protect them and the land. You know Milandris seeks to kill Awen. You know what it means to kill an elemental. Would you see what happened to Iletish happen to Awenor?¡±

    Revos looked away from her, incomprehension and frustration plain on his angular face. He was not one for duty and honor. He was a decent enough sort but ultimately served only himself. He was a lecherous old goat, just as Gilriel had told her he was, but still, he was sweet in his way. Even so, someone without loyalty could not understand someone like her, who served a higher purpose. She couldn''t stay with him, even if she''d wanted to.

    ¡°You knights,¡± he said, at last, letting out a frustrated sigh. ¡°Do they insert that stick up your ass on the first day or is it part of the graduation ceremony? As stiff and unyielding as a priest of Stolar at high sun.¡±

    He leaned down, kissing her forehead, then gently on her lips. His lips were hot. Almost too hot.

    ¡°Are you sure you won¡¯t consider my offer? Consider me?¡± he asked, his voice thick with promise.

    Almost, she did. The years of running and fighting for her very life had left her exhausted. Allora was tired of being alone, of going to sleep afraid every night. Tired of the nightmares where her hands were covered in blood. Most of all she was tired of having the weight of an entire kingdom on her shoulders. It was too much for any one person. But as she had told herself a thousand times before since the coup, if not her then who?

    She inhaled and let it out slowly.

    ¡°I cannot,¡± she replied, her voice heavy with the burden she carried.

    ¡°Let''s be about it then, my brave knight.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Allora said, giving herself a mental shake and trying to focus on the task at hand. ¡°Let''s.¡±

    She hoped her voice sounded more confident than she felt.

    Releasing her, Revos walked back to the head of the circle and knelt where he began breathing deeply, focusing himself. Once more she noticed how spotless the smooth marble floor was. Allora could not find a single speck of sand.

    ¡°Hornier than a sailor with a nose full of gloam dust he might be but Gilriel was right,¡± Allora thought to herself. ¡°Revos knew his spell work.¡±

    Not needing to be prompted on her part, Allora checked again that her weapons, bag, and pouches were secured to her person. Finding everything in order, she stepped gingerly into the center of the circle, careful not to scuff any of the lines.

    ¡°I hope,¡± Revos began, his voice deep and calm as the magic for the spell gathered, ¡°that the people of Awenor know what you do for them. If there were any justice you would be their ruler and magic bond be damned.¡±

    Allora smiled. It was high praise coming from one who took very little seriously.

    ¡°I am a knight, Revos. It is my duty to serve them. I do not do it for fame or glory. I do it because it must be done.¡±

    How quickly her father''s words came to her lips. She hadn''t understood them when she was young, but at that moment, she felt the truth of them. You were right, father. I wish you were alive so that I could tell you that.

    Her skin prickled as the magical energies began to coalesce around her. ¡°Pity,¡± was all he said in reply. A sad smile played about his full lips. ¡°Good luck, Allora De Annen, last of your line.¡±

    A hum had begun in her ears and her insides began to quiver. She saw his lips moving but could no longer hear what he said. With a platinum-lined sevith on each hand, he brought his palms down to the lines drawn so carefully this afternoon, the culmination of a week of research, study, and preparation. He brought the glowing pink sapphires locked into each palm segment to the contact points of the circle that would allow him to channel his own mana through the gemstones and into the weaving, powering the spell and sending her to another planet in another universe.

    Closing her eyes, she felt the magic build to a crescendo, the energy racing along her skin, almost burning in its intensity. She could see her long black hair begin to float up in a halo about her head, arcane energy sparking out of the tips. The magic continued to build and, right as she thought it would tear her apart, the whole world went white.

 Part 1, Chapter 1

    Chapter 1

    Mitchell¡¯s phone buzzed and he tapped to answer, bringing the phone to his ear.

    ¡°Hey, you parking?¡±

    Andy¡¯s deep, rumbling voice came through the phone, his Chicago accent still thick even after five years in Phoenix.

    ¡°Unfortunately, no. Jessica¡¯s suddenly not feeling well. I think the sushi didn¡¯t agree with her.¡±

    In the background, a female voice came through the phone¡¯s speaker.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Mitchell!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re rushing back home,¡± Andy continued. ¡°She¡¯s having some pretty severe intestinal distress. But look, watch it without us. We¡¯ll pay you back. They¡¯re supposed to be playing Barbarella next week and it¡¯s on us, okay?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. Tell Jess I hope she feels better. And if you happen to let slip that I warned her about eating sushi in a land-locked state, I wouldn¡¯t be upset.¡±

    Andy chuckled.

    ¡°Maybe when she feels better. I already tried telling her that black guys from the South Side had no business eating sushi anyway, but she¡¯s trying to expand my horizons. Sorry again, dude.¡±

    Mitchell heard a groan from Jess in the passenger seat.

    ¡°Five more minutes, babe.¡± Then back to Mitchell. ¡°Got to go. Need to focus on the road. Enjoy the movie.¡±

    ¡°No worries. Good luck.¡±

    The call ended and Mitchell stared at his phone for a second.

    ¡°Well shit,¡± he thought to himself.

    It sucked about Jessica but what could you do? Now he had three tickets and no one to watch the movie with. He looked at the crowd of people heading into Filmbar and wondered if he should be the guy that watched a movie alone. It was a surprisingly cool night for Phoenix in June and it seemed a shame to waste it. He thought about calling Madison but nixed the idea almost immediately. They weren¡¯t scheduled for their first date until next Wednesday and this was very short notice. Springing an invitation on her like that might send out some creep vibes so he decided it was best to leave her alone. Before he could decide whether to watch the movie or go home a voice spoke up behind him.

    ¡°I am thinking we have same problem.¡±

    Mitchell turned and saw a woman standing behind him. An absolutely stunning woman. Mitchell¡¯s tongue actually went heavy in his mouth at the sight of her.

    What he noticed first was her height, almost as tall as his six-foot-one frame. Her black hair was long and cascaded in waves down her shoulders. She was wearing a braided leather headband that had several small gemstones woven into it. Her eyes were slanted but they didn¡¯t resemble the eyes of Asian people he¡¯d met before. She had the epicanthic eye fold but her eyes were angled slightly upwards, and there was a purple tint to them. They looked almost alien but he found he was captivated by them. He thought the color must come from colored contacts but they didn¡¯t have that flat glassy look. Maybe it was the light from the marquee. Her skin was pale and she had startlingly high cheekbones and a narrow jawline framing a heart-shaped mouth with plump dark-red lips. He thought she looked to be in her early twenties but something about her face gave her a presence, an intensity, that few people that age would have.

    She was wearing a light tan trench coat, a plain white blouse that buttoned up the front, a pair of faded jeans, and simple white canvas shoes. She was thin but her shoulders were wide and he could see her powerful trapezius muscles just beneath the collar of her shirt. He couldn¡¯t see her arms but if her shoulders were that well developed, she must work out.

    Mitchell stammered as his brain re-engaged and he tried not to look like an idiot.

    ¡°The, uh¡­ The same problem?¡±

    She gave him a shy smile.

    ¡°My friend suddenly is saying she is not coming and she is having my¡­pass.¡±

    Her accent was strange and lilting. He wanted to say it was Russian or from some Baltic state but he couldn¡¯t be sure. The light reflected off the gemstones in her headband suddenly and it flashed, causing him to blink.

    ¡°Maybe we can be going together?¡± she said hopefully.

    Mitchell had the sudden urge to do whatever she suggested. He couldn¡¯t figure out why but he knew he definitely wanted to see Godzilla with this beautiful woman.

    ¡°Yeah! Yeah, sure. I¡¯ve got extra tickets. So it¡¯s no problem. Let¡¯s go! I¡¯m Mitchell, by the way. What¡¯s your name?

    The strange woman gave him a dazzling smile and Mitchell was suddenly so happy he felt like doing a dance right there on the sidewalk.

    ¡°I am Allora.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a great name.¡± He meant it. Her name sounded like music. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

    ¡°It¡¯s great to meet you Allora. After you.¡± He indicated the double doors and she ducked her head in a slight bow and walked towards the door, pausing to let a few people in ahead of her.

    She walked in just in front of him and then stopped inside the door. He stepped around her and walked toward the bar.

    ¡°Do you want anything to drink? Some wine or beer, anything? They have some food too.¡± When there was no answer he turned to see her still standing at the entrance. She wasn¡¯t looking at him, she was scanning the people already in the lobby and she had one hand tucked inside the flap of the overcoat. There were about twenty others milling about, most in pairs or small groups. He saw her eyes suddenly lock on something and she tilted her head as if studying it. He followed her gaze and saw she was looking at a back corner where one of the emergency exit signs was lit up above a door with a push bar. There was a hardness to her face that Mitchell hadn¡¯t noticed before. He walked up to her.

    ¡°Hey, uh, is everything okay?¡±

    Allora blinked, then brought her piercing gaze back to him. Her eyes were still tinged purple. That was wild, he thought. A girl with purple eyes! In a flash, her face was soft again. Her hand came out of her coat and she gave him a small half smile.

    ¡°I am sorry. There is being food?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, they have a small but decent menu. And a good selection of wine and beer.¡±

    ¡°I am being a little hungry but I am not having coin.¡±

    ¡°Hey, no problem,¡± Mitchell said immediately. ¡°My treat.¡±

    She gave him a puzzled look.

    ¡°A¡­¡± she hesitated as if choosing her words carefully. ¡°A gift?¡±

    Mitchell wanted to smack himself. English obviously wasn¡¯t her first language. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ll buy it for you. Don¡¯t worry.¡±

    ¡°You are being most kind, thank you.¡±

    Her eyes left his and she started watching everyone in the lobby and bar again.

    He walked her up to the bar and they grabbed a couple of empty seats. They still had about forty minutes before the movie was supposed to start so there was plenty of time to eat.

    As she settled into the bar stool next to him he grabbed the menu and placed it between them. She glanced at it but then looked at him.

    ¡°What will you be eating?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Uh¡­ Well, they have a great bacon cheeseburger here. Also, they serve seasoned fries instead of regular, which is always a plus. And the milkshakes are amazing! They use real ice cream, not the stuff you get at fast food places.¡±

    Allora blinked at him and he got the sense that she didn¡¯t have the faintest clue what he was talking about. But she gave him a warm smile.

    ¡°I will be having that.¡±

    ¡°Okay, my kind of woman,¡± Mitchell said with a chuckle. ¡°Ice cream flavor?¡±

    She raised her eyebrows at him.

    ¡°Let me guess. Whatever I¡¯m having?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Mitchell turned to the bartender who was watching him with a very puzzled expression on his face. He looked from Allora and back to him, then back to Allora again.

    ¡°You, uh¡­ You ready to order?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Two bacon cheeseburgers with fries, two mint chocolate milkshakes, and two of whatever pale ale you have.¡±

    The bartender¡ªDane going by the nametag¡ªjotted it down.

    ¡°Sure thing.¡±

    The waiter stared at Allora again and his eyes lingered. She noticed and met his gaze without flinching. Dane blinked first, nodded to Mitchell, and said ¡°Be right back with your beers.¡±

    Mitchell watched him go and tried to make sense of his behavior.

    ¡°Sorry about that,¡± he said, turning back to Allora.

    ¡°Why you are sorry?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, just the way he was staring at you. It was kinda weird.¡±

    ¡°It is being alright. Maybe he is knowing I am not from this place.¡±

    Her lips curled into a small, cryptic smile.

    ¡°Where are you from, anyway?¡± Mitchell asked. ¡°Your accent is¡­ unusual. I¡¯m not sure I¡¯ve ever heard anything like it. I went out with this Russian girl in college very briefly and I thought maybe you were Russian but you don¡¯t sound anything like her.¡±

    Allora studied his face for a moment and if Mitchell had to guess she was making up her mind about something.

    ¡°Not from¡­¡± She paused and it looked to him like she was trying to repeat the word he used but gave up. ¡°...that place. No. My home is¡­ Far away. Maybe you are not knowing it.¡±

    ¡°And what brings you to Phoenix? Are you a student?¡±

    There was silence for a moment as she appeared to process the question but just then the beers arrived, brown bottles already dripping with condensation. Rather than answer him she turned her attention to the two bottles.

    ¡°This is the¡­ pale ale?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah. Never had it before?

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s pretty good.¡±

    She watched as he picked up his bottle and took a drink. Only after Mitchell had placed it back on the bar did she pick hers up, bring it to her nose for a sniff, then bring it uncertainly to her lips. Her first sip was tentative and he saw her move it over her tongue. Then her eyebrows rose she pulled the bottle back to examine the label, then brought it back to her lips and took a much bigger drink. She downed nearly half of it before setting it back on the bar. She was grinning.

    ¡°Good!¡± she exclaimed.

    Then she burped and giggled, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.

    ¡°It is being very different than ale in my home.¡±

    ¡°Glad you like it.¡± He picked his up and tapped it to the neck of her bottle with his. ¡°Cheers. To chance encounters!¡±

    Allora blinked, looked at his bottle, then back to hers, picked it up, and did the same to his. It clinked pleasantly and she took another drink, this time finishing it off.

    ¡°Woah, might want to slow down if you haven¡¯t eaten anything yet.¡±

    Another small burp escaped her lips and she set the bottle down with a grin.

    ¡°Yes. We should be eating first.¡±

    Her purple eyes met his once more and Mitchell almost lost himself. He¡¯d never seen eyes like that before. Screw the movie, he thought. I just want to sit here and talk with her!

    ¡°Mitchell¡­¡± She said his name in a most interesting way. She curled her tongue far back in her mouth for the ¡®L¡¯ sound and he found he wanted her to keep saying it. ¡°Are you having a¡­profession?¡±

    ¡°A job? Yeah, of course. I¡¯m a data analyst for a cosmetics company.¡±

    Her eyebrows pressed together and he watched her try to form the words. ¡°Da da an-sis. An-a-sis.¡± Her face twisted in apparent frustration at her inability to nail the pronunciation. Giving up, she looked at him again.

    ¡°This is good profess¨C Is being good job?¡± She said the word job with a little too much ¡®h¡¯ and an extra syllable. It sounded like ja-hab.

    ¡°It¡¯s not bad. Mostly I just sit in an office and look at sales data and try to find out where our advertising is the most effective. A little boring, if I¡¯m being honest.¡±

    This close to her he could see her eyes watching his mouth intently and it took her a moment to respond.

    ¡°I am sorry. Is being hard to understand this language.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s alright. My fault. I should talk slower and maybe use simpler words. I basically find ways for other people to make more money. Coin.¡± He amended, grinning at the new terminology. ¡°I find a way for other people to make more coin.¡±

    Allora nodded, apparently getting the gist of it.

    ¡°And¡­ Are you having wife or husband? Partner?¡±

    ¡°Ah, no. I¡¯m single. No partner.¡±

    She nodded to herself then and said something under her breath. It sounded like ¡®is being easier¡¯ but he couldn¡¯t quite be sure.

    ¡°What about you? Married? Boyfriend? A girlfriend?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she wobbled her head a little bit in a way Mitchell found odd. Maybe that meant ¡®no¡¯ where she was from. ¡°Family?¡± she continued. ¡°Are you having family?¡±

    ¡°Parents live in Oregon, I have a sister in her second year of college at Oregon State. No major. Says she hasn¡¯t ¡®discovered her passion yet¡¯. What about you?¡±

    A frown creased her full lips.

    ¡°No family,¡± she answered plainly.

    ¡°You¡­ don¡¯t like talking about yourself very much, do you?¡±

    Her eyes weighed him for what felt like a long moment. He tried to read her face to get some indication of what she was thinking however, her beautiful but alien face was smooth and expressionless.

    ¡°I¡­¡± She began, before another brief pause. ¡°I am being private person sometimes. But maybe I can be telling you more another time.¡±

    ¡°Okay, I can respect that. Just feels more like an interrogation than a conversation but I can be patient.¡±

    ¡°I am being grateful for your understanding.¡±

    Mitchell was searching for something that she might be willing to talk about when their food arrived and he was saved. ¡°Right back with your milkshakes,¡± Dane told them. He seemed to avoid looking at Allora.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    Once again, she stared at the food with open curiosity. ¡°Have you not had a burger before, either?¡±

    She picked up the top of the bun and looked underneath, then brought her nose in to sniff it. ¡°No,¡± she said while sticking a finger into the melting cheese. She brought it to her lips and tasted it and made a sound of pleasure as the melted cheddar hit her tongue.

    ¡°You¡¯re kidding? You¡¯ve seriously never had a burger? Like not even Mcdonald''s or Burger King?¡±

    Her head made that small wobbling gesture again and he thought for a moment she was going to get angry, something flashed behind her purple eyes, but it passed. Instead, she only smiled slightly and said, ¡°No. Where I am from we are not having this food.¡±

    ¡°Well, dig in!¡±

    The burger was almost but not quite too big to be eaten in a single bite. To Mitchell¡¯s mind, if a burger was so big that you couldn¡¯t get all the components into your mouth in one bite, it wasn¡¯t a burger, it was an upright meat salad. One should not need a fork and knife to enjoy a good hunk of ground beef.

    ¡°Mmmm, ohmagod!¡± Mitchell exclaimed as the first bite slid home.

    She was staring at him again, watching his movements carefully and he suddenly felt slightly embarrassed for how much he was enjoying the food. He¡¯d had a hell of a day at work and had skipped lunch, so he was starving.

    ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m just really hungry.¡±

    He reached for his beer and Allora turned her attention back to her plate. She picked the sandwich up and brought it to her mouth. After sniffing it once more, her dark lips opened and she took a big bite. He watched her closely, trying to gauge her reaction to her first burger but it wasn¡¯t hard to spot. Allora chewed slowly a couple of times. Then her eyes went wide and she grinned

    ¡°Mmm!¡± she vocalized through a mouthful of food. She powered through her next few chews and, barely stopping for a breath, took another large bite. A large dollop of ketchup ended up on her lip and Mitchell couldn¡¯t help but laugh. She looked so adorable he almost didn¡¯t want to give her a napkin.

    After that, what conversation they were able to have became sporadic and mostly about the food. He had to demonstrate the ketchup and fries to her but she seemed to enjoy those, too. She polished her burger off a lot faster than him and went after the fries with a similar amount of gusto. She¡¯d mostly ignored their shakes that had come just moments after the burger but once the fries were gone she turned her attention to the tall vintage soda shop glass that contained the mint chocolate concoction. After a little more sniffing and watching him pull up the milkshake through the oversized straw, she copied his motions once more and practically inhaled the frosty dessert. He cautioned her to slow down, wanting to warn her about brain freeze but it was too late. Allora sucked in a huge breath and her face contorted in pain. Both hands came up to the sides of her head and she pressed. A small groan came from her throat and she cursed. At least that¡¯s what it sounded like, although he couldn¡¯t make sense of it.

    ¡°Stolar¡¯s burning cock!¡± she hissed.

    ¡°Yeah, probably should have warned you,¡± Mitchell said apologetically. ¡°I should have guessed you¡¯d never had ice cream before.

    She sucked in a few more breaths and looked at him, her cheeks going slightly red. ¡°Not being your fault. I should not be eating so much. But it is being very good.¡±

    He cautioned her to drink a little slower and they continued their meal.

    Her plate was clean before he¡¯d polished off his fries and she was slurping up the last bits of her milkshake before he¡¯d gone halfway through his. ¡°You know,¡± he said between sips. ¡°I admire a woman with an appetite.¡±

    Her food coma was beginning to settle in and she slouched back on the bar stool, one hand over her stomach and the other hanging limply at her side. Before she could respond a loud burp erupted from her throat and got the attention of several people nearby. Her eyes darted around and she dipped her head in a conciliatory manner to the woman next to her who she¡¯d startled out of a phone conversation.

    ¡°Feel better?¡± Mitchell asked her, amused.

    Her eyes slid lazily over to him and she smiled. A big smile this time, not the small ones she seemed to favor. This one reached her violet-flecked eyes.

    ¡°Yes. I was being little hungry. Mostly I am eating fruit for some days.¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± Mitchell said, understanding. ¡°My sister is always doing fruit cleanses. Usually, she¡¯s an irritable bitch for a week, then she folds and eats a whole pizza.¡±

    Allora¡¯s head cocked sideways at his words but she didn¡¯t respond.

    ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m glad you enjoyed it,¡± pressing on past her stoicism. ¡°Whenever you¡¯re ready we can head into the theater.¡±

    Allora excused herself to the ladies'' room while Mitchell paid the check. As the bartender was handing back his card and the receipt, he asked, ¡°Hey man, what language was she speaking?¡±

    Mitchell blinked. ¡°Huh? What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°The girl. What language was that?¡±

    ¡°Um¡­ English?¡± Mitchell slid the card back in its place in his wallet and returned it to his back pocket.

    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to be rude,¡± Dane continued. ¡°I¡¯ve just never heard a language like that. I only want to know where she¡¯s from.¡±

    ¡°I seriously have no idea what you¡¯re talking about. She has an accent, sure but she was speaking English.¡±

    Dane looked annoyed for a moment and Mitchell thought he might press the issue but had no idea why he would. It was a ridiculous thing to argue about. After a couple of tense seconds, Dane decided to let it drop.

    ¡°Whatever,¡± he said, his voice curt. ¡°Enjoy the movie, sir.¡±

    He turned back to the small dishwasher they had behind the bar and began to unload the cocktail glasses and beer mugs that had just finished their cycle.

    Mitchell shook his head and went to stand by the theater doors to wait for Allora.

    *****

    Mitchell had seen Godzilla a bunch of times but still loved the campy fun of it. His dad was an old movie buff so he¡¯d grown up watching stuff like this. Allora confessed to never having seen it but he couldn¡¯t say he was really surprised. If she¡¯d never had a burger and milkshake what were the odds that she¡¯d seen a nearly seventy-year-old Japanese horror film? Even so, her reaction to the film surprised him. She visibly cringed at the noise, for one thing. Almost like her ears weren¡¯t comfortable with the surround sound. As the rubber-suited monster began its obliteration of the oft-destroyed city of Tokyo, she was looking around constantly and flinched several times when a building was crushed or a car hit a power line and exploded. Mitchell had to check with her more than once to see if she was okay and she replied each time that she was fine.

    Still, he couldn¡¯t help noticing her death grip on the armrests. He saw her reach into her coat a couple of times during some of the bigger fight scenes and he began to wonder if she had some sort of weapon in there.

    After the film was over Allora didn¡¯t say anything, even when he asked her what she thought as the credits were rolling. She was still silent as they left the theater. They walked outside and sat on some of the patio seating and she only gave noncommittal sounds to his few questions. She was quiet for so long that Mitchell started to feel slightly uncomfortable and began thinking maybe it was time to call it a night. Something was clearly bothering her. Right as he was about to suggest they should head to their respective homes, she spoke.

    ¡°This moo-vie was being a¡­ fiction?¡± She said the word strangely, stretching the sound like she was imitating a cow.

    ¡°A fiction? Like not real?¡±

    ¡°Yes. It is being a lie?¡± Her eyes were locked on his as if she could read his mind if she stared hard enough.

    Of all the things he thought she might be thinking about during her silent period that certainly wasn¡¯t one of them.

    ¡°Of course? Did you think it was real? Do they¡­ Do they not have movies in your country?¡± Mitchell struggled to comprehend how she could not know what a movie was.

    Something changed on her face and she looked like she realized she¡¯d said something wrong.

    ¡°I am sorry,¡± she said suddenly. ¡°Just I am not seeing a moo-vie before.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s okay. I¡¯m sorry to pry, I know you don¡¯t want to talk about it, but are you Amish, by any chance? Are you on that holiday they take? What¡¯s it called?¡± Mitchell struggled to remember the name. ¡°Rumspringa! Are you on your Rumspringa?¡±

    That might also explain the lilt of her voice. He¡¯d seen where some Amish people spoke with their own accents. A sort of Dutch-tinged English.

    She looked puzzled again, as she so often had over the course of their conversations but then she nodded and smiled awkwardly. ¡°Yes. I am being on the¡­¡± She paused once again and he could see her mouth attempt to form the words. ¡°The Rum-spring.¡±

    ¡°Your community must have been extremely isolated if you didn¡¯t even know what a movie was. But hey, it¡¯s kinda cool that Godzilla was your first film! It¡¯s a classic.¡±

    ¡°I am being happy your people are not treating the tragic death of so many as entertainment,¡± she replied. ¡°I was thinking this is a place of madness. And I am seeing no sign of dragons before this movie. Many tall buildings and are having no defenses.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, if someone hadn¡¯t seen anything like that before, I guess I could see how you would make that assumption.¡±

    He decided not to address why she would have expected to see dragons and just filed it away as another of her peculiarities.

    ¡°No, it wasn¡¯t real,¡± he said instead. ¡°And there certainly aren¡¯t any giant radioactive lizards or dragons destroying Tokyo with their fire breath! Those were actors and Godzilla was just a man in a big rubber suit. We like to tell stories of tragedy but where we ultimately win in the end.¡±

    Allora nodded and gave him another one of her small, cryptic smiles.

    Thinking over her words, Mitchell decided that would explain how stressed out she appeared during the movie. He couldn¡¯t imagine watching Godzilla and thinking it was some sort of documentary. But then she spoke as if she would have expected to see dragons. Who was this woman? He was both freaked out and drawn to her at the same time. She was definitely not like the girls he usually met up with through dating apps.

    ¡°Well, listen, it¡¯s getting kind of late. I can take you home if you want. My car is just around the corner in the parking lot. Or we can call you an Uber if you¡¯re more comfortable.¡±

    She watched him for a long moment and he wasn¡¯t sure if he¡¯d said something to upset her. A pained look passed across her face just then. She suddenly looked very tired.

    ¡°Hey, are you okay? Do you need me to call someone?¡±

    She visibly shook and, for a moment, he thought he saw her eyes moisten slightly, but she inhaled sharply and squeezed her eyelids shut. When she opened them she was back to herself once again.

    ¡°Yes, I would like if you can be taking me home.¡±

    She reached into her pocket and pulled out a well-folded piece of paper. ¡°Are you knowing this place?¡±

    He didn¡¯t recognize the street name but the GPS should be able to find it easily enough.

    ¡°Sure, yeah. Follow me.¡±

    As they pulled out of the parking lot and sped down the street, Mitchell saw her tense up in the passenger seat. She probably hasn¡¯t had much experience with cars, he reminded himself. He kept his speed a little under the limit and sure enough, she relaxed. A little, anyway.

    ¡°We should be at your place in about twenty minutes,¡± he told her. She nodded while looking out the window, taking in the shops that lined so many of the streets in this part of town.

    ¡°Your world is being so bright,¡± she said quietly. ¡°People are walking with no fear of the darkness.¡±

    ¡°Well, there¡¯s crime here, of course. There¡¯s crime everywhere. There are places you definitely should not go at night, places that are dangerous even for the police.¡±

    ¡°But there are being no creatures of the darkness. There is only being other people. No monsters like in your moo-vie.¡± She looked at him then. ¡°Living here is being easy, I think. Not fighting every day.¡±

    ¡°I guess so. It¡¯s easier than some other places. There are wars going on all the time, people suffering and dying from not enough food, no medicine, things like that. But you¡¯re right. No creatures of the darkness. At least not in this part of the world. People can be pretty shitty all on their own, though¡±

    She didn¡¯t answer after that and they rode in silence the rest of the way. She looked at him several times during the short ride across town. The GPS was taking them down Baseline toward South Phoenix, a part of town where Mitchell knew there were a lot of older single-family homes. Not the nicest area but it shouldn¡¯t be a problem. He wondered what it must be like for her to have grown up the way she did and then to be in Phoenix of all places. She must have been terrified. He tried to probe a little more about her past but she didn¡¯t appear to want to talk. After a few failed questions, he gave up. He could see something was weighing on her. Maybe it was sensory overload. She¡¯d clearly been sheltered her whole life and she¡¯d had a big night.

    A short time later Mitchell made a right onto her street and pulled up in front of her house. It was a small ranch-style single-family home, just like the dozen or so other houses that ran up and down the block. Through the glow of a lonely street lamp he could see the yard was in bad shape with scrub grass sprouting out randomly from the hard-packed dirt. The garage door, badly in need of a paint job, was down and the empty driveway was cracked in several places. One window was boarded up with plywood and no lights were on.

    ¡°Is this¡­¡± He scanned the house and looked at her. ¡°Is this your place?¡± He had trouble seeing a woman like her living in a place like this. She looked like she belonged in one of those pricey condos where models hung out between fashion shows in Paris and New York. Didn¡¯t the Amish communities provide them with enough money to live relatively comfortably while they were on Rumspringa? This place was a dump.

    She looked at him for a moment and there was a painful intensity to her eyes. ¡°Mitchell¡­ Would you like to be coming inside with me? There is something I am wanting to talk to you about.¡±

    ¡°Oh shit!¡± Mitchell thought to himself. ¡°Here it comes. The pitch.¡±

    Under normal circumstances, he would jump at the chance to go inside anywhere with a woman like her but something was niggling in the back of his mind. He didn¡¯t know this woman. Didn¡¯t know the first thing about her, really. She¡¯d been evasive all night, dodging his questions and now she wanted him to go inside? Was this a cult thing?

    ¡°Listen, Allora, I think you¡¯re beautiful and, even though you¡¯ve hardly talked about yourself at all, I suspect you¡¯re a fascinating person with some stories to tell. I¡¯ll give you my number and maybe we can meet again, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a good idea for me to go inside. Not tonight.¡±

    Allora looked away from him then and she was clearly struggling with something. He felt instantly protective of her. Maybe she was in some sort of trouble.

    ¡°Hey, are you okay? Do you need me to take you somewhere else? Honestly, this house doesn¡¯t look very safe.¡±

    She looked back to him then and her hand reached across the center console and found his. Her skin was cool and he could feel calluses on her hands as her fingers wrapped around his. She¡¯d done hard work at some point in her life.

    ¡°Please, Mitchell. If you are coming in with me I promise I can be explaining. I will be answering your questions. There is being something you must see.¡±

    There was such a pleading in her eyes that it almost broke Mitchell¡¯s heart. Her fingers gripped his and she was strong. He could feel the strength in her hand and it surprised him. Mitchell was no slouch, he worked out, but it felt like she could snap his fingers if she wanted to. He turned and looked back at the house and then back at her.

    "This is so stupid," he thought. "This is crazy."

    He didn¡¯t know this woman. This beautiful, enchanting woman. This woman with purple eyes who¡¯d never had a cheeseburger and didn¡¯t know what a movie was. This woman who was looking at him with such intensity and desperation that he¡¯d already decided he would fight for her. Even if he didn¡¯t yet realize it himself.

    ¡°Alright,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll go in with you.¡±

    Relief washed over her features.

    ¡°But look, if you kill me and harvest my kidneys I¡¯m going to be really upset. Just so you know. I¡¯ll haunt you. Like for real.¡±

    She laughed then. It was a short, clipped thing but he found he wanted to hear it again. ¡°I will not be killing you, Mitchell. Only I am wanting to talk to you and show you something. From my homeland.¡±

    "Don¡¯t go in her house. Don¡¯t do it! This is super weird. She¡¯s super weird! This is how people get sucked into cults or human trafficked!"

    ¡°Okay,¡± Mitchell said, his voice resigned to his fate. ¡°But I warned you. I really will haunt you. Like forever. You¡¯ll never pee in peace again.¡±

    She gave him a reassuring smile and exited the car. He took out his phone and shot a quick text to Andy with the address and instructions that if he didn¡¯t hear from him later to call the police. At least if she did kill him, the cops would have a place to start looking for his body.

    Slipping it back in his pocket he stepped out of the car and walked up to where Allora was standing on the sidewalk. The street was quiet around them and a cool breeze was blowing down off the mountains to the south, a real rarity at this time of the year. He could see some lights on in the other houses up and down the block. Someone was playing some music in their backyard and the faint sounds of Mexican polka drifted to his ears. The air smelled like baked asphalt and hot sand.

    ¡°After you,¡± he said.

    She nodded and began walking to the house. In his pocket, his phone buzzed. It was Andy.

    ¡°Dude, wtf? Are you serious? What are you doing?¡±

    He was about to tap out a quick reply when he walked into Allora¡¯s back. She had stopped halfway up the walk to her front door. Her body was rigid. As he looked around he saw figures emerging from the shadows on either side of the house. Two from the left and one from the right. The one on the right was huge. He looked like he was at least 6¡¯ 5¡± and all of that was muscle. The other two looked to be equally solid but more of a size with him. All of them were wearing long trench coats.

    They stopped about ten feet away forming a rough semi-circle around Mitchell and Allora as they stood just at the edge of the glow of the street lamp. The big one on the right spoke then.

    ¡°Doh lahg ven felleye set Allora De Annen. Matrey vosh candelay un setra lar.¡±

    Mitchell peered at the big man speaking. He had a deep, grating voice like rocks in a tumbler. His face was still in shadow but Mitchell could make out a little of it. There was something off about his features. His face was broad and flat and his lower jaw looked like it protruded too far. And was that a¡­ a tusk sticking up from a lower lip?

    ¡°Um¡­ Allora? Are these friends of yours?¡±

    She didn¡¯t answer. Instead, she spoke to the big man.

    ¡°Then you have come here to be dying,¡± she hissed.

    ¡°Woah, woah. What the hell is going on?¡± Mitchell said. ¡°You guys need to back off!¡±

    He tried to put some weight behind his words but if this got physical he knew they were in trouble. He was in good shape and he could throw a punch but he didn¡¯t think it would matter much against three of them. And in this neighborhood, no one would bother calling the cops until their bodies were already cold.

    The two on the left chuckled and one of them said something Mitchell couldn¡¯t understand, which only brought more laughter.

    Allora turned her head slightly back towards him without taking her eyes off the men in front.

    ¡°When I am telling you, run for the door!¡±

    Her voice was tight and there was an unmistakable note of command to it.

    ¡°Allora, what is going on?¡±

    She didn¡¯t answer, focusing her full attention back on the three men in front. There was a sound in the air, a faint whisper of metal on metal, and the big man on the right pulled a sword from under his coat. An honest-to-god sword! It was long and the polished metal glinted off the yellow glow of the street light behind them.

    ¡°Goleck des vosh palen,¡± The big man said. Clearly, he was some sort of leader. Mitchell had no idea what he was saying but he could sense a certain finality to his voice. A chill ran down his spine.

    ¡°Ohhh fuck,¡± he thought. ¡°I¡¯m going to fucking die. From a sword!¡±

    In front of him, he saw Allora¡¯s hands spread to the side and she had a long blade in each one that she¡¯d pulled from somewhere. Probably what she was reaching for all night, he thought. They weren¡¯t as long as the Big, Dark, and Ugly¡¯s swords but they were longer than Mitchell¡¯s forearms. And they looked wickedly sharp.

    ¡°De nah,¡± she said, her voice carrying an equal amount of finality to it. Suddenly there was a prickling along his skin and Allora flung her hand out toward the two men on the left while her attention was focused on the big man on the right. Mitchell saw a flash of light from in front of Allora but couldn¡¯t see where it came from. It was bright, almost like a camera flash bulb. He saw a rippling of the air that extended from her arm and flowed toward the two men who had begun to draw their own swords.

    Before they could extract them fully, the ripple hit both of them and they were thrown back. With a startled cry, they were actually lifted off their feet and thrown through the air a good meter or two before striking the ground hard and rolling into the front wall of the house.

    Mitchell hardly had time to process what he was seeing when Allora leapt forward and rushed the big man, blades held out at the ready.

    ¡°Jesus, what the fuck?¡± Mitchell cried out.

    There was a flurry of slashes from her blades as the big man staggered back from the ferocity of her attack. He nearly lost his footing as he was driven from the packed earth of the front yard onto the uneven surface of the cracked driveway. His single blade moved in lightning-fast arcs as he tried to deal with the glinting wall of death she¡¯d created with her shorter knives.

    Allora spared him a brief glance then and shouted over her shoulder, ¡°Suteck! Suteck osh ifni!¡±

    Mitchell had no idea what she¡¯d just said but remembered her instructions. That sounded like ¡®run¡¯ to him. Not sparing a second to see if he obeyed, Allora turned her attention back on the big man and the clang of steel on steel filled the night air once more. To his left, he could see the other two struggling to right themselves. Whatever hit them had knocked them senseless.

    He raced to the door as a deep cry of pain came from the big man Allora was fighting. There was another flash of light, this one not as bright as the first one, but Mitchell didn¡¯t stop to see what was going on. He slammed into the front door and started working the knob. Surprisingly, it opened. He rushed inside and heard footsteps just behind him. Fearing one of the attackers he turned and prepared to slam it shut when he saw Allora racing up the walk towards him. He stepped aside quickly and she moved through the door. He could see she was bleeding from the side of her head.

    ¡°Bekyuh!¡± She gave him a push to the side and nearly shoved him into a wall. Holy shit, she was strong!

    She slammed the door shut and only then did Mitchell see what was on the backside. It was etched with some kind of chalk or paint with intricate designs that seemed to pull his eyes in. They swirled out in complex geometric shapes and the lines crossed over onto the door frame. It looked almost like some sort of spider web with strange symbols drawn along the edges.

    Allora reached into a pocket and brought out a small jewel. It was dark in the house but there was enough ambient light to pick up the tell-tale glint of a cut diamond, emerald, or whatever it was. With practiced efficiency, she took one of the gemstones out of the headband she wore and put in the new one. She dropped the old stone to the floor without a second thought and then placed her hand inside one of the shapes on the door. The stone in her headband flashed again and Mitchell saw light race out of her fingers and along the patterns carved into the door. The symbols glowed with a yellow-orange radiance and then went dark.

    ¡°Jesus fuck,¡± he said out loud. ¡°Allora what the hell is going on?¡±

 Chapter 2

    Allora wiped the sleeve of her trench coat across her left eye clearing away what blood she could. In the dark of the house, it looked like black face paint had been applied from her scalp down to her jawline. He could see a few drops splattered on the white blouse she was wearing. The gemstone in her headband flashed again, nearly blinding in the lightless foyer and Mitchell staggered back rubbing his eyes.

    ¡°Ah, shit!¡±

    ¡°We must be going. I am being sorry Mitchell. I am wanting to talk to you first but we are not having time. They are finding us.¡±

    As his vision cleared he felt a hand grab his wrist and drag him into the living room. Her grip was like banded steel. Behind him, something heavy hit the door followed almost immediately by a deep ¡°whump¡± that Mitchell felt in his chest, and the whole house shook to its foundations. Cracks spiderwebbed through the paint and drywall around the door frame, as the cheap wood of the door cracked and bulged inward, while bits of popcorned ceiling rained down on both of their heads. Allora pitched forward slightly. He felt her grip loosen and, coughing and trying to suck air into his lungs again, he snatched his arm free.

    ¡°Hold the fuck up!¡± He coughed again and pulled in a deep breath. ¡°Who are those guys, who the hell are you, and what is going on?¡±

    ¡°We are not having time!¡± Allora hissed. ¡°The spell on the door is only having one charge and it is maybe only killing one of them. The other two will be coming and I am running out of mana crystals. We must go!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ What? I¡¯m not going anywhere with you. You¡¯re a goddamned crazy person! I¡¯m calling the cops!¡±

    Mitchell reached for his pocket but like a whip, Allora¡¯s hand snapped out and grabbed his wrist again.

    ¡°If you are not coming with me they will be killing you.¡±

    Her voice was low and deadly serious. Outside Mitchell heard the shouted conversation of one of the men. Her head snapped back through the small dining alcove to where the sliding patio doors stood closed. They were glass and had no fancy writing on them.

    ¡°The other two are circling behind. We must be hurrying!¡±

    It was then that Mitchell noticed there was no furniture in the house. It was empty. On the countertop in the kitchen, he could see a few red solo cups and two large bags of oranges. There was no sofa in the living room, no TV, no pictures on the now cracked walls, no little table in the dining alcove, and no stove or refrigerator in the kitchen. He suspected if he flipped the light switch it wouldn¡¯t come on either.

    Something clicked then and his eyes tracked back to the oranges.

    ¡°I have been eating fruit for some days.¡± That¡¯s what she¡¯d told him at Filmbar. What the fuck was going on?

    Before he could ask her again the hand on his arm pulled him and he had no choice but to follow. She pulled him through the empty living room and down the hall.

    At the end of the hall, he could make out two doors, both open. There was a little bit of light in the door on the left but the one on the right was pitch black. Naturally, she angled right. He got the feeling that if he resisted she¡¯d yank his arm out of its socket. It felt like she could do it, too.

    Once inside, she released him and turned to close the door. In the darkness, he saw a flash of light from her headband and her hand became illuminated much as it had done at the front door of the house. Then the light raced from her arm through another set of shapes that had been carved on the door. Outside the room, he heard the sound of breaking glass. They were in the house.

    Once the glow dissipated, the room went dark again but only for a moment. There was a much smaller flash from her headband and several candles around the room burst into life. Startled, Mitchell looked around and felt like he¡¯d been dragged into an eighties slasher film with human sacrifice.

    The carpet and foam padding had been ripped up from the floor exposing bare concrete. Everything had been wadded up and shoved into the closet at the far end of the room. In the center of the floor was another circle, only this one much more complex. Circles within circles within triangles and other shapes Mitchell couldn¡¯t even name.

    At the center of this circle was a small metallic¡­ something. It was gold or a material that looked like gold, and it had four delicate legs that connected with four lines at the center of the circle and which spread outwards through the entire design. The legs joined at the center, then flared out and opened up almost like the leaves of a flower and it formed a small platform. At the tip of each leaf was a small gemstone about the size of a pea. Atop the platform sat a small cage-like device, the top of which was open, having been slid up on a set of thin vertical golden rails.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    The overlapping lines combined with some sort of runic script and his brain struggled to comprehend what he was looking at. The whole shape took on a three-dimensional quality. Mitchell was overcome with the sense that he was staring down a deep, dark hole that bored into the Earth.

    He squeezed his eyes shut as vertigo seized him and tried to shake the feeling off.

    Opening his eyes once again he found the feeling returned if he stared directly at the designs so he averted his gaze. Instead, he turned to Allora. She was just off to his left securing a backpack to herself. She had stowed her long knives somewhere and she had a sword belted to her waist as well. Through the wall into the other room there was the sound of more glass breaking and then more yells in that strange language. It sounded like one had gone through the patio doors and the other was coming in through the window in the second bedroom. Mitchell turned and looked for a way out of this room but found the room¡¯s only window had been covered by the plywood he¡¯d seen from outside. They were trapped.

    ¡°Be standing in the circle. There! There!¡± Allora pointed. ¡°Do not be stepping on the lines!¡±

    Outside something hit the bedroom door, and there was another small explosion as light flared up from the shapes drawn onto the back followed by a scream of pain that cut off very quickly. They both jumped before Allora directed him to the circle again. Trying not to stare too deeply at the patterns, he saw that there was a small space just barely big enough for his feet to sit in the center off to one side of the metallic device. Not waiting for him, Allora stepped into a second one directly across from his.

    From the hallway, there was a shout of pure rage and what were almost surely curse words. Allora¡¯s eyes flicked to the door and then back to his.

    ¡°Please, Mitchell. We are not having time.¡± She had softened her tone but it was no less urgent. ¡°They will be killing you. And if not them, more will be coming.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ why? I¡­¡± Mitchell couldn¡¯t think. Outside the very angry someone kicked at the door and the wood splintered and cracked but amazingly it held. The smell of burnt wood and blackened meat and hair reached his nostrils. Through a crack in the door greenish-gray face pressed in. Half-burnt, its flesh was charred and oozing down one side with one eye clouded over. It was the larger figure from outside that Allora had gone after with her knives.

    ¡°Eck voneer, mine phelor!¡± he snarled. Mitchell didn¡¯t know what it meant but the meaning was clear enough. Some sort of invective. From inside the circle Allora hissed in displeasure.

    ¡°Then come, tolaken,¡± Allora replied, her voice like iron. ¡°Come.¡±

    The big man thing bellowed in rage and staggered back from the door. There was a shuffling sound outside as he threw himself at it again but it was weaker this time. He was clearly wounded and struggling to stay on his feet. Even so, the top hinge broke from the frame completely, and the door nearly cracked in half.

    ¡°Mitchell!¡±

    Allora screamed his name this time. It was enough. He didn¡¯t know what the fuck was going on but she hadn¡¯t hurt him. He was also quite positive that tall, gray, and crispy in the hall very much would. She must have a plan to get them out since she wanted to get away as much as he did and this mandala from hell on the floor was some part of that. From her pocket, Allora pulled out a much larger gem, almost the size of his thumb, and placed it into the cage in the middle of the device. She reached out and touched one of the small pea-sized gems that sat at the center of each of the petals formed by the legs and the top of the cage slammed down, smashing the gemstone at its center.

    Light erupted from the shattered crystal and, strangely, remained contained inside the delicate filigree of the cage. It began to run down the four legs and into the drawing on the floor, almost like liquid flowing down a channel, and where it moved, the lines began to glow. As the light filled the room, the creature outside bellowed once again and threw himself at the door, which gave way under his assault. He came through with such force that the door completely ripped away from the frame and broke apart. The top half flew away hitting the far wall while he tripped himself up over the bottom half, rolling into the wall with a meaty thud. The thin drywall caved in under his massive bulk, and he groaned.

    The light from the cage at the center reached the outermost set of symbols and Mitchell heard a hum begin to come from somewhere. Then he felt it. His insides began to vibrate with the frequency and suddenly, it was hard to breathe. He felt every hair on his body stand up and something like static electricity began to ripple across his skin.

    ¡°What the fuck is happening?¡± he screamed and the hum had grown so loud he could barely hear his own voice.

    ¡°Do not be moving!¡± Allora shouted, her voice almost lost in the increasing volume of the hum.

    Across the room, the big man staggered to his feet. One arm hung limp and bloody from his side and half of his body was scorched, flesh coming away in flakes that looked like burned parchment paper.

    "How is this asshole still on his feet?"

    His one good eye turned to the two of them standing motionless in their spots. In the center, the cage emptied as the last of the liquid illumination flowed into each leg, and streams of it reached the outer ring of the drawing. A curtain of light began to extend upward from that ring right as the creature howled in a primal rage. He raised his good limb and started to charge the circle as he pulled his arm back to swing his long blade. Mitchell could only watch the sword begin a sideways arc that would terminate at his neck. As he screamed a scream he could no longer hear, he thought to himself, ¡°This is how I die. All I wanted to do was watch a movie with a pretty girl and now I¡¯m going to die.¡±

    Then the world went white and Mitchell felt himself rip apart.

 Chapter 3

    Mitchell felt himself falling.

    ¡°No, that¡¯s not right. I¡¯m flying. Holy shit, I¡¯m flying!¡±

    He had no body. He had no eyes but he could see. Except there is nothing to see.

    ¡°Is this death? Is this what happens after we die? Crap, I hope I¡¯m going to heaven.¡±

    There was light before him. The sense of motion increased. He was falling after all. He was falling down a tunnel that seemed as long and as deep as the universe.

    ¡°Oh fuuuuuuuuuuck!¡±

    The first thought that Mitchell had upon returning to consciousness was ouch. The second thought was also ouch.

    ¡°Owww, son of a bitch!¡± he groaned and tried to move. Pain. ¡°Nope! Nope, not moving.¡±

    He grunted as his muscles spasmed.

    ¡°There¡¯s no way being dead hurts this much.¡±

    He heard the sounds of someone else in extreme discomfort and knew then that he wasn¡¯t alone. He tried to pull his muddled thoughts together through the haze of agony that was clouding his brain and remember how he¡¯d gotten here. There had been the woman, Allora. She¡¯d wanted him to see something in her house. Her empty house! They¡¯d been attacked by three people, one looked horribly disfigured, and there had been explosions and swords and light. Magic! She¡¯d used magic! That was really the only explanation Mitchell could think of. Magic was real. I¡¯ve got to get up. I¡¯ve got to move.

    His face was pressed flat against a cool smooth surface. His head was throbbing and he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. It was like the worst tequila-induced hangover ever combined with the body aches of a nasty flu.

    He opened one eye, the one not pressed into the glassy surface, and looked across an expanse of a polished black floor. There was a soft light from somewhere above him and it filled the room with a warm orange glow. A few feet away he could see a shape slowly getting to its feet. It was Allora. He watched as she pushed herself up to her hands and knees, breathed for a moment, then got up to one knee before pushing herself upright. She staggered a little, then turned and looked at him.

    ¡°Re wux kruth, Mitchell?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Mitchell found the strength to roll onto his back. He felt something press into his side as his body turned. He reached back and found that it was fleshy and warm. Yanking it from under him, he saw that it was a greenish-gray arm cut off cleanly just above the elbow.

    ¡°Shit!¡± he cried out, throwing it aside. It landed with a meaty thwack on the stone floor. It was enough of a shock to get him moving and he sat up fully, groaning as his head throbbed.

    ¡°Are you okay, Mitchell?¡±

    He looked up at her and she was standing there, as beautiful as ever, holding her hand out to pull him to his feet.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m okay. I think. Nothing¡¯s broken. I feel like I¡¯ve been hit by a truck, but all my fingers and toes are still attached.¡±

    Mitchell eyed her hand a moment and then took it. She pulled him to his feet with ease and he staggered around just as she had. ¡°I think I¡¯m going to throw up,¡± he gasped, as his head swam and his stomach turned.

    ¡°Keep moving around,¡± she advised. ¡°It gets better. The sickness should wear off momentarily, the aches and pains in about fifteen or twenty minutes.¡±

    The room they were in was rectangular, maybe twenty feet by thirty feet. Composed of large blocks that fit smoothly together, the color of the walls suggested cut sandstone. About three feet down from the ceiling and spaced equidistantly around the perimeter were small balls of light that seemed to float against the wall. As much as he wanted to examine them, a flurry of questions suddenly pressed into his mind as the pain began to dissipate.

    ¡°Where the hell are we?¡±

    ¡°We are in Iletish, it is a kingdom neighboring Awenor. We are not on your plane of existence anymore. This is the home of an arcanist, a powerful one, named Revos. I¡¯m sorry, but we do not have much time. If they tracked me to your realm then we are not safe here. We need to get my things and run.¡±

    ¡°Look, no offense but¡­¡± Mitchell stopped and reconsidered his words. ¡°No, you know what? Offense intended. You need to tell me what the fuck is going on because I¡¯m not going anywhere with you. I need to get back home. I don¡¯t know how you brought me here and I don¡¯t really care, but you need to do whatever that voodoo shit is and send me back. I have a job, a family, hell I have a date next week! So let¡¯s go. Chop chop!¡±

    Mitchell snapped his fingers at her, causing her head to pull back. Anger passed over her features.

    ¡°Send me back.¡±

    The exertion of his outburst left him winded so soon after whatever that was that brought him here and he felt slightly dizzy as his heart raced in his chest. There were so many questions racing through his mind and he was sure he was running off pure adrenalin since a severed arm had barely phased him but he was prioritizing getting home first. He would deal with the PTSD later.

    ¡°Mitchell, I¨C¡± she cut off then, head cocking as she keyed in on something. Then she jerked up sharply. Immediately she reached for one of her long-bladed knives but before it was out of the sheath, Mitchell saw the air ripple just behind her, and a man just sort of¡­ appeared, like he was stepping out from behind an invisible curtain. He was big but not like Tall Gray And Crispy had been back in the house. He looked human and was wearing some sort of leather armor. In his hand, he held a stout wooden club about two feet long and, as Mitchell watched, he started to bring it down, aiming it straight for the back of the girl¡¯s head.

    ¡°Allora!¡± Mitchell cried out, but he was too late.

    The club connected solidly with a sickening sound, and she crumpled as if her legs had turned to jelly. The big man looked at him his eyes flicked up and over Mitchell¡¯s shoulder. There was the sound of movement behind him. Before he could turn to face the new threat, there was a sharp pain that exploded his whole world and he was once again unconscious.

    *****

    The first sensation Mitchell felt upon waking this time was a slow rocking motion. And heat. He felt as if he was sitting in a sauna and being cooked. His senses began to slowly come online and there was the press of bars into his back. His legs were bent and cramped and there was a stinging sensation around both of his wrists. He heard the rhythmic sounds of plodding feet and the creaking of wood and metal. Then the smell entered his nose. It was a heavy, musky scent that reminded him of summers at his grandparents¡¯ farm in Illinois when he was a kid. The smell of horses and cows mingled together with an almost ever-present smell of manure.

    Every part of him hurt. His back was cramped, his legs were stiff, and every rocking motion made him want to retch. His head was the worst of it, though. He imagined this is what it felt like to have your skull in a vice with someone slowly increasing the pressure. He felt like he wanted to crack his cranium open and pour his brain out onto his lap.

    He wished for the painless void of unconsciousness but he knew he was up and there was nothing to be done about that now. There was a painfully bright light pressing into his eyelids and he was squinting before he even tried to open them. With an effort, he cracked open first one eyelid, then the other. He couldn¡¯t stop the groan from escaping his lips as harsh sunlight pierced his retinas. He brought his hands up and noticed then that there were two manacles around his wrists that were linked by a short chain. There was some kind of writing on it but his eyes couldn¡¯t focus well enough to make out what it might be. After blinking rapidly for several agonizing seconds, his vision started to clear and he could see the bars of his cage.

    The bars were a sturdy-looking dark wood with iron bands at the top and the bottom holding them together. There was maybe an eight-inch gap between each one. The cage was barely four feet to a side and only a little higher. Mitchell was sitting, legs curled with his back against the rear of the cage. As near as he could make out he was in a wagon and, through the back, he could see a desert. Nothing but sand and burning blue sky to the horizon. Looking around he saw that he wasn¡¯t alone. To his right was another occupied cage, this one containing Allora. He could make out her black hair, sticky with blood, dangling through some of the bars. Mitchell, remembering that he had been whacked in the head as well, reached back and felt the tender spot that was the source of the radiating pain that seemed to be traveling all the way down to his feet. Even the light pressure he applied to the large and oozing bump made his vision go blurry.

    ¡°I¡¯ve probably got a concussion,¡± he said to himself.

    Allora wasn¡¯t moving. As he turned to get a look behind him he saw another cage, this one also occupied and when he saw who was inside, he couldn¡¯t help but cry out and flinch away.

    ¡°Oh, shit!¡±

    His voice was raspy and weak, but the creature in the other cage heard him and stirred. He was some sort of monster or demon. At any rate, he fit the description of demons that Mitchell had grown up with. His skin was a coppery-red color and he had long black horns that curled around to the back of his head. As his eyes opened and met Mitchell''s own he saw that they were golden in color and they seemed to glow. Bisecting each pupil was a black slitted iris, just like a cat. His cheekbones were so pronounced that they almost looked like ridges of bone protruding from his skin and his nose was thin and came to a near point. His lips were black and as they parted and he began to speak, Mitchell saw white fangs where normal human incisors might be.

    ¡°Ava yorn, muthrak.¡± His voice was deep and rich and he didn¡¯t sound at all put out by their current imprisonment.

    Then, despite his best intentions, Mitchell started to retch. Overwhelmed by the movement of the wagon and the nausea from his head wound, his stomach contracted and he heaved. Not that there was much to throw up. It felt like hours since he¡¯d eaten. That didn¡¯t stop his protesting stomach, however. The more he heaved, the more the pressure built up in his head until he thought it really would crack open. Thankfully, he passed out before that happened.

    *****

    Mitchell awoke when warm water splashed him in the face.

    ¡°Rocen!¡± came a hard voice.

    Mitchell blinked and brought his manacled hands up to wipe the liquid from his face. He was so thirsty he almost sucked the water from his fingertips but they looked filthy and he couldn¡¯t quite bring himself to do it. They were no longer moving. Looking around, he saw he was still in his cage in the back of the wagon. His body ached even worse than before if that was possible, but the air was slightly cooler although the sun was no less bright. His head was still pounding but not quite as bad as before. Added to all that misery, his throat felt like he¡¯d been gargling with sand.

    The figure standing over him with a now empty ladle glared down at him. It was the same man who¡¯d hit Allora when they¡¯d arrived in whatever this place was but Mitchell could see him better now. He was of normal human size. His armor was a mix of black and brown straps, buckles, and patches of leather that had to be murder in this heat but, despite a face covered in sweat, the man seemed to be dealing with it well enough. He had a sword at his left hip and a dagger at his right and he wore breeches tucked into well-worn leather boots.

    The man said something to him that Mitchell couldn¡¯t understand. Mitchell just blinked at him and the man repeated himself, a little angrier this time. Allora spoke up then, saying something to him and the man sneered at her. His jailer then looked to the front of the wagon and said something else incomprehensible. In the silence, Mitchell turned to look at her, his head only swimming slightly. She turned her violet eyes to his and they gazed at each other for a long moment. Her pale skin was streaked with sweat and grime, she had a black eye and blood had run down from the back of her head along her jaw and dried in a dark line but she was still beautiful. The tilt of her eyes still gave her a bit of an alien appearance, but he thought he could pick up a deep sadness in her expression.

    After a few moments, another man appeared at the end of the wagon. He pulled himself up easily and stood next to the man with the ladle. He was outfitted in similar attire, sword included, and he had long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. It was then that Mitchell saw his ears. They were pointed and angled back slightly against his head and his eyes were a silvery blue that, despite the circumstances, Mitchell found beautiful. In the bright sunlight, the silver streaks in his eyes almost glinted. His shoulders were broad and his arms and legs were thick with muscle. He moved with confidence, like someone who knew what he was doing. He said something and then glanced at Allora who gave him a terse reply.

    As Mitchell stared at him, he held out a hand and Mitchell saw then that he had a glove on. But not just a regular glove. There were almond-sized gemstones embedded into the leather across the back of his hand, one just behind each knuckle. Mitchell saw a couple of them glimmer with an inner light that was noticeable even in the brightness of day and felt a tingle across his skin. Then the man with the pointy ears spoke again.

    ¡°Can you understand me now?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Mitchell croaked. ¡°Water, please.¡±

    God, he sounded pathetic, he thought. But that really was the most pressing thing on his mind. His lips were cracked and when he had reached up to feel them, his fingers had come away wet with blood.

    ¡°Give him some water.¡±

    The other man went over to a barrel that was tied to the side wall of the wagon and scooped out some water. The ladle easily fit between the bars of the cage. Mitchell leaned forward and grasped at it, drinking it down greedily. It was brackish and warm but at that moment it was life itself. He groaned in relief.

    ¡°She says you¡¯re not from here. Is that correct?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I¡¯m from¨C¡± he started to say Phoenix but realized that would probably mean nothing to him. If what Allora had said was true, he was no longer even on Earth. He remembered then that she¡¯d said they were in a different realm, whatever that meant. ¡°Another realm.¡±

    ¡°I guess you were who she went to retrieve. Didn¡¯t work out too well, did it?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    Even with the water, his throat was still scratchy and raw. It hurt to talk.

    ¡°Unfortunately for you, we didn¡¯t get to her before she dragged you along. Now your lot is tied to hers and, honestly, that¡¯s not going to be too good for you.¡±

    ¡°Look, if you just send me back, I¡¯ll forget about this whole thing. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on and whatever problems you have with her are between you two. They¡¯re not mine.¡±

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    The man gave him a pitiless smile and wobbled his head from side to side. Allora had done the same over their meal. How had things spun so out of control since their burger just a short time ago?

    ¡°The moment she found you, her problems became your problems. And now you¡¯re my problem. I don¡¯t like problems.¡±

    The man¡¯s hand went to his sword. It looked casual but Mitchell was sure it was meant to emphasize his point.

    ¡°My usual instinct is to stab my problems until they stop being problems and then leave them in a ditch somewhere. You get my meaning?¡±

    Mitchell nodded.

    ¡°We are supposed to bring her back alive and, if she had anyone with her, to bring them back, too. How alive you are when we get there is going to depend on how much of a problem you are to me and my men as we travel. It can go easy or it can go hard. If you piss me off enough I¡¯ll slit your throat and leave your body to rot and deal with the punishment afterward. She¡¯s the one Milandris really wants. You¡¯re just extra. You and the cambion, that is.¡±

    His jailer indicated the cage to Mitchell¡¯s left where the red demon sat motionless and without comment.

    Mitchell looked at Allora then and she was glaring at the big man, rage plain in every line of her face.

    ¡°And when we get there, this Milandris is going to kill me?¡±

    The man shrugged. That gesture appeared to be universal, at least.

    ¡°Probably. But that doesn¡¯t mean you need to suffer a lot before you die. If you try my patience, however, I will see to it that you do. I can chop a lot of pieces off of you without you dying and still fulfill the letter of my orders. So it¡¯s up to you. You be a good human and we¡¯ll let you out of the cage at night to sleep and make sure you get enough water and rations to survive. I can even pull the cover over the wagon and keep the sun from baking you during our daylight travel hours. It will save wear and tear on my gemstones since I won¡¯t need to heal the blisters. We¡¯ve got several more days of desert travel before we get to the southern road and cross into Awenor. Make my life or the lives of my men difficult and we¡¯ll tie you to the back and drag you until the sun blisters your skin and the sand peels you like an overripe lana fruit. Your choice.¡±

    Mitchell nodded. He didn¡¯t know what a lana fruit was, but the meaning was clear enough. He wanted to say something witty or smartassed but nothing came to mind. Being an asshole would just get him hurt. Mitchell wasn¡¯t a violent person but just then he wished for a gun. What would these medieval fucks do if he pulled out an AR-15? Never bring a knife to a gunfight, right?

    ¡°So, are you a problem, human?¡± The leader¡¯s voice snapped him out of his John Wick fantasy. ¡°Or are you going to obey and come along without trouble?¡±

    ¡°No problem,¡± Mitchell said, his voice cracking.

    The big man looked at him a long moment, then nodded to the thug with the ladle. ¡°Once you get the tents up, let them out and get them chained to the block. We¡¯ll set out again five hours or so before dawn.¡±

    The leader hopped off the wagon then and walked out of Mitchell¡¯s line of sight. Waterboy fished out another ladleful from the barrel for the cambion as the leader had called him, which he drank without comment, and then covered the water and went about his tasks.

    As they waited, Allora spoke to the cambion. He couldn¡¯t understand what she said but she sounded angry. The demon said something sullen in return, and Allora responded with what sounded very much like a curse. They were quiet after that. She was clearly angry at him, but he couldn¡¯t begin to guess why.

    Mitchell ignored them both, knowing there was nothing he could say that either of them would understand. They, in turn, didn¡¯t try to say anything to him. There was some sort of magic they could use to communicate with him if they wanted to. Allora must have used it on him back at Filmbar since she obviously didn¡¯t speak English. He remembered the weird conversation with Dane, the bartender. Mitchell thought he¡¯d been being an asshole at the time but now he figured he owed him an apology. Assuming he ever got back home, that was.

    As Mitchell pondered the situation, he determined that her magic must have been targeted. She had used it on him but it only affected him and not other people. And it had stopped working once they came under attack at her house. If that really was her house, Mitchell thought. Jesus fucking wept, this is a mess.

    While he waited for them to let him out, he took the time to examine his manacles again. They were a black stone material that appeared seamless as far as Mitchell could tell. They were joined by a short length of chain barely eight inches long with the iron links melded into the stone, also showing no indication of seams or of being worked. Etched into the stone was a geometric shape of some sort. Mitchell dredged up a memory of the fantasy books he used to read in high school and thought maybe they were runes. There had been similar designs on the doors at Allora¡¯s house and really complex ones on the floor of the master bedroom that she¡¯d used to bring him here.

    This one was repeated again and again all over the surface of the manacle. Even as he watched, it flickered occasionally. It was hard to see in the sunlight but he could just make it out if he shaded one of the cuffs with his other hand. As Mitchell watched, fascinated by the little sparkle of light that would zip along a line of runes every few seconds, he noticed that every time it did, his head would throb. His headache was directly tied to whatever flashing was going on with his manacles. He had been clubbed over the head not too long ago. He also felt a slight tingle wherever the bracelets came into contact with his skin.

    Mitchell had started to doze when the wagon rocked. Waterboy and a man that Mitchell hadn¡¯t seen before got up into the bed and walked towards Allora¡¯s cage. With a heave and a grunt, they brought it to the end of the wagon bed and hopped down. The new guy took a step back and drew a small axe from his belt and stood at the ready. Waterboy took out a key and slipped it into a lock on the front of the cage and the door swung open.

    No one moved.

    Waterboy spoke up. New Guy snapped back. Waterboy grimaced. If Mitchell had to guess, he would say the conversation sounded very much like ¡®Do it.¡¯ To which New Guy responded with ¡®fuck you, I¡¯m not doing it¡¯ and then Waterboy called him a pussy or whatever the equivalent was on this shithole planet.

    The men were clearly tense, but he didn¡¯t know why. She was bound, bruised, sunburnt, and bloody. Surely she was no threat to them. If she¡¯d had magic to use on them, she¡¯d have done it already.

    After a very pregnant pause, Waterboy reached in like he was trying to grab a snake before it could bite him and grabbed Allora by the collar, yanking her forward. The thin white shirt she¡¯d been wearing when they¡¯d been jumped ripped as she was pulled out of the cage and Mitchell watched as she tumbled head first onto the ground. He heard her body hit the sand with a muffled thump.

    ¡°Hey! Hey, there¡¯s no call for that! Leave her alone you fucking asshole!¡± Mitchell shouted.

    It had come out of his mouth before he even realized it. Ax Man was looking down at the ground at Allora who hadn¡¯t gotten up yet and didn¡¯t take his eyes off her. Waterboy did, though. Once again he said something in their language and even though Mitchell couldn¡¯t understand it, the tone was clear enough. Shut up.

    Mitchell fumed and his pounding heartbeat was doing his head no favors. He looked over at the cambion who sat watching the scene without reaction.

    ¡°A lot of help you are,¡± Mitchell muttered.

    Perhaps sensing the words were directed at him, the red creature turned his head ever so slightly and those reptilian eyes looked at him appraisingly. He said nothing however.

    From the rear of the wagon, Mitchell heard a series of sharp inhalations. Both men stepped back, Waterboy drawing his own sword and they watched the ground in front of them like something might spring up and rip their throats out. Instead, Mitchell saw Allora¡¯s head slowly come into view as she got to her feet. The labored breathing was coming from her as she struggled to stand after hours of being curled up in a box. Except for that bit of noise though, she didn¡¯t make a sound as she straightened her back and rose to her full height. She was nearly a full head taller than Ax Man and about the same height as Waterboy. There was a brief exchange between Waterboy and Allora and then she began to move. Stiffly, but she moved. They led her off somewhere to the side and Mitchell quickly lost sight of her.

    A few minutes later they came back, and the process was repeated. They hauled Michell to the end of the wagon bed, just as they had with Allora and he smacked his head more than once but didn¡¯t protest. They wouldn¡¯t understand him and likely wouldn¡¯t care if they did. The key was placed in the lock, and the door swung open. Both men stood at the ready as if he was going to lunge for them.

    Mitchell held his manacled hands up.

    ¡°It¡¯s cool, guys. We¡¯re cool,¡± he said in what he hoped was a calming manner. ¡°Be cool, honey bunny.¡±

    Remembering them throwing Allora to the ground, he began to move on his own power, letting his legs extend for the first time in hours. The pain was almost immediate and he couldn¡¯t stop the groan from escaping his throat. His muscles felt like they might tear. He reached up and gripped the top of the cage and slowly inched his way forward, his back and hip muscles protesting the whole way. His legs were going numb already and, despite his best efforts to stand on his own two feet out of the cage, his legs folded almost as soon as he put weight on them and he fell to his knees in the sand.

    His back was one big knot of pain as he tried to straighten himself. He groaned again and his breath came out in gasps as he fought to deny them the pleasure of seeing him suffer. If Allora could do it, so could he.

    After several agonizing breaths, the muscles in his lower back began to unclench and he could sit up almost straight. Moving his legs he managed to get both feet under him and, not quite able to suppress the groan of pain, stood on his own two feet. He was hunched, the muscles of his lower back a spasming ball of pain at the base of his spine, but he did it. His captors didn¡¯t look impressed.

    ¡°Well, fuck them anyway,¡± Mitchell thought.

    Waterboy indicated off to the side of the wagon and he could see a small tent had been erected near the front. As he hobbled forward on aching legs and stiff knees around to the front Mitchell got his first look at what had been pulling them and fouling up the air. It wasn¡¯t a horse. It had four legs, but that¡¯s pretty much where the similarities ended.

    It was some sort of reptile and it put Mitchell in mind of a komodo dragon. It was about as high off the ground as a pony might be and was covered in rough sand-colored scales. It had a wide body and its legs were thickly muscled with small spiky protuberances at the knee joints. He could make out wide flat feet partially sunk into the sand and could see long wicked looking black claws partially emerge as the beast shuffled slightly. It looked to be maybe eight feet long from head to tail but upon closer inspection, he could see that the tail had been cut short. It had red eyes with a black slit down the center, not unlike his cellmate.

    As Mitchell made his way to the tent the large creature eyed him with flat disinterest and then went back to what it was doing before, eating some unidentifiable furry creature. As he watched, it gulped the remaining chunks down and swallowed them without preamble. Mitchell guessed that it wouldn¡¯t be much effort at all for that thing to swallow him just as easily. Its mouth was wide and slightly pointed at the front and it had spiky horns around its nostrils, along its upper jaw, and around its eye line. Its meal consumed, a film slid over its eye before the eyelids closed and it settled down into the sand. It wiggled its body getting comfortable and then, suddenly, a hum emanated from its chest that vibrated Mitchell¡¯s insides. It was so low as to almost be beneath the range of his hearing.

    The sand around the creature started to ripple and vibrate, almost like it was boiling and he watched in fascination as it began to sink beneath the dunes. It wiggled and shifted slightly as its bulk moved lower into the ground and after just a few seconds the only thing visible was the horns of its nostrils poking just above the sand. The leads to the wagon had apparently been designed with this in mind as there was enough give in them to allow it to submerge completely below the surface without putting tension on the straps. The sand that now covered the creature was almost smooth. If he hadn¡¯t seen it he would never know it was even there. The skin texture and coloration of the scales and horns around its nose perfectly matched the reddish tan of the surrounding sands.

    If he hadn¡¯t witnessed it he never would have believed it. A vision of that thing exploding out of the sand to take down a passing creature flashed through his mind and he shuddered.

    ¡°Holy shit,¡± he muttered to no one in particular. Just then there was a shove into his shoulder and he stumbled forward a couple of steps but stayed on his feet. Turning, he saw Waterboy glowering at him and he kept moving forward.

    He was led over to a small covered area that had apparently been erected just for them. It was basically a cloth lean-to with an overhang. The whole thing was held up by four different poles that had been driven into the sand and there were some rocks holding down the back flap.

    He saw Allora laying on her back in the meager shade, her manacles now connected by a four-foot length of chain to a stone block near the back of the shelter. She looked to be already asleep. The white blouse she wore was ripped along one shoulder where Waterboy had grabbed her and yanked her out of the cage. The bruise around her eye was turning yellow and no effort had been made to clear the blood from her jaw.

    Waterboy grabbed a separate length of chain and Mitchell noticed then that it sported four such lengths, each sunk into the center of the stone. Waterboy grabbed his manacles then and placed the end of the chain to the center of his manacles and they fused. Just like that. They flowed together like liquid merging at the bottom of a bowl. He left then, not even giving the obligatory tug to check the connection.

    Mitchell wiped the sweat from his eyes and looked around. On the other side of the wagon about forty feet away was a larger tent where he could see three men going about some tasks. One was the leader, recognizable by the long ponytail. The two others he didn¡¯t recognize. Snippets of conversation drifted to him over the sand but it was incomprehensible.

    He was already exhausted but he knew he needed to move as much as he could. His legs were feeling better although his knees still ached a bit. The throbbing in his head was still present but not as intense. It was like a low-grade hangover headache at this point. He pulled at his chain experimentally, then walked to the edge of its length out past the protection of the covering and walked back. He saw the two men struggling with the cambion¡¯s cage. He looked much bigger so probably weighed a lot more. He took a fair amount of pleasure in watching them struggle to try to move the cage to the edge of the wagon. When he turned and looked back at Allora she was sitting and looking at him. Her face was flat and unreadable.

    ¡°You really need a shower,¡± he said, sitting down next to her. His voice was still raspy. ¡°You look like shit.¡±

    She looked back at him but said nothing.

    ¡°You¡¯re right. I¡¯m sure I look like shit, too.¡±

    He wanted to be angry with her. He wanted to yell at her and tell her how all this was her fault, but he found he just didn¡¯t have the energy. If they were going to die at the end of this road, he didn¡¯t want his last days to be spent yelling at someone who couldn¡¯t understand him anyway.

    As she turned and examined her surroundings she pushed some sweat-matted hair away from her face and Mitchell saw her ears then. They were pointed, just like the leaders, and angled slightly back against the sides of her head. Her earlobe was about an inch higher than a human ear and had small delicate folds. Allora wasn¡¯t human. That should have shocked him but with everything else that had happened recently, this was a minor thing. At least she didn¡¯t have green skin and tusks, he thought. And she was still heartbreakingly beautiful, pointy ears or no.

    Mitchell ran his hands through the red-tinged sand letting it fall through his fingers.

    ¡°I hate sand, you know? It¡¯s coarse, ro¨C.¡± Mitchell stopped mid-sentence and gave a feeble grin and looked sidelong at Allora as if she could understand the Star Wars joke. He wasn¡¯t going to do it. He wasn¡¯t going to make the easy reference.

    His captors had finally wrangled the cambion¡¯s cage to the edge of the wagon and they hopped down, gasping for breath.

    ¡°Si mi bivai.¡±

    Allora¡¯s voice was so sudden it startled him. She sounded apologetic. They shared a look but since Mitchell had no idea what she¡¯d actually said, he just shrugged and went back to sifting sand between his fingers.

    ¡°Yeah, I could go for another milkshake, too.¡±

    He decided to pretend they were having a regular conversation. ¡°They have a cookie dough one that¡¯s pretty good. I¡¯ll get you that one next time. Barbarella is playing next week if you want to go with me.¡±

    He looked back to her and she was watching his lips carefully.

    After a moment she said ¡°Mi¨C Mick shackeh.¡± She looked at him expectantly.

    ¡°Milkshake, yeah. Remember the ice cream? You drank it too fast and you got a brain freeze. I wish I had a photo, your face was priceless.¡±

    Allora brought her hands up to her mouth and mimed drinking from a straw. The chain clinked as she did so. ¡°Mik shake.¡±

    Mitchell chuckled. ¡°You got it.¡±

    She gave him a weary smile.

    Movement caught his eye and Mitchell saw their cambion companion being led over to their tent, as stiff-legged as they had both been. At the sight of him, Allora¡¯s expression hardened and she turned her face away. If it bothered the creature, he didn¡¯t show it. Or, at least Mitchell assumed as much given that he didn¡¯t know how to read his expressions. It was his first time dealing with a non-human¡­ Humanoid? He didn¡¯t know what to call something like that.

    The demon-like thing was taller than Mitchell by several inches and much broader in the chest. He was wearing a loose-fitting toga-like garment that cinched at the waist with a simple corded leather belt that also hooked across his shoulder. It was a cream-white color with gold trim and, though it wasn¡¯t much cleaner than either he or Allora, looked to be well made. His red skin almost glistened in the desert sun but he didn¡¯t otherwise look to be affected by the temperatures.

    Once Waterboy got the chain connected he went off to take care of other matters and they were left alone. There was no guard set, at least not at the moment, so they clearly trusted in whatever these security measures were. Allora and Big Red must have known it was pointless as well because neither attempted to get free. If they weren¡¯t attempting to do anything, he knew it would be a waste of time for him to try.

    The cambion walked around a little bit, stretching his legs just as Mitchell had done before he returned to the shade and sat down opposite Allora. Mitchell was now between the two and he felt like he was sitting between an arguing couple. They were working really hard not to look at each other.

    ¡°How you doing?¡± Mitchell asked him after several awkward minutes passed. He stuck his hand out to shake. ¡°I¡¯m Mitchell.¡±

    The creature looked at him and made a show of examining him from head to foot. Then he stared at the outstretched hand and cocked his head to one side. He then held out his hand and placed it in the air a few inches from Mitchell¡¯s, mimicking the pose.

    ¡°Revos,¡± he said, his voice deep and resonant. It kind of reminded Mitchell of James Earl Jones.

    ¡°Is that your name? Revos?¡±

    Mitchell brought his hand back since shaking hands was clearly not a thing here. He tapped his chest instead.

    ¡°Mitchell.¡±

    The big creature tapped his own very well-muscled chest and repeated, ¡°Revos.¡±

    From his opposite side, Allora sniffed audibly.

    He looked between the two of them. Revos just shrugged and lay back in the sand.

    He wanted to scream at someone, wanted to cry. He wanted a goddamned beer and a swimming pool. Instead, he laid back in the sand and stared at the canvas roof of their shitty little tent as it rippled in the hot breeze blowing across the dunes. His chains clinked as he lay back and he tugged at them angrily.

    ¡°Fuck this whole fucking place,¡± he muttered. ¡°Fuck magic, fuck beautiful girls with purple eyes and pointy ears, fuck swords, fuck giant lizard things, fuck big red demon-looking motherfuckers, and fuck the fucking sand. And especially fuck Waterboy, Ax Man, the other two fucks, and ponytail fucking Spock and his fucking problems.¡±

 Chapter 4

    The next several days passed in much the same manner. Despite their chains, a guard was set at night, but Mitchell got the feeling after that first evening that it was much more to do with what might be out in the wastes they traveled rather than whatever the prisoners might get up to. They were left in darkness as the sun finally set but there was some sort of fire across the way where their captors had set up their tent. Mitchell didn¡¯t know what they might be burning since there wasn¡¯t a tree as far as the eye could see. Some brittle scrub grass or tumbleweed-type things dotted the landscape periodically but it wasn¡¯t enough to keep a fire going. Probably something magical, Mitchell concluded.

    The food they were given was sparse but serviceable. It was some sort of strangely spiced meat that tasted a little like curry and some root vegetables. Thought a bit gamey, it wasn¡¯t bad, and he thought it best not to know what it was. He was hungry and it had calories and didn¡¯t send him running to a shallow hole in the sand, so it would do. They were given a few ladles of water with their meals, a few more before they set out in the very early pre-dawn, and usually one or two in the early morning or afternoon before stopping. It was inadequate but enough that they wouldn¡¯t die.

    The creature that pulled the wagon stayed in the sand the entire evening and didn¡¯t rouse itself until one of the group sat in the driver¡¯s seat and twitched the reins. The great beast emerged then, shedding sand in waves. It shook itself very much like a wet dog and, in a truly terrifying display, yawned. Its mouth opened almost as wide as Mitchell was tall and he saw a double row of serrated teeth, each one about the size of his thumb that all angled back towards its cavernous throat. It squealed, an almost cute sound if you hadn¡¯t seen it just yawn, and then shuddered slightly from head to tail before settling in and waiting for the command to go.

    One thing that blew his mind was the sky. For one, it had two moons. They were only visible together in the sky for a short period during the night. Usually one was close to setting while the other was rising. Their colors were subtly different as well. The first moon had a pale blue-gray reflection while the second was a little more yellow. But, in the cloudless skies under which they traveled, the effect was that the night was never fully dark. Mitchell was almost struck dumb by the beauty of the landscape in the light of the twin orbs. The dunes reflected the celestial glow and it looked like rolling waves of glittering gems as far as he could see.

    Allora saw him staring in awe that first night and had given him what he thought were the names. She¡¯d pointed to the blue-gray moon and said ¡°Ithstasy.¡± Then she pointed to the other horizon where the second one would rise later that night and said ¡°Vish.¡±

    Mitchell repeated the words, testing the foreign language out and Allora smiled at him and nodded.

    The night had been quiet and blessedly cool after the scorching heat of the sun and he¡¯d moved out from under the lean-to and laid where he could watch Ithstasy pass across the sky. It was so beautiful he almost wanted to cry at the sight of it.

    Later that night Mitchell was awoken by a soft voice. He turned his head and saw that Allora was on her knees and bowing. Her voice was hushed but the night was quiet and it carried. She was bent forward with her head pressed to the sand and her forearms flat against the ground. As Mitchell listened it sounded like she was repeating something over and over again. He glanced up at the sky and saw that the second moon had just crested the horizon and Allora was facing it head-on.

    He wanted to ask her what she was doing but also didn¡¯t want to interrupt. Plus, she wouldn''t have understood the question anyway, nor he her. The moment felt sacred, which was very strange to him because he¡¯d never been religious back home. Sacred was almost a meaningless term to him. As he watched Allora praying to Vish, however, it was the only word that he could bring to mind that fit.

    He may have been imagining it but he felt a presence settle over them. And there was also the fact that they couldn¡¯t communicate. Mitchell had never felt so alone in his life but he felt like something was with him then. He couldn¡¯t describe it but, as she prayed, he could swear it was there. He shuddered and laid back down. Watching her had started to feel like he was intruding on something that was meant to be private. His sleep was a little easier after that, though.

    *****

    Mitchell¡¯s days were filled with heat and silence. Allora and the cambion barely spoke to one another although, from what little Mitchell could discern, the demon-like creature was trying to apologize. For what, Mitchell still had no idea. His captors had some sort of magic to talk to him but except for that first time, their leader didn¡¯t have anything to say. The other guards or soldiers, whatever they were, didn¡¯t bother trying to talk to him, either. The occasional grunt or non-verbal cues to go here, stop, get out, get in, and go faster were all he got from them.

    There were five of them and Mitchell wondered if the ones they¡¯d met on Earth had been part of their squad. If so, they didn¡¯t seem too upset that three of their number were never coming back. There was the leader, whose name might have been Ivaran, but he couldn¡¯t be sure. The other ones seemed to call him that but it might also be a title. Then there was Waterboy, Axe Man, and two others whom Mitchell had dubbed Dumb Fuck One and Dumb Fuck Two. His nicknames were petty but it wasn¡¯t like he had much else to do as the hours in the cage went by.

    He wondered what the cops would have made of the big green one with the tusks that was missing an arm back in Phoenix. Surely, he was dead. He¡¯d been badly burned and then lost an arm to the gate or whatever it was that brought him here. How would that be explained? The guy was clearly not human. But then again, for all he knew, stuff like this happened all the time and it was routinely covered up by men in black going around with their memory erasers and clandestine organizations moving through the shadows. It put alien sightings and other strange phenomena into a whole new light. Maybe they weren¡¯t full of shit after all.

    Then he started wondering why they had magic here but not back on Earth. Allora had used magic but she wasn¡¯t from there. Maybe it was just something people from Earth couldn¡¯t use. But Dumb Fuck One was human - or looked it, anyway. He didn¡¯t have pointy ears like the leader did.

    Dumb Fuck Two looked like a smaller version of the guy with the tusks that had attacked them. His skin was a little grayer than green and his tusks were not quite as large but they were clearly the same species.

    For days his thoughts went around in circles but he always ended up back to thinking about home. He missed his friends, he missed his parents. He even missed his sister and her stupid juice cleanses and messages to him to try Reiki healing. He thought of how unfair it was that he was going to die in this alien hellhole and his friends and family would never have closure. At least if he¡¯d gone off to fight in a war he would have died doing something brave. Maybe even noble. But not here. Dragged before someone named Milandris, he was going to die like a whipped dog, executed for¡­ what? Mitchell had no idea. It really pissed him off, though. If he was going to die, he wanted to at least die fighting. That kind of thinking was probably what led him to get a beating on their seventh night of captivity.

    The sun had set and the camp was winding down. Dumb Fuck One and Pony Tail Spock were already in their bedrolls and Waterboy was bringing over their nightly serving of boot juice. Mitchell had started calling it that because it tasted like they kept the water in funky old boots before they served it. Waterboy carried the boot juice in a small cask with an open top into which he could dip the ladle which held about two cups, give or take.

    As they approached the lean-to Dumb Fuck Two made an apparently universal gesture of a bad smell, pinching his nose and pointing at the three of them. He cracked some joke that made Waterboy laugh. Waterboy, instead of offering a ladle full of water to Allora to drink, dumped it over her head instead. It ran down her scalp and turned red with the dried blood that had caked into her hair and soaked into the torn and filthy white blouse she was still wearing. Unfortunately, this had the effect of a macabre wet t-shirt contest, and Allora wasn¡¯t wearing a bra. Her nipples were on prominent display through the now pink shirt, a fact that their captors noticed.

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    The laughter cut off and both of them took on a more predatory stance that was all too clear. Waterboy stepped closer to Allora and grabbed her roughly by the chin and said something. It sounded lewd even to Mitchell¡¯s ears. On the other side of Mitchell, the cambion shifted his weight. Allora glared up at him from her position on the ground and her expression was like iron. Her purple eyes almost seemed to glow with the heat of her hatred.

    Waterboy said something again, squeezing her cheeks and shaking her head back and forth with enough force to rock her whole body from side to side. Instead of saying anything in response, however, Allora spat in his face. Mitchell had a brief moment to be impressed that she could not only work up enough saliva but that she could nail him in the cheek below his left eye from her position on the ground.

    Waterboy reacted almost immediately, backhanding her hard and knocking her to the sand. Mitchell had no memory of getting to his feet, but before he knew it, he was charging Waterboy and hit him low in the stomach, catching him on the shoulder and lifting him clear off the ground. The three of them had been close to the stone and he had just enough slack to follow Waterboy to the sand.

    ¡°You son of a bitch!¡± Mitchell screamed as he landed atop a surprised and gasping Waterboy. Mitchell had knocked the breath out of him. His moment of triumph was short-lived. Dumb Fuck Two was on him before he¡¯d even fully sat up. A large beefy hand grabbed him by the back of the hair and yanked him backward pulling him bodily off of the wheezing guard. Mitchell hit the sand, his neck already aching from being pulled back so hard and before he could rise, a kick landed in his stomach. The breath left his body in an explosion of rushing air that was quickly followed by him vomiting up the bit of food he¡¯d had.

    As he lay gasping, Waterboy got back to his feet. He was rubbing his ribs where Mitchell¡¯s shoulder had clipped him and he stood over him. He looked at Allora, who was just beginning to pick herself up, and then back at Mitchell. He smiled, but it wasn¡¯t a smile of joy. It was a vicious, cruel thing. He kicked Mitchell again and what little bit of breath he¡¯d managed to pull into his lungs left in a rush. He curled into the fetal position trying to protect his ribs as Dumb Fuck Two grabbed him by the back of the head once again and pulled him up to his knees.

    Through bleary eyes, he was able to see Waterboy¡¯s fist as it swung down and connected with his jaw. Mitchell landed in a heap, barely conscious. He struggled to stay awake, some part of him being determined to die on his feet but his legs didn¡¯t want to cooperate. Dumb Fuck Two picked him up again and, through the pain and disorientation, Mitchell heard Allora¡¯s voice screaming something. One eye wouldn¡¯t open and the other was blurry but Mitchell could see past the big men to where the other tent was set up and saw two hazy figures running toward them. Mitchell never saw who it was as the second punch from Waterboy sent him at last into blissful unconsciousness, the crack of his jawbone being the last thing he heard.

    *****

    ¡°Mitchell?¡±

    A voice intruded into the darkness. But towards the darkness was pain and Mitchell tried to pull back from it. He wanted to stay in the void. Nothing hurt in the void.

    ¡°Mitchell, rocen savern. Petranas rocen!¡±

    There was a panicked urgency to the voice and memories began to coalesce in his mind. The memory of Allora being manhandled by Waterboy, then the beating.

    Mitchell hadn¡¯t been in a physical altercation since his freshman year of high school. It was stupid at the time. He couldn¡¯t even remember what it had been about now. At the time, however, it had been very important and his teenage hormones had demanded satisfaction. It had been a clumsy affair between him and the other guy, with more punches going wild than landing, but his opponent had managed a couple of solid hits on Mitchell¡¯s face. He remembered that it had hurt but not as much as he had feared it would. Once he realized that getting hit wasn¡¯t that big of a deal, he was able to stop spending all his energy trying to avoid getting hit, had actually gone on the offensive, and won.

    This was not like that at all. When Waterboy had hit him it had felt like someone had struck the side of his head with a brick. It had hurt a hell of a lot more than the weak-ass punches the kid in high school had thrown.

    ¡°Mitchell, rocen!¡±

    A hand shook his shoulder and he finally relented. His head was clear enough now that he recognized the voice as Allora¡¯s. Her again. The source of all his pain and suffering in the whole world.

    ¡°What?¡± he snapped. His voice was thick and his jaw wasn¡¯t moving right. Then he had a moment of surprise that he could move it at all. He was almost sure Waterboy had broken it with that last punch.

    He opened his eyes and looked up to see Allora kneeling over him, her face creased with worry. Her violet eyes really did have a soft inner glow in the darkness. God damn, she was beautiful. In the glow of Vish, he could see fresh tear tracks through the grime on her cheeks. Her lip was also busted and swollen where Waterboy had backhanded her.

    The camp usually broke four or five hours before dawn to get as much travel as they could before the noon-day sun became too unbearable. He could hear the sounds of them getting ready to depart and knew what that meant. Any minute now they¡¯d come over to the block they were all chained to and lead them one by one into their cages for the day. Mitchell¡¯s muscles twitched at the mere thought of more hours spent curled up in one but the aches and pains in his head and stomach were clear evidence of what disobedience would bring. At that moment he hated everyone. He hated all of them and their whole fucking planet.

    ¡°Astahii get confen,¡± she said now that she could see he was awake.

    Allora titled her head and indicated the guards. Their larger tent was almost packed up and Dumb Fuck Two had gone to rouse the big beast that was only partially buried in the sand. The ground was a little rockier and it had had trouble fully submerging itself. But Mitchell was used to the routine by now. He had maybe ten minutes or so before they would be given their water, unchained, and led to the wagons to be locked up. Her meaning was clear enough. Wake up before they have to wake you up.

    Mitchell sat up and probed at his jaw experimentally. It was swollen along his left cheek where Waterboy had used his face for sparring practice, and it was tender. But, as he opened and closed his mouth, it wasn¡¯t broken. His teeth weren¡¯t lining up correctly and there was a bit of a slide as the jaw covered that extra millimeter or so but he could move it. His left eye was also puffy but not swollen shut. He was sure the damage would be worse. Waterboy had not held back.

    Allora reached up then to examine the wound and, on instinct, he flinched back from her. Her hand stopped and a hurt expression passed over her face before disappearing quickly.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± he asked her. His voice was cold and he didn¡¯t care. He was bruised, battered, hungry, thirsty, filthy, exhausted, and being carted off to be executed for reasons that would probably never find out. She was the reason for all of it.

    Her hand came slowly back to her side and she looked at him for a long moment. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. Without another sound, she stood and walked over a few feet before sitting back down to wait for them to be taken to their cages. She didn¡¯t look at him again. That was fine with him.

    Mitchell moved his neck about, testing the tightness of the tendons, and massaged them as much as he could with manacled hands. In his movements, he caught sight of the cambion. He was sitting as silently as ever but he was watching Mitchell very closely. His expressions were still unreadable to Mitchell but he got a sense that he disapproved of his sharp tone with Allora.

    ¡°Yeah, well, fuck you too,¡± Mitchell mumbled.

    As usual, the big creature said nothing. His golden eyes merely observed.

    On schedule, Waterboy arrived with the ladle. They took turns with the basic stuff like this but Waterboy had been on duty yesterday and from what Mitchell had seen so far, they didn¡¯t usually repeat the same chores each day.

    He ladled the water out to Allora, not on her head this time, and then he stepped past Mitchell to the cambion. When he got to Mitchell, he didn¡¯t immediately hand him the ladle. He looked at him for a long moment, and there was an angry glint in his eye. Mitchell saw him look at the damage his fist had done and grunted. In satisfaction or disappointment, Mitchell couldn¡¯t be sure. He scooped out a ladle full of water but didn¡¯t offer it to Mitchell. He looked him right in the eye and, with a smirk, poured it out into the sand. It absorbed into the dry ground immediately.

    ¡°Zarafar!¡± Allora swore.

    Waterboy didn¡¯t rise to the bait. He looked at Mitchell another few seconds, perhaps waiting to see what he¡¯d do, then glanced at Allora a few feet away. He blew her a kiss and sauntered back to the wagon, chuckling.

    ¡°Fuck.¡±

    It was all Mitchell had the energy to say.

 Chapter 5

    The next few days were pure hell for Mitchell, and that was saying something considering what he¡¯d already been through. If Waterboy was giving the water Mitchell could count on it being dumped out. It didn¡¯t matter if it was their morning serving, the afternoon when they stopped to set up camp, or before bed. He went from three servings a day to one or two. By the second day, his lips were cracked and bleeding again.

    Allora tried to help in what little way she could. If it was Axe Man or one of the Dumb Fucks, she would urge them to give Mitchell her share, and it worked. Once. It looked as if she¡¯d tried to explain that Waterboy was withholding the water and it must have had some effect because for the next couple of days Waterboy wasn¡¯t on water duty. He found other ways of taking his anger out on Mitchell, though.

    He¡¯d ¡°accidentally¡± drop his food in the sand. Or Mitchell would be shoved into his cage before his head was fully tucked in and he¡¯d add a new bruise to his collection. If Mitchell¡¯s cage was along one of the sides of the wagon and his fingers were in the bars when Waterboy walked by, he would smack them with his truncheon. After he lost a fingernail, he¡¯d learned to keep his hands inside the cage at all times.

    The morning after he¡¯d been taken off water duty, Waterboy had ¡°accidentally¡± tipped over Mitchell¡¯s cage as it was moved to the lip. What¡¯s a few more bruises added to the list, Mitchell thought as he limped over to their little tent, his muscles once again cramped after several hours in the cage. He contented himself with imagining all the ways he would kill Waterboy if he ever got the chance. As it turned out, someone else beat him to it.

    *****

    A shout woke Mitchell from a fitful sleep. He glanced up at the moons. Ithstasy was close to the horizon and Vish was already fully visible. They usually broke camp an hour or two after it rose. Mitchell sat up and noticed Allora and Revos already sitting and watching their guards intently. They shared a few words and Mitchell once again cursed his inability to understand.

    Dumb Fuck One was running back to camp and Pony Tail Spock came out from under the tent to meet him. There was an angry and animated conversation at which point Pony Tail Spock went running over a dune after Dumb Fuck One while shouting orders behind him. Axe Man came over to stand near them, axes in hand and looking a little groggy. He stayed outside the reach of their chains, and Mitchell had learned early on that although the block they were chained to wasn¡¯t very large, it was immensely heavy. He¡¯d seen a single guard pick it up after they were loaded into the wagons but Mitchell could barely budge it. So even though Axe Man was just a few feet beyond the reach of their chains, all of them together couldn¡¯t pull the block and attack him.

    Dumb Fuck Two took up position on the wagon with a bow in his hand and was trying to look everywhere at once.

    There had been a few random animal attacks in the time they¡¯d traveled but it hadn¡¯t been very serious. The ones that came into camp were these small four-legged creatures that looked like some sort of coyote, only smaller. But they moved in fairly large packs of five or ten. They seemed more like scavengers than hunters, and they appeared to be the main food source for the big lizard that pulled the wagon. Some nights, two or three of their captors would leave camp and come back a few hours later with various game animals and that served as the thing¡¯s dinner. And while he couldn¡¯t see their cook fires on the other side of the wagon, he was pretty sure it had been his dinner more than once as well.

    Mitchell had also spotted larger things moving over the dunes from time to time, things that looked like brothers or sisters to the lizard pulling the wagons. Once he thought he saw a scorpion the size of a car, but it was only a glimpse. None of the big things came near the wagons, though. As Spock and Dumb Fuck One went off over a dune he wondered if this was the result of an animal attack or something else.

    Revos said something to Axe Man but he¡¯d replied with what Mitchell had come to understand was ¡°shut up¡±. Whatever was happening they didn¡¯t feel like sharing. Axe Man paced around their lean-to, weapons at the ready, and everyone waited in silence. They didn¡¯t have to wait long.

    Dumb Fuck Two called out to Axe Man and everyone turned to the small dune that Pony Tale Spock and Dumb Fuck One had gone over. They were coming back dragging a body. It was Waterboy. They had him by the ankles and his body was limp as they pulled him across the sand. There was a short conversation and then everyone went into action. They were breaking camp.

    Allora and Revos shared a few words which ended when Revos shrugged. Allora turned her face toward Vish and placed her thumb and forefinger to her heart then to her lips, her forehead, and toward the moon¡¯s pale yellow visage in the sky. It had the feeling of giving thanks.

    Before long, it was their turn to be bundled up and there was a bit of shouting about something. As Allora was placed in her cage it turned out that none of them had the cage keys. They¡¯d been on Waterboy and, from the frustration evident on everyone¡¯s faces, his body had been looted. That meant it had not been an animal attack. Someone had killed him.

    They settled on cutting sections of a rope and tying the cages shut. With a crack of the reins, they were off in record time, pushing the big lizard as fast as it would go.

    As the wagon pulled away Mitchell caught sight of Waterboy lying on the ground. At the top of the dune behind them, he also spotted the little coyote dogs poking their heads over the ridge. As he watched, first one, then another, then six or seven more came pouring over the hill and descended on the corpse, their high-pitched whines carrying across the sand. He was glad that Waterboy was dead but he was equally glad that he couldn¡¯t hear the sounds their needle-like teeth were surely making as they ripped into his body.

    ¡°Get fucked, Waterboy.¡±

    Mitchell settled into his cage then and waited to see what would happen next.

    *****

    They pushed hard through the next day and only stopped when their beast of burden apparently refused to go any further. Mitchell heard the sounds of frustration as Pony Tail Spock worked the reins and tried to coax more movement out of the large lizard but after it bucked and almost flipped the wagon, he laid off and they set up camp. Everyone was in a foul mood.

    There was a bit of an argument about what to do with them. Mitchell guessed that it was a discussion about whether or not to set up their lean-to like normal or leave them in their cages. In the end, a compromise was made. Dumb Fuck Two brought out the block and they set it on the ground at the edge of the wagon then untied the cage doors and hooked them all to the block. It wasn¡¯t the most comfortable because they had to stay on the wagon bed to get any shade, but he supposed they wanted to be able to wrangle them quickly if they needed to leave in a hurry like they had this morning.

    Dumb Fuck One and Two went out to get some food for the lizard and Spock and Axe Man stayed behind and used the lean-to which they also set up next to the wagon. Everyone was tense. Allora and Revos attempted a brief conversation but Spock wasn¡¯t having it and told them to shut up immediately.

    The late afternoon passed with agonizing slowness. The Dumb Fucks returned with some food for the lizard and tensions eased a little, but not enough that conversation was allowed. They patrolled in pairs now whereas in the past they¡¯d felt comfortable alone

    Yet again, Mitchell wished he could understand what they were talking about. By his count, he hadn¡¯t had a conversation with anyone who could understand him in almost two weeks. He¡¯d taken to reciting songs that he could remember out loud just to hear his own voice. He received a few looks from Allora and Revos when he¡¯d done that but ignored them.

    Sometimes he would dredge up movie monologues. A favorite was Alec Baldwin¡¯s speech from the movie Glengarry Glen Ross. There was also Monty Python, of course. Like every college kid in the last forty years, he¡¯d spent nights around the TV with his buddies getting high, eating pizza, and watching Holy Grail or Life of Brian. Who would have guessed at the time that he was actually training for this moment when he would be totally cut off and isolated, unable to communicate with anyone around him and with only his memories for company?

    When he started reciting the scene where the knights are at the bridge being challenged with the questions three, he did the voices as well. He got a lot of looks from Allora and Revos then. No doubt they thought he was going crazy and maybe he was. The longer he sat there with no one to talk to but himself, the less sure he was about his mental state. It wasn¡¯t true isolation, but it amounted to the same thing.

    There would be no recounting of what the Romans had done for them now, though. Any noise that sounded like talking was met with immediate commands to shut the fuck up. At least that¡¯s how Mitchell interpreted it.

    That first night was uncomfortable, but there were no other attacks. They were given their food and water on schedule and set out in the pre-dawn on schedule as well.

    Because of the slow speed of the lizard pulling the wagon, the guards could follow along beside it without too much difficulty. Their usual arrangement was two on the seat, one on either side and one pulling up the rear. After dawn, when the sun began to warm things up, the ones in the seat would swap out with the walkers every hour or so to give them a rest and this would repeat until noon when camp was made. Now that Waterboy was nothing more than bleached bones and coyote dog shit in the world¡¯s hottest litter box, they were a man down. Two on the seat, one on either side of the wagon.

    It was just before dawn and Mitchell was in his own world singing Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley and thinking about how hot Madison had looked in her bikini on her Tinder profile when he heard a ¡°thwack¡± and a grunt. He looked up right as Axe Man fell into the side of the wagon, quickly dropping from view with the long shaft of an arrow sticking from the side of his neck.

    The cry went up almost immediately as they must have been on guard. The cart lurched to a hard stop drawing a grunt of annoyance out of the lizard. From the driver¡¯s seat, there was an explosion of light and sound that made Mitchell¡¯s ears ring. He watched as a bolt of blue-black lighting arced over the ground striking something about fifty feet away. The sand and rocks were still falling as he blinked away the after images of the magical attack enough to see.

    Mitchell craned his neck up to look back at the driver¡¯s seat and could see Pony Tail Spock standing up, arm outstretched and his face contorted in rage. Light was glimmering on the glove he wore. It wasn¡¯t the same kind of light that Mitchell¡¯s manacles gave off, though. The gemstones set into the leather were flashing brightly and almost seemed to pulse.

    ¡°Confen ek bok!¡± shouted Spock into the night.

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    Mitchell heard the sound of someone scrabbling under the wagon and then of a body being dragged. After a moment Spock glanced quickly to the other side of where Dumb Fuck Two had been stationed.

    ¡°Ui jaci nelith?¡±

    ¡°Axun¡± came Dumb Fuck Two¡¯s response from the ground.

    Spock snarled and blasted the same general area twice more.

    ¡°Bikil somati zarafar!¡±

    Mitchell caught movement from the corner of his eye. He turned and saw Allora making the same gesture with her left hand as she had before. Touching her thumb to her heart, her lips, her forehead, and then toward where Vish hung in the sky. He could see the barest hint of a smile on her lips.

    ¡°Get fucked, Axe Man,¡± Mitchell said. Quietly though, so as not to draw Spock¡¯s attention. Then he went back to Rick Astley and Madison¡¯s bikini photos.

    ¡°We¡¯re no strangers to love¡­¡±

    *****

    The camp was different that afternoon. They were let out to walk for about an hour or so, then placed back into their cages. There was also no guard set. The three remaining, Spock and the two Dumb Fucks, sat close together and Spock did something with his bracelet and a small opaque dome encircled them. It glittered faintly every time sand blew into it. If they were talking in there, the conversation was blocked by the barrier.

    Rather than feeling relieved to have them walled in their magic tent, he found he was nervous. He¡¯d seen big things moving in the desert and they were now without protection of any sort. The cages were sturdy but offered no refuge from anything that had claws or a stinger like those giant scorpions he¡¯d seen. If something large came at them, would his captors defend them or simply look after themselves? And if whoever was picking them off succeeded, what would they do with him and the others? Spock and the Dumb Fucks were no saints but as long as no one caused trouble, they were given food and water and left alone. Would they get an even worse deal from someone else?

    Mitchell shifted uncomfortably and tried to sleep. He hadn¡¯t spent more than eight hours in the cage since that first day and wasn¡¯t looking forward to trying to sleep now. It was going to be a long night.

    *****

    Allora leaned her head back into the corner of her cell and looked out across the horizon where Ithstasy would rise after sunset, followed by his sister, Vish. Feeling Vish¡¯s light was the only comfort she¡¯d had over this hellish trek across Iletish. It reminded her of her mother, who¡¯d been a moon elf.

    When she¡¯d been growing up she never put much effort into learning about the goddess of her mother¡¯s people. Theology wasn¡¯t as interesting as the sword or her magical studies at the academy. Her mother had tried to tell her that, as she was a moon elf, Vish would be there to watch over her in her times of need and that she should show more respect. Allora had replied that she was only half moon elf and Vish had too many full-blooded members of the species to look after to waste time on her. Her mother would cluck her tongue as she often did when she thought Allora was being foolish and kiss her on the forehead.

    ¡°Do not be so dismissive of Vish or presume to know her priorities. She sees more than you might think.¡±

    Allora had taken up praying since the coup as a last resort. She¡¯d had no friends and no allies. Her parents were dead, as were all her mentors, and the monarch had died in her arms. As she scampered through the streets of Lorivin that first night searching for a place to hide in the chaos, she¡¯d seen Vish peaking above the buildings of the capital city. Almost without thinking she fell to her knees, placed her forehead on the filthy cobblestones of that back alley, and prayed. It was the first time she¡¯d prayed since she¡¯d been a child.

    ¡°Lady Vish, goddess of my mother¡¯s people, this humble creature begs for guidance,¡± she had sobbed as her tears fell to the ground.

    Behind her, back toward the palace, there was fighting and death. The smell of smoke was thick in the air. The small black onyx was clutched in her hand, the thing she would need to fulfill the only true charge of an Onyx Knight.

    ¡°I know I am unworthy, having shunned the ways of your faithful and ignored the teachings of the moon elves, but I ask you ¡­ no, I beg you. Help me! Help me to find a way out so that I may protect your child and save Awenor. Please!¡±

    She heard the sounds of shouts a few streets over and cringed involuntarily.

    ¡°Please!¡± Her voice was barely a whisper.

    ¡°Who¡¯s that in front of my door? Git! Shove off!¡±

    Allora jumped and looked up. An old human woman was standing there, her head framed by Vish as her visage rose higher in the sky.

    The woman jumped slightly as Allora lifted her head from the fetid alleyway. She eyed Allora¡¯s ripped and bloody cloak, knowing immediately what it meant. No one would dare impersonate an Onyx Knight. Not in the capital itself.

    ¡°Child! What are you doing here? You have to get off the streets!¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± she swallowed as the sounds of soldiers drew closer. ¡°I do not have anywhere to go. Everyone is dead. The palace has fallen. The monarch has been slain.¡±

    Allora¡¯s hands were still wet with his blood.

    The woman¡¯s hand came up to her mouth and she uttered a short cry before collecting herself.

    "Well, get up! A knight only bows to the monarch, and that¡¯s not me. Come! Come with me, child. I know a place we can go. Quickly now, before they find you!¡±

    Her hands absently rubbed on the mage catchers at her wrists as she remembered that horrible night. Maddie had indeed sheltered her through those first few days after the coup, and it had cost the poor woman her life.

    The runes of the light spell flickered along the length of the manacles and she winced. The headache from the constant mana drain caused by the mage catchers had been with her for so long now she almost couldn¡¯t remember what it felt like not to have it. She longed to feel the power in her again, but as long as the manacles were on her wrists, she couldn¡¯t summon enough mana to light a candle.

    Allora looked over at Mitchell in his cage. He was sleeping fitfully, his body wedged into the corner and his legs bent, much the same as she was. Had she failed again? She tried to have faith, but she was so very tired. All she wanted was to rest and, at this point, if death was the only rest she could get, she might just welcome it. At least then, the pain would end. She would see her parents in the forests of Kaden and be sheltered by Vish¡¯s light for eternity. Her father had been a sun elf and it was said they went to the fields of Tirna after death, but surely Stollar would not keep them apart.

    The swelling had gone down in Mitchell¡¯s face since Balen had beaten him. Ivaran had only given him partial healing to repair his broken jaw and nose, which had cost him the final uses of the bloodstone in his sevith, and he¡¯d been none too happy. He¡¯d told Balen that the cost of the gem was coming out of his cut.

    ¡°Let that be a lesson to keep your hands off the prisoners,¡± Ivaran had told him.

    While that had kept Balen from beating Mitchell to death, he had taken his anger out in other, more subtle ways.

    Allora had wanted to thank Mitchell for coming to her defense but he wouldn¡¯t have understood her. She had tried to offer comfort, but he¡¯d rebuffed the attempt. The anger in his face had shocked her. Allora had deserved it, though. Ivaran had been right. They had him because of her. She¡¯d dragged him away from his home and his family against his will.

    Allora had wanted to convince him, to have him come of his own free will. The spell would not have chosen him if he wasn¡¯t a viable candidate, wasn¡¯t someone who would agree to follow her and become the ruler and protector of Awenor. But instead, they¡¯d found her. They¡¯d followed her to Earth and ruined everything. Now he hated her for what she¡¯d done.

    Allora¡¯s eyes moved from Mitchell to Revos who sat staring at nothing as he usually did. He barely fit in his cage and it had to be torture for him to be confined so, but she had no sympathy for him. He was the reason Milandris¡¯s men had found her on Earth. He was the one who sent them there after her. No doubt it was to save his own life and, if she was being honest with herself, Allora couldn¡¯t fault him for it. It was his nature and she¡¯d known what kind of person he was before seeking him out. Gilriel had warned her, but there¡¯d been no other choice. Revos looked out for himself above all. Self-sacrifice was not in his vocabulary. She understood his actions but that didn¡¯t mean she had to feel bad for him.

    ¡°Psst!¡± A harsh whisper snapped her from her thoughts, which were beginning to spiral as they often did these days.

    Allora jerked her head back around to the side of the wagon where she saw a cloaked and masked figure standing with its head just over the lip of the wagon¡¯s railing. Allora found that her eyes struggled to focus on the person. The edges of the reddish tan cloak it wore blurred and made it so the eye sort of slipped off as it tried to focus. It was enchanted, meant to help break up the wearer¡¯s form and conceal them. She¡¯d seen objects like it before. They weren¡¯t cheap.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s hairy asshole, you lot smell like week-old fish guts. Don¡¯t they let you bathe?¡± The voice, though low, was female.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Allora asked, ignoring the question.

    ¡°Time for names later. You want out or not?¡±

    Allora only considered for a second. This could be their chance.

    ¡°You are the one who killed Balen and Dokett?¡±

    ¡°Yep. Now, we don¡¯t have time. Out or not?¡±

    ¡°Out.¡±

    The figure nodded. ¡°Thought so.¡±

    Allora¡¯s sharp eyes picked up the flash of green eyes beneath the cowl.

    ¡°Now, if I let you out, you need to help me deal with Ivaran. You wouldn¡¯t be wearing those mage catchers if you didn¡¯t have magic and he¡¯s a warlock. I wouldn¡¯t stand a chance in a head-on fight. Do we have a deal?¡±

    ¡°I accept the terms. I do not have a sevith or a krisa, though,¡± Allora told her.

    ¡°I figured. You¡¯ll just have to do your best as I don¡¯t have any, either. What about stinky in the middle? The human.¡±

    ¡°He has power but is untrained.¡±

    ¡°And the cambion?¡±

    Allora turned her head and looked at Revos on the other side of the wagon bed. He was watching, naturally. An eager glint to his golden eyes.

    ¡°He is a powerful arcanist but his sevith has also been taken.¡±

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re what we got so we¡¯ll have to make do. Give me your wrists.¡±

    Allora held her wrists up to the bars and the woman¡¯s hand passed through and pressed a white stone to the center link of the chain. She¡¯d taken it off of Belan. It was probably why she killed him first. She¡¯d needed help.

    There was a brief flash of light and the manacles broke open along a seam that hadn¡¯t existed before. The constant drain on her mana subsided immediately and Allora couldn¡¯t suppress a groan of relief. Almost instantly, her head stopped throbbing and she felt her mana pool begin to refill.

    In the cage beside her, Mitchell started awake at the noise and blinked his eyes. He looked to Allora and then saw the hazy shape just to the side of the wagon. He looked about to speak but Allora held her finger to her lips and tried to will him to be silent. Thankfully, he understood.

    ¡°Here, take this.¡±

    The woman passed Allora a long stiletto between the bars, then gave her the key to the mage catchers.

    ¡°We¡¯ll have to wait until they break camp and come out of the protective shell. When they open the cage for your morning walk that¡¯s when you make your move. Not before. But do not kill Ivaran! I want him alive. Understand?¡±

    Allora nodded. She gripped the handle of the long-bladed weapon and felt the heft and balance of it. It was a well-made piece. It would do.

    ¡°When I see the one in the wagon go down, that will be the signal.¡±

    The figure ducked out of sight and, with an effort, she saw the hazy form of the woman crouched low as she moved silently over the sand. Even with superior vision, she lost sight of her after only fifteen feet or so. The cloak even hid her tracks. That would explain why Ivaran and the others had found no footprints after Belan had been killed on patrol. The woman was skilled at her craft. Allora wondered what she wanted of Ivaran but it didn¡¯t matter. Help had come.

    Settling back in she handed the small stone to Mitchell and indicated to pass it to Revos. He got the message and passed it off. It was a little awkward, but Revos managed to get the stone to the center link and the manacles snapped open. He too, stifled a groan and rubbed at his wrists.

    ¡°I half expected you to leave me chained,¡± he whispered across to her.

    ¡°Would you blame me if I did?¡± she retorted.

    ¡°Probably not.¡± He looked at Mitchell. ¡°What about this one?¡±

    ¡°I think we leave him for now. He will only get in the way. Likely, we will only get one chance.¡±

    It pained her to say it but it was true. He had no idea how to use his magic and, from what she¡¯d seen of his world, would be unable to wield a blade effectively, either. From images and depictions from the moving pictures they had on his world, they had some sort of small handheld weapons that spouted little bursts of flame from the tip yet still managed to punch holes into other people, even at a distance. She knew it wasn¡¯t magical but she had no idea how it was accomplished. If his people had ever used blades as weapons, they didn¡¯t any longer.

    ¡°We will release him after this is done. I should have enough mana soon to cast a rudimentary translation spell and explain it to him. It won¡¯t last long without my krisa, though.¡±

    Beside her, Mitchell was holding up his manacles and mouthing something to her that she couldn¡¯t decipher but it wasn¡¯t hard to guess. He wanted out too, of course. She held up a palm to him and tried to indicate patience. He glared but seemed to understand what she meant, even if he didn¡¯t understand the reason. He settled back into his cage with a huff.

    Allora settled in and pondered this new development. Everything hinged on their rescuer. Her accent pegged her as Awenorian. Low-born, if Allora had to guess, and from somewhere along the coast. Possibly Varset or one of the outlying towns and villages. But low-born or not, she was who Vish had sent. Now they waited.

 Chapter 6

    Mitchell¡¯s leg was bouncing and he tried to will it still for what felt like the thousandth time. Without the manacles, Allora was apparently able to use her magic. She¡¯d cast the language spell on him, although it appeared to exhaust her to do so, and said that there was going to be an escape attempt and he needed to sit patiently and let them handle it. He would only get in the way.

    He fumed at her words, even more so because she was right. The spell hadn¡¯t lasted long but she¡¯d conveyed the basics. They would strike when let out for the morning walk. If all went according to plan, they would be free before the sun rose. So Mitchell sat and hated himself a little for being unable to contribute. He knew he shouldn¡¯t feel bad. This wasn¡¯t his world, and people from Earth had no need for swords and had no concept of magic. He¡¯d be cut down in a moment by one or the other without the knowledge to defend himself. He knew it but he was angry just the same.

    Sleep was impossible so he waited. He occupied himself by swatting at the little fleas that liked to feed on their blood. One good thing about being in the wagon is that they were up out of the sand. The fleas were worse when he¡¯d slept on the ground. He¡¯d woken up every morning itchy. Luckily, the itching didn¡¯t last too long.

    But, while the little bastards couldn¡¯t fly, they could apparently jump and they weren¡¯t as bad up here but enough of them were motivated to hop up into the wagon for a snack. So as the minutes crawled by he busied himself with smashing the little pests when he felt them on his skin or caught one crawling up the leg of his filthy pants. While he smashed them he sang the words to Black Sabbath¡¯s War Pigs to himself.

    ¡°Evil minds that plot destruction!¡± Squish. ¡°Sorcerer of death¡¯s construction.¡± Squish squish.

    Ignoring the looks he got from Allora and Revos for his odd behavior, he once again said a silent word of thanks that his parents had been so into music as he was growing up. They¡¯d met at the now legendary Nirvana concert at the Paramount Theater in Seattle in 1991 and were still rocking out to this day. Music had always been present in his house and he had a large repertoire of several genres from which to choose. It was surprising how much he could remember now that he had nothing to do but recall the lyrics.

    He was in the middle of Pearl Jam¡¯s Do the Evolution when he heard the first sounds of their jailors rousing. His song cut off immediately. He didn¡¯t know what the plan was exactly but he knew he wasn¡¯t part of it. He did his best to look asleep as they set about the morning tasks. From the corner of his eye, he saw Allora arrange the manacles so that they looked like they were still on her wrist and feigned sleep just as he was.

    As Dumb Fuck Two pulled himself up into the wagon Mitchell¡¯s heart started pounding so hard he thought for sure the big gray thing would hear it. What if they had superhuman hearing? He didn¡¯t know. What if he got suspicious about why his heart was beating so fast? What if he could smell the fear?

    He did his best to control his breathing and appear to rouse naturally from his cramped slumber. Dumb Fuck paid him no mind, moving first to Allora¡¯s cage. Mitchell sat up and looked around, making a show of examining their surroundings. He craned his neck and spotted Pony Tail Spock and Dumb Fuck One stowing the lean-to and drinking water. They were watching the landscape warily. They didn¡¯t know what Mitchell knew but they weren¡¯t stupid. They knew someone was picking them off and were on guard.

    Spock had some sort of shimmering field around himself that made Mitchell think of the personal force fields that had been described in Dune. Despite how much he hated his situation and hated them, this magical stuff was seriously cool.

    Dumb Fuck Two began to untie the rope holding Allora¡¯s cage shut. Once the rope slipped free he swung the cage open and stepped back. Allora didn¡¯t move. Mitchell¡¯s leg began bouncing again and he grabbed onto it with both hands to hold it still. Dumb Fuck didn¡¯t notice. He was staring at the open cage waiting for Allora to crawl out.

    He said something, probably some variation of ¡°let¡¯s get a move on¡± and Allora didn¡¯t respond. His tone became more threatening and she merely glared at him.

    She¡¯s waiting for him to reach in, Mitchell thought. She wants to be yanked out, she wants him to come in close. He had to remind himself to breathe as he attempted to look casual. He felt like his act was so obvious that there might as well be a neon sign above his head proclaiming ¡°This guy knows shit is about to go down!¡± It must have just been the panic, though because Dumb Fuck still didn¡¯t even glance at him.

    Finally, with a small snarl, he reached into the cage and went for the link of the chain that was just visible between her legs, meaning to grab it and drag her out of the cage. It was what Allora had been waiting for. With a move so fast he almost didn¡¯t see it, her hand was around his wrist, having never been in the manacles. She¡¯d twisted it seam-side down so it looked like it was still closed and had tucked her arms up against them, wrists bent, so it looked like her hands were tucked between her legs. It wouldn¡¯t have passed a close inspection but their captors were nervous and jumpy and they weren¡¯t paying close attention.

    Dumb Fuck Two grunted in surprise and looked in shock at the now free hand around his wrist. Mitchell saw his eyes widen and he began to pull in a breath to shout an alarm. But before he¡¯d even finished his inhalation, the stiletto came out in Allora¡¯s other hand and she buried it almost to the hilt under his chin. His body seized and a spout of blood erupted from his mouth but, except for a couple of grunts, he died in silence.

    With the blade still lodged in Dumb Fuck¡¯s Skull, Mitchell watched in horrified fascination as she lowered his twitching form to the wagon bed and began to crawl out.

    ***

    Allora glanced around to see if the small noises he¡¯d made as the blade pierced his brain alerted Ivaran or the other one but they were deep in conversation. Their eyes were focused on the sandy hills watching for signs of attack and they weren¡¯t expecting anything from the wagon bed. So far, so good.

    Her body ached from being in the cage overnight but she pushed through the pain knowing this was their only chance. Whoever their mysterious rescuer was, she was working alone or she wouldn¡¯t have needed the help of exhausted and malnourished prisoners to carry out whatever mission she was on. If Ivaran saw Allora before this woman made her move, she¡¯d have little chance against him. Without a sevith or krisa to focus her mana, she¡¯d burn through her reserves far too fast to be able to match him in a magical fight. She trusted her training but, one-on-one without her gear, he¡¯d rip her to pieces.

    She glanced to the side to see Revos working at the knot on his ropes and, crouching low, she moved past Mitchell¡¯s cage and slipped the blade between it and the bars. She stifled a groan as her back protested at the movement.

    With a quick yank, the rope was cut, falling away softly to allow the cage door to swing free. Almost in the same instant, there was the sound of an arrow striking the wood planks of the driver¡¯s seat. Two voices shouted simultaneously and the fight began.

    Peeking over the lip, Allora saw Ivaran and the other one¨Chis name was Fellock she thought¨Cstaring out at a clump of bushes about sixty feet away. The arrow that was meant for Fellock was sticking out of the side of the wagon a few inches from his head. She¡¯d missed!

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    Ivaran was raising his sevith, the stones already glowing. If he hit the bush with the arcane lance he¡¯d used yesterday and the woman was still there, there wouldn¡¯t be much left of her. No time to worry about it now. Legs quivering, Allora vaulted over the railing aiming for Fellock¡¯s back.

    He reacted faster than she¡¯d expected. He must have sensed her coming or heard something. While she was still in the air, he started to turn, his blade already coming up, and instead of landing squarely on his back to drive the knife down into his ribs, Allora hit him in the shoulder and her weight drove them both into the ground where they landed with a grunt.

    Above and behind her, the night exploded into brightness as Ivaran got off his spell. The sizzling sound of the arcane bolt lancing through the air was quickly followed by the sound of an explosion as it struck the ground around the bush.

    Allora¡¯s ears were wringing as she struggled to control Fellock beneath her. He moved like a snake, twisting and trying to get leverage on her. She attempted to stick the knife in his neck but he got an arm up and he was able to turn the point aside with the bracer at his wrist. Her body was sluggish and stiff after days spent in the cage with just enough food and water to keep them from dying. She could already feel her strength failing. She had to end this fast.

    His body came around fully and she tried to stay atop him. If he managed to get her beneath him, it wouldn¡¯t go well, not as weak as she was. She brought the blade down, again going for his throat and he cursed as he brought his arms up to block her.

    ¡°You fucking bitch!¡± he spat as she brought her weight down on him. He was strong for a human. Her muscles began to fail and her arms quivered as he tried to push against her. From the corner of her eye, she saw Revos fire a spell at Ivaran and it struck his shield, sending him staggering.

    Despite her bringing her full weight on him, Fellock began to raise her up. The tip of the blade that was just inches from his throat began to move away. Sweat was pouring off her as she strained to pierce his flesh.

    ¡°You¡¯re gonna die, bitch,¡± Fellock grunted. ¡°Fuck carrying you all the way to Milandris. We¡¯re going to gut you here and feed you to the clorvol.¡±

    He pushed her up another inch. A little more and he¡¯d have the leverage to flip her off. Behind her, another spell fired. She didn¡¯t know if it was Revos or Ivaran and she couldn¡¯t break focus to check. As much as she didn¡¯t want to do it, she was going to have to use a spell. Without her krisa to focus the mana, it would be wild and likely to hurt her as well, but she had no other choice. Allora formed the spell in her mind.

    ¡°No,¡± Allora grunted. ¡°You will not.¡±

    She released the spell.

    Without her krisa her whole body acted as the focus and she felt her mana reserves drop sharply as the energy of the spell left her body and poured into his.

    The shocking touch spell was meant to disable and disarm an opponent and was not meant to be used while you were on top of someone. It would feed back into the caster, just as it was doing now. Their clothes offered some protection so she didn¡¯t get the full force of the spell but it was enough to cause her body to seize and she felt her hands go rigid around Fellocks, locking them together.

    They were both screaming through clenched teeth as she let the spell burn through her mana. Allora held nothing back. She could smell the scent of burnt hair and didn¡¯t know if it was hers or his that had begun to smolder.

    After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, the spell faltered, her mana depleted. Both of their muscles released. Unfortunately for Fellock, she was still bearing down on him with the knife pointed at his throat. Without his strength to hold her up, she collapsed onto him and she was dimly aware of the knife sliding into his throat as she struggled to remain conscious. She felt him thrash and try once more to move her off of him but his body was just as unresponsive as hers was at the moment. She couldn¡¯t even manage enough control over her muscles to roll herself off of the dying man.

    He gurgled as the air escaped from the new hole she¡¯d placed in his body and then he went still.

    She lay gasping, her head next to his, almost in the sand, and felt the blood from his wound running down her cheek. She could smell the stink of his body odor and the acrid scent of burnt flesh still hanging around them. Through the pounding headache that always accompanied full mana drain, she could hear the sounds of Revos still fighting with Ivaran.

    Ivaran cursed and there was another spell. She heard a deep grunt and then there was an explosion of fire magic. She felt the heat wash over her as she picked up her head.

    Revos was standing a ways off from her, and the tips of his horns were glowing red. She could see he was favoring one leg. His hand was outstretched and from the tips of each finger, a thin tendril of fire jetted out and combined to form one thick bar of flame that struck Ivaran¡¯s shield. It washed over the shield and she could see the strain he was under as he tried to maintain concentration and ward off the magical attack. Ivaran wouldn¡¯t be able to spare any additional mana to cast a spell while focusing all his energy in this way so it would just be a matter of who ran out first.

    However, Revos was a cambion, a demon race, and fire was his birthright. He didn¡¯t expend mana the same way when he used fire magic as she or Ivaran would. If the legends were true, he could pull additional mana from his own bloodstream. But wherever he drew the power from, he outlasted Ivaran.

    Accompanied by his cry of rage, his shield cracked, then shattered. The force of its failure under an assault would have been bad enough and would have knocked any mage on their ass, but without the shield holding back the flames, they found his skin instantly and his cry of rage turned into a wail of agony as his body began to burn.

    Revos ended the spell immediately but the damage was already done. She saw Revos sag as his hand came down to his side. Ivaran collapsed to the ground and didn¡¯t rise. Smoke rose from his body and flames licked along the leather of his armor in a few places. Revos turned and looked at Allora just as she found the strength to roll off the dead man.

    Revos stood over her as she breathed heavily. The orange glow from the tips of his horns was beginning to fade and his eyes glimmered in Vish¡¯s light.

    ¡°Do you two need a moment alone?¡± His voice was calm and casual as if he hadn¡¯t just spent the last two weeks in a cage crawling across the desert. Asshole, she thought.

    ¡°Help me up,¡± she groaned.

    He reached down and took her hand, pulling her easily to her feet. She stumbled and fell into him and he had to guide her as she walked. He was leading her around to the back of the wagon when they heard the sound of footsteps. They looked up as the woman who had helped them escape materialized from the pale darkness. She pulled her cowl down and took off the mask that covered the bottom half of her face. Doing so ended the blurring effect on the rest of the cloak. Her edges became firm once again and Allora didn¡¯t have to struggle to keep her eyes on the woman.

    Without the cowl and mask, Allora got her first real look at their savior whose hair was long, dark red, and pulled into a tight ponytail. Her skin was especially pale in the moonlight and Allora could pick out a splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She had full soft lips that framed a sensual mouth. Her eyes were an emerald green and they took in the situation with calm efficiency. The three of them stared at each other for a moment. Then the woman turned to look past the carriage to where Ivaran lay still smoldering in the sand.

    Moving her gaze to Revos, she asked, ¡°Is he dead?¡±

    Without looking, Revos replied, ¡°Probably not. I imagine he will wish he was once he wakes up, though. Demon fire is nasty business.¡±

    The woman¡¯s excited eyes locked on something behind them.

    ¡°Do you mind?¡± she asked, directing the question to Allora.

    Allora turned to see what she was indicating, seeing the discarded mage catchers on the bed of the wagon in front of what had been her cage.

    ¡°Help yourself.¡±

    The woman walked around to the edge, snapped them up, and walked purposefully over toward where Ivaran lay in the sand.

    Allora and Revos watched her go. She approached his body and then kicked him over onto his back. In a moment the mage catchers were around his wrists and locked shut. They glowed intensely as the light spell runes carved into the manacles began to pull the mana from his body and repeat in an endless loop until his reserves were drained. Until someone used the key to disrupt the mana flow between the two bracelets, the mage catchers would use the caster¡¯s own mana to seal themselves and bleed any spare energy from the prisoner¡¯s body. Simple, yet brilliant.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think she likes him very much,¡± Revos said as they watched the woman grab Ivaran by his pony tail and start to drag his body closer to the wagon. He was large and the woman was struggling but her face was a mask of grim determination and she did not ask for help.

    Mitchell yelled something then and they both turned to see him still sitting in his cage.

    ¡°He¡¯s your charge,¡± Revos said and went over to start looting the bodies.

    Allora climbed into the wagon on shaky legs and cut the rope to free him and then got the mage catchers off him. As he crawled out she turned toward Vish and bowed, saying a prayer of thanks to the goddess.

    They were free.

 Chapter 7

    Mitchell looked at the carnage around him and didn¡¯t quite know what to think. On the one hand, these men had abused them, kept them in cages, and were taking them to their deaths. But, on the other hand, they¡¯d just been brutally killed. Well, two of them anyway. The leader was still alive wearing the manacles and tied to the side of the wagon.

    In his mind¡¯s eye, he could still see the fount of blood that had erupted from Dumb Fuck Two¡¯s mouth as Allora stabbed him under the chin. He had deserved it as far as Mitchell was concerned, but he¡¯d never seen anyone killed before. Videos on the internet were one thing. Watching a man twitch and die a foot from you was different altogether.

    Around him, things were settling down. Allora was digging in the compartment under the driver¡¯s seat, Revos was resting up against the wagon wheel, chewing on some of the dried meat having taken everything of value from the two dead bodies and placed it on the edge of the wagon. The new woman was squatting at the unconscious leader¡¯s feet staring at him, the stiletto she¡¯d lent to Allora to aid in the escape held loosely in one hand.

    Mitchell studied her as she eyed him. She wasn¡¯t as tall as Allora and she appeared human. Her red hair had the color of wet blood as it shimmered in the light of the planet¡¯s second moon. She had a lovely face that looked too young to wear the expression of cold murderous rage it now did as she stared almost unblinkingly at her prisoner.

    She had a strong¨Cthough not masculine¨C jaw. Her cheekbones weren¡¯t as high as Allora¡¯s but were still prominent. The woman¡¯s nose was thin and slightly upturned and her lips were thinner than Allora¡¯s. They were also turned down with a scowl and Mitchell wondered what this guy had done to her.

    From the front of the wagon, Allora made a sound of triumph and lugged a long chest free. As Mitchell watched, she slid it from some bindings and, though it looked heavy, she set it down rather easily. She reached back into the space beneath the seat and brought out a small ax. Mitchell recognized it as belonging to Axe Man. She swung it down and Mitchell heard the distinct sound of snapping metal. Revos looked up from his silent contemplations as well. He said something to her as she raised the lid, but she didn¡¯t answer. She dove in, tossing a few things to the ground beside her, one of which looked suspiciously like his cell phone. Then she finally pulled the object she¡¯d been searching for free from the bottom.

    It was a sword. As she brought it out of the box Mitchell saw that it was nearly as long as the chest and it must have been taking up the full length on the bottom. She got to her feet a little shakily and held the sword, still in its scabbard, out in front of her. The damn thing was nearly four feet long. The scabbard was made of a dark black wood bound in leather and spaced along the sides were small purple gemstones that glittered in the moonlight.

    Mitchell saw then that Allora was crying. Tears dripped from her eyes, but she paid them no notice. Almost reverently, she drew the sword and set the scabbard back into the chest. Mitchell didn¡¯t know much about swords besides what he¡¯d seen on some YouTube videos but this one looked as deadly as it was beautiful.

    The blade shone so brightly in the moon¡¯s light that it almost seemed to have an inner fire. He could see a broad fuller cut down nearly the full length of the double-edged weapon that ended in a ricasso that had a small black stone set into it. The guard was a simple yet elegant ¡®T¡¯ shape with another black stone set in the center. The grip was covered in black leather and a ball rested at the pommel. Even the new woman turned to watch and Mitchell saw her eyes go wide as she took in the blade. She muttered some sort of curse as she stood up suddenly and took a step or two back as if she wanted to run.

    Allora only had eyes for her blade. She touched the steel to her forehead and Mitchell saw her speak but it was pitched too low for him to hear. After a moment she sniffed, then grabbed the scabbard and resheathed the sword in one fluid motion that spoke of thousands of repetitions. She set it on the ground and began to dig through the rest of the things in the chest. After a few moments, she came out with a headband that she slipped onto her head. He recognized it as the same one she¡¯d worn when they¡¯d first met. She pulled something else and tossed it to Revos. It was a glove, similar to the one that the leader had been wearing although this one had several more stones in it and looked to have gold and silver filigree connecting them as well.

    Revos grunted in satisfaction and slid it over his large clawed hand. Once he had it on, he flexed his fingers and Allora said something to him, not taking her eyes off the chest. Revos turned to look at Mitchell and then held his newly gloved hand out. Before Mitchell thought to be concerned, a couple of the stones on the glove glowed and he felt a familiar sensation washing over him. It tingled slightly, almost like when someone gives you head or back scratches and finds just the right spot.

    ¡°That was a full comprehension spell so you should be able to talk to all of us now,¡± Revos told him. ¡°At least for the next hour or so.¡±

    Mitchell shivered a little, still not used to having magic cast on him, but nodded.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± he said.

    ¡°Wait,¡± the new woman said. ¡°You can¡¯t speak Common? Where are you from?¡±

    Mitchell looked to Allora who was examining the contents of a pouch she¡¯d pulled from the chest and then to Revos, who only shrugged and went back to chewing on the dried meat.

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­¡± Mitchell wasn¡¯t sure how to explain it so told her the simple truth. ¡°I¡¯m from a place called Earth.¡±

    He nodded his head towards Allora.

    ¡°She brought me here through a portal or something. I don¡¯t know how it works. We don¡¯t have magic where I live.¡±

    ¡°Well, that would explain your strange clothes.¡± She made a point of looking him up and down. ¡°I¡¯m Lethelin Ne Forlia.¡±

    The woman, Lethelin, held her hand up, touched the tip of her middle finger to the spot just between her emerald green eyes, and gestured out, almost like a salute but her hand was vertical, not horizontal.

    ¡°I¡¯m Mitchell Allen.¡± Mitchell mirrored the gesture somewhat awkwardly. ¡°Nice to meet you.¡±

    Revos paused mid-chew, his dark lips forming a smile.

    ¡°Your name is Lethelin?¡±

    An annoyed look passed over her features and she seemed about to speak but Allora came over then, holding her newly recovered blade and a few small bags. She was standing a little taller now that she had her sword back.

    ¡°I think introductions are in order for all of us,¡± Allora said to this new woman. ¡°And then we can see to your injuries.¡±

    Allora pointed to Lethelin¡¯s arm and, upon closer inspection, Mitchell noticed a decent amount of blood that had dried on the sleeve. It had been partially hidden by the cloak she wore, and he hadn¡¯t seen it before Allora mentioned it.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be okay. I hadn¡¯t moved far enough away when he fired that lance at me. It¡¯s just some cuts from a few shards of rock.¡±

    ¡°Nevertheless, we have healing magic. It is the least we can do.¡±

    ¡°Suit yourself,¡± Lethelin said and shrugged.

    ¡°I am Allora De Annen and I am in your debt.¡±

    Mitchell sensed a shift in her tone when she said it. There was a formality to her speech that hadn¡¯t been there before. Her body was stiff and her eyes hard as she stared at the woman responsible for their rescue.

    ¡°If a day comes when you need my aid, I am honor-bound to give it. I make this pledge on my power and in Vish¡¯s holy light. Speak your need, and it will be done.¡±

    Lethelin looked stunned.

    ¡°That¡¯s really not necessary,¡± she stammered. ¡°A simple thanks is enough. I didn¡¯t come here to save you. I only let you out so you could help me get him.¡±

    Revos spoke up from the ground.

    ¡°You would turn aside a vow from an Onyx Knight?¡±

    The woman looked like a cornered rabbit. ¡°No! I¡­ Well, first off, I thought the knights were all dead. And, secondly, I don¡¯t want to get involved in whatever it is you¡¯re all involved in.¡±

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    Her attention shifted back to Allora. ¡°If you really are a knight then you¡¯re a walking target.¡±

    Allora pushed on, ignoring Lethelin¡¯s protests.

    ¡°If Ivaran had made it to the southern road, likely we would have lost any chance for escape. So, whatever your reasons, I thank you.¡±

    She paused then and glanced sidelong at where Vish was making its lonely nighttime journey toward the far horizon.

    ¡°And, Lethelin,¡± she paused, giving a similar smirk as she said the name. ¡°I suspect that even though you may wish to travel on once your prey is dealt with, Vish has other plans for you.¡±

    Mitchell wondered what it was about her name that amused them so much, but there was no time to ask.

    Lethelin grimaced.

    ¡°Stolar¡¯s swinging balls woman, don¡¯t say things like that! The last thing I need is to get involved in holy quests!¡±

    Allora didn¡¯t respond, giving the woman a small smile. She then brought her gaze over to Revos and waited with an air of expectation. Revos caught the look and grunted, swallowing down the last of his jerky before getting to his feet and standing to his full height.

    ¡°My good lady Lethelin, I am Arcanist Revos Naxus of Clan Heart¡¯s Blood, and I am at your service,¡± he said, his voice somber. He executed a textbook bow and flourished his hand as if he were wearing a cape and intended to throw it over his shoulder. ¡°I thank you most humbly for saving my life.¡±

    It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but Mitchell thought Lethelin blushed slightly, maybe at the formality.

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, Arcanist.¡±

    Revos stood back up then and gave her a dazzling smile. ¡°Please, call me Revos.¡±

    Revos touched his hand to that spot on his forehead and gave Lethelin the salute.

    Introductions out of the way, Allora went over to Lethelin and offered to heal her.

    ¡°I have only a minor skill in healing but it should be enough for this.¡±

    Lethelin nodded and submitted to Allora¡¯s touch. Mitchell watched in fascination. After Allora took her hand away the open, slowly seeping wound was gone. The coagulated blood still remained but Mitchell was sure that if it was washed away he would see fresh, unmarred skin.

    Allora then went to Revos and healed the wound he had taken in the leg during his fight with Ivaran, then he healed her of her scrapes and bruises.

    ¡°Why can¡¯t you heal yourself?¡± Mitchell asked.

    ¡°It does not work,¡± Allora answered. ¡°Trying to use your own healing magic on a wound just results in the spell failing and the mana sliding off like ice on a hot blade. No one is quite sure why.¡±

    ¡°It has to do with the vibrational frequencies,¡± Revos said around another mouthful of jerky.

    ¡°That is one theory,¡± Allora said, but she didn¡¯t sound convinced.

    Over the next hour, they indulged in a little extra food and, more importantly, washed. Mitchell found out how they¡¯d been staying hydrated. The water barrels were enchanted! Revos explained that runes carved along the lids would slowly drip water into the barrels allowing them to refill over time. The runes were crude, Revos had said, but worked well enough. Moreover, now that there were only three of them instead of the original eight with which they¡¯d started had a lot of extra water. That meant they could bathe!

    The lean-to was set up on the opposite side of the wagon and they were each given enough privacy to wash off the weeks of filth and grime. Revos even did something to the water that gave it a scent. There was no soap, but scrubbing himself with the lukewarm liquid was better than any spa treatment at that moment.

    They used one of the smaller, non-enchanted barrels as a wash basin for their filthy clothes, each of them taking a little time to rinse off their garments with Revos¡¯s scented water before laying them over the side of the wagon. Revos worked a little more magic and they were dry in moments. Somehow he was able to get the water to simply slide off the clothes.

    By the time they were relatively clean and clothed, the horizon was getting lighter, and Ivaran was starting to come around. At Lethelin¡¯s request, Revos had healed some of the burns along his body as she didn¡¯t want him to pass out from the pain.

    Allora had explained to Mitchell that he was unconscious because he¡¯d been trying to maintain the spell under magical assault and, when it broke, the backlash had knocked him out. She said it was something like when a rope snaps under tension and, depending on the strength of the spell, it would render someone unconscious or even kill them.

    A few minutes after he had been healed, he woke up fully. His eyes fluttered open and he jerked hard, only to find ropes binding him tight to the wagon wheel and his hands in the manacles that had been on Allora¡¯s wrists just a couple of hours before.

    To his credit, once he took in the situation, he didn¡¯t beg or plead for his life.

    ¡°Enjoy it while it lasts,¡± he said, looking up at Allora. ¡°More will be coming.¡±

    ¡°They have been coming for two years, yet here I stand and here you sit, bound and moments from death,¡± Allora responded, her voice cold and pitiless. ¡°The throne will be reclaimed and your lot will be driven from Awenor soon enough.¡±

    Some realization came to Ivaran then, and he turned his gaze towards where Mitchell stood a few feet back. He looked him up and down and then turned back to Allora.

    ¡°What, him?¡± Ivaran snorted in derision. ¡°Good luck. I won¡¯t answer your questions, so you may as well kill me and get it over with.¡±

    He had balls. Mitchell had to give him that. The man was looking death in the face and seemed unconcerned.

    ¡°Another has claimed the right to end your life. I will not be killing you, despite how much I want to.¡±

    Lethelin moved then, and it was like she¡¯d just popped into existence. Mitchell had known she was there, of course, but somehow he¡¯d forgotten. She had been squatting on her haunches during the whole exchange and, in the pre-dawn gloom, it was like she had vanished until she rose to her feet. Ivaran noticed her at the same time and twitched at the movement.

    ¡°Who are you, then?¡± he asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m the one that¡¯s been hunting you for a year now. The one that¡¯s been taking apart your squad, one at a time. The one that¡¯s vowed to send your soul to the darkness.¡±

    Ivaran looked at her then, his eyes narrowing as they studied her.

    Something must have clicked because his eyes went wide.

    ¡°You killed my men?¡±

    Lethelin bowed then, flourishing her cape as she did so.

    ¡°Lethelin Ne Forlia, at your service.¡±

    As she stood back up, there was a dangerous glint in her eyes.

    ¡°Forlia,¡± Ivaran said as if tasting the name. ¡°Maribell? The chandler in Varset?¡±

    ¡°The chandler in Varset,¡± she confirmed, her voice quiet yet hard. ¡°My mother.¡±

    Ivaran didn¡¯t say anything for a long moment. All were silent. Mitchell could feel the tension in the air. Even the wind had stopped blowing.

    Finally, he snorted and looked up at Lethelin with a wry expression.

    ¡°The fucking bitch wasn¡¯t even that good.¡±

    Without a word, Lethelin stepped forward, fast as a viper strike, and grabbed the top of Ivaran¡¯s head, slamming it into the spoke of the wagon wheel. Ivaran grunted and his head lolled forward.

    Mitchell watched as she brought the long stiletto up and she stuck her thumb in the semi-conscious man¡¯s mouth, prying it open.

    Ivaran¡¯s eyes, dazed but aware, saw the blade coming towards his face and jerked against his bonds as he uttered a small cry of protest.

    ¡°Shhh,¡± Lethelin said, almost gently, holding his head firmly.

    Mitchell watched in horrified fascination as she placed the weapon inside his mouth and pressed it against his left cheek. Ivaran froze. His chest was heaving as he drew in big breaths. He blinked his eyes rapidly as if trying to clear his vision.

    She increased the tension against his cheek and Ivaran inhaled sharply as the thin blade began to cut into the corner of his mouth. Their eyes were locked together and, while he was trembling slightly, Lethelin was completely still.

    ¡°For the chandler in Varset,¡± she whispered to him. Then, she jerked the knife hard through his cheek and it sliced clean open, emitting a spray of blood onto the sand.

    Ivaran screamed and his body strained against the bonds. Blood poured down one side of his face, and he gurgled as he inhaled to scream again.

    ¡°You fucking whore!¡± he wheezed and his voice was slurred as he tried to speak around a mouthful of blood. ¡°Fuck you!¡±

    His blood sprayed from his mouth and splattered across her face and clothes but she paid it no mind.

    ¡°Shhh,¡± Lethelin said again as she grabbed the back of his head and placed the knife back into his mouth, this time placing it against his other cheek.

    Ivaran whined, his tough-guy bravado crumbling under the pain of having his face slit open. It was a pitiful sound. As Lethelin drew the knife taut he began to whimper.

    ¡°For my mother,¡± Lethelin said softly.

    Mitchell turned away before she could yank the knife through his other cheek, but his high-pitched scream was enough of an indicator that she¡¯d done it. Mitchell went around to the other side of the wagon and retched. Ivaran¡¯s screams accompanied the sounds of him sicking up what food they¡¯d eaten over the last hour.

    A moment later, Allora joined him. As Mitchell stood up, gasping for air and spitting out the bile in his mouth, he looked at her. Thankfully, she looked like she wanted to throw up as well. She handed him a cup of the barrel water. As he took a drink, swirling it in his mouth and spitting it out, Ivaran¡¯s screams rang out into the morning light again and the wagon rocked as he thrashed.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we stop her?¡± he asked Allora as she looked out over the dunes.

    ¡°I do not agree with what she is doing, but I promised her that she could kill him in exchange for freeing us. It is not my place to intervene. And it sounds like she has cause.¡±

    Ivaran screamed again, but it was weaker this time.

    Revos joined them then, snacking on a bag of nuts.

    ¡°She¡¯s good with that knife. I certainly wouldn¡¯t want to be on her bad side.¡±

    He saw Mitchell¡¯s condition then. ¡°Feeling alright?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen someone tortured before.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have the patience for it myself,¡± Revos said. ¡°If I need to kill someone I will, but not like that.¡±

    Revos held out the bag to Mitchell to offer him some but Mitchell shook his head. Revos shrugged, and took a few more bites.

    ¡°How can you eat while she¡¯s doing that?¡±

    Revos chewed, then swallowed.

    ¡°Using fire as I did takes a lot out of me. I need to replenish.¡±

    He popped a few more of the thumb-sized nuts into his mouth and then set the bag on the end of the wagon before heading over to where they¡¯d laid the bodies of the two other men. He pulled out a small dagger and began cutting off the clothes of Dumb Fuck Two.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Mitchell asked him.

    ¡°We need something to feed the clorvol before we set out. The armor is likely to give her indigestion and you don¡¯t want to be downwind when that happens.¡±

    Mitchell stared incredulously for a moment, watching as he slipped the blade under some straps around the dead man¡¯s chest to loosen it. On the other side of the wagon, there was a long, high pitched scream and then Ivaran went silent.

    ¡°What the fuck is wrong with you people?¡±

    Mitchell looked at Allora, but she didn¡¯t look at him. Her body was rigid and she was looking out at the dunes as the sun began to light up the landscape. Mitchell could make out the heads of the little coyote dog things as they poked up to survey the camp before dipping back down.

 Chapter 8

    Some minutes after the screaming had stopped Mitchell and Allora returned to the other side of the wagon. They saw Lethelin sitting cross-legged a short distance away staring out at the horizon. From the front of the wagon, the clorvol started making some unpleasant sounds that Mitchell tried to ignore. It¨Cor she if Revos was to be believed¨Capparently wasn¡¯t concerned about eating the corpse of someone who had recently been taking care of it.

    He saw the body of Ivaran then. He was still tied to the wagon, but his head hung limply to one side. Both cheeks were sliced open and blood coated the whole lower portion of his face and neck. His shirt was also soaked through. Mitchell followed the blood down and saw that a mess had been made of the man¡¯s crotch as well. If he hadn¡¯t already thrown up, he surely would have then.

    Something in him snapped. The whole ordeal seemed to hit him at once. The fight at Allora¡¯s home in Phoenix, the magic, the severed arm he¡¯d rolled across, their capture and imprisonment, and time in the wagon and the isolation. Being separated from everyone and everything he loved to be surrounded by magic and monsters and such casual death was too much.

    ¡°You¡¯re all fucking insane!¡± His eyes were locked on the ruined body of Ivaran. He could feel his heart racing in his chest. A small voice in the back of his mind said he was having a panic attack but it was quickly drowned out by the torrent of other emotions that suddenly overwhelmed him.

    Allora stopped and turned to look at him. Revos was walking toward them from the front of the wagon and behind him, he could see the clorvol raise up its head and swallow a leg.

    ¡°This is all your fault!¡± Mitchell pointed at Allora. ¡°You kidnapped me, brought me to this hell hole where people are tortured to death and fed to giant lizards and where demons walk around and shoot fire from their hands!¡±

    Lethelin got up and started walking over to see what the commotion was about. Revos stood next to Allora and they watched him impassively.

    ¡°And you, Allora¨Cif that¡¯s even your real name¨Cyou¡¯re not even human. You¡¯re the same thing he was.¡± Mitchell gestured without looking at the mutilated corpse. ¡°Are you going to threaten to cut me up and feed me to the giant lizard if I don¡¯t do what you want? Huh?

    ¡°You,¡± Mitchell pointed an accusing finger at Revos. ¡°Are you going to burn me with fire if I don¡¯t come along nicely?¡±

    He could hear his voice rising and getting shrill but he couldn¡¯t stop himself. The stress of the last two weeks was coming out whether he wanted it to or not.

    ¡°Sun sickness?¡± Lethelin asked Allora.

    Allora didn¡¯t respond. She continued to watch Mitchell, her face blank.

    Mitchell turned to Lethelin. ¡°And you, you fucking psycho. How could you do that to a person? How could you slice his face open and turn him into so much meat? What kind of sick fuck does that? Am I next?¡±

    Lethelin¡¯s face hardened. ¡°You can be if you don¡¯t watch your tongue.¡±

    She took a step forward but Allora held out a hand stopping her. Surprisingly, she obeyed.

    ¡°What? Go ahead! Cut me open! Might as well get it over with. If you don¡¯t, this Milandris guy is going to do it. I¡¯m dead anyway, right?¡±

    Allora spoke then. ¡°Mitchell, you need to calm down. This isn¡¯t the best time. We can explain things later, but we need to move.¡±

    ¡°Need to move. Need to move. Fuck that! Fuck you! No, you need to send me back home, that¡¯s what you need to do. This is all your fault. You brought me here, you can damn well send me back.¡±

    Mitchell began to stalk toward her, fists clenched.

    ¡°Enough,¡± Revos said suddenly.

    His hand raised up and a wave of calm washed over Mitchell. He stumbled and almost fell. Why had he been angry? He didn¡¯t know. Something about Allora but whatever. He felt really good now. He felt like he was drunk. But not the fall-down puke drunk, though. This was that first part where you felt happy and everything was cool. Everything was really awesome, in fact. Look how nice the sand was! And look at that dead guy! Woah, he was neat! And the dude with the horns was definitely badass. He looked like he had stepped right out of an eighties metal band¡¯s album cover. He turned around in a slow circle, his eyes wide. And all the coyote dog heads popping up over the dunes! They were cool, too!

    ¡°Man, this place is really cool,¡± Mitchell said dreamily.

    Allora glanced at Revos with a look of mild reproach and then walked over to where Mitchell was now staring placidly, his previous rage evaporated. She took him gently by the arm and walked him toward the back of the wagon.

    ¡°Hey, Allora,¡± Mitchell¡¯s said, his voice lethargic. ¡°Sorry about the yelling. I¡¯ve just been a little stressed out, you know? But I¡¯m cool now. I¡¯m cool. We¡¯re cool, right?¡±

    ¡°It is alright,¡± she told him. ¡°This was not how all this was supposed to happen. You were right to be angry.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s okay,¡± he said. ¡°It wasn¡¯t your fault. It was Tall Green and Crispy. That guy was a dick. But you¡¯re cool.¡±

    He stopped, then looked at her as she guided him to sit on the warming sand. She sat down across from them and checked his eyes.

    ¡°He hit you with a full spell,¡± she said more to herself than to him. She leaned back then, apparently satisfied. ¡°It should wear off in a little bit, you will be fine.¡±

    ¡°Wow, you¡¯re really pretty, you know that? Like really really pretty. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen anyone as pretty as you.¡±

    Her face softened and she gave him a little smile.

    ¡°And the way you stabbed Dumb Fuck Two when he came to get you? That was super fucking cool. You¡¯re like a ninja or something. And you can do magic! That¡¯s super fucking cool, too!¡±

    ¡°Mitchell, we are going to break camp. We need to get away from the blood. The dakas are still staying back but the smell of blood is going to bring other things as well. Do you think you can sit here for a little bit until the spell wears off?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s cool,¡± Mitchell said, giving her a smile. ¡°I¡¯ll sit. I can totally help though if you want. It¡¯s cool.¡±

    ¡°Just sit. I will come and get you when it is time to leave.¡±

    ¡°Cool,¡± Mitchell said.

    She stood and walked back towards Revos and Lethelin, who were watching him. Mitchell only had eyes for Allora¡¯s ass in those jeans, though.

    ¡°Man, her ass is cool.¡±

    A little while later Mitchell started to feel his euphoria slip away. He was counting coyote dog heads as they popped up over the sand dunes and seeing if he could tell them apart and thinking how cool they were when suddenly everything stopped being pleasant. He blinked a few times, shook his head as if clearing away the fog, and turned to look back at the wagon. Revos and Lethelin were throwing the cages into the sand behind the wagon.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    "That son of a bitch put a spell on me," Mitchell thought.

    Then he remembered how he was acting and felt embarrassment wash over him. It was exactly like the feeling he would get the morning after drunk-dialing an ex. As he replayed the whole scene in his head he realized he was still angry. Really fucking angry, actually. But he wasn¡¯t going nuts like before. He was back in control of himself.

    He let out a frustrated sigh and got to his feet. The sun was fully up now and he squinted against the glare as he walked to the back of the wagon. Lethelin and Revos were just dumping the second cage into the sand. They paused in their efforts and watched him as he approached.

    ¡°Look, I¡¯m sorry about what I said. To both of you.¡±

    Neither said anything.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a rough couple of weeks and this place is nothing like where I came from.¡± He turned his attention fully on Lethelin. ¡°And I don¡¯t know what happened between that guy and your mother but I think I can guess.¡±

    Lethelin blinked and looked away.

    ¡°If someone did something like that to my mother, I¡¯d want to kill them, too. I probably would have just shot them, but, well, that¡¯s not really my business.¡±

    She looked back at him then and gave a small nod. ¡°Thank you for the apology.¡±

    ¡°Are we alright?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re alright, Mitchell Allen from Earth.¡±

    Mitchell looked to Revos then. ¡°Are we cool?¡±

    Revos waved his concern away. ¡°It¡¯s fine. In truth, I do share some of the blame for your current situation, so your anger is understandable.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s time for that discussion after we¡¯ve left the scent of blood behind. If you come up here and help with the last cage, and the prisoner block, I¡¯ll help Allora pack up the rest of our gear.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure.¡±

    They swapped places and Mitchell helped Lethelin move the last of the cages off the wagon. The prisoner block, as Revos had called it, was the stone with the chains attached to it that they were hooked to each night. Mitchell asked how it worked, why it was light enough that he could lift it easily here, but when they were chained to the block it got heavier. Lethelin said that she wasn¡¯t even a sprite so she couldn¡¯t begin to explain the basics of the magic involved. However, with each new prisoner attached to it, it increased in weight by the same weight as that of the prisoner. Mitchell wanted to ask what a sprite was, but there was other work to be done.

    Everyone moved with quiet efficiency as they tried to get underway as soon as possible. Both Allora and Revos had to fire off a few bolts of some sort of magical attack into the dunes to keep the coyote d¨Cno, Mitchell corrected himself, Allora had called them dakas¨Caway from the wagon. Revos said they were primarily nocturnal hunters but the smell of all the blood was driving them into a frenzy. Individually they were small and weak, but a pack of ten or twelve could take down a well-armored man. Beyond that, there were bigger things that would be drawn to the smell.

    Before long the wagon was moving. They hadn¡¯t even crested the next rise when Mitchell saw the dakas swarm over the dune behind them going for the body of Ivaran and the other corpse. There were at least three dozen of them and a fight broke out almost immediately as they descended upon their meal. The clorvol didn¡¯t seem disturbed in the slightest and plodded resolutely forward under the guidance of Revos at the reins.

    Allora and Lethelin rode in the back with Mitchell and no one spoke. Mitchell was still angry at Allora but he had control of his temper. He hadn¡¯t apologized to her for his outburst and he wasn¡¯t sure if he wanted to. There was still a lot they had to talk about and Mitchell thought if he started talking now he¡¯d just blow up again. She was laying back resting her head on a thin blanket that they¡¯d taken from the dead men¡¯s things and looked to be napping. Lethelin looked out at the dunes as the wagon rolled onward.

    Mitchell, rather tired of days spent not speaking, decided to try and take advantage of his new ability to talk. Revos had cast the language spell on him twice more and it seemed to last about an hour, give or take.

    ¡°So what does your name mean?¡±

    Lethelin turned her emerald green eyes from the landscape and looked at him.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Well, Revos and Allora both seemed to think your name was funny. I figured there was a story behind it.¡±

    ¡°There is. A famous one, actually. My mother was always a bit of a dreamer and a romantic and I think that¡¯s why she picked the name. I hated it when I was a kid. Especially because I can¡¯t dance to save my life.¡±

    She smiled inwardly at some memory.

    ¡°What¡¯s the story?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a mythological tale about a woman named Lethelin who was loved by both Vish and Ithstasy. Do you know about them?¡±

    ¡°The moons?¡±

    ¡°Not just moons, but also the children of the god Stollar, the god of the day and life, and Denass, his wife, the goddess of night and death.¡±

    She paused, seeing if he understood. He nodded for her to continue.

    ¡°Lethelin loved to dance. The story goes that she would sneak out of her home after bedtime to dance in the fields around her father¡¯s farm. It was said that she could charm the wild beasts with her movements and that music would sometimes follow her so that she might dance in rhythm. It wasn¡¯t long before her activities were noticed first by Ithstasy and then by Vish as she danced under their light. Nights were longer when she danced because they would stay in the sky longer trying to see her. They were enraptured by her.

    ¡°As she got older, she also became an unparalleled beauty. She was said to be the kindest and most generous person in all the three kingdoms. All loved her but Ithstasy and Vish most of all for they had been witness again and again to her true beauty.¡±

    ¡°She sounds like a Disney princess,¡± Mitchell said with a chuckle.

    ¡°Are they a powerful royal dynasty where you¡¯re from?¡±

    ¡°I guess you could kind of say that,¡± he said with a small grin. ¡°Sorry, continue. I didn¡¯t mean to interrupt.¡±

    Lethelin shrugged. ¡°One day, unable to contain their feelings anymore, Ithstasy and Vish left the heavens and came to Lethelin¡¯s home. They professed their love for her and, Lethelin, overcome by their divine presence, fell in love with them as well. Every night Ithstasy would visit her after sunset and Vish would visit her before dawn and they would consummate their love.

    ¡°Wait wait,¡± Mitchell held a hand up. ¡°So she was sleeping with both of them? The brother and the sister?¡±

    ¡°She was,¡± Lethelin said with a grin. ¡°Her sexual appetites were said to be as vigorous as her dancing.¡±

    ¡°Kinky,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°So what happened?¡±

    ¡°She got older, as all the mortals do. She never married, despite having offers from all over the three kingdoms. She stayed devoted to Ithstasy and Vish. But the years passed and her body weakened. The two divines became distraught at her impending death and pleaded with their mother to allow her soul to remain in her body and to restore her youthful form. Denass refused. She didn¡¯t have the power to make a mortal immortal and, even if she did, she would not. It would disturb the natural order.

    ¡°Her children then went to their father, Stollar, and begged him to grant Lethelin immortality so that she could join them in the heavens, but he also refused. He said that Lethelin was a mortal and had a mortal¡¯s destiny, part of which was to die. He would not change that. So Vish and Ithstasy returned defeated to sit by Lethelin¡¯s side as she weakened. It was called the Moonless Season. For three months, they sat vigil as her body withered until she finally died and joined the other humans in the Greenwood.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the place where our souls go when we die. Assuming we have not angered the gods. Then the Darkness awaits. Isolation for all eternity. Cut off from the souls of the other races.¡±

    ¡°So that¡¯s it?¡±

    ¡°Not quite,¡± Allora spoke up from where she was lying on the wagon, not sleeping after all. ¡°There is a little more. A sort of happy ending.¡±

    Lethelin nodded her head.

    ¡°Denass, seeing the grief of her children at the loss of their mortal love, allowed a small reprieve. As Lethelin was not an immortal, she was not granted a permanent place in the heavens. But every hundred years, she releases Lethelin¡¯s spirit to dance for her children once more. And so she does. Lethelin dances for three nights before she returns to the Greenwood. The last time was about twenty years ago.¡±

    ¡°Twenty two,¡± Lethelin corrected.

    ¡°Wait, so it¡¯s a true story?¡±

    Lethelin shrugged. ¡°Who can say for sure? But every hundred years a comet appears on the horizon and does an analemma around the two moons. It¡¯s visible in the sky for three days and then disappears again. No one sees it coming or going. It makes three passes around the moons and then is gone.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s said that children conceived in the moonlight of Lethelin¡¯s visit grow up to have unique talents,¡± Allora added.

    ¡°What¡¯s an analemma?¡± Mitchell asked.

    Lethelin drew a shape in the air with her finger tracing the path that the comet took. Mitchell recognized it immediately.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s a figure eight! That¡¯s wild.¡±

    ¡°Eight what?¡± Lethelin asked, her face puzzled.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s¡­ Never mind. I get it.¡±

    The wagon pressed on for the next few hours and then they were forced to stop. The sun was approaching midday and, just as when they¡¯d been captives, they broke to rest the clorvol and make camp. Rather than the lean-to this time, they got the bigger tent that Ivaran and his men had been using. It wasn¡¯t cooler than their lean-to, but it was more spacious. And it had some sort of minor enchantment on it that kept bugs away, even the little sand fleas that had been a nuisance ever since they started out. As the poles were driven into the sand Mitchell saw all the little tiny bugs erupt out of the sand and scamper for the fastest way outside of the perimeter of the tent. If he could sell these back home he¡¯d make a fortune.

    All throughout the ride and setting up camp, Mitchell and Allora hadn¡¯t spoken. Both of them knew there were things to say and, if she didn¡¯t broach the subject, he would. She said they would talk after they¡¯d moved off a bit and he was giving her time to keep her word. As they brought out some of the dried provisions and settled in to wait for the cooler temperatures that sunset would bring, she renewed the language spell and began to talk.

    ¡°Mitchell, I promised you answers and I think it¡¯s time. You need to know what¡¯s going on before we continue.¡±

 Chapter 9

    ¡°I am from a land called Awenor,¡± she began. ¡°It¡¯s over the Skybreaker Peaks to the west of Iletish. It is a beautiful country with lush verdant forests, sweeping plains, and mighty rivers.¡±

    She looked at him as if expecting a comment, but Mitchell didn¡¯t say anything.

    ¡°These are things I had intended to tell you that night in your city before we were attacked by Ivaran¡¯s men. I had hoped to convince you to come with me willingly. But I was interrupted. If I had not brought you here, you likely would have been killed anyway. Milandris probably would have sent others. I thought taking you with me was the best way to save your life.¡±

    ¡°But why? Who am I to you? Who am I to Milandris?¡±

    ¡°We will get to that,¡± she said. ¡°There are other things you need to know first. I will try to shorten it as much as I can.¡±

    Mitchell let out a frustrated sigh and waved for her to continue. ¡°Fine.¡±

    ¡°Awenor is a land that has known peace for nearly a thousand years. It is protected by a magical bond that is sealed with each ruler making invasion a formidable task for any encroaching army. The armies of Iletish tried in the early days of the kingdom and it was a disaster. Since then, the kingdom has been allowed to flourish without the threat of rampaging armies that plague other lands.

    ¡°At the heart of Awenor lies an elemental, a spirit of nature. Not divine, but not fully mortal, either. Her name is Awen. The purpose of a nature elemental is to guide and shelter the land. But their power is also their curse. Elementals like Awen live in massive crystal geodes deep in the ground. They are tied to it and cannot leave. The crystals in such a geode are powerful magical artifacts that are sought after by every magic user in the seven kingdoms. In the past, there were others, but Awen is the last on this continent.¡±

    ¡°What happened to the others?¡± Mitchell asked.

    ¡°They were hunted, killed, and their geodes harvested. It was the greed and short-sightedness of the mortal races that led to their deaths. They have limited abilities to protect themselves. They are powerful, but it¡¯s not that kind of power. They can be killed. However, Awen found a way to help ensure her survival.

    ¡°The first monarch of Awenor was named Lorivast. The histories say he was part of a group of adventurers exploring the forgotten lands west of the Skybreaker Peaks when he was separated from his party during a violent storm and fell into a hole in the earth. While he was deep underground, wounded and dying, with no hope of rescue, Awen came to him. She healed him, they became friends, and a deal was struck. Awen would bond with him, in turn giving him some of her powers, and he would become her protector. Awen knew that now that men were once again crossing the Skybreaker Peaks, more would come. Some would want to hunt for her and kill her as they had killed her sisters. With the help of Lorivast, who was already an accomplished arcanist, she might survive.

    ¡°With her guidance, he built a kingdom. With an elemental to nurture the land, crops grow faster, and diseases and plagues are less frequent. Droughts are less severe as Awen can bring up water from deep within the earth to keep the plants alive. But, perhaps even more importantly, was the harvesting of gemstones. That is the true source of Awenor¡¯s wealth and power.¡±

    ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°We can discuss that later. For now, just know that, through the sale of those gemstones, Lorivast was able to finance his kingdom. As he neared death, it was revealed that the bond was not passed down from parent to child. Not just anyone could accept the bond. A special person had to be found. Awen taught the ritual to Lorivast and he chose a select group of his most trusted mages and arcanists to perform the ritual so that Awen would not be without a protector.¡±

    Allora paused to take a breath and a drink of water before continuing.

    ¡°Thus, the line of succession has remained unbroken for over eight hundred years. The second monarch, a woman named Saran, founded the Onyx Knights, of which I am one. Maybe the last one.¡±

    She stopped at that and Mitchell saw her swallow down some emotion.

    ¡°It is our sacred duty not just to protect the monarch, but, perhaps more importantly, to perform the ritual to find the new monarch after the old one¡¯s death. Without a monarch at the head of government to direct forces and guide the commanders in battle, Awenor is at risk of an invasion that would likely end in Awen¡¯s death. Until two years ago, we were safe under this system.¡±

    Mitchell had to admit, it was a compelling story. He could see the emotion and passion on Allora¡¯s face as she told it. Whatever wounds she¡¯d experienced before they¡¯d met were still there. Mitchell looked at the others. If Revos was paying attention, he hid it well. He had pushed out a little depression in the sand and appeared to be napping. Lethelin was sitting cross-legged in the corner of the tent staring at the sand in front of her with a scowl on her beautiful face.

    ¡°The last monarch, a half-elf named Baylor, had become¡­,¡± Allora¡¯s voice trailed off as she tried to choose her words, ¡°Inattentive in the last decade of his reign. As he became overly fond of alcohol and his dalliances with the men and women around him, he began to neglect matters of state. More and more of the burdens of running a thriving and diverse kingdom were pushed off on the Knights and other functionaries. Things went unnoticed. Corruption began to spread, and law and order started to break down at the fringes. Our enemies began to take notice. Piracy along the coast increased, and there were more and more incursions into the border regions. There was civil unrest in some places as people grew angry at the lack of response from Baylor and his court. Then, two years ago, Milandris struck.¡±

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Allora¡¯s eyes went distant.

    ¡°His soldiers were everywhere all at once. They must have been lying in wait for their signal for months. Guardsmen, serving staff, stable boys, it seemed there were knives in every direction. We had no warning. I do not know how he did it, but it was a masterstroke. In a single night the Onyx Knights were wiped out, Baylor assassinated, and over eight hundred years of peace undone. My parents, my friends, and everyone I have ever loved were killed in just a few hours. All gone. ¡±

    Allora shuddered as she fought to contain the emotion and Mitchell couldn¡¯t help but feel for her, even with everything that had happened.  He wasn¡¯t quite sure what to say. He had never been good at offering sympathies. Saying you were sorry just didn¡¯t seem to cut it.

    ¡°But you survived?¡±

    Allora sniffed and nodded, wiping a tear away from her tanned cheek. She took a deep breath and looked to be trying to center herself to continue.

    ¡°I grew up in the palace and knew its secret passages inside and out. I fled and made my way out of the city. The Onyx Knights were tasked with finding the next monarch but I did not know the ritual. I had the heart stone but no clue what to do with it.

    ¡°The heart stone?¡± Mitchell asked.

    She opened her clenched hand and resting in the palm was a small black stone, about the size of a strawberry. Once Mitchell saw it he felt something tug at his consciousness. He felt the urge to reach out to it but he remained still.

    ¡°The heart stone is a piece of Awen. It serves as both a link to her and a key to the throne of Awenor. The monarch takes it into his or herself and it allows their body to handle the power transfer from Awen to them. It is what allows Awen to work directly with a monarch in the governing and defense of Awenor. The true bond only comes when you join with Awenor. This,¡± Allora indicated the stone in her palm, ¡°allows the monarch¡¯s body to accept the magical gifts she can bestow. Without it, any potential monarch would not survive the bonding.¡±

    Mitchell¡¯s eyes never left the stone. He thought he could see a soft flickering light in the depths of its polished black surface.

    ¡°It took me a year to find someone that could teach me the ritual.¡± Allora continued. ¡°Imagine my surprise when the spell led me to another world. To your world. It led me to you, Mitchell Allen. It selected you as the next monarch of Awenor.¡±

    Mitchell pulled his gaze away from the heart stone and looked into her violet eyes. He¡¯d guessed where this was going. If this Milandris was after the throne and he was in the way, then killing him was logical. It was crazy, but it made a kind of sense once he accepted that this wasn¡¯t a fevered dream, that he¡¯d been taken to another world, another universe, with magic and monsters and gorgeous elf women with purple eyes.

    But it was also a world where six-foot-five demon men fed bodies to giant lizards and beautiful women flayed open the cheeks of their enemies like they were deboning a fish. Where people kept you in tiny cages for hours on end and carted you through a desert to be executed for things you hadn¡¯t done. It was a place of madness. At least, compared to where he came from.

    The silence stretched as Mitchell weighed his response. Allora set the stone down on the sand between them and waited. The silence stretched on for such an uncomfortably long time that Mitchell saw Revos crack open on of his terrifying golden snake eyes and look at him.

    Mitchell looked back down at the black void of the heart stone. He felt it pull at him. And there was definitely an inner glow.

    Finally, he spoke.

    ¡°Allora, I feel truly sorry for what happened to you. It sounds horrible, but I don¡¯t belong here. I want you to send me home. Back to my world and my people.¡±

    Allora blinked. Revos actually lifted his head up and stared at him in disbelief, but Mitchell didn¡¯t take his eyes off Allora.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°This fight is not my fight. I don¡¯t have any magic, I don¡¯t speak the language, I don¡¯t know the culture, I can¡¯t use a sword, and I sure as hell can¡¯t save a kingdom of strangers from a man who was able to kill the last king and undo eight hundred years of peace in a single night. Your spell was wrong. I¡¯m not your guy.¡±

    Allora stared at him, mouth agape. ¡°But¡­ No. The spell is not wrong. It has never been wrong.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to tell you.¡±

    She grabbed the heart stone from the sand and clutched it hard.

    ¡°You are the one the spell chose! You will take up the heart stone, bond with Awen, and rescue our¨Cyour¨Ckingdom. You are the next monarch!¡±

    Her voice had taken on a heated intensity as if she were reciting a sacred mantra that had been repeated a thousand times.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m not.¡± His voice was firm now. ¡°I¡¯m Mitchell Allen, born in Portland, Oregon USA, Earth, the Solar System, the Milky Way, the Universe. I do data analytics for a cosmetics company. I drive a Nissan, I like old movies and sometimes I get a little too drunk and cry at Thai cell phone commercials and Whitney Houston songs. But I¡¯m not your next monarch.¡±

    She stood up suddenly, looking down at him. ¡°You are. You must save Awenor!¡±

    He didn¡¯t like her towering over him and so he stood up as well.

    ¡°You need to send me back,¡± he said. ¡°Find someone else.¡±

    ¡°The spell chose you!¡±

    ¡°Well, the spell chose wrong. I¡¯m no one¡¯s savior. I¡¯m just a guy.¡±

    A series of emotions passed over her face so quickly that Mitchell had trouble cataloging them. The one she settled on was clear enough, though. Scorn.

    ¡°You are a coward,¡± she almost spat the words. Her voice dripped with venom. ¡°Perhaps the magic has been corrupted if it selected one such as you!¡±

    Mitchell almost took a step back from the pure spite in her voice, but he held his ground.

    ¡°It¡¯s a poor craftsman that blames their tools,¡± he retorted. ¡°Maybe the problem is you!¡±

    Before Mitchell could blink her blade was at his throat. He could feel the tip of the weapon resting just beneath his Adam¡¯s apple.  Her eyes were cauldrons of purple fire as she glared at him. He held absolutely still and knew that one wrong move and she would run him through. Her body vibrated but her sword arm was perfectly still. He swallowed and felt the tip prick his skin.

    Mitchell¡¯s eyes flicked to Revos and Lethelin, but they merely watched. Lethelin had a look of astonishment on her face, and her own hand was clutched around the handle of one of her knives as if she expected violence. Revos managed to look both alert and laconic at the same time.

    ¡°Allora¡­¡± Mitchell said softly bringing his hands up. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. But you need to send me home.¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± But she choked off whatever she was about to say. A look of pain and loss replaced the anger then, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.

    She withdrew her blade suddenly and Mitchell staggered back a step. He rubbed at the spot where it had pricked him and his fingers came away with a small smear of blood. When he looked back at her she was staring at him, incomprehension clear on her face. Then something seemed to go out of her. Her shoulders slumped and her fingers around the sword¡¯s pommel went slack. It dropped to the ground, followed by the heart stone. Without another word, she turned and left the shelter of the tent.

    Mitchell felt like the world''s biggest asshole but he pushed the feeling down. He held tight to his anger at being ripped away from his life and his home. This was not his fight. These were not his people. He didn¡¯t belong here. He resisted the urge to pick up the stone. He wanted to go home.

 Chapter 10

    Allora disappeared around the other side of the wagon and Mitchell lost sight of her. He didn¡¯t know why, but he wanted to go after her and apologize. He reminded himself that he didn¡¯t owe her an apology. Still, the desire was there, nonetheless. He suppressed it. He tried to ignore the pain he felt at her words as well. He hadn¡¯t asked for any of this. But the way she¡¯d looked at him with such disdain and disgust bothered him. It shouldn¡¯t matter what she thought of him, he told himself. Yet, it did.

    Whether he openly admitted it or not, she was perhaps the fiercest, most amazing woman he¡¯d ever met. After all those hours in the cage, he had come to rely on her strength. She had never cowered before them, had never given them the satisfaction of appearing weak. Her example had given him the strength to do the same despite being absolutely terrified.

    He sat back down in a huff and squinted as a blast of hot air blew sand in his face. It had been so long since he¡¯d felt anything cool that he was beginning to forget what the word even meant. He was so exhausted he couldn¡¯t think clearly. Every time he tried to follow a train of thought it would evaporate away. He never got to any conclusions or decisions and this soured his mood even further. He needed to sleep, and he wanted to wake up back where things made sense.

    He was lost in his own musings when Revos sat across from him in the spot Allora had been in moments before. Mitchell looked up to see the big creature glaring at him. Under normal circumstances, it might have been intimidating. He did look like something that had stepped out of Dante¡¯s Inferno, after all. But Mitchell had grown somewhat accustomed to his presence over the last several days which just went to show that people could adapt to almost anything, given enough time.

    ¡°What are you looking at?¡± Mitchell asked.

    ¡°A petulant child,¡± Revos said.

    ¡°Fuck you,¡± Mitchell shot back.

    The creature arched an eyebrow but didn¡¯t respond. He didn¡¯t respond for so long that Mitchell began to grow uncomfortable under his golden stare.

    ¡°That girl has been through the nine hells and back. She carries the weight of an entire kingdom on her shoulders. She does not deserve to be spoken to like that. What happened to you and how you were brought here were not her fault.¡±

    ¡°Then whose fault was it?¡±

    ¡°It was mine,¡± he said flatly.

    Mitchell hadn¡¯t been expecting that.

    Revos took a large breath and glanced over at where Lethelin still sat silently, ever watchful. Then he continued.

    ¡°Ivaran¡¯s men ambushed me in the market ten days after I sent Lora to your realm. They tracked her to me. I don¡¯t know how. She carries a charm with her that is supposed to block her from scrying but somehow Milandris has been finding ways around it.¡±

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you magic your way out of it? You handled Ivaran easily enough.¡±

    Revos looked offended.

    ¡°Ivaran barely has enough magic to light a campfire. In a straight duel, I would have boiled the blood from his body before he could scream. But a strike to the back of the head while one is chatting up a silk merchant¡¯s lovely daughter will knock out an arcanist as easily as a stable boy. When I came to, I was back in my tower with the manacles on and as helpless as a babe. I was told to reveal where Allora had gone or they would kill me. As you can see, I am still alive.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not a very loyal friend,¡± Mitchell said.

    ¡°I am a survivor. I make no apologies for that. I am quite fond of Lora, but I am more fond of myself.¡±

    ¡°So you sold her out. And me.¡±

    ¡°And I would do it again,¡± Revos said and gave him a flat look.

    ¡°With friends like these¡­¡± Mitchell said and let it trail off.

    Revos cocked his head.

    ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s an expression from my world. With friends like these who needs enemies?¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± Revos said. ¡°I understand. Quite. But Lora knew the kind of person I was when she came to me. I am many things, but heroic is not one of them. We thought her safe in Iletish but we were mistaken.¡±

    Mitchell was quiet, not sure what to say.

    ¡°Whether you return or not, you owe her an apology. She has lost more and suffered more than you can imagine.¡±

    ¡°If you were so fond of her, you should have fought a little harder to protect her.¡±

    ¡°I am a survivor,¡± Revos shrugged.

    ¡°Whatever,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°I¡¯m going to get some sleep.¡±

    Mitchell went to the back of the wagon and retrieved one of the bedrolls that had, only that morning, belonged to their captors. Laying down with a strip of cloth over his eyes he tried to make sense of everything. Before he got very far, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

    Mitchell awoke to darkness. As his thoughts began to clear, he tried to figure out what had awoken him. The camp was mostly quiet with Revos snoring softly. Then he heard it again. A sniffle.

    He turned his head slowly and saw Allora sitting cross-legged and staring down at her sword that was back in the scabbard and lying on the ground in front of her knees. Her hand was clutched tightly around something and she was speaking in a low voice. The language spell had worn off long ago and he was back to not understanding a word she said.

    Even covered in dust and grime from days on the road, she was almost ethereally beautiful in the moonlight. Her violet eyes glistened with unshed tears. It hurt Mitchell somewhere inside to see her in so much pain. That feeling was made worse because he knew he was the cause.

    ¡°No,¡± he told himself for the hundredth time. ¡°This is not your fight and these are not your problems.¡±

    Mitchell knew he would have to be insane to even consider it. This was a place of swords and sorcery. What could he do? How was he supposed to stop an invading army? Was he supposed to bury them under Excel spreadsheets? Maybe he could beat Milandris in a singing competition with his vast knowledge of 90s grunge bands. A dance-off was all well and good in Marvel movies, but he doubted the guy who wanted to kill him would be stopped by Mitchell¡¯s enthusiastic twerking.

    Mitchell wasn¡¯t a white knight, he wasn¡¯t a hero, and as much as he might want to help her he wasn¡¯t even qualified to take care of the giant lizard pulling their wagon, let alone save a kingdom. He belonged back on Earth, with his friends and family, his boring but stable job, and Tinder dating. No magic, no monsters, no one trying to kill him. And no beautiful bad-ass elfin sorceresses who asked him to be a king and save a kingdom.

    He realized then that Allora¡¯s whispers had stopped. He refocused his eyes and saw she was looking at him. She didn¡¯t speak and neither did he. Her moist eyes bored into his, unblinking and pleading. Mitchell turned away from her and tried to go back to sleep.

 Chapter 11

    Mitchell awoke again when someone nudged his shoulder. He blinked his eyes and saw Lethelin standing over him.

    ¡°Rocen,¡± she said.

    Mitchell knew that one. Wake up.

    He nodded to her and, once she was satisfied that he wouldn¡¯t fall back asleep, went off about her morning routine. He sat up and stretched. It was still dark, of course. Even without their captors, their routine hadn¡¯t changed.

    Things got a little awkward as Lethelin and Revos went off to find food for the lizard that pulled the wagon and it was just him and Allora left to tidy up. The tension between them was like a miasma they were forced to endure as they went about breaking camp. She didn¡¯t bother casting the language spell on him because they knew what needed to be done without having to talk through it.

    The job was easy enough with only the four of them and they finished well before Revos and Lethelin got back. Mitchell sat against the wagon''s side eating some of their rations and watched as Allora went through her morning rituals. She faced Vish where it was approaching the far horizon, getting down on her knees and then prostrating herself. She lay that way for several minutes and Mitchell once again felt a serenity come over the camp. He tried to tell himself he was just imagining it but deep down he didn¡¯t believe that. Gods were real in this place.

    Once she was finished, she stood and went through a series of stretches that looked very much like yoga. Mitchell had dated a girl a few years ago who had been very into the activity and she¡¯d cajoled him into joining her on more than one occasion. Once he¡¯d gotten used to it, he found that he actually enjoyed the exercise. Of course, his ex-girlfriend¡¯s shapely ass in yoga pants made the experience more rewarding.

    What Allora was doing looked like a version of Ashtanga yoga which was all about stretching and breathing. She would find a pose and hold it for several long moments, inhaling deeply into each movement, and then move to the next pose. He was surprised to see a lot of similar forms to what he would have done back home and then figured it only made sense. Allora may not have been human but she was shaped like one and there were only so many ways to stretch a body.

    He saw some of the movements give her trouble and he chalked that up to days spent in a cage, but Allora powered through it. By the end of her session, she was gliding through her forms with ease. Mitchell couldn¡¯t help but admire her body as she exercised. Her limbs were long and powerful and the jeans that she still wore from his world were pulled tight over a phenomenal ass. He tried not to stare. He didn¡¯t want to be ¡°that guy¡±. But he couldn¡¯t help it. Once she had limbered up, she moved with the fluidity of a dancer, her feet shifting smoothly through the sand and her arms settling gently into each pose.

    After about half an hour, Allora finished up with a mountain pose, arms spread slightly at her sides, palms facing out and head back. Mitchell expected her to return to the wagon and rest but instead, she stepped over, unsheathed her sword, and then began a whole new series of exercises with the blade that was hypnotic to watch.

    The movements started slow and were similar to her earlier calisthenics but clearly designed to include her weapon. As she found her rhythm, the movements became much more aggressive as though she were sparring with an invisible opponent. As Allora progressed and the motions became more intense, Mitchell began to hear her breathing coming harder. That she was fighting only air didn¡¯t seem to matter. At the end of each strike and block, her sword stopped just as solidly as if she were coming up against another blade. In all his life, he¡¯d never seen anyone move as she did. He¡¯d seen demonstrations of things like HEMA, or Historical European Martial Arts, which this seemed to be similar to, but none had moved like her. She moved like someone whose life depended on her skill with the blade, not someone who was performing at a Renaissance fair.

    Allora was panting as she finished and her hair was matted with sweat. She held the flat of the blade against her forehead, said her prayer, then grabbed the scabbard off the ground and resheathed it before heading back to the wagon. The stained white shirt clung to her chest and back and Mitchell got to admire the swell of her breasts and her nipples poking prominently against the fabric as she went straight to the barrel and poured a ladle of water over her head. She repeated the gesture once more and then took a long drink before releasing a satisfied breath.

    ¡°That was impressive,¡± Mitchell said.

    Allora looked at him, perhaps trying to parse out his meaning. She must have understood well enough because she nodded and gave him a tight smile before heading to the other side of the wagon where the wash barrel was situated. He heard the sound of her disrobing and tried very hard not to imagine her body naked as she rinsed off the sweat from her workout. He failed miserably.

    The sky was just beginning to lighten in the east when Revos and Lethelin returned. By this time Allora had washed and put her damp clothes back on and was lounging in the wagon bed eating a meal of nuts and dried fruits. The lizard had pulled itself out of the sand and was looking around and making noises that Mitchell had come to understand indicated hunger. He and Allora still hadn¡¯t spoken to each other. He wanted desperately to talk to her, to say something, but found he didn¡¯t know how to overcome the barrier that their fight had created.

    Revos and Lethelin fed the lizard something that looked suspiciously like rabbits and one of the dakas which it gobbled down without bothering to chew first. Mitchell still found the beast terrifying.

    He got up to stretch while Allora looked at him and then at Revos. A few words passed back and forth between them, Revos looked at Mitchell with a raised eyebrow, then back to Allora and shrugged. He pulled himself up into the wagon¡¯s driver¡¯s seat and waited for the rest of them to mount up.

    Allora turned her eyes back on Mitchell and he saw the stones in her headband glow. He felt the familiar tingle as her magic passed over him and then she spoke.

    ¡°Mitchell, I have asked Revos to send you back. Once we can get some place safe where he can set up the circle, we will send you home.¡±

    Mitchell was stunned. ¡°You¡­ You will?¡±

    Allora looked defeated but resolute.

    ¡°You were right. What happened to you, the manner with which you came, was not of your choosing. If I could have explained it to you beforehand, if we had not been attacked, maybe...¡±

    Her voice trailed off and her eyes went to the moon that was sinking below the western horizon.

    ¡°But it was wrong of me to bring you here. I could have defeated that last man and let you go. At the time, I feared there were more and I could protect you better here. I should have¨C.¡±

    She stopped and looked back at him, her violet eyes sorrowful.

    ¡°It does not matter. We will return you home.¡±

    ¡°What about all of that stuff? With Milandris and Awen? What about your kingdom? What will you do?¡±

    She gave him a sorrowful smile.

    ¡°Vish will provide a way. She has guided me this far and I have to have faith that there will be time to find someone else.¡±

    Mitchell¡¯s gut twisted and he couldn¡¯t tell if it was in excitement or panic.

    ¡°Home!¡± he reprimanded himself. ¡°All you¡¯ve wanted since you woke up in this furnace was to go home! You want to go home!¡±

    ¡°Um¡­ Thank you,¡± he managed.

    Lethelin had been watching from the other side of the wagon and chose then to speak up. ¡°You really leaving?¡±

    Mitchell blinked at her and pulled his eyes away from Allora¡¯s form as she crawled up to the front to sit next to Revos.

    ¡°Yeah. Why wouldn¡¯t I?¡±

    ¡°Well, if I believe her¨Cand I¡¯m not saying I do, mind you¨Cbut if I did, you¡¯re supposed to be the next monarch of Awenor! You¡¯d really turn that down?¡±

    ¡°I mean, it sounds like a death sentence. They¡¯re trying to kill me and I haven¡¯t even done anything yet.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but monarch! You could kill Milandris! Drive out his soldiers. Awen would fight with you! Nine hells, so would I!¡±

    ¡°Are you from Awenor, too?¡±

    Lethalin nodded. ¡°From Varset on the coast of the Olydian. Milandris has claimed it as his capital since he couldn¡¯t claim the throne in Lorivast.¡±

    Mitchell climbed into the back of the wagon and Lethelin joined him. With a flick of the reins, they set off into the rolling dunes.

    ¡°How far will you travel with us?¡± Mitchell asked her.

    ¡°At least until the next town. Ivaran was staying well off the roads to avoid detection. Iletish takes a very hard line against slavery and my guess is he didn¡¯t have proper paperwork saying you were criminals in Awenor. If he¡¯d been stopped by a patrol it would have meant his head.¡±

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    ¡°So there are towns in this desert?¡±

    ¡°Not a lot but along the main roads, yes.¡±

    ¡°Is that where we¡¯re going?¡±

    ¡°Right now they¡¯re heading north hoping to find a road. Might be a few more days until we do. I¡¯ll make a decision once we get to a town.¡±

    They rode on in silence for a while as the sky continued to lighten. A couple of times Mitchell caught Allora glancing back at him but he pretended not to notice. He was afraid of seeing that look of disappointment on her face again.

    ¡°What does it matter what she thinks of you?¡± Mitchell asked himself. ¡°You don¡¯t need to prove anything to her!¡±

    Mitchell¡¯s mind went back again to their brief dinner. He could still remember the delight on Allora¡¯s face when she¡¯d taken a bite of the burger and the look of awe when she¡¯d drank the milkshake. She was like something that had stepped out of a dream. In a way, she had. She wasn¡¯t from his world, after all. She was some sort of elfin knight or paladin. She wielded magic and a viciously sharp sword the way people in his world used cell phones and ballpoint pens. She was amazing and he wanted her to respect him. He wanted to be someone worthy of her respect.

    ¡°Tell me about Milandris,¡± Mitchell said suddenly.

    Lethelin looked up from her own private thoughts.

    ¡°I can¡¯t say as I¡¯ve met him. We move in different social circles.¡±

    Mitchell gave her a wry grin and she returned it.

    ¡°No, I mean what is life like with him in charge. You said he claimed your city as his capital?¡±

    Lethelin¡¯s face darkened as she pulled up memories.

    ¡°It was brutal at first. Those loyal to the old monarch were executed straight away. Milandris installed a puppet governor to oversee the Merchant Council and they were all made to swear fealty to him. The city guard was disbanded and its leaders were executed with the rest to be replaced with Milandris¡¯s own men. After that, things calmed down a little.¡±

    ¡°Then what happened?¡±

    ¡°For the most part, it was business as usual. Milandris left for Lorivast to try and claim the Onyx Throne and life in the city went on. The governor, Tarlesh, keeps things running. A lot of money moves through Varset and Milandris needed the taxes to keep his mercenaries in line.¡±

    ¡°Ivaran was one of his men?¡±

    Lethelin nodded her head in the affirmative. ¡°He was a captain. He and his squad patrolled the Silver Quarter in Varset in the weeks after the coup.¡±

    Her eyes went distant.

    ¡°My mother was quite a beauty when she was younger, you know? She used to say that she could have bonded with a councilman¡¯s son, that he courted her for weeks before she finally made him understand that her heart belonged to another. He was so distraught at her refusal that he left Varset and joined a religious order.¡±

    ¡°The one she loved was your dad?¡± Mitchell guessed.

    Lethelin gave a sad smile as her eyes stared at the empty space between them.

    ¡°He was a city guardsman. He died raiding a smuggler¡¯s warehouse on the docks in my fifth high sun.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    Lethelin shrugged.

    ¡°It was a long time ago. And we were okay for money. She had her candle shop and my father¡¯s pension. We didn¡¯t go hungry.¡±

    ¡°Ivaran¡­¡± Mitchell let his voice trail off. It was obviously a delicate topic, but he found he needed to know. ¡°He killed her?¡±

    Lethelin¡¯s eyes focused back on him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Allora was looking back at them as well, this time at Lethelin. It seemed she was also curious.

    Lethelin didn¡¯t answer right away. She studied him with her emerald green eyes.

    Finally, she said, ¡°From what I was able to gather, Ivaran took a liking to her. He was polite enough at first, but when she rejected his advances, he got more aggressive. One day he stopped taking no for an answer.¡±

    Lethelin¡¯s face hardened and Mitchell recalled the ruthless efficiency with which she¡¯d sliced Ivaran¡¯s face open with her blade. Her face had the same expression now.

    ¡°I got the story from one of his men before he died. Ivaran waited until after twelve bells and broke into her shop. He raped her, killed her, and then set fire to the shop to cover it up.¡±

    ¡°Jesus,¡± Mitchell said.

    Lethelin cocked her head. ¡°What¡¯s a ¡®Jee-jush¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s¡­¡± Mitchell decided against getting into theology. Whoever Jesus might have been on earth, he was not a god here. ¡°It¡¯s just something we say where I¡¯m from when we hear bad or shocking news.¡±

    Lethelin nodded in understanding.

    ¡°Are all Milandris¡¯s men like that? They just go around raping and killing?¡±

    ¡°They are mercenaries, mostly,¡± Allora spoke up for the first time. ¡°Men and women from all over Tewadunn.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Mitchell asked her.

    ¡°The continent. We¡¯re in Iletish now, which is one of the seven kingdoms of Tewadunn.¡±

    ¡°Some of his mercenaries are worse than others but, if they do step out of line, there¡¯s little recourse for the people,¡± Lethelin explained. ¡°Milandris and his governors would have a hard time maintaining their loyalty if he punished them the same way a corrupt city guardsman or soldier was punished. So they get away with a lot.¡±

    ¡°What does he want?¡± Mitchell asked, looking at both women. ¡°Why go through all this?¡±

    ¡°On the surface, he wants to claim the throne for himself,¡± Allora said. ¡°To do that, he must first kill Awen. I suspect he has other motives as well. Someone had to fund his operation, but I have not been able to find out who. They will want something in return.¡±

    ¡°What happens if he kills Awen?¡± Mitchell asked.

    Allora swept her hand out at the sunburnt landscape.

    ¡°Something like this,¡± she said.

    ¡°Awenor would become a desert?¡±

    ¡°Probably not as bad as this, but long ago Iletish had an elemental that was able to keep the land healthy by bringing up water from deep below. Iletish, or as it was called then, Ilendira, had some small forests, but it was mostly vast plains and grasslands. Little rain makes it over the Skybreaker Peaks but Ilendira¡¯s elemental was able to nourish the land and it thrived. After she was killed, the water stopped flowing. Within a generation, little was left.¡±

    Mitchell looked out over the harsh landscape with its dry cracked ground and rolling dunes. He tried to imagine it as grasslands, similar to something like Kansas or Nebraska back home. It was difficult to picture now.

    ¡°Why would Milandris do that?¡±

    ¡°I hope one day to have him at my feet. I will ask him that before I kill him.¡±

    With that, Allora turned back around and their journey continued in silence.

    As the midday heat settled in, Revos called a stop and they set up camp. They recast the language spell on him and, while the mood wasn¡¯t as tense as earlier, there was little talk between Mitchell and the rest of the party. Revos spoke with Lethelin and she recounted how she had tracked Ivaran out of a town called Adasas, where his tower was located. It was where they¡¯d been captured. Revos was quite impressed with her cloak, which had some sort of enchantment on it that distorted her outline, and with her waterskin. It operated on a similar principle as their water barrels and would refill over time. It was enough to keep her going in the desert but just barely.

    The plan was to find the road and keep heading west as they were likely closer to a town in that direction than they were to his home in Adasas. Revos said he would need a few days to set up the spell and send Mitchell back home.

    Revos cast the language spell on him once more then he and Allora went out hunting that night, leaving Mitchell alone with Lethelin. They were sitting alone under the tent when Lethelin began to question him about his home.

    ¡°You must have a pretty great life back home to want to give up being Awenor¡¯s monarch,¡± she said, rather bluntly.

    ¡°I mean, it¡¯s okay. I¡¯m not rich or anything. I¡¯m just a regular guy. That¡¯s why I don¡¯t belong here. Allora needs a hero. A great fighter or a wizard or something. I¡¯m not. I¡¯m just¡­ me.¡±

    ¡°The monarchs have always come from the common people. The spell chooses whom it will. That¡¯s part of what makes Awenor different from most of the other seven kingdoms. Rulership is not hereditary. The last monarch was a fisherman. His village was not too far from Varset, actually.¡±

    ¡°And look how that turned out,¡± Mitchell countered.

    Lethelin simply shrugged.

    ¡°He started out well enough. He was the monarch for my entire life. But I guess in the last few years he got lazy and he stopped caring about running things. Even in Varset, we heard stories of his wild parties and his sexual appetites.¡±

    ¡°Would you take the job if the magic spell chose you?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely,¡± Lethelin said without hesitation. Her soft red lips hardened into a determined scowl. ¡°To have the chance to drive the soldiers from our lands I would take on the responsibility.¡±

    ¡°Even if it cost you your life?¡±

    ¡°Even then,¡± she said flatly. ¡°I¡¯m not the best citizen of Awenor, but it¡¯s still my home. I don¡¯t want it defiled any more than Allora does.¡±

    ¡°What do you do when you¡¯re not hunting mercenaries?¡± Mitchell asked, shifting the subject slightly.

    ¡°I¡¯m a thief, mostly. Occasionally, I¡¯ll take a contract on someone if I think they deserve it.¡±

    ¡°You mean you¡¯re an assassin?¡± Mitchell probed, his eyes going wide.

    ¡°Occasionally,¡± she said again, correcting him. ¡°It¡¯s not my primary job, but I¡¯m not half bad at it. I¡¯m a better thief, though. One of the best in Varset if I¡¯m being honest.¡±

    Her eyes twinkled as she grinned at him.

    Mitchell didn¡¯t know how to respond to that. She said it so matter-of-factly, without any hint of shame or embarrassment, that he was stunned for a moment. He tried to imagine a conversation with a beautiful woman at a bar back home where she openly admitted she killed people for money. This place was strange in more ways than one.

    ¡°Look, Mitchell,¡± she said ¡°You may not have been a hero on your world, but you have a chance to be one here. This life chose you. That¡¯s how it always happens in the stories. Some farm boy or chambermaid gets tapped on the shoulder by destiny and they rise to the challenge. This might be your destiny, your chance to become great and to save a kingdom.¡±

    ¡°Or I could die horribly, Milandris kills Awen, and it was all for nothing.¡±

    She shrugged.

    ¡°You might. But, if you go home, all of that will probably happen anyway. Allora will be killed as well. She really might be the last Onyx Knight. There will be no one left to find a new monarch after she¡¯s gone. Personally, I¡¯d rather die fighting. Allora, too. Knights never give up. And don¡¯t tell me she means nothing to you. I see how you watch her. You will miss her if you go. And you¡¯ll have to live the rest of your life knowing that you could have helped her.¡±

    She was staring at him so hard it made Mitchell squirm and he found he had no answer for her. When he didn¡¯t respond she laid down on her bedroll and closed her eyes, leaving Mitchell to stew in his guilt and indecision.

    Allora and Revos returned about an hour after sunset, just as Ithstasy was rising above the horizon. They were carrying two dakas each. Revos went over to the big lizard, feeding it his two, and Allora came over to the tent, tossing hers down. Mitchell¡¯s language spell had worn off but, from the conversation between her and Lethelin, it sounded like they were eating fresh meat tonight instead of the dried rations.

    From what Mitchell could tell, it looked like there was some discussion over who should field dress them and get them ready for the cooking pot. He deduced that Allora was saying that, since she did the hunting, Lethelin should do the prep. Lethelin grumbled but apparently didn¡¯t feel up to arguing about it. She pulled a small knife from her belt, grabbed the two animals, and went off a few meters where some rocks jutted up from the sand and began to skin them.

    As Allora headed to their wash barrel to clean up, Mitchell approached her. She looked up at him as she washed her hands, her violet eyes flat and her expression guarded.

    ¡°Can we talk?¡± he asked her.

    Mitchell pantomimed talking with his hands, and she understood easily enough. The gems in her headband glimmered for a moment and Mitchell felt the tingle of the magic settling over him.

    His hands were shaking and he was sweating for reasons that had nothing to do with the residual heat coming off the desert sand.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to get yourself killed, you moron!¡± Some part of his brain was screaming at him. He shoved it down.

    ¡°Yes, Mitchell?¡± Allora looked at him expectantly.

    Mitchell had to force his mouth to work, force his chest to push the air up so he could talk.

    ¡°I want to stay,¡± he said at last. ¡°I want to help you save Awenor.¡±

 Chapter 12

    Allora said nothing for a long moment and then he saw something that he hadn¡¯t seen in weeks. She smiled. It was a real smile and it transformed her face. It was like a mask she was wearing had been removed and he was seeing her true self and it dazzled him.

    ¡°I¨C¡± he started but was cut off.

    Allora stepped forward and embraced him in a crushing hug. He felt the breath squeezed from his lungs and his spine popped in more than one place.

    ¡°Allora,¡± he gasped. ¡°Can¡¯t¡­ breathe!¡±

    She laughed and released him and he sucked in a lungful of air and staggered back feeling slightly dizzy. Hardly a weakling, Mitchell was regarded as being in pretty good shape back home, but the power she packed in her athletic frame was shocking.

    ¡°Thank you, Mitchell,¡± she said and sniffled. He saw that her eyes were moist and it was because she was happy this time, not because he had disappointed her. ¡°I knew that Vish had not led me astray!¡±

    ¡°I guess not,¡± Mitchell said and gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. ¡°What must I do?¡±

    ¡°You must accept the heart stone. Then we have to get you to the throne in Lorivin to complete the bond and you can take your rightful place as the ruler of Awenor. After that, you lead our forces and drive out Milandris and his mercenaries.¡±

    Mitchell blinked.

    ¡°Oh, is that all?¡± he asked. ¡°Well, we should have this wrapped up by next week.¡±

    Picking up on his tone, Allora cocked her head slightly.

    ¡°Are you mocking me?¡±

    ¡°No, sorry,¡± he replied with a sheepish grin. ¡°Sarcasm is like a second language to me.¡±

    He took a deep breath and tried to steer the conversation back on track. ¡°So you said I need to accept the heart stone. How do I do that?¡±

    Allora gave him a reassuring smile and then took his hand in hers.

    ¡°Come with me.¡±

    Mitchell tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach as she pulled him to the back of the wagon where her pack lay. Releasing his hand, she dug around inside and came out with the heart stone in her hand. As her fingers opened and Mitchell saw the glossy black surface once again, he felt it tug at him. His hand almost reached for it involuntarily. He visibly shook himself to try and dispel the feeling that overcame him being this close to it. Allora noticed his reaction this time.

    ¡°It is calling to you. It senses the connection.¡±

    ¡°How? It¡¯s just a rock.¡±

    ¡°It is not just a rock, Mitchell. It is a piece of Awen herself, formed from her own body. It is a very powerful magical artifact. This small piece alone is worth a king¡¯s ransom.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Mitchell said.

    He didn¡¯t really understand what it meant that it was a part of this Awen creature, but he could hear the truth of her words plainly enough. She spoke about it almost reverently.

    Allora moved over to the shelter of the tent and sat down, crossing her long legs, and motioned for him to join her. Once he was sitting across from her, their knees almost touching, she instructed him to take off his shirt.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°It is called the heart stone because it goes over your heart. You need to place it against your chest over your heart and it will be taken into your body.¡±

    Mitchell gaped at her.

    ¡°You mean that thing is going to go inside me?¡±

    Allora nodded. From the corner of his eye, he saw Revos enter the tent and his eyes quickly took in the situation. Without speaking he sat down a few feet away and watched. Lethelin also looked up from her grisly work prepping the second daka for their dinner. The first one was already cut up and sitting in chunks on a section of tarp she had pulled from somewhere.

    ¡°Wait wait, I want to see this too!¡± Lethelin called over. ¡°Give me a few moments!¡±

    She resumed her butchery with enthusiasm as Mitchell pulled off his shirt.

    ¡°Will it hurt?¡± he asked after he tossed the tattered garment to the ground.

    ¡°I¡­ I do not know,¡± Allora admitted and looked slightly embarrassed. ¡°Baylor was made monarch more than seventy years ago. He was near death when the heart stone emerged from his body and I fled with it. If he felt anything, he was too far gone to show it.¡±

    Allora¡¯s eyes went distant as she recalled the memory.

    ¡°He had been grievously wounded in the attack. My father and one of his lieutenants carried him down one of the secret passages away from his chambers. But Milandris¡¯s men must have seen the blood trail and they were beating down the door. With his last breath, Baylor placed the heart stone in my hand and my father told me to run. They would guard my escape.¡±

    Mitchell saw the grief wash over her face but she controlled it quickly.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said.

    Allora gave him a sad smile.

    ¡°My father was a superb swordsman and nearly an arcanist himself. He would have killed many before he died. And he died protecting Awenor. There is no more noble death for a knight. ¡±

    Her expression hardened.

    ¡°And I will avenge him. But I do not know what it is like to take the heart stone into your body.¡±

    ¡°Almost done!¡± Lethelin piped up.

    ¡°Listen¡­¡± Mitchell said after a moment. ¡°I know you said the spell chose me and I¡¯m supposed to be the guy, but¡­ I don¡¯t have any powers like you do. I don¡¯t know how to use a sword or shoot a bow and arrow, anything. We don¡¯t really use those things where I¡¯m from. Some people do it for sport but I¡¯m not one of them. If you give me an AR-15, I¡¯m a half-decent shot, but I don¡¯t think you have those here.¡±

    Revos spoke up then.

    ¡°What is an arrr fiptin?¡±

    Mitchell glanced sideways at him where he sat nibbling on some of their dried rations.

    ¡°It¡¯s a weapon on my world. A powerful one. But it¡¯s not magical, it¡¯s mechanical.¡±

    ¡°Of course you have magic, Mitchell Allen,¡± Allora said matter-of-factly. ¡°Every monarch has been at least a witch or a warlock, with most being arcanists. A true mage is a little rarer. There has only been one to assume the throne in the history of Awenor. But at the very least you are a warlock.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what that means,¡± Mitchell said, trying not to let his exasperation show. ¡°I mean I understand the words but I don¡¯t understand what it means to be one of those things here.¡±

    ¡°It has to do with the number of mana types you can channel. Sprites have access to only one type, and mages can access all of them.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Mitchell said, still unconvinced. ¡°But I don¡¯t feel any magic.¡±

    Just then Lethelin came over with her sack of daka meat and began chucking it into their cooking pot that had been set out earlier and was now simmering quietly.

    ¡°I will show you,¡± Allora said.

    Turning her attention to Lethelin she said, ¡°When you are done washing up will you bring me one of the mage catchers from the compartment under the seat?¡±

    Lethelin dropped the last chunk in and looked between them with uncertainty but decided not to question.

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    ¡°We could just test him the usual way,¡± Revos said.

    ¡°This will be better,¡± Allora told him. ¡°He will see it and feel it.¡±

    They waited in awkward silence for a few moments until Lethelin returned with her hands freshly cleaned and holding a pair of the manacles that he¡¯d been imprisoned in for so long. Just seeing the instruments of his captivity again made his guts twist, but he suppressed the feeling.

    In Lethelin¡¯s other hand, she held the small disk that had been used to unlock them. She handed both to Allora who took them in her fingertips and then went over to sit next to Revos but Allora stopped her and asked her to wait.

    Holding up the manacles in front of Mitchell¡¯s face she explained.

    ¡°These are called mage catchers. They are a simple yet ingenious way for people to imprison those who can use magic. They only work on those who can channel.¡±

    Allora looked up at Lethelin and invited her to sit. Allora asked for her hands, put the bands in place, and pushed them closed. Nothing happened. As soon as Allora let go of them they broke apart and dangled limply off of the thief¡¯s slender wrists.

    ¡°Lethelin has no magical talents,¡± she explained, looking back at Mitchell, ¡°so the mage catchers do not work on her. But,¡± she gestured for him to hold out his wrists, which he did. ¡°If I place them on you¡­¡±

    Allora plucked the mage catchers off Lethelin¡¯s wrists and slid them over his. Once the cool metal came into contact with his skin he felt that familiar sting and the manacles snapped shut so fast that they jumped out of Allora¡¯s long fingers. Immediately light began to race along the delicate script that was so intricately carved along every available surface. He felt lightheaded and like he wanted to throw up. His body swayed and Allora had to reach a hand out to steady him.

    ¡°What¡¯s happening to me,¡± he said a little breathlessly. ¡°It¡¯s like¡­ like something is draining the life out of me.¡±

    ¡°What you are experiencing is intense and rapid mana drain. It will pass in a moment.¡±

    ¡°Take them off!¡± Mitchell demanded as his body broke out in a cold sweat and his vision went blurry. ¡°Take the fucking things off!¡±

    Allora held up the small disk to the center link of the chains and they clicked open. It was like he could suddenly draw breath again and he shook the manacles off, letting them fall to the sand.

    Allora picked it up and pointed to the runes on the cuffs.

    ¡°This is a simple light cantrip. It can be used to create small motes of light that a caster can direct or place in an area. Normally they only last for a short time, but this spell form has been modified. It has repeated thousands of times and each one is connected to the one before it in a looping spell form.¡±

    Allora pointed to the break where the two halves connected while locked.

    ¡°This is a basic locking spell but it¡¯s been altered to draw the prisoner¡¯s own mana to keep it shut. And then it feeds the mana directly into the light cantrip and will continue to pull the mana from your body, never allowing your reserves to refill.¡±

    Mitchell tried to clear his vision and look where she pointed. He could detect how the script around the break was different than that running along the bands and see where they linked up, but it was all nonsense to him. Beautiful scribbles, nothing more.

    ¡°Do you remember the headache you felt while you were in the cage? The constant exhaustion?¡±

    Mitchell nodded. ¡°Yes, but I thought that was dehydration and the heat.¡±

    ¡°Some of it, yes, but it was also because of the continuous mana drain from the mage catchers. It will not kill you but you will feel terrible.¡±

    Mitchell considered all that she said.

    ¡°So, I really have magic?¡±

    ¡°Yes. And once you have accepted the heart stone I can begin to teach you the basics of spell crafting and channeling. I am sure Revos will help too.¡±

    She looked sidelong at the horned man. ¡°Right?¡±

    Revos merely grunted.

    ¡°And I can also begin teaching you the blade,¡± Allora continued.

    Lethelin let out a slow appreciative whistle.

    ¡°What?¡± Mitchell asked the thief.

    ¡°Being taught the blade by an Onyx Knight?¡± Lethelin gave Allora an appraising look. ¡°Not many get that opportunity.¡±

    ¡°You know, I¡¯ve always wondered if you lot were as good as they say,¡± she added. ¡°Knights never joined in the festival games and few saw them in action.¡±

    Allora¡¯s mouth bent into a slight grin.

    ¡°Perhaps you and I will spar one day,¡± Allora told her, her voice a little playful.

    Mitchell decided he liked seeing her happy. He liked it very much.

    A dangerous light came into Lethelin¡¯s eyes. Something hungry and eager.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± was all she said.

    With that, Allora turned her attention back to Mitchell. He thought he saw her eyes slide over his bare chest, but he told himself he was imagining it. Sensing the shift in mood, both Lethelin and Revos focused their attention on him as well. It made Mitchell feel slightly uncomfortable. In the quiet stillness of the night, Mitchell felt a single bead of sweat slide between his shoulder blades.

    ¡°So, what do I do?¡±

    ¡°Take the stone,¡± Allora said, holding the bit of polished rock out to him.

    Mitchell did as she instructed and plucked the strawberry-sized lump from her outstretched palm. The moment his fingers were around it, he felt a sensation of vertigo. Beneath that, however, was a sense of belonging. This was his. It had always been his. It was meant for him. He knew that like he knew his own name. His heart was pounding in his chest and there was a ringing in his ears. He turned his hand over and stared in wonder at the stone in his palm and it was most definitely glowing now with a steady pulse of purple light, he thought he could hear it calling to him. There was no sound that his ears could detect but something whispered in his mind, just below his comprehension.

    Mitchell lost himself in the depths of the small stone. Strange images came to his mind of things he had never seen before, but he felt that he knew them. He saw flashes of forests and rivers and animals that looked similar to deer bounding through tall grass. Mixed among these visions of the wild lands of what Mitchell assumed must be Awenor were villages and towns. He caught glimpses of people moving about their daily lives, laughing, loving, suffering, and dying. He thought he imagined that he could feel the pressure of their feet on his flesh as they walked about. The rumble of wagon wheels were lines of tingling pressure across his body.

    But more than anything else he felt life. Life in its purest and most elemental form. He could feel the movement of the planet spinning through the void of this alien universe. He could feel the grinding of tectonic plates miles below him, feel magma coursing through ancient channels like blood in the veins of a fiery colossus. His mind expanded under the onslaught of sensation and he felt as if his consciousness was being seared away by the unfathomable beauty of it. He saw everything and felt them all and in that moment he loved them. He loved every creature, every insect, every beast in the forest, everything that swam, walked, crawled, and yearned for life. His heart wanted to explode at the joy of it.

    And then he blinked.

    The sensation was gone. As Mitchell¡¯s mind once again asserted itself, he felt tears sliding down his face and a painful ache in his chest. He realized he hadn¡¯t taken a breath. He struggled to remember how. Then something clicked and his chest heaved as he sucked in the cleanest and most refreshing breath he could ever remember taking.

    As his eyes focused back on a world that was almost bland in comparison to what he¡¯d just seen he saw Allora staring at him intently.

    ¡°Did you see the visions?¡±

    Mitchell tried to remind himself how to speak.

    ¡°I saw¡­¡± He groped for the words. ¡°I saw¡­something. I think it was Awenor. Is it always like that?¡±

    ¡°I think so. As I said, I was not yet born when Baylor took up the heart stone but we studied it when I was young. Visions were a common sign that one was truly suitable to bond with Awenor and accept her gifts.¡±

    Mitchell was taken aback by the almost rapturous joy on her face. He realized then that this must have been the culmination of everything she¡¯d fought so hard for since Milandris had attacked. He was the culmination of her struggles. Just then he wanted to run. He wanted to run as far and as fast as he could away from her. He would let her down. He would be the cause of her tears and her death. He¨C

    Mitchell squeezed his eyes shut and clamped his jaw tight.

    ¡°No!¡± he shouted to himself. ¡°That¡¯s old you, Mitchell. The new you has magic and you¡¯re going to learn how to use a sword from an Onyx Knight, whatever the hell that means. You¡¯re going to be the goddamned hero or die trying. You¡¯re going to save the kingdom and get the girl!¡±

    Mitchell felt a flush creep into his cheeks at that last part. Of all the stupid, childish fantasies to have. Save the kingdom and get the girl? He knew better than that. But deep down a sliver of hope remained. He tried to focus back on the situation at hand.

    ¡°So, I just put it up to my chest?¡±

    Allora nodded. ¡°Over your heart.¡±

    Mitchell took a deep breath. Revos and Lethalin stared at him intently.

    ¡°Okay, then,¡± Mitchell said, his voice flat. ¡°Here goes nothing.¡±

    Mitchell pinched the small stone slightly between his fingers and, without looking, moved it over his chest and rested it just slightly to the left of his sternum. The stone was cool against his skin. It might have been his imagination, but he thought that everyone had stopped breathing.

    He felt a tingling sensation begin where the stone touched him and then it went numb. Suddenly the stone was sinking into his flesh. He knew he should feel freaked out that a magic rock was moving into his body but he was strangely calm. He still didn¡¯t look at it though, for the same reason he didn¡¯t watch them insert the needle into his arm when he donated blood. Everyone knew that if you watched it go in, it hurt more.

    Just like that, his fingers were resting on the bare skin of his chest and the stone was gone. He did look then and there wasn¡¯t a mark on him.

    Mitchell rubbed at the area almost absently as he searched for some trace of a wound, but there was nothing.

    ¡°How do you feel?¡± Allora asked him, her voice tight with anticipation. Her brow was creased with worry.

    ¡°I feel fine. I¨C¡±

    His voice cut off. There was a heat in his chest. Warmth where he had never felt warmth before.

    ¡°Wait.¡± The warmth was spreading. ¡°There¡¯s a heat.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t that unpleasant, really. But it was getting warmer. He rubbed at his chest a little harder as if that would help dispel it. It was growing uncomfortable now. The heat that started in his chest was moving up his neck and down his arms.

    Allora reached out then and took his hand, squeezing firmly.

    ¡°Try to breathe. It will pass.¡±

    The heat was increasing now. It had begun to burn. But unlike burns he¡¯d had on the surface of his skin, this was inside of him. Mitchell broke out into a full-body sweat.

    ¡°Allora, what¡¯s happening?¡± Mitchell groaned involuntarily as he struggled to inhale through the pain. The fire was everywhere now, from the top of his head to his toes and the pain was increasing. His muscles began to shiver.

    Allora grabbed his other hand and wrapped her long fingers around his clenched fist.

    ¡°Look at me, Mitchell Allen. Focus on my eyes. It will pass.¡±

    ¡°Gahh!¡± Mitchell cried out.

    The heat in his chest had become white hot. He tried to focus on her purple eyes but could no longer see through the tears and the haze of pain. The inferno raged through his veins and he was sure he must be burning alive from the inside. He spasmed then, his body falling backward onto the sand, and began thrashing about. Dimly, he was aware of Allora at his side speaking soothing words to him but his whole world was fire. He heard someone screaming and realized it was him. The fire was all. It consumed him and reduced him to ash. There was no thought, no memory, only the fire. Thankfully he passed out and knew no more.

 Chapter 13

    Allora heard Revos sit up and stretch. Her own body longed for sleep but she had not moved from Mitchell¡¯s side in the hours since he¡¯d lost consciousness. She watched and waited, still holding his hand. Lethalin still slumbered, her soft snores barely noticeable anymore. Revos got up without speaking, went off to relieve himself, and returned a short time later.

    ¡°The boy will be fine,¡± Revos said from behind her. ¡°You were right not to tell him. It would have only scared him. He survived.¡±

    ¡°I know that,¡± Allora responded, not turning to look at him. ¡°It needed to be done this way,¡±

    Her eyes remained on Mitchell. The purple glow had faded from his veins and his fever had broken about an hour before. The sweat that had poured off him had been thirstily absorbed by the desert sand. His body was now cool and dry.

    ¡°You should try to get a few hours of sleep at least.¡±

    Revos meant the words to be comforting, she could hear it in his voice, but she did not want his comfort.

    ¡°I will be fine.¡±

    When she didn¡¯t offer up any more comments Revos went back to his pallet and laid back down.

    She knew she had had to conceal the truth of the process and the risks from Mitchell so as not to frighten him unnecessarily, but she had still lied to her monarch. Again. That he was not technically the king yet was small comfort. It was her job to protect him, teach him what he needed to know, guide him, see him to the throne, and even sacrifice her life for him if need be. Yet from their very first meeting, she had done nothing but lie to him. Revos could not understand the conflict this caused for her. She didn¡¯t want to believe it was because of his cambion blood but, at least in his case, the stereotypes of his race were largely true.

    ¡°I wish you were here, mother,¡± she said to herself. ¡°These responsibilities always seemed to rest so easily on your shoulders.¡±

    But of course, there was no answer. Her parents were beyond her reach now and could offer no counsel. They still had an hour or two before they needed to be up and moving. Assuming Mitchell had awoken by then.

    So quietly that she almost couldn¡¯t hear the words herself, she whispered, ¡°Father¡­I am afraid.¡±

    Her hand clenched Mitchell¡¯s and she continued her vigil over his unconscious form. She would not fail this time.

    *****

    Mitchell felt cool stone against his cheek. Slowly, he opened his eyes and saw he was in a dimly lit space. There didn¡¯t seem to be a direct source of light. Instead, as his eyes focused, he saw a soft glow emanating from inside shards of crystal that were jutting up from the ground and walls around him at hard angles. He pushed himself up then and realized he was naked. But instead of being cold, he found the space warm and comfortable. As he stood, he turned in wonder at the sight before him.

    Razor-sharp blades of black and purple crystal pierced the air all around him but he didn¡¯t feel afraid. He felt safe here for reasons he couldn¡¯t explain. It was almost womb-like. If this strange, cramped space could be said to be a womb.

    ¡°I bid you greetings, Mitchell Theodore Allen of the realm of Earth.¡±

    The voice was soft and feminine and reverberated from the crystal shards around him and he could feel it in his bones. He spun and searched the angled shadows but saw nothing.

    ¡°I bid you greetings as well,¡± Mitchell said uncertainly to no one in particular.

    In front of him, the lights began to coalesce into one large crystal obelisk and then, without warning, a figure stepped from it as smoothly as one might emerge from water. It was humanoid in shape, nearly seven feet tall, and it had two arms, legs, and a head, but no recognizable features beyond that. Then, the form rippled, the sharp edges smoothed, and feminine features began to manifest. Chest and hips swelled, and the face sunk in and then reformed with eyes, a nose, and full lips. Fingers split off from the ends of the arms which before had been blocky and angular but were fast becoming more toned and human-like. Mitchell saw the swelling of crystal breasts and a lithe torso and followed it down to the creature''s groin but no genitalia was noticeable.

    In just seconds the clunky block of ambulatory crystal had reshaped itself into the form of a very attractive, albeit bald, human female form. Some of the lights that swirled around inside the crystal body migrated up to the head and took up residence behind the eyes. The eyelids were closed, but the light passed through easily enough. Then, they opened and fixed their gaze upon him.

    She - it or whatever it was - spoke directly to him, then.

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    ¡°I believe you might find this form more convenient to speak to. I am Awen. I welcome you to my home and thank you for taking up the mantle of my protector.¡±

    Her hand reached out and rested on his chest just above his heart. Rather than being cold and hard, her crystal skin felt warm and supple against his.

    ¡°You carry a piece of me within you now. Once the bond is complete, it will aid you in your journey and help to give you the strength you need to protect our land, our people, and me.¡±

    ¡°How did I get here?¡±

    ¡°This is only a projection into your mind. Your body is still far from me. But the heart stone allows for some communication. You must come quickly. Even now Milandris searches for me. I have some defenses to slow and confuse him, but he will find me eventually. If his men breach my geode, all will be lost.¡±

    ¡°I will try,¡± was all Mitchell could say in response.

    ¡°I know that you will. I have seen into your heart Mitchell. I see the kind of person you are and the kind you could become. But you have much to learn and I fear you will have great difficulty in the weeks and months ahead. Listen to Allora and learn all that she can teach you. You will need her if you are to succeed. I will aid in what ways I can, but, until the bond is complete, I am limited in what I can do. You will largely be on your own until you claim the throne.¡±

    Mitchell took a deep breath and looked away from her glowing eyes, then looked back up at her and nodded.

    ¡°I will.¡±

    She leaned down and placed her warm soft lips on his forehead.

    ¡°I await your arrival. And be careful with Allora. She is more fragile than she seems. She will need you just as much as you need her. She will need your strength and compassion.¡±

    Awen¡¯s glowing eyes sparkled just a little more brightly. ¡°And your love.¡±

    Mitchell started to protest that he didn¡¯t love her but he knew it was a childish response before the words even reached his lips. This creature, whatever she was, was inside him. He could feel her. She knew him, maybe better than he knew himself.

    ¡°I will.¡±

    Awen gave him a tender smile then and it filled him with hope and the feeling that everything was going to be alright.

    ¡°Until we can meet again, Mitchell Theodore Allen. Now awake. Your body has survived the absorption of the heart stone. You have many leagues yet to travel. Safe journey.¡±

    Awen stepped back into the crystal and her body melted into it seamlessly. Before he could say his own goodbye to her as well, the vision faded.

    *****

    Mitchell¡¯s eyes snapped open and he sat up with a start. Beside him where she¡¯d been sitting, Allora let out a yelp of surprise and fell backward onto the sand. Mitchell registered the movement and focused on her just in time to see her angry glare as she sat up and began to brush the sand out of her midnight-black hair.

    ¡°Mel nakit,¡± she said to him, only a little of her annoyance at being startled evident in her voice. Mitchell didn¡¯t know if she was cursing him or greeting him. The language barrier was a real problem. Still, he apologized anyway.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Mitchell said as he got to his feet.

    He felt wired like he¡¯d drunk an espresso or three. He wanted to go for a run. He hadn¡¯t done almost any physical activity since he¡¯d gotten here and it was starting to stress him out a little. Normally, he was a fairly active person, working out three or four times a week plus the occasional hike in the Ahwatukee mountains. Since he¡¯d been sucked through a dimensional portal, however, all he¡¯d been doing was sitting on his ass.

    Mitchell reached out a hand to Allora and she took it, allowing him to pull her up. In the pre-dawn light, she looked haggard. There were circles becoming evident under her purple eyes and he could see the tension in her neck and shoulders. Had she sat by him all night? No, that was silly. Looking around, the tent was empty. Revos and Lethalin must be off getting ready.

    ¡°Sorry if I overslept,¡± Mitchell told her, looking out at the horizon that was quickly changing from dark blue to the hazy white-azure of the desert mornings here. The temperature was already beginning to creep up. Normally, they were well underway by this time.

    The gemstones in Allora¡¯s headband flashed and he felt that familiar tingle that indicated she¡¯d cast a spell on him.

    ¡°How do you feel?¡±

    Mitchell still couldn¡¯t get over how the language spell worked. He could see her mouth moving and if he focused on her lips it was easy to see that the shapes her mouth formed were not English and that syllables didn¡¯t match up, but his ears heard his language anyway. If he wasn¡¯t looking directly at her mouth, he didn¡¯t notice it at all.

    Mitchell looked down at his chest and passed his hands over his arms. He could remember the intense agony of the night before but only dimly. As he examined his arms and the rest of his exposed chest there were no signs that anything had happened. He actually felt amazingly good. There were none of the aches or cramps from sleeping on the ground that had plagued him since he¡¯d arrived here. He felt loose and limber.

    ¡°I feel great,¡± he told her honestly. His hand rubbed once again on the spot just over his heart. He imagined he could feel a lump there, but really there was nothing. Even though he felt fine now though, he knew he needed to ask her about it.

    ¡°Did you know? About the pain?¡±

    She pulled her eyes away from his and looked away. ¡°I did. I am sorry I did not tell you. I worried that if you knew the truth¨C¡±

    ¡°That it could kill me?¡±

    Allora¡¯s head snapped back to look at him, her violet eyes slightly widened. ¡°How¡­?¡±

    ¡°I talked to Awen. She projected herself into my mind or something. But she made a comment before the vision ended about me surviving the absorption of the heart stone. Which means it could have killed me.¡±

    Mitchell saw her normally stoic expression falter a bit and a look of guilt and shame passed over her face. Rather than speak, however, she took a step back from him, and then, in one smooth movement, she sank into a kneeling position and prostrated herself in front of him, her forehead resting on the sand.

    ¡°You are correct. I lied to you about the risk of accepting the heart stone. I have no excuse. I will accept whatever punishment you deem necessary.¡±

    Mitchell was too stunned to even comment.

    Of course, that is when Revos and Lethelin decided to make their appearance, walking around the back wall of their tent. Mitchell, still shirtless, looked at them, then down to Allora, still kneeling with her head in the sand, and then back to their audience, unsure of what to say.

    ¡°What did I miss?¡± Lethelin asked, a bemused smile twisting her lips.

 Chapter 14

    ¡°We will start with teaching you how to sense your magic,¡± Revos said as they sat in their tent that evening. ¡°Once you can feel the hum within yourself you can begin to draw upon it and channel it to make spells. We¡¯ll also be able to see which types of mana you have access to.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°Sounds easy enough.¡±

    Lethelin and Allora were scouting the area around the camp looking for something fresh for dinner and it was just Mitchell and Revos alone with the already slumbering clorvol.

    ¡°What is mana, anyway?¡±

    ¡°A simple question without an easy answer, I¡¯m afraid.¡± Revos¡¯s voice shifted into something a little more scholarly.

    ¡°Some believe it is energy left over from the formation of the universe. Others say it is the energy of life itself and, without it, we could not exist at all, that all of creation would be a barren void. One scholar postulated it was sexual energy exuded from the constant fornicating of all the creatures throughout all space and time. But, the short answer is we really don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t need to know where it comes from to utilize it, however.

    ¡°Fair enough, I guess. I don¡¯t really understand how electricity works but I could use a light switch without any problems.¡±

    Revos¡¯s face looked puzzled for a moment as he tried to sort out the meaning of the words coming through the translation spell and apparently decided it was unimportant and didn¡¯t comment. The spell was amazing but it wasn¡¯t perfect.

    ¡°Close your eyes. Focus your attention inward. Most people find that they feel their mana most quickly when they focus on their chest, so we will begin there.¡±

    Mitchell did as instructed and closed his eyes, then took a few deep breaths trying to center himself. He tried to block out the sounds of the wind moving across the dunes and focus on his breathing. His ex-girlfriend had been into yoga and meditation he still remembered the basics but he hadn¡¯t meditated since they broke up. As ideas entered his consciousness, he noticed his mind wandering, filling with random thoughts. He noted them before pushing them aside, focusing back on his breath and feeling where it originated in his chest.

    After five or ten minutes he felt his mind go, if not quiet, then at least distant. He could still discern the thoughts in the background but it was almost as if they belonged to someone else. He felt the rise and fall of his chest, deep and even, and his body begin to relax. In the silence between the hot gusts of wind blowing over the parched landscape, he imagined he could hear his heart beating in his ears.

    Then suddenly he felt it. There was a vibration somewhere in his chest. Between breaths, between the beating of his heart, and in the stillness of the desert, he felt it. Something inside him that he had never experienced before. It was¡­ alive! It startled him so much that it completely broke him out of his meditation.

    ¡°Oh shit!¡± Mitchell exclaimed as his eyes shot open. ¡°I felt it! I have magic!¡±

    Mitchell had seen evidence of his magical abilities before when Allora had applied the mage catchers. He¡¯d believed her but he hadn¡¯t actually felt it! It was like this living pool of something dynamic and new and vibrant residing inside his own body.

    He looked up at Revos who looked mildly surprised.

    ¡°That was quick. Normally it takes students an hour or more of focus before they can feel their mana pool.¡±

    ¡°I used to meditate back home. Not for a couple of years, but I have a little bit of practice.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure why thinking on it would be beneficial, but either way, this will speed things up nicely.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s¡­ Never mind. So, what do I do?¡± He was dying to get started.

    ¡°Find your mana pool again. It needs to become automatic. You have to be able to reach for your mana pool and manipulate it without hesitation. In this moment, you were not distracted. No one was attacking you or trying to run you through with a blade. You need to be able to seize your mana without fail every time. Now start again."

    Mitchell settled in and started over. He found the mana a little quicker this time. He was able to get a better sense of it with a little bit of practice. It was in his chest but he couldn¡¯t pinpoint exactly where it might be. He couldn¡¯t feel his lungs or his liver but he could feel this presence somewhere inside him.

    Revos seemed to be able to sense when he¡¯d found it and every time they would begin again. This went on for a good half an hour and then Revos changed up the routine. Just as Mitchell was about to locate that vibration inside of himself Revos would poke him with a sharp stick, or flick him on the forehead. He¡¯d pinch his arm or leg and he had claws! As the lesson progressed Revos left him with welts and scratches, some of which drew blood. By the end of the hour, Mitchell could no longer control his temper.

    ¡°That hurt, you big red son of a bitch!¡± Mitchell yelled as he held up the collar of his shirt to his ear where Revos had driven the tip of a claw almost clear through his earlobe. There was a decent amount of blood. ¡°Fuck!¡±

    Mitchell got up, fuming, and went over to the barrel they¡¯d repurposed for washing. He cleaned the blood off his neck and ear, ignoring the sting. Revos joined him.

    ¡°And what if it wasn¡¯t the tip of my claw but a knife in your leg or a sword through your stomach? Could you call on your mana then? Could you channel the spell that could save your life or that of your companions? Because that might determine if you live or die.¡±

    ¡°Is this how you teach people in this world? Stab them until they figure it out?¡±

    ¡°Eventually,¡± Revos explained, not at all sympathetic to the series of scratches and welts that were visible on Mitchell¡¯s arms, legs, neck, and face. ¡°Most children who can channel are identified early on and they have a few years of training to prepare. The first few months are usually devoted just to learning to sense your mana. First, through questing as you have already done, then while doing daily tasks of ever-increasing complexity. Walking around, eating, and exercising, for example. Then, mental challenges are brought in. Only when they¡¯ve mastered all of that is pain introduced into the training. Not all continue past that point. You don¡¯t have that luxury. You need to learn faster if you are to survive.¡±

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    Mitchell wanted to argue but knew that the demonic bastard was right.

    ¡°Fine,¡± Mitchell said, grudgingly. ¡°But can you heal this so the blood stops dripping down my neck?¡±

    Revos leaned down and examined the small wound more closely then said, ¡°No. Not until the session is complete. The distraction will be useful.¡±

    When Allora and Lethelin finally returned they found Mitchell nursing a black eye and Revos with a busted lip and they were glaring at each other from opposite sides of the tent.

    Allora immediately went to Mitchell to check on him and Lethelin just grinned.

    ¡°Stolar¡¯s swinging cock, I always miss the good stuff,¡± the red-headed thief said before chuckling to herself and heading off to skin the few kren that they¡¯d managed to bag. Mitchell had noted the small animals long ago and they were a little similar to rabbits back on earth except for shorter ears and a much longer tail. They were pretty tasty, also.

    As Allora began to heal all of his minor injuries, she asked, ¡°I am guessing you found your mana.¡±

    Mitchell broke his glare away from Revos and looked up at the elfin warrior. She was grinning, too.

    ¡°God damn it,¡± Mitchell mumbled to himself. Allora chose not to comment further.

    *****

    ¡°Svabol batabot?¡±

    That was easy enough. What¡¯s that?

    Lethelin was pointing at the ocean of sand off of the side of the wagon. Sand. He had to answer in their language though. Sand was¡­

    ¡°Inik!¡±

    Lethelin gave him a warm smile. It was her turn to quiz him and he found her a much more patient tutor than Allora who was harsher when he made a mistake. Lethelin said it was because the elf had been raised by Onyx Knights and they were infamous for their rigorous and exacting standards. Despite how much he enjoyed the one-on-one time with Allora, he found himself tensing up when she sat with him. She kept a running tally of his screw-ups when they studied together and when they stopped for the night he was put through one extra minute of calisthenics for every mistake. And this was on top of the normal physical routine that she¡¯d begun running him through. Lethelin only thumped him on the forehead.

    It was the second day after waking up with the heart stone in his chest and Revos had said he expected to come across a road soon. Once they found a road, a town wouldn¡¯t be far off. From the time he woke up until the time he collapsed into his bedroll, he was studying something. Whether it was magic with Revos or Allora, sword forms with just Allora or language with Allora and Lethelin (Revos had flatly refused, saying it was beneath him), he hardly had a moment to himself. Even when he went off behind a rock to relieve himself, someone would shout a question at him which demanded a reply.

    ¡°Make a sentence,¡± Lethelin said. Only she didn¡¯t say that in English, she actually said ¡®urwek vi lex¡¯. Still, after near constant instruction, he found his vocabulary was increasing enough that he understood her. At least with the basic things.

    ¡°Inik ui¡­ rhee.¡±

    Lethelin smirked and said something of which he only caught the word for eat.

    ¡°What?¡±

    Allora spoke up from the front of the wagon where she rode shotgun with Revos.

    ¡°You said the word for sweet. Sand is sweet.¡±

    Mitchell winced and leaned forward without being told. Might as well get it over with. Lethelin flicked him right in the center of his forehead.

    ¡°Again,¡± she commanded, clearly loving that she got to thump the future monarch of Awenor on the head.

    Mitchell leaned back, determined not to rub the tender spot between his eyes, and tried to recall a word that would make sense in a sentence.

    ¡°Inik ui¡­ tish?¡±

    The sand is dry. He hoped.

    Lethelin¡¯s jade eyes sparkled and she nodded.

    ¡°Good.¡±

    *****

    As Mitchell spat out a mouthful of sand, he reflected that it was most definitely not sweet.

    ¡°Why (something) ground?¡± Allora asked him, her voice tight, as she spoke in her still-unfamiliar language.

    ¡°Because my feet got tangled up,¡± Mitchell said, trying not to snap at the woman holding the long wooden stave. She was quite adept at hitting him where it would hurt the most. Without proper practice swords, they had opted to repurpose some of the wood from the cart and make crude swords out of them. Allora said that once they reached a town they could either buy some or have them made.

    ¡°In common,¡± she said in her own tongue.

    Mitchell groaned as he picked himself up, his body feeling like one big bruise. Trying unsuccessfully to clear out the last bit of sand from his mouth, he fought to remember the words he needed.

    ¡°Tagoa¡­¡± Mitchell paused and looked nervously at Allora¡¯s scowling face. He didn¡¯t know the word for tangled in their language.

    ¡°Tagoa uraci?¡± he said, uncertain. Because feet.

    Mitchell braced for the inevitable sting of her practice sword as she found fault with his language but it didn¡¯t come. He must have gotten it right. Instead, she lowered her stave down to her foot and tapped lightly just behind her toes.

    ¡°Keep your weight on the ball of your feet, not your heel.¡±

    Mitchell nodded his understanding.

    ¡°Good. Again.¡±

    *****

    By the time Mitchell and the others reached the road five days later, he was almost wishing for the cages again. Every day followed the same routine. Time spent on the wagon was time spent picking up what language he could. Mitchell would have liked some paper to write things down on as he was sure if he could start making lists to review he would learn faster, but they told him that would need to wait until they came across a town.

    Once they stopped for the night, it was magic practice with Revos and then sword practice with Allora, then a quick meal, then sleep.

    What surprised him is that he didn¡¯t wake up sore each day. Well, not much, anyway. Sore by the end of it, for sure. But not in the morning. Allora did not go easy on him and his workouts and sword practice were as intense as any CrossFit program he¡¯d ever seen, but he was only mildly achy when he awoke.

    He commented on it once to Allora and she said it was a property of the heart stone. It strengthened his body so that he could withstand the power Awen would bestow upon him once they were fully bonded. He would heal faster, recover quicker, not get tired as easily, and his mana reserves would increase faster as well. In addition, the effects would be magnified once they were in Awenor. In Iletish, so far from Awen¡¯s power, she had no connection to him. But once Mitchell got on Awenorian soil, he would become even stronger. Mitchell liked the sound of that.

    ¡°That¡¯s the Diran Road, I believe,¡± Revos called down from the driver¡¯s seat.

    Allora, who¡¯d been dozing as she and Mitchell had taken a break from his language teaching, stood up and looked past Revos to the road that was just barely visible past some small dunes. She could make out a trade caravan off in the distance heading west. Beside her, she felt Mitchell rise and look out as well. Lethelin, napping against one wall, didn¡¯t stir.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Allora asked him. ¡°We can follow that straight to the Skybreaker Peaks.¡±

    ¡°Ivaran had been traveling southwest the entire time, cutting across the country to avoid patrols. We¡¯ve been going directly north for five days now and the Diran Road cuts straight across Iletish as an arrow fired from a bow. I think it¡¯s a good bet. I¡¯d be surprised if we were more than a day or two from the next town. Maybe Besai. There¡¯s an excellent bathhouse in Basai.¡±

    Allora smiled and almost groaned at the idea of a bath. Finally some good news. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, she turned to where Mitchell stood behind her, studying the landscape. She pointed to the road.

    ¡°Donap,¡± she said. Then she traced her finger along the path. ¡°Diran Donap¡±.

    ¡°Donap,¡± he said. Then repeated what was presumably the same word in his language. It sounded to her ears like he said ¡®ro-uud¡¯ but she nodded anyway, assuming he understood her.

    A day, maybe two, and they would have a bath, a bed, and some decent food. Finally.

 Chapter 15

    The clorvol moved much faster on the hard-packed road than it had over land. It wasn¡¯t as fast as a horse, which Mitchell saw they had an equivalent in this world, a creature called a jivi. As their wagon joined the Diran Road, Mitchell got his first opportunity to see something other than his companions and their now-dead captors.

    He had learned that while Lethelin was a human, Revos was a cambion. They were a demonic race that was shunned by most other societies. They had their own small kingdom somewhere north of Awenor where they lived mostly in isolation. They were considered untrustworthy and duplicitous owing to their demonic nature and Revos had said that, while tales of their chicanery were wildly exaggerated, the reputation wasn¡¯t totally without merit. They tended to be powerful practitioners of the mystical arts, however, and, given their natural affinity for fire magic, they were considered a fearsome race.

    Allora was an elf, which was one of the most populous races Tewadunn, the other two being humans and dwarves. Mitchell saw a few dwarves on the road. They weren¡¯t as squat and hairy as Tolkien would have had him believe, but there was a notable height difference compared to humans. The tallest one he had seen so far among the caravans that passed was barely five and a half feet tall. And they all tended to be thickly muscled from what he could see. He also saw another race that Allora said were gnomes. They basically fit the bill of what he was expecting. He didn¡¯t see many of them and he learned that they avoided hot climates, preferring forests.

    Mitchell marveled at the similarities between fantasy tales from his world and the reality of this new place. Was there some kind of shared consciousness that disseminated these stories across worlds and universes? Was dimensional travel happening all the time? Everything he saw only generated more questions.

    Mitchell had grown up in a world with no magic and only one surviving humanoid race. Humans had evolved on Earth, and they had the fossil record to prove it. Yet there was a human woman sitting not three feet from him that had not been born on Earth. The whole idea fascinated him. Mitchell had always enjoyed the life sciences and had a better-than-average understanding of things like evolution. Everything told him that having humans evolve simultaneously on two planets would be next to impossible. The Star Trek model where all the aliens were bipedal with binocular vision and ten fingers and toes was not how it should really work. Yet he was looking at two different humanoid species besides Lethelin¡¯s. As much as he wanted to get to the bottom of it, he decided it was a question best left for another day. Besides which, he wasn¡¯t sure the penalties would be worth it given all the language mistakes he would make trying to explain genetic mutations and allele frequencies.

    Allora had explained that the Diran Road was one of the main trade arteries through Iletish. Given the mostly flat terrain of the country, at least in the central part, it allowed for a nearly straight road that ran from the mountains¨Cthe Skybreaker peaks she called them¨Cin the west to the capital city, Mosira near the country¡¯s eastern border.

    Thanks to a chat with another trade caravan, they learned that they were only two or three days away from a place called Basai, a town Allora said was perhaps a week¡¯s journey from the mountains. With good weather, it would be a week or two over the peaks and then they would be in Awenor.

    Their wagon pushed on and Revos explained that the risk of any problems along the road was minimal. The Scorpion Guard patrolled heavily and there was a bounty on things like wild clorvols which kept their numbers down. Given the dry terrain and the difficulty in farming, Iletish was very dependent on foodstuffs from other lands and the guard took their duties seriously.

    Now that they were along the road there were trade stops that travelers could avail themselves of if they wanted to spend the coin. Just as back home, it seemed people here were always looking for an opportunity to make a buck and Mitchell saw vendors offering a wide variety of goods and services. Allora took the opportunity to buy them some more comfortable clothes and Mitchell was finally able to get out of the filthy rags he¡¯d been wearing for nearly a month.

    The clothing was a loose-fitting linen-like material that allowed his skin to breathe much more than his denim had. The shoes were also surprisingly comfortable. They were leather-soled and sewn into them was a canvas-like material that went up to around mid-calf with a cord that laced it in place. The leather was supple and it felt much more natural walking on the often sandy surface than his sneakers had been.

    Eying himself as he moved around experimentally in the new gear, he said, ¡°I look like Aladdin.¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± Lethelin asked as she lounged in the back of their wagon.

    ¡°It¡¯s a¡­¡± He paused not knowing the word for character. ¡°A person from a story. In the¡­story he dresses kind of like this.¡±

    Mitchell plucked at the loose garments and the shirt made from the same material that was belted closed across his chest.

    ¡°What is the story about?¡± Lethelin looked intrigued.

    ¡°Well, the Disney story is about a poor beggar who finds a magic thing¡­cup that has a powerful creature in it that gives him¡­ what he wants. He can ask for three things.¡±

    Talking around the words he didn¡¯t know was almost like a game.

    ¡°But you said there was no magic on your world.¡±

    ¡°There isn¡¯t, but we have stories with magical creatures and people who use magic. But on my world, they¡¯re just stories. It¡¯s not real.¡±

    ¡°There is some magic,¡± Allora chimed in from the side of the wagon, securing some packages of supplies she¡¯d purchased with their plundered coin. ¡°But it is very weak.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Mitchell asked. He understood her almost perfectly. Almost two weeks of near-total immersion in the language with a punishing study schedule had yielded results. He wasn¡¯t even close to fluent but basic conversations were coming easier.

    ¡°It took many days to refill my mana reservoir once I had exhausted it. And even then it felt¡­ thin.¡±

    With the packages secured, she joined him at the back of the wagon and began to belt on her sword and the long dagger she wore on her opposite hip. She was wearing similar clothing to him but somehow she looked regal. The loose fabric still clung to the curves of her hips and her ample breasts swelled the front of her shirt. Mitchell worked hard not to stare. He did not want to get an erection in these pants.

    ¡°Maybe your world once had magic but something changed resulting in a very mana-poor environment.¡±

    Mitchell wondered if there had been more magic in his universe in the past. Maybe that¡¯s where the stories came from. Maybe the legends and myths were based on truth but it had stopped for some reason.

    ¡°I found a cekip,¡± Revos said from behind Mitchell. ¡°We can finally determine what mana types he has.¡±

    ¡°Excellent,¡± Allora said.

    Over the last several days his magic training had continued, but it had been all theory. Revos had said that, until they figured out what kinds of mana he had access to, it wasn¡¯t safe for him to continue to the next stages of his education. Without any practical training, however, he had learned a good deal about how the magic functioned.

    While mana was all around them all the time, only some creatures had the capacity to harness it and direct the flows, something they called channeling. Of the humanoid races, the ones that could channel were born with a sort of reservoir that could absorb mana from the environment and be used in spellcasting. At the lower levels, spells were constructed purely in the mind. It involved channeling the desired mana type into a rune that you formed in your head. Once you could access your mana reservoir, select the type you wanted, and push it into a rune with your will, the spell would take effect. The more powerful the spell, the more complex the rune, the more mana it took to create, and the more will it took to direct it. Then there were the gemstones.

    Each mana type had a corresponding gemstone that could be used to focus the mana more efficiently. You could cast spells without it but, the way Mitchell understood it, it was kind of like sending hot water down a long uninsulated pipe. Much of the heat would be lost by the time the water came out the other end and so it was with casting spells without gemstones to focus the energy. The effect was a less powerful spell and a significantly higher mana cost to achieve the same effect. Different mana types resonated with different gemstones and this allowed them to be used as a focus and to more easily direct the channeled mana.

    It wasn¡¯t without cost, though. Channeling through the gemstones produced minute fractures and cracks that built up over time, leading to a reduction of efficiency and, eventually, the stone would shatter. As such, they had to be replaced periodically, which meant buying more. The more powerful the spell one cast, the more stress it placed on the stones used in the casting and the faster they would deteriorate. Larger stones lasted longer than smaller stones but were more expensive. Stones with flaws in them would deteriorate faster than stones of higher quality.

    The number of mana types someone could access also determined what type of magic user they were. Someone who could only access one or two mana types was called a sprite. A witch or a warlock was someone who could channel three to four. An arcanist could channel five to seven, and a full mage could channel all eight types of mana. Mitchell learned that while Allora was considered a witch, Revos was a full arcanist. He liked to argue that he was actually a mage because his fire magic gave him an extra source of power to draw on. But since it was a characteristic of his race rather than a type of mana he could draw on, scholars said it didn¡¯t count. Revos said they could get fucked.

    ¡°This will tell me what kind of mana I can use?¡± Mitchell asked as Revos handed Allora a leather band about two inches wide and almost two feet long. ¡°Or if I¡¯m a sprite or an arcanist?¡±

    ¡°It will,¡± she replied while critically examining the item. ¡°Poor quality, but it will do.¡±

    In the fading light, Mitchell could see the glint of several small stones set into the leather as she checked it.

    Flipping it over, she shook her head.

    ¡°They did not even link the stones,¡± she scoffed. ¡°I hope you did not pay much for this.¡±

    ¡°I know my business, woman. It¡¯s what was available,¡± Revos replied, his voice flat. ¡°If you want, I can return it and we can wait until we get to Awenor.¡±

    Allora gave him a wry look and then turned away without answering.

    ¡°Mitchell, would you join me, please?¡±

    Allora shooed Lethelin from the back of the wagon before hopping into it herself. Then, she sat with her back resting against one wall. Mitchell followed and soon they were seated cross-legged across from each other in a very familiar position. Many hours had been spent like this as they traveled, either practicing language or learning to access his mana. Once he was comfortable and Lethelin and Revos had joined them, Allora handed him the leather strap. Not wanting to risk any misunderstandings, she cast her language spell on him and Mitchell felt that familiar tingle as it took effect.

    ¡°This is a cekip. Embedded into the leather are eight small gemstones, one for each mana type.¡±

    Mitchell saw that there were indeed eight different gemstones of different colors, each one smaller than a pea. Arranged in a rough octagonal shape, they went all the way through and were visible on both sides. The band tapered off on each end and Mitchell assumed it was meant to be tied around his head.

    ¡°Here,¡± Allora said, pointing to a shape that had been pressed into the side of the leather and inside the circle of the gemstones, ¡°is a basic mana rune.¡±

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    It was nothing more than a circle with eight lines radiating out from the center, the tip of each one ending at one of the gemstones.

    ¡°While accessing your mana reservoir, I want you to imagine this rune and then imagine pushing your mana into it. The rune will separate the mana as it flows into the cekip and each gem that lights up will tell us what mana you can access. Once we know that, we can begin instructing you in some spells.

    The rune was simple enough and Mitchell knew he would have no trouble holding it in his head while he channeled.

    ¡°Will it hurt?¡± Mitchell asked, eyeing Allora suspiciously.

    She blushed slightly, the embarrassment of her previous falsehood still fresh in her mind.

    ¡°No, it is painless,¡± she assured him.

    ¡°If channeling hurts, you¡¯re doing something wrong,¡± Revos said from his spot at the back of the wagon.

    ¡°All kids who can channel do it on their seventh name day,¡± Lethelin said, perhaps trying to reassure him. ¡°Anyone who can channel, even a sprite, can be a huge boon to a family. Not me, though. As dun as they come.¡±

    ¡°Dun?¡± Mitchell asked.

    ¡°A rather unkind word for someone with no magical talent,¡± Allora explained.

    Mitchell was a little shocked that anyone would call Lethelin dun, magic or no. She was strikingly beautiful.

    Lethelin only shrugged.

    ¡°Kids can be little shits,¡± she said by way of explanation, ¡°especially when they have magic and you don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°But it¡¯s okay,¡± her voice took on a chipper note. ¡°Mira never lets me down.¡±

    Lethelin pulled out the long stiletto that she kept tucked under her cloak on her back and kissed the blade lovingly.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that right, baby?¡±

    Mitchell remembered that blade cutting through Ivaran¡¯s cheek and the mess of his body she had made after he stopped watching. He suppressed a shudder.

    ¡°Anyway,¡± Allora said, bringing them back to attention. ¡°It will not hurt and should only take a moment.¡±

    Mitchell placed the band on his head as instructed and tied it firmly in place. He told Allora that he could feel each stone where it contacted his skin, which was important. While it would work without skin-to-stone contact, it was more efficient if there was nothing between the two. Efficiency seemed to be the name of the game when it came to casting. It was all about finding ways to direct as much of one¡¯s mana as possible into a spell without it going to waste.

    She showed him her own headband which was designed in a similar way. Hers was different though. Around each stone was a delicate filigree of gold and silver wires that ran all through the headband. He had seen her swap stones a few times and his cekip didn¡¯t have any such functionality. Hers was designed to make it easy to slot new stones in when they needed to be replaced. Allora explained that this cekip was made with low-quality stones and only intended for a handful of uses before it was thrown away.

    ¡°Now, with the rune held firmly in your mind, channel your mana by pushing it into the rune and directing it at the one on the back of the cekip. Your mana should respond to your will once you give it a direction to flow.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡±

    After days spent accessing his mana reservoir under Revos¡¯s brutal tutelage, it was easy now. Especially without anyone poking or prodding him in ever more painful ways. He almost didn¡¯t even have to think about it before the mana was there, eager to do his bidding. As she had instructed, he pushed his mana toward the rune and, to his surprise, the mana went. It was the strangest feeling. He felt a slight pressure in his head, not painful but just there, and his mana seemed to flow forward where he wanted it to go. It found the rune in his mind and he felt it begin to fill the mental lines he had drawn.

    He was about to announce his success with his first-ever spell when something went terribly wrong.

    Mitchell felt white-hot needles of agony where the gemstones came into contact with his skin and before he could even scream or pull the cekip off, there were several loud popping sounds that reverberated in his head and he was thrown back into the wagon. Through a haze of pain, he heard both women scream in surprise, and Revos uttered a loud curse.

    ¡°What in Stollar¡¯s hairy taint was that!¡± Lethelin shouted in shock.

    Mitchell tried to open his eyes but something wet was clouding his vision. He went to wipe it away but his arms didn¡¯t want to respond. The smell of burnt meat filled his mouth and nose. He wanted to gag but he couldn¡¯t move.

    ¡°Get the cekip off him!¡± Revos called from somewhere. ¡°What¡¯s left of it.¡±

    ¡°Mitchell!¡± Allora¡¯s voice this time, panicked. ¡°Mitchell, say something.¡±

    ¡°Did it blow a hole in his head?¡± Lethelin asked, also sounding scared.

    There was a tugging sensation and Mitchell thought it was the cekip being taken off but he couldn¡¯t feel much. His thoughts were sluggish and his body didn¡¯t want to respond to any of his commands.

    ¡°Shock,¡± he thought to himself. ¡°And I might have a hole in my head. That¡¯s nice.¡±

    A second later he felt the warm tingle of healing magic flow through him. Then the pain followed. His forehead was on fire. He could only groan in response and even that was a pitiful sound.

    Over the next few minutes, as Allora exhausted her mana reservoirs healing him, he began to regain some of his senses. While Allora maintained the spell, Lethelin washed the blood off his face and he could finally open his eyes. What greeted him was the sight of a tear-streaked Allora leaning over him, some of his blood splattered on face and her new shirt. She had several tiny scratches marring her flawless skin.

    As his bleary eyes found hers, she choked off a sob.

    ¡°You will be okay!¡± It sounded more pleading than confident.

    He was still dazed but his limbs were working, mostly. He reached up slowly and wiped away one of her tears.

    ¡°I think I got blood on your new shirt,¡± Mitchell said. His voice was thick and his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. ¡°Sorry.¡±

    ¡°Move over girl, you¡¯re almost drained. Let me take over.¡±

    Revos was suddenly there, his massive form blocking out the sky as he worked his healing magic to repair the damage from whatever had happened.

    ¡°Who sold you the cekip?¡± Lethelin asked. ¡°Mira and I have some questions for him.¡±

    ¡°Red tent next to the fountain,¡± Revos said, his voice strained as he poured magic into Mitchell. ¡°A dwarf named Gellick. I¡¯ve got some questions too, so don¡¯t kill him. Yet.¡±

    ¡°Be right back.¡±

    Mitchell closed his eyes, too exhausted to keep them open any longer, but he didn¡¯t sleep. He felt an ache in his left hand and realized it was Allora clutching it while she whispered prayers to Vish. It was uncomfortably tight but he didn¡¯t try to pull it away.

    ¡°That should hold for now,¡± Revos said, finally. ¡°I¡¯ll want him to eat something before I try anymore.¡±

    The cambion¡¯s thumb wiped across Mitchell''s forehead and he grunted in satisfaction.

    ¡°There shouldn¡¯t even be a scar,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re lucky, boy. I¡¯ve never seen a cekip explode before. Thank Stollar¡¯s nipples none of the shards of gemstone pierced your skull. Maybe all that thumping from Lethelin toughened you up a bit.¡±

    Mitchell grunted and tried to sit up but Revos held him down.

    ¡°Don¡¯t try to move just yet. More healing may be needed. I have to rest a little bit and you require some food. But first, I have a merchant to question.¡±

    He left the wagon and it was just him and Allora. She¡¯d regained her composure but her eyes were red-rimmed and moist.

    ¡°Mitchell, I did not lie to you, I swear. That is not supposed to happen. I do not know¡­¡± A pained look crossed her face. ¡°We test children! The same was done to me when I was a girl. Cekips don¡¯t explode. Even poorly made ones such as that. It is a painless process!¡±

    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s okay,¡± Mitchell said, trying to reassure her. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault. Can we talk later though? I¡¯m¡­ really tired.¡±

    The healing must have been extensive. The way they¡¯d explained it, the magic just amplified the body¡¯s natural biological process, so it could still take a lot out of someone.

    She gave him a weary grin. ¡°Of course.¡±

    ¡°And my hand?¡±

    Allora looked down at where she clutched his, noticed how white the skin was around her powerful grip and released him immediately.

    ¡°I am sorry,¡± she said.

    ¡°No, don¡¯t be.¡± Mitchell flexed his hand letting the blood flow back into it and then found hers once more, holding it gently this time.

    ¡°I just want to rest for a minute,¡± he told her, his voice getting heavy with exhaustion. ¡°Will you stay with me?¡±

    ¡°Always.¡±

    Mitchell felt the smile at the corner of his lips as he slid into sleep.

    It was the hunger pains that woke him up. His stomach felt like he hadn¡¯t eaten in days. As he started to shift he felt a weight on his chest. Opening his eyes, he could make out the back of Allora¡¯s head where she had lain down on him. He watched her for a moment and saw that her breathing was slow and even. He also noticed that his arm was around her and that she was nestled into him. Feeling the warmth and the weight of her pressing down on him Mitchell realized that this was the first real human contact he¡¯d had with anyone in more than a month. Mitchell had forgotten how good it felt to hold someone. Almost involuntarily, his arm squeezed her tighter.

    Mitchell could almost imagine that they weren¡¯t charging toward their death on a hopeless suicide mission to save a magical kingdom. Rather, he was with his girlfriend on a camping trip somewhere outside Scottsdale. He could pick up his phone and play her some Otis Redding or Van Morrison and they could slow dance in the Arizona twilight. Then, when they finished dancing, they would retreat into their tent to make passionate love until they collapsed in each other''s arms until the morning sun.

    Mitchell had almost lost himself in the fantasy when the wind shifted and the musky scent of their clorvol rolled over the back of the wagon. You didn¡¯t get smells like that in Arizona. Reluctantly, he pulled himself away from his imaginings of a happier world and tried to move. He needed to eat. The healing must have been way more extensive than he¡¯d thought at first. He felt like his stomach was eating a hole in itself.

    He began to shift, hoping not to wake Allora, but it was a futile attempt. She arose almost instantly and sat up, her eyes blinking rapidly and her hand reaching for her waist where her sword would have been. Then, she remembered where she was and looked down at Mitchell.

    ¡°You are awake.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said and sat up. There was a slight ache in his head but other than that he felt okay. Physically at least.

    ¡°Revos said you should eat.¡±

    Allora reached over and pulled a small satchel to her and pulled out some flatbread and cheese. They sat in companionable silence as he devoured the food, pausing only to drink thirstily from a waterskin. As he chewed, he checked the time. Vish was more than three-quarters of the way across the sky which meant dawn was only about two hours away. No doubt Revos and Lethelin would be awake soon. The sky still dazzled him at night. He didn¡¯t think he would ever get tired of seeing it.

    Once Mitchell had consumed the entire contents of the satchel, which had also contained some dried fruits, he felt able to speak. Allora cast the language spell on him without needing to be asked, indicating that she expected the conversation to be beyond his still-limited ability.

    ¡°So, what happened? Was it a bad cekip?¡±

    Allora grimaced.

    ¡°We do not think so. The merchant had two others and they were all of similar quality. The dwarf even tested it on one of his own children to prove there was nothing shady going on.¡±

    ¡°So what, then?¡±

    ¡°When Revos returned he did some examination of your mana reservoir, which is something he had not thought to do before.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t do this normally?¡±

    ¡°It is not something I know how to do,¡± she replied. ¡°But, as an arcanist, his magical knowledge far exceeds mine. He found something shocking and thinks he knows why the cekip almost killed you.¡±

    ¡°Am I¡­ broken?¡± Mitchell asked her, suddenly terrified that he wouldn¡¯t be able to use magic at all.

    ¡°Far from it!¡± Allora said. ¡°Your mana reservoir is¡­. Well, according to Revos, your mana reservoir is immense. Impossibly so. As someone who only just started using magic, it should be a fraction of that size. It takes years of study, focus, and spellcasting to grow one¡¯s reservoir to the size you already have.¡±

    ¡°How is that possible?¡±

    ¡°We think it is because of the mage catchers,¡± she said.

    Mitchell said nothing, waiting for her to explain.

    ¡°You were born with a mana reservoir, even though you lived in a realm with almost no mana and no magic. Living in such a place, your reservoir was never used and so it laid dormant your whole life. But the reservoir was still in you and it wanted to be filled. Mana is drawn to it. When you arrived here the mage catchers were put on you immediately as a precaution. Ivaran did not know that you could not use magic, but since the mage catchers worked on you, he left them on.¡±

    Mitchell had not forgotten the sickening feeling he¡¯d had when he wore them. The bottom dropping out of his stomach, the nausea, and the throbbing headache.

    Allora continued.

    ¡°With the constant drain on your mana reservoir, your body adapted, trying to fill itself. It began drawing more and more even though it was being taken out of your body as fast as it was brought in. But the side effect was that your reservoir began to expand and grow as if you were using it. Constantly, for days.¡±

    As Mitchell pondered her words, the less sense they seemed to make.

    ¡°If this happens every time someone uses mage catchers wouldn¡¯t you just be making them stronger? Why wouldn¡¯t magic users use the mage catchers as a way to strengthen themselves?¡±

    ¡°Your reservoir has a fixed size, much like your height. Practice will help it achieve its full potential but it can¡¯t be increased beyond its natural limit. Most people reach their full potential before their twentieth high sun if they have had sufficient study. And since almost all children are tested and given the ability to develop their magical talents¨Cin Awenor, at least¨CI do not think anyone ever thought to put mage catchers on children to accelerate the process. It might even do more harm than good. Putting mage catchers on an adult would do nothing to their mana reservoir except drain it.¡±

    Mitchell thought he understood.

    ¡°So, it¡¯s not that my reservoir is impossibly large, it''s that the mage catchers allowed it to grow really fast in a short time? I¡¯m already at my full size?¡±

    ¡°That is what we think, yes,¡± Allora nodded.

    She reached down and picked up the charred remains of the cekip. The center was blown completely out, it was stained black with his blood, and it was only held together in the front by the barest piece of material.

    ¡°This was never intended to channel that level of mana. Without knowing what you were doing, you unleashed the full force of your mana into something designed to accept the amount of mana a child could channel. It exploded, as any gemstone would if it was over-charged.¡±

    Mitchell reached out and she handed him the ruined cekip. Just that level of handling snapped the little bit of burnt leather that was still holding it together. He turned it over, examining it in the moon¡¯s pale light.

    ¡°Is this some of my skin?¡± He asked, pointing to bits of charred something along the edges of where the stones had once been.

    Allora leaned forward, seeing where he indicated, then arched an eyebrow. ¡°I believe so. You will be quite powerful when you have mastered your skills.¡±

    The idea made Mitchell a little giddy. He wasn¡¯t broken and he would be a powerful wizard or mage or whatever.

    ¡°Do we know what kind of user I am? Were you able to see what mana types I have before it exploded?¡±

    ¡°I did,¡± Allora grinned. ¡°Before it exploded six of the eight gemstones were illuminated. You are an arcanist!¡±

 Chapter 16

    ¡°We are going to go through the first three basic sword movements but this time I want you to hold the light cantrip in your mind as you perform each one. Hold it but don¡¯t release it. Do you understand?¡±

    Mitchell nodded and Lethelin saw him set his feet, bring his practice sword into the ready position, and a look of concentration descended over him as it always did when he quested for his mana. Allora stepped back then and Revos moved a little closer, no doubt to better sense when his human student had ahold of the power and when he lost it. Then, they began. Mitchell almost made it through the first movement before Revos barked at him to start again. He grimaced, set his feet once more, and did as he was instructed.

    They would reach Basari sometime in the morning and Lethelin knew Allora would ask her to continue on with them. She could see it in the way the elf had been watching her. Almost a year in the making, her personal mission of vengeance was finally over. She thought that she would feel a great sense of fulfillment once Ivaran had lain dead at her feet and, while it was there, it also wasn¡¯t what she thought it would be. The elf who raped and killed her mother was dead along with the men in his squad who had covered for him. She was glad that it was her hand that had brought them to justice. Finally, her mother could rest in peace.

    Except that last part was a lie and Lethelin knew it.

    Maribeth would not have wanted this for her only daughter. Vengeance is a dark night that blinds all who seek it. That¡¯s what her mother would have said. The woman was so stoic and imperturbable that sometimes Lethelin had wanted to scream at her and, in fact, had done so often enough. The thief felt the deep well of shame swell inside her chest and swallowed thickly as if she could force it back down.

    ¡°If you hadn¡¯t stayed away so long, if you hadn¡¯t let your stubborn pride get in the way and apologized¡­¡± that little voice said inside her mind.

    Almost unconsciously her hand went for the hilt of her stiletto and squeezed. Luckily she was saved from another walk down that painful path by the crack of Revos¡¯s voice and Lethelin¡¯s eyes once again focused on the sword and magic practice that Mitchell had been enduring almost nightly since they were freed.

    ¡°You must hold the lines firm in your mind. It must be instant!¡± Revos barked at Mitchell. ¡°There can be no hesitation or you risk the spell collapsing and being struck down by the feedback of the dispersing energy. How many times must I explain it?!?¡±

    ¡°I am trying!¡± Mitchell barked back.

    For a moment Lethelin thought he was going to swing the practice blade at the towering cambion but he held his temper. Her respect for him grew slightly at that.

    ¡°Try harder,¡± Revos growled back. ¡°Back to the first position.¡±

    She looked at Allora standing off to the side. The beautiful elf was trying to look unconcerned but Lethelin could see the tension etched across her athletic form. Allora hid it well, though. Lethelin had to give credit where it was due. The knight kept a firm countenance as she watched Mitchell try to go through the motions she had drilled him on for the last several days while holding onto a spell rune in his mind. But every time Revos reprimanded him or, worse still, whipped him with some small line of magically-hardened air or a tiny shock spell, Lethelin saw the elfin warrior flinch. She was doing her best to look stern and unrelenting but it was clear how much the pain of Mitchell¡¯s training was hurting her.

    ¡°The fish-brained girl is in love with him and doesn¡¯t even know it,¡± Lethelin thought to herself and shook her head slightly. Not that there wasn¡¯t much to admire, Lethelin thought.

    The night when Allora revealed that he was the next monarch of Awenor had been a shock for sure. And when she drew her blade on him¨Ca true blade of an Onyx Knight, no less!--Lethelin thought for sure the woman would kill him. She couldn¡¯t help but agree that, at that moment, she thought him a coward too, the same as Allora. But then she learned a little more about the foreigner and had come to suspect his reluctance had more to do with the strange way in which he¡¯d been brought here. Revos had filled her in on much when they¡¯d been out hunting together and she didn¡¯t envy what had happened to him. She tried to imagine what it would be like to be pulled into a strange world so alien from one¡¯s own and thought she might want to bolt, too.

    But then he¡¯d surprised everyone. Mitchell said he would stay and help Allora reclaim Awenor. Despite herself, she felt a swelling of pride that this stranger who didn¡¯t know the sword or magic, nor even how to speak the language, would take up the fight for her homeland.

    Lethelin had never been much for patriotism. Sure, her father had been a city guardsman for Varset, but she was a thief and part-time assassin. The fish couldn¡¯t swim much farther from the school, as far as she was concerned. She didn¡¯t pay taxes and she only followed the law when it was convenient for her. What difference did it make to her who sat on the Onyx Throne or if there even was one? There was always coin to be lifted from an unwary pocket and an occasional throat to slit if she felt they deserved it so why should she care? Yet suddenly, she did. She saw how hard Allora was fighting, how thin that last thread of hope was to which she still clung. But Stollar¡¯s swinging cock if she wasn¡¯t hanging on like a reef snake to a fisherman¡¯s leg.

    The thief had no doubt that Allora would have faced any challenge and fought any opponent until her last breath to save Awen and their home. In the face of such staggering courage and determination, how could Lethelin do less?

    Her whole life she had heard stories of the famed Onyx Knights. Catching sight of them during the parades at High Sun and the winter solstice as a child had always been cause for excitement. There was barely a boy or girl alive who didn¡¯t dream of becoming part of their ranks at some point. And here she was now, traveling with one. Maybe the last one if the stories were true.

    For centuries, they had been the famed defenders of Awenor and Lethelin had long suspected that the real reason the people didn¡¯t fight harder to throw off Milandris and drive out his mercenaries was that the shock of losing the Knights had struck the entire nation dumb and left them partially paralyzed with grief. People roamed around listlessly for weeks after the news spread and were a pushover when Milandris¡¯s own soldiers and functionaries had taken control. Monarchs came and went but the Knights had always been there, as stalwart as the Skybreaker Peaks themselves. Until suddenly they weren¡¯t. Lethelin couldn¡¯t think of a more effective way to undercut the will and spirit of the Awenorians to fight back than that.

    ¡°Better,¡± Revos¡¯s voice echoed across the barren sand. ¡°Now, do it again. Faster this time.¡±

    Lethelin¡¯s eyes tracked Mitchell as he moved back to his starting position. His chest and back were covered in welts, a few of which dripped blood. His muscles were hard and glinted with perspiration in the fading light. Allora¡¯s punishing physical training, along with a better diet than he¡¯d gotten while a prisoner, had thickened him up nicely. He didn¡¯t argue with Revos. He never once complained during his training. He set his rather impressive shoulders, tightened his jaw, and did as he was asked until he got it right.

    Being dun, Lethelin had only second-hand knowledge of what went on at the various magic training academies that the throne subsidized. But even with limited information, she knew that the pace that Revos and Allora were working him was unheard of. And the brutality of it was sometimes shocking to her. She didn¡¯t think she would have put up with it. She could see Mitchell start to crack sometimes. The anger at the constant small pains inflicted by Revos grew in him like a storm surge, but then he would look at Allora who was always nearby and he would find it somewhere within him to control that rage and push on. She thought she could follow someone like that. She¡¯d worked for men and women in the gangs that didn¡¯t have half the will Mitchell displayed every night. Oh, they were hard-bitten killers, to be sure. Not a one of them wouldn¡¯t gut you and sell you for chum if you crossed them, but she knew they would have crumpled under the intensity of the training Mitchell was enduring. That was worth something, Lethelin thought.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    Revos called a break after Mitchell completed the series of sword blocks and parries for the third time while holding the rune in his mind and she watched as Mitchell stalked over to the water barrel and took a long drink. He then went off a bit and sat down on a rock to rest, saying nothing to anyone. Lethelin watched Allora as she gazed at him and saw her start to take a step towards him and then hesitate.

    ¡°Go to him, you silly sea cow,¡± Lethelin muttered under her breath. ¡°He¡¯s doing this for you.¡±

    But of course, she didn¡¯t. Instead, she turned and searched for Lethelin, her eyes passing over her for a moment before moving back and settling on her, her face slightly confused, then began walking towards her.

    ¡°Are you sure you have no magical talents?¡± Allora asked with a small frown on her full lips.

    ¡°They tested me twice when I was a kid, just to be sure. I¡¯ve got the reservoir but it¡¯s inert. Can¡¯t even light a candle.¡±

    ¡°It is odd,¡± Allora responded. ¡°Sometimes, it is like you are not there. I knew you were sitting on the wagon, but when I looked you were not there. Then you were.¡±

    Lethelin grinned to herself. It was something her mentor had called her knack. Not magic exactly, but something she could do. If she sat still for long enough people sort of forgot about her or didn¡¯t notice her. In her line of work, it came in very handy. She had become quite adept at sitting unmoving for long stretches at a time.

    Instead of trying to explain that to Allora, she only shrugged.

    ¡°Did you need something?¡± the thief asked her.

    Deciding not to press the issue, Allora switched topics. ¡°We will arrive in Basari tomorrow. I want to know if you will continue on with us. Frankly, we could use you. We have few friends across the peaks and every blade will help.¡±

    Lethelin looked at the woman as if sizing her up. Allora was strikingly beautiful, even for an elf. Her long black hair shimmered in the orange light of dusk and it hung almost preternaturally still even as the dry wind blew across the dunes. Her violet eyes were intense and penetrating and her dedication to her quest to save Awen almost seemed to glow from within her adding to the power of her gaze. More than once Lethelin found herself drawn to the Knight¡¯s eyes as if they were a lodestone and she nothing more than iron filings.

    Allora¡¯s body was not lost on Lethelin, either. Tall as most men, she was as female as they came. Lethelin envied her bust and the curve of her hips. Allora had the kind of breasts men¨Cand some women¨Cwere always fawning over. Standing next to her, Lethelin felt more like a boy than a woman with her flatter chest and slimmer physique. The gap in her shirt and the swelling of cleavage there drew Lethelin¡¯s attention as often as the damn woman¡¯s eyes did. And though the newer baggier clothing hid the curves of her hips and rear, Lethelin remembered well enough how she had looked in the strange garments from Mitchell¡¯s world. It had been some time since she¡¯d been with a woman but, if Allora ever invited her into her bed, Lethelin would have gone.

    ¡°What¡¯s in it for me?¡± Lethelin said, feigning disinterest rather than letting her mind get too tangled up in fantasies of Allora¡¯s legs wrapped around her head. If she was going to bargain she needed to have her game face on.

    Allora blinked in incomprehension.

    ¡°You want payment?¡±

    ¡°This is a job offer, isn¡¯t it? If I do a job, I expect to get paid. It¡¯s only fair.¡±

    ¡°We are fighting for the life of Awen herself and the salvation of our entire kingdom! How can you speak of payment for something like that?¡±

    Lethelin did feel a small twinge of guilt at that. Allora was right and Lethelin knew it, but a girl still had to eat. Anyway, it was in her blood. Patient as her mother might have been, she¡¯d still run a shop in Varset and could haggle a councilman out of his breeches if she needed to.

    ¡°Last I checked, patriotism didn¡¯t put a fish on the hook. I work for coin. I can see that¡¯s in short supply at the moment but I¡¯m willing to accept that you¡¯re good for it. If you actually manage to pull it off, that is. If I¡¯m going to be a part of that, then I expect to be well compensated.

    Allora¡¯s nostrils flared and she crossed her arms across her chest which only accentuated her breasts and nearly made Lethelin forget what she was bargaining for. The longing she felt only reminded her how long it had been since she¡¯d lain with someone. Watching Mitchell dance around shirtless and sweaty had not been helping, either.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s hairy taint, Leth, stop thinking about sex!¡± she chided herself. ¡°Cast your line right and this could set you up for life!¡±

    Allora tried to stare her down and Lethelin had to admit that it was a good glare. She held her ground though, knowing that she had the bait the woman needed to catch her fish. After a long moment, Lethelin saw some of the tension ease out of Allora¡¯s shoulders as she made the decision to agree to Lethelin¡¯s terms.

    ¡°How much do you want?¡± Allora asked. Her voice was tight with annoyance.

    ¡°Not much,¡± Lethelin paused. Did she dare? ¡°Five thousand Awenorian crowns should suffice.¡±

    Allora¡¯s eyes bulged. ¡°What on Tewadunn could you possibly need with five thousand crowns? Castles have been built for less!¡±

    Lethelin gave her a slow smile.

    ¡°That¡¯s not really your concern. It¡¯s my price. You want me to join you, to trek across the peaks, charge headlong into Milandris¡¯s army and risk my life on a mission that will probably fail and see us beheaded and our bodies thrown to the blood pikes, I want five thousand crowns. And look at it this way: If we fail you don¡¯t have to pay me a single copper. But if we actually manage to succeed I¡¯ll have helped you save Awen herself. I think that¡¯s worth it.¡±

    For a moment Lethelin worried she had overplayed her hand as she watched Allora resist the urge to throttle her, but a voice suddenly spoke up from behind the elf, surprising both of them.

    ¡°Deal.¡±

    It was Mitchell. He¡¯d come over and must have overheard at least some of the conversation and understood enough to agree to her terms. He was learning fast.

    Allora¡¯s head swung around to see him standing there, still shirtless, his chest a criss-cross pattern of welts, blisters, and singe marks.

    ¡°Mitchell, you do not understand how much that is. She is asking for an insane sum. You could fund a colony across the Olydian Ocean with four ships and supplies for a year for less than she is asking.

    It was clear to Lethelin that he didn¡¯t understand all of her words but he apparently understood enough.

    ¡°We need her, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but¨C¡± Allora began but Mitchell interrupted.

    ¡°Then we should pay her fee. She already knows about me and you and she¡¯s already here. I think it¡¯s safer to have her on our side than trying to sell information about us to whatever mercenary group she comes across.¡±

    His accent hurt Lethelin¡¯s ears and he made mistakes, but Lethelin understood what he meant easily enough. So did Allora.

    ¡°You should close your mouth before it fills with sand fleas,¡± Lethelin said to the incredulous elf, a smirk forming on her lips.

    The glare Allora turned her way was enough to shut her up though. Lethelin wisely held her tongue after that.

    ¡°Mitchell, I do not think that is wise. We can find others who will assist us for far less.¡±

    Mitchell stared at Allora for several heartbeats. The silence grew tense. As Lethelin watched she couldn¡¯t help but notice something was different about him. He seemed harder in some way.

    Finally, he said, ¡°I¡¯m the king, right?¡±

    For the first time since the conversation started, Allora looked somewhat uncertain.

    ¡°You will be, yes. Once you are fully bonded with Awen.¡±

    ¡°Can I afford her price?¡±

    Allora looked back toward Lethelin and then back to Mitchell. ¡°You can. Milandris was not able to plunder the palace and its wealth should still be there once it is reclaimed.¡±

    ¡°Then we pay it,¡± Mitchell said, a note of finality in his voice.

    ¡°Thank you, my king!¡± Lethelin said, all smiles.

    Mitchell then turned his cold blue eyes to her and the expression on his face drained the smile from her lips like water through a net. He stepped closer to her and glowered down at where she sat on the edge of the wagon. It took all she had not to reach for her blade.

    ¡°The language spell, please,¡± Mitchell said to Allora while never taking his eyes off of Lethelin. Allora, in almost as much shock at his sudden change in demeanor as Lethelin, cast the spell without comment.

    ¡°Lethelin, I want to be perfectly clear with you. If you betray us, you had better hope we¡¯re captured and killed. Because if we aren¡¯t, then I will command Allora to hunt you down until either you are dead or she is.¡±

    Lethelin felt a cold sweat begin to form on her back and she wanted to shy away from him. Something had definitely changed.

    ¡°You seem to have no small amount of fear and respect for her. Do you have any doubt that she could kill you?¡±

    Lethelin was unable to look away.

    ¡°None,¡± her voice was so meek it sounded almost like a whisper.

    ¡°I will have your word that you will honor our agreement and help us reclaim the throne or die trying.¡±

    ¡°Under Stollar¡¯s holy light, I, Lethelin Ne Forlia, swear it in the name of my mother, Maribeth De Forlia. I will see you to the Onyx Throne or die in the attempt.¡±

    There was only the barest hint of daylight left, but it was enough for the oath to hold.

    Mitchell searched her eyes for several heartbeats until he found whatever he was looking for then gave her a curt nod. He turned back to Allora who stood mute with shock.

    ¡°Satisfied?¡±

    Allora only nodded, her eyes wide. Mitchell stalked off and called for Revos.

    ¡°Where are you, Revos? You son of a motherless goat! Break time is over.¡±

    Lethelin and Allora watched him walk back over to what had been serving as their training ground, both of them mute with astonishment. Where had that come from?

    Lethelin spoke first.

    ¡°I¡­ What?¡±

    She wasn¡¯t quite sure she had come out ahead in that deal all of a sudden.

    Allora turned to look at her then. ¡°What is a go-oot?¡±

    Lethelin shrugged. Mitchell began to move through the sword exercises as Revos returned from wherever he¡¯d been lounging and they picked up the practice again. For the first time since this whole mad endeavor had begun, she thought they might actually have a chance.

 Chapter 17

    Mitchell wasn¡¯t sure what to make of his first actual town in this new world. On the one hand, the people here were, for the most part, human-shaped, even if they were in a larger variety of body sizes than one might find on Earth. But on the other hand, he expected something more¡­ alien or unusual. People everywhere needed four walls and a roof and once that was decided he supposed there weren¡¯t all that many variations for the average person.

    As the town came into sharper focus, that morning¡¯s language lesson was put on hold as all stood up to get a better view. After weeks spent overland in the desert, they were all eager to be in civilization again. The village¨Cor maybe it was a city here, he didn¡¯t know¨Cwas vaguely circular in shape and the town proper was surrounded by high walls that, as far as Mitchell could tell from his vantage, completely encircled it. His view of the far side of the city was blocked by a hazy cloud of dust from the bustle of activity inside the walls but he could still see the irregular-shaped spire that shot up like a needle from the center of Besari.

    Revos saw him squinting at the towering structure and explained.

    ¡°That is the Great Basari Wellspring,¡± he said. ¡°Water shoots up to the surface night and day, laden with minerals. Over time they collected and formed the spire. It provides water for the entire city as well as some of the outlying villages. Look there.¡±

    The cambion extended a thickly muscled arm and pointed a black-clawed finger to the right, what would be the north of the city. Mitchell could just make out what looked like an aqueduct that snaked away into the distance.

    ¡°And there.¡±

    Pointing to the left he saw two more heading in a southern direction and, to his surprise, one that was running almost parallel to the Diran Road. The aqueducts were made of the same tan sandstone that was found all over the desert and they had blended in almost perfectly with the landscape so Mitchell had not noticed them before.

    Mitchell had never been to Italy, although he had always wanted to go. One of the things that had always fascinated him was the aqueducts that the Romans had constructed, some of which were still standing and in use. The people here had developed the same technique and even used arches to support them. Mitchell didn¡¯t know enough about engineering to know if these sorts of ideas were just that common or if there was some sort of cultural mixing that had gone on in the past. Maybe the Romans had developed the idea and it had been brought here? Or was it developed here and brought to Earth? Or had both societies come upon the idea independently?

    ¡°What is it?¡± Allora asked him, seeing him staring hard at the water system.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing. Just that an ancient civilization built the same sort of system to transport water on my world. Exactly the same. It¡¯s a little weird seeing it here. But it makes me miss home.¡±

    A pained look passed over Allora¡¯s features, there and gone so fast that if Mitchell hadn¡¯t been studying her face for the last several weeks he might not have noticed it. He did notice, however, and felt a little guilty. He was no longer angry about what had happened and, as he¡¯d learned more of the situation, he could understand the desperation that had forced her into it. He hadn¡¯t meant to cause her grief over it yet again but before he could try to alleviate her guilt, she¡¯d turned away and scanned the horizon. She was ever watchful for danger, even this close to the city. Maybe more so now because of their proximity to Basari. A town meant people and potential threats.

    They rode on in silence for a bit, each of them taking in the signs of civilization after weeks in the wilderness. He appreciated the break. Mitchell couldn¡¯t deny that the intensity with which they pushed him had been paying off. Revos or Allora still used the language spell on him from time to time, but mostly it was when they needed to explain something technical about the magic he was learning. It helped that the language followed the same subject-verb-object structure as his native English, so he didn¡¯t have to learn all new syntax. Once he had the format down, it was more a matter of vocabulary than anything else.

    The language, which they called Common, seemed fairly forthright and direct, which reminded him a little of English in that way. Some of the vowels and consonants were a little tricky to get out with his untrained tongue and there seemed to be a few more throat sounds than he thought were necessary but Allora explained that the common tongue had descended from ancient Draconic. The dragons, she explained, were the original rulers of Tewadunn. The entire world had been divided up amongst the powerful creatures at some point in the far past. Tewadunn itself meant land of the wyrms.

    ¡°Wait wait,¡± Mitchell had interjected, stunned. ¡°There are dragons here? Like actual dragons? Huge flying lizards with wings that breathe fire?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Allora responded, matter-of-factly, before amending her statement. ¡°Not many. Females rarely choose to reproduce and over time their numbers have dwindled, but there are maybe two or three dozen on the continent. Two make their homes in the Skybreaker Peaks. Oh, and not all breathe fire. In the peaks, one is an ice dragon and the other is a lightning dragon.¡±

    The implications of that had struck him mute for nearly a quarter-hour.

    A good portion of their language practice was Lethelin or Allora introducing some new words and then him trying to make sentences. The women would talk to each other and he would try to translate what was said and repeat it back. This was the most useful because he got to hear the language used in real-time and it allowed him to pick up things that weren¡¯t introduced during the lesson. It was sometimes a little tense when Lethelin seemed to be picking a fight with the overly-serious paladin. Mitchell wasn¡¯t nearly adept enough with the language to pick up on the nuance but he could sense that there was something in the way Lethelin would express herself that seemed to needle Allora. When he caught Revos smirking at their exchanges, he knew he wasn¡¯t imagining it. Sometimes, the two seemed to get along and other times it looked like Allora wanted to strangle her. Still, he picked up some helpful words that way.

    With his magical training, things were progressing much more slowly. The revelation that he had a mana reservoir that was at or near its full size didn¡¯t mean a whole lot to him because he didn¡¯t have any experience with what that meant in practice besides casting more powerful spells more often. What excited him was that he had access to six of the eight mana types which gave him a wide variety of spells he could choose from when casting. That was assuming he could learn them which Revos said was the real limiting factor for arcanists and mages. It took time to master new spell runes. The more you knew, the more versatile you were as a caster but it also meant more time to become adept at them. That and access to gemstones of sufficient quality.

    Allora had told him that before the cekip had exploded the six gemstones that had lit up were the ones for conjuration, abjuration, evocation, enchantment, illusion, and divination. Mitchell didn¡¯t know exactly what that meant yet but Allora and Revos both said those were very good. Unfortunately, getting started wasn¡¯t as easy as he had hoped. It wasn¡¯t like with the sword where you could just pick it up and start swinging.

    For any spell to work, the mana type had to be channeled into a rune, which you had to learn, that shaped the mana into the desired effect and then directed through either a glove like the one Revos wore, called a sevith, or a headband¨Cwhat Allora preferred¨Cwhich was called a krisa. One was not better than the other, it was more a matter of personal choice. Because Allora also used her blades in combat, she preferred to have her magic directed out of the headband. Revos, being a much more powerful and versatile caster than Allora, didn¡¯t use a blade very often and so found the glove more suitable. Those weren¡¯t the only choices but they were the most common by far as, in order to minimize mana loss through the stones, it was necessary for the gemstones to touch the skin. Allora told him she would explain more about the gemstones and their uses in spell casting once they had him fitted with his own gear.

    Without his own sevith or krisa, Mitchell was mostly learning magical theory. Thanks to Revos¡¯s sadistic training methods he could seize his mana almost without thought, at least when he was doing mundane tasks like walking or eating. There had been moments where he found he had it in his mental grasp ready to be used for a spell and he hadn¡¯t even realized he¡¯d done it. A few nights prior when they had insisted he do it during sparring practice had been a whole new level of difficulty. It had taken three evenings of sword practice and pain before he¡¯d finally managed to get through the basic parry and thrust exercises in sequence without losing his hold on his power. And while he had wanted to celebrate, he found he was too exhausted. He thought his exhaustion and frustration were what was responsible for the way he spoke to Allora and Lethelin last night.

    He had heard them squabbling over Lethelin¡¯s price and the whole thing had sounded so stupid to him. They needed as much help as they could get and Lethelin was fun to be around not to mention being easy on the eyes. Revos was too alien to befriend and, on top of that, Mitchell never got the feeling they could trust him. Knowing how easily he had sold out he and Allora didn¡¯t help.

    But Lethelin felt like she could be a friend. She was funny and brought a much-needed brightness to their days of travel over this bleak landscape. Despite being a part-time assassin, she was fairly optimistic and carefree about most things. As the days passed he found he had come to rely on her sense of humor. Even her punishments for his frequent language screw-ups were playful. She never missed the opportunity to thump him on the forehead and never once cut him a break, but there was no malice in it.

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    With Allora, he¡¯d given up trying to deny how he felt. That didn¡¯t help him when he tried to approach her, however. There was this wall around the elf and he couldn¡¯t find a crack to squeeze through. Until now he had mostly been restrained by the language barrier but that excuse was becoming more flimsy by the day. Yet, when he tried to spark up a natural conversation with her he found the words died on his lips. She would look at him with her purple eyes¨Cbeautiful, expectant, and intense¨Cand whatever thing he was going to say would evaporate like mist in the sun.

    So between the cambion that might sell them out and the holy paladin on a mission, Lethelin became the one person with whom he felt he could relax. He wasn¡¯t going to see her run off because of Allora¡¯s pride or sense of propriety. Lethelin was smart, quick on her feet, and had shown herself to be surprisingly resourceful. The red-headed thief had tracked a mercenary band for a year, taken them out one at a time, then traveled alone across the Stormbreaker Peaks, across the desert of Iletish, freed them, and finally eliminated her target. That was impressive by any standard. Mitchell suspected that in her own way, she was just as talented and deadly as Allora or Revos. He wanted her on his side.

    He hoped his threats against her hadn¡¯t crossed the line, but it had felt right at the time. Mitchell liked her quite a bit, in ways that were starting to make him feel a little guilty about his feelings for Allora, but this was life and death and he couldn¡¯t afford to take chances with her. Lethelin¡¯s oath had sounded real enough and it had satisfied Allora, so he considered the matter closed. He did wonder just how much money five thousand Awenorian crowns was as he had almost no sense of the monetary system on this world, but he could afford it, apparently, so let her have it.

    More than anything else, he had just been tired of everyone deciding things without him. Mitchell had come to accept his role in this mission quest thing. He had accepted that he would be the king¨Cassuming he survived¨Cand that his life was here now. With him being able to communicate more efficiently, it was time that he began to take a more active role in things. Naturally, he would still need to rely on Allora¡¯s council, but he vowed that he would learn as much as he could so that he didn¡¯t feel so damned helpless all the time. In that vein, his language toward both of them might have been a little harsher than it needed to be, but he had decided that it was time to pull rank. Lethelin would stay and he would meet her price.

    This morning had been a little tense, with both her and Allora stepping lighter around him but that seemed to end once they got on their way. Lethelin took the first shift with his language practice and, after a few uncertain glances, she was right back into the swing of things. She was teaching him swear words today, which Allora disapproved of, but Lethelin said swearing was an important part of any language. She herself could call someone a jivi fucker in Common, Elvish, Dwarvish, and Demonic. She¡¯d tried to get it down in the original Draconic but she couldn¡¯t get the throat sounds right. Revos grimaced when Lethelin demonstrated her ¡°skills¡± in Demonic and told her, without fangs, she would never pull it off, but Lethelin just blew him a kiss and ignored his criticism.

    Far from being blasphemous, the people of this world seemed to take great pride in how much of the sun god¡¯s anatomy they could work into a swear. Lethelin seemed especially fond of Stollar¡¯s swinging cock and hairy taint. And Mitchell agreed that they did have a nice cadence to them. When he asked about swears with Denass, Stolar¡¯s wife and the goddess of death and night, Lethelin had wobbled her head vigorously.

    ¡°That would be a bad idea,¡± Allora said.

    ¡°Why?¡± Mitchell asked, looking between the two women.

    ¡°Denass is not as open-minded as Stollar,¡± Lethelin said, somewhat cryptically.

    ¡°She is a lady,¡± Allora chimed in. ¡°One does not speak of a lady in such a way.¡±

    Mitchell thought that if a goddess was a lady then surely the god was a gentleman and shouldn¡¯t be spoken of in that fashion either, but he didn¡¯t comment on the weird double standard.

    ¡°What about Isthasy and Vish?¡± Mitchell inquired. ¡°Can we say Isthasy¡¯s swinging cock?¡±

    Lethelin blinked at him in incomprehension and Allora looked at him like he had lobsters crawling out of his ears.

    ¡°Why would we do that?¡± Allora asked.

    ¡°I mean¡­¡± Mitchell faltered as he was confronted with the baffled expressions of his tutors. ¡°Isn¡¯t it the same?¡±

    Lethelin and Allora had shared a look and Mitchell had the feeling that there was some sort of silent communication passing between him that was comparing his level of intelligence to roughly that of the clorvol pulling the wagon.

    ¡°That would not make any sense,¡± Allora finally said, and in a way that indicated he should know better.

    Mitchell had wanted to press for details but decided to let it drop. If discussions about religion back home had taught him anything, it was that sometimes a faith didn¡¯t make sense and the people preferred it that way.

    It took another half an hour at the clorvol¡¯s slow and plodding pace to reach the outskirts of the city. There was a thriving market economy that had grown up alongside the Diran Road and it came with all the sights, sounds, and smells one would expect. Humanoids of all shapes and sizes were mixed together, working among the stalls, tents, and wagons, and commerce was brisk.

    Mitchell heard scraps of Common but also several other languages as buying and selling were done. He also noticed that people seemed to get out of the way of their wagon and always seemed to keep a wary eye on the massive beast pulling them.

    ¡°Did you never wonder why we were not attacked by anything in the desert?¡± Allora asked when he questioned her about it.

    ¡°A little bit but it wasn¡¯t high on my list of priorities at the time.¡±

    ¡°Clorvols are extremely dangerous. Especially the females. Not many beasts will knowingly engage with one. They are mostly ambush predators but will track and kill prey if they get hungry enough. Also, their bite is venomous. They can kill most creatures outright but even if they don¡¯t, the venom doesn¡¯t take long. Their hide is almost as tough as dragon scales and they have a natural immunity to the giant scorpion venom. Their smell alone is enough to keep most of the other predators away.¡±

    ¡°Ivaran picked a clorvol instead of a jivi because of that?¡±

    Allora nodded.

    ¡°It was a calculated risk on his part. The jivi in Iletish are well adapted to travel over the desert terrain and move at a much faster speed, but they are also food to many creatures that stalk the sands, including clorvols. He took the slower but safer option. Traveling with jivis would have cut weeks off his travel time but we would have been in constant danger of attack.¡±

    That explained a lot, Mitchell thought. He¡¯d seen how quickly the jivi teams could move and thought he noticed subtle changes in some of the wagons that they pulled to make moving at the higher speeds more comfortable for the riders.

    Mixing among all the enterprising traders and merchant caravans were groups of four soldiers who were wearing what looked like leather armor that fit over a flowing white fabric. It wasn¡¯t all that dissimilar to the simple clothing he and Allora were wearing but it had a sturdier look. Two carried swords and two carried wooden staffs but were wearing krisas that were clearly visible. To Mitchell, it looked like people weren¡¯t even aware that they were moving around the soldiers and that allowed the squad to patrol in a constant bubble as the crowd found a way to make space for them.

    ¡°The Scorpion Guard,¡± Lethelin told him. ¡°These aren¡¯t the royal guard, just the city watch, but you still don¡¯t want to tangle with them.¡±

    Mitchell watched them, suddenly nervous for some reason, but Revos and Allora paid them no mind so he tried to act casual.

    ¡°The one with the black bands around his krisa,¡± Lethalin said, drawing Mitchell¡¯s eye to the subtle difference between the two magic users, ¡°is an executioner.¡±

    ¡°Is that bad?¡±

    ¡°Not as long as you don¡¯t piss him off,¡± Lethelin said with a smirk. ¡°But an executioner has the authority to execute you on sight if they catch you in the act.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine, boy,¡± Revos spoke up from the driver¡¯s seat. Then, in what was probably more for Lethelin than Mitchell, he said, ¡°Just don¡¯t go picking any pockets or cutting any throats and we¡¯ll be back on the road in the morning. The Guard is strict but fair.¡±

    Mitchell saw Lethelin make a face at the back of Revos¡¯s head and silently mouth the words in a mocking manner back to him and they both shared a grin.

    ¡°I saw that,¡± Revos said, never looking away from the front where he was guiding the clorvol through the crowd and towards the large city gates.

    Lethelin¡¯s grin dropped and she looked up at Mitchell, slightly chastened but still with a mischievous twinkle in her emerald-green eyes.

    Before they could actually make it through the gate, the wagon was halted by a harried-looking human functionary who told them that clorvols were not allowed inside the city gates but that they could store the beast at specially designed stables and gave them directions to where such establishments were kept a short distance down the city wall and separated from the merchants.

    Before the wagon continued on, Allora turned to Lethelin.

    ¡°There is a bathhouse in the city called The Maiden¡¯s Mist. Can I trust you to take him there? I need to sell some of our provisions and resupply for our trip to the mountains.¡±

    ¡°I know it. I stopped there when I was tracking Ivaran. I can get him there.¡±

    Allora paused long enough that Mitchell thought she was going to change her mind about trusting Lethelin with this simple task but apparently decided against it.

    Turning to Mitchell she said, ¡±Go with her, get cleaned up, eat, and take some rest. I will meet you there in an hour, maybe two. You should be safe.¡±

    Mitchell felt nervous at the thought of being away from her. For better or worse, she had been beside him every moment of every day in this strange world and even this small separation gave him a moment¡¯s pause. But realizing he was being childish, he nodded.

    ¡°See you there.¡±

    Allora handed Lethelin a small pouch of coins that she said should be plenty to take care of them and repeated she was to take him straight there.

    ¡°I got it, I got it!¡± Lethelin said, pulling her hand out of Allora¡¯s when she didn¡¯t let go fast enough.

    They hopped out of the back of the wagon. Revos flicked the reins and they veered left down a side lane that would take them to the clorvol stables. Mitchell watched them go and saw that Allora was watching him as well. Soon, they turned off and he lost sight of her and the wagon as they went around a building.

    With the clorvol out of the thoroughfare, the crowds of humans and other things began to push back in and commerce resumed. Lethelin grabbed his hand and started walking towards the towering gates that suddenly appeared to Mitchell as a giant mouth that was about to eat them.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go get cleaned up,¡± Lethelin said with no small amount of excitement in her voice. ¡°I¡¯m tired of smelling like the ass-end of a dead clorvol.¡±

    Mitchell chuckled and followed along through the gates of Basari.

 Chapter 18

    Just inside the gate was an open square that had three roads leading off from the entrance. The left and right diverged off at roughly forty-five-degree angles into the city and the other went straight ahead. The streets were cobbled and worn smooth by the passage of thousands of feet and wagon wheels. As Mitchell gazed down the avenue, he saw that further into the city, there were taller buildings with greater architectural variation.

    Mitchell knew he was gawking but he couldn¡¯t help it. As Lethelin pulled him along, her desert-tan cloak billowing behind her, Mitchell was trying to look everywhere at once. There was simply so much to see.

    The buildings themselves were not all that interesting, at least not just inside the gates. Walls, windows, doors, etc., made of the same sand-colored stone found everywhere and all of it geared more toward functionality than decoration. Most of the buildings were plain squares or rectangles with only a few being more than four stories tall. All the windows were open and Mitchell saw shutters attached to each, but it was the people that drew his attention.

    All around Mitchell, there was some new shape of humanoid to be found. The bulk of Basari¡¯s population was human but there were also elves and dwarves, and a small race of people Lethelin called halflings. They looked like miniature humans but had slightly more elfin features with their pointed ears and eyes that were angled just a little too sharply. In addition, he saw two cambions like Revos, only their skin tone was different. The male was a more reddish-purple color with midnight-black horns that curved up over his head in a more traditional devilish style. He had two swords made of some sort of black metal in a harness across his back. The other one, a female, was an almost midnight blue with glistening ebony gold-tipped horns that curled around behind her ears. Crowds gave them both a bit of space as they walked through. He even saw a race of reptilian people that made no sense to him from an evolutionary perspective but he¡¯d given up on trying to square that circle a long time ago.

    Despite numerous races and cultures present, everyone seemed to be getting along reasonably well. Commerce was ubiquitous and it was happening at a brisk pace.

    After days spent in relative isolation, he found the din and press of the crowd somewhat disorienting, but it didn¡¯t take him long to adjust. He was a city boy, after all. The noise seemed a little more subdued than outside the walls, which had an almost Arabian bazaar quality about it, with people calling out, advertising their wares, and trying to grab the attention of passersby. Their tactics were noticeably more aggressive outside the gates than in but trade was still happening.

    The shops that lined the cobbled streets just inside the gate seemed to be designed specifically to attract travelers. While Mitchell couldn¡¯t read the language yet, he thought he could still identify the types of businesses. The inns and taverns were easy enough to spot given the sounds of revelry from inside even at this early hour.

    There was also the strong scent of strange foods wafting from cafes and restaurants. Mitchell¡¯s stomach rumbled at the idea of eating something besides their trail rations and the occasional bit of daka meat or some other small desert animal they would serve up, but Lethelin didn¡¯t stop or waver. Her grip tight on his hand, she set a brisk pace and picked the center road straight into the heart of the city towards the spire.

    ¡°Stay close,¡± was all she said as she deftly maneuvered through the throngs of people that crowded the square.

    Mitchell noticed - and not for the first time - the fluidity of her movements. She had a definite grace about her - a lightness on her feet. She walked with a confidence and a purpose that made her seem taller than her modest height. If Mitchell had to guess she was only about five-foot and six inches. The cowl of her sand-colored cloak was down and Lethelin¡¯s coppery-red hair was pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail. As he glanced at her, he saw that her eyes were ever watchful.

    ¡°Are you expecting problems?¡± Mitchell asked her, picking up on the slight tension.

    ¡°I always expect problems,¡± she told him with a sidelong glance before resuming her scanning. ¡°If something is going to happen it¡¯s usually in the press of people just inside the gates where there is a lot of activity. It¡¯s the easiest place to steal a purse or slip a knife between someone¡¯s ribs. Once we get a little farther into the city, it will calm down.¡±

    ¡°You sound like you speak from experience.¡±

    Her mouth turned up in a smile but she didn¡¯t look at him. ¡°I¡¯ve been known to use the confusion of crowds to my advantage more than once.¡±

    Something caught her attention then and she pulled up short. Glancing around quickly she saw a small shop just to their left that was selling textiles.

    ¡°Here, I¡¯ll show you.¡±

    She pulled him over to the racks of brightly decorated cloth and started to examine them. The shopkeeper, a human woman who was sitting in the shade of an umbrella out of the harsh sunlight watched but didn¡¯t comment.

    In a somewhat lower voice, Lethelin said, ¡°Look casually to your left. You¡¯ll see a boy about twelve high suns or so wearing a white cap, a red vest, and brown pants standing in the alleyway.¡±

    Mitchell, curious, looked to where she indicated and saw him right away leaning on a wall just inside and watching the crowd.

    ¡°I see him.¡±

    ¡°Now¡­¡± Lethelin said, scanning around. ¡°There.¡±

    She tugged at Mitchell¡¯s sleeve and he turned to look up the street. He saw a procession of five well-dressed men and women walking toward the gate. They were wearing flowing white robes with ornately decorated hemlines. The men¡¯s heads were shaved, tan, and glistening in the sun and the women had their hair pulled back into a single severely braided ponytail. They walked with an imperious air.

    ¡°That would be my target,¡± she said conspiratorially, ¡°if this were my job. Merchant lords with heavy purses. Watch.¡±

    She made a show of picking up a roll of bright red fabric with gold leaves embroidered into it. ¡°What do you think about this for a sleeping gown, dear?¡±

    ¡°Oh, um. Yeah, it¡¯s nice,¡± Mitchell said, trying to look like a shopper while also watching the group of rich people walking toward them.

    In just a moment they walked past the stall where he and Lethelin were browsing and approached the alley where the young boy was standing. Mitchell saw him take his hat off and, just a few moments later from deeper in the alley, two more small children near in age to the first came out carrying a cask between them secured with some ropes. They made a show of struggling with the weight and not looking where they were going before ¡°accidentally¡± walking right into the middle of the group of merchants where they immediately got tangled up as the clay vessel dropped among them. It hit the ground with a crash and broke open spraying everyone with a dark and foul-smelling liquid that made Mitchell¡¯s eyes water.

    Amid the screams of outrage from the merchants, one of which had fallen and now lay in a spreading puddle of the nasty stuff, the boy in the alleyway began to move. In the bustle and confusion of people either gawking or moving in to help, he stepped between them like a ghost. Mitchell saw his little hands dart in and out, plucking things from pockets. He only saw it though because Lethelin had told him to keep an eye on the prepubescent thief. If he hadn¡¯t known to watch for him he would have been just like all the other gawkers looking on partly in fascination and partly in disgust.

    As the man who¡¯d fallen picked himself up the little pickpocket stepped out of the melee and slipped off into the crowd.

    The two boys who had been carrying the cask and who were also covered in whatever they¡¯d been carrying looked suitably horrified and evaded the hands of the now-reeking merchants as they darted back into the alley. Moments later the cry went up that coin purses were missing and people began calling for the guard.

    Mitchell looked at Lethelin who was grinning openly.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we say something?¡±

    ¡°Why? Those kids will be long gone by now. They¡¯ll have half a dozen bolt holes to lay low in, if not more. And the merchants can afford it.¡±

    She sounded like she admired them and he commented on it.

    ¡°They did a good job. The kid was a little slower than he should have been but he shows promise. The clay pot of fermented jivi piss was good planning on his part.¡±

    ¡°Is that what that was? It smells disgusting.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s used in the tanning of some animal hides,¡± Lethelin answered as she dropped the cloth back onto the table. ¡°But it did its job. If he doesn¡¯t get greedy and wind up in a prison or standing in front of an executioner, he should do alright.¡±

    ¡°Greed is usually what gets most thieves in the end,¡± she continued. ¡°They don¡¯t know when to quit or they take a job that they¡¯re not prepared for.

    ¡°The myth of the last big job?¡± he asked her.

    ¡°Yeah, something like that.¡±

    ¡°You gotta know when to fold ¡®em,¡± he said more to himself than to Lethelin.

    ¡°What does that mean?¡± Lethelin asked, slipping them beside a wagon that was selling some sort of fruit.

    ¡°It¡¯s a famous song where I¡¯m from. It¡¯s about knowing when to quit while you¡¯re ahead.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s important,¡± she nodded her agreement.

    ¡°You know, one day I¡¯d like to hear about how the daughter of a city guardsman became an accomplished thief and assassin.¡±

    ¡°Part-time assassin,¡± she corrected him with a grin. ¡°Come on. The bathhouse is near the wellspring toward the center of the city.¡±

    They walked on for another ten minutes or so in silence and the crowds thinned out as they pressed on. Lethelin¡¯s hand on his became less insistent as she relaxed and Mitchell noticed that it had started to feel almost casual. If Lethelin noticed the difference she didn¡¯t say anything. He didn¡¯t pull away and neither did she. When he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, she squeezed back.

    Something had changed between them since he¡¯d made the deal with her. He couldn¡¯t put his finger on it but, oddly enough, she seemed more relaxed around him than before, which he couldn¡¯t figure out. He had essentially threatened her with death but rather than pissing her off, she seemed to warm to him.

    Around them, the street had widened and the buildings began to look a little more architecturally interesting rather than the basic blocks like the ones that dominated the neighborhoods near the walls and gates. They walked through several intersections that had large fountains at the center which seemed to be both decorative and functional. There were brass ladles on hooks for drinking. Both he and Lethelin stopped at one and she invited him to drink.

    He brought the public serving cup to his lips and sipped at the water but immediately jerked his head back, his eyes going wide.

    ¡°What is this?¡±

    Lethelin finished her ladle in a long pull.

    ¡°It¡¯s water from the wellspring. It¡¯s good, right?¡±

    ¡°It tingles,¡± he said and couldn¡¯t suppress a grin at the feeling. It reminded him of a liquid version of the Pop Rocks candy he used to eat when he was a kid.

    ¡°It¡¯s the minerals that come up from deep underground. It¡¯s supposed to have amazing restorative powers. Wait until you have a bath in it!¡± she said enthusiastically. ¡°It feels amazing!¡±

    As they continued on toward the center of the city, the spire that was the wellspring began to grow larger. It towered above everything and must have been seventy meters high. It glistened in the afternoon light as water burst out from several holes that were visible all up and down the natural formation.

    As they walked on and the haze cleared he could see that the structure was a rainbow hue of mineral deposits all swirled together. He was essentially looking at a massive stalagmite that had grown up out of the desert.

    The buildings in this part of the city began to take on a more palatial feeling. People had parasols and their clothing was noticeably nicer. He saw a mix of construction materials and more flourishes in the designs. Lethelin pointed out the occasional building of note. Alien world or no, people were people it seemed. There were banks, fancy clothing stores, several gemstone dealers, and progressively higher-end restaurants and inns.

    She also began to point out people of interest. In this quarter of the city, there were more merchant lords about, and more Scorpion guards, but they didn¡¯t seem to bother anyone unless someone started trouble. Lethelin explained that the merchant lords were really nothing more than well-to-do tradesmen and women who liked to pretend at being noble. But the only ones who could be called lords were people of the royal line, so it was all for show. Most people ignored their attempts at nobility but it didn¡¯t stop them from trying. The actual governor of the city was a cousin of the current queen and the Scorpion Guard answered to him, not to the merchant lords.

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    ¡°Stollar¡¯s perky nipples!¡± Lethelin exclaimed suddenly.

    ¡°What?¡± Mitchell said, looking around as if they were about to be attacked.

    ¡°Gawan cakes!¡±

    Lethelin gave his arm a firm yank as she dragged him over to the opposite side of the street to a food cart that was selling various sorts of baked goods. The proprietor was what really caught Mitchell¡¯s eye though. It was an orc. A huge one. He had almost half a foot on Mitchell and looked like he could squat a cow. The massive creature was wearing a tan-colored apron stretched over a hugely muscled chest with arms bigger than Mitchell¡¯s thighs. His face was flattened with a nose that looked like it had been broken more than once and one tusk about three inches long curled up from his lower lip. There was no second tusk. His hair was black and cut short in what reminded Mitchell of a high-and-tight, a style worn by the Marines from back home. Mitchell tried not to stare and his appearance didn¡¯t seem to bother Lethelin in the slightest. His only experience with orcs thus far had been people who wanted to kill him so he couldn¡¯t help but be a little nervous.

    As the customer in front of them made their purchase Lethelin almost jumped to the front.

    ¡°Do you have any gawan cakes left?¡± she blurted out before the baker could even greet her.

    The tall orc looked down at the little human in front of him, not unlike how Mitchell might look at a child, and a friendly smile curled his ugly face. Mitchell wasn¡¯t sure how such a face could be friendly but that was the impression he got.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s blessings to you, young miss,¡± he said, his basso voice somewhere between a lion¡¯s warning growl and boulders crashing down a mountainside. ¡°It just so happens that I do. You are lucky to catch me so early as they sell¨C¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll take whatever you have left!¡± Lethelin said, cutting him off once again.

    The big orc, not put off in the least, chuckled and Mitchell thought he could feel it in his chest.

    ¡°As the little miss desires, so shall it be.¡±

    The big man lifted a delicate cloth up off a tray and Mitchell saw three tarts, each about the size of his palm. The pastry was golden brown and flaky and there were thin slices of a pale fruit arranged around the center in such a way as to resemble the petals of a flower. A golden-colored sauce of some kind had been drizzled over in a crisscrossing pattern. They did look delicious.

    ¡°My last three,¡± he said. ¡°I started the morning with thirty. As I said, they sell quickly.¡±

    ¡°All of them, please,¡± Lethelin reiterated and released his hand to fish out her coin purse.

    ¡°That will be three silver scales.¡±

    Lethelin froze in the process of opening her purse and gave the baker a hard stare.

    ¡°Three silver scales? Stollar¡¯s hairy taint, have you got sun sickness? Has that orcish ale pickled your brain? Should I call for a healer? I¡¯m not paying a silver scale each for these unless you¡¯re throwing in an Iletishian flower maiden to rub my feet while I eat them!¡±

    The big orc gave her an apologetic smile. He didn¡¯t seem upset or surprised at all by her invective.

    ¡°I am sorry, young miss, but gawans have not been easy to acquire since trade with Awenor has been disrupted. This is the first batch I have been able to make in almost six weeks.¡±

    Mitchell spoke up then.

    ¡°Is that a lot?¡±

    Lethelin gave him a sidelong glance, seemingly reluctant to break her stare with the shopkeeper.

    ¡°These should go for three copper talons each, at best. He¡¯s asking more than triple the price!¡±

    The orc glanced at Mitchell and actually managed to look somewhat sheepish.

    ¡°The young miss is correct. The price is high, but gawans make it across the peaks so infrequently these days and we can¡¯t grow them in Iletish.¡±

    Lethelin narrowed her emerald eyes.

    ¡°Two silver scales,¡± she countered.

    The orc turned his attention back to the flame-haired assassin and a glint seemed to appear in his gray eyes.

    ¡°Young miss, do understand,¡± the orc pleaded as he spread his arms. ¡°these could be the last gawan cakes I¡¯m able to make for weeks. And my wives would snap off my tusk if I sold them for so little. But I can see how much you want them and I live only to serve. I could soothe the wrath of my wives if you could agree to pay two scales and seven talons.¡±

    ¡°You could rent a day in the spas for all your wives for that much! Two scales, three talons!¡±

    ¡°The spas would help to calm them after I tell them I allowed myself to be swindled for my last few gawan cakes, but would not save my tusk. As you can see, I have only the one remaining.¡±

    The orc gestured sadly to the left side of his mouth where the large tooth was missing.

    ¡°An orc without tusks is no orc at all,¡± he continued. ¡°Two scales, five talons. That is the lowest I can go.¡±

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s sweaty ball sack,¡± Lethelin muttered as she fished out the coins. ¡°You had better be naming a daughter after me for paying this price.¡±

    The orc accepted her coin with a gracious smile and then, displaying a nimbleness that didn¡¯t seem possible with such large hands, placed each gawan cake into a small box that he presented to Lethelin.

    ¡°Please visit again,¡± he gave a slight nod of the head. ¡°Stollar¡¯s blessings upon you this fine day.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Lethelin said, giving the massive baker one final indignant glare before they continued up the street.

    Once they were out of sight of the pastry cart Lethelin tore open the box and shoved her nose in, inhaling deeply.

    ¡°Do you know how long it¡¯s been since I¡¯ve had one of these?¡±

    Mitchell only shrugged.

    ¡°Are they that good?¡±

    ¡°Here, one for you, two for me.¡±

    He chuckled. ¡°Seems fair.¡±

    They found a bench at the next intersection and sat down after she handed him his pastry from the box before taking one for herself. Not pausing, she opened her mouth wide and consumed half of the cake in a single bite, little flakes of crust breaking off and dropping onto her shirt and sticking to her mouth. She let out a groan of deep satisfaction. Mitchell just watched in amusement.

    ¡°Good?¡± he asked even though the answer was obvious.

    Lethelin¡¯s eyes slid up and her lids closed as she slumped back into the bench.

    ¡°Mmhmm,¡± was all she could manage.

    Mitchell sniffed his own and something about it was very familiar. And there was the unmistakable scent of cinnamon coming from the golden sauce that had been drizzled over the top. He took a bite, perhaps not as big as Lethelin¡¯s had been, and once he began to chew he knew what it was. He¡¯d eaten this before.

    Swallowing, he said, ¡°It¡¯s an apple tart!¡±

    Lethelin looked up from where she was licking the cinnamon glaze off her fingers.

    ¡°Appleeteet?¡± Lethelin said after swallowing the remaining portion of her first gawan cake. ¡°What?¡±

    He pointed to the fruit on top of the pastry. ¡°This is an apple! It¡¯s a fruit from my world. How did it get here?¡±

    Lethelin picked up her second cake and shrugged.

    ¡°Don¡¯t know,¡± she said simply, before taking a more measured bite.

    After swallowing, she added, ¡°But thank your world for me. Because gawans are my favorite. I prefer a citreon glaze but people in Iletish make the glaze with quinnamon powder. Still good, though!¡±

    Mitchell knew there was no way this was a coincidence. There was some sort of travel back and forth in the past. It was the only thing that made sense.

    Mitchell was enjoying his gawan cake but clearly not as much as Lethelin had enjoyed hers. He saw her eyeing his last bite hungrily and decided to let her have it. He held it out to her but instead of taking it she leaned forward and took it from his hand with her mouth and paused long enough for her tongue to collect some of the cinnamon--or quinnamon, as Lethelin had called it--glaze that had dripped onto his fingers. Her tongue lingered and Mitchell felt a slight pressure on the tip as she sucked on him ever so gently. The contact sent a shiver down his spine. The moment was not lost on her, either as Mitchell saw a blush spread on her cheeks as she sat back on the bench avoiding eye contact.

    ¡°That was¡­¡± Lethelin said, hesitating. ¡°Um¡­ That was really good. Sorry, I haven¡¯t had a gawan cake in a long time.¡±

    He couldn¡¯t help but grin when she wouldn¡¯t meet his eyes.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, I didn¡¯t mind.¡±

    ¡°We should get to the bathhouse. If Allora gets there first and has to come find us she¡¯ll gut me like a river carp and feed me to the clorvol,¡± she said standing up and brushing the flakes of pastry off her leather vest.

    Mitchell agreed that it probably wasn¡¯t a good idea to risk it and, after taking along drink at the intersection¡¯s fountain, they pushed deeper into the city.

    ¡°Are Onyx Knights really that dangerous?¡±

    Lethelin glanced at him briefly before her eyes resumed their scan of the crowds around them.

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to believe that you don¡¯t know about them. But yes, they are. Or were, anyway.¡±

    Something passed over her face that Mitchell read as grief or sadness.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t expect you to feel so bad about them being killed,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re an admitted thief and assassin.¡±

    Lethelin gave a slight shrug.

    ¡°More than the monarch, the Knights were a symbol of Awenor,¡± she explained, her voice somber. ¡°We¡¯ve had good and bad rulers in the past but the Knights were always there in the background, keeping watch. When they were all killed it was like¡­¡±

    She paused, searching for the words.

    ¡°It was as if the Skybreaker Peaks had suddenly crumbled to dust. My¨C¡± she paused and looked at him again and reconsidered something. ¡°Our people lost hope. The Knights had protected us for hundreds of years and it seemed impossible that they wouldn¡¯t be there forever.

    ¡°But now they¡¯re not.¡±

    ¡°As far as anyone knows, Allora is the last one. Somehow she survived when all the rest were killed.¡±

    ¡°And she could defeat you in a fight?¡¯

    Mitchell had threatened Lethelin before with sending Allora after her if the thief betrayed them but that had been mostly instinct on his part. He¡¯d seen the way Lethelin tensed whenever Allora drew her sword. It had worked, given the way Lethelin had looked slightly ill at the thought of being hunted by Allora, but he¡¯d only been guessing at the time.

    Lethelin snorted. ¡°If I had five others with me, I still wouldn¡¯t want to go up against her. Not seriously. I¡¯d love to spar with her but fight her?¡± Lethelin wobbled her head. ¡°She¡¯s a warlock and a blade master. That¡¯s what that sword means. Did you see the gemstone in the pommel?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Mitchell said, very curious now.

    ¡°It¡¯s a piece of Awen herself! It¡¯s presented to the knights when they complete their training. It takes years of study to get it and it¡¯s worth a small fortune. Revos told me that both of her parents were Knights, which is how it usually happens. But that means she¡¯s been learning the blade and every other weapon since she was old enough to make a fist. And magic since her seventh name day. No¡­ I would not face off against her. I would run. I would run very fast and very far.¡±

    Mitchell went quiet for a while and thought about what he¡¯d just learned. Things with Allora began to take on a new light. Most notable was the way in which Ivaran¡¯s men had always acted around her. Even chained and without the use of her magic, they had been terrified of even getting close to her. The one who got handsy with her being the lone exception and he hadn¡¯t tried again. He remembered that first day. When they¡¯d tried to get her out of the cage, they hadn¡¯t even wanted to stick their hands inside.

    He wondered if she could have found a way to escape if it hadn¡¯t been for him. Given how nervous their captors had been anytime they were within arm¡¯s reach of her, he suspected she could have found a way but he had been a liability. Instead of feeling bad about it, he resolved that he would work harder so that it wouldn¡¯t happen again.

    They walked on and Lethelin resumed pointing out curiosities and other points of interest to him. He saw several side streets that he wanted to explore but Lethelin didn¡¯t let them wander off the main road. She was serious about getting to their destination well before Allora.

    One thing that brought him up short was a group of about twelve naked men and women walking down the center of the street. They were totally nude and hairless except for some sort of leather sandals that only covered the soles of their feet. As they walked, they chanted something Mitchell couldn¡¯t understand. The crowds mostly ignored them except for moving aside when the group walked too close.

    ¡°Who are they?¡±

    Lethelin rolled her eyes. Another universal gesture, it seemed.

    ¡°Haliks,¡± Lethelin said with a fair amount of scorn in her voice. ¡°Religious fanatics. Brains like week-old fish guts.¡±

    ¡°Like a cult?¡±

    He didn¡¯t know the word for ¡°cult¡± so there was a brief exchange back and forth as he explained what it meant and then she gave him the word in common.

    ¡°They think clothing blocks Stollar¡¯s blessings from entering their souls,¡± she explained. ¡°So they go around bare-ass believing Stollar¡¯s light will cleanse them and that they will earn rewards after they die. It¡¯s all blood pike shit if you ask me. You never see any Haliks in the north. The jivi fuckers would freeze to death.¡±

    That got a chuckle out of him.

    ¡°They¡¯re mostly harmless, though. The Guard tolerate them as long as they don¡¯t make a nuisance of themselves.¡±

    ¡°And the no-clothes thing?¡±

    Lethelin shrugged.

    ¡°Just a naked body. We¡¯re all naked under our clothes, aren¡¯t we?¡±

    Mitchell couldn¡¯t really argue with that logic. Nudity apparently wasn¡¯t such a big taboo here as back home.

    As they approached the city center the street became dominated by estates and manors. Lethelin explained that most of these homes were for the merchant lords and high-level government officials. There were also some small embassies and temples to Stollar, Denass, Ithstasy, and Vish.

    Before long Mitchell noticed the air had become noticeably cooler. There was a fine layer of mist settling around them. The spire of the wellspring had grown to dominate his vision for several minutes and they were close enough now that they were getting spray from the continual flow out of the geyser.

    The palatial buildings around them also began to display much more greenery on their terraces and balconies. Large, lush plants that Mitchell had no name for were hung all over the place to take advantage of the near continual precipitation from the wellspring. The air became heavy with the scent of growing things and the humidity spiked noticeably. As they walked closer and the moisture began to condense enough to run down his exposed skin, he felt a slight tingling sensation as the strange minerals reacted to his body. Mitchell began to get an idea of what Lethelin had told him about taking a bath in the wellspring water.

    Up ahead, he could see the road dead-end into some sort of green space or park. Lethelin picked up her pace and seemed eager to get there. They went the last few hundred meters in silence as the mist started to feel like actual rain. It had been so long since Mitchell had felt the sensation of raindrops on his body that he started grinning like an idiot. At least he wasn¡¯t alone. Lethelin was smiling along with him as the water dripped down her cheeks, and the tip of her nose, and flattened her hair to her scalp. The tingling sensation seemed to energize both of them. They were sprinting the last fifty meters or so to where the road ended and the parkland began.

    ¡°Oh wow,¡± Mitchell said in awe as he slowed to a stop. He had never seen anything like it in his life. Flowers with petals as large as his head sagged under the weight of the nutrient-dense water and thick trees with oddly-shaped leaves and trunks swollen with moisture erupted from the soggy ground. Lush green grass and flowers Mitchell had never seen before grew wild along each paved path that meandered through the almost rainforest-like environment that spread out in front of him. The air was thick with the scents of earth and forest.

    Both he and Lethelin were drenched, but her cloak seemed to shed the water easily enough. However, his loose-fitting desert attire was plastered to his skin. His whole body tingled now. It felt not unlike a very small electrical current as the droplets ran down his exposed arms, neck, and head.

    About twenty or thirty meters straight ahead, a fence had been built and, beyond that, there was an open space. Further still, the spire erupted into the sky. The bit that he could see through the foliage looked as thick around as a redwood tree and it towered above everything else. There was a steady roar of flowing and crashing water. He wanted to go to the fence and see what lay at the base of the wellspring but his eyes found Lethelin instead.

    She had walked a bit off to the side and was standing under the fronds of some large tree. As he watched, she tilted her head back and let the water that was running down the leaves pour into her mouth until it overflowed and she began to splutter and laugh. Her wet hair had turned a deep blood red and the contrast with her pale skin was striking. He walked to her as she grinned up at him and tried to catch her breath. His body thrummed with the tingle of the strange water pouring down all around him and he had the sudden feeling that everything was going to be alright.

    ¡°It¡¯s going to be okay,¡± he said, more to himself than Lethelin but her ears caught it anyway.

    As he looked into her emerald eyes, he suddenly realized how close she was to him. Just inches away, both of them trembling with the effects of the cool, clean air¨Cthe first either of them had felt in weeks¨Cthe electric current running over their skin, and their proximity to one another.

    He held her gaze and he saw her moist lips part ever so slightly and, before he could second guess himself, he leaned down and kissed her. And instead of pulling away, she leaned into it and kissed him back just as hard.

 Chapter 19

    Allora pocketed the five gold fangs, eight silver scales, and three copper talons she received from the sale of their enchanted water barrel and a few other things they no longer needed and emerged back into the harsh sunlight where Revos waited impatiently. Cambions weren¡¯t always well regarded and she hadn¡¯t wanted to make the shopkeeper nervous so she had asked him to wait outside.

    ¡°You should have let me bargain with him,¡± Revos said and flourished his sevith. ¡°I could have gotten seven fangs from him.¡±

    ¡°His shop is warded,¡± Allora replied. ¡°I would rather not have the Guard brought down on us.¡±

    Revos looked affronted.

    ¡°I was making better wards than that before my fifth name day. You think I couldn¡¯t defeat them?¡±

    ¡°No trouble,¡± Allora reminded him. ¡°This is plenty to get us over the peaks. There will be more when we sell the clorvol and the wagon once we reach the mountains.¡±

    Revos sniffed indignantly but didn¡¯t argue further. Together they walked through the gates and took the central road heading toward the spire. Revos was an imposing figure and cambions were rare and had a fearsome enough reputation that most people who would have approached changed their minds. As a result, he and Allora were allowed to move through the crush of people just inside the gates with comparative ease. A few ambitious street hawkers tried their luck anyway, but Revos scowled at them, growled, and bared his fangs and they suddenly remembered they had more pressing business elsewhere. Scoundrel though he was, he had his uses. After the second vendor tried, his scowl became real enough.

    ¡°Humiliating,¡± he said.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Growling at the rabble like I¡¯m some sort of beast. Back home merchants know better than to approach uninvited. And they would never dare make such crude offers to an arcanist. We are more respected than that.¡±

    ¡°But we are not in your home. The people here do not know your rank.¡±

    Revos shook his bare arm and directed her attention to the ornate set of tattoos that circled his biceps and forearm.

    ¡°What do you think these mean?¡±

    Allora glanced at the intricate glyphs and swirling lines of Demonic that decorated the red skin of his well-muscled arm before looking away quickly. The script could induce vertigo if one stared too long. She smirked at his irritation.

    ¡°I doubt the street merchants can read or speak Demonic. And you opted to remove the gold on the tips of your horns that mark you as a member of the nobility.¡±

    Revos only grunted but continued to glower at anyone who got too close, preferring to maintain his sour disposition. A little further on, a foul smell invaded her nostrils and both she and Revos had to suppress a gag.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s taint!¡± Revos coughed. ¡°Is that jivi piss?¡±

    Allora didn¡¯t answer. She was too busy trying to breathe through her mouth and wipe the tears from her eyes. Just ahead, the road was blocked off and a small crew was working to wash the street of the brownish-yellow liquid that had started baking in the cracks and crevices of the cobblestones from the heat of the day.

    ¡°Lethelin better not have had anything to do with this,¡± Allora managed as she followed Revos down a side street to get around the temporary roadblock.

    A few minutes later they had gone around the problem and moved upwind and she could finally draw a deep breath into her lungs. They rejoined the main road and stopped at the first fountain they came across to drink and try and wash away the lingering funk of urine.

    ¡°How is he doing?¡± Allora asked, hanging the ladle back on the hook. She didn¡¯t often have time away from Mitchell and needed to get an assessment from Revos since he was the main one responsible for training Mitchell in his magical abilities. Revos didn¡¯t need to ask who she was talking about.

    ¡°Surprisingly well,¡± the cambion said as they continued their walk to the spire. ¡°Never tell him I told you this, but he has it in him to be a powerful arcanist. I should have him casting his first cantrips by the time we reach the mountains.¡±

    Allora smiled at that. She had thought the same but it was nice to hear Revos echo her thoughts. She hated the brutal pace they had to set for him but there was no choice. She worried every day that it was too much too fast, that he would break under the strain but he had never wavered. He worked himself to exhaustion each night and got up with them again every day to do it again. Allora felt a swelling of pride in him. Pride and something else ¨C something she shied away from and tried not to think about.

    ¡°His skill with learning Common is also quite impressive,¡± Revos said. ¡°I had not expected him to be so far along so quickly. He didn¡¯t even ask for the language spell when he set off with Leth.¡±

    ¡®I noticed that as well. I suspect that has a lot to do with the heart stone. Its capabilities are not fully understood but my guess is that it is helping his brain retain the knowledge.¡±

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    Revos grunted.

    ¡°Ancient and powerful magic. Who knows what it can do? But if his memory works as well with the spell forms, he will be quite formidable. That is usually the biggest hurdle a caster has.¡±

    ¡°Unfortunately, I do not know,¡± Allora mused. ¡°My training did not extend to this area so I have to rely on things I learned through osmosis growing up around the palace.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of casting, I will take him to a gem dealer in the morning and have him fitted with a sevith,¡± Revos continued. ¡°Once we have that, I can begin to teach him to cast his magic. I¡¯ll need some of your coin.¡±

    Allora gave him a hard look.

    ¡°You mean you do not have a stash of coins in your extra-dimensional storage space?¡±

    Revos didn¡¯t answer.

    ¡°And is it not tradition for an instructor to gift his student with a krisa or sevith when they are ready to begin work on channeling and casting?¡±

    ¡°A basic one, yes,¡± he muttered after a long pause, ¡°in some schools.¡±

    ¡°But a basic one would not be suitable for the future monarch of Awenor, would it?

    A low growl emanated from deep within the cambion¡¯s chest and he let out a curse.

    ¡°To the nine hells with you woman! Fine! I will pay for his equipment.¡±

    ¡°You will pay for the best that is available,¡± Allora countered. ¡°As well as a supply of stones to see us over the mountains until I can get back to Gilriel¡¯s cottage.¡±

    Allora thought he would start spitting fire from between his fanged teeth as he descended into a string of curses in his native Demonic that made her ears ring. The language could have strange effects on those without demonic blood and could itself be used as a form of magic if someone sufficiently powerful and proficient so desired. Revos was skilled and a member of the royal family at that, even if he was in exile. She doubted he was even aware of the effect as she stumbled slightly, his verbal onslaught making her feel like the ground was tilting underneath her feet. From the corner of her eye, she noticed an old woman close enough to be in earshot suddenly faint and collapse into a leather merchant¡¯s doorway.

    Allora recovered her balance but didn¡¯t speak, knowing it was better to let him bluster until he had blown himself out. He was one of the most powerful magic users she knew but could be surprisingly childish when he was in a mood. She found that enduring his tantrums from time to time worked well in getting him to do what she wanted.

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Revos said after a few more moments of grumbling.

    ¡°Good,¡± she replied in a clipped but satisfied tone. She had also found it best not to gloat. She didn¡¯t want him to realize she could pluck his strings like a lyre if she needed to.

    They walked through the next several intersections in silence as the spire grew larger before them. Her trip to meet Revos all those weeks ago had been her first time seeing it and the structure still awed her. It seemed impossibly large when one was standing before it. And there was something hypnotic about the flowing patterns of minerals that had formed around the eruption over the centuries. She¡¯d almost lost herself in swirls and eddies that first time. It made her feel less foolish when she finally snapped out of it, soaked to the bone, to see that others had stood transfixed as well. It was one of the great natural wonders of Tawadunn.

    Allora gazed at the towering spire and her thoughts returned to Mitchell. She was anxious about being away from him but she was trying not to let it show. She could not be with him all the time and he needed to find his independence in his new home. She had little trust in their mysterious companion but Lethelin had sworn her oath to him and not even a thief would break an oath made to Stollar. Things had a way of going badly for those that dared.

    So Allora had allowed the sneaky purse snatcher to take him on ahead and let him experience his first city apart from her. But if anything happened to Mitchell she would have the woman¡¯s head faster than that foul-mouthed Varset dock rat could say fish. She had almost lost herself in dreams of glorious revenge when Revos spoke up.

    ¡°I will take the boy to a jeweler I know at the Dragon Academy and see him fitted first thing in the morning. He is the best in the city. It shouldn¡¯t take but an hour or so. So we will have the remainder of today to rest. Perhaps you would like to join me in my room at the bathhouse? We can pick up where we left off before you went to fetch the kingling.¡±

    Allora lost a step and nearly bumped into a servant carrying a basket of desert plums. Once she recovered herself and apologized to the poor girl, she stared up at Revos in dumb silence. He had stopped to see why she had stopped.

    ¡°You wish me to share your bed?¡±

    Revos, apparently not picking up on the incredulity that should have been plain on her face, explained as if he were talking about the weather.

    ¡°Why not? I¡¯ve been without companionship since Ivaran captured me and it¡¯s been at least as long for you. And we nearly spent the night together before you left anyway, so I know there is some attraction for you as well.¡±

    ¡°He must be joking,¡± she thought to herself. ¡°Surely he was joking.¡±

    But a look at his face conveyed his seriousness. It took her a moment to order her thoughts.

    ¡°Revos¡­¡± she began. ¡°I admit that the night before I went to Mitchell¡¯s world I was feeling afraid and your offer was tempting. It has been longer than I care to admit since I have lain with someone. But to think that I would accept the offer now is¡­ Revos you betrayed me to Ivaran! We could have been killed!¡±

    Revos blinked his serpent eyes at her and a look of puzzlement creased the ridges of his brow.

    ¡°Yes, but it worked out. And you know more than most that it wasn¡¯t personal. I didn¡¯t have a choice.¡±

    He really thought she would bed him after that! Admittedly, she had had limited experience with cambions before meeting Revos but even this seemed extreme. King Baylor had taken a disliking to them early in his reign and relationships between the Onyx Throne and the Hellfire Council had been frosty her entire life, but were they all as callous and clueless as the one before her?

    ¡°Revos,¡± Allora began, trying to maintain her calm. ¡°I will not share your bed. Not tonight and not ever. I do not fault you for saving your own life. I knew your nature before I asked you for help. You are a fine and handsome male of your species but any chance you may have had with me vanished the moment Ivaran¡¯s men found me in Mitchell¡¯s world. I am sorry. You betrayed me. I do not blame you, but it was a betrayal nonetheless.¡±

    The cambion stared at her for several heartbeats as she saw him trying to process her refusal.

    ¡°But you are fine!¡± he insisted with that note of petulance back in his voice. ¡°The boy is fine! All that is in the past.¡±

    ¡°It is in the past but it is not forgotten. I can never forget it. I am grateful that you have helped but I also consider that payment for the debt you owe for your hand in the events that transpired, and my gratitude does not extend to your bed.¡±

    His face twisted and it looked like he wanted to swear at her but instead, he mastered his emotions, turned on his heel, and stalked off toward the spire.

    Allora let out a long sigh and followed a few paces behind. It seemed she was in for another tantrum.

 Chapter 20

    Mitchell broke the kiss and stepped back from Lethelin feeling dizzy. As he blinked the water from his eyes and looked down at her, she was just coming out of the trance of their first kiss. Her grass-green eyes met his, droplets of mist clinging to each eyelash. Neither said anything for a moment.

    ¡°Why did you do that?¡± Lethelin asked, sounding a little winded.

    ¡°It felt like the right thing to do,¡± Mitchell said.

    If he had stopped to think about it beforehand, he probably wouldn¡¯t have done it. Mitchell didn¡¯t even know if people kissed on this world. He might have been committing a huge cultural taboo. She could have taken offense and stuck her wickedly pointed knife in his gut. But she hadn¡¯t. She¡¯d leaned into the kiss and returned it with just as much fervor.

    Lethelin licked her lips, collecting more moisture from the wellspring on her tongue. She studied him for a moment, then stood up on her toes and pulled him down in the same motion, reinitiating the kiss. There was more heat this time and they wrapped their arms around each other as people came and went through the lush park with no one paying them any mind. Public displays of affection were apparently no problem.

    Mitchell felt himself swelling and Lethelin felt it too. As their lips came apart she giggled, eyed him with a devious twinkle in her eye, and pushed her hips into his.

    ¡°I hope you''re better with your spear than you are with your sword,¡± she said as she leaned in and nipped at his neck.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to need a minute before we separate, I think,¡± Mitchell said, feeling his face heat up even with the cool mist of the wellspring soaking him through.

    Lethelin gave a throaty laugh as her hands slid down his back and she grabbed two handfuls of his ass.

    ¡°Walk close behind me to the fence,¡± she told him with a wicked grin.

    She pulled away from him and he did his best to rearrange himself so his erection wasn¡¯t obvious and stuck close to her. Luckily, no one seemed to notice.

    A few moments later they were at the fence and Mitchell had a chance to see the wellspring in all its glory. The ground just on the other side of the fence sloped sharply down a good ten meters or so into a glimmering crystal blue lake that encircled the wellspring. It didn¡¯t look that deep but Mitchell had an idea that his eyes were playing tricks on him. It looked like he could wade across it all the way to the spire but the cerulean depths suggested it was some sort of optical illusion brought on the by the purity of the water.

    As he scanned around the huge circumference of the lake, he saw screws that had been sunk into the water and which were pulling it up into large elevated tanks which had pipes running off at different angles. Some of those tanks had other screws connected to them which brought the liquid up even higher. The highest ones connected to aqueducts.

    ¡°Those are Archimedes screws!¡± Mitchell exclaimed. First aqueducts and now the screws.

    Lethelin glanced up at him, water trickling down her face, and said ¡°You¡¯re doing the thing again where you say words that make no sense.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a thing that was invented over 2,000 years ago on my world,¡± he shouted to be heard over the roar of water crashing down from the spire.

    ¡°Well, here we just call them water screws. Not archi¡­ archadema whatever.¡±

    Apples. Aquaducts. Archimedes screws. Humans on another world. There were too many coincidences. If he was to be a king on this world, he was determined to figure out its connection to his own.

    Marveling at the awesome sight before him, Mitchell noticed something else interesting. There were people hanging down at points all around the perimeter of the lake. He saw them working away at the mineral deposits with small hammers and pick axes. He asked Lethelin about it.

    ¡°They¡¯re collecting the mineral build-up for use in various alchemical recipes. It¡¯s quite useful and it helps maintain the area. There are crews who work daily cleaning up deposits all over the city. The stuff they scrape off the ground and the buildings isn¡¯t as useful as the pure deposits from the lake, but it still has to be done. Otherwise, the whole inner city would be coated in the stuff.¡±

    Lethelin, grinning, glanced down at his crotch to see if he¡¯d returned to a more appropriate state and, finding him presentable, said they should push on to the bathhouse.

    ¡°It¡¯s not far. And we definitely need to get you shaved. Your beard is scratchy.¡±

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    Mitchell reached up and rubbed his hand over his jaw and chin. He¡¯d never grown a beard before. There was one semester in college when he got a little too into the old Seattle grunge thing and had grown a goatee, but once he saw it wasn¡¯t doing him any favors with the girls, he¡¯d shaved it off. A razor hadn¡¯t touched his face since he¡¯d arrived, however. He was suddenly glad he didn¡¯t have a mirror.

    Lethelin laced her fingers between his and they veered off to the left and found a path leading out of the park. They passed several other people enjoying the water as they had, and he saw a lot of couples having water-logged picnics. He also noticed more than a few groups of people that were clearly romantically involved¨Cmen with multiple women, women with multiple men, and mixed groups of both genders. Race didn¡¯t seem to matter much either. Humans with elves, elves with orcs, a handful of dwarves, and a couple of other species he hadn¡¯t learned the names of yet.

    As they emerged from the last line of trees, Mitchell asked Lethelin about the apparent polyamory that was going on.

    ¡°So you can have more than one partner here?¡±

    Lethelin gave him a curious look.

    ¡°If you want. Why wouldn¡¯t you? Do they not where you¡¯re from?¡±

    ¡°I mean, some people do, but it¡¯s still a bit of a cultural taboo. Most people who have multiple partners don¡¯t advertise it.¡±

    Lethelin scoffed.

    ¡°Is your whole world made up of Haliks?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°One of the more fish-brained things they believe is that multiple partners weakens the soul. They call it ¡®sharing the light¡¯. If you lay with too many people, your soul¡¯s light is diminished and you are less able to receive Stollar¡¯s blessings.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Mitchell said.

    ¡°You¡¯re only supposed to share your light with one person and that person will be bonded with you in the afterlife for all eternity. So they say.¡±

    ¡°Our culture has somewhat similar beliefs, yeah. A lot of it has to do with religion.¡±

    Mitchell decided that he hadn¡¯t misheard the orc baker earlier when he¡¯d said wives. He must really have had more than one.

    ¡°Here people can do what they want,¡± Lethelin continued. ¡°If you only want one partner, you just have one. That¡¯s what my mother and father had. She had offers, as I said. But she always said my father was her heart¡¯s twin and he was all she ever wanted. She never rebonded after he died.¡±

    Her face took on a wistful appearance as she remembered her parents but before Mitchell could ask for more details, she snapped out of her reverie and looked around.

    ¡°Anyway, we¡¯re here!¡±

    They had emerged from between a couple of beautiful four-story buildings into a plaza. More of the large trees circled another fountain but this one had a large statue at the center, much more impressive than a lot of the other smaller sculptures crowning so many of the public fountains they¡¯d passed as they walked to the spire. This one depicted a four-meter tall voluptuous nude woman carved of midnight black stone with veins of gold running all through it.

    Water appeared to be flowing down in a thick stream from the pitcher into a nearly still pool about a meter across surrounded by a wide variety of multicolored flowers that, once again, Mitchell had no name for.

    ¡°That¡¯s Denass,¡± Lethelin informed him as she saw him staring at the statue.

    She was exquisite in every detail. Denass was bent forward holding a water pitcher made of polished gold that gleamed like a small sun in the bright light of morning. Her face was serene and ageless. The smile was loving and welcoming, as if she knew all of your faults, every dark secret and misdeed, but she loved you anyway. Her body was the definition of statuesque. It looked as if, at any moment, she would stop pouring the water and start moving, and he could have sworn he saw strands of the figure¡¯s hair blowing in the breeze but when he gave those flowing black tresses a solid look they were as immobile as¡­well, stone.

    The stream pouring out of the golden pitcher appeared unmoving and for a moment Mitchell thought it was some sort of perfectly clear crystal, but as he got closer he saw that there was the barest ripple in the pool as the liquid made contact. But as it flowed out of the pitcher it didn¡¯t even shimmer.

    Mitchell stood for several heartbeats just staring in awe at the representation of one of this world¡¯s gods. He wanted to crawl up on the pedestal and touch it but he didn¡¯t see anyone else up there so he figured that would be a bad move. His eyes told him that if he touched it, rather than finding cool stone he would find warm flesh and he was aching to see if he was right.

    ¡°Yeah, we get it, she¡¯s beautiful. Come on, loverboy!¡± Lethelin snickered, glancing at his crotch again as she dragged him away. ¡°And don¡¯t worry. You¡¯re not the first one to react to her that way. Myself, I think she enjoys the attention.¡±

    ¡°She looks so real,¡± was all he could say as she pulled him to the other side of the fountain and stopped in front of a large circular building.

    The exterior of the bathhouse was made of a cream-colored marble stone that had similar veins of gold running through it as the statue. The large entryway was flanked on either side by two statues of women carved in the same black stone as the statue of Denass dressed in gossamer white robes with their hands reaching skyward in a gesture of supplication. Above them water flowed from the mouths of two faces carved into the marble, one male and one female, between the women¡¯s hands and onto their heads before cascading down their bodies.

    The building itself was three stories tall and faced with windows that ran the entire circumference from what Mitchell could see. Carved all along the surface were scenes that Mitchell assumed were from this world¡¯s past, or from folk tales. It reminded him a lot of the kind of things he would see on cathedrals back home.

    Lethelin informed him that the upper floors were for the really rich people. The bulk of the bathhouse was underground and extended at least five levels as far as she knew. Possibly more.

    ¡°Can we afford this?¡± Mitchell asked, as she led him up the wide staircase towards two large brass doors where two very muscular humans, one white and one black, stood in loincloths. As they approached, the men moved in sync and pulled the doors open on silent hinges.

    ¡°Yep! Come on, let¡¯s get you cleaned up. I bet you¡¯re a pretty slick fish once you¡¯ve properly bathed.¡±

 Chapter 21

    The inside of the Maiden¡¯s Mist reminded Mitchell of a fancy hotel lobby. The air was substantially cooler than the humid desert heat outside, so much so that Mitchell wondered if they had somehow discovered air conditioning without the benefit of electricity. Probably something magical, he concluded. He was irritated for a moment at being born into a universe that had almost no mana but the thought quickly fell away as he took in the palatial setting.

    The space was elegantly appointed with more statuary of what he assumed were depictions of various gods, plus some other things that looked like sea creatures to fit with the water theme. Some were beautiful mermaid-like beings while others looked terrifying with too many tentacles, fangs, eyes, or fins. Large broad-leaved plants and trees were spread around the circular space and it felt a little like a greenhouse. The air was so thick with the scent of flora that Mitchell imagined he could almost taste the exotic flavor of the foreign greenery on his tongue.

    A handful of people moved about the lobby in various stages of undress. He identified the staff of the bathhouse quickly enough. They were all beautiful and in excellent shape. The males were almost uniformly tall and looked like they stepped out of a Men¡¯s Health magazine and the women appread to be heading for a photo shoot on a tropical island somewhere. Most of the staff looked human but there were a few elves walking among them as well as some that looked like a hybrid between the two with less sharply pointed ears and eyes less dramatically slanted than their fellow elves. Their clothing was also similar. The women on the staff wore one-piece garments that wrapped around their necks, crossed over their breasts and became short skirts around their waists. It left plenty of cleavage exposed and their midriffs were completely bare. The men wore loincloths and some had a loose-fitting vest not that dissimilar from the one he wore, while others were bare-chested and glistening. Some were carrying supplies. Others were escorting guests, most of which were wearing robes and some of which were almost nude themselves.

    He felt more than a little out of place as they walked towards a circular reception desk made of a deep ebony-colored wood. They were wearing the same clothes they had been for the last several days and, while the water from the spire had helped in washing away some of the road dust, it also left them with streaks of ruddy brown all over his exposed skin where it hadn¡¯t been fully washed off. To his dismay, he also saw they were leaving muddy footprints on the polished sandstone-colored floor. He was sure at any moment a staff member would ask them to leave, but no one did.

    There was a man and a woman behind the desk and they weren¡¯t wearing the gossamer robes of the other staff. The woman, a short but curvy human female with blonde hair and honey-brown eyes was wearing a blouse that was cinched tight around ample hips and flared open at the neck to expose breasts that were almost popping out. The man beside her was slightly taller than Mitchell but in substantially better shape. His oiled muscled shined in the soft light of the magical flames encircling the room and his hair was cut close to his head. His shirt was just as tight as the woman¡¯s and seemed to be tailored to accentuate every bulge on his chest. If either of them cared about Mitchell¡¯s and Lethelin¡¯s rough and dirty appearance they didn¡¯t give any sign. Mitchell guessed they must get people in like them all the time since this city appeared to be a bit of a hub between the mountains and the capital.

    After some intense haggling between Lethelin and the hostess, the diminutive thief managed to knock off a gold piece - or fang, as it was referred to here - from the price, a fact which seemed to please her immensely. For some reason during the exchange, the hostess kept glancing at some runes that were carved along the surface of the desk. Mitchell was unsure what she was looking for there but - whatever it was - she didn¡¯t seem to find it.

    ¡°Enjoy your stay at The Maiden¡¯s Mist, if it be Stollar¡¯s desire,¡± the woman said, her smile forced and her lips tight.

    Lethelin pulled the strings on her coin purse tight and secreted it away somewhere inside her cloak.

    ¡°Under his shining light, I have every confidence that we will,¡± Lethelin chirped back, her face all smiles and thanks as she pointedly ignored the near scowl of the woman behind the counter.

    There was a little discussion as Lethelin gave a description of Allora and Revos but Mitchell noticed that she did not provide names.

    Finally, all details settled, the woman rang a small bell. From nearby, a young human woman gave a small bow with her hands clasped demurely in front of her waist. She looked no older than 18 but had long, deep brown hair reaching down to her lower back.

    ¡°Please escort our guests to the Silver Grotto and place them in suites twelve and thirteen,¡± the hostess instructed.

    ¡°If it is Stollar¡¯s desire, it will be so,¡± the petite young woman answered.

    Then, looking at Lethelin and Mitchell, she said, ¡°If you would please follow me.¡±

    She turned sharply on her heel and headed left away from the desk towards a large staircase that went down. Mitchell and Lethelin followed a few paces behind, her arm hooked into his.

    ¡°Priestesses,¡± Lethelin said, her voice pitched low so their guide would not overhear.  ¡°No sense of humor.¡±

    Mitchell raised an eyebrow at her.

    ¡°That woman is a priestess?¡±

    ¡°All the staff here are either priests, priestesses, or acolytes of Stollar. Very uptight.¡±

    ¡°Was it a good idea to say that her mother had been mounted by a¨C¡± Mitchell paused to try and remember what Lethelin had remarked during the negotiations. ¡°By a ¡®bankrupt horker breeder¡¯? I don¡¯t think she liked that very much.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say it,¡± Lethelin corrected him quickly. ¡°Implied, sure. But I didn¡¯t say it.¡±

    Lethelin gave him a big grin and he heard their guide gasp at the apparent insult.

    Seeing the look on his face, she assured him they would not be getting arrested for blasphemy or anything like that. Mitchell only somewhat believed her.

    ****

    After following their guide down three levels and through a long hall bathed in a silvery glow from hovering mage lights along the walls, Mitchell had come to the conclusion that these people loved art. Almost every surface was decorated in some way, either with topiary, frescoes, mosaics, scenes in bas-relief, statues, or paintings.

    He and Lethelin were shown to their private rooms which he was told had adjoining doors. Lethelin said she would check on him in about an hour and recommended he take a long soak and scrub himself from head to toe. A shaving kit would be delivered and he could chop off his beard if he wanted.

    The room would have passed for a four or five-star hotel back home, possibly at some resort. It was one large square that had been cut straight into the rock. He estimated it was perhaps eight meters across and ten meters deep. The central feature was obviously the tub, although calling it that didn¡¯t quite do it justice.

    The far end of the room opposite the door was a rather large bathing pool that could have fit six or seven people comfortably. Carved into the back wall was a bas-relief of an underwater garden. Coming out of the wall were statues of two mer creatures, a male and a female judging by their chest anatomy, although their faces were far more fish-like than human. They were each holding a silver pitcher that was angled to pour but no water was coming out. The floor of the bathing pool was done in a dazzling mosaic of two moons transiting a night sky, obviously meant to represent Ithstasy and Vish. On one side, were seats formed out of the stone and on the other was a section that looked like it was made for lying down in but was raised high enough to keep one¡¯s head above the water.

    Along the wall near the door was a plush bed that looked so comfortable Mitchell almost forgot about bathing. Just the thought of sleeping in a real bed made him groan. He¡¯d been camping each night on the ground for more days than he could properly remember. If it weren¡¯t for the thought of ruining the clean bedding he would have collapsed into it straight away.

    There was also a table that could seat four, as well as some long sofas and a loveseat spaced around the room. Everything was done in pale blues and greens that he found incredibly soothing. A small sectioned-off area revealed a strange-looking toilet. He saw no handles or levers that might bring in water or flush but he did see three silvery seashells that were inset into a small recess into the wall next to the toilet and he resolved to figure it out later. And he once again marveled at the apparent parallel evolution on this world. A clam was a clam no matter the universe, he guessed.

    Lethelin had informed him to just throw his clothes in a pile by the door and there would be clean things he could wear until they got proper clothes ordered in the evening. He did just that, stripping naked and walking over to the bathing pool. He saw controls of a sort set into the floor just next to the steps that led into the pool and they weren¡¯t hard to figure out. There was a lever that was set into a slot that could adjust the temperature and flow from the two silver pitchers held by the statues. He found smaller nobs that controlled the drain in the floor and one that allowed water to flow from a series of small holes in the ceiling rather than the spouts. This functioned as a shower. He could almost weep for the joy of it.

    Activating the water and leaving the drain open he found citrusy-smelling soaps and scrubbing towels and, setting the temperature as hot as he could stand it, stepped into his first shower since the day he¡¯d been pulled into this world. The tingling water of the wellspring coursing over his whole body was impossible to describe but it made him giggle and he didn¡¯t care. Immediately his muscles began to unclench and he let out a groan so loud it was almost a scream as the pleasure overwhelmed him. He had to resist the urge to slide down to the floor and let the shower water pound him into oblivion. Nothing had ever felt so good in his life.

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    Mitchell wasn¡¯t sure how long he stayed under the steaming water but it was long enough for his skin to be beet red and his fingers to start to go pruney. Reluctantly he stepped out of the spray and began to lather up and scrub down. He pretended he couldn¡¯t see the rivers of dirt and grime that the coarse hand towels removed from his body. Once he was clean he lathered up and did it again. Then again. He reveled in the feeling of being clean. Only when his skin was nearly raw from the scrubbing did he relent. Then he went over to the controls, closed off the drain, and turned on the water from the wall. He added some scented oils and the room quickly filled with a citrus smell that reminded him of freshly squeezed lemons and pine. The pool filled quickly and he laid down in the recliner section that was formed to fit a humanoid shape, only moving again when the water was at his chin. He found the lever just behind his head and pulled it back to the neutral position to stop the flow. The sound of silence was almost deafening after the roar of the water and then he only heard his breathing in the still room and the occasional sound of dripping. He closed his eyes and simply lay.

    No one was hunting him here. No one was snapping at his skin with whips of air, or laying into him with a wooden sword. It was the first moment of true peace he¡¯d had since he arrived on this god-forsaken planet. He was weary. He felt it in his bones. A weariness that he had never known before. Days of nothing but struggle to get out of this hellish desert and to train his mind and body, all so that he could be prepared to take on a tyrant, save a kingdom, and win the love of a woman.

    That last thought made him pause. Most of the time during their travels he could ignore the problem of Allora. There was always something more important going on than the tension between the two of them. But here, in the quiet of his room, all he had were his thoughts. Mitchell was truly alone for the first time. He didn¡¯t even have his Spotify playlist to distract him. What he wouldn¡¯t give for some Tom Waits or a little Otis Redding. Maybe even Lana Del Rey. People back home sometimes talked shit about her, but Mitchell always enjoyed her mellow voice. Tom and Otis knew about heartbreak and longing though.

    ¡°Yeah, that will help my mood,¡± Mitchell said sarcastically to the empty room.

    Sometimes Mitchell saw her looking at him and thought she must be feeling something. He felt he was getting better at reading her elvish expressions. Allora¡¯s face would go still sometimes and, in the beginning, he didn¡¯t know what it meant exactly. But, after weeks together, he thought he was starting to understand her. When he tried to have casual conversations with her, that¡¯s when she went still. That was her wall. Her eyes would lose focus and she would look through him. Her responses would be monosyllabic unless she was teaching him something. Did she still hate him? Did she resent him being so weak? Mitchell didn¡¯t think so because when she thought he wasn¡¯t looking he saw genuine concern on her face. But when he tried to talk to her, her gaze went cold.

    The stress was helping him though. Mitchell would throw himself into his practice to burn off the frustration of it all and had earned some grudging nods of approval from both Revos and Allora. He had asked about learning Lethelin¡¯s style of fighting since she seemed to favor daggers, but Allora had refused. The styles were totally different and would only confuse him. He needed to master the fundamentals of the longsword before she would entertain any other fighting styles. Lethelin, never one to be shown up, remarked that Allora just didn¡¯t want to be embarrassed by a common girl from the docks of Varset. Allora hadn¡¯t taken the bait, though, and simply arched one delicate eyebrow. It had almost felt like they were fighting over him, which amused Mitchell somewhat.

    That brought him back to Lethelin. The other dangerous, potentially psychotic woman in his life. He felt a very strong attraction to her as well, though it was different. Mitchell had always liked strong women and Lethelin, for all her small stature, was that. He had not sparred with her nor had he seen her use her blades in combat, but she moved with the same kind of grace that Allora did.

    Even when she didn¡¯t need to, Lethelin almost never made a sound when she walked. Then there was the way she sometimes vanished. It was the damnedest thing. She would be sitting somewhere, usually while they rested or trained, and, when he would look again, she was gone. Then later, she would be right back where she was, as if she hadn¡¯t moved at all when clearly she had. Something was strange about her and even when Revos tested her for magical abilities and said she was truly dun, Mitchell had trouble accepting it. He was sure there was more than met the eye.

    Allora was not impressed, however.

    In his opinion, Allora was underestimating the red-headed woman¡¯s skills. Perhaps it had to do with their different upbringings. Allora had been born into privilege and Lethelin had grown up on the streets. Not that she¡¯d been poor, she talked often enough about her mother¡¯s successful business before she¡¯d been murdered by Ivaran, but she had chosen to live on the fringes and had rejected the comforts of an upper-middle-class life. Something had drawn her to a life of crime and murder and Mitchell wondered just how safe they were with her. But that edge to her personality, that hint of cold murder, was also exciting.

    If Allora was the moral center of their little merry band of adventurers, Lethelin was the seed of chaos. Her morals were way more flexible and her actions were harder to predict. Mitchell had a decent sense of Allora¡¯s character but Lethelin¡¯s was more fluid. Would she kiss you or slip a knife between your ribs? Only one way to find out.

    And then there was their kiss in the park. Now that some time had passed he had to wonder about what it meant to her. She was a bit of a rogue and an assassin and, promise or not, he didn¡¯t know if he could truly trust her. Not fully, anyway. Not like that.

    His instincts demanded be take her and take her hard. He hadn¡¯t been this long without sex in years.

    Back in his old life, he¡¯d been moderately successful with women, having a few relationships that lasted well over a year and he could usually count on a dating app or a random meeting at a bar to provide him with temporary companionship if he wanted. But, as near as he could tell, they had been on the road roughly two months, if not longer, and there were no women to be found. Until that kiss.

    As much as he wanted to explore that dangerous body of hers, now that he was away from the heat of the moment, he felt he needed to proceed with caution. And then there was Allora to think about. But did she even want him? Then again, men and women had multiple partners in this world. Could he have both of them? That idea stirred some feelings in him for sure. What man wouldn¡¯t want two gorgeous women all to himself?

    ¡°Fuck,¡± Mitchell said to himself. ¡°When did things get so god-damned complicated?¡±

    ¡°Right about the time you decided to offer a stunning elvish warrior woman a ride home,¡± was his answer.

    Lethelin was nearby and he assumed Allora and Revos had arrived by now. No doubt someone would come to check on him soon, but for the moment he had the space to himself. So while he lay in the steaming water he decided to move his thoughts to more practical things and practice his meditation techniques. Better that than getting lost in Pornhub fantasies about threesomes with a cold-blooded assassin and an elf.

    ¡°What are you doing step elf?¡± Mitchell mumbled and then snorted at his own joke.

    Summoning his mana was trivial now. It had become natural to seize it and simply hold it even though he had no spells to cast yet. It filled him with an energy that he couldn¡¯t quite describe. It was almost like he was holding life itself in his hands, as absurd as that sounded when he said it. He loved the feel of it as it flowed out of whatever magical space it was stored in inside his body. He imagined it like a river of light pouring out of his soul and flowing along his body. He also had no problem any longer directing it to different parts of himself. He could send it down his left or right hand or up to his head. It felt the strangest when he did that. The mana seemed to settle in a space just behind his forehead and it sometimes gave him goosebumps. If he held it long enough, it began to feel like he had another consciousness in his mind.

    Revos said there were mystics who would hold their mana in their heads for days at a time, forgoing food, sleep, and even water in the quest for visions or prophecy. Eventually they went mad, assuming they survived extended periods of fasting long enough to suffer the effects. Revos had assured him that the small amount of time he would be holding mana there would be insignificant. Allora used a krisa, which required the magic to be centered in her head, and had been doing so since childhood.

    Mitchell called for his mana and it came, filling his chest with a soft warmth, and began his practice of directing it where he wanted it. At first, this had been tricky and he had failed. Repeatedly. But Revos¡¯s brutal educational tactics had beaten the skill into him and now he could manage it, although not as fast as his tutor said he should. So he would practice now, in the quiet. He intended to send it down his left arm first, into his hand, but as the magic began to move down his bicep he noticed something strange. There was a slight sparkle in the water around his skin. It was almost like minute fireflies swirling in the eddies made by the movement of his body. Startled, he lost the hold on his mana and it dissipated immediately. Then he cursed himself for dropping it so easily and called it back. If Revos had seen how easily he lost his control it would have earned him a lash across some exposed bit of skin with one of his damned air whips.

    Now that Mitchell was looking, he saw the glow begin again around his chest. He dropped the mana and the fireflies vanished once more. He experimented a few more times and then began to move his mana into his limbs. The aquatic fireflies followed. When he started to pool the mana in his left hand as if he were going to cast a spell, something he had practiced often enough, the glow intensified. The swirling lights were almost hypnotic to watch.

    He played around like that for several minutes when there was a chime from the door.

    ¡°Permission to enter, if it be Stollar¡¯s will,¡± a male voice called from the other side of the door.

    ¡°Enter,¡± Mitchell called back.

    The door opened smoothly and one of the staff, a young man who looked to be barely sixteen, set down a small basket on a table just inside the door.

    ¡°Your shaving kit, as you requested,¡± the young man said. ¡°If it be Stollar¡¯s desire, shall I send your clothes to be cleaned?¡±

    He assented. The man grabbed the filthy bundle of clothes and left quietly.

    Putting his practice aside and figuring that he had soaked long enough, he got up and grabbed one of the plush towels arranged next to the bathing pool. As he dried off, he hit the button on the floor that operated the drain and then dressed in a loose pair of shorts that they provided before walking over to examine the shaving kit. He did stop for a moment to admire his physique in the mirror.

    The physical training Allora ran him through daily was just as intense as the magical training but, as with his progress with his mana, his body was showing the effects too. He¡¯d never been a slouch back home, but if he had to guess, he had put on at least five pounds of muscle since they¡¯d been freed. His shoulders looked broader than before and his trapezius muscles were much more visible. The near starvation diet he¡¯d been on while a captive had cost him the small amount of fat he¡¯d been carrying around and then the high-protein diet on top of the training had made him a little bit ripped. He looked damn good if he said so himself. Mitchell could definitely get used to this.

    The shaving kit was not that dissimilar from one he would find back home, only it had a straight razor that he¡¯d never used before.

    ¡°I guess Gillette doesn¡¯t have a trade agreement with Tewadunn,¡± he muttered.

    No five-bladed disposable razors here. Here they did it Sweeny Todd-style.

    Mitchell picked up the gleaming blade and opened it up. It glinted dangerously in the soft light of his room and he imagined it cutting smoothly through his neck and spilling arterial blood all over the mosaic floor. He winced at the clarity of the image in his mind and examined the rest of the kit. It contained a shaving brush, a pair of scissors, and an assortment of creams and lotions.

    ¡°How the hell am I going to do this?¡±

    Just then there was a chime from the other door in his room, the one leading to Lethelin¡¯s suite.

 Chapter 22

    A door chime sounded as Lethelin was finishing brushing her hair. It was indecent the amount of soap she had needed to get the filth out of her hair but it felt so good to finally be clean again. Lethelin looked up and saw it was not Mitchell¡¯s door that had chimed, but the other one. That meant either Allora or Revos.

    She tied the robe around her diminutive form and went over to thumb the small gemstone in the wall that would open the door. Despite the locking mechanism being magical in nature, it operated by ordinary touch, sliding smoothly into the wall. Her visitor was Allora, also freshly scrubbed and wearing a more buxom version of Lethelin¡¯s robe. She once again felt a sharp sting of jealousy. As always, the knight had her full lips pursed into a firm line. Was she never in a good mood? The woman could give a rock turtle lessons in brooding.

    ¡°Yes, m¡¯lady? If it pleases Stollar, how may I be of service?¡± Lethelin said, her voice saccharine and obsequious. She could see a tightening around Allora¡¯s violet eyes. The gods-damned elf never rose to the bait but she hated being addressed as a noble and it was fun to needle her.

    ¡°May I come in?¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    Lethelin stepped to the side but resisted the urge to bow. That would be a little too much and taunts should be chosen carefully.

    Allora strode into the room like it was her own and began to look around as if searching for something. She looked twice at the bed, which was undisturbed and Lethelin understood.

    ¡°He¡¯s not here,¡± she announced playfully.

    Rather than answer, Allora turned her piercing gaze on the thief.

    ¡°Were there any problems getting here? Did anything happen or did anyone interfere?¡±

    ¡°No one interfered. And¡­ Nothing happened.¡±

    She tried unsuccessfully to hide the little smile at the memory of their kiss in the garden. ¡°Straight here, as the lady commanded.¡±

    Allora cocked her head, not missing the hesitation.

    ¡°Explain, please.¡±

    ¡°Nothing! We just had a little moment in the Spire Garden is all,¡± she hesitated. ¡°We kissed. Just a kiss.¡±

    Allora looked her up and down again, studying her anew. Lethelin saw her purple eyes take in the touch of color to her cheeks and lips that Lethelin had applied from her meager store of supplies. She took a couple of steps closer to her then and inhaled deeply.

    ¡°White Lotus,¡± Allora said. It wasn¡¯t a question.

    Lethelin was impressed.

    ¡°I keep a little in my bag,¡± she said with a smirk. ¡°A girl never knows when she might need some.¡±

    ¡°I cannot allow you to bed him,¡± the elf said without preamble.

    ¡°I¡­¡± Lethelin sputtered as she felt an instant heat in her face. ¡°You cannot allow? Pardon me, m¡¯lady,¡± she continued, letting scorn drip off the title. ¡°But I don¡¯t remember asking your permission. I bed whom I please!¡±

    ¡°Mitchell is not just anyone. He is not a toy for you to play with. Until I am certain you can be trusted with him, I will not permit it.¡±

    ¡°The sheer fucking audacity of this stuck-up little elfin princess!¡± Lethelin said to herself.

    But she wasn¡¯t about to back down. It was about the principle of the thing now.

    ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡± Lethelin said after she had collected her thoughts and squared her shoulders. ¡°You just don¡¯t want to share?¡±

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    Allora¡¯s eyes widened slightly. It wasn¡¯t a lot but Lethelin had learned to read her stone face.

    That¡¯s it, isn¡¯t it? If you can¡¯t have him I can¡¯t either?¡±

    ¡°I do not want him,¡± Allora stammered. ¡°I am here to protect him and see him to the throne. That is all.¡±

    ¡°Jivi piss!¡± Lethelin spat. She stepped forward and glared up at the taller woman. ¡°Even the clorvol is sick of seeing you moon after him. If you don¡¯t want to share him, at least be honest about it! Or is it just me you don¡¯t approve of? Don¡¯t want him bedding some commoner from the docks? Is only that noble elf pussy of yours good enough for the future monarch?¡±

    Allora visibly winced under the vulgar verbal assault before she seemed to remember herself. Then it was her turn to glare.

    ¡°Once he has obtained the throne and bonded with Awen he may have anyone he likes,¡± Allora shot back, her voice tight. ¡±Even common dock rat thieves from the sewers of Varset. But for all our sakes, I hope he has more sense than that. I would rather see him bed the ugliest whore in the most disease-ridden brothel in the filthiest port in all of Tewadunn than you!¡±

    Lethelin, deep into her temper now, pulled back to slap the self-righteous bitch before she knew what she was doing. Allora, unfazed, caught her wrist in an iron grip just inches from her cheek and didn¡¯t even flinch.

    ¡°But until he is on the throne,¡± Allora leaned in, her voice cold as the ocean depths, ¡°You will keep your hands off of him!¡±

    Allora accentuated those final words with a shove that sent Lethelin staggering backward and into a chair, almost toppling it over. She was about to stand up and fight, Onyx Knight or no, but a look from Allora¡¯s eyes, and the glow of her krisa stopped her cold. She was holding a spell and Lethelin had no doubt she would use it. What had she been thinking? Fighting her head-on was suicide and her mother hadn¡¯t raised a fool.

    ¡°Get ahold of yourself, you silly sea cow!¡±

    Lethelin froze, trying to ignore the ache in her spine where she slammed into the frame of the chair. She would feel that in the morning. Nine hells, she felt it now.

    Allora stepped cooly up to her. When she spoke her voice was icy steel.

    ¡°Mitchell is walking a knife¡¯s edge. The strain of the magical training alone would break lesser men and women. Revos is doing things to him that would see him imprisoned in most nations. Mitchell has been ripped from his home, yanked from everything and everyone he loves, caged, beaten, starved, and abused. He has been told he is the one that will save a kingdom that he has never seen, rescue a people he has never met, and that he is to learn to command powers he has not even begun to understand.¡±

    Lethelin swallowed and it was a struggle not to look away in embarrassment.

    ¡°I worry every day that he will crack under the pressure,¡± Allora continued, her voice hot. ¡°That he will fail because I¨C¡± She cut off abruptly and swallowed what she had been about to say. She closed her eyes, took a calming breath, and then opened them again, focusing those chips of purple crystal squarely on Lethelin¡¯s own. Lethelin wanted to flinch away but Allora¡¯s steely gaze held her fast.

    ¡°I have sacrificed more than you can comprehend and I will not see it fail now because some piece of Varset trash could not keep her pants on. If you want to bed someone there are men and women aplenty here that will service you. But if I catch you in his bed, I will kill you. I will not risk all of Awenor because, with everything else he must endure, he must also endure a broken heart when you inevitably betray him. He does not see you for what you are. But I do.¡±

    The silence in the room was so thick that Lethelin thought she could push it around like piles of sea salt. The anger that had been seething inside her began to drain slowly like water through a leaky bucket. Allora stepped back, the glow of her krisa winking out. She¡¯d dropped whatever spell she had been holding and Lethelin felt a little bit of tension release from her shoulders. The fiercely beautiful woman turned away towards the door to Mitchell¡¯s room but for just a moment Lethelin thought she saw something like embarrassment or shame on her usually stoic face.

    After several heartbeats, Allora spoke again.

    ¡°Mitchell is a good man. An honorable man.¡±

    Allora¡¯s voice had changed, now sounding almost like she was talking to herself.

    ¡°He has accepted an almost impossible task and he has not uttered a word of complaint at what he has been asked to do. He deserves someone that will honor him and respect him. Not use him for their own purposes. And you, Lethelin¡­¡± That edge came back into her voice. ¡°You made your intentions clear with the ridiculous price you demanded to aid us to save your own people! Your home! We are fighting as much for you as for everyone else!¡±

    Lethelin had no taunts this time.

    Without looking back, the elf began walking towards Mitchell¡¯s door. Lethelin watched her, her back as straight and proud as the mast of a royal yacht, and felt a cold knot of shame well up from deep inside her stomach. For a moment she thought she might vomit, the feeling was so intense.

    As Allora raised her hand to ring the chime, the thief finally recovered her voice.

    ¡°I won¡¯t betray him,¡± she said to the knight¡¯s back. Even to her own ears, it sounded weak.

    Allora¡¯s hand paused, but still she didn¡¯t turn around.

    ¡°When I believe that,¡± she said, her voice quiet. ¡°I will not stand in your way if you wish to take him to your bed.¡±

    Allora thumbed the small crystal set into the wall to ring the chime for Mitchell¡¯s room.

 Chapter 23

    Mitchell walked to the door and stared at the two small crystals set into the stone. They were obviously some sort of mechanism to control it but they weren¡¯t labeled. Not that he would have been able to understand the language if they had been. Learning to read and write was just another thing on his ever-growing list of things to do.

    One crystal was yellow, the other red, and both were about the size of his thumbnail. Picking the red one at random, he touched it and felt a very small tingle where the pad of his middle finger made contact with the gemstone. There was a small click inside the wall and it slid smoothly into a recess.

    Mitchell was a little surprised to find Allora on the other side of the door rather than Lethelin. He noticed a somewhat sour look on her face, but then again, she usually had that expression so he shouldn¡¯t be surprised. However, there was a tension around her eyes and brow that he didn¡¯t often see. Something was bothering her.

    ¡°Oh¡­ Umm, hi, Allora. I thought this was Lethelin¡¯s room.¡±

    ¡°It is. I was just having a conversation with her and I wanted to see how you were doing. May I come in?¡±

    Mitchell peered behind Allora to see Lethelin getting slowly to her feet from a chair and wincing while her hand went to her lower back. She glanced at the door but didn¡¯t meet Mitchell¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°What had gone on in there?¡± Mitchell wondered.

    Looking back to Allora he said, ¡°Yeah, of course.¡±

    He stepped back and she walked past him. The smell of her freshly washed skin filled his nose. It wasn¡¯t the same as his citrus smell, hers was more floral. Her hair, now clean and properly brushed, was pulled back in a ponytail and it shimmered in the soft light of his room. She was wearing a robe almost identical to his and the thought of her athletic body being naked underneath was enough to almost make him giddy.

    The door slid shut behind him as Allora walked to the center of the room.

    ¡°It is almost the same as mine. I hope you did not find the controls too confusing. I know from my time on your world that you do not have bathing facilities like this.¡±

    Allora gestured to the bathing pool and the controls.

    ¡°No, it was fine,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°The lever and buttons are easy enough to figure out.¡±

    Allora gave him one of her rare smiles.

    ¡°I would¡­ uh, offer you something to drink but I don¡¯t have anything here.¡±

    Allora raised an eyebrow almost playfully.

    ¡°Do not be so sure.¡±

    She went over to the bed, leaned down slightly, and Mitchell saw her thumb another crystal set into the wall that he hadn¡¯t noticed before. A small panel popped open and swung to the side. Mitchell walked up behind Allora and stared curiously as she withdrew two small clay jugs that sloshed when she handed them to him. He was surprised to find they were cold.

    ¡°Is that a mini-fridge?¡± Mitchell asked incredulously.

    She stood and faced him holding a bowl of fruit and kicked the panel closed with her foot.

    ¡°A¡­¡± she paused trying to recreate the non-native word he used. ¡°Mmiinee puledgee?¡±

    ¡°A device for keeping things cold. A refrigerator.¡±

    She crinkled her nose at the strange word but nodded.

    ¡°We call it a chill box. They are expensive to maintain so are not used much but Lethelin chose the rooms well.¡±

    Allora gestured to the table and chairs in the center of the room.

    ¡°Come, let us talk.¡±

    They made themselves comfortable and Allora explained that the jugs contained spring water, which Mitchell drank greedily. She told him that wine and other foods could be ordered if he wished, but they should not go overboard because of their limited funds.

    ¡°What¡¯s the fruit?¡± he asked. It looked to him a little bit like a mango. The size was a bit smaller and the skin all yellow instead of yellow-green like mangoes from Earth.

    ¡°Do you remember your first day in the cage when you spoke with Ivaran?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah.¡± Mitchell winced at the memory. ¡°I don¡¯t think I will ever forget that.¡±

    ¡°Do you remember what he said about dragging you behind the wagon until the sand peeled the skin from you like a lana fruit?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    Instead of answering, Allora picked up one of the palm-sized fruits and, taking it in one hand, grabbed the stem and peeled it back. The skin came away smoothly in a wedge-shaped section and revealed a bright-red fleshy inside. The similarity to muscle tissue was undeniable and Mitchell suddenly got the reference.

    ¡°While they may look unappetizing, I promise they are delicious. Try one.¡±

    Mitchell watched as she peeled a little more of the skin away before taking a bite out of the fruit. Pinkish-red juice shot out from around her lips and started to dribble down her chin, causing her utter a small squeal as she reached for one of the napkins that were arranged neatly in the center of the table.

    Mitchell laughed and resisted the urge to lean forward and lick it off her tanned skin as he reached for another fruit. Following her example, he pinched the stem and gave it a tug and it broke away easily enough. He brought the exposed flesh to his nose and sniffed. The scent reminded him a little of fresh grapes and there was a definite sweetness to it. Almost like you could tell how good a strawberry was going to be just by the smell.

    Allora swallowed her second bite while dabbing at the juice before it ran from her chin to her neck and watched him curiously as he brought the strange fruit to his lips and he took a bite. The juice exploded and coated his tongue. It was cold and sweet and unlike anything he had tasted before. It was as juicy as the ripest summer watermelon but the flesh was firm like an orange. Each time he chewed another burst of liquid exploded and he had to start swallowing lest his mouth begin to overflow.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s perky nipples!¡± Mitchell exclaimed, as he swallowed that first mouthful and tried out the native expression. ¡°That is really good!¡±

    Allora¡¯s eyes went wide and she burst out laughing. She kept laughing so long that Mitchell started laughing too even though he didn¡¯t get the joke. Her pure delight was infectious.

    ¡°What?!?¡± he demanded throwing his wet napkin at her as her laughter began to subside and become deep heaving breaths between the occasional chuckle.

    Her head was thrown back over the chair and one hand was pressed against her stomach. When she looked back at him, she had tears of laughter streaking her face.

    ¡°You have never¨C,¡± her sentence cut off as she had another small giggling fit. ¡°You have never cursed before in our language. And with your pronunciation, it is like¨C¡±

    Allora clamped her mouth shut as she tried to stifle another round of laughing.

    ¡°It is like¡­¡± She heaved in a breath trying to regain her composure. ¡°It is like a toddler.¡±

    ¡°Way to make a guy feel good, you brat!¡± Mitchell said, trying to sound reproachful but his smile gave him away. It was so good to see her in a happy mood he didn¡¯t have the heart to be upset.

    ¡°No no no, please do not misunderstand, Mitchell,¡± Allora said, her breath finally coming under control. ¡°The speed that you have learned Common is truly remarkable. Almost unnatural. But your pronunciation is still odd. You know the words but your mouth is not fully accustomed to forming the sounds. So sometimes when you speak you sound like a small child just learning. And when you said that it was just a little too much.¡±

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    ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± he told her. ¡°I was teasing. I¡¯m just happy to see you smile.¡±

    Mitchell watched her for a reaction to the subtle compliment and he was pleased to see something approaching a slight blush before she focused back on her half-eaten lana fruit. They ate the next few bites in silence before she spoke again.

    ¡°I was not always so, you know. So¡­ serious. But since Milandris came there has been no time for¡­¡± she trailed off then looked up at him. ¡°For laughing, I suppose. But when I was younger, I was quite the little hellion.¡±

    Some memory surfaced and she got a distant look on her face.

    ¡°My mother was constantly after me for skipping my lessons to go off sword fighting with the older initiates. I was always sneaking out of my room at night to explore the palace grounds or make my way into places I was not supposed to go.¡±

    Mitchell remained silent, not wanting to break the spell.

    ¡°In my eleventh high sun, I even managed to sneak into a council meeting with the last monarch, Baylor, the Elder Lady of Iletish, the Islivarian High Priest, and all of Baylor¡¯s barons and baronesses. It was a trade talk, but it was supposed to be private.¡±

    Mitchell had no idea the significance of that but she seemed to think it important so he made the appropriate sounds of being impressed.

    ¡°They caught me, of course, and my father was livid. The Elder Lady of Iletish came to my rescue, however.¡±

    She smiled suddenly and glanced at him.

    ¡°That is where I got this,¡± she said and held up her wrist upon which dangled a delicate silver-gold bracelet.

    It was made of several small woven strands of metal and those in turn were woven into larger strands, the end result being a simple braid made of smaller braids, which were made of still smaller ones.

    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± Mitchell said, honestly.

    ¡°It is electrum,¡± Allora said as if he should know the importance. ¡°She took it from her own wrist and placed it on mine. She told my father that anyone who could sneak past the guards should be rewarded, not punished. That he should punish the security instead.¡±

    ¡°Did he punish you?¡±

    Allora chuckled slightly. ¡°A week washing pots in the barracks kitchens. But it was worth it. The guards were given six months of northern border duty. I did feel bad about that. A little.¡±

    She had a sly smile on her face with just a hint of guilt.

    ¡°A few years later,¡± Allora continued, ¡°When the Elder Lady returned on a diplomatic mission, I was old enough to be put on a guard rotation. It was not dangerous, just standing guard in the hallway of her suites in the palace, but still an honor. The Elder Lady remembered me and we would often sit and have tea in the evenings. She was kind. Sharp as a black-steel blade, and very wise. I think she had a mind to bond me off to one of her grandsons but she passed a short time after.¡±

    A cloud came over her features then.

    ¡°After Milandris, those sorts of simple pleasures seemed frivolous. I had to focus all of my energy on surviving and then finding the next monarch. Finding you.¡±

    She gave him a sad smile and it took all Mitchell¡¯s self-control not to pull her into his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay. Would she have accepted his embrace? Would she have hugged him back?

    Allora shifted her attention then to the shaving implements he had set down on the table and just like that, the moment passed.

    ¡°Are you going to shave your beard?¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes,¡± Mitchell confessed, a little startled by the sudden shift in topics. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if I know how. Most people don¡¯t use that style of blade where I¡¯m from.¡±

    Mitchell picked up the straight razor and held it experimentally in his hand.

    ¡°I¡¯m worried I¡¯ll cut my throat and all your hard work will be wasted.¡±

    ¡°I can help you if you like. I used to shave my father.¡±

    ¡°That would be great,¡± Mitchell told her.

    Allora led him over to a small alcove off to the side of the bathing pool and Mitchell found it contained a washbasin and faucet, as well as towels, combs, brushes, and a few things he didn¡¯t recognize that didn¡¯t look like they were meant for people with fleshy skin.

    She directed him to a chair and he found it leaned back not unlike a barber chair back home that he had seen in old movies when guys went for a shave at the local barber shop. He had heard there were places that still did that but he had never visited one.

    Allora had him sit back as she ran hot water into the basin. She laid a towel around his neck and proceeded to use the scissors to shave off his scraggly facial growth. Things became quiet and Mitchell watched her. He studied every line of her face, tried to memorize the darker flecks of violet in her irises, and catalog every swirl and line in her long, delicate ears. She caught him staring and he saw her mouth begin to curl ever so slightly at the edges but she would catch herself and force the smile away. It almost seemed like she was afraid to let herself enjoy the moment. It didn¡¯t make sense to him, but she was a mysterious and complicated woman.

    With his beard as close to the skin as she could get it with the scissors, she soaked a towel in the steaming water and wrapped it around his face. It burned for a moment but then he got used to it and couldn¡¯t stifle a groan at the sensation of the heat leaching all the tension out of his face. While he luxuriated in the steam, she prepared the shaving cream and then began the slow, steady work of shaving him.

    To her credit, her hands never wavered or shook. Her strokes were confident and efficient and she didn¡¯t nick him even once. For his part, once he got over the nervousness of having a razor at his throat, he found the experience rather nice. She didn¡¯t speak and he didn¡¯t want his neck moving around, so neither did he. The silence was pleasant rather than uncomfortable. They had been through a lot together and, even though they hadn¡¯t talked much beyond their mission, he felt closer to her than maybe anyone in his life. She would die for him, Mitchell knew. In that moment, he also knew that he would do the same for her. Even if she never said she loved him, never had any sort of feelings about him at all beyond the mission, he would die for her.

    As she toweled off a little of the remaining shaving cream near his ear, Mitchell reached up and gently grabbed her wrist. He didn¡¯t pull at it and she didn¡¯t pull away. He held it firmly but not tightly and their eyes found one another. He looked up at her for a long time and her gaze never wavered as she looked down at him. He tried to push his thoughts into her head, to communicate all the things he felt for her and to will her to understand but if magic existed for that, he didn¡¯t yet know how to do it. There was no shy smile this time, no little quip or joke, only a long gaze into each other¡¯s souls. With a final squeeze, he released her wrist and she nodded as if there was a new understanding between them. Maybe there was.

    ¡°If you would like to join me in my room in an hour,¡± Allora said as she prepared to leave, ¡°I believe a tailor will come to measure us for some proper attire to complete our journey to the mountains.¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Mitchell replied.

    He rubbed his hand over his face and it was as smooth as a baby¡¯s ass. ¡°And Allora?¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the shave.¡±

    She gave him a tight but genuine smile and bowed her head slightly.

    ¡°It was my pleasure. I have not had a chance to do that in many years. It brought back fond memories of my father.¡±

    ¡°I wish I could have met him,¡± Mitchell told her honestly. ¡°I am sure he was a fine man. Or, uh, elf. I guess.¡±

    Allora chuckled.

    ¡°Yes, he was. I think he would have liked you.¡±

    The elvish warrior turned to the main suite door this time rather than the one that led to Lethelin¡¯s room but she suddenly stopped and turned around.

    ¡°Mitchell,¡± she said with a hint of hesitancy in her voice. ¡°If you would like, you may call me Lora.¡±

    Mitchell was somewhat taken aback. She was always so formal around him that he almost couldn¡¯t imagine her having a kind of nickname. But when he thought about it, he had heard Revos call her that from time to time.

    ¡°If you would like, sure, I can do that. Lora.¡±

    Mitchell tried out the name and decided he liked it.

    ¡°Yes,¡± she said with a smile in her voice. ¡°I think that would be nice. It is what my friends used to call me. I will see you in an hour.¡±

    She thumbed the gemstone next to the door and took her leave.

    ¡°Lora,¡± Mitchell said, almost as if he had to practice it to get it right. Then he started grinning.

    ***

    Lethelin sat and poked at the remaining food on her dinner plate and sulked. The ugliest whore?!? How dare that beautiful long-legged stiff-backed fish-gut-loving spawn of a river slug tell her that she wasn¡¯t good enough to bed Mitchell! Lethelin had killed men for worse insults than that! Well, no, that wasn¡¯t true. But she could have! Besides, Mitchell certainly hadn¡¯t seemed to mind.

    Just what was wrong with her wanting to get paid, anyway? She was providing a service, after all. She would steal what they told her to steal, and stab who they told her to stab. Wasn¡¯t that worth some coin? Shouldn¡¯t she be compensated for her hard work? If they were caught, she would be just as dead as them. He was going to be the monarch, after all. He could afford it! She ought to march over to¨C

    A chime sounded throughout the room which shocked Lethelin out of her plans for glorious retribution. She looked at the door to Allora¡¯s room first, ashamed at the spike of anxiety that shot through her insides. But no, it wasn¡¯t that one. Looking with a nearly equal amount of anxiety toward Mitchell¡¯s door, she saw that it wasn¡¯t his either.

    Through the process of elimination, she isolated the sound to the main suite door and got up in a huff to go answer it. Upon opening it, she was a little taken aback to see Revos¡¯s towering coppery-red form standing before her.

    ¡°Good evening, my little assassin,¡± he said with his deep baritone voice.

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    She was too annoyed to notice the honey coating his words.

    ¡°Now that our clothing has been sorted out, it seems we have the rest of the evening to ourselves. I thought you might like to join me in some refreshments.¡±

    He held up a bottle of wine and, when she saw the variety, it was enough to snap her out of her sulking.

    ¡°Where did you get a bottle of Iletishian Sapphire Blue?¡± she asked, unable to keep the note of awe out of her voice. ¡°That is only for the royal family!¡±

    The large cambion shrugged as if it was inconsequential.

    ¡°Things like this have a way of falling into my hands. But if you would like to invite me in, I¡¯d be happy to share it with you.¡±

    Lethelin reevaluated the situation and fully took in his appearance. His normal robes were gone, replaced by a loin cloth that looked unusually tight around the bulge between his legs, and he was wearing a black leather vest that was open, revealing the chiseled muscles of his chest and abdomen. His skin glistened and she realized he had oiled it. His horns were equally polished.

    ¡°Revos¡­¡± Lethelin began slowly. ¡°Is this your attempt to seduce me?¡±

    He gave her a devilish little smile.

    ¡°I do appreciate your directness,¡± he said. ¡°Yes, it is, my flame-haired temptress. Have you ever been with one of my kind? I promise you, it is an unforgettable experience.¡±

    He arched one of his eyebrows at her as his pointed tongue glided over black lips. He gave what she was sure was supposed to be a sexy look.

    ¡°Ugh!¡± she groaned. After everything else that had happened to her today, this was the last thing she needed. ¡°Look, no offense or anything, but I don¡¯t bed anything with horns. Sleep well.¡±

    Revos blinked in surprise and began to speak.

    ¡°But¨C¡±

    She slammed the door in his face.

 Chapter 24

    Mitchell flexed his hand as they stepped out of the Dragon Academy into the desert sunlight. The palatial building reminded Mitchell of an old English manor except it was constructed mostly out of the pale stone which was common in Iletish. Revos said it was sponsored by the Iletishian royal family and that anyone could apply for admittance. If a family was too poor to pay the fees then the student had to agree to a term of service upon graduation to repay the debt. While walking the grounds he saw many young people from multiple races and walks of life and it was very hard not to make comparisons to another magical school from popular Earth literature.

    The sevith he¡¯d been fitted with was made of supple black leather that seemed to hug the skin around his palm without squeezing too tight. It had four finger holes and a thumb hole and a web of straps across his palm with an opening in the middle. Revos had told him that this slot was for empowering large rune circles for more powerful and advanced magic and was well beyond his capabilities for now. Instead, he was told to focus on the six gemstones fitted snugly into holes on the back of his hand.

    Mitchell could draw upon mana from the six mortal schools of magic: conjuration, abjuration, evocation, enchantment, illusion, and divination. Each of the sevith¡¯s stones was meant to channel a specific mana type. Revos said it didn¡¯t matter which stone went where since the mana would flow to the right one without any effort on his part, but that it was best to always use the same slot for the same type of gemstone. It was easier to swap out old for new in a hurry if he didn¡¯t have to think about which one was which.

    Woven around the leather straps that hugged each gemstone were hair-thin wires of electrum. Revos had said that there was always bleed through of mana types when casting. Some illusion mana might mix in with evocation mana, or enchantment would bleed into abjuration. It wasn¡¯t usually enough to damage a spell but it would diminish its power, if only a little. For most casters, this bleed through was unimportant. But for high-level spells or combat casters, that extra two or three percent might be the difference between life and death.

    The electrum, which was best for channeling mana as it offered the highest fidelity, would transfer the unwanted magical energy into the appropriate gemstone for that type so it would not be wasted and might be used later. How long it would remain in the gem depended largely on the quality of the stone and how much it had been used already.

    The gemstones pressed into his hand but not uncomfortably so. Each one, about the size of his thumbnail, was polished smooth so as not to have any sharp edges which might irritate his skin. He was told to expect some blistering early on but that it would heal soon enough and the skin would toughen up. Revos showed him the back of his own hand which did have seven slightly rougher patches where his sevith stones had rested for decades.

    ¡°After a while, you won¡¯t even feel them anymore,¡± the big creature had said. ¡°And swapping out stones will become as natural as breathing.¡±

    To carry his gemstones, Mitchell was given a specially tailored belt pouch. He was told that this was a style favored by battle casters for the speed that stones could be retrieved and replaced. The pouch¨Ccalled an ikas¨Cwas made of the same supple black leather and tied firmly around his waist. It had six columns arranged in parallel and each one could hold six to ten gemstones depending on their size. All he had to do was press his fingers to the top of one of the columns and a stone would be pushed out almost instantly. He fed new stones in through the bottom. Like the sevith, it didn¡¯t matter what stones went into which column, but it was best to keep it consistent so as not to have to think about it during combat. Fumble too long, or grab the wrong gemstone needed for the spell, and you would be dead. He was informed that drilling with the stones, both their retrieval and slotting, would become part of his practice routine.

    Currently, the ikas was filled with six stones each and he had one of each type slotted into his sevith. Watching how the stones glinted in the sun he was reminded of the Infinity Gauntlet from the Marvel movies. This was not nearly so grandiose as that had been, though, and would not give him the power of a god. Still, he couldn¡¯t help but snap a few times and grin like an idiot. Revos had just arched an eyebrow at him and gave a long-suffering expression and Mitchell didn¡¯t bother trying to explain.

    Besides, Revos had been in a sour mood all morning. When Mitchell had inquired about it as they¡¯d left the Maiden¡¯s Mist at dawn, the cambion had sworn in his native tongue and Mitchell¡¯s vision had gone blurry for a moment and he thought he would puke up his breakfast. As he¡¯d staggered into a fountain they were walking past Revos had apologized and offered a hand to steady him but the big creature would explain no further.

    Now that he finally had the equipment he needed to start learning to cast his spells, Mitchell was in such a good mood that he didn¡¯t care if Revos looked like he was trying to pass a pinecone out of his ass the wrong way. He, Mitchell Allan, was going to learn magic. Real, actual magic. He pictured his younger self pouring over his dad¡¯s old fantasy novels as a kid and began miming casting powerful spells by throwing his hands out in over-dramatic fashion while vocalizing magical sound

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    However, Revos put a stop to his theatrics almost immediately.

    ¡°That¡¯s a good way to get killed,¡± he cautioned.

    After he thought about it for a moment, he realized how stupid he¡¯d been. He supposed that here it was no different than walking down a street on Earth with a loaded gun and pointing it at people. He apologized and they continued on toward their rendezvous with Allora at the western gate.

    ¡°This stuff must be expensive. I didn¡¯t think we had that much coin.¡±

    Revos didn¡¯t answer right away and Mitchell assumed he wasn¡¯t going to, but he finally spoke.

    ¡°It did not come from the coin we looted from Ivaran and his men. I purchased it with my own funds.¡±

    Mitchell was a little stunned at that. He didn¡¯t know much about Revos but had learned enough to know that he was unusually stingy and selfish. He always did the least amount of work in the camp, ate the most food, and took the most rest. His sharing what was surely a decent amount of money was out of character. Mitchell never would have thought the demon generous.

    ¡°It is a tradition in some schools for a teacher to provide a student¡¯s first krisa or sevith as a gift. A reward for their effort and a sign of their faith in the student¡¯s potential. I chose to honor that tradition.¡±

    Mitchell wondered at the strange emphasis Revos placed on the word ¡®chose¡¯ but decided not to question it.

    ¡°Is this considered a good one?¡± Mitchell asked tentatively.

    Revos looked down at him as they walked.

    ¡°It is the best this city has to offer. The leather is drake skin. A kind of lesser dragon. If you care for it then it should last you decades. The webbing around each stone won¡¯t fray or rip easily as with something like leather made from jivi hide. Also it¡¯s more flexible and breathes better than one made from the tough skin of a lizard, like a clorvol.¡±

    Mitchell didn¡¯t know what to say. All he could muster was a thank you.

    ¡°Consider it not just a gift but an¡­ apology,¡± Revos said the word like it tasted sour in his mouth, ¡°for almost getting you killed.¡±

    ¡°I appreciate that,¡± Mitchell told him, and he meant it. ¡°I will work hard to use it properly.¡±

    Revos merely grunted and they walked through the next few intersections in silence as the city came awake around them.

    ¡°What does it mean when a cambion has gold on its horns?¡± he asked suddenly, a memory sparking from yesterday.

    Revos started out of whatever he was contemplating as they walked.

    ¡°What?¡± His voice was like a whip crack.

    A little shocked at his reaction, Mitchell explained, ¡°Yesterday when I entered the city with Lethelin I saw another cambion. I think it was a female of your kind, and she had the tips of her horns coated in gold. I just wondered what it meant.¡±

    Revos¡¯s golden snake eyes went wide and his head began to turn about like it was on a swivel. Not seeing what he feared, he turned back to Mitchell.

    ¡°This woman, was she alone?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Mitchell answered, confused. ¡°There was another one with her. I got the impression he was like a bodyguard. He was even bigger than you and had two black-bladed swords strapped to his back.¡±

    ¡°What color was she?¡± Revos demanded with what sounded like panic in his voice. ¡°Her skin, what color?¡±

    ¡°Um¡­ A kind of blue, I guess? She was actually kind of hot, which I never thought I would say about a dem¨C¡±

    Mitchell¡¯s voice was cut off as Revos grabbed his upper arm and began to power walk down the street. He had several inches on Mitchell and a longer stride. Mitchell was almost jogging to keep up.

    ¡°We need to get out of the city. Now!¡±

    ¡°What? Why?¡±

    ¡°No time to explain!¡±

    Mitchell grew tired of being dragged like a naughty toddler almost immediately.

    ¡°Let¡­ go!¡± he demanded, yanking his arm free. ¡°I don¡¯t need to be dragged.¡±

    ¡°Then keep up,¡± Revos snapped back.

    The next fifteen or twenty minutes were spent with Mitchell trying to keep pace with Revos without actually breaking into a run. For his part, Revos barely paid him any mind and approached each intersection cautiously, sometimes even sending Mitchell forward to scout. The cambion refused any calls to explain. Finally, the western gate came into view and they were out of the city proper and into the open-air market that mirrored the one at the eastern gate almost exactly. The Diran Road cut a straight path into the distance as far as he could see.

    ¡°Lora said she would meet us at the edge of the market,¡± Revos barked. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡±

    The foot traffic was a little less orderly out in the markets than inside the walls and both of them almost ran into carts and shoppers multiple times but eventually made it through. Mitchell was panting by the time they finally found Allora and Lethelin with their clorvol sitting off to the side of the road away from the other travelers.

    ¡°Mount up! We need to go. Right now!¡± Revos said.

    If Mitchell didn¡¯t know better, he¡¯d think the terrifying creature was panicking. Allora picked up on it immediately and stood up on the wagon bed to scan behind them. Her hand went to her sword which had a covering wrapped around the pommel to hide the stone which would mark it as an Onyx Knight¡¯s blade.

    ¡°What is it?¡± she said, her voice tinged with anxiety.

    ¡°Not Milandris, I¡¯ll tell you later¡­ after we¡¯re moving,¡± Revos said, almost flying up into the driver¡¯s seat.

    Before Mitchell had even found his seat in the back of the wagon, it lurched forward as Revos snapped the reigns hard enough to draw an angry grunt from the clorvol and it rocked the wagon in annoyance before settling into what amounted to its quick pace.

    Several long minutes passed with everyone on edge and expecting an attack from every direction before Revos finally seemed to accept that they were safe from whatever danger he was running from.

    ¡°Please explain why we had to flee the city like bandits,¡± Allora said, her patience finally gone.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t about you or the kingling,¡± Revos said. ¡°It was¡­ my cousin.¡±

 Chapter 25

    ¡°Is that important?¡± Lethelin asked, looking more bemused than worried now.

    ¡°She is searching for me. If she finds me, she will take me back to Kazig.¡±

    Mitchell looked to Allora who understood the question on his face.

    ¡°Kazig is to the north of Iletish and northeast of Awenor.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s one of the few places the people of the other seven kingdoms won¡¯t fight over,¡± Revos said, his voice carrying hints of an old grievance.

    ¡°It is very cold most of the time,¡± Allora explained. ¡°But Cambions do not suffer much more in the cold than they do in the heat. When they first arrived on Tewadunn shortly after the fall of the dragon lords, it was uncontested.¡±

    ¡°My people were in no position to fight for better territory then and the continent was in chaos. So they settled where no one else really wanted to live and they reside there to this day,¡± Revos continued. ¡°And Deaj Reaal is still one of the most magnificent cities on the continent.¡±

    There was an unexpected note of pride in the cambion¡¯s voice when he talked about what Mitchell assumed was the capital city.

    ¡°Soooo, why don¡¯t you want to go back?¡± Mitchell asked.

    ¡°I was exiled,¡± Revos said after a long pause. ¡°Forty-seven years ago.¡±

    ¡°So your cousin wants to take you back. Isn¡¯t that a good thing?¡± Lethelin pressed. ¡°Don¡¯t you want to go home?¡±

    Revos didn¡¯t answer her and they rode on in silence for a while.

    ¡°I never found out what the gold on the horns meant,¡± Mitchell said to no one in particular.

    ¡°It marks one of the royal family,¡± Allora said.

    Mitchell thought over the conversation in light of this new information. If the woman with the golden horns was in the royal family, then¡­

    ¡°Are you nobility, Revos?¡± Mitchell asked.

    ¡°Unfortunately,¡± he growled. ¡°The woman you saw is named Savarik. Her father, Ekmir, sat at the head of the Hellfire Council. You could think of it like a king but that is a mortal term and doesn¡¯t quite capture the position in our society, though it¡¯s close enough.¡±

    ¡°And he¡¯s the one who exiled you, I assume?¡± Allora asked.

    ¡°Yes. The sulfur-breathed old bastard finally died three years ago and, since then, they have been calling me back. I guess they got tired of me ignoring their messages.¡±

    ¡°Why were you exiled?¡± Lethelin asked.

    The silence stretched so long that Mitchell was sure Revos had decided to stop talking. Finally he said, ¡°I slept with Ekmir¡¯s favorite wife. Savarik¡¯s mother, as it happens.¡±

    Mitchell, Allora, and Lethelin all looked at each other and almost as if on cue began to laugh in unison. Revos hunched his shoulders and acted like he didn¡¯t hear them.

    ***

    Allora said that they would reach the mountains in eight to ten days. She had acquired enough food and other supplies to see them all the way there. Once they arrived at whatever town awaited at the end of the road, they would sell the clorvol, which she said would fetch a better price there than in the wastes, and resupply for a trek across the mountains. That, she said, would take another week or two, assuming the weather was good.

    Mitchell asked what they would do if Milandris found Awen before then, but she didn¡¯t have any good answer. All they could do was keep going. Elementals were not helpless but a determined person would eventually discover the geode. It was best to act as if they didn¡¯t have time to waste.

    As far as Mitchell¡¯s magic instruction went, that was especially true. If he thought his training routine was rough before, he discovered that was just the warm up.

    Revos had picked up a book of spell runes from the Dragon Academy and Mitchell had a chance to see what he would need to memorize to use his new abilities. When Revos produced the book from his robes that first evening out of Besari, Allora had looked shocked and had given Revos a slight bow and touched her thumb to her forehead. Revos looked uncomfortable at the gesture for some reason but nothing else was said.

    The runic script was both beautiful and maddening. In order to cast a spell, he would need to form these shapes in his mind, will his mana into the shape, and then direct the shaped mana to his sevith to release the spell into the world. He could cast it without using the sevith but it was much more mana intensive to do so. Before that, however, he had to learn to feel the different types of each mana so that, when the time came, he could summon only what he wanted.

    This required long hours in the back of the wagon sending mana flows into his sevith trying to light up individual stones rather than all six at once. To Mitchell it felt like trying to tease out the notes of a musical chord and identify those making up the sound. Headaches and intense nausea were frequent and he puked more than once, heaving up whatever he¡¯d had for breakfast, lunch, or dinner when it happened. Every time he did though, Allora was there with a cool cloth wiping the sweat off his face as he tried to get control of his stomach. She had acquired some tea in the city, perhaps anticipating this very thing. It helped settle his stomach and ease the pain in his head, if only a little. Magical healing was no help for this type of sickness.

    Oddly enough, Lethelin was assisting much more than she normally did. If Mitchell hadn¡¯t been so dazed by the strain of his new tasks, he would have thought they were competing somehow to see who could best take care of him. But that was stupid, he decided.

    Mitchell supposed that the only good thing about his magical training was that if he pushed himself into near unconsciousness during the time in the back of the wagon, Allora didn¡¯t make him practice with the sword when they stopped. Usually, he collapsed into his bedroll before he¡¯d even had a chance to eat only to be coaxed awake by Lethelin or Allora who would spoon feed him whatever they¡¯d cooked for dinner. Then he would pass out again until they awoke him in the morning. By the second day, he was barely aware of having eaten at all.

    Time became a blur. Waking and sleeping began to blend together until Mitchell felt he was existing in some sort of murky netherworld. He found that thinking of the mana types as colors helped to sort them out and he started imagining his energy like a multi-hued river of light flowing through his body with all the hues coming together in a harmony of technicolor brilliance. But extracting one from the rest still eluded him and after a while the colors all faded to white.

    Once that happened, he would try to recenter himself and start again. No matter what he did though, he couldn¡¯t separate the colors any more than he could pluck them from a rainbow. But he kept at it. The hours stretched into days. He barely ate anymore because he would just sick it up a little while later, and he awoke each morning feeling like he¡¯d hardly slept at all. Slowly, Mitchell felt himself fading from the world completely.

    On the fourth night, he thought he dreamed of Allora, Lethelin, and Revos talking about him.

    ¡°You¡¯re killing him!¡± he heard Lethelin hiss. He wasn¡¯t sure if she was talking to Revos or Allora. ¡°He won¡¯t be any good to us if you melt his brain!¡±

    ¡°We do not have a choice,¡± Allora said, sounding guilty. ¡°There is no time.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know anything about magic but I know what you¡¯re doing isn¡¯t right! Let him take a break. All he does is sit in the back of the wagon and stare at his sevith. His eyes barely open anymore and he¡¯s puking up anything he eats. He looks like a cloud addict!¡±

    ¡°If he can¡¯t dissect the mana flows, he can¡¯t cast the spells. Once he learns it will be easier,¡± Revos said.

    ¡°And if he can¡¯t talk? What good will he be then? I asked him this morning if he thought he was any closer and he stared at me so long, I don¡¯t think he even saw me. His eyes were out of focus and he was mumbling something to himself in his own language!¡±

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    ¡°He¡¯s getting closer,¡± was all Revos said.

    ¡°How do you know?¡± demanded Lethelin.

    ¡°Because if he takes much longer the strain on his body will kill him,¡± Revos replied flatly.

    ¡°How long do students usually need to separate these mana flow things?¡± Lethelin demanded.

    There was a long silence followed by Allora¡¯s voice.

    ¡°Practicing an hour or two a day, a quick student can do it in a month or two. Slower students usually need three to four months.¡±

    ¡°An hour or two a day?¡± Lethelin asked incredulously. ¡°He is practicing six to seven hours a day and throwing up the rest of the time! If he doesn¡¯t make it¡­¡± Lethelin¡¯s voice trailed off.

    ¡°What is the matter, thief?¡± Allora snapped. ¡°Are you afraid you will not get your payment?¡±

    Even in his semi-conscious half-dreaming state Mitchell could hear the disgust in Allora¡¯s voice.

    ¡°It¡¯s not about that!¡± she replied.

    ¡°Then what?¡±

    ¡°I care¨C¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± Revos¡¯s voice cracked out like a whispering lash, cutting off whatever Lethelin was about to say. ¡°You¡¯ll wake him up and he needs to rest. He¡¯ll have it soon. Once he can separate the flows it will be easier. I promise, Lethelin.¡±

    Mitchell heard the sound of small feet stomping off and he finally fell into a dreamless sleep.

    ***

    Mitchell was lost in the mana flows. They had become his whole world. He had gotten to where he could feel the mana filling his reservoir even as he pulled it out to try and separate the flows. He could pull it out faster than it could fill up but he couldn¡¯t get a good sense of time passing when he was this deep into meditation so he didn¡¯t know how long it was taking to refill.

    His consciousness was adrift in the sea of swirling colors. This far into flows, the vibrations were so strong he thought they would shake him apart, but rather than trying to stay on the surface, he immersed himself in it. Usually, Mitchell just let himself float in the stream, thinking that if he simply existed in the swirls of power he would find what he needed to peel the individual colors off from the main flow. The color theory wasn¡¯t working when it came to separating the flows, but it had been the easiest way to visualize the different types of mana so he hadn¡¯t abandoned the idea. He did switch tactics, though.

    Today he imagined himself swimming in the river of multi-colored light instead of just floating in it. He couldn¡¯t think of why it would help but at least it was a new tactic. Mitchell was so caught up in it that it took him a while to feel that something was different. Did it take a minute? A day? Mitchell had no idea. But as his consciousness moved through the stream, he felt a different vibration at different parts of the flow. He paused to consider this. Instead of swimming at random he began to move through this mental dimension with purpose.

    He slid first to the left and noted where he felt the vibration shift in frequency. He slid further left until the new vibration was all he could feel. Then, he moved back until he felt the original.

    ¡°This was something,¡± Mitchell thought to himself.

    He tried it again, only this time he moved to the right. And sure enough, there was a different vibrational frequency there, too. Something Revos had said weeks before came to Mitchell¡¯s mind. He had asked why a magic user couldn¡¯t heal themselves. Revos had said it had to do with vibrational frequencies. Plural. Not frequency, but frequencies. And there were most definitely different frequencies of vibrations inside the mana flow but Mitchell had been so caught up in viewing his mana as a flowing rainbow that he had not thought to examine each one individually. To see each one as a separate thing. Is that what he had to do? Maybe thinking of it as a rainbow had limited him somehow. Maybe instead of a rainbow they were really like strings of a guitar.

    The more he thought about it, the more it seemed to make sense. He had access to six types of mana and a guitar had six strings. And while they were all bound to the guitar, they never actually touched each other. The strings, when played properly, all worked together in harmony, yet they were all very distinct notes. E-A-D-G-B-E. They all had their own frequency. He then recalled his first impression that finding the individual colors had been like teasing out the individual notes of a musical chord. For some reason, though, he¡¯d become enamored with the color idea and hadn¡¯t thought about the musical analogy again. But as he began to get a feel for the different frequencies at play, he knew that he was right.

    Mitchell began move back and forth, mapping each of the six different frequencies he found and began to try and get a feeling for each one individually. Some were almost violent in how they felt while others were calmer. Once he thought he had a good idea of where the different mana types bordered each other, he began to see if he could summon only the ones he wanted. He recalled the resonance of each one in his mind and tried to pull it to himself. Then he imagined plucking each one like a guitar string. It was music to his ears.

    ***

    Allora sat in the back of the wagon, facing Mitchell and watching him closely. Lethelin was up front with Revos and, while before there had always been some friendly banter between them, Revos seemed angry with her for some reason.  Revos had been angry a lot since they left Besari six days ago, though. He barely spoke to either of them at all unless the conversation was about Mitchell. Lethelin also seemed disinclined to speak with him but Allora didn¡¯t know if that was her responding to his foul mood or if something had gone on that she didn¡¯t know about. She couldn¡¯t spare any attention for his tantrums, though. She had enough to deal with without trying to assuage the cambion¡¯s temper.

    Lethelin, for her part, was angry at the both of them. But more than that she seemed genuinely concerned for Mitchell¡¯s health, which admittedly was not good. With his hardly being able to keep food down, his cheeks had taken on a sunken appearance and his half-lidded eyes had dark circles underneath them. His body was slumped and they had been forced to place some sacks of provisions on either side of him, lest he fall over as the wagon rocked back and forth. He really did look like a cloud addict and Allora¡¯s guts twisted at the sight of him.

    Not for the first time, she begged Vish for aid in helping him find what he needed to find. It had taken her nearly three months to separate her flows and it had been grueling, exhausting work. She would have solved the problem much faster, she was sure, if she¡¯d been a better student but she was always slacking off with the magical portion of her training. Weapons training was simply more satisfying. They did not have two or three months, though. Once they crossed over the mountains they would be under threat from every direction. Mitchell had to be casting spells by then for his own safety. Even rudimentary first circle spells would aid him in a fight. So, Allora pushed him. She pushed him and he went.

    She could see the struggle and how much he wanted to quit. As she held him while his body heaved, he would look up at her and his face would go still for a moment. He would say something in his own language that she didn¡¯t understand, usually right before passing out, as if uttering those final words had taken his last remaining strength. Last night, she had anticipated it and quietly cast the language spell.

    ¡°Sorry. I¡¯ll try again tomorrow. You¡¯ll be proud of me. Just you watch.¡± he said, his lips cracked and his voice a raspy whisper. Then his eyes rolled back and he fell into the sleep of the dead. Allora doubted he even knew what he was saying but his words haunted her. Did he think she wasn¡¯t proud of him? That thought was like a blade slicing up her insides.

    Usually, Mitchell was so exhausted he would rouse in the same position as when he fell asleep. They would help him stand, he would go through the morning routine mechanically, barely speaking, take a few bites of food that she knew he would throw up later, and crawl into the back of the wagon to begin again. She had seen zombies with more life in them.

    Unfortunately, she could not help him, nor could Revos. Explaining it didn¡¯t work. A student had to find it themselves and come to understand it fully. Otherwise, they would never master the ability. All they could do was guide him to the flow of mana within himself and wait for him to discover a way. The realization was always different because each person brought their own understanding to it. One person trying to explain it to another was no better than trying to explain why one person found a scent enticing while another found it revolting. It was simply the nature of the process that a person had to form their own path to help them separate the mana types.

    ¡°Please, Lady Vish. Help him find the path,¡± she pleaded quietly.

    She watched his face closely, looking for a sign he would be sick again. For the first few days Mitchell wouldn¡¯t be sick until after he stopped, but occasionally he would become ill while still in his trance. It had been happening more and more as his body got weaker.

    She was watching his face so closely for signs that he was about to vomit that she didn¡¯t notice the blinking of his sevith. Startled, she looked down at where his left hand lay limply in his lap and saw that a glow was passing from one stone to the next at random. Or not at random! It was a sequence! Before, they would all fill with the light of mana at the same time as he directed the undissected flow into his sevith. But not now. He was controlling the flows! He had done it!

    ¡°Revos!¡± she exclaimed.

    The big creature whipped his head around and saw where Allora was looking. He watched as the light continued to move through the same sequence, holding on each stone for a three count before jumping to the next one. Lethelin peered over the back and her eyes went wide.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s swinging cock!¡± Revos exclaimed excitedly. ¡°The boy actually did it!¡±

    His black lips split into a wide grin with a lot of teeth then he suddenly remembered his audience and got control of himself.

    Allora got up to her knees and reached across to try and shake Mitchell from his trance. With one hand on his shoulder and another cupping the side of his face, she called his name gently.

    ¡°Mitchell? Mitchell, wake up. You did it!¡±

    It took a few shakes before his eyes blinked and started to clear. If she didn¡¯t know better, she would say he was drunk. A small amount of drool leaked from the corner of his mouth.

    ¡°I think,¡± he said, his voice weak and his eyes struggling to focus on her. ¡°I think I got it.¡±

    ¡°You did!¡± she said, fighting the urge to hug him. ¡°You separated the flows!¡±

    She hesitated, but only for a moment. ¡°I am so proud of you, Mitchell.¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t so hard,¡± Mitchell said. His words were slurred and his eyes were droopping but a weak smile formed on his. ¡°Wanna hear me play a song?¡±

    ¡°A song?¡± Allora asked, not comprehending.

    ¡°He¡¯s delirious,¡± Revos said.

    ¡°How about some Stairway to Heaven?¡± he asked her, the words all smashed together.

    She had no idea what he was talking about.

    ¡°No, Mitchell. You can stop now. You can rest,¡± Allora told him, trying to maneuver him into a lying position.

    His face scrunched up and he said, ¡°No Stairway? Denied!¡±

    ¡°Mitchell¨C¡± Allora began, trying to calm him down. Instead, he leaned forward and grabbed her by the arms.

    ¡°It¡¯s all¡­¡± His body shuddered and he struggled to keep his eyes open. ¡°It¡¯s all about the¡­ the¡­ vibra¨C vibration¨C tional freq¨C¡±

    And then he puked up his lunch all over Allora and passed out.

    All things considered, she supposed she deserved that.

 Chapter 26

    ¡°We will need to be careful as we enter the town,¡± Allora said as their destination, a small clump of buildings nestled tightly into the foot of the Skybreaker Peaks, grew slowly larger in the distance. They had diverted from the Diran Road two days prior for a route that had become progressively roughly the farther north they went. The idea was that one of the smaller, less frequented mining villages would have fewer people who would notice their passing.

    ¡°Ivaran was sending regular updates to his superiors during our journey,¡± Allora continued. ¡°They will have assumed by now that he is dead and that I am free. They will have sent another team over the mountains. Maybe more than one. There are likely to be eyes watching for us.¡±

    Mitchell grabbed reflexively at the sword belted to his waist that Allora had purchased back in Basari. He felt confident enough with its use at this point that he was pretty sure he wouldn¡¯t cut off his own foot, but still believed himself to be woefully unprepared to use it in an actual battle. Allora had told him that the average cutpurse or thug would have almost no formal training, relying more on the element of surprise or brute force to win a skirmish. She assured him he could handle such opponents even after barely a month of practice. As for any of the mercenaries that might be on their trail, they were a mixed bag. Some of the officers would be skilled, while the lower ranks would have only rudimentary knowledge of blade work. She used that bit of information to reinforce the necessity of his magical training as using them in combination would help shore up any weaknesses until he became more skilled with both.

    Revos and Allora had been right about his magical training. Once he learned how to separate the flows of his different mana types, it was a simple matter of recalling that vibration of the type required for the spell and directing it into the rune of the spell he wanted to cast. Mitchell likened it to learning to ride a bike: Until you first got the hang of balancing on two wheels you were a wobbly mess and it seemed impossible. But then it would click and you would be gliding along with no hands, perfectly at ease, and wondering why it took so long to figure it out. Now that he could feel the distinct harmonics of each type it was no effort at all to call the one he needed. It was so simple he felt like a moron for not getting it right away but Allora and Revos both told him that everyone struggled in the same way at first. That bit of knowledge helped to mollify him as he had begun casting his first spells.

    Revos had told him that he associated each of his mana types with a smell, which Mitchell could make no sense of. There had been no smell that he could detect with his hours of time spent immersed in his mana flow. Allora¡¯s had come to her in the form of sword movements. Each mana type she could access put her in mind of a particular style of parry, thrust, or block and that¡¯s how it made sense to her. This is why no one could help a magic user separate their flows. Everyone found their own unique method to call it forth.

    So far, he had learned the light cantrip--the easiest spell in the book--a simple healing spell good for superficial wounds, and an arcane missile spell that fired one, two, or three silver-white pulses of energy toward a target that might serve to stun or knock down an opponent. The range appeared to be about thirty or forty feet, depending on how long he had to focus on the target before firing. There were other spells in the book Revos had purchased for him but he¡¯d earmarked these as the most useful for him in the beginning and he drilled with them over and over again until his mana reserves were empty.

    Learning each new spell required careful study of the associated rune from the spell book. He spent hours tracing them with his finger in the air, onto the wood of the wagon, or into the sand when they stopped, attempting to cement the circular shape into his memory. Then, once he felt like he had it down, he had to recreate the rune in his mind, draw forth the required mana type, guide it into the shape, then direct the reformed mana to his sevith, where it would be released into the world.

    The first day of practice had been disappointing. More often than not the spell failed as he made mistakes with the runes. But over time, the design began to get firmer in his head. The spells failed less often. And, lest he think things were getting too easy, Revos and Allora started throwing in distractions once he had a good grasp of the spell form, forcing him to cast it under stress. Unlike the sword, he could practice this activity on the move so now he spent his travel hours in the back of the wagon drilling again and again and again.

    The excitement of using real magic wore off after the first day. It became a mind-numbing routine but at least it didn¡¯t make him vomit. There was a slight bit of nausea and lightheadedness when he exhausted his mana but it wasn¡¯t nearly as bad as when he was meditating to separate the flows, and went away after just a few moments.

    Still, he stayed focused, worked hard, and it yielded results. After three days he could cast each spell perfectly when he was sitting alone and unmolested in the wagon. The minor distractions were less of an issue most of the time. The more intense distractions, the ones involving pain, were almost always enough to disrupt the spell in his mind. Luckily, they were such low-level spells, the light spell and healing spell being only a cantrip and the arcane missile spell being what Allora and Revos called first-circle spells, that losing hold of the rune in his mind while it was charged didn¡¯t hurt him.

    He did get a mild zap from losing the arcane missile spell, a bit like a very low-grade electrical shock. Revos said that channeling the mana into a rune compressed and concentrated the energy. As such, losing the shape suddenly caused a greater-than-normal release of power to flood his system and that is what caused the feeling. A strong enough spell would cause intense pain, unconsciousness, and even death if the caster lost focus.

    ¡°Don¡¯t use a high-level spell when a lower-level one would do,¡± Revos had instructed. ¡°It wastes mana and puts unnecessary wear and tear on your gemstones. Don¡¯t try to overpower a lower-level spell as it will only fail and could mean the difference between life and death. Higher-level spells require more complex runes with more channels to properly handle the mana. You must master the lower forms before attempting the higher ones as they build upon each other. Do you understand?¡±

    The wagon continued on in the gloom of the afternoon, the pace of the clorvol just slightly faster than a man could comfortably walk. This close to the mountains darkness came on quickly as the sun set behind the towering peaks before them. They were truly magnificent and Mitchell found it hard to stop looking at them.

    The Skybreaker Peaks stretched north and south as far as he could see in either direction and their height was dizzying to behold. Mitchell had lived his whole life in Oregon and then in Phoenix where he went to school at ASU and then got his first job. There were mountains there but they were dwarfed by the nearly impossible size of the formations he now gazed upon. The pale gray stone of the granite speared the sky in sharp angles, many of the faces appearing near vertical from his vantage point. And they just seemed to keep building upon each other. The highest peaks were shrouded in mist thousands of feet up. He was told that they went even higher as one journeyed inward but that there were indeed paths and passages through, albeit dangerous ones.

    ¡°Not many people traverse the Peaks for trade,¡± Revos had told him when they first came into view. ¡°But there are ancient ruins still undiscovered, and rumors of riches left behind by the dragon lords, so treasure hunters make frequent trips up and down. Sometimes they find something of value but many never return. What happens to them is anyone¡¯s guess.¡±

    ¡°As dangerous as it is, this is still safer than taking the Southern Road into Awenor,¡± Allora had said. ¡°There are frequent patrols and checkpoints once you cross the border and we would not be able to avoid detection. But there are many paths over the mountains and it would be impossible to watch them all.¡±

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    Mitchell glanced over at where Lethelin sat near the lip of the wagon. She stared blankly at nothing, lost in her own thoughts, and more than once Mitchell had found it difficult to focus on her. Sometimes she seemed to almost phase out of existence. Then she would snap back into focus. Mitchell thought it must be some effect of the cloak that she still wore, although she had said that the enchantment was only active when the cowl was up, which it was not at the moment. She¡¯d been unusually quiet since Besari and when he¡¯d asked her about it, she¡¯d just shrugged. He had expected more warmth from her after their moment in the garden. In truth, he had expected to be spending the night with her that evening at the Maiden¡¯s Mist, but she¡¯d never come. He wanted to talk to her about it but now that she was being so cool towards him, he decided to leave it alone. Maybe he had offended her by not going to her? Some cultural taboo he had mistakenly committed? Mitchell had no idea. It went onto his ever-growing pile of things he had no fucking clue about.

    ¡°There will be taverns and inns here. At least two or three given the size,¡± Allora said, drawing his attention back to their impending arrival. ¡°We will find a stable, sell as much as we can, secure provisions for the trip, and leave first thing in the morning.¡±

    Allora glanced at him to make sure he understood and he nodded his agreement. She looked to Lethelin and Revos in turn and they all gave their assent.

    ¡°Once we secure lodging and supplies, we will not leave the inn until we set out in the morning. No exceptions.¡±

    The wagon rumbled on and the cool air coming down off the mountains blew over Mitchell¡¯s sun-tanned face, once again showing stubble. The wind carried with it the sharp tang of snow which excited him more than he expected. Growing up in the American northwest, winter meant the Christmas season ¨C a time of hot chocolate; of cinnamon and cider, of family, warm blankets, and fireplaces. It made him surprisingly homesick and he felt an ache in his chest. He hoped he made it out of this alive. In all likelihood, he would die and he was aware of that. But if he didn¡¯t, he hoped he could travel home and tell his parents he was okay. Maybe even invite them back to this world with him.

    Mitchell nurtured that hope as he glanced at Allora. She was watching the town with a hard look. Her long black hair was loose and the steady breeze moved it around in a way he found almost hypnotizing. Following her gaze, his eyes went back to the squat little town and once again began the long journey upward as he followed the lines of the Skybreaker peaks until they were lost in fog thousands of feet up. Seeing her tension had filled him with a similar feeling and he wondered if he would be forced to put his nascent sword and magic skills to the test in this one-jivi town.

    ¡°This should be interesting,¡± he mumbled to himself in English.

    ***

    It was almost full dark by the time they made it to the edge of the town. Mitchell commented on how there were no walls or defenses of any kind securing the as-yet nameless hamlet and, with a look of distaste on her road-dust covered face, Lethelin remarked that it was because there was nothing in this piss pot worth taking.

    All together it looked to be about thirty or forty buildings, roughly arranged down a central thoroughfare with a handful of small side streets and alleys. Some were stone but there were a handful of wooden ones as well. Mitchell had seen small copses of trees here and there as they neared the mountains so he guessed wood wasn¡¯t quite as precious a resource as it had been in the deep desert. Still, the stone buildings looked to be in better shape than the wooden ones, most of which looked rather flimsy and poorly constructed.

    The wagon rumbled past a faded sign with writing on it that Mitchell tried to sound out. He was only just beginning to learn the Common alphabet with the help of the handful of books that Allora had picked up while Revos had been getting him fitted with his sevith.

    ¡°De-li-kik?¡± Mitchell said aloud.

    There was a sharp sting on his right ear which caused him to flinch forward.

    ¡°Ow!¡±

    He turned to see Lethelin grinning her old grin at him, her green eyes flashing with a mischievous sparkle.

    ¡°Close,¡± she said.

    ¡°De-li-kir,¡± Allora explained, not bothering to hide her grin at his discomfort. ¡°Look at the accent above the letter krian. When it is at the end of a word it is pronounced like the rian sound.¡±

    Mitchell rubbed at his ear, trying to be annoyed at Lethelin but she¡¯d been in a funk for days and he liked seeing her a little more like her old self. Even if she was only grinning because she got to inflict pain upon him.

    ¡°Delikir,¡± Mitchell said and tried to cement the pronunciation rule in his head. ¡°What does it mean?¡±

    ¡°Drake¡¯s Rest in the old tongue,¡± Allora replied.

    ¡°Drake¡¯s shit bucket is more like it,¡± Lethelin mumbled half under her breath.

    Looking at the poor state of the houses on the outskirts, Mitchell found he didn¡¯t disagree.

    There were a few people milling about but most didn¡¯t pay them any mind. Some sat on porches peering at the traveling party with half-lidded eyes while others leaned out of windows having been drawn by the noise. Seeing the wagon, most went back inside to continue on with whatever they¡¯d been pulled away from.

    ¡°They don¡¯t seem to care that we¡¯re here,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°That seems like a good thing.¡±

    ¡°There are little towns like this all up and down the mountains,¡± Revos explained. ¡°Some are more prosperous than others. There is still good mining to be found but from the looks of this place, the mine dried up long ago. Most of the coin that comes through here is from prospectors and treasure hunters. They probably assume we¡¯re one of those.¡±

    ¡°Mitchell, try not to talk too much,¡± Allora cautioned. ¡°Your accent is still very odd and it will make you more memorable.¡±

    Mitchell nodded and continued to watch the people around him. Some were eying their little wagon more hungrily than he liked but none approached. There were a few more dwarves than he had seen in Basari, a mix of humans and a few elves, and some haflings. They were roughly the same size as gnomes but looked more human, like an adult shrunk down to the size of a ten-year old.

    Mitchell asked the question he¡¯d been wondering for weeks now.

    ¡°How is it that there are so many races of people here? Where do they all come from?¡±

    ¡°The dragon lords, mostly,¡± Allora explained. ¡°They brought in people from other worlds to populate their empires and work as slaves and servants.¡±

    ¡°So they just snatched people from other planets, other universes?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Allora nodded.

    ¡°Not my people,¡± Revos exclaimed, a note of pride in his voice. ¡°They knew better.¡±

    Mitchell saw Allora grin and almost roll her eyes. If Revos noticed, he didn¡¯t comment.

    ¡°You said something about that before,¡± Mitchell interjected. ¡°That your people came here after the fall of the dragon lords and settled in¡­ Where was it?

    ¡°Kazig,¡± Revos supplied.

    ¡°Yeah. Why did you come here?¡±

    ¡°Our home was destroyed. The powers at the time dabbled too deeply into darker magic and created a rift into a hell dimension that began to swallow our entire world. Some escaped. Most did not.¡±

    Revos paused and took in a big breath as he recalled the tale.

    ¡°The cinva of our land at the time, the king,¡± he said it in such a way that suggested he didn¡¯t like the word but it was the best descriptor he had in Common, ¡°was an arcanist, a powerful one. As our planet was being pulled into the hell dimension he created a series of portals to save those that he could. One of those portals opened here. About twenty thousand of us made it through before it collapsed.¡±

    ¡°It was good timing,¡± Allora added. ¡°The reign of the dragon lords had come to an end about fifteen years before and the land was still in upheaval as people fought for control. By the time any of the smaller powers had realized they had a new neighbor, Revos¡¯s people had already fortified their position in the mostly empty wastes of Kazig. There were some small engagements where the cambions proved themselves more than a match for the largely disorganized groups of soldiers in those early days and they were left alone.¡±

    ¡°My people are superb warriors!¡± Revos seconded. ¡°We crushed them and to this day none have dared to invade our borders.¡±

    Mitchell found it odd that for someone who apparently loved his home and his people so much he didn¡¯t want to go back. Before he could comment on it further, however, Revos pulled the reigns and the clorvol came to a stop with a snort.

    They were parked in front of a three-story building, the first floor of which was made of the pale desert stone and the upper two of wood. It looked to have been a hasty add-on at some point in the past and had not improved since then. He wondered what was holding it up.

    ¡°This is the inn?¡± he asked uncertainly.

    ¡°Likely the best they have to offer,¡± Revos told him, ¡°and the stable is big enough for the clorvol.¡±

    From the looks of the place Mitchell wasn¡¯t sure if sleeping on the ground wasn¡¯t preferable but he hopped off the wagon and followed Allora and Lethelin inside while Revos stayed to stand guard.

 Chapter 27

    Mitchell supposed he had been somewhat spoiled by The Maiden¡¯s Mist in Basari, but even taking that into consideration, this hovel they now found themselves in seemed an absurdly far way down to travel. For all he knew, there were more inns like this than bathhouses like the last one, but he hoped not. It smelled like sour sweat and rancid beer, for one. And a haze of smoke clung to the low ceiling almost like the inn had its own weather system. The floor was well-worn stone with a scant covering of old straw and there were seven or eight tables unevenly spaced around the room, some circular, some square or rectangle, and one an odd combination of both, as if someone had two broken halves and simply nailed them together.

    Most of the tables had customers, primarily human with a few dwarves mixed in. All of them looked ragged and weary. There was a middle-aged human woman that appeared to be employed there but wore an expression that said she¡¯d rather be anywhere else. As she approached them Mitchell noticed a stout looking club hooked to her waist with a handle worn smooth from use. She gave them a wary eye, looking to Allora first. Even in her simple but sturdy traveling garb, the elf had a way about her that people tended to notice. A nobility in her walk and an imperiousness in her gaze. Mitchell had watched it in their time on the road when they interacted with people at the way stops and he understood why Lethelin was always calling her ¡°m¡¯lady¡± and making digs at her regal demeanor. As far as he could tell, no one knew who Allora was but they knew she was someone.

    Mitchell didn¡¯t have enough experience to know if all elves were like that or not, but he found it hard to imagine a whole race of people that acted as she did. Guardsmen reacted in a similar way when they eyed her. He suspected they recognized the way she walked as someone who knew how to use the blade she carried and was perhaps just as deadly with her krisa. Mitchell had begun to recognize it himself after spending so much time sparring with her.

    The innkeeper had deep worry lines etched into a prematurely aged face and her black hair was going gray at the temples. Her nose didn¡¯t look right, as if it had been broken at some point in the past, but her ice blue eyes were sharp and quick. She looked long at Allora and Mitchell saw her eyes flick to her krisa and do a mental count of each stone, and then to the sword at her hip. She then gave a long look at Mitchell, also seeing his sevith and blade, and then at Lethelin. Mitchell had the feeling of being taken in and evaluated in an instant and he felt the need to tell the woman that they meant no harm. However, their hostess beat them to it.

    ¡°I non wanning trouble,¡± she said, her voice surprisingly feminine coming from such a square-jawed and almost mannish face. The accent was hard for him to make out though. He¡¯d gotten used to the subtle differences between the way Allora, Lethelin, and Revos all spoke, but this woman¡¯s accent was new.

    ¡°Nor do we, good lady. We seek only rooms for tonight, if it be Stollar¡¯s will. Four. And space in your stable for a clorvol. We have coin.¡±

    The woman¡¯s face soured at the mention of the clorvol and Mitchell knew that having the beast in close proximity would make dealing with any jivis more of a hassle. It had happened plenty of times on the road and they¡¯d been cursed at more than once.

    ¡°Stabling ta clorvol will being extra. If you non be liking it, then be going someplace else.¡±

    The stout woman crossed her arms over an ample bosom. Her dress, a blue and white affair that was cinched around a broad waist with a plain leather belt was simple but sturdy. It looked to have been washed countless times but was still in good repair.

    ¡°We will pay,¡± Allora reassured the tense innkeeper. ¡°It will be sold in the morning. Tonight, if my good lady can provide the name of someone with whom we can speak. We wish to provision for a trip to the mountains.¡±

    Seeing that they didn¡¯t intend to argue or haggle, the woman relaxed a little.

    ¡°I knowing someone who can being a help.¡±

    ¡°We would be most thankful.¡±

    The woman eyed them for another moment before she spoke again.

    ¡°Two fangs for ta four rooms and ta clorvol.¡±

    ¡°That is acceptable,¡± Allora said, although there was a tightness in her voice.

    ¡°Now wait a minute,¡± Lethelin spoke up. ¡°That¡¯s robbery! Two fangs for this place?¡±

    ¡°If you non liking it then there is being ta door,¡± the hard woman snapped at Lethelin and stuck her chin up as if daring Lethelin to argue.

    ¡°It is acceptable,¡± Allora repeated and gave Lethelin a hard look.

    Lethelin looked as if she wanted to argue but clamped her mouth shut instead. Perhaps so as not to admit total defeat, she mumbled ¡°It better come with a meal at least. And breakfast!¡±

    ¡°Ta kitchen will be serving yous.¡±

    Allora fetched two gold coins from her pouch and placed them into the woman¡¯s meaty palm, and she secreted them away somewhere before turning and calling out.

    ¡°Tarnen! See to ta clorvol!¡±

    From a shadowed corner near the bar, a young man, maybe sixteen or seventeen years old, stood up and Mitchell could hear him grumbling from across the room.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s hairy taint, why did they have to bring a clorvol?¡±

    As he walked out the door, the woman whacked him in the back of the head and it was strong enough to stagger the kid.

    ¡°Non being yer business. They paid now be doing yer job.¡±

    Tarnen regained his feet with a sulking expression but walked out the door without further comment.

    ¡°Me boy. Lazy as a merchant lord¡¯s third son, but he be knowing how to deal with ta clorvol. Non worries.¡±

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    ¡°And your name, good lady,¡± Allora asked, ¡°if it be Stollar¡¯s will.¡±

    ¡°Yarlest,¡± she said plainly. ¡°This is being my inn.¡±

    ¡°You are a long way from Islivaria, good lady Yarlest.¡±

    Yarlest cocked an eyebrow at her and seemed to reevaluate the elf.

    ¡°Me man. I did be following him here so he could be hunting ta mountains for treasure. But he did be dying ten high suns back and this inn being what¡¯s left.¡±

    ¡°May you return one day so that the Glass Sea can embrace you on your final sunrise.¡±

    This really seemed to take the innkeeper aback. Her mouth opened and closed as if she wasn¡¯t quite sure what to say.

    Finally, collecting herself, she said, ¡°Thank you, m¡¯lady.¡±

    She actually began to bow before Allora reached out a hand to stop her.

    ¡°Please do not. I am not a lady. I have just met a few people from Islivaria in my travels and I know how they speak of the Glass Sea. I have not seen it myself but if it is at all how your people say, it would be a worthy pilgrimage.¡±

    Yarlest actually blushed.

    ¡°It is, m--¡± she caught herself, about to utter the honorific again. ¡°It is. I dream of it still and I wake up crying as I did on my seventh name day.¡±

    ¡°If it be Stollar¡¯s will,¡± Allora said with a heavy note of compassion in her voice.

    ¡°If it be,¡± Yarlest said again. ¡°Thank yous.¡±

    Remembering her task, Yarlest led them through the common room of the inn where they were eyed by the customers but none bothered them. Going behind the bar she fetched four keys right as Revos entered carrying a few bags of their more important possessions. Yarlest started, as did several of the others in the room, but as before, no one commented.

    ¡°You be keeping interesting company, uh¡­ What should I be calling you, uh, miss?

    ¡°Chell, good lady. All my friends address me as such.¡±

    ¡°As you like, Chell,¡± Yarlest gave a slight nod of the head and much warmer smile than when they had entered. ¡°Once you are being settled in your rooms return to ta common area and I¡¯ll be having food ready for you and yer companions. You can be finding yer rooms on ta second floor. It is being up those steps.¡±

    Yarlest pointed off to the right where a set of stairs ascended to the second floor and the four of them headed in that direction.

    ¡°Chell?¡± Lethelin whispered once they had cleared the first floor.

    ¡°A friend when I was young,¡± Allora whispered back. ¡°We were in the same archery class. It should not need to be said that none of you should use your real names.¡±

    The rooms were serviceable, if not exactly comfortable. The bed consisted of a cot frame on which coarse hemp-like rope was strung to support the lumpy straw mattress. After looking at the number of bits of straw that were poking through the threadbare sheet that held it all together Mitchell thought it might be more comfortable to sleep on the floor.

    After dropping off his few meager belongings he joined the others downstairs for their dinner. It was simple fare, some sort of meaty stew with root vegetables that had the same curry-esque spice that the people of Iletish seemed to enjoy. Throughout the meal Revos was glowering into his food and barely spoke a word. He was also going heavy on the alcohol they served and, before the rest of them had finished, he stood abruptly, grabbed the wine bottle, mumbled about going to his room, and stomped up the stairs.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on with him?¡± Mitchell finally asked when they were alone. ¡°He¡¯s been acting weird since we left Basari.¡±

    A sour look passed over Allora¡¯s features.

    ¡°He and I had a disagreement over a few things in the city. It is nothing. It will pass.¡±

    ¡°You, too?¡± Lethelin said, directing her question at Allora. ¡°Did he try to talk his way into your bed, as well?¡±

    Allora looked slightly startled for a second and paused to consider her words.

    ¡°He invited me to share his bed, yes. He did the same to you?¡±

    ¡°Yep. Came ringing my door chime after we¡¯d met with the tailor.¡±

    Allora¡¯s eyes went between Lethelin and Mitchell and she had some emotion on her face that Mitchell couldn¡¯t identify.¡±

    ¡°And did you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not saying I have the highest standards in the world, but I don¡¯t do horns,¡± Lethelin scoffed and took another drink of the watery ale they served here. ¡°Or scales. Nothing with gills, either.¡±

    ¡°So¡­¡± Mitchell surmised. ¡°He¡¯s in a bad mood because he didn¡¯t get laid?¡±

    Lethelin chuckled but Allora remained silent. She looked pensive.

    ¡°I do not know. I¡¯ve never seen one of his moods last this long. I suspect something else is troubling him but I do not have the patience to coddle him.¡±

    Just then Yarlest came over to their table with a small scrap of paper for Allora.

    ¡°Here is being a directions to a dwarf who can be buying what yous wish to sell and selling what yous wish to buy. His name is being Nothok. I sent Tarnen over to tell him to be keeping his lanterns lit and to be expecting yous. He¡¯ll being fair.¡±

    Allora looked up at the stout innkeeper and gave a gracious nod.

    ¡°Thank you, Yarlest.¡±

    The woman nodded in what was not quite a bow, and went off to see to her other customers.

    ¡°Lethelin, would you like to come with us to meet the merchant? You are welcome to join us. And I know how you like to haggle.¡±

    The thief mopped up the last of her stew with the remaining piece of her crusty bread and wobbled her head.

    ¡°No,¡± Lethelin said slowly. ¡°No, I think I want to stay here. Have a drink or two more. Maybe turn in early. Big day tomorrow, right?¡±

    Allora almost seemed surprised by the good sense of Lethelin¡¯s decision.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Allora replied. ¡°I think that is a wise choice. We will not be long.¡±

    Meals finished, Mitchell got up from the table and followed Allora out the door into the cool night of this sleepy little mining town. After weeks in the blistering heat, Mitchell thought it actually felt cold, which was almost a novel experience at this point.

    ***

    Lethelin watched the two go and then very casually picked up her mug and retreated to a darkened corner of the inn where she could see the entire room unobstructed. She pulled a stool from an empty table, plopped it down, sat and went still.

    Allora was no fool but she hadn¡¯t spent time in places like this when she was younger. Not little miss fancy pants! She would have been eating with the lords and ladies in the palace when she was young. But Lethelin knew places like this and this one smelled off.

    The innkeeper was a good enough sort and Lethelin had no concerns about her, but it was the other patrons that tickled the back of Lethelin¡¯s senses.

    ¡°It¡¯s not always about what people do, but it¡¯s what they don¡¯t do as well. Don¡¯t just look for what¡¯s going on around you, but look also for what¡¯s not going on. Is anything different than you think it should be? Danger won¡¯t always come from the obvious place. Learn to see what people don¡¯t want to show you.¡±

    Her mentors voice came back to her from long ago. But he¡¯d been right. She had learned and those same instincts told her that something was off about this place. The people looked but they didn¡¯t stare. They averted their eyes a little too quickly. Lethelin had seen the quality of women this chum bucket of a town offered and, while she didn¡¯t like to flaunt her beauty, she knew she was worth some long looks. She had used that fact more than once to get her the things she wanted or to get into places she wasn¡¯t supposed to go. And she knew that she was more than these men had likely seen in a while. Then there was Allora. Miss Prissy Britches could stop a dragon in flight if she¡¯d wanted to. But the men didn¡¯t stare. No¡­ That wasn¡¯t right.

    So she went still and she waited. Over the years she¡¯d learned to tell when it happened. The shift was very subtle but she¡¯d learned to feel it. It was a slight change in the light and a difference in pressure on her skin. Colors were a little bit dimmer and the shadows a little bit darker. But she knew when her talent manifested and the people around her would no longer notice her. Thoughts of her would often leave the person¡¯s mind unless they were really determined. She was there, but she must have slipped out while they weren¡¯t looking, they would tell themselves.

    Lethelin¡¯s hand creeped under her cloak and found the hilt of her stiletto and she idly traced the ridges of the handle. She listened and she watched. Fortunately, she didn¡¯t have to wait very long.

 Chapter 28

    Allora glanced at the paper in the darkness and checked some of the buildings, and then indicated that they should take the left at the next intersection.

    ¡°You can read that?¡± Mitchell asked.

    She glanced at him briefly before returning her gaze to scan their surroundings.

    ¡°Elves usually have better senses than humans,¡± Allora answered quietly. ¡°We are generally stronger, too. I myself am as strong as an average human man, despite being a female. Most elfin males have even greater strength.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t seem very fair,¡± Mitchell remarked.

    ¡°Humans breed much faster so they usually have a numerical advantage. And magic seems to mix among the various races with equal measure ¨C with the exception of cambions like Revos, who have magic in their blood.¡±

    Mitchell changed the subject.

    ¡°So that ¡®Glass Sea¡¯ stuff you said to Yarlest. What was that about?¡±

    ¡°The Glass Sea is on the eastern coast of the continent. It is sacred to the people of Islivaria. Families bring their children to the shore to bathe in it and to be blessed on their seventh name day. It is said to be the resting place of an ancient and forgotten god.¡±

    ¡°Why do they call it the Glass Sea?¡±

    ¡°Because it has no waves. The surface of the waters are as flat and smooth as a perfect pane of glass.¡±

    ¡°That¡­ doesn¡¯t seem possible,¡± Mitchell said, astonished.

    ¡°Yet it is so. It is the dream of every Islivarian to be returned to the waters before the sun sets on the day they have died. It does not usually happen that way, but it is their hope. I only heard of it from delegates that visited the palace when I was young. I gave her a formal greeting that I heard the nobles use and she mistook me for a noble myself.¡±

    They walked through a few more small intersections before Allora found the sign she was looking for. The lantern outside the door was indeed still lit. Without preamble, Allora pushed the door open and they went inside.

    The shop smelled of leather, iron, and dirt. It was decently bright inside despite the late hour and Mitchell could see the shelves full of digging equipment and survival gear of all shapes and sizes. Some of it looked new, or newish, and the rest ran the gamut of slightly used to barely serviceable. Mitchell couldn¡¯t imagine why anyone would buy things in such bad condition but it wouldn¡¯t be on the shelves if the dwarf who owned the place didn¡¯t think someone would take it.

    At the sound of the door, a squat and grizzled old dwarf appeared from behind the counter and gave Mitchell and Allora a quick once over as they approached the counter. He was about five and a half feet tall and had the look of a block of granite that had been softened around the edges with clay with the skin tone to match. His face was broad and flat and his eyes were like glittering pieces of obsidian sunk deep into a worn and wrinkled face. Across his cheek from his ear to his upper lip was a line of four scars that looked to be decades old given the fading. His beard extended below the rim of the counter and it was filled with trinkets and gemstones that had been woven into the coarse hair. His shoulders and arms were broad and thickly muscled and he wore a plain tan shirt of some sort of thick canvas material and leather pants tucked into sturdy workman¡¯s boots.

    ¡°You would be the one Yarlest sent word about, aye?¡±

    ¡°I would be. My name is Chell and this is my companion Allanen. We wish to sell what goods we no longer need and buy provisions for a journey over the mountains.¡±

    ¡°You can call me Nothok, aye.¡± the gruff man said. He then paused and gave Allora a closer look. ¡°Have you made the passage before? Something about your face be a mite familiar.¡±

    He squinted his coal-black eyes and gave her another up and down.

    ¡°I have crossed the mountains before but it was further south last time,¡± Allora reassured him, trying to sound casual. ¡°We have not met before, master Nothok.¡±

    The dwarf grunted.

    ¡°Aye, maybe it is as you say. Me eyes are as tired as me bones.¡±

    From beneath the counter he pulled out a ledger, opened it before them and produced a quill and ink.

    ¡°Do you recall all that you be wishing to sell? I was led to believe that most of your goods are being stored at Yarlest¡¯s place but if you have a recounting, I can give you a rough estimate of the prices I can give ye, aye.¡±

    Over the next few minutes Allora gave him a list of the things they wished to offload, including the wagon and the clorvol. Nothok seemed particularly interested in the beast.

    ¡°How be its temperament? And be it a male or female?¡±

    ¡°Female, and as long as she is fed regularly, she pulls the wagon without complaint,¡± Allora reassured him. ¡°She is a most agreeable beast of burden.¡±

    ¡°Female you say? Aye, that¡¯s good. I can fetch a good price for her then, if she be as ye say.¡±

    ¡°Why is that?¡± Mitchell asked. He remembered he wasn¡¯t supposed to talk as soon as the words were out of his mouth but if the dwarf picked up on his very strange accent he didn¡¯t show any sign.

    ¡°Clorvols are popular with those that search the desert for lost ruins, or for those who wish to be moving things between the towns and cities out of sight of the Scorpion Guard. And one of good temper that doesn¡¯t try to eat those that be sitting on the wagon is even more valuable.¡±

    Nothok offered them a hundred talons for the clorvol, assuming it was as docile as Allora promised, and another fifteen for the wagon and they settled on an even ten for the last enchanted water barrel and the tent that warded off insects. Allora said they would need sturdier camping gear for the mountains. She requested the coin in Awenorian crowns, which seemed to annoy the shopkeeper somewhat, as he said he didn¡¯t like doing the calculations and the exchange rate was likely out of date, but Allora allowed him to take two talons off the price for his trouble.

    The next twenty minutes or so was spent going over the gear they would purchase and the supplies. He offered an even exchange for the water barrel for a small sack that he said contained an extra dimensional storage space that would hold enough food for a party of five for up to three weeks. Longer if they rationed it. It also had an enchantment that would slow down spoiling on things like fresh fruit, vegetables, and even meat. Allora accepted the offer as it meant that carrying additional food wouldn¡¯t require extra yulops, which Mitchell assumed were some sort of pack animal.

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    Throughout the negotiations, Mitchell noticed that the shopkeeper was giving Allora longer and longer looks and, from the tension that entered into Allora¡¯s shoulders, he could tell she noticed it too. Her speaking became a little more clipped and she seemed to agree to prices that she might otherwise have negotiated on.

    ¡°And, one final thing, Master Nothok. If it be Stollar¡¯s will, we wish to depart in the morning. Before dawn.¡±

    Nothok stared at her for a long moment before blinking again.

    ¡°Good lady Chell, this is a large order, aye. I would ask for at least a day to put this all together. It¡¯s already well after sundown.¡±

    ¡°I understand,¡± Allora said and somehow managed to look somewhat embarrassed at her request. ¡°Asking you to put off your sleep is no small matter. If it be Stollar¡¯s will I can offer another ten talons to help you find the strength to work through the night.¡±

    The man huffed, looked again at the list of supplies he was expecting to get and then to sell in return, drummed his gnarled fingers on the scarred wood of his sales counter, and finally relented.

    ¡°Aye, ten talons and it will be as the good lady requests. I¡¯ll have to wake my lad but we¡¯ll see it done. Shall we say five bells?

    ¡°Thank you, Master Nothok,¡± Allora beamed. Her smile even dazzled the tired old dwarf and he looked slightly flustered at her praise. ¡°Five bells.¡±

    Allora gave him a slight bow of her head and they turned to leave. Halfway across the shop to the door the old dwarf suddenly called out, ¡°Allora!¡±

    She froze and Mitchell almost walked into her back and then he registered what the man had said and his stomach went ice cold.

    Allora turned very slowly and the look on her face made Mitchell want to step away from her until he saw she wasn¡¯t directing it at him. Her krisa was glowing and her hand was on the hilt of her sword. Mitchell saw a slight shimmer of the air just in front of one of the gemstones on her headband and the dwarf let out a grunt of surprise.

    Allora stalked back up to the counter and her sword was out and at the dwarf¡¯s throat before she came to a full stop. The long blade glinted dangerously off the lanterns and the shopkeeper¡¯s eyes crossed as he watched the tip slide between the hair of his beard, which sliced through a section of his beard without parting the strands. The now loose hair drifted slowly to the floor in the shop¡¯s still air. He didn¡¯t appear to be able to move. Something Allora had done had him bound.

    ¡°If you wish to continue breathing, good master Nothok, you will tell me how you know that name.¡±

    Allora¡¯s voice was dangerously low and icy. Mitchell wanted to tell her to stop but he held his tongue. He knew her well enough by now to know that she did nothing without good reason.

    ¡°Name? Aye, what name? I do not be knowing any names. Aye?¡±

    There was an almost plaintive note in his voice but Allora was not about to be placated. The blade slipped forward another centimeter and the dwarf gasped. Then the words came out of him in a rush.

    ¡°A man! Aye, a man! Elfin he was, aye! Came about a week ago, said he was looking for an Elfin woman, aye. Black hair she had, violet eyes, she had, aye! And she would be traveling with a human and a cambion. Went by the name of Allora. Said her family had been searching for her and she was rumored to be in the area. Wealthy family! Desperate to get her back, aye! Was offering a reward.¡±

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s hairy asshole,¡± Allora muttered under her breath and Mitchell was somewhat taken aback, even with the possibility of Nothok¡¯s death hovering over them. Allora almost never swore.

    She glanced at him and said, ¡°Lock the door, please Allanen.¡±

    Mitchell gave her a level look, but did as she requested.

    Once he was back at her side, she pulled the sword from his skin, but kept it at the ready.

    ¡°It is not my wish to kill you, master Nothok.¡±

    ¡°It is not my wish to be dying, my lady, aye.¡± the dwarf croaked. His face was beaded with sweat and his eyes were darting frantically back and forth between them. Mitchell could see his muscles bunching and relaxing but whatever spell she had wrapped him in held him fast.

    ¡°This man, did he give you his name?¡±

    ¡°He did, my lady. Dakath he was, aye. Dakath!¡±

    ¡°Do you know him?¡± Mitchell asked Allora.

    ¡°No, but that is not surprising.¡±

    Turning her attention back to Nothok, she asked. ¡°How much is the reward?¡±

    ¡°A thousand talons, my lady, aye. A thousand.¡±

    ¡°And would you collect this reward, master Nothok?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t see how, my lady. I haven¡¯t seen this woman he¡¯s being after, aye. Never seen her before, don¡¯t know where she is or where she¡¯s going, aye. No idea. Aye.¡±

    Allora studied him for a long moment.

    ¡°What do you want to do?¡± Mitchell asked her.

    She was looking at the dwarf hard and Mitchell followed her gaze to one of the trinkets on his beard. The one that had captured her attention was a small round stone that looked like polished quartz and was about the size of a walnut. It was encircled with six thin bands of gold. While it was one of many such trinkets, this one did seem to occupy a prominent space a few inches directly below his chin.

    ¡°Your clan was one of the seven Ilindiran dwarf clans?¡±

    The dwarf blinked at her, as if he didn¡¯t understand the question.

    ¡°My lady?¡±

    ¡°You are a descendent of one of the seven clans of Ilindira?¡±

    ¡°Aye, my lady. It is so,¡± Nothok replied, the power returning to his voice. ¡°I am from the Blue Mountain clan. Second only to the Crystal Tower itself. Guardians of the Deep Gate, tamers of the Dragon Tongue and forgers of the blade that killed Yuliana Blood Scale herself. Aye!¡±

    Even against the magical bonds that held him the dwarf seemed to swell with pride, as if daring her to challenge him.

    After a very pregnant pause, Allora nodded to him and lowered her sword. The next moment she ended the spell that held him which caused Nothok to sag and almost lose his footing.

    ¡°I am not going to kill you, master Nothok.¡±

    ¡°Aye?¡± he said in confusion as he tried to steady himself.

    ¡°I am not going to kill you because we are on the same side. And because you are not going to repeat to anyone that I was here.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand, my lady.¡±

    The dwarf looked as if he wanted to bolt but Allora¡¯s eyes held him.

    ¡°Neither do I,¡± Mitchell said.

    Rather than reply, she held up her sword but there was no threat in the gesture this time. She laid it gently on the counter and began to take off the wrapping from the hilt that concealed the onyx stone set into the handle.

    The old dwarf gasped.

    Allora drew herself to her full height and looked him square in the eyes.

    ¡°I am Allora De Annen, daughter of Travalor Ne Annen, Lord Captain of the Onyx Knights, defender of Awenor, and protector of the elemental Awen. I am the last Onyx Knight, good master Nothok. If I fail in my quest, the usurper Milandris will kill Awen, harvest her geode and the last known elemental will die. And if you seek to collect the reward on my head, the blame for that great crime will fall upon you and your clan. You will then know the shame of the Rock Hound clan and your name shall be cursed in the Crystal Hall for all time, right alongside the betrayers of Ilinde. The choice is yours.¡±

    The shopkeeper¡¯s eyes were huge as he stared at Allora and the pallor of his face resembled alabaster more than granite.

    Nothok broke away from her steely gaze, looked at the sword again and then, almost reverently, reached out a cracked and calloused finger and touched the stone in the pommel of her blade. He inhaled sharply when he made contact and snapped his fingers back as if he¡¯d been shocked.

    ¡°It do truly be from Awen herself,¡± he said in a whisper.

    As he cradled his trembling hand, a look of grim resolve crossed his scarred face and a fire lit his eyes as he returned his gaze to Allora.

    ¡°Aye, my lady Allora! You shall have what you be needing and I¡¯ll not be saying a word to anyone. On my honor and shall my body be put to sea if I do be breaking it. I swear it to Stollar and vow my soul to Denass¡¯s dark abyss should my word prove untrue. Aye!¡±

    ¡°Thank you, good master Nothok. I am pleased to see that the honor and courage of the Blue Mountain clan has not been exaggerated.¡±

    She bowed to him and he bowed in return.

    ¡°Come,¡± Allora said, turning to Mitchell. ¡°We need to get out of sight.¡±

    Mitchell led the way out of the shop and back into the night filled with questions. The seven dwarf clans of Ilindira? Yuliana Blood Scale? What was the Deep Gate? Every interaction just illustrated how much he didn¡¯t know. He added it to the pile as he and Allora walked briskly back to the inn through the empty streets of this little town in the middle of nowhere that had suddenly become a lot more dangerous.

 Chapter 29

    Lethelin shifted slightly as she watched the inn¡¯s common room. Yarlest saw to a few more customers who wished a warm bed for the night and there were a handful of others that came and went in the hour or so since Mitchell and Allora left, regulars from the looks of them, but otherwise things were uneventful. She could have wished for a better stool but there was nothing for it.

    Small movements didn¡¯t break her glamour or whatever it was. Lethelin never did have a proper name for it. She was dun, so it wasn¡¯t magic, at least not in the way people like Allora used it. Her mentor had always called it her knack or her talent. Not mystical but also not something just anyone could do, either. As long as her movements were small and slow, the ¡°spell¡±, for lack of a better word, would not be broken. Lethelin carefully scratched her nose before bringing her hand gently back to her lap and returned her eyes to the one customer she¡¯d started watching the most intently.

    He was a gnome and, from conversation she¡¯d overheard, he went by the name of Gwildor. His bald head glinted occasionally off the lanterns hung about the room and he had a shockingly white ring of hair around the crown of his head. One ear was long and pointed and the other had had the tip cut off at some point in the past. Both of them quivered when he laughed, which she knew to be something unique to their race. His face was a scrunched up bunch of wrinkles that looked like something had put their hands on both sides and squeezed. And, like all gnomes, he had a pointy nose that stuck out at least two inches from his face. His clothing was simple laborer¡¯s garb, so he was no one particularly important.

    He sat by himself on a stool at the end of the bar and had been putting away a tankard of ale about every fifteen minutes. Lethelin had marked him as a person of interest when he had seemed the most distressed by her absence. He was one of the patrons who had looked at them and then looked away too quickly, but his obvious unhappiness at losing track of her had been a warning sign.

    ¡°Yarly, where did the pretty red-haired woman get off to? I fancied a chat with her,¡± Gwildor had said when he noticed her ¡°missing¡±.

    ¡°She¡¯s being right over¨C¡± Yarlest had said then stopped when she noticed the table that Lethelin had occupied was empty and she saw no sign of her. ¡°Huh. Girl must have scampered off upstairs to bed. She did be looking tired. I suspect she was being on the road for a while.¡±

    Yarlest then snorted in Gwildor¡¯s general direction.

    ¡°As if a woman like that would want to be talking to a wrinkled old desert plum like you anyway, Gwil! Yer being five times her age if yer being a day!¡±

    ¡°Age and experience, my good lady,¡± Gwildor cackled. ¡°I could show her a thing or two, you bet your plump bottom. By Stollar, I could!¡±

    Yarlest laughed and rolled her eyes.

    ¡°And the other fine lady and the lad,¡± he said, ¡°where did you send them off to in such a hurry?¡±

    ¡°Off to see Nothok. They be looking to cross the mountain.¡±

    ¡°Tough journey,¡± Gwildor said with a knowing nod of his bald and wrinkled head. ¡°But Nothok¡¯s an honorable sort, he is. He¡¯ll get them taken care of.

    ¡°That he will,¡± Yarlest said. ¡°Yer being asking a lot of questions, Gwil. What¡¯s got you being so talkative?¡±

    ¡°Just don¡¯t often see such lovely ladies in a place like this is all,¡± Gwildor answered. Then he added quickly, ¡°Except for you, my lovely Yarly. Except for you!¡±

    Gwildor raised his mug to her and she laughed.

    ¡°Be flattering me all you like, Gwil, you¡¯ll non be getting a free ale!¡±

    Gwildor shrugged and took a swig.

    ¡°One day, my lovely Yarly. One day.¡±

    Yarlest shook her head and went back to work.

    As soon as she had turned away Lethelin had seen the pleasant grin slide from the old gnome¡¯s face and a look of consternation replace it.

    About fifteen minutes later, an orc had come in, nodded to Yarlest who greeted him by name, and sat down next to Gwildor. They began speaking in low whispers almost immediately. Gwildor gestured up the steps and the orc nodded, then slid a coin across the table to the little gnome, who pocketed it greedily. The orc got up and walked back out the door into the night, never glancing at Lethelin¡¯s corner as she watched him.

    He was big, thickly muscled, and wore a sword, but it hung awkwardly at his hip. He didn¡¯t have the easy grace of someone that was accustomed to walking with it. Also no sevith or krisa so, unless he was a wand user, which was rare, she would be able to take him in a fight. Probably. She would feel better with her rapier but she had left it behind, not wanting to carry the extra weight across the blasted sands of Iletish and so only carried her stiletto and dagger now.

    With the orc gone, she gave Gwildor her full attention and she waited. She wouldn¡¯t make her move until he got up to relieve himself, which should be any time now at the rate he was drinking his ales.

    Right about the time Gwildor was getting a little shifty in his stool, Mitchell and Allora returned. They looked upset by something and they glanced around the room looking for her. Not seeing her, Allora asked Yarlest if they¡¯d seen her and the innkeeper indicated she had gone up to her room not too long after they¡¯d gone to see Nothok. Lethelin¡¯s companions thanked her and went up the steps themselves.

    Gwildor had watched the interaction while trying not to look like he was watching. Once Mitchell and Allora had disappeared up the steps, he hopped down from the stool and announced his visit to the privy. He wobbled a bit, found his balance, and headed to the inn¡¯s back door. Lethelin tilted the stool forward back onto four legs then got to her feet. Now was the tricky part. If she walked very slowly, the illusion sometimes held. She had considered her concealment cloak but it wasn¡¯t much use in such close quarters. The odd blurring effect would likely draw more attention than it would deflect anyway.

    Lethelin didn¡¯t want to be seen walking to the privy herself, but also needed to get to him before he finished his business and went off to tell the others whatever he was being paid to report on. She decided to split the difference.

    She took careful measured steps to the stairs that led up to the second floor and then picked up her pace. Even then, the effect began to waver. Luckily, Yarlest was occupied with someone trying to sleep at one of her tables, and the handful of remaining customers were fairly drunk at this point, so she managed to slip out the door unnoticed.

    The door opened up on an area near the stables and there were two privies set up as far from the back of the inn as was possible before they butted up against the fence line. To her right came the sound of the snoring clorvol and she could hear the nervous rustle of the couple of jivis who no doubt didn¡¯t like being housed so close to the beast. They would be in a foul temper in the morning and she didn¡¯t envy their owners the bites they would receive.

    Lethelin crossed the distance to the privy and waited. She could hear Gwildor on the other side of the door humming a tune to himself as he emptied his bladder. She pulled Mira from its sheath and held it loosely at her side. A quick glance around her showed her that she was alone and no windows from the inn looked back towards her. The night was still except for the sounds of the stable and the light breeze that rolled down from the mountains which helped to clear the air of the stench of animal and outhouse.

    From inside she heard Gwildor grunt and burp before his feet shifted. Lethelin tensed and as soon as he opened the door she sprang forward, knife hand leading. She placed the edge of the blade against his throat and with her free hand grabbed the back of his head and held him firm.

    ¡°Do not speak or you die here and now. Nod if you understand me.¡±

    The wizened old gnome stared in wide-eyed shock and nodded his head, a strangled whimper emerging from his shriveled lips. His rheumy brown eyes found hers and she could see the panic in them.

    ¡°You will answer my questions quickly and quietly. Nod if you understand.¡±

    He nodded.

    ¡°Who is paying you to watch for my companions?¡±

    ¡°Dakath. Elf named Dakath. Big bounty for the elf woman.¡±

    ¡°Your orc friend. Is he reporting to Dakath?¡±

    ¡°Think so. Came back into town two days ago. Been going out and back trying to find the woman, Lora, Loran, something. I dunno! Brunol, me, and a few others been hired to keep an eye out and let Dakath know if we see anything. Please don¡¯t kill me. I was just watching. Just watching that¡¯s all!¡±

    Lethelin ignored his pitiful whimpers.

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    ¡°Where is Dakath? Is he alone?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s over at Finn¡¯s place. Yarlest didn¡¯t like the smell of ¡®im. Wouldn¡¯t give him a room. Travels by hisself from what I seen. Had a few of us on the lookout for the woman! I was just a lookout, I swear to Stollar!¡±

    Lethelin¡¯s opinion of Yarlest rose a bit at hearing she turned down the likely assassin. She¡¯d have to leave her a crown or two for her good deed.

    ¡°Is there anything else you think I should know, master Gwildor? Keep in mind, your life may depend on it.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± Gwildor said, panicking. Sweat poured off his wrinkled old face. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ No! I know. He carries a black steel blade. Longer than I am tall, it is! And a sevith! It had five stones in it. Five stones!¡±

    Stollar¡¯s balls. Definitely an assassin. That made this much more complicated.

    ¡°Thank you, master Gwildor.¡±

    With a practiced grace she removed Mira from the gnome¡¯s neck and plunged it into his chest, neatly piercing his heart. Cutting his throat would have gotten blood all over her and she didn¡¯t want to deal with that mess.

    Gwildor gasped as she wrapped her arm around his head and covered his mouth. She held him close as he shuddered and died ignoring the stench of Yarlest¡¯s weak ale, sweat, and piss.

    ¡°You really should have learned to mind your own business at your age, good master Gwildor,¡± she told him as his final breath left his body. ¡°May Denass welcome and keep you.¡±

    A quick search of his pockets netted her a handful of scales and the talon the orc had given him but nothing else of note. The only leather he had on him were his shoes, which she removed and tossed down the privy hole. Then, with a final glance around to make sure she was unobserved, she dragged his body over to the stall that held the clorvol. It was almost fully submerged in the sand pit constructed for just that purpose but its nose was above the ground and that¡¯s all she cared about.

    She dropped Gwildor¡¯s body down right in front of it and stepped back several steps. It only took a moment for the beast to catch the sent of blood. Its head emerged fully from the sand and its sleepy eyes came open as it inhaled again. It spotted the corpse and surged out of the sand, grabbing the gnome deftly between its teeth, tossed its head back and swallowed him nearly whole. Lethelin tried to ignore the sound of crunching bones and wet pops.

    Finally, the meal consumed, it settled back into the pit with a contented rumble which caused the sand to bubble up around it as it sunk back into its sleeping position.

    Job finished, Lethelin walked casually back to the inn. Instead of walking through the door though she opted to scale the building and enter her room from the window. No sense in tempting fate twice.

    ***

    A knock came at Allora¡¯s door. She and Mitchell both froze and looked at it. After a moment, a female voice came through the wooden planks.

    ¡°It¡¯s Leth, let me in. We¡¯ve got a problem.¡±

    Mitchell got up and unlatched the door. Lethelin stood, still in her traveling clothes with a serious look clouding her pale features. In the dim light of the lone candle Allora had lit, her hair looked like glistening strands of dark red blood.

    ¡°I am glad you are here,¡± Allora said to her, standing from her cot. ¡°Mitchell and I were just debating about whether or not to wake you. We¨C,¡± her voice cut off. ¡°Wait, you said we have a problem? What is your problem?¡±

    ¡°An assassin, I think. I can¡¯t imagine anyone else that would travel the wilds alone carrying a black-steel blade.¡±

    ¡°You know?¡± Mitchell asked her, looking at Allora, then back to Lethelin. ¡°How do you know?¡±

    ¡°Wait, you know?¡± Lethelin said and she almost looked dejected, as if she wanted to be the one to deliver the news. ¡°What happened on your little supply run?¡±

    ¡°You first,¡± Mitchell said.

    Lethelin huffed and retold the story of her time down in the inn¡¯s common room. She told them about Gwildor and reassured them that they didn¡¯t need to worry. She¡¯d taken care of the little spy.

    ¡°Did you kill him?¡± Allora asked levelly.

    ¡°Technically, Mira did. I was just holding her at the time,¡± Lethelin said with a smirk.

    Allora didn¡¯t find it funny.

    ¡°We do not kill people without just cause!¡± Allora snapped.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a knight!¡± Lethelin snapped right back. ¡°My code is of survival. If I had let him leave who knows what he would have told the assassin? It¡¯s bad enough that he knows we¡¯re here already.

    ¡°We¨C¡± Allora began wanting to argue but Mitchell cut her off.

    ¡°Enough. We don¡¯t have time for this.¡±

    The two women glared daggers at each other but dropped the matter.

    ¡°Anyway,¡± Lethelin began. ¡°How did you two find out?¡±

    It was now the elf¡¯s turn to recount what had happened.

    ¡°It will take him well into the night to get our provisions ready and we cannot leave without them,¡± Allora said. ¡°We will not survive the mountains without that gear. And we cannot saddle up the clorvol and head to another town. We would awaken half the townsfolk. He would only catch us.¡±

    ¡°Couldn¡¯t we take him?¡± Mitchell asked. ¡°The four of us, I mean?¡±

    ¡°We do not truly know his strength,¡± Allora said. ¡°He may have a squad waiting for word out in the desert, or he may truly be alone. And it is more than just defeating him. I must also protect you until you have come fully into your power.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m getting better,¡± Mitchell said, a little defensively.

    ¡°You are, Mitchell and I am very proud of the progress you have made. But you are not ready to face someone like him.

    Allora¡¯s voice was both conciliatory and pleading, as if she hated to tell him this but also begging him not to argue.

    Mitchell let out a sigh and nodded.

    ¡°So what do we do then,¡± Lethelin asked. ¡°Just wait for him to make a move?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± Mitchell began. ¡°I guess if we can¡¯t flee and we can¡¯t fight, the best thing we can do for now is try to get a little sleep and then sneak out before dawn. Maybe we¡¯ll slip away unnoticed and lose him in the mountains. This guy, Dakath, doesn¡¯t know we know he¡¯s here.¡±

    Mitchell looked between them and they both nodded.

    ¡°I agree,¡± Allora said. ¡°I think that is our only option. But I think we should stay together. Would you agree to spending the night in one room?¡±

    Lethelin looked at the size of Allora¡¯s chambers and arched an eyebrow.

    ¡°Yours doesn¡¯t look to be any bigger than mine,¡± the thief said. ¡°All of us in here would be a tight fit. Especially if Revos joins us.¡±

    ¡°It would be, but I think it better than separate rooms given the circumstances.¡±

    Lethelin looked at Mitchell as if asking what he thought.

    ¡°What the hell,¡± he said in English, before switching back to Common so the girls would understand him. ¡°I was planning to sleep on the floor anyway, so it might as well be in here.¡±

    Lethelin made a face.

    ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll go get my stuff,¡± she said.

    ¡°Same,¡± Mitchell chimed in.

    ¡°And I will talk to Revos,¡± Allora said.

    They exited the room into the narrow hall but not before checking it carefully for anyone that might be trying to creep up. It was clear. Mitchell headed to his room and Lethelin to hers. Allora went to Revos¡¯s chambers and knocked softly. When she got no answer, she knocked louder. Then, a third time. Finally, there was a banging sound of something hitting the floor followed by heavy footsteps. Without warning, the door swung inward startling her.

    Revos glared down at her, the vertical slits of his eyes struggling to focus.

    ¡°What?¡± he nearly snarled at her.

    The smell of cheap ale was so strong on his breath that it made her nose burn. The cambion was completely drunk. His robe was half off, exposing his bare chest and it hung loosely around his waist, twisted almost fully backward.

    ¡°Revos?¡± Allora had no idea what to say. She had never seen him like this. ¡°What¡­ what has happened to you?¡±

    ¡°Does it matter?¡±

    His words were slurred and he swayed a bit then rested a hand on the door frame of the door to steady himself.

    ¡°I¡­ of course it does,¡± Allora told him. ¡°We have a problem. Now is not a good time to be so drunk you cannot stand. This is foolishness, Revos!¡±

    ¡°As far as I can tell, you have a problem, not me. Everything was fine until you brought that tight little elfin ass to my tower. I was perfectly happy bedding merchant wives, merchant daughters, guardswomen, noble women, merchant lords, whomever I wanted. They were all eager. Then you arrive. Judging me! Rejecting me! And not only you, but you infected the little cutpurse as well. As if I¡¯m not good enough for either of you!¡±

    Allora wanted to object that it wasn¡¯t like that, but he rolled right through her protests.

    ¡°I am from a royal line, I¡¯ll have you know!¡± He burped and Allora feared he might sick up on her. But he gained control of himself and pushed on.

    ¡°Clan Heart¡¯s Blood. Third in line to my house¡¯s high seat! It is not for you to judge me! I was manipulating the forces of nature before you were even born! I could wave my hand and reduce half this town to ash if I so choose! You can¡¯t even begin to comprehend the power I can wield if I want to! And I did what I had to do to survive!¡±

    Revos thumped his chest and it reverberated with a solid thunk and glared at her.

    ¡°It is what I do! I survive. And I have. I survived the Scorching when I was only seven high suns old. Seven! I survived my own brother trying to kill me. And where is he now? Dead!¡± Revos spat the words. ¡°But not me. I survived my own assassination attempt, I survived the machinations of Ekmir as he sought revenge for me bedding his wife, I survived exile in a hostile nation, and I survived countless other pathetically weak magic users seeking to test their might against me! Revos Naxus! And here I am while they rot in the ground!¡±

    He snarled that last part as the rage built in him and she saw the tips of his horns flared with a near white-hot intensity. Allora dared not move. She had never felt in danger from Revos but she was beginning to see how his people had earned their reputation. Even as drunk as he was, if he attacked her, she did not think she would survive. Allora didn¡¯t know what the Scorching was but the cambions were a secretive bunch and there had not been a delegation to the palace in Lorivin since early in Baylor¡¯s reign, nearly sixty years ago. She hardly dared to breathe.

    Revos¡¯s golden eyes bored into her, filled with rage and¨Cshockingly¨Cpain she now saw. As she watched, a single tear fell from the corner of his right eye and boiled away to steam in a moment.

    ¡°I survived your capture, my little Onyx Knight,¡± His voice was quieter now and his shoulders began to slump. ¡°Our imprisonment, my confinement in the cage, our escape, and our trek across the wastes.¡±

    There was a long pause.

    ¡°And I survived your rejection. I think after all that, I¡¯ve survived you enough.¡±

    The glow from his horns faded and winked out and his chin dipped to his chest as he let out a long, ale-soaked breath.

    ¡°Revos, I¨C¡±

    Like a whip, his hand slashed to air to silence her.

    ¡°No goodbyes, my lady,¡± Revos said, his deep bass voice tinged with melancholy. He brought his sorrowful eyes back to hers. ¡°You go your way and I will go mine. The boy will be fine, I got him casting spells before the mountains, just as I promised I would. I equipped him with the finest sevith money could buy and a full complement of gemstones. His spell book has useful spells up to the fifth circle which should keep him occupied for the next several months, assuming he survives.¡±

    Allora felt her nose begin to ache as it always did when she was about to cry. She tried to bury it.

    ¡°Then this is where our paths diverge,¡± she sniffed and looked away, staring at nothing. ¡°Where will you go?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t know. Maybe back to Kazig. If they¡¯ve sent my cousin I might not be able to delay any longer. She is¡­ persistent.¡±

    Allora looked back up to him to see him give her the barest hint of a smile.

    ¡°She is like you in that way, my lady knight. You would have made a good cambion, Lora. You are strong, fierce, loyal, determined, and braver than anyone I have ever met. The boy doesn¡¯t know how lucky he is.¡±

    Allora¡¯s eyes were wet but she didn¡¯t care. She placed a hand on his chest, his demonic skin almost hot enough to burn her but she held it fast. She had thought him only an opportunistic scoundrel but she could see now that she had misjudged him. She had been unable to see past his bluster and bravado and the stereotypes about his race.

    ¡°Safe travels, my friend,¡± Allora sad sadly. ¡°I hope to see you again.¡±

    ¡°Be it Stollar¡¯s will.¡±

    Without another word, he stepped back from her and closed the door.

 Chapter 30

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    ¡°Let me guess. Big, red, and horny decided to stay in his own room?¡± Lethelin asked when Allora returned without him.

    Mitchell looked up from where he was trying to arrange his sleeping area between the cot and Lethelin¡¯s mat against the far wall and saw the pained look on the elf¡¯s face.

    ¡°What happened?¡± he asked.

    Allora drew in a deep breath and said, ¡°Revos will not be traveling with us across the mountains. We will leave without him in the morning.¡±

    Mitchell felt a knot of fear begin to grow in his stomach. He had been counting on Revos having their backs.

    ¡°What happened? Should I go talk to him?¡± Mitchell asked.

    Allora wobbled her head.

    ¡°No, do not. He made his position quite clear. He will return to Kazig.¡±

    Allora took a deep breath and seemed to put the matter behind her.

    ¡°The plan Mitchell suggested has not changed. We will get what sleep we can and leave out well before dawn. I will ward the door, just in case.

    Allora spent the next several minutes with a piece of chalk drawing runes on the door frame. The actual door itself was not a flat enough surface to get a powerful rune inscribed without line breaks, but she managed some basic alarm runes and one minor shock rune that would go off if it were opened from the outside. She used the moment to introduce Mitchell to how wards worked.

    ¡°They function much the same way as a spell rune that you form in your mind but they must be modified to hold the mana that is required to charge them.¡±

    Off to the side on a segment of wall to the left of the door, she drew the rune for the light cantrip he had learned. Her strokes were deft and sure and he envied her confidence.

    ¡°This is the rune you have learned. Look here, here, and here. See where the channel lines extend past the boundary line?¡±

    Mitchell nodded that he did.

    ¡°These allow the power to be directed where you wish it to go. Preferably into a sevith. Try to channel into the rune, but don¡¯t shape it beforehand. Touch it anywhere inside the boundary line and push the mana into it.¡±

    Mitchell did as he was instructed and there was a small flash of light that went out almost immediately.

    ¡°The mana filled the circle but it escaped through the lines that broke the boundary. If you maintained the flow it would stay lit, but would go out as soon as you stopped. But if I do this¡­¡±

    Allora drew an elegant curve off of each channel line that broke the boundary and connected it to a section of the encircling boundary line that touched another of the channel lines inside the circle. It gave it an almost floral appearance.

    ¡°This allows the mana to flow back into the rune and maintain its energy. Try it again.¡±

    Mitchell did and this time it stayed lit. He watched in awe as the mana filled the channel lines, hit the boundary, broke through, and then funneled back in. It lasted all of ten or fifteen seconds before it emitted a small puff of smoke and winked out.

    ¡°What happened?¡±

    Allora held up her piece of chalk and explained.

    ¡°This will not hold the charge for very long. The runes I¡¯ve drawn on the frame are passive, so the energy doesn¡¯t degrade the chalk very quickly. But the light spell is more intensive. The small shock spell was about the limit of what it could do and it will fail before the sun rises.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s all fascinating but if the lesson is complete, some of us would like to sleep,¡± Lethelin quipped from the floor. ¡°By my count, we¡¯ve got less than five hours before we need to be on the move.¡±

    Allora gave a small smile of embarrassment but agreed.

    Mitchell thanked her for the brief lesson and then crawled into his mat. Allora laid down in her cot and shifted about several times before settling into a position.

    ¡°I think you two had the right idea sleeping on the floor,¡± Allora said with a grimace. ¡°This cot is¡­ uncomfortable.¡±

    She blew out the candle and the only light was the soft glow of Ithstasy coming through the window.

    Mitchell tried to sleep but found it would not come. He was nervous. It didn¡¯t seem to bother Lethelin, who was softly snoring beside him. He heard the cot creak, the wood frame groaned, and then Allora¡¯s arm slipped down off the bed. He felt it brush up against his wrist. Very delicately, he moved his hands and let his fingers touch hers. To his shock, she hooked her fingers into his. It was tentative at first, but then she held them firmly.

    Mitchell opened his eyes and saw her face was just at the edge of the cot and she was looking down at him. They stared at each other for a long moment. Mitchell almost got lost in the dark purple pools of her eyes. Rather than looking alien to him as they first had, her eyes had become one of the things he liked most about her.

    ¡°You know,¡± he said quietly. ¡°I think a lot about that night you found me.¡±

    ¡°As do I.¡±

    ¡°I wonder if you were just a regular girl from my world and we had met under normal circumstances and that had been our first time meeting, would we have liked each other?¡±

    ¡°I do not know,¡± Allora said. ¡°It is hard for me to imagine living a life there. I do not know what kind of woman I would be in your world. Who would I be without my magic and my training? It is all I have ever known.¡± After a small pause, she added, ¡°But I am glad you are with me in mine.¡±

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Those words were like a jolt through Mitchell¡¯s body and he squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.

    ¡°Do you think we will be okay without Revos?¡± Mitchell asked her.

    ¡°He was never supposed to journey back with us. I had planned for only the two of us to return to Awenor. We would have traveled quickly along the Diran road and made it here weeks earlier. But this worked to our benefit as we had the time to train you with the sword and your magic. It would have been harder to teach you magic without him. He is much more skilled than I in that area. He has decades of experience and knowledge. His departure is a loss, but I think we will be okay.¡±

    ¡°Lora¡­¡± Mitchell began, weighing his words carefully before he spoke. ¡°I am glad I¡¯m here.¡±

    She raised her head up to look at him more fully.

    ¡°A lot about this has been terrible,¡± he continued. ¡°And I¡¯ve accepted that we¡¯re probably all going to die, but¡­ I think this is where I¡¯m supposed to be. I never believed in destiny before, but if there is such a thing then I feel like this is mine.¡±

    In the soft glow of the moonlight, Mitchell could make out a glistening around Allora¡¯s eyes. She smiled warmly and then put her head back down without answering. She didn¡¯t take her hand out of his, though.

    ***

    ¡°The common room is empty,¡± Lethelin said as she stuck her head just inside the door where Mitchell and Allora stood waiting. ¡°I say we go now before Yarlest shows up in the kitchen to get breakfast started.¡±

    Lethelin started to back out of the door then suddenly stopped. There was some digging around under her cloak and her hand emerged with two gold talons. She put them just inside the door on a ledge, then ducked out.

    Mitchell looked at Allora who looked at him and then shrugged. Mitchell shrugged too and they exited as quietly as they could. He didn¡¯t know how she did it but Lethelin¡¯s feet were near silent even on the old floorboards of this ramshackle inn. To Mitchell, his and Allora¡¯s steps sounded loud enough to rouse everyone within two blocks but no one emerged telling them to keep it down and before long they were out the back door of the inn near the stables.

    ¡°Let me scout ahead,¡± Lethelin said, her voice a near whisper. She raised the cloak of her hood and immediately her edges blurred. After only a half dozen steps, she was nearly invisible in the darkness. Mitchell glanced about and tried to ignore the feeling that they were being watched. He felt a tightness across his shoulders and lower back and every small gust of wind made him want to bolt.

    As for Allora, she wasn¡¯t taking any chances. She¡¯d swapped out a couple of partially used gemstones from her sevith and her sword was out and ready. Mitchell had his out as well but didn¡¯t feel nearly as confident as he would have liked. He tried to remember that he already had more training than a lot of common cutpurses and petty tough guys they might come across but since he¡¯d never swung his blade in real combat before, it was all theory. While they waited, he began reviewing sword maneuvers in his head, recalling the positions and footwork that each required. It wasn¡¯t much, but it helped calm his mind. If he had to guess, he would say he¡¯d done a lot of those moves hundreds ¨C maybe thousands ¨Cof times in practice. Reviewing them now was almost meditative.

    Around five minutes passed before Lethelin¡¯s hazy form emerged from the darkness nearly on top of them. Mitchell and Allora both jerked in surprise but recovered quickly enough.

    ¡°There was a sentry at the end of the street. A local from the looks of it. I took care of him. We¡¯re clear until the large intersection at the end of this row of buildings.¡±

    Mitchell looked at Allora, expecting her to argue about needless killing again, but whatever misgivings she had had about Lethelin¡¯s actions earlier, she didn¡¯t have them now. Instead, she nodded grimly and they set off, Lethelin leading the way about ten meters ahead and invisible. Allora had excellent night vision but couldn¡¯t move as silently as the thief and stealth was preferred here.

    As they walked, Mitchell started humming the tune from Mission: Impossible. He couldn¡¯t help it.

    ¡°Dun dun dun-dun dun dun dun dun-dun-dun, dadada!¡± he whispered.

    Allora turned to look at him like he was a crazy person.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± she said, her tone incredulous.

    Mitchell grinned. ¡°Sorry, it¡¯s just that we¡¯re trying to be sneaky and it reminded me of this¨C¡±

    She stopped walking and stared at him with a flat face.

    ¡°Never mind¡±

    They made it to the end of the block without incident and Allora whispered the next couple of streets they had to get through before making their way to the merchant¡¯s shop.

    They veered right into an alley, walked about forty meters, and then stopped at an intersection with a road wide enough for maybe two wagons abreast. Just across and to the right was Nothok¡¯s shop. A lone lantern glowed from a hook next to the door. There would be no cover as they crossed the street and they all knew it.

    ¡°What should we do?¡± Lethelin whispered.

    ¡°That¡¯s where we need to go, right?¡± Mitchell asked Allora.

    She nodded and Mitchell could see her eyes examining the darkness in search of other sentries or ambushers. The wind was the only sound they heard at this early hour as it blew through the shabby buildings around them. Here and there, he could make out the creak of a window shutter or sign as they rocked in the near steady breeze. Nothing on the street moved and shadows cloaked everything.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go then,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°Dawn won¡¯t wait for us. We¡¯ll move together. Be ready.¡±

    That last part made him cringe a little. Be ready? Of course, they would be ready. They were strung as tightly as a bow. Still, it had sounded good in his mind. Like it was something the hero ought to say. They always talked like that in the movies, anyway.

    Mitchell took the first step and they followed him, Allora on his right and Lethelin on his left. Her cloak was still up so anyone more than a couple of meters away wouldn¡¯t even see her. Their first few steps were cautious as they tried to look everywhere at once. Mitchell wanted to be holding a spell at the ready but Allora had warned him that the glow would be visible. There were krisas and seviths that kept the gemstones covered but they weren¡¯t popular since it made swapping stones in an emergency a difficult task and one that usually cost the caster¡¯s life.

    Mitchell was just beginning to think their plan had worked as they neared the merchant shop when he caught a glimmer of light from down the street to his right. Allora noticed at the same time and uttered a cry as she flung her sword arm up horizontally across her body, the stone in the pommel glowing like a mini sun in the pre-dawn darkness. A few inches out in front of her a dome shimmered into existence. At almost the same instant, purple-black chords of energy struck the conjured shield with enough force that Allora staggered back and into him. There was a ripping sound and the shield broke under the assault, but it had done its job and stopped the attack.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s hairy asshole,¡± Lethelin whispered harshly from behind. ¡°Four of them just stepped out from some sort of concealment spell.¡±

    Mitchell kept his eyes trained on the tall man who was walking down the center of the street. Three more men emerged from the shadows behind him.

    ¡°Three down this street,¡± Mitchell told her. ¡°Plus our boy Dakath, I think.¡±

    The one Mitchell pegged as Dakath was definitely a cut above the lackeys he had with him. He was at least as tall as Allora and had broad shoulders. His silver-white hair hung loose around his shoulders and his face was almost angelic in its angular pale beauty. In the paltry light of the lone lantern of Nothok¡¯s shop, his eyes were silver in color. He wore form-fitting black leather armor and from his right hand extended a long blade made with a black metal that reflected almost no light. In the darkness, Mitchell had to strain to see it. The man¡¯s cold eyes were locked on Allora.

    ¡°I would have been disappointed if that had worked,¡± he said as he strode forward like he was out for a walk in the country.

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 Chapter 31

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    Rather than the deep and ominous intonation Mitchell had expected, Dakath¡¯s voice was almost lilting and feminine. It was clearly male, but it was the kind of male he used to see on K-pop boy band members back home. However, while they had been sculpted by the finest plastic surgeons in South Korea, Dakath¡¯s masculine beauty was all natural. If it weren¡¯t for the unusually long and pointed Spock ears, he would have fit right in on a fashion runway.

    The men around him looked to be all local. Their clothing appeared to be whatever they¡¯d shown up in that day and they carried a mishmash of weapons. Four had swords but only two of them looked like they knew how to use them given their stances. The other two looked less confident, their backbones stiffened only by the superior numbers. The other men held axes of various sizes but again only one or two of them looked like they had experience using them. Mitchell was somewhat surprised at himself that he could determine just by how they were standing who possessed ability and who did not. The hours of drilling had done more than teach him how to hold his sword, it seemed.

    Dakath had stopped about thirty feet away and regarded them with an appraising eye. He squinted past Mitchell and then grunted.

    ¡°That is a clever disguise you have there, little human.¡±

    ¡°You like it?¡± Lethelin asked. ¡°Come a little closer and I¡¯ll show you how it works.¡±

    The men with him jerked in surprise. To their eyes, the voice had come from nowhere. Whatever skill Dakath had used to see her, the others didn¡¯t share it.

    The tall elf chuckled.

    ¡°That would not go well for you. But you are not the one I was paid to find and bring in. I¡¯ll grant you your life if you leave now. This is the only offer you will get. I am here for the knight and her companion. You don¡¯t need to die today.¡±

    Mitchell heard Allora inhale sharply and he thought he knew why. She had made her distrust of their companion clear from the beginning. Lethelin had made a deal with them, and had sworn on it, but could they really trust her? He hoped they could. That moment in the gardens at Besari had felt genuine. Like something had really passed between them. Mitchell had no way of knowing if it was more to her, though. This also wasn¡¯t helped by the fact that she had been acting distant with him ever since. Would she abandon them now? The silence stretched. It felt like hours but in reality was only a few seconds.

    ¡°It will hurt me to kill someone as pretty as yourself,¡± she finally said from just behind Mitchell¡¯s shoulder. ¡°But I¡¯ll get over it.¡±

    Mitchell almost sagged in relief. She was not going to run.

    Dakath¡¯s thin pale lips stretched into an almost feral grin but he didn¡¯t answer. He turned his attention back to Allora.

    ¡°The preference is to bring you in alive,¡± he said. ¡°However, I think we both know you don¡¯t intend to surrender. Still, I¡¯ll give you this chance. Call it a courtesy extended to the last Onyx Knight.¡±

    Before Allora could respond the man reached into a pouch at his waist and pulled out three small black stones. He tossed them one at a time about halfway between himself and the three of them. They landed on the hard-packed dirt with small thumps.

    Allora sucked in a breath at the sight of them and he could see her start to quiver with rage. Dakath noticed and smirked wickedly. He brought his sword up to the ready position.

    Mitchell had a sneaking suspicion of what those stones were and he knew why she was so angry.

    ¡°If you keep him occupied, I think Lethelin and I can handle the others,¡± Mitchell whispered to Allora. He knew she was close enough to hear him with her superior senses, but didn¡¯t know if Dakath could or not. ¡°Once they¡¯re dealt with we¡¯ll assist.¡±

    The only answer were the lights on Allora¡¯s krisa which began to glow. Mitchell also summoned the one defensive spell he knew, the arcane missile and, almost as if on instinct, everyone leapt into action at the same time.

    Mitchell flung out his hand and released three arcane missiles at the orc to the left of Dakath. At the same time Lora seemed to disappear and reappear just in front of Dakath, sword already in motion. Only one of Mitchell¡¯s missiles found their target but it hit him squarely in his unarmored chest, sending him to the ground. Mitchell moved quickly, unsure if his opponent would rise again. He moved away from the assassin and towards the four men that had come up behind them. He looked for Lethelin but with her cloak she was all but invisible. One man was down with a dagger through his throat and two more were moving back to back trying to find her in the dark. The third one was charging at Mitchell, sword already swinging down.

    Some cold, analytical part of Mitchell¡¯s mind analyzed the thug as he watched the man coming at him. It was almost like time slowed down.

    ¡°He¡¯s swinging from the shoulder, not the elbow. He thinks it makes the strike more powerful,¡± the voice in his head said. ¡°Arm overextended, leaving his chest wide open. Running heel to toe, he¡¯ll be off balance. Take the strike, deflect to the side, punch in the throat, stab through the chest as he staggers back. Aim for the heart.¡±

    All this in barely a second. Mitchell blinked and almost as if his arm didn¡¯t need the command, he brought his blade up to accept a wild swing from the hired muscle. The man was yelling a sort of war cry but it sounded far away to Mitchell. The blade¡¯s blow sent shockwaves up to his shoulder, but he didn¡¯t hit any harder than Allora had and he found he knew how to absorb it. Twisting his body and the sword at an angle towards the ground to deflect the downward force of the man¡¯s strike, Mitchell could close the distance with him as his enemy¡¯s momentum propelled him into arm¡¯s reach. Just like he had imagined, his left hand formed a fist and jabbed his opponent in the throat with one quick, solid strike.

    There was a wet crunching sound as something inside broke under the force of the blow and the man staggered back, a look of incomprehension on his grizzled face. He dropped his sword as both hands came up to clutch at his ruined neck. Mitchell was so shocked it had actually worked that he almost forgot to finish the job. He lunged forward extending his arm just as he had practiced hundreds of times and the blade slipped into his stomach just below his sternum with almost no resistance. The man tried to scream but his throat was smashed and all that came out was a gurgle. Mitchell stood back up, withdrawing his weapon from the man¡¯s body and stared in disbelief as he fell over. The whole thing had taken barely six seconds and the man was dying, bleeding out on the ground in front of him. He¡¯d never killed anyone before. Oh fuck, he¡¯d just killed someone! Technically the man was still alive but he had only moments left. He¨C

    ¡°Behind you!¡±

    Lethelin¡¯s voice snapped him out of his shock. On instinct he rolled forward, executing a tumble and came up on his feet facing the opposite direction in time to see the follow through from one of the ax wielders swinging where his head had been a second earlier. All in a rush the world came back to him. The sound of steel on steel was ringing in the night as Dakath and Allora did battle about twenty feet in front of him. Their faces were contorted with concentration as their blades sliced through the air. As he watched, there was a detonation of some kind that exploded the earth around them. Allora had cast something that Dakath had defended against, though it did send him back a few steps. Behind them, Mitchell could see the orc he had hit with the missile stagger to his feet, one arm limp at his side. The other two men weren¡¯t waiting, though.

    They recovered from the magical blast and both began to stalk toward Mitchell. The one with the ax was walking with purpose and looked to know what he was doing. The other one with the sword looked less certain and when he saw his former companion on the ground choking out his last few breaths Mitchell thought he might bolt.

    ¡°You could run,¡± Mitchell told them, repeating the offer Dakath had made to Lethelin. His heart was racing and he was trying very hard not to hear the dying gasps of the man he¡¯d just run through. ¡°I don¡¯t want to kill you.¡±

    The older man, who looked to be some sort of human-dwarf mix, sneered.

    ¡°There¡¯s a lot of gold for you and the elf lady, boy. I think I¡¯ll take my chances.¡±

    The older one glanced at the younger one with the sword briefly and said, ¡°Get on his left. We¡¯ll hit him from both sides.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s got a sevith,¡± the younger man said.

    ¡°Best move fast, then,¡± the older man growled.

    The younger one, who looked to be about Mitchell¡¯s age, nodded shakily and began to inch off to Mitchell¡¯s right. He had his sword clutched out in front of him in both hands and he still looked like he might drop it. Mitchell knew he could take him but how would he deal with the older man? The old man looked like some sort of veteran. Someone once strong but who had been put out to pasture long ago. Mitchell saw he was favoring his left leg so maybe it was an old injury. His arms were shorter than Mitchell¡¯s but the axe he carried had a long haft that gave him at least as good a reach as Mitchell. He spread his feet and held out his sword to the bigger threat. He would have to¨C

    Mitchell stopped and blinked. What was he doing? The younger guy had said it himself. Mitchell had a sevith. He had magic. These guys had none. Neither had a sevith or a krisa. With the adrenalin and shock of killing his first enemy, he¡¯d almost completely forgotten his own powers.

    The old man was only about ten feet away with his ax held defensively across his chest. Mitchell couldn¡¯t miss at this distance. He almost felt sorry for the old man, but he had tried to warn him.

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    ¡°Sorry, but you brought a knife to a gun fight,¡± Mitchell told him and extended his arm out and released three arcane missiles at near point blank range into the the old warrior¡¯s chest. They materialized just in front of his hand and shot forward with an sizzling thwip-thwip-thwip sound. The first one was stopped by the leather jerkin armor but the second one blew a hole in it and the third impacted flesh with the sound of meat striking a well-heated fry pan. Mitchell could see the jerkin puff up at the strike and there was a small explosion of blood and flesh as it was blasted apart by the final one. The man cried out and fell back into the ground writhing in pain. Allora and Revos had told him that the spell wasn¡¯t strong enough to kill generally, but it would do damage. Mitchell turned his full attention back to the younger one who stared frozen and wide-eyed at the sevith.

    Rather than kill him Mitchell summoned the light spell and held it in his hand and gave the guy an ominous stare. It was enough. The guy dropped the sword, turned, and bolted. Barely ten seconds had passed on that encounter.

    There was a flash of light. Dakath uttered a cry and Mitchell looked up just in time to see him stagger back. He had blood running down the side of his face and the other side was twisted into a snarl. Allora had knocked the cocky grin off his face, at least.

    ¡°I¡¯m done being nice,¡± he said, his face tight with rage and pain. ¡°Bringing you back alive was optional!¡±

    Allora had her blade extended out in front of her, held in both hands and she was also breathing hard. Mitchell started to go to her but she must have sensed him. She called back without turning.

    ¡°No! Help Lethelin!¡±

    As Mitchell watched, Dakath¡¯s sevith glowed and a series of pulses rushed toward Allora. Some she blocked with a shield spell and some she stopped with her sword which glowed whenever one of the energy blasts hit it. However, one got through and struck her in the shoulder spinning her around and knocking her down. She rolled with it though and staggered to her feet with a grunt flinging an arc of lightning back at Dakath who dove out of the way.

    As much as Mitchell wanted to help her, he knew he needed to trust her. Reluctantly, he turned and searched for Lethelin.

    She was encircled by the two remaining men who had their blades stretched out on either side to block her from slipping past them. The cowl was down as, at such close range, it would do her no good anyway and she needed the peripheral vision. As Mitchell assessed the situation, he saw what their tactic was. The one on the right, who looked like he knew how to use his sword would feint towards her and she would dance back lightly on her feet while the other tried to take advantage and stab at her from the other side. She was barely able to dodge each time and they knew that, eventually, she would slip up and one of them would get her. They were so busy trying to keep Lethelin from getting away that they hadn¡¯t noticed their companions were already dead or run off.

    Not wasting any more time, Mitchell extended his hand, formed the arcane missile spell in his mind, and sent three shots towards the more dangerous of the pair. The first one missed but the other two struck true. One in his side and the other in his leg. Mitchell cursed a little to himself. He¡¯d been aiming for his head, but a hit was a hit.

    Staggered and off balance, he hit the ground screaming. Large holes were burned through the simple canvas workman¡¯s clothing he wore and it had offered no protection against the spell.

    Never one to miss an opportunity, Lethelin took advantage of not having to watch her back and slipped inside the other man¡¯s reach to drive her stiletto right through the man¡¯s chin and into his brain. Moving with the grace of water flowing around a branch in a stream, she withdrew the long, thin blade with a flourish and the man crumpled to the ground, dead before his body came to rest. The other one was trying to get to his feet but the leg Mitchell had struck didn¡¯t want to support him.

    Lethelin stepped over to him and, before Mitchell could tell her to stop, knocked his hand aside as he made a feeble attempt to ward her away, and stabbed him through the heart. Cold, efficient, and with no wasted movements. As the man shuddered and died she saw their other opponent was still on the ground, his body tense with pain at the wound from the arcane missile. She closed the distance and repeated the process. Her grisly work finished, she looked up at him, then down at the man he had killed, then back to him.

    ¡°What kept you?¡± she finally said, as if he were a few minutes late bringing her coffee. Mitchell couldn¡¯t tell if she was kidding or not.

    From behind him there was a loud explosion, a woman¡¯s scream, and then it was silent. After the clash of blades and bursts of magic, the silence was almost painful. Mitchell turned and felt his stomach drop.

    Allora was down. She lay in a heap, smoke rising off her body, one arm soaked in blood and burn marks all over her clothing, some of which were still glowing red. She wasn¡¯t moving. Her sword was on the ground a few feet away from her and Dakath limped over to her. No grin, no joke, just rage on his once-serene face.

    ¡°You filthy dock whore,¡± he growled at her as he came to a stop above her.

    He landed a vicious kick to her stomach and she rolled over. But even with the power of the blow, she didn¡¯t make a sound.

    ¡°No!¡± Mitchell screamed, and let loose a barrage of arcane missile spells. The first few struck Dakath¡¯s armor but barely managed to even get his attention. Not bothering to look up from Allora¡¯s body, he waved his hand and the three others that were still in flight veered off harmlessly around him. Mitchell gasped. That was all he had.

    Finally, Dakath looked up and spoke, his voice raspy after the fight with Allora.

    ¡°Do you want to watch the death of the last Onyx Knight?¡±

    His sevith glowed and suddenly Mitchell felt powerful bands of force wrap around him and pull tight. He dropped his sword as his arms were forced against his body and his legs pinned together. From the corner of his eye, he could see Lethelin had suffered the same fate.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you touch her!¡± Mitchell raged at him. He flexed and tried to twist his body free but it was like he was encased in concrete. He wondered if this was the same spell Allora had used on Nothok. It certainly seemed like it. He could barely move his chest enough to draw a deep breath.

    ¡°So ends the Onyx Knights,¡± Dakath said and he sounded almost mournful. He took his sword in both hands and held it with the point down, directly over Allora¡¯s heart.

    Beside him he heard Lethelin whisper in anguish, ¡°No!¡±

    ¡°Allora!¡± Mitchell screamed.

    Just then, something caught Mitchell¡¯s attention behind the assassin. From the darkness two golden points began to glow in the air about two meters off the ground. Almost like two fireflies stationary in the night.

    Before Mitchell could put together what was happening tendrils of what Mitchell could only describe as glistening tar erupted from the earth just beyond Dakath¡¯s feet. The elf began to scream as they swirled up and around him. He hacked at them with his blade but any damage was immediately undone the moment the weapon was withdrawn. The coiling vines of inky blackness ranged in thickness from about as wide as Mitchell¡¯s wrist to his thighs and they swarmed hungrily encasing Dakath fully leaving only his face visible. The spell holding Lethelin and Mitchell ended and they both fell to the ground.

    From behind Dakath a figure stepped into the small sliver of light that was cast from Nothok¡¯s lantern. It was Revos. He was naked from the waist up and the glow from the tips of his horns gave his coppery skin the look of red-tinged gold. He looked down at Allora and the wicked light he emitted gave an angry pulse. Revos turned his snake eyes¨C no, they weren¡¯t snake¡¯s eyes, Mitchell now understood. They had never been snake eyes. They were the eyes of a demon. Mitchell was looking at a creature from a hell dimension that had been born in fire. And he was pissed.

    Revos turned to Dakath who was still screaming and whimpering inside the rippling tentacles.

    ¡°Olep druzan vie lashetha,¡± the demon growled.

    Mitchell felt a wave of dizziness wash over him as he and Lethelin broke from their fear and rushed over to Allora¡¯s still-unmoving body. Lethelin too almost lost her footing. Revos twisted his wrist and Mitchell heard the muffled sounds of bones breaking. A lot of bones. A tentacle had wrapped around Dakath¡¯s throat cutting off his screams but his anguished eyes said enough.

    ¡°Cinluma je, lashetha doi. Cinluma je.¡±

    Mitchell had no idea what Revos was saying but it sounded like words to damn a man¡¯s soul.

    Even with a tentacle choking his throat, the sounds of agony Dakath was enduring made it through the tortured elf¡¯s throat. It sent ice through Mitchell¡¯s veins and he broke out in a cold sweat. Mitchell looked and saw Dakath¡¯s skin had turned the red of a nasty burn and he had begun to tremble violently. His eyes rolled back in his head and steaming blood exploded from every orifice on his skull. No, not steaming. It was boiling.

    The skin of Dakath¡¯s face had begun to blister from the inside! His eyes burst and bubbling ocular fluid spurted out, followed by a rush of sputtering blood. Blisters burst open and the searing red life began to spill out of those, too. Mitchell stared in abject terror at what he was witnessing. The stench was overpowering and Mitchell fought to control his stomach. Lethelin had scampered back and looked to be having the same problem.

    With a final pulse of the light on his horns, the spell ended. The tentacles receded into the ground and what was left of Dakath landed with a sickening squish. Mitchell could feel the heat coming off the dead elf from a meter away. The charred blood began to flake off of his burnt skin as the ever-present wind gusted through the still-empty streets.

    ¡°Cinluma je,¡± Revos said with finality.

    Mitchell¡¯s stomach was still heaving and he tried to get control of body. He picked himself up to one knee, swayed uncertainly, then stood. The taste in his mouth was vile. Charred blood and bile. He spat, but it did little to clear it. His water skin was in his pack, which had been dropped on the ground somewhere. It could wait.

    ¡°Revos! Allora, she¡¯s hurt. Can you help her?¡±

    Revos pulled his eyes away from Dakath¡¯s steaming corpse and focused his slits on Mitchell. Something about his face was different. It looked more¡­ angular. The ridges around his eyes were sharper, his chin a little pointier. And his fangs were definitely longer.

    ¡°I will see to her.¡±

    Turning his back to the dead assassin, Revos knelt down beside Allora¡¯s unconscious form. He took note of her wounds and then began the process of repairing her. After a few moments, she began to groan and her eyes fluttered open.

    ¡°Mitchell¡­¡± she said weakly and her eyes, still half-lidded and confused, began to search for him.

    ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± Mitchell said, taking her hand. Her eyes found his and she drifted off again.

    ¡°I¡¯ve repaired the broken bones, the burns and the wound on her arm,¡± Revos said after a long couple of minutes. ¡°But she will need to rest and she will need food. She was badly hurt.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t have time,¡± Lethelin said. ¡°We need to get moving before people stop ignoring the sounds of battle and come investigating all the dead locals.¡±

    Revos grimaced then came to some decision. His sevith glowed and a small hole appeared in the air. It was about a foot and a half wide and it shimmered around the edges but was otherwise perfectly two dimensional. It had width but no depth. Revos stuck his hand inside and, from Mitchell¡¯s perspective, it sunk into nothingness. Revo¡¯s arm shifted about slightly and then emerged with a small black vial. The portal closed once his hand was clear. He grunted and handed it to Mitchell with instructions.

    ¡°She will awaken soon. When she does, have her drink this. It will get her moving for a few hours at least, but you need to stop and rest as soon as you can. And make sure she eats while she is moving. Do you understand?¡±

    Mitchell nodded and accepted the vial from him.

    ¡°May Stollar guide your path and Denass shelter your soul if you fall, young kingling,¡± Revos said. Then, looking at Lethelin he added, ¡°And keep that blade sharp.¡±

    He stood to go but paused when he saw Dakath¡¯s sword laying abandoned on the ground a few feet away. He picked it up to examine it more closely.

    ¡°This is Tayvn¡¯s work,¡± he said. ¡°I wonder how this pathetic sack of elf flesh got it. No matter. I¡¯ll take it back with me.¡±

    Mitchell and Lethelin watched him saunter away without another word as if he hadn¡¯t just boiled a man from the inside.

    Finally, Lethelin said, ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get her out of the street and into the shop, at least.¡±

    ¡°Wait,¡± Mitchell said suddenly. He went back and collected their travel packs and weapons. Then he went over to where Dakath had thrown the three black stones he had taken from his pouch and pocketed them.

    Returning to Lethelin, they picked Allora up, Mitchell under her arms and Lethelin at her feet. Trying not to jostle her too much they made it to the shop¡¯s door and let themselves in.

 Chapter 32

    They laid Allora down gently inside the door and Mitchell began to scout around for Nothok. Lethelin grabbed the lantern off the peg outside, snuffed it, then closed and latched the door. As Mitchell headed toward the counter and the backroom, she began to scan the items in the shop. Mitchell saw her pick up some sort of digging implement and examine it.

    ¡°Don¡¯t steal anything,¡± he warned her, only half joking. ¡°Nothok is a good guy. Um, a good dwarf, I mean.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t!¡± she said defensively as she put the tool back on the shelf. ¡°It¡¯s too rusted anyway.¡±

    When Mitchell got to the counter he saw that something was wrong. There was a large blood stain congealing on the scarred and pitted surface.

    ¡°Leth¡­,¡± he called out. ¡°I think we have a problem.¡±

    The thief padded up to him silently and saw the crimson pool of blood.

    ¡°Not our problem,¡± she said dryly. ¡°Our blood¡¯s still in our bodies.¡±

    Still, she took out her stiletto and Mitchell readied an arcane missile spell. He could hold it at the ready in the sevith for a short time but the longer he did so the more it would damage the stone so it wasn¡¯t advisable. He creeped forward scanning around until he spotted the body on the ground behind the counter.

    ¡°Oh no,¡± Mitchell said.

    A clearly dead Nothok was there lying in a much larger pool of blood. Before they could move behind the counter to investigate, Allora awakened behind them with a cry.

    ¡°Mitchell!¡±

    Both he and Lethelin jumped and turned to see the elf sitting up near the door where they¡¯d lain her. He raced back to her, knowing how disorienting it was to wake up after an intense healing.

    ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± he told her, kneeling down beside her. ¡°How are you feeling?¡±

    Her violet eyes struggled to focus on his. The healing had taken a lot out of her. Her cheeks looked a little sunken and she was developing circles around her eyes that hadn¡¯t been there before.

    ¡°I will be fine.¡± she said, her voice weak. ¡°How did we get away?¡±

    ¡°Revos showed up,¡± Mitchell told her.

    ¡°Pulled our fish from the fry pan, that¡¯s for sure,¡± Lethelin added from just behind causing Mitchell to jump. Once again, he hadn¡¯t heard her approach.

    Allora swayed and clutched her head.

    ¡°Here, eat this,¡± Lethelin commanded, handing her a wedge of cheese she had pulled from somewhere. ¡°Revos said you would need food.¡±

    Allora looked at it like even the thought of food would make her vomit, but she put it in her mouth anyway and chewed mechanically.

    ¡°Nothok is dead,¡± Mitchell said simply. ¡°I think Dakath killed him to try and slow us down if he didn¡¯t manage to stop us.¡±

    A pained look creased Allora¡¯s face but she nodded.

    ¡°His soul is with Denass now,¡± she said somberly. ¡°May she shelter and keep him.¡±

    ¡°I just hope he got our supplies ready before Dakath found him,¡± Lethelin said.

    Allora made a move to stand and Mitchell helped her up. She swayed, then stumbled into a shelf, but Mitchell held her arm. Lethelin offered up a piece of jerky, almost shoving it in Allora¡¯s mouth.

    ¡°Eat,¡± she said. ¡°Crazy fucking cambion¡¯s orders.¡±

    Allora jerked her head back again with a sour look on her face that confused Mitchell a little bit. When he¡¯d woken up after healing in the wake of his explosion days ago he had been ravenous. Allora seemed repelled by food. She didn¡¯t argue though. Instead, she yanked it from Lethelin¡¯s fingers and shoved it in her mouth, although she looked like she wanted to gag.

    ¡°We need to move,¡± she said after swallowing it down with a swig of water.

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Mitchell responded. ¡°Between the bodies piling up and the big battle in the middle of the street, I think we¡¯ve worn out our welcome in this town.¡±

    Moving slowly with Allora they walked to the back of the shop, stepping behind the counter and examining the poor old dwarf. He could now see what had caused the blood on the counter. The fingers on his left hand were missing, having been chopped off one by one. He had been tortured before his throat was slit. Allora stared at him for a long moment before her eyes shifted to his intact hand which was clutched in a fist.

    Prying his hand open she found the small quartz sphere with the six thin lines of gold around it. Allora picked it up almost reverently.

    ¡°You kept your honor, good master Nothok,¡± Allora said to the now-deceased dwarf. ¡°I will carry this with me and present it to a member of your clan when next I meet them. They will know of your strength. Your name will be spoken in the Great Hall and remembered.¡±

    She stood back up and they began to search the shop. They came across another body in the back. A young human boy of maybe fifteen. He¡¯d been stabbed through the heart and left to die. Mitchell remembered Nothok saying he¡¯d have to wake his lad to get their gear together and this was probably him. Mitchell¡¯s anger flared anew at the casual cruelty of the death of a boy whose name he never even knew.

    ¡°At least the fucker that did this to you is dead,¡± Mitchell told the cooling body.

    They continued the search. Luckily, Nothok was organized. He had bins in the back where he fulfilled orders. There were pieces of paper with lists of what the customer had requested and a zigzag little line next to some of the items on each. Mitchell figured out that the line meant the item was in the bin while those without the marker were still missing from the order. And there was a bin for a woman named Chell, which was the name Allora had given him. Most of their items had zizzags next to them.

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°Excellent,¡± Allora said as she reached into the bin to grab their new sacks. Instead, her knees buckled and she collapsed into Lethelin who caught her at the last second.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s hairy asshole but you¡¯re heavy,¡± Lethelin grunted as she staggered under the weight.

    Mitchell rushed to help her up, then suddenly remembered the vial. He fished it out of his pocket and gave it to Allora who was standing again but looked like she wanted to pass out.

    ¡°Revos said this would help keep you awake long enough for us to get out of town. Drink it.¡±

    Allora¡¯s fingers were cold and clammy when they took the vial and he saw that her brow was covered in sweat.

    The elf  popped off the cork, sniffed it and recoiled like a hand had reached up from inside the bottle and smacked her.

    ¡°It smells like clorvol shit!¡± she cursed. ¡°I am not drinking that!¡±

    She shoved the vial back to him but he caught her hand and pushed it back gently towards her.

    ¡°Please, Lora. We need to get out of here as fast as we can.¡±

    She glared at him but took it and, with a deep inhale, poured the dark brown liquid into her mouth.

    She started gagging almost immediately and reached for a water skin to wash it down. After a long pull, she sputtered and shook her head as if she could dispel the foul taste that way. Then her whole body went ramrod straight and she sucked in a deep breath. Her eyes were alert, pupil¡¯s dilated to an almost extreme degree, and he could almost see her heartbeat pounding in her throat.

    ¡°Sweet mother¡­¡± Allora said in awe. Her voice was strong once more.

    ¡°All better?¡± Lethelin said with a little bit too much sarcasm in her voice than Mitchell thought was necessary. ¡°Great, let¡¯s go.¡±

    They began to move much quicker now that Allora was in better shape. They transferred the things they needed most from their old sacks into the much sturdier and larger sacks that Nothok had provided. There was also a large bag which Allora said contained a small but sturdy tent that would serve them in the mountains. She had requested one big enough for four but now that Revos was not coming, they would have some extra space.

    She also lifted out one smaller pack.

    ¡°Put any provisions you¡¯re carrying into this one. It¡¯s a dimensional bag. It will hold all the food we need.¡±

    They spent the next few minutes organizing their supplies and distributing weight. After that that they went out back and found the yulops. They were essentially mules to Mitchell¡¯s eye but they had a much shaggier coat and a set of three horns that grew out of their heads. They were thickly muscled and stared impassively at the trio as they approached the stables.

    There were seven of the stout creatures in small stables. Some asleep and some that were idly munching feed from a trough. All of them looked at the trio with slightly dull looks on their shaggy faces. Allora went swiftly to each stall examining them and selected two she thought would be the best. She grabbed harnesses from the wall and Mitchell assisted with getting the straps belted around the beasts.. One was out of sorts at having been awakened so early and nipped at Mitchell several times but after some wrangling they were saddled and their packs secured.

    As they left the stables, dawn was creeping into the sky and there was the sound of commotion from the front of the shop as people emerged from their homes and saw all the bodies strewn about. Lethelin pulled up the cowl of her cloak and scouted ahead. Once she returned and gave the all clear, they led their beasts through the few remaining back allies and headed towards the mountains. As they crested a small hill about half a mile out of town, the sound of an alarm bell began to ring.

    Mitchell stopped suddenly and turned back to look at the sleepy little town. From his vantage point, he could make out the size it used to be, where roads had once stretched farther than their current length, and the depressions in the ground told of buildings that had once stood. He could see people moving in the streets, many of them headed in the direction of the fight. A fight in which he¡¯d killed a man.

    A hand touched his shoulder and he turned to see Allora standing there. Her face was unnaturally pale and the shadows under her now-glassy eyes were deeper. It was obvious she needed rest badly.

    ¡°Mitchell, we need to keep moving. They may send out a search.¡±

    ¡°I killed a man down there,¡± he said quietly. ¡°I¡¯ve never killed anyone before.¡±

    ¡°If you had not killed him, he would likely have killed you. Or Dakath would have. Or locked you in mage catchers and brought you to Milandris. You did not have a choice.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± he told her.

    Mitchell understood the necessity of it. He found he couldn¡¯t quite put into words what he was feeling though. There was a coldness in his stomach. He wasn¡¯t sure if he should laugh or cry. And he kept seeing the look of astonishment and fear on the man¡¯s face after the sword was thurst into his stomach.

    ¡°The knights have often been called in to conduct trials and executions in some of the smaller villages in Awenor. Villages that don¡¯t have a proper adjudicator or a justicar. While we endeavor not to take life it is understood that sometimes it is necessary.¡±

    Allora paused and followed his gaze down to the town.

    ¡°That man chose his path,¡± she continued. ¡°He was dead the moment he set foot upon it. You were merely the instrument of justice. You brought him to Denass¡¯s judgment. Ultimately, she will weigh the worth of his soul.¡±

    Mitchell looked from the town to Allora and she met his gaze.

    ¡°Does it get easier?¡± he asked her.

    She took a deep breath and appeared to consider her words before speaking.

    ¡°It should never be easy, Mitchell Allen. You have been called to a great task and you have accepted it but it will not come to you easily. You will have to fight for it if you want it. You will have to fight for the people of Awenor and for Awen herself. You will have to kill for that as well. But as long as you hold firm to the idea that you only kill when it is absolutely necessary, you can feel confident that it was justified.¡±

    ¡°And if I¡¯m wrong and I kill someone when it¡¯s not necessary?¡± he asked her.

    Allora gave him a long look and right as she was about to answer Lethelin¡¯s voice cut through the chill dawn air.

    ¡°Hey,¡± she called about thirty meters up the slope. ¡°If you forgot something back there I think it¡¯s too late to go get it. And this mountain isn¡¯t getting any smaller.¡±

    ¡°She is right,¡± Allora said and gave him an apologetic smile. ¡°We cannot afford to delay.¡±

    Mitchell nodded and reached for the yulop¡¯s lead as he turned and followed behind Allora. The shaggy pack animal snorted and followed without him having to put much tension on the rope. He already liked it better than the clorvol.

    As they walked Mitchell scanned the rising ground ahead of them. Once again, his gaze went up and up and up. Crossing these mountains looked impossible from the base. But he could just make out a trail that wound up between the foothills and into the jagged peaks that speared the sky and Allora said there were many small paths through. The wind whipped at his face and tugged open the fur jacket he was wearing. It was still too warm for it technically but he was assured it would cool quickly once they ascended further.

    He started humming the old Marvin Gaye song Ain¡¯t No Mountain High Enough which inadvertently brought a smile to his face. While his parents had been solid Gen Xers, his mom always had a soft spot for Motown. So mixed in with Mudhoney, The Smiths, Mazzy Starr, and the Violent Femmes, were the likes of Marvin Gaye, Bill Withers, Otis Redding,  Etta James, and, of course Aretha Franklin. He could remember his mom blasting Ain¡¯t No Mountain and dancing with his dad around the kitchen while everyone laughed. He missed her and her many faded band t-shirts. He missed his dad and his refusal to stop saying words like gnarly and no duh. He even missed his sister and all her New Age spiritualism bullshit. As he began the long, slow climb up this mountain he hoped not for the first time that he could see them again.

    The yulop made a small braying sound and, as Mitchell looked at it, he spontaneously decided to name it Marvin. Maybe he would name the other one after Tammi Terrell, who had recorded the song with Gaye. He didn¡¯t know if the other one was male or female, but it didn¡¯t matter.

    ¡°Ain¡¯t no mountain high enough, eh Marvin?¡± Mitchell asked it in English. The animal didn¡¯t respond. Mitchell looked away with a grin and saw Allora about ten meters ahead, picking her way over the rocks in the path, her dark hair blowing behind her like strands of black silk, and her long and powerful legs pushing her steadily forward despite her exhaustion. She was like a force of nature.

    ¡°That¡¯s going to keep me from getting to you,¡± he said, humming to himself.

 Part 2, Chapter 33

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    Whatever potion Revos had given Allora kept her on her feet for about two hours. Then, she collapsed. Tired and winded, the trio had kept conversation light as they journeyed higher through the foothills but the elf had begun to stumble more and more often as the morning wore on. Still, she insisted that they needed to get as much distance between them and the carnage in their wake as they could. A town that size wouldn¡¯t have any constabulary to speak of, and likely hadn¡¯t seen a squad of Scorpion Guards in weeks, so a search party was unlikely, but it was best to not take chances.

    After the tenth time of her going down to a knee as she stumbled, Mitchell was about to insist they stop when she saved him the trouble. This time Allora fell forward onto both hands. She put her feet under her to stand up but they slid out from under her on the loose gravel and she collapsed to the dirt unable to rise again.

    ¡°Lethelin!¡± Mitchell called ahead to the small woman who was about twenty meters ahead as he rushed to Allora¡¯s unmoving form.

    Mitchell rolled her over noting a small cut above her left eye where it had been sliced by some sharp bit of rock. She didn¡¯t stir when he lifted her.

    ¡°Lora?¡±

    Mitchell pushed some wayward strands of hair out of her shockingly pale face which he now saw was covered in sweat. Her skin was clammy to the touch.

    Lethelin, her yulop in tow, arrived and looked down at the unconscious paladin. She had a sour look on her face.

    ¡°That woman is as stubborn as a reef carp,¡± the thief said with a huff.

    Mitchell gave her a puzzled look.

    ¡°It¡¯s a large fish that lives in reefs on the coast. They¡¯re delicious but almost no one tries to catch them. Not worth the trouble. They thrash about for hours after they¡¯re dead. I¡¯ve heard some even thrash for days. By the time they stop moving, the meat is usually bad.¡±

    Mitchell chuckled.

    ¡°That does sound like our girl,¡± he said. ¡°Can you find us a place out of the wind to rest? We¡¯ll let her sleep for a few hours and push on when she wakes up.¡±

    Lethelin nodded and handed over her waterskin indicating he should give it to Allora. She hooked her yulop¡¯s leash to a bush and set off back up the slope. Mitchell opened up the water skin and tilted it into Allora¡¯s mouth, letting only a few drops in. She swallowed automatically and her eyes fluttered open, struggling to focus. Finally, they settled on his face and then a pained expression twisted her features.

    ¡°Father! I failed! I am so sorry!¡± Allora croaked. Her voice was raspy and weak. ¡°I tried to save Davrys but he was hurt and could not run.¡±

    Her outburst took him completely by surprise.

    ¡°Shh,¡± he said, trying to comfort her. ¡°It¡¯s alright.¡±

    ¡°They were coming and I could not¡­ I¨C¡± Her hand reached up and grasped his shirt. Tears were streaming down her face and her violet eyes were pleading for forgiveness and understanding. ¡°My bloodstone was spent and I didn¡¯t have the mana to cast¡­¡±

    Her whole body was wracked with sobs as the memory overtook her.

    ¡°It was the only way,¡± she said through the sobs. ¡°It was more merciful than what they would have done, father! I¡¯m so sorry!¡±

    She clutched him tightly and buried her face into his chest. Her body vibrated with the power of her grief. Mitchell didn¡¯t know what to say so he only held her tightly and whispered to her that it was okay. He felt the tears soak through his clothes as she cried. Mitchell didn¡¯t know what tortured visions she was seeing in her state, but he wished at that moment that he could take them all from her. He hugged her tighter as her sobs lessened, as if he could pull the bad memories from her through contact alone. Soon, she was still and her body was limp. As he relaxed his arms around her, Mitchell saw she was once again unconscious.

    As gently as he could, he laid her back on the ground, slid his pack and jacket off, and placed the jacket under her head in a makeshift pillow. She didn¡¯t stir again. He sat himself down cross legged beside her and took her hand in his. Mitchell studied her tear-streaked face for a long time.

    Lethelin returned about twenty minutes later saying she found a small overhang that blocked the wind and it was as good a place as any. Mitchell asked her to take ahold of Marvin and he reached down to pick Allora up. Lethelin arched an eyebrow.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t be easier to lay her over one of the yulops? Allora isn¡¯t exactly small.¡±

    Mitchell grunted as he settled the unconscious woman across his chest, cradling her to him.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be okay,¡± he told her. ¡°The yulops will jostle her too much.¡±

    Mitchell didn¡¯t want to say that he could already feel the pull in his lower back but he would carry her all the way up the mountain if that¡¯s what it took.

    ¡°Watch your step,¡± Lethelin said as she turned back up the slope. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of loose gravel here. The overhang isn¡¯t far.¡±

    Mitchell began to step carefully over the stones, rocks, and roots that broke up the path but thankfully Lethelin was true to her word. Up and over one more small hill, she led them from the path a short distance to an angular slab of rock that was jutting out from the earth. There was a recess just beneath it about a meter into the ground. As he got closer, he saw remnants of a campfire circle indicating someone else had used this spot for a similar purpose in the past.

    He set Allora down and covered her with one of their blankets, then he and Lethelin set about making themselves comfortable. The yulops seemed to understand it was a break and they settled down in almost a yin yang configuration and rested their heads on one another¡¯s rump.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen animals sleep like that,¡± Mitchell commented, observing the strange behavior.

    ¡°They live in the mountains mostly,¡± Lethelin said. ¡°They sleep like that to help conserve warmth.¡±

    They settled into a comfortable silence for a while and the only sounds were the rush of the wind and the rustle of the small bushes that grew all over the slopes. From this vantage point, Mitchell could see all the way out to the horizon. The desert that they had crossed looked like an ocean from here and the blowing sand and rising heat gave it the rippling appearance of waves. The sun was about midway towards noon and while he could still feel the heat as their little way spot was facing the east, the steady breeze coming down off the mountains at their backs kept the temperature manageable. The little town looked almost like a model at this height.

    Suddenly, Mitchell asked, ¡°What was it like, the first time you killed someone?¡±

    Lethelin was silent for a long moment before answering. Her fingers stopped picking at the hem of her enchanted cloak.

    ¡°That man was your first?¡± she asked finally.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Mitchell replied. He didn¡¯t need to ask who she meant.

    She inhaled and let it out slowly.

    ¡°His name was Sorvo De Halib,¡± she began. ¡°He was the son of a Varset merchant lord, although we don¡¯t use that term in Awenor. They¡¯re just merchants, normally. But if they make enough money and befriend the right people, sometimes they can buy the title.¡±

    Mitchell looked at her but she was looking off to the horizon as she recalled the memory, her face empty of expression.

    ¡°I had broken into the house to take what I could find. The family was wealthy. The Halibs oversaw the hunting of gretch sharks.¡±

    Before Mitchell could ask what that was, she explained.

    ¡°They¡¯re huge beasts that have been known to bite smaller fishing vessels in half. Incredibly dangerous and hard to kill but their hide is worth its weight in crowns and the oils from rendering their fat and bones are used in many alchemical recipes. But the Halibs¡¯ patriarch had developed a method to lull them in some way before the kill and it increased the survival rate of the crews that hunted for their family significantly. Before anyone knew it, they were rolling in crowns and controlled the whole shark trade.¡±

    She looked over at him and smirked.

    ¡°I figured they could afford to lose a few trinkets, so I scaled the wall and let myself in to liberate some of their ill-gotten gains.¡±

    ¡°So it wasn¡¯t a job you were hired for?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she wobbled her head. ¡°I was just there looking for some pretties. No one was supposed to be home, there was some big function that night at the governor¡¯s house. Just servants left behind and they mostly went to bed after ten bells.¡±

    ¡°So what happened?¡±

    ¡°I was in one of their offices on the third floor of their manor taking anything that glinted in the moonlight when I heard a scream from across the hall,¡± she said, her voice losing some of its former playfulness. ¡°I tried to ignore it but there was another scream and then a crash. Then weeping.

    ¡°I opened up the door and saw light from under a door on the other side of the hall. I could hear someone yelling and the crying was louder. I crept across the hall and, through the wood, I could hear someone laughing. A man. He said, ¡®You¡¯re going to suck my cock or I¡¯m going to break out all your teeth and fuck your mouth anyway¡¯.¡±

    Lethelin¡¯s hands balled into fists as she continued.

    ¡°The door wasn¡¯t locked, so I eased it open and saw Sorvo, the oldest son of House Halib, with his shirt off and pants loose around his waist standing over the crumpled and bleeding form of some serving girl. She couldn¡¯t have been but fifteen high suns old. He was only eighteen high suns, but he was big. He worked the boats and it had made him strong. He was closer in size to an orcish warrior than a human.¡±

    She saw his look of confusion and reminded him of the baker they¡¯d met in Besari.

    ¡°Oh, fuck,¡± Mitchell said.

    ¡°He wasn¡¯t quite that big, but near enough that it made no difference to the girl he was about to rape.¡±

    ¡°Her face was bruised and bleeding, one eye already swelling shut and she was clutching her ripped blouse to her chest. I could have turned and left. She hadn¡¯t seen me and it wasn¡¯t my problem but¡­¡±

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    Lethelin scrunched her face up as if she had swallowed something sour.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ Something about the way he was standing. Like he deserved to do what he wanted. Like her body belonged to him just because she took a job changing bed linens. It made me angry.¡±

    Lethelin looked at him then and he could see that she was expecting reproach for her actions but he only nodded.

    ¡°Anyway, before I knew it, Mira was in my hand and I¡¯d slipped up behind him and slid the blade right into his back pierced his heart. The big bucket of chum almost fell back on me as he died but no one came at the noise of his body hitting the floor.¡±

    She went quiet for a time, perhaps reliving the scene in her head.

    ¡°So, what happened then? With the girl?¡±

    ¡°Ah, well the sound of his body striking the floor broke the girl out of her paralysis. I rushed over and clamped her mouth shut before she could scream and told her if she wanted to get out of this without being hung herself, she would do exactly as I said. I shoved some crowns in her hand, told her to head to the docks and a tavern called The Ratway and speak to a man named Delvin. Tell him everything, tell him Alvi¡¯s apprentice sent her, and to do whatever Delvin told her to do. Once she ran off, I grabbed whatever I could stuff in my pockets and fled.¡±

    ¡°Did they ever catch her?¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± she said, grinning triumphantly. ¡°They put up a search for her but Delvin had her out of the city before dawn. He¡¯s a good fish. Doesn¡¯t take too kindly to people who rough up women.¡±

    Mitchell was glad for that.

    ¡°Oh!¡± Lethelin exclaimed. ¡°And in the investigation, it came out that the good master Sorvo Halib had a history of raping and abusing women but his father had been paying to have it covered up. Other staff came forward and, as the reports grew, it brought more shame onto the house. In the end, Lord Halib sold the business to one of his partners and fled Varset just ahead of an angry mob.¡±

    ¡°So, you brought down one of those merchant lord families?¡± Mitchell asked her. ¡°I¡¯m impressed.¡±

    She looked at him and blushed slightly.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to. It just sort of happened. I was only looking for some stuff to sell to pad my pockets and upgrade my gear. Running the Halibs out of the city was just a side benefit. But I found that killing that walking bit of river slug shit wasn¡¯t all that difficult. And I accomplished some good with it. So, I let it be known that I was available for that sort of work but I would only take jobs for people that I thought deserved it. People like Sorvo.¡±

    Mitchell paused to consider her words.

    ¡°And those men we fought in town?¡± he finally asked her.

    She gave him a long look, studying his face for something with her grass-green eyes.

    Finally, her voice flat and cold, she said, ¡°I have no illusions about what would have happened to me if you and Allora had fallen. Those men deserved it.¡±

    They were silent for a while as Mitchell thought over what she said. Yes, those men had attacked them. Dakath for sure had been a vicious and cruel son of a bitch, but the others were simply locals. Men he¡¯d hired, guys who didn¡¯t have much to begin with. Did they deserve to be killed in the street? Lethelin and Allora seemed to accept that as a matter of course. Allora had objected to Lethelin killing the guy at the inn who¡¯d been spying on them but he suspected she would not have objected to the deaths of the ones Lethelin had ended. As she had told him just a short time ago, they were instruments of justice. Lethelin had been the instrument of those men¡¯s justice.

    Mitchell knew he would be able to do it again if he needed to, but the idea scared him. He was used to a system of justice that did not tolerate vigilantism. He believed in that. He believed that it led to a more ordered and just society. It could be abused, certainly. Money sometimes mattered more than evidence and guilt but, on the whole, it was a net positive for civilization. So, what was he to do with this new reality? It sounded like they had courts after a fashion, and a sense of justice, but then there were battles and deaths like the ones that had happened that morning. In towns or villages without any sort of permanent law and order, was this just how things were handled?

    He was about to ask Lethelin more questions about how courts and punishments worked here but, when he looked over at the thief, he found she had nodded off. He couldn¡¯t blame her. Everyone was exhausted. They¡¯d barely gotten any sleep the night before having to flee ahead of the dawn.

    Mitchell could feel exhaustion pulling at him but he pushed it aside. He needed to be awake and alert in case Allora awoke. They needed to get some food into her as soon as she could chew. So instead of sleeping he fished one of the books out of his pack that Allora had purchased for him to help him learn to read. It was a children¡¯s story and, according to Allora, it told the tale of a poor human girl who got lost in an ancient forest after fleeing from her dragon overlords. She met a handsome elf prince who took her away to a magical kingdom that was hidden from the dragon¡¯s sight. Once there, she made friends with a band of adventurers that agreed to journey back to the girl¡¯s village and free her family from the dragons.

    Allora and Lethelin both had refused to tell him how it ended, saying that he had to learn to read and finish it on his own. Despite himself, he wanted to know.

    He opened the book to the first page and started sounding out the words and comparing the sounds to the phonetic cheat sheet that he¡¯d cobbled together with Allora¡¯s help a few days prior. It had a list of the letters of the Common alphabet and the corresponding English vowels, consonants, diphthongs, and digraphs. It was slow going but if Allora was to be believed, they could expect one to two weeks crossing the mountain and so he would have a lot of time.

    ¡°Nothing for it but to do it,¡± he muttered as he began the arduous process of sounding out the words. Thankfully, Allora had secured him a notebook of sorts for him to practice his writing and to make notes of words to review. He had started with those he often used in conversation and had gotten Allora and Lethelin to write them out for him. Over the next few hours, while the two of them slept, he hit the books.

    It wasn¡¯t until the sun had passed the zenith that Allora began to stir. Mitchell had begun to nod off himself and almost missed her first utterances but, as she groaned, his head snapped up and he was next to her in a moment, the food he had prepared already in hand.

    ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± Mitchell said as her eyes cracked open and she looked around in a mild state of panic. She was still sweating and her black silken hair was matted to her forehead. ¡°Drink first.¡±

    Upon seeing him, she settled and accepted the waterskin without comment and drinking greedily and swallowing in large gulps until she pulled it away gasping.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± she told him as she handed it back.

    ¡°Food,¡± he said simply, and handed her some dried fruit and nuts.

    Once again, she seemed to turn her nose up at the offering, but placed it in her mouth without comment.

    ¡°How long did I sleep?¡± she asked him at last.

    Her voice was weak and thready, but on the whole it was an improvement.

    ¡°A few hours,¡± Mitchell replied. ¡°Not too bad. It¡¯s likely to be dark soon, I¡¯m thinking it would be better if we stayed here. No one has come up the path after us so I think we¡¯re safe.¡±

    Allora nodded.

    ¡°You may be right. Hiking the slopes at night is not wise.¡±

    They sat in silence for a few moments as he let her eat undisturbed. Her eyes had a faraway look in them as she stared off into the darkening horizon. It was clear she hated the food but she continued to consume it without complaint. Mitchell didn¡¯t know why she wouldn¡¯t like it as it was no different than the rations they¡¯d been eating for weeks, but he thought maybe she was just tired of the simple fare.

    Mitchell wanted to ask her about her outburst on the trail but felt like it wasn¡¯t the right time. If she had a memory of it, she didn¡¯t show it and she was under enough strain as it was. Whatever burden she was carrying it wasn¡¯t the right time to try and relieve her of it.

    ¡°Oh, I almost forgot,¡± he told her suddenly.

    Reaching into the pouch at his waist he pulled out the three small stones that Dakath had thrown on the ground to taunt Allora before the fight.

    When Allora saw them, she went still. Then, almost reverently, she reached out and took them into her pale hands. He saw her eyes begin to water but that was all the emotion she betrayed. One by one, she brought each stone to her lips then her forehead and whispered the same prayer.

    ¡°Denass, mother of darkness and watcher of souls, protect this warrior who died defending your child. Please tell them that hope is not lost and that one remains.¡±

    Only when Allora had repeated the ritual for each stone did a single tear drip down from her eye. She cradled them in her palm for a moment, then closed her fist over them, squeezing so tightly Mitchell saw her knuckles turn white. Then she reached for her pack and tucked them into a side pocket.

    ¡°Thank you, Mitchell Allen,¡± she said. ¡°I am glad you brought them.¡±

    ¡°What are they?¡±

    ¡°They are the stones that are set into the pommel of the swords the Onyx Knights carry. They are pieces of Awen. The swords are soul bonded and will serve none but the one who was bonded to it. Most knights are buried or entombed with their blades. They cannot be passed on or used by any other hand. For Dakath to have these stones means he killed three Onyx Knights.¡±

    Mitchell glanced at the sword that lay by her side and which had been wrapped again to hide the stone.

    ¡°Well, he¡¯s dead now. If I ever see Revos again, I will have to thank him,¡± Mitchell said.

    ¡°As will I,¡± Allora said with a mournful note in her voice. ¡°I am ashamed to say I misread him. I thought him nothing more than a scoundrel who served only himself. But, while he is that, there was more to him than I first saw. I owe him a debt. We all do.¡±

    Mitchell already had the impression that one¡¯s word here¨Cone¡¯s honor¨Ccarried more weight than it did for most people back home. His mind dredged up language like ¡®oath breaker¡¯ from the fantasy books he used to read. When Allora told him they all owed him a debt, Mitchell got the sense that it was deeper than a simple ¡®I¡¯ll pick up the tab next time, bro!¡¯. He recalled the way Lethelin had sworn to help them in their quest. It had been serious. Seeing the look on Allora¡¯s face when she talked about owing a debt to the cambion, Mitchell knew he needed to take it seriously, too.

    ¡°I agree,¡± he said in response. ¡°Lethelin and I did pretty well against the men but you were right that we stood no chance against Dakath.¡±

    ¡°I am sorry I was not able to see you in your first battle,¡± she told him. A hint of a smile played at her lips. ¡°But I am pleased you are not dead.¡±

    He gave her a gracious nod that was only a little sarcastic.

    ¡°Me, too,¡± Mitchell told her with a chuckle. ¡°But I had a good teacher.¡±

    Mitchell reached out and took her hand in his and she interlaced her long fingers between his own. He could feel the callouses on her palm and the strength in her grip.

    ¡°I thought¡­¡± he began but his voice trailed off. ¡°I thought I was going to lose you. When you went down and didn¡¯t get up. Dakath wrapped Lethelin and me up in a spell, I think the same one you used on Nothok. We couldn¡¯t get to you. I thought I was about to watch you die.¡±

    Despite himself, Mitchell felt his chest begin to tighten and his eyes started to sting. He squeezed her hand tighter.

    ¡°I can¡¯t lose you, Lora. None of this means anything unless you are with me.¡±

    Mitchell looked at her, searching her face, her eyes. Hoping. He thought he saw her begin to smile but it was gone and her trademark look of stoic resolve was back in place. Less imposing now since she looked so sickly, but there nonetheless.

    ¡°Listen to me, Mitchell Allen,¡± she said, giving him a stern look. ¡°If I should fall, you must go on without me. This is bigger than one person. Get to the palace in Lorivin. Find a way. Sit upon the Onyx Throne and complete the bond with Awen. Protect her and protect the people. Drive out Milandris and his men. Swear to me that you will do as I ask.

    ¡°Lora, I¨C¡±

    She cut him off.

    ¡°Swear it! By the light of Stollar, swear it.¡±

    Mitchell wanted to scream at her, the damn stubborn elf. He had seen it! For just the barest of moments, he had seen it, but she had walled herself off again. He thought about ordering her, as the future king, to admit her feelings for him but he cast that aside almost as soon as he thought it. It would be childish and he knew it.

    Instead, he pulled his hand out of hers and for a second her fingers didn¡¯t loosen, but she relaxed her grip. Mitchell looked out at the eastern horizon and saw all was shadow. The sun had dipped behind the mountains and only the faintest glimpse of daylight could still be seen.

    ¡°I¡¯m not standing in the sun,¡± he told her, his voice hard.

    ¡°Swear it to me, then.¡±

    Mitchell stood up and glared down at her. He could see the sunlight. That would have to do.

    ¡°I, Mitchell Allen, swear it, by Stollar¡¯s light. If you should fall, I will push on and try to make it to the palace and complete the bond. And I swear it to you, Allora De Annen, daughter of Travalor Ne Annen, Lord Captain of the Onyx Knights, and protector of Awen. It will be as my lady commands.¡±

    Mitchell almost spat those last words.

    ¡°Satisfied?¡±

    In the fading light he could see that her eyes were wet once again but she only nodded, her lips pressed together so tightly they had lost almost all color. Mitchell turned on his heel and stormed off.

    ***

    Lethelin watched Mitchell stomp down the hill and out of sight. Now that she was awake, her knack would be in effect and Allora would have mostly forgotten about her. Mitchell clearly had. Still, she was only a meter away from the prone knight and, if Allora had bothered to look, she might have pierced the glamor. Much like the cloak that helped hide her movement, if one was close enough, the chances of being detected increased dramatically. But Allora didn¡¯t look.

    Instead Lethelin watched the woman¡¯s face twist into a rictus of pain and grief so intense, Lethelin almost went to her to comfort her and she felt her own eyes grow moist at having to witness it. Then, Allora began to sob. She brought her hand up to her chest¨Cthe one Mitchell had been holding just a moment before¨Cand, clutching it to herself, curled into a fetal position. She tried to stifle the sobs but a few choking cries still escaped her cracked lips and her body shuddered with the effort.

    Lethelin looked away, stunned and embarrassed, and tried to blink her own tears away. This was too raw and too personal. She didn¡¯t want to see anymore but if she moved Allora would detect her. So, the thief sat in the growing darkness hearing the last Onyx Knight weep into the coming night, and wished to be almost anywhere else. The sounds of Allora¡¯s heartache rang in Lethelin¡¯s ears long after the elf had passed out in exhaustion.

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 Chapter 34

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    The group awoke early and, though Allora was much recovered, she still looked sickly but assured Mitchell and Lethelin that she was fit to travel. About the night before, nothing was said. The tension was thick over the camp but luckily no one wanted to spare the energy to talk.

    Mitchell stared up at the immense mountains before them and couldn¡¯t help but feel daunted by the task. He imagined this must have been what those early settlers of the American West had felt upon approaching the Rockies for the first time. As a modern human, he had never had to deal with actually hiking a mountain range, he would just hop a plane and cruise the skies at 35,000 feet while watching a movie and drinking a Coke. Now, standing at the base of the so-called Skybreaker Peaks, he couldn¡¯t imagine there were actually passes through but the path led upward and onward so it had to come out somewhere.

    That first day was mostly quiet. The steady climb meant that they were all a little too winded to talk comfortably so there was only conversation about watching one¡¯s step or which fork to take. There were rudimentary markers at certain junctions and Allora taught Mitchell to read them whenever they came across one in case they were to be separated. He accepted the instruction without comment and she didn¡¯t try to make any conversation beyond that. Lethelin mostly kept to herself although Mitchell saw her glance at the elf more than once with something that looked almost like sympathy.

    Allora was steadier on her feet today but she still looked tired. Despite almost ten hours of sleep and plenty of food, the dark circles were still present around her eyes, which still had a glassy quality about them. But she wasn¡¯t stumbling today. Mitchell tried to recall how he¡¯d felt after his first big healing when the cekip had nearly blasted a hole in his head. While he had been a bit groggy the next day, like a mild hangover, he didn¡¯t recall feeling too badly. By lunch, he had mostly recovered. After a short stop for a meal that first day, however, Allora looked slightly worse if that was possible.

    ¡°Is something wrong with the food?¡± Mitchell finally asked her. He¡¯d watched her almost force the dried fruit that often passed for their midday meal into her mouth and it looked like she struggled to keep it down.

    Allora looked up at him, her eyes glassy, and seemed like she struggled to focus on him for a moment.

    ¡°I¡­ do not seem to have much of an appetite. The food is fine.¡±

    Mitchell, not asking for permission, leaned across and placed his hand on her forehead. He didn¡¯t know if elves got fevers but it felt like the right thing to do. Allora flinched slightly but she didn¡¯t pull away. Instead of her being warm, however, her skin was cool and clammy to the touch.

    ¡°Are elves normally cooler than humans?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she told him. ¡°In fact, it is the opposite. Our bodies run slightly warmer than yours.¡±

    ¡°Well, you feel cool,¡± he told her. ¡°I think you¡¯re sick. Should I try my healing spell?¡±

    ¡°That is not necessary. I will be fine.¡±

    ¡°We have a big mountain to climb and you need to be healthy. Let me try. I need the practice, anyway.¡±

    ¡°Very well,¡± she acquiesced.

    Mitchell placed his hand back on her forehead and began to reconstruct the minor healing rune he¡¯d practiced hundreds of times while sitting in the back of the wagon. Healing, like all other spells, could be cast outward from his body and physical touch wasn¡¯t necessary but, for some reason, people preferred the laying-on-of-hands technique. Just like how he didn¡¯t have to point his hand where he wanted his arcane missile spells to go but there was something psychologically satisfying about it.

    As he began to push his healing mana into her, he saw her wince. Then she began to shiver. Mitchell started to get the sense that something was wrong but before he could end the spell she groaned and pitched forward, vomiting up the little bit of food she¡¯d managed to eat. Mitchell yanked his hand back, dropped the spell, and stared in confusion.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s supposed to happen,¡± Lethelin said from her seat behind him.

    ¡°Something is wrong,¡± Allora panted, as she spat out the remnants of her stomach.

    ¡°What can we do?¡± he asked her. ¡°If the healing magic doesn¡¯t work, is there something else?¡±

    ¡°Are you sure you did the spell right?¡± Lethelin asked.

    ¡°Yes. I mean, I think so. The rune is pretty simple. It¡¯s only a first circle spell. Revos said it would be good for most minor injuries like cuts and sprains.¡±

    Lethelin got up and moved closer to study Allora who hadn¡¯t sat fully upright yet. She stuck out her hand and Mitchell saw there was a small laceration on the thief¡¯s palm.

    ¡°Try this. I cut myself earlier when I slipped on that bit of scree. See if the spell works.¡±

    Allora forced herself up and reached for the waterskin while she watched. Mitchell repeated the process and felt the magic flow from his sevith to Lethelin¡¯s hand and watched as the skin beneath the congealed blood pulled itself shut. Lethelin showed no signs of discomfort. Once it was done she splashed some water on her hand and washed away the flakes of dried blood to reveal fresh pink skin beneath.

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    ¡°So if it worked for Lethelin, why didn¡¯t it work for you?¡± Mitchell asked Allora.

    ¡°I do not know,¡± she said.

    ¡°What do we do?¡± Lethelin asked, looking first to Allora, then to Mitchell.

    Mitchell frowned and stared up the path at the mountain before them.

    ¡°Your friend in Awenor, Gilriel. Do you think she can help with whatever is wrong?¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Allora said, sounding a little out of breath. ¡°She is old and knows a good deal of magic and herbs.¡±

    ¡°And how long to get to her?¡±

    ¡°Once we are over the mountains, I will be able to say more accurately but¡­ maybe three weeks.¡±

    Mitchell felt a sinking feeling in his gut. Three weeks of hard travel and she was already barely eating. His healing magic didn¡¯t work and Allora didn¡¯t even know what was wrong with her. Lethelin was looking at him expectantly.

    ¡°All we can do is keep going,¡± he said at last. Looking to Allora, he continued. ¡°We¡¯ll take more breaks so you can rest. And eat as much as you can. I know it tastes bad but you need your strength. We¡¯ll make it.¡±

    Lethelin gave him a nod and kneeled down in front of Allora.

    ¡°Are you okay to keep going or do you need more rest?¡±

    Her voice had an unexpected note of concern for the paladin. It surprised Mitchell.

    Allora also seemed startled by the show of concern but recovered quickly and gave a weak smile.

    ¡°Believe it or not, I feel mostly okay. Just a little tired. I can walk. We should push on.¡±

    As she stood, Mitchell reached for her pack. She tried to object but he overrode her and tied it to Marvin. The placid beast looked mildly reproachful at the new weight but it would survive.

    Then, concern for Allora like a rock in his gut, they continued up the path.

    ***

    The next day they found signs of dire wolves. It started with the yulops behaving more skittishly and then Lethelin spotted a mostly eaten carcass of what was probably a cousin to Tammi and Marvin. Allora, having more experience in the wilds than a city girl like Lethelin said the kill was maybe three days old.

    ¡°Dire wolves are large, maybe as large as a yulop but much more powerful,¡± Allora explained. ¡°They hunt the lower slopes, primarily. They typically travel in packs of four or five and will attack small groups of two or three, preferring to keep superior numbers.¡±

    ¡°So we should expect to be targeted?¡± Mitchell asked her.

    ¡°Almost certainly. The three of us, plus the yulops, will prove too much of a temptation, I am sure. But while they are cunning and excellent climbers, they fear fire.¡±

    ¡°Sounds easy enough,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°Do we have any fire?¡±

    ¡°Check your spell book. I believe there is a second circle spell called fire bolt. You should begin to practice it. It is slightly more powerful than your arcane missile spell and has a chance to set a target on fire. If you can burn a few of the wolves as they begin their attack, the rest may flee.¡±

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s balls,¡± Lethelin swore and glanced nervously up at the rocks around them.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you have to deal with that on your way into Iletish?¡± Mitchell asked her.

    ¡°I traveled with a caravan over the southern road,¡± she explained. ¡°I was tracking Ivaran. I wasn¡¯t fool enough to cross the mountains and I expected to travel back to Awenor the same way I came.¡±

    ¡°The dire wolves are not the biggest threat, Allora said. ¡°As long as we stay alert, especially after dark, we should be able to fend them off. As we go higher, we will have to contend with the shadow cats and then the razor beaks.¡±

    ¡°Balls and hairy taint!¡± Lethelin cursed. ¡°That¡¯s just what I get for leaving the city.¡±

    ¡°Are those bad?¡± Mitchell asked, a little shocked by the intensity of Lethelin¡¯s invective.

    ¡°The shadow cats are the reason the wolves don¡¯t venture very high into the mountains,¡± Allora nodded as she explained. ¡°They are ferocious predators. Full grown ones can be as intelligent as a person in their own way. Some grow as long as three meters and nearly as tall. They are also magical and have the ability to disguise their true location.¡±

    ¡°You think they¡¯re coming at you from one direction but really they¡¯re behind you!¡± Lethelin said. ¡°I saw one once at a high sun festival when I was a girl. It was pitted against two giant scorpions in the arena. I had nightmares for a week.¡±

    ¡°Lethelin is correct,¡± Allora said. ¡°Full-grown males are large enough to take down a clorvol. They are nocturnal, relying on the darkness to mask their presence and illusion to confuse their prey.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget about their tentacles!¡± Lethelin said sardonically. ¡°And they have six legs! Six! They¡¯re like something that crawled up out of the Nine Hells!¡±

    ¡°More than likely they came from the Fey Lands,¡± Allora corrected. ¡°But yes, their preferred method of attack is to distract you, then use their barbed tentacles to grab you, pull you off balance, then pounce and gut you.¡±

    The clorvol that had pulled them through the desert had been nearly twelve feet long and almost half as wide. It¡¯s jaws could nearly swallow a man whole and its hide had been almost as hard as stone. Mitchell didn¡¯t want to think about something that could take one of them out.

    ¡°A light spell or a good torch is usually enough to reveal the illusion,¡± Allora added as if she was trying to offer comfort. ¡°The illusion will cast no shadow. But you might only have seconds to cast it before the cat strikes. And they are solo hunters so we will only likely have to deal with one at a time.

    Mitchell was almost afraid to ask, but he did anyway. ¡°And the razor beaks?¡±

    ¡°Large flying creatures. They have the head and wings of a bird of prey but the lower body of a cat. Their claws can shred stone as easily as flesh and their beaks can punch through steel plate armor like it was paper. They can carry off a fully-grown man or a jivi with little difficulty. And they are quite fond of feasting on shadow cats. They prefer to swoop in on prey and drag it back up into the sky. Sometimes they will drop their catch on the rocks to finish the job. They are somewhat awkward on the ground. As long as we keep our eyes on the sky when we are in the higher passes, we should be alright.

    ¡°Fucking hell,¡± Mitchell muttered in English.  Then, switching back to Common, he asked. ¡°Death from the shadows or death from above. Is there anything here that won¡¯t try to kill us and eat us?¡±

    Allora thought for a minute, then scratched Tammi¡¯s chin, which earned an appreciative chuffing sound from the beast. ¡°The yulops,¡± she added with a small grin which looked a little ghostly on her pale face.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s hairy asshole,¡± Mitchell muttered, before thinking about it. Allora, having already heard him curse once, only chuckled but it took a good two or three minutes for Lethelin to stop laughing.

    That bit of levity was the last one they would have for several days.

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 Chapter 35

    The first pack of wolves made their move that very evening. The three travelers had found a small cave to shelter in which, like that of the first night on the lower slopes, had been used as a camping place before. They were just getting settled when two of the animals charged the entrance. Mitchell was laying out his bedroll and looked up as Lethelin uttered a cry and saw her fall back, narrowly avoiding the wolf¡¯s massive jaw as it snapped at her head. Immediately, everyone was in a panic. The yulops bolted for the back of the small cave, bleating like mad, and Mitchell had his sword out with his other hand summoning his barely learned fire bolt spell. Naturally, it failed as he tried to cast it before the rune was firm in his mind. He felt the unpleasant, almost electrical, shock of the spell losing cohesion and he forced himself to ignore it as he stepped in front of Lethelin who was crab walking back to get away from the mouth of the cave. The sounds of the wolves¡¯ combined growls in the small space vibrated Mitchell¡¯s insides.

    To his left, he saw Allora hold up her hand to cast what was likely the fire bolt spell but nothing happened. He saw the flicker of her krisa as she channeled the mana but the spell did not form.

    With the element of surprise gone, the two beasts crouched and stared at their potential meal warily. With fur a mottled mix of grays and browns that matched the stone around them almost perfectly the larger of the two was as tall as Mitchell¡¯s chest and, as it growled, he saw its fangs were nearly four inches long.

    ¡°My magic is not working,¡± Allora said with a note of panic in her voice.

    Before Mitchell could respond, the one in front of Allora lunged at her which caused her to dance back and swing her sword which earned the beast a cut along its shoulder. It yelped and bounded backwards but a third member of the pack was waiting to take its place. Mitchell could see at least one more pacing behind that but the opening was too narrow for them to all crowd in.

    As the wolf surged forward, Mitchell brought his sword down in an arc but the animal was faster and dove to the side. He attempted the fire bolt again and once more that electrical shock ran down his spine as the spell lost cohesion.

    ¡°Fuck it,¡± he snarled, giving up on trying to cast the new spell. Instead, he switched to the arcane missiles and fired three quick bursts into the beast¡¯s side. Despite thick fur, it had the desired effect. With the first shot searing a whole through its coarse hair while the second and third penetrated into its body.  The wolf yowled and launched itself at Mitchell, bringing its paws down on his shoulders, the weight of the thing sending him staggering down to one knee as he dropped the sword and tried to keep the enraged animal from ripping his face off. Its fetid breath washed over him and the smell of rotting meat made him want to retch. Shoving back, he struggled to maintain his balance. He knew if he went down it was all over.

    ¡°Fuck, you stink!¡± Mitchell snarled back as he tried to twist the beast to the side and off of him.

    Grabbing thick handfuls of fur he twisted at the waist and tried to yank the creature off of his shoulders. With a scream of rage, he pulled the dire wolf to the right and followed it down, landing crossways across its upper body. Before the beast could rise again, he pressed his hand into the side of its neck and fired three more arcane missiles into the hairy flesh. There was an explosion of blood as the magic blasted a whole as big as his palm into the wolf¡¯s throat and he felt a searing pain in his hand. The savage beast kicked once, blood gushing out of its ruined neck, and then went still.

    Mitchell reached out, grabbed his sword and stood up just in time to see a new wolf come bounding into the cave, teeth bared and eyes insane with bloodlust. Before he could bring up his sword to meet it, a dagger exploded from the creature¡¯s right eye and it fell like its strings had been cut. He looked behind him and saw Lethelin there, arm still out and a look of intense concentration on her face.

    ¡°Nice shot,¡± he told her, still panting.

    She gave him a no-big-deal shrug but couldn¡¯t hide her grin of satisfaction, and they both turned in time to see Allora slide her long blade into the space between her attacker¡¯s shoulder and neck, presumably piercing its heart. The wolf let out an almost pitiful cry of agony and dropped to the ground. Its legs kicked weakly a few times and then it ceased moving as weakness overcame the elf and she staggered to one knee.

    Motion in the darkness outside the cave caught Mitchell¡¯s eye and he saw the first wolf that Allora had wounded was crouched low about a meter from the entrance staring at them. Its eyes almost glowed in the fading light and Mitchell could see a small puddle of blood pooling around the leg that she had sliced open. The animal looked at its fallen packmates and, not liking its odds, slinked off into the night.

    Mitchell went to Allora and with Lethelin under the other arm they helped her stand and walked to the back wall of the cave where the yulops were still skittering, their eyes wide and panicked.

    ¡°Watch her,¡± he said to Lethelin. ¡°I¡¯m going to get rid of the dead ones.¡±

    ¡°Do not go far,¡± Allora said from her spot on the floor. ¡°There may be more nearby.¡±

    ¡°I saw a small drop-off down into a ravine a little ways behind us. I¡¯ll dump them there.¡±

    Allora nodded but said no more.

    Over the next twenty minutes, Mitchell dragged each corpse back down the narrow path and dropped them into the chasm. He worried about the blood trail drawing more creatures but there wasn¡¯t much they could do about that. Meanwhile, Allora¡¯s condition continued to worry him. Why hadn¡¯t her magic worked? He knew so little about it that he couldn¡¯t even begin to guess at a reason.

    On each trip back, he gathered up as much wood as he could find. They weren¡¯t trees so much as bushes with delusions of grandeur but rain was sparse enough on this side of the mountains that they were mostly dry and should burn without much issue. His sword wasn¡¯t ideal for chopping wood but the bushes were thin enough that it doesn¡¯t cause too much of an issue. Since he hadn¡¯t mastered the fire spell yet, he wanted to have an actual fire going in case they did come back. Plus, the nights were getting colder as they went higher and the warmth would be welcome.

    As Mitchell returned with his final load of wood, he saw Allora was moving around, setting out provisions for their evening meal. Lethelin was tending to Tammi and Marvin who were calmer although, whenever a stiff breeze blew the scent of wolves and fresh blood into the cavern, their nostrils flared and they bleated plaintively.

    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± he asked her as he crouched down into the firepit and began to stack the wood.

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    Allora didn¡¯t answer for a long moment as she pulled provisions out of the magical bag they¡¯d picked up.

    ¡°I could not channel my mana,¡± she said quietly and wouldn¡¯t meet his eyes. ¡°I reached for it but I couldn¡¯t find it. It is like it is not there.¡±

    He saw her hands were shaking as she set down a small brown bag that had some dried meat. She noticed it too and clutched them together.

    ¡°Mitchell, I have never not been able to summon my magic. I do not know what is wrong.¡±

    She looked at him then and he could see cold terror in her eyes.

    ¡°So this isn¡¯t a thing that happens when a magic user gets sick?¡±

    ¡°No. Our magic is a part of us as much as our blood and bones. Even if I never cast a spell again, it would remain with me!¡±

    One of the stones in her krisa blinked and then went dark almost immediately.

    ¡°Do you see?¡± She asked him, panic making her voice tight. ¡°I cannot channel!¡±

    She was trembling all over now and sweat was beginning to bead on her forehead. She began to run her hands up and down her arms as if she couldn¡¯t get warm.

    ¡°I cannot channel, Mitchell! I cannot!¡±

    Her krisa began blinking again, different stones lightly up in rapid succession. She stood up and began throwing her arms out in random directions.

    ¡°No fire bolt!¡± she nearly screamed. Her left arm shot out towards the entrance, there was a weak flicker of another stone in her krisa but no spell. ¡°No pressure wave!¡±

    She turned to Mitchell and cast her right arm at him this time. Just like all the others, the spell didn¡¯t form.

    ¡°No comprehend languages!¡±

    She ripped the krisa off her head and was preparing to throw it but Mitchell jumped up and intercepted her arm. The effort to catch her almost knocked him back a step but he pulled her to him and held her close as she began to weep.

    ¡°My magic is gone!¡± she cried into his chest, her voice muffled. ¡°How can I protect you without my magic? How can I help you save Awen if I can¡¯t use my magic? What do I do?¡±

    She beat at his chest but there was no strength in the blows. He held Allora as she began to sag in exhaustion and he noticed the heat coming off her. She was burning up. He tried to let her go but her legs buckled and Mitchell had to rush to catch her.

    ¡°Lethelin, bring water!¡± he called as he lowered her gently to the ground. When there was no sound, he looked towards the back of the cave where the thief stared dumbfounded at the display. Her mouth was hanging open and she looked genuinely frightened.

    ¡°Lethelin!¡± he barked at her, perhaps more sharply than he should have, but it snapped her out of her daze. ¡°Water, please.¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡± she exclaimed and shook herself. ¡°Okay!¡±

    She nearly jumped over to the pack that held extra water skins and brought it to him. Mitchell uncorked it and placed it to Allora¡¯s lips. Her eyes were half closed and she was mumbling something indecipherable under her breath.

    ¡°She¡¯s burning up,¡± he said as his hand held her head steady.

    ¡°Look at her skin,¡± Lethelin said quietly, a note of fear in her voice.

    Mitchell did. Allora¡¯s skin had become so pale that it started to look translucent. He could see the veins in her cheeks and her lips had faded from a deep, healthy pink to a sickly pallid pastel.

    Mitchell formed the light spell in his mind and cast it at the wall above them. The small globe about the size of an orange formed in his palm, glided a few feet above and sat against the stone giving a bright silvery glow. He knew from long practice that it should hold there for about ten minutes or so before winking out. Now that he could see better, he examined her more closely. He pulled open one of her eyelids and Lethelin gasped beside him. They were still purple but had washed out to a muted lavender.

    ¡°What is happening to her?¡± Mitchell said.

    ¡°I¡­¡± Lethelin began but lost her words. ¡°I have no idea. I have never heard of something like this before. As far as I know, she¡¯s right. A magic user doesn¡¯t lose their magic any more than you could lose your head. If you could remove someone¡¯s magic then we wouldn¡¯t need mage catchers.¡±

    Mitchell propped Allora¡¯s head up and poured a little water into her mouth. She had enough awareness to swallow without prompting but she didn¡¯t acknowledge him. She kept mumbling something but Mitchell didn¡¯t understand it.

    ¡°What is she saying?¡±

    ¡°It sounds like Elvish,¡± she said. ¡°Sorry, but I only know a few words. Most people use Common but many of the races retain knowledge of the languages of their original homelands. We were all brought here from other places by the dragon lords, remember?¡±

    They were quiet for a time as they watched Allora stare at nothing and mumble in Elvish. Her voice got quieter and, finally, she drifted into an uneasy sleep.

    Mitchell felt Lethelin¡¯s hand grab onto his. He looked down to see her intertwine their fingers and she gripped him tightly. It was the first time she had touched him since that day in the garden. He looked at her face then and saw the uncertainty. Seeing Allora like this shook her. He remembered the way Lethelin had talked about the Onyx Knights when they were walking through Besari. She spoke of them almost like they were mythical figures. And as much as the two women clashed, Mitchell couldn¡¯t help but notice a fair amount of hero worship. Outlaw or no, the knights were as much a symbol of the strength of Awenor to the thief as they were to any other citizen.

    ¡°Mitchell¡­,¡± Lethelin said, her voice hesitant. ¡°What do we do?¡±

    He thought for a few moments.

    ¡°We stick to the plan,¡± he told her. ¡°We¡¯ll have some food, get what rest we can, and set off in the morning. Hopefully, Allora will be feeling better then.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t much but it seemed to calm Lethelin down a bit. She nodded and volunteered to finish getting their dinner ready. Mitchell dug out a cloth from one of their bags and wet it and wiped the sweat from Allora¡¯s face. She didn¡¯t stir.

    Without the wolves about to rip his throat out, he was able to focus on the fire bolt spell and actually get it to work, though it took several tries and the feedback from the spell losing cohesion was starting to give him a headache.

    Eventually, he got a few of the drier branches to stay lit and got a fire going. Mitchell sat next to Lethelin and they ate their dried meat and some cheese with flatbread as the flames crackled and the light danced on the cave walls. Behind them Marvin and Tammi had drifted off to sleep and were snoring lightly.

    ¡°What song are you always singing?¡± Lethelin asked him suddenly.

    ¡°When?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she admitted. ¡°But you are always singing songs when we travel. Were you a bard or some kind of musician back on your world?¡±

    ¡°Oh, no,¡± he said with a smile. ¡°No, but I grew up around music. My parents are big music lovers. When I was young there was always something playing on the radio or in the car. I learned to love it, too. Except for pop country. Fuck pop country.¡±

    Mitchell saw her look of confusion and realized that he had become so comfortable with Common that he was mixing English words into his sentences and he¡¯d lost her. He took a moment to give her a rough explanation of what a radio was and a car, but didn¡¯t try with pop country. He wasn¡¯t sure if she got it totally, but she seemed satisfied.

    ¡°When I got here,¡± he continued. ¡°Singing the songs helped me stay sane, I think. The music was like a link to my home and I didn¡¯t feel so alone. We were in the cages for weeks and I couldn''t talk to anyone so I sang to myself. I think Allora and Revos thought I had gone crazy.¡±

    Mitchell smiled at the memory of the strange looks they always gave him when he¡¯d break into a random song. The ¡®figoro magnifico¡¯ solo from Bohemian Rhapsody had been especially fun. He¡¯d even done a head bang ala that old Wayne¡¯s World movie until Dumb Fuck Two had smacked him on the back of the skull and said something threatening which Mitchell had assumed was ¡®shut the fuck up¡¯. He realized then that he hadn¡¯t really thought about his abductors in days and was surprised at that. At the time, it had been the most terrifying ordeal of his life.

    ¡°Will you sing me a song?¡± she asked, snapping Mitchell out of the memory.

    ¡°Umm¡­ I don¡¯t think I could sing one in Common,¡± he told her.

    ¡°That¡¯s okay. I think I¡¯d like to hear it in your language.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± he agreed and thought for a moment. Outside it was fully dark and the blackness beyond the cave mouth was almost complete. Beside him, Allora whimpered in her sleep. He felt the warmth of Lethelin¡¯s body against his. He put his arm around her, pulled her close, and she pressed herself tight into the embrace. Mitchell knew then what he would sing.

    ¡°This song is called Stand By Me by a man named Ben E. King.¡±

    With the fire hissing and popping in front of him, terrors unknown in the darkness outside, and the two women he had come to love on either side of him, he began to sing.

 Chapter 36

    Allora seemed a little more herself when she awoke the next morning. Mitchell and Lethelin had swapped off watches rather than try to rouse her, but there was nothing for it. Whatever was going on with Allora, she needed her sleep.

    ¡°Are you feeling okay?¡± Mitchell asked as she forced down her breakfast.

    Allora didn¡¯t answer for a long time as she stared at the dying embers of their fire.

    ¡°There is an empty feeling inside of me,¡± she answered at last. ¡°Where my mana was, it feels cold¡­ dead.¡±

    Her voice cracked. The elf brought her eyes to his and then quickly looked away. Her skin had regained a little bit of color, but she still looked sickly. And her lack of appetite was beginning to show as well. She looked to have lost a kilogram or more in just the last two days.

    ¡°We¡¯ll figure something out,¡± he told her and tried to sound reassuring. ¡°We did alright against the wolves last night with just our blades and my spells. I¡¯ll keep practicing, and we¡¯ll get to your friend and find out what¡¯s wrong. It¡¯s going to be okay.¡±

    Allora gave a half-hearted smile, but he could tell she wasn¡¯t optimistic. Mitchell himself was more scared than he¡¯d been at any time since he¡¯d arrived. They had, at best, seven-to-ten days to get across these damned mountains and her condition didn¡¯t seem to be getting better.

    With Marvin and Tammi fed and saddled with their gear, they set off up the trail. They had all pulled out their heavier cloaks as the wind blowing through the passes had a distinct chill and Mitchell could see hints of frost in the deeper shadows of the rocks and crags.

    They marched on. Lethelin took the lead with Tammi, Allora was in the middle and Mitchell pulled up the rear with Marvin.

    The passes they worked their way through were at times so narrow that Mitchell had to turn sideways to squeeze through. At other times they opened up into what could almost be called valleys. This far down the slopes they didn¡¯t have to do much actual climbing as the passes were well-used, but occasionally they would come to a part that was washed out or a section that was covered by a rock slide where things got more treacherous. By the time they settled in that night, everyone was exhausted. Mitchell felt like he¡¯d hiked thirty miles, but, in reality, they¡¯d probably made it less than five.

    He ached all over and the girls weren¡¯t faring much better. He knew that the heart stone was helping to keep his body in peak condition and he would wake up mostly fine in the morning, but the others were having to do this without assistance. Mitchell needed to keep that in mind when he decided to encourage them to keep going or to rest.

    In the end, they stopped earlier than they technically needed to because Mitchell was expecting another wolf attack and wanted to rest as much as possible so as to have a good fire going before their assailants arrived. Allora had taught him the signs of the large beasts as they¡¯d walked and he had seen more and more evidence of their activity. They primarily came out at dusk, though, so they had a little bit of time.

    As the group ate a hurried dinner, Mitchell was scanning through his spell book looking for anything else that might help. He wanted something that would help them make fortifications. When he explained to Allora what he was looking for, she said that most spells of that nature were from the transmutation school and he didn¡¯t have access to that mana type.

    There were some other interesting possibilities, but they were complicated runes, and he didn¡¯t think he could master them in time to be useful. He was still struggling with the fire bolt spell, and that was only a second-circle casting. With a sigh, he put the book in his pack and went back to practicing the fire bolt while Lethelin scarfed down the rest of her meal and Allora forced hers down. Marvin and Tammi were set back against the far wall munching placidly on their oats. Once in a while Tammi would stick her broad, flat nose against Marvin¡¯s cheek and nuzzle him and he would respond with a rumble in his chest that almost sounded like a purr. It was kinda sweet, Mitchell thought.

    The spot they had found to rest in was better protected than the one they had left behind that morning. The opening was narrower and, with the size of the dire wolves, they would struggle to get even two abreast, so that should make it easier to defend.

    With Allora being in a weakened conditioned she was relegated to the back which didn¡¯t make her happy but she didn¡¯t have the strength to argue. Also, since she couldn¡¯t be healed if she were hurt, it was better to keep her protected just in case. Mitchell couldn¡¯t heal himself if he were hurt but he was stronger than he¡¯d ever been in his life and stood a better chance if the wolves got in too close.

    The plan was for Mitchell to try his fire bolt spell and burn the first one or two to make it in and if it looked like he was having trouble, Lethelin would assist with the stiletto and dagger. Without her rapier, she only had the option to fight in close. Mitchell didn¡¯t like either choice for her considering the size and power of the wolves, so he resolved to see none got past him.

    Once roles were defined and the plan settled, he stood about two meters back from the entrance where he would have a little more room to use his long sword and they waited. Lethelin was to his right just out of reach of his sword arm, and Allora was back towards the center of the cave near the fire looking like she was having trouble staying on her feet. She had tried to hold her sword up in the ready position but her strength failed before long.

    As before, it was the yulops who alerted them before the wolves made their move. Marvin let out a bleating whine as his large nostrils flared and Tammi was right behind. They both got to their feet and pushed themselves into the back corner and began to shiver.

    ¡°A lot of help you guys are,¡± Mitchell grumbled to himself as he turned his attention back to the entrance, already forming the fire bolt rune in his mind. At least they were good for an early warning system.

    The wolves didn¡¯t make them wait long.

    ¡°One just went past the entrance,¡± Allora said from behind. Her eyes were sharper than his, even in her weakened state.

    Mitchell hadn¡¯t seen a thing in the darkness, but he trusted her. He channeled the mana and held the spell at the ready. Holding it too long would cause additional damage to the bloodstone that worked with his evocation mana and cause it to degrade faster, but he needed to risk it. He needed this first fire bolt to go off correctly.

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    Almost like it had been invisible, the first wolf suddenly appeared in the entrance snarling with huge fangs bared and leapt at Mitchell¡¯s throat. He¡¯d been wound so tight that his hand shot forward automatically, and he released the spell. Thankfully, it held this time and a tennis-ball sized orb of yellow-orange fire appeared a few inches from his palm and shot forward and right into the wolf¡¯s gaping maw. Its snarl turned into a near-human like scream of pain as fire engulfed its face and charred the fleshy bits inside its mouth. Crashing to the ground, it started thrashing about trying to extinguish the flames and Mitchell almost felt sorry for the beast. That didn¡¯t slow him down, though. He executed a perfect lunge and thrust the sword between the agonized animal¡¯s ribs and gave it a twist for good measure. Its thrashing ended then as the smell of charred meat filled the cavern.

    Before Mitchell could celebrate, the second wolf came charging through the opening and he barely got his sword up in time to slash it across the chest. The thick fur blunted a lot of the force of the blow, but it yelped in pain and lashed a claw at his leg as it backed off. Mitchell felt lines of fire tear across his right thigh. He hissed in pain but slashed with his sword, trying to drive the animal back. The stone-colored wolf hopped away almost disdainfully and growled low in its chest. Mitchell could see its back legs start to tense as it prepared to lunge, and he quickly fired off another fire bolt which struck the wolf in the side as it tried to turn. It howled in agony and surprise spinning in a quick circle before fleeing back towards the entrance. Mitchell caught a brief glimpse of at least two more just outside, but neither rushed in to take their wounded pack mate¡¯s place. Watching it run off in flames appeared to have spooked them.

    Not wanting to risk it, Mitchell fired two more fire bolts into the night in quick succession. They weren¡¯t as lighting fast as his arcane missile spell was, but they did more damage overall. He heard a yelp, whether out of pain or fear, he couldn¡¯t say.

    ¡°Your leg,¡± Lethelin said from the side.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that bad,¡± Mitchell said, though he was gritting his teeth. ¡°Stay there. That last one running out may have frightened them off, but I don¡¯t know for sure.¡±

    He saw Lethelin nod from the corner of his eye, and Mitchell set his feet again and watched the entrance. He could feel the itch of the blood running down his calf from his wound, but he ignored it. For all he knew, the things were waiting out there for him to be distracted and they would try again.

    A minute passed. Then five. His arms and shoulder were starting to ache from the effort of holding up the sword at the ready. The night wind howled through the pass, and the sweat was starting to get uncomfortably cold in the chill night.

    ¡°I have not seen any movement outside the entrance since the other two ran off,¡± Allora said. ¡°I think we are safe for now.¡±

    Mitchell looked over at Lethelin and she nodded. Only then did he allow himself to sag and acknowledge the searing pain in his leg.

    ¡°Fuuuuuck that hurts,¡± he growled as he looked down to examine the wound. Three slashes, almost an inch across each, had been carved into his right thigh. Surprisingly, there wasn¡¯t as much blood as he feared. In fact, it was barely bleeding at all. When he commented on it, Allora explained as she pulled out some herbs from her pack to help dress the wound.

    ¡°We are getting closer to Awenor,¡± she began as she guided him to sit next to the fire so she could dress the wound. She pulled her belt knife out and cut away the pants around the gash, leaving his lower leg exposed. ¡°The heart stone will begin to affect you more strongly as you enter her lands. It channels some of her power to you. Faster healing is but one of the benefits.

    Mitchell grunted in pain as Allora finished wiping away the blood with a towel she had pulled from somewhere and smeared a wad of cold poultice that smelled like mint on the wounds. She ignored his protestations and set about wrapping his injury with sure, efficient movements.

    ¡°Your magic will be stronger as well, but the downside is that you will use your gemstones faster, so will need a more steady supply.¡±

    ¡°I always thought the monarchs got stones from Awen,¡± Lethelin said as she came back from calming Marvin and Tammi.

    Allora gave her a side-eyed look and finished wrapping the wound before answering.

    ¡°A common misconception. One I think the palace likes to keep alive to discourage troublemakers.¡±

    ¡°Does that make a difference,¡± Mitchell asked as he pulled his pack over and pulled out a fresh pair of pants.

    Allora looked at him with a wide-eyed look of surprised, then gave a weary smile.

    ¡°Sometimes, even I forget that you are not from here,¡± she said with a weak chuckle. ¡°Yes, it makes a very big difference. It is why Awen¡¯s sisters were hunted and killed. It is why Milandris hunts for her even now. Stones from an elemental¡¯s geode are priceless magical artifacts. In a sevith or krisa they can last years, even decades. A geode stone can be imprinted with the requisite mana type, so you don¡¯t need multiple gemstones to cast your spell. Just one geode stone for each type of mana you can channel. They can be ground into powder and used to make powerful potions. They can be infused into enchantments to increase their power. And much more.¡±

    Allora took a breath, the long speech having winded her in her weakened condition.

    ¡°But,¡± she continued, ¡°to more directly answer Lethelin¡¯s question, Awen has not gifted a monarch with stones since Lorrich Sunmantle, the third ruler.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t he the one who went mad and killed half the palace before he was stopped?¡± Lethelin said as she adjusted some of the logs in the fire.

    Allora winced but nodded.

    ¡°Yes,¡± she said with a note of sadness in her voice. ¡°Awen¡¯s stones in his krisa made him almost impossible to stop because they didn¡¯t wear out after repeated castings. Many people died that day.

    After a pause, she continued.

    ¡°After his death, the stones were given back to Awen, and she decided that, given the fragile nature of mortal minds, she could not risk giving stones to rulers in the future.

    ¡°But the stone you have in your sword is a piece of her?¡± Mitchell asked after everyone had settled back down.

    ¡°It is,¡± she said. ¡°But it is not able to channel my mana the way the stones in my krisa can. It serves a defensive purpose only. I can use it to either cast a shield spell or an absorb mana spell. It will not cast any other should I try to use it as such.¡±

    Mitchell had a memory of Allora intercepting some of Dakath¡¯s spells with her blade during the fight, and it made sense now. The magic he had flung at her had been taken in by the sword.

    ¡°Forgive me, but I must rest,¡± Allora said before he could ask any more questions. ¡°You did well with your fight against the wolves. Your skill is improving.¡±

    Mitchell gave her a small smile.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± he told her. ¡°And yeah, rest. Please. Leth and I will keep watch.¡±

    Allora nearly collapsed into her bedroll and was asleep almost instantly.

    Mitchell changed into a fresh pair of pants, which was made difficult by the stiffness developing in the wound, but he managed. He saw Lethelin pretending not to watch and gave her a side-eyed grin, which she returned. They both sat in silence for a while, listening to the wind blow outside. They heard the occasional howl of one of the dire wolves, but there was no sign that they would attack again. Maybe they had finally learned their lesson.

    ¡°She¡¯s getting worse,¡± Lethelin said suddenly.

    Mitchell was pulled from his thoughts and looked to see Lethelin staring at Allora¡¯s sleeping form with concern on her smudged face. They were all a little dirty at this point.

    ¡°I know,¡± he said.

    ¡°Did you see her eyes? They color is fading. I¡¯m not sure if she could have lifted her sword during the fight if she had tried.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Mitchell repeated, echoing her concern.

    ¡°We will find a way,¡± he told her. ¡°We have to.¡±

    ¡°Do you really think so?¡± Lethelin asked him. The look she gave him was plaintive and searching.

    ¡°One foot in front of the other gets you where you¡¯re going,¡± he told her by way of reply. ¡°We¡¯ve made it this far. We defeated Ivaran and his men, trekked across a desert, survived an assassin, and we¡¯re in the final leg of the journey. We¡¯ll get there.¡±

    ¡°I hope you¡¯re right,¡± she told him with a sigh.

    ¡°Me, too,¡± Mitchell said to himself.

    With those assurances, Mitchell took first watch and Lethelin went to sleep.

    Mitchell¡¯s watch passed without incident and, when the appropriate time came, he woke Lethelin for her shift. Some hours later, Mitchell was shaken roughly awake to find Lethelin leaning over him, her green eyes wide and panicked.

    ¡°I can¡¯t wake Allora!¡±

 Chapter 37

    ¡°That will have to do,¡± Mitchell said with a grunt as he tied the last strap securing the makeshift sled to Marvin¡¯s harness. The normally placid animal gave him a baleful stare as it shifted under the new weight. Tammi, seemingly also disturbed by this new development, bleated in a way that almost sounded sympathetic. Then she nuzzled Marvin, who commiserated with her.

    Both of them then looked at their owner like it was all his fault. These beasts were entirely too intelligent for Mitchell¡¯s liking and it was starting to freak him out a little.

    ¡°Will that hold her?¡± Lethelin inquired from behind him.

    Mitchell turned to see her at the cave mouth, the last of their packs in hand. The cold morning gusts from the overcast sky whipped her shoulder-length ginger hair around her head and made it look like those blood-red curls had a life of their own.

    He went up to her and relieved her of one of the heavier packs, and slipped his arms through the straps while examining his handiwork.

    The pull-sled was affixed to Marvin¡¯s harness just behind his front shoulders. It had taken him the better part of a day to scavenge suitable wood to build it in this rocky terrain plus a few hours more trying to remember how to build it. His Cub Scouting days were far behind him, but in the end, he¡¯d recalled some of the hazy survival lessons he¡¯d learned on those weekend camping trips with Troop 506 about how to get a wounded friend out of the wilderness.

    The sled consisted of two poles about three-and-a-half meters long that had been laid across each other to form an ¡®X¡¯ with another lashed to the bottom to brace it, creating a triangle on the lower portion of the frame. Then a series of smaller poles had been lashed at even intervals across until reaching the center. The top of the ¡®X¡¯, the open triangle, had been secured to Marvin¡¯s harness and an unconscious Allora lay unmoving upon it.

    ¡°It should,¡± he told her. ¡°It¡¯s a simple but sturdy device. Depending on how bad the trail gets, I may have to carry her through some of it. But the sled can bear it. I¡¯m more worried about Marvin. He doesn¡¯t seem to like the weight too much.¡±

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry about him,¡± she said with a small laugh. ¡°He might complain, but yulops are strong. I could hop on that thing with her and he would barely notice.¡±

    Mitchell eyed she donkey-sized creature uncertainly.

    ¡°They don¡¯t look that tough.¡±

    Lethelin walked over to Marvin and scratched him behind the ears, which the animal leaned into.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine, won¡¯t you, Mal-bin?¡± she asked the pack animal with a saccharine tone. ¡°Even if the big foreigner gave you a weird name.¡±

    Lethlin had trouble pronouncing the English ¡®R¡¯ and ¡®V¡¯ sound. Mitchell noticed that Allora had shown the same difficulty.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with Marvin¡¯s name,¡± he said defensively. ¡°It fits him.¡±

    Lethelin didn¡¯t reply but gave him one of her playful smiles. However, her grin dropped away as she went to the back of the pull-sled and checked over Allora once more.

    Allora had all the extra blankets tied around her to keep her warm and cushion her body against the poles. She looked like a mummy, with just her pale face exposed to the air. Her breaths were quick and shallow and her skin had an almost glassy sheen to it. Her eyes had almost completely faded of their color and her pupils were contracted to little more than pin pricks. Nothing they¡¯d done to try and rouse her worked. Her body went from freezing cold to burning up at random times. The stones in her krisa flickered occasionally although no spells manifested. All they could do was get her to swallow water. That reflex seemed to work but there was no getting food down her throat.

    Mitchell felt a spine-chilling spike of fear seeing her tied and helpless as a babe. He had to find a way to save her. He couldn¡¯t lose her now. Not after they¡¯d gone through so much. And then there was Lethelin to think of. She¡¯d hitched her wagon to his, had sworn an oath to help him fulfill his mission and that responsibility was resting heavier on his shoulders every day. He was totally out of his depth on this but didn¡¯t see any way free of it. It had been something of a shock for him to realize how much he¡¯d been relying on Allora¡¯s strength up to now. Her granite-hard will, her complete faith in her mission, had kept him going. Now that she was essentially an invalid, Lethelin was looking to him to lead them and Mitchell had to find a way.

    Up to this point in his life, he¡¯d never lead anything more crucial than planning meetings and the occasional weekend getaway with his friends. Now he was in a strange world crossing a mountain range with an unconscious elf and a human assassin trying to make it to a magical land where he was supposed to be king. They didn¡¯t cover this when he was getting his certifications in Google Data Analytics. Like it or not, though, the task was his. If Mitchell didn¡¯t find a way, then they were all going to die.

    ¡°Are you ready?¡±

    Lethelin straightened after pouring a little bit of water into Allora¡¯s mouth. She looked forward up the narrow path that twisted out of sight around forty meters up the slope.

    ¡°What was it you said,¡± she asked him, ¡°about a foot getting you where you''re going?¡±

    ¡°One foot in front of the other gets you where you''re going,¡± he told her, repeating the old aphorism he¡¯d picked up from a book when he was a kid.

    Mitchell was suddenly glad his parents hadn¡¯t let him have a smartphone until he was seventeen. He had a lot of information to draw from thanks to all the books he¡¯d read growing up.

    ¡°Yeah, that one,¡± she replied, looking back at him. ¡°People in Varset usually say, ¡®The fish isn¡¯t going to hook itself¡¯. Same meaning, I think.¡±

    Mitchell chuckled.

    ¡°Yeah, sounds close enough.¡±

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    Lethelin looped Marvin¡¯s lead in her hand and began to walk, the yulop following her with only a mild grunt at the new weight. As Lethelin had said, he didn¡¯t seem to be struggling with it at all.

    Mitchell gave Tammi a wry look.

    ¡°Was he faking the whole time?¡± he asked the placid female.

    She looked up at him, and he could swear he saw amusement in the animal¡¯s deep brown eyes.

    ¡°Cheeky fucker,¡± he said, laughing to himself as he began to follow.

    ***

    The next two days were grueling. As the path became more treacherous, they had to go slower to navigate with the pull-sled. This cost them time they didn¡¯t have. The temperature dropped significantly and the air became thinner. As a result, both Mitchell and Lethelin got more winded which hampered them further. The only good thing was that the dire wolves had learned to leave them alone. They suffered one more attack the third night where they had killed two more and wounded one seriously but they animals didn¡¯t return the next day.

    There was little talk in the camp at night. Both of them were too tired. Meals were a mechanical affair that needed to be done before they could sleep. The tent became necessary as the weather grew too cold to sleep exposed to the air. Only the yulops seemed unaffected.

    Mitchell came up with the idea to mash some of their vegetables into the water they were able to get Allora to drink, to make a somewhat lumpy broth. Lethelin had made a face but it had worked. They¡¯d managed to get some calories into Allora which seemed to help.

    That fifth night, while Mitchell was on watch, he heard a noise behind him and turned to see Allora sitting up, her eyes open and silvery white. All color had long faded from them. Her face was as pale as bone china, the veins in her cheeks a web of faded blue lines. Her once luscious lips were thin and hard now, the color gone. She was thin to the point of emaciation.

    ¡°Allora!¡± Mitchell exclaimed. ¡°You¡¯re awake!¡±

    She didn¡¯t respond. She didn¡¯t move at all, simply stared at nothing.

    Mitchell crawled to her and reached out to check her temperature. He didn¡¯t know what else to do. But before his hands reached forehead, she seized his wrist in a grip like iron. She¡¯d moved faster than he could see. Where her skin touched his he felt an icy chill begin to spread. He tried to pull away but she held him fast.

    Suddenly, Allora inhaled sharply and her body shuddered in what Mitchell could only describe as ecstasy.

    ¡°Moooore,¡± she hissed through clenched teeth. ¡°Need moooorrrrrre!¡±

    ¡°Lora what are you¨C?¡± Mitchell began to say before her other hand reached up grabbed the back of his neck. That icy chill began to spread down his neck.

    ¡°Allora let me go!¡±

    Mitchell strained against her grip but she was shockingly strong.

    ¡°I neeeed it, Mitchell!¡± Allora begged, her voice high and raspy as she pleaded. ¡°I neeeeeed mooooooooore!¡±

    The cold was entering his chest now, and something deep inside warned him of danger. She was pulling something out of him.

    ¡°Lethelin!¡± Mitchell screamed as he tried to pull away. Allora clutched at him hungrily, color finally returning to her eyes as she sucked life from him.

    ¡°Give me moooore!¡±

    The thief came awake almost instantly and had her knife in hand as she sat up, looking to the walls of the tent for danger. Unfortunately, the danger was inside.

    ¡°Help me!¡± Mitchell called out. ¡°Get her off me!¡±

    Mitchell was getting weaker as Allora drained him. The cold was sapping his strength and he could feel himself getting tired. Part of him wanted to give up and let her take him. It whispered to him that he should just lay down and rest.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s taint!¡± Lethelin cried as she went over to grab Allora and try to pull her off Mitchell.

    Between the two of them they got Allora¡¯s hand off the back of his neck which allowed him to put some distance between them. Lethelin pushed her down and sat on her as they went to work prying her other hand off of Mitchell¡¯s wrist.

    ¡°No!¡± Allora screamed. ¡°Give me more! More!¡±

    The elf thrashed about like a wild thing, swinging her free hand and kicking for all she was worth. Mitchell could no longer feel his right arm as the cold seeped into his bones. He could feel himself growing faint.

    ¡°Balls, this woman is strong!¡± Lethelin yelled as she pried the fingers back off of Mitchell¡¯s wrist. It was all he could do to keep sitting on Allora¡¯s legs as she thrashed.

    With two of her fingers pried open, Mitchell was finally able to pull himself free. He yanked back and tried to stand but immediately his legs gave out and he collapsed against the back wall of the tent. He began to shiver uncontrollably as he tried to get his limbs to work.

    In front of him Allora was keening and whimpering. She¡¯d thrown herself back on her sleeping mat and began to writhe, her hands moving over her body in an obscene way. She caressed herself over her clothes, grabbing her breasts and squeezing. Her back arched almost throwing Lethelin off as she moaned.

    ¡°So waaaarm!¡± she groaned. ¡°Give me moooore, Mitchell. Please? I need it so bad. I need you, Mitchell.¡±

    Her half-lidded pale eyes found his in the dim light of the tent and she reached out to him. She slowly sat up, her hand reaching between her legs. There was something otherworldly about her. As Mitchell looked into her eyes, he found he wanted to go to her. He wanted to give her what she needed. She was so hungry and Mitchell could feed her. Make her warm.

    ¡°Mitchellllllll,¡± Allora pleaded as her hand beckoned. ¡°Come to meeee.¡±

    ¡°Sweet fucking sun,¡± Lethelin said in horror.

    Mitchell barely heard her. He pushed himself up with his one good arm and began to crawl to her with legs that still didn¡¯t want to move right. He had to go to her. Mitchell had to give her what she needed.

    ¡°Hope this works,¡± Mitchell heard Lethelin say.

    From the corner of his eye, he saw Lethelin bring her arm down in a sharp swift motion to the back of Allora¡¯s head. The sickening sound the club made as it struck Allora sent a shock through Mitchell. It turned Allora into a lifeless heap as her body crumpled.

    ¡°No!¡± Mitchell cried, throwing himself forward.

    But then the spell was broken. He blinked and tried to orient himself. Mitchell could feel a fog clear from his mind.

    ¡°You alright?¡± Lethelin asked as she stepped over Allora¡¯s body to look at him. ¡°Because I can use this on you too, if you keep acting like a fish-brained idiot.¡±

    She waved the club at him and watched his eyes to see if he was back.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m okay,¡± Mitchell told her as his right hand broke out in the most intense pins-and-needles feeling he¡¯d ever felt.

    ¡°You sure?¡± she asked again, this time shaking the club in his face. ¡°I¡¯ll do it. Don¡¯t think I won¡¯t.¡±

    Mitchell gave her a tired smile.

    ¡°Really, I¡¯m okay. The effect ended when you knocked her out.¡±

    Lethelin watched him for a few more seconds, then turned back to Allora who hadn¡¯t moved. Her eyes were slightly open and she could see the silvery-white color just peaking out beneath her lashes. She had a line of drool trailing out of her mouth.

    ¡°What in Stollar¡¯s ball sack was that?¡± Lethelin asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Mitchell admitted. ¡°She was pulling something out of me though. Her touch, I mean.¡±

    Mitchell flexed his hand and massaged his forearm.

    ¡°It¡¯s like she was pulling the life from me. And I wanted to let her,¡± Mitchell continued. ¡°When she looked at me, it was like I had to go to her.¡±

    Lethelin looked at him and the silence was heavy. Neither one of them wanted to say what they were both thinking. Neither of them had the knowledge to help Allora and they didn¡¯t know how much time they had left.

    ¡°Get some rope,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°We¡¯ll need to tie her up, I think.¡±

    With Allora secured Lethelin took second watch. Mitchell was too exhausted after what Allora had done to him. As he tried to sleep, he couldn¡¯t get the image of Allora¡¯s writhing body out of his mind. The hunger on her face had been terrifying. It was a hunger for his life and she would have killed him if he had gone to her.

    As sleep began to take him, he said his first prayer.

    ¡°Vish,¡± Mitchell said to himself, ¡°if you¡¯re watching, we¡¯re running out of options. Allora believes in you so if you can help, now would be a good time.¡±

    Then his exhaustion claimed him.

    Some time in the pre-dawn morning the snowstorm hit.

 Chapter 38

    ¡°Mitchell, I¡¯m so cold!¡± Lethelin said as they paused to rest. ¡°Can we stop?¡±

    The wind was whipping the snow into near white-out conditions in the path and he couldn¡¯t feel his face. He hugged Lethelin to him and rubbed her arms trying to warm her. Their bulky cold weather gear made movement stiff and awkward. He rested his chin on top of her head as he felt her body shudder against his.

    ¡°We¡¯ve only been walking for a couple of hours,¡± he told her, trying to be heard over the howling wind. ¡°We have to get more distance before we stop for the night. We have to keep going, Leth.¡±

    Lethelin didn¡¯t say anything.

    ¡°Can you give me a couple of more hours? Can you make it?¡±

    He felt her nod.

    ¡°That¡¯s my girl,¡± Mitchell told her, hugging her tight to him.

    She looked up at him and he could see the frost on her eyelashes and some frost around her lips. He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

    ¡°We can make it. One foot in front of the other, remember.¡±

    Lethelin closed her eyes and nodded. It was a sign of her exhaustion that she didn¡¯t offer up any reply.

    Mitchell stepped back behind Marvin and checked on Allora. She hadn¡¯t awoken again and seemed unchanged since nearly killing him a few hours prior. After looking over the ropes that held the pull-sled together and checking on the yulop¡¯s harness, they pushed on.

    The path meandered back and forth, through switchbacks, down shallow ravines, over ledges, but always west. Mitchell never thought he would miss the heat of the desert they¡¯d left behind but as the bitter wind found every seam through his leathers and furs, he thought he would give anything to feel warm again. The arctic wind howled through the passes and snatched the air from his lungs, freezing him from the inside. He hunched his head and tried to keep his feet moving.

    While on the march he continued to keep an eye out for more caves that they might shelter in. He had to remember that his body was getting stronger as they crossed into Awenor, but Lethelin didn¡¯t have the same abilities. While he knew he had to push her, he had to be mindful of her limits.

    He had taken the lead that morning, as it allowed him to trample a path through the drifts with Marvin and the pull-sled that would make walking easier for Lethelin. As the morning wore on and the snow continued to fall, it came up to his knees in some spots. Still, Mitchell trudged on. He had a mission and he had two women depending on him to get him through to the other side.

    ¡®One foot¡¯ had become sort of a mantra as he pushed forward. He found himself repeating it over and over as his mind went numb to the exhaustion. He didn¡¯t know how long he continued in that way but a bleat from Marvin finally snapped out of it. The rope had gone tight in his hand and he turned to see Marvin stopped with his head down and his feet dug in.

    ¡°Marvin, what¡¯s wrong?¡± Mitchell cried back over the wind.

    Then he noticed he didn¡¯t see Lethelin behind them.

    ¡°Oh shit!¡± Mitchell said as he hiked back through the snow.

    He found Tammi about five meters behind them bleating in distress. At her feet, partially buried in a snow drift was Lethelin. She lay unmoving with Tammi¡¯s lead under her body.

    Mitchell scrambled to dig her out and then lifted her in her arms. Bringing her close he saw she had a fine layer of frost over her skin, but she was still breathing. Her eyes were frosted shut as well.

    ¡°Okay. Okay, okay, okay,¡± Mitchell said as he started back up to the front of the line. ¡°I got you.¡±

    He noticed then that Lethelin had tied the lead around her wrist.

    ¡°Clever girl,¡± he told her as he grabbed Marvin¡¯s lead. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of the cold. Stay with me. I got you.¡±

    It was another twenty minutes before Mitchell found a crack in a cliff face that was big enough for him to get into and that opened up into a larger chamber. Setting Lethelin down he rushed to get the tent up and get both women inside. The yulops hardly seemed to mind. He left them harnessed for now, needing to see to the girls first.

    Mitchell opted to use one of the few so-called fire bricks that Allora had ordered from Nothok. Rather than the trouble and smoke of a fire, the stone, about the size of a cantaloupe, could be activated with a touch of mana and would warm up the interior of the tent for up to five hours. Or so they¡¯d been told. It was now time to put that to the test.

    He pushed a bit of mana into the rune as the old dwarf had instructed and dozens of other runes began to glow. Immediately, heat began to come off the stone and the tent started to warm.

    He went over to Lethelin, who was still unmoving, and began to take her clothes off.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t how I planned to see you naked the first time,¡± he said as he worked to get her pants off. ¡°I had imagined something a little more romantic.¡±

    While he wanted to take a moment to admire her gorgeous naked body, he knew now was not the time. She had stopped shivering, which Mitchell knew was a bad sign. He threw the clothes into the corner of the tent and quickly took off his own clothes. Then, grabbing some of the blankets he¡¯d taken off of Allora, he lay down on the mat and pulled Lethelin¡¯s icy body to his, trying to warm her up.

    He rubbed her arms and her legs as best as he could, paying extra attention to her toes, and then wrapped as much of himself around her as he could before pulling the blankets over them both.

    ¡°Stay with me, Leth,¡± he whispered in her ear as he hugged her head into his chest.

    Her body was like ice but he ignored the chill as she pulled the warmth from him in much the same way Allora had tried to pull the life from him the night before. The stone continued to work and, after maybe fifteen minutes, the inside of their tent was, while not exactly warm, comfortable compared to the arctic conditions outside. The thick hide worked well enough, combined with their magic rock, at keeping the worst of the chill at bay.

    Mitchell knew he needed to check on the yulops but Lethelin took priority. She began to shiver again, and Mitchell took that as a good sign. Despite himself, he fell asleep, her nude body pressed against his.

    Sometime later, a voice broke through his slumber.

    ¡°I usually expect at least a nice dinner before I let someone get me naked,¡± the raspy voice said.

    Mitchell opened bleary eyes and looked down to see a haggard looking Lethelin staring up at him. Her body was no longer freezing against his. In fact, she was most pleasantly warm.

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    ¡°Sorry,¡± he told her. ¡°You were freezing. This was the fastest way to warm you up.¡±

    ¡°Is that what the men say on your world?¡±

    Despite her situation, she had enough energy to give him a wry smile.

    ¡°It worked, didn¡¯t it?¡± he told her and kissed the top of her head. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re okay.¡±

    Lethelin snuggled deeper into him.

    ¡°It would be better if you had taken a bath,¡± she mumbled. ¡°You smell like a yulop.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not exactly spring fresh yourself,¡± he said with a laugh.

    ¡°Fair,¡± she conceded.

    ¡°Speaking of, I need to check on them,¡± Mitchell said as he reluctantly extricated himself from the thief¡¯s embrace. ¡°I left them harnessed in the cave. They won¡¯t like that.¡±

    Lethelin groaned in disappointment.

    ¡°In a minute,¡± Lethelin pleaded against his chest. ¡°Let¡¯s just stay like this for a little longer.¡±

    Instead of answering, Mitchell pulled her tighter against him and felt her do the same. The feel of her soft flesh against his, the press of her breasts, her leg sliding slowly up and down his as they cuddled, was starting to affect him and, by the way she started moving her hips, he could tell the same thoughts were in her mind, half frozen and exhausted or no.

    Mitchell wanted her. He wanted her maybe more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. But he didn¡¯t want it to be like this. Not when they were half frozen and filthy on a mountain side and with Allora maybe dying and trussed up like a turkey just a few feet away. So, in a move that he likened to yanking out his own tooth, he slowly pulled away before he lost control.

    Lethelin felt him begin to shift and a small groan escaped her. He saw the look of disappointment in her face and realized he probably looked the same. He leaned down and gave her a soft kiss which she returned with a little moan and a whimper.

    ¡°When we make it through the mountains,¡± he told her as their foreheads touched. ¡°When we¡¯re safe.¡±

    ¡°Promise?¡± she said, her voice tight. He could feel her nails begin to dig into his back.

    ¡°I promise.¡±

    With an exasperated exhalation of profound disappointment she rolled off of him and starred up at the tent ceiling. Then, in a very amusing display of childishness, she kicked her feet in a little tantrum.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s hairy taint,¡± she blurted out.

    Mitchell couldn¡¯t suppress the laugh.

    ¡°Make us some tea and check on Allora, please.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± she complained, but started to sit up and search for her clothes. She sounded annoyed but she had that twinkle back in her eye.

    Mitchell threw on his clothes and decided he didn¡¯t mind that Lethelin watched him because he was watching her right back. They were both grinning at each other like teenagers by the time they finished.

    As Mitchell stepped out of the tent into the small cavern they¡¯d claimed for themselves, he noticed something was very wrong. It was quiet. Totally quiet. They had not been without the sound of wind since entering the mountains. It was an almost ever-present companion as they trudged up the trails. But now there was nothing. Not only that, but the small cavern wasn¡¯t freezing. It was almost warm, in fact. Then he scanned around and noticed the other peculiarity. Except for the small light he¡¯d cast inside the tent it was dark inside the small cave. There was no light coming from outside.

    As near as he could tell, Lethelin had collapsed around midday, and they couldn¡¯t have napped more than a few hours. It should still be light outside, even with the storm, and he should see it through the entrance. The entrance that was no longer there.

    Mitchell cast a mage light on the nearest wall and examined where he thought the entrance was. In the glow he could see the puddles of water where the snow they¡¯d trekked in had melted, and he saw the yulops standing placidly against a far wall, still harnessed, but of the entrance there was no sign. He walked up to where it should be but found only smooth stone. He could even see where the wall bisected one of the puddles of water. Mitchell pushed on it but it was firm, not an illusion.

    They were trapped in here.

    Mitchell tried to quell the panic that was welling up inside him. He took some calming breaths and began to scout around. He could hear Lethelin moving around inside the tent and thought about calling to her, but she¡¯d been through enough. He didn¡¯t want to startle if he didn¡¯t have to.

    He made a circuit around the small cave, throwing up a couple of more mage lights as he did. It was a rough oblong shape that tapered at each end, about ten meters long. The widest portion near the middle was maybe three meters across but the walls were rough and irregular. The ceiling of their little cave also narrowed to a sort of seam about eight or nine meters above their head. He could see the beginnings of some stalactites forming from the slow trickle of mineral-laced water that must run through the cracks.

    At the opposite end of the small cave where the taper came to a close there was a small crack just a few inches wide but that was it. Beyond it was darkness.

    ¡°Okay¡­¡± Mitchell said out loud. ¡°This isn¡¯t good.¡±

    Was this a trap of some kind? Were they being followed? But how? They hadn¡¯t seen any sign of pursuers the whole time. They¡¯d found tracks here and there from people that Allora had speculated were probably prospectors as they were about the only ones that dared the mountain paths while searching for ruins and relics from the time of the dragon lords, but they hadn¡¯t actually seen a living person.

    He mulled over the problem as he unharnessed Marvin and Tammi and gave them some food but no answer revealed itself. With nothing left to do, he crawled back inside the tent. He found that things were little better inside.

    Lethelin was sitting cross-legged next to Allora¡¯s bound form with a look of consternation on her face.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± he asked as he sat beside her.

    She looked over at him, her brow creased and her eyes slightly panicked. He noticed then that she was still holding the cup of tea in her other hand.

    ¡°She¡¯s not breathing,¡± she said.

    ¡°What?¡± Mitchell exclaimed.

    He shot his hand out under her nose, panic rising in his chest, and sure enough, there was no movement. Normally, her breathing had been a quick, harsh thing, almost a pant, but her body was still. There was no rise and fall to her chest, no rush of air from her nostrils. Then, he noticed her skin. It was warm. He touched her face and the skin, while waxy, was soft. She wasn¡¯t dead. At least, he didn¡¯t think so.

    ¡°What the fuck is going on?¡± he said as he pulled open her eyelids.

    Her eyes were still the same featureless white they had been when she¡¯d awoken briefly and tried to suck the life from him.

    ¡°What?¡± Lethelin said.

    Mitchell realized he¡¯d fallen back into English. He repeated himself in Common and crossed her arms and rubbed them absentmindedly. They stared at Allora for a moment, neither of them knowing what to do.

    After a moment of silence, Lethelin asked him if everything was okay outside. That¡¯s when he remembered the other oddity and relayed the information to her. She got up and went to check for herself. A few moments later he heard the sound of some colorful swearing drifting in through the thick hide of the tent.

    Lethelin came back in with a huff.

    ¡°What in Stollar¡¯s blue balls are we supposed to do now?¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Mitchell began, trying to organize his thoughts. ¡°We¡¯ve got enough water and food in the magical bag thing to last us several days. It¡¯s not too cold with the exit sealed off so we won¡¯t freeze to death, and there is a slight breeze coming in through the cracks, so we won¡¯t run out of air. If we¡¯ve sprung some sort of trap, we just have to hope that whoever set it comes to get us out of it.¡±

    Lethelin looked around the tent as if she could see through the material and at the encasing stone walls beyond.

    ¡°So we just sit?¡±

    ¡°For now. I don¡¯t have the kind of magic that¡¯s needed to try and manipulate stone and I don¡¯t think I would want to risk trying to blow it up with some higher level spell.¡±

    Lethelin started mumbling something under her breath.

    ¡°What did you say?¡±

    ¡°I said, ¡®Why did I have to get myself involved in a fucking holy quest!¡¯¡± Lethelin snapped. ¡°I should have stayed in Varset picking pockets and slitting the occasional throat here and there. But no! I had to go marching off across half of Tawadunn, meet up with the most wanted woman in all of Awenor, and fall in love with the next monarch! Now I¡¯m going to die in a fucking hole!¡±

    Her face had flushed red and she was gesticulating enough that she almost smacked him a couple of times. She blew herself out pretty quickly and sat fuming and angrily twisting at some of the furs they¡¯d laid on the floor of the tent while muttering expletives.

    ¡°Did you¡­?¡± Mitchell started. ¡°Did you say you fell in love with the next monarch?¡±

    Lethelin¡¯s hand froze in the act of trying to yank out some clump of fur. She went very still.

    ¡°No?¡± Lethelin said meekly after a very pregnant pause. Even in the dim light he could see the color rise in her cheeks.

    ¡°Yeees, you did,¡± Mitchell said, unable to hide the note of teasing in his voice. ¡°You said you fell in love with the next monarch. Which is¡­¡±

    Mitchell paused for dramatic effect.

    ¡°Which is me, I believe.¡±

    ¡°Oh, balls!¡± Lethelin said and threw herself into the pile of furs and hid her face.

    ¡°Lethelin loooves Mitchell!¡± Mitchell said in a sing-song voice. Although it didn¡¯t have the same school-yard-taunt feel to it in Common as it did in English. Maybe he would teach that phrase to her.

    Lethelin kicked out a leg at him in response, which wasn¡¯t even close.

    She yelled at him from inside her wad of furs. Her voice was muffled but he could still understand her.

    ¡°Are you forgetting Mira? I could cut you!¡±

    Mitchell chuckled and decided not to tell her that her admission, even accidental as it was, had sent his heart racing.

 Chapter 39

    The next several hours were uneventful. After a few minutes of awkward silence, Lethelin had sat back up again but would not look anywhere near his face. Mitchell had to bite his tongue not to tease her further but he got the sense that now was not the time. There was a tension about her that he didn¡¯t think had anything to do with the teasing and he didn¡¯t want to push his luck. Instead, he moved the conversation on to safer topics, which she seemed to appreciate, and after a little bit she seemed to shrug off the embarrassment and was more or less back to her old self.

    Allora¡¯s condition had not changed and Mitchell tried to console himself with the fact that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. She still wasn¡¯t breathing, but neither was she getting cold and stiff. Her body remained warm but unresponsive to any stimuli. Water poured into her mouth simply pooled there. When he placed an ear to her chest, he heard no heartbeat. He tried not to let it show but he was very much freaked out. Still, as long as she wasn¡¯t getting all corpsified and gross, he wouldn¡¯t give up hope. The fear that they were too late was like ice in his veins but he refused to let it win.

    It drove Mitchell nuts that he was so helpless in this situation. Mitchell knew how viruses worked and he thought he knew most of the major ailments a person could suffer, but he had no frame of reference for this. Grey¡¯s Anatomy had no episodes with a mysterious illness that drained all color out of someone and then turned them into some sort of white-eyed mana-sucking zombie.

    Lethelin, still not fully recovered from her icy trip to Death¡¯s door, opted to sleep, albeit fitfully. Mitchell wanted to sleep as well but they¡¯d been pulling guard shifts for weeks and he didn¡¯t feel comfortable with both of them unconscious, even if they were trapped in here. Something might happen and he wanted one of them awake when it did. So, while she curled up under the furs and began her cute little mouse snore, he pulled out his spell book and started going over the fire bolt spell, hoping to have it locked in when the time came to use it again. Not for the first time he wished for a simple wand, a little hand waving, and a special word to cast a spell, but real magic was not so easy. That thought gave him a chuckle.

    ¡°Real magic!¡± he told himself and marveled once again at how quickly he¡¯d adapted to the new reality.

    Hours passed. Mitchell had become so proficient with the mage light spell that he didn¡¯t even have to think about it when he recast it. The rune form snapped instantly into his mind and, with a flick of his wrist, he sent it above his head. Lethelin awoke and looked around bleary eyed for a moment as if she¡¯d forgotten where she was. He watched her rub the sleep from her eyes and pull her long, delicate fingers through her blood-red curls trying to tamp down the bed head.

    ¡°Anything?¡± she asked him finally, her voice still raspy with sleep.

    ¡°No,¡± he told her. ¡°I checked outside a little while ago and there¡¯s no change.¡±

    Lethelin made a face like she wanted to swear but controlled herself. Instead, she picked herself up, went out to find a crack to relieve herself in, then joined him back in the tent.

    ¡°Get some sleep,¡± she told him around a mouthful of smoked meat that she¡¯d plucked from their provisions pack. ¡°I¡¯ll wake you if anything changes.¡±

    Mitchell rubbed his own eyes and merely nodded. As he lay down and pulled the still-warm furs from Lethelin¡¯s body he watched her sit next to Allora and brush some of the elf¡¯s hair out of her face.

    ¡°She cares about Allora, too,¡± Mitchell said to himself and it was a comforting thought. He knew they were going to need each other if they were going to survive.

    ***

    Mitchell awoke some hours later to a dark tent. Lethelin must have heard the change in his breathing and called out.

    ¡°Are you finally awake?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he told her, trying to shake the sleep from his thoughts. ¡°Did something happen?¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯ve just been sitting in the dark for hours,¡± she replied, her voice tight with tension. ¡°Your light went out a little after you fell asleep.¡±

    Mitchell grinned sheepishly as he sat up and cast the mage light again, bathing the small tent in a weak silvery glow.

    ¡°Thank you!¡± she said, squinting at even that dim illumination.

    She looked haggard and tense but, when he asked her about it, she just wobbled her head. He crawled over to sit next to her and pulled her into his arms. She resisted at first, but then allowed herself to be held before finally relaxing into his chest. She was trembling.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Leth?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t really like confined spaces,¡± she said after a few deep breaths. ¡°I really want to get out of here!¡±

    Her voice quavered at the repressed anxiety.

    ¡°It¡¯s like I can feel the mountain pressing down on me. I didn¡¯t mind it so much when we were just camping and we had a way out but now we¡¯re stuck here!¡±

    Her hands grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and he could hear the panic rising in her voice.

    ¡°You went to sleep and the light went out and it was dark and I was alone with a warm corpse and I couldn¡¯t get out and the mountain was crushing down on us and¡­ and¡­¡±

    Her breath started to heave as the fear she¡¯d been keeping clamped down began to rise to the surface and a strangled sob burst from her throat.

    ¡°It¡¯s crushing us, Mitchell! We¡¯re going to die crushed by a mountain. No air, can¡¯t move! We have to get out!¡±

    ¡°Hey hey, shhh, it¡¯s going to be okay,¡± Mitchell said, trying to soothe the panicked thief. He took her head in his hands and forced her to look at him. Her wide green eyes were swimming in pools of tears that had begun to streak down her dirty face and she looked like a rabbit about to bolt.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to get out. I don¡¯t know how yet, but we will, okay,¡± he told her. ¡°Look at me. Breathe with me. Look at my eyes and breathe. In and out, in and out.¡±

    Mitchell began to take deep breathes which she struggled to match at first, but then she found his rhythm. They stayed like that as she calmed down.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to get out. Say it with me,¡± he commanded her.

    ¡°We¡¯re¡­¡± she swallowed and sniffled. ¡°We¡¯re going to get out.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re going to see the sky again.¡±

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    ¡°We¡¯re going to see the sky again,¡± she repeated, a little more strength in her voice this time.

    ¡°And do you know why we¡¯re going to get out?¡±

    She sniffed again and wobbled her head. Mitchell released her and pulled his hands through her hair and then cupped her chin in his hand.

    ¡°Because I¡¯m too pretty. I¡¯m just too pretty for Stollar to let me die.¡±

    He gave her a big grin, trying his best to summon Tom Cruise, despite not looking anything like him. Risky Business had been one of his dad¡¯s favorite movies and Mitchell had snuck the DVD off the shelf plenty of times in his teenage years to admire Rebecca De Mornay.

    ¡°You¡­? What?¡±

    Lethelin was so caught off guard by his words that it had the desired effect shocking her out of the dark hole her thoughts were dragging her into.

    ¡°You are not that pretty,¡± she said finally, laughing and he could see a little of the tension leave her shoulders.

    Mitchell pulled her in close and planted a kiss on her forehead.

    ¡°Yes, I am,¡± he told her with a wink. ¡°Let me get cleaned up a little and we¡¯ll try again.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t let the light go out!¡± Lethelin said, a note of panic returning to her voice.

    ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± he told her.

    He overcharged a mage light spell as much as it felt like it would allow and cast it at the top of the tent, giving her plenty of light and started trying to clean himself up as best he could in these conditions.

    Outside in the cavern he found that there was enough water dripping through cracks in the rock that, with some patience and a lot of shivering, he could approximate a sponge bath. The icy water was far from pleasant but the grime was worse. With a lot of hissing and curses, he scrubbed himself as best he could in the icy rivulets running down the cave wall and bolted back inside, shivering and covered with goose flesh.

    ¡°Can bathe if you don¡¯t mind the cold,¡± he told Lethelin, hardly able to speak due to the shivering wracking his whole body.

    Her eyes were wide as she took him in trying to put on a fresh pair of clothes.

    ¡°I¡¯ll pass,¡± she said after watching him struggle to work his fingers to pull up his pants and giggled. ¡°I didn¡¯t know lips could turn that shade of blue.¡±

    He dressed hurriedly and pulled out another fire stone, warming the tent up by several degrees and after several minutes he finally stopped shivering enough to eat some food. Lethelin fidgeted and he saw her glancing at the tent walls several times, but she was doing a good job of keeping her panic contained. He kept the mage light burning at all times.

    On the fourth recast, he noticed something different about the spell. When he channeled the mana it felt¡­sloppy. Like the mana flow was fuzzy around the edges. Usually when he cast his spells, the power felt clean and precise. He cast it again.

    ¡°Strange,¡± he said as the feeling of dissonance persisted.

    ¡°What?¡± Lethelin asked.

    ¡°When I cast the mage light it feels off. Like something is wrong with the mana flow. It¡¯s never happened before.¡±

    ¡°When¡¯s the last time you changed the stone?¡±

    Mitchell opened his mouth to speak then realized what was going on. He groaned and chuckled.

    ¡°Revos told me I would know when the stone had degraded too far. I haven¡¯t had to change any of the stones so far. I only know three spells and they aren¡¯t very strong.¡±

    Mitchell reached over to where his ikas, the pouch that stored his replacements, was sitting next to his bag. He pulled out a fresh bloodstone and swapped it for the old one in his sevith. He¡¯d practiced the movement as he¡¯d been instructed and it was a simple process of popping the degraded stone out and the new stone in. He examined it in the light.

    ¡°It looks fine,¡± he told her.

    Under the naked eye Mitchell couldn¡¯t detect any imperfections in the gemstone but he could certainly feel it when he¡¯d cast the spell.

    ¡°What do people do with the old ones?¡±

    ¡°Usually they throw them away,¡± Lethelin said.

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not good for much. I¡¯ve seen people claim that if they are ground up and mixed with potions they have more magical powers but that¡¯s old fish guts if you ask me.¡±

    ¡°Some of these would be worth money back on my world,¡± he said.

    ¡°Why? I thought your people didn¡¯t have magic. What would they use them for?

    ¡°Jewelry, mostly.¡±

    Lethelin grunted.

    ¡°Some of them are pretty, I guess, but they¡¯re a tool for the casters. Making them into simple jewelry would be a waste.¡±

    Mitchell couldn¡¯t really argue with her. They were just rocks, after all. Their value was arbitrary. He thought about the diamond trade and how the companies that controlled the mining used artificial scarcity and clever marketing to create demand for a stone that actually existed in abundance and was essentially worthless.

    Mitchell tried to keep her talking so she wouldn¡¯t focus on what was outside the tent. He asked her about Varset and her mother. He wanted to ask her just what had gotten her into a life of crime but see seemed to dodge that question so he let it go.

    ¡°If we survive, would you like to come back to Earth with me?¡± he asked her suddenly.

    The question startled her.

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to stay?¡±

    ¡°No, I mean just for a visit. And to let my parents know I¡¯m not dead. I think you¡¯d like it there. And you could meet my mom, dad, and sister. And,¡± he added, ¡°it¡¯s where we came from. Humans, I mean.¡±

    Lethelin went quiet for a moment.

    ¡°You want me to meet your parents?¡±

    ¡°If you want. You and Allora. When she¡¯s better.¡±

    Lethelin blushed a little and looked down at her fingers.

    ¡°Okay.¡±

    ¡°And, also there¡¯s¡ª¡±

    Mitchell cut off as there was a sound from outside. They both jerked to attention.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Lethelin asked, her long stiletto seeming to materialize in her hand from some extra dimensional space.

    ¡°Marvin or Tammi?¡± Mitchell offered, though he didn¡¯t think so.

    The yulops had been mostly calm since they¡¯d gotten into the cave. They didn¡¯t care about the opening being sealed as long as they got their food and water. He readied an arcane bolt spell in his mind, keeping the mana just ready to cast.

    They heard it again. A sniffing sound. Fast and inquisitive. The flaps of the tent started to ruffle like someone¡ªor something¡ªwas trying to find the opening. There was a chuffing noise, not unlike a dog sniffing through the covers looking for its toy. Then, at the bottom of the tent flaps, a small snout poked through, about the size of his palm. From the little that he could see, it was some sort of scaled beast, reddish blue in color. Once its nose was through it stopped and then it inhaled deeply, its nostrils flaring. Then it chirped, almost like a bird. There was a scabbling sound and then it pulled its body through the small opening it had found and sat up on its hind legs.

    ¡°What the fuck is that?¡± Mitchell asked, unsure if he should fire or not. He looked over at Lethelin who looked equally perplexed. Her blade was at the ready but she made no move to attack it.

    The creature looked like a small dragon. It was just over a meter long from snout to the tip of its tail and it was indeed covered in red and blue iridescent scales that glistened in the silvery mage light. Its eyes were large in its head, almost comically so, and they were gold with slitted black pupils. Its wings were pressed tightly to its back and they looked supple and soft, almost like a bat¡¯s wings. It had wickedly sharp black needle-like claws on its paws but as it sat up on its back legs it didn¡¯t look threatening. It looked¡­pleased with itself. It chirped at them again in a self-satisfied manner, and extended its head forward towards Mitchell who was the closest. With its neck fully extended it tilted its chin up and closed its eyes.

    ¡°I think it wants you to pet it or scratch it or something,¡± Lethelin said.

    ¡°Should I?¡±

    The thief shrugged, looking from it to him and then back.

    As the silence stretched it seemed to do a little jig on its back feet in anticipation and then one eye cracked open staring at Mitchell. It chirped again, more insistently this time.

    ¡°Okay¡­¡± Mitchell said, unsure if he was about to lose a finger.

    Slowly he began to extend his arm toward the creature. It saw and shut its eye again and the back legs began what Mitchell could only describe as a happy dance.

    Mitchell placed two fingers under its chin and scratched. The scales, while firm, were surprisingly pliant. As he scratched the thing began to almost purr and a shudder rang the length of its sinuous body. When it decided it had had enough, it pulled away and then spun in a little circle before diving for the opening where it burrowed through the tent flaps to the outside.

    Mitchell, hand still extended, looked back to Lethelin who stared back at him with her eyebrows raised.

    ¡°At least it didn¡¯t try to eat us,¡± she said at last.

    ¡°Do you have any idea what that was?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she offered apologetically.

    ¡°I thought dragons were big.¡±

    ¡°They are,¡± Lethelin confirmed. ¡°The ancient ones are huge. The stories say they could be fifty or sixty meters long. I¡¯ve never seen one, though. I¡ª¡±

    The creature chirped again from outside, then there was a pawing at the tent flaps. This time its full head poked through and it looked at both of them, its large golden eyes probing. It chirped again, then retracted its head.

    ¡°I think it wants us to go outside,¡± Mitchell said.

    Lethelin shifted uncomfortably but nodded.

    ¡°After you,¡± she said.

    Mitchell grabbed his scabbard just in case, then crawled out of the tent opening.

 Chapter 40

    As Mitchell crawled out of the tent, the first thing he noticed was that there was light. But not the harsh wintry light from outside. This light was warm and inviting. It reminded him of staring in through a large bay window into a living room decked out for Christmas with a fire roaring in a hearth strung with stockings and garland. The glow was coming from the oval window set into a stout wooden door that was nestled into the stone as if the mountain had been formed around it. The door stood in the same position as the narrow entrance had been when they first arrived but he could see no trace of it now, only the rough granite walls and this new feature.

    As Mitchell straightened, Lethelin emerged behind him and was equally awestruck by the appearance of the door and the soothing light emanating from the stained-glass of the window.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s nipples,¡± she said, almost in a whisper. ¡°When did that get here?¡±

    Before Mitchell could answer, the little creature that had drawn them out of the tent chirped at them once again, very pleased with itself, turned in a circle and then scampered through a cat flap that had been cut into the door near the bottom. Its body flowed smoothly through the small opening and the flap slapped close with a little click.

    ¡°I think we¡¯ve found the one who locked us in here,¡± Mitchell said.

    He turned to look at Lethelin who hadn¡¯t answered him.

    ¡°Oh, yeah. Sorry, it¡¯s just that¡­¡± her voice trailed off, then she shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s so nice. We¡¯ve been in the dark for so long. Can we go in?¡±

    Lethelin pulled her eyes away from the multi-hued glow and looked at him with an eager expression.

    He felt it too. He wanted to go in so bad he thought he could taste the Christmas cookies that were surely just on the other side, but a more cautious part of his brain was sounding the alarm klaxons.

    ¡°Is this safe?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see another way out,¡± she said.

    Mitchell couldn¡¯t argue with that. He wasn¡¯t sure how long they¡¯d been in here. Without the sun to keep the time, there was no way to tell day from night. Two days, maybe. Not more than three. But he knew that Lethelin was holding it together by the skin of her teeth, and then there was Allora, who hadn¡¯t moved at all and now wasn¡¯t even breathing. In any event, their food would run out eventually if they stayed here. The door seemed their best bet. If whoever or whatever had put it here wanted them dead, , all they had to do was nothing.

    ¡°Okay, then,¡± Mitchell said with a sigh.

    He crossed the uneven ground over to the door and reached up to the knocker which was bolted in just below the window. It was a simple design, just a copper ring with a fat end meant to strike the matching copper plate. Mitchell gave it the standard shave-and-a-haircut knock and waited. It didn¡¯t take long.

    Of its own accord, the door swung inward and a rush of warm cinnamon-and-cedar-scented air washed over them.

    ¡°Come in,¡± said a distinctly feminine voice from somewhere inside.

    Mitchell felt Lethelin¡¯s hand as she found his and gripped it, and they stepped inside.

    As they crossed through the threshold, Mitchell felt a strange tingling all over his body. Almost like he had walked through some sort of static electrical field. It tickled ever so slightly and Mitchell couldn¡¯t suppress the shudder. He felt Lethelin do the same. But it didn¡¯t hurt, and it stopped once they were clear of the entrance.

    Mitchell turned to look behind him and could see the cave and the tent through the glow from inside but of the pass that they had trudged through to get to the cave there was no sign.

    The room was just as warm and inviting as the light had suggested. A fire was blazing in a river stone hearth built into the left side, though there were no stockings or Christmas tree. The thick logs were blazing enthusiastically, filling the room with the crackle and pop as they burned. The furnishings were simple but comfortable-looking chairs made of a dark wood and over-stuffed cranberry-red cushions. Opposite the door was a pre-industrial cooking area with what almost looked like a pizza oven, a pump for bringing up water, and a counter top stacked high with vegetables and herbs that Mitchell couldn¡¯t identify. It had been built into an alcove off of the main room and there was a small leaded glass window that showed a hint of green and sunlight outside.

    A small table was set in front of the fireplace with covered dishes set up, along with looked to Mitchell like a glass of beer. He did a double take. He could make out the logo for the Pedal Haus Brewery on the glass. That was impossible! It was a local craft brewery back in Phoenix that made his favorite beer, their Kush IPA. And it certainly appeared the right shade.

    Next to that was a bottle of something else that Mitchell didn¡¯t recognize. It was a small, squat bit of green glass with a fat cork in the top. He could see it was filled with a dark liquid, and he assumed it was a variety of wine going by the color.

    As he scanned across to the right side of the room, he saw against the opposite wall a small writing desk with several leather-bound books arranged on a shelf above with two open next to some loose paper and a quill. Next to the desk was a doorway strung with beads of various different colors and a cot against the same wall the entrance to the cottage was in. It was covered in quilts that had a handmade quality to them and a large pillow at one end.

    The little dragon thing had taken up residence on a small rug in front of the fireplace and was already snoozing comfortably, as if rousing them out of the tent and getting them to come in the door had exhausted it.

    ¡°Um¡­¡± Mitchell began into the silence. ¡°Hello?¡±

    The voice spoke up almost immediately from the room beyond the beads.

    ¡°Just a moment,¡± it said in thickly accented English. ¡°I¡¯m almost finished.¡±

    It had an almost Mediterranean sound. Italian or Spanish, maybe.

    They heard the sound of some clinking bottles and then a satisfied grunt before the beads parted and a woman emerged. She was about Lethelin¡¯s height, with straight silver-white tresses that went down to the middle of her back and silvery eyes with irises that were gray instead of black. Her skin was as pale as her hair, but somehow still managed to glow with health. Deep burgundy lips were the only bit of color animating her otherwise albino features and .he saw long ears pointing up between the locks of her hair, much higher than Allora¡¯s.

    Her body was lithe and she moved with an almost unnatural grace as she stepped into the room in a simple red farm dress cinched tight at the waist with a red leather bodice that pushed her ample cleavage up to prominence. Mitchell had the feeling that if she stopped too fast the sudden change in speed would be enough to rip the brave and struggling leather cord that zigzagged up the front of the bodice and held it together. Sewn into the shoulders of the leather were thin ruffled shirt sleeves that went down to about mid-bicep on the smaller woman and left her arms exposed.

    She was beautiful in an eerily unnatural way and had an alien quality about her. Mitchell was reminded of attempts by CGI artists and AI software to recreate animated faces that could pass for human. Most of the attempts failed as there was always something off about the reaction times or the eyes. This woman was like that. She was human shaped, barring the ears, but you would never mistake her for a human.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Her hands were clasped demurely in front of her and Mitchell could make out the top of a small vial held between her fingers.

    Behind him Lethelin groaned in absolute dismay.

    ¡°What?¡± Mitchell asked her, trying to pull his gaze away from the woman¡¯s captivating beauty.

    ¡°Waivia,¡± Lethelin said as if she had lost the will to live. ¡°We should have stayed in the cave.¡±

    ¡°Waivia?¡± Mitchell asked, looking from the woman who had now quirked the left side of her seductive mouth into a slight grin to Lethelin who had drained what little color was in her cheeks and had a look of defeat and resignation on her face. ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°In your language it means fey,¡± the woman supplied, her strange accent sending shivers down Mitchell¡¯s spine. It was like the tones in her voice, each syllable and bit of inflection, was moving over his skin, exploring and seeking. ¡°I am a lady of Fairy.¡±

    ***

    ¡°Is that bad?¡± Mitchell finally asked into the silence.

    Lethelin looked at him aghast.

    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know. Is being burned alive in a fire bad? Is having your flesh ripped off your body by ravenous ziavas bad? Stollar¡¯s balls!¡±

    Lethelin looked like she wanted to run, but also like she knew it was futile at the same time.

    ¡°Such dramatics from the moon child,¡± the woman said with a giggle.

    ¡°They¡¯re evil!¡± Lethelin said, her voice hard. Then she sucked in a breath, and a look of fear and regret passed over her features as she glanced at the fey woman.

    ¡°Please remember your manners, moon child,¡± the woman said, and the playful note in her voice had vanished, replaced by something with an edge. ¡°You are a guest in my home and are under the protection of the laws of hospitality. I vow to bring no harm to you, but I will not tolerate insults within my own walls.¡±

    The thief was immediately penitent. She dipped into a bow and spoke with her eyes locked on the floor.

    ¡°I apologize, my lady. I¡­ I meant no disrespect. I will abide by the laws of hospitality and give no further offense.¡±

    Mitchell wasn¡¯t yet familiar enough with the language, but her manner of speaking had shifted. It reminded him of the way Allora always spoke. There was a certain sort of formality that Lethelin didn¡¯t usually use. And the mocking tone that she often had when she called Allora ¡®my lady¡¯ was gone, replaced by one of deference. He had gotten the impression that Lethelin spoke a rougher dialect of Common than the knight did but couldn¡¯t quite place how it was different. Language was a complicated thing, after all. It was much easier to hear the difference now that Lethelin was using a more polite form as well.

    Mitchell felt widely out of depth here and was struggling to figure out what to do. He wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d ever seen Lethelin so distressed, which suggested this woman was someone to fear. The wolves hadn¡¯t fazed her, and she didn¡¯t show any hesitation when she killed Ivaran. Nor had she shied away from their attackers back in the town. She was afraid now, however.

    ¡°You may rise,¡± the woman said with a tone that was almost as warm as before. ¡°I accept your apology.¡±

    Lethelin did as instructed but looked like she expected death at any moment.

    ¡°Let us start again,¡± the woman said. ¡°I am Lady Luvari of the Winter Court of the Fey Lands. I welcome you to my home. You are my guests, and you are safe within my walls. Be welcome. Sit and eat,¡± Luvari gestured to the chairs arranged around the small table where the drinks and covered dishes were arranged.

    ¡°We have a friend back in the cave,¡± Mitchell gestured to the still open door into the cave behind them. ¡°She¡¯s not well.¡±

    ¡°The knight is in stasis,¡± Luvari said, her voice kind. ¡°She will be fine while you eat. Please, be at ease.¡±

    Mitchell looked to Lethelin who seemed to have all the fight taken out of her. She walked on silent feet over to the table and sat down folding her hands in her lap. In all the weeks he¡¯d known her, he¡¯d never seen her behave in such a manner. Mitchell followed suit and sat himself in front of the seat with the Pedal Haus glass.

    ¡°I have taken the liberty of preparing foods I thought you would enjoy,¡± Luvari said as she walked up to the table and removed the domes covering the food. ¡°The moon child¡¯s preference was not hard to acquire, but you,¡± the fey woman gave Mitchell a knowing look, ¡°took some effort. Traveling to such a low-magic realm required preparation.¡±

    Mitchell stared at his plate in wonder. It was a burger. But not just any burger. Mitchell would bet his life that it was the Hush Burger, from Fire At Will, a restaurant in Scottsdale. It was a bit of a hike from his place in Tempe right near the Ahwatukee foothills, but it was worth the drive. Steam was still coming off the brioche bun and cheese oozed down the sides like it had just come out of the kitchen instead of having traveled from another universe.

    Lethelin looked equally shocked. On her plate was a fish of some kind. The meat was white and glistening and covered in a yellow sauce that gave off a distinct citrusy smell and had small berries suspended in it. Whatever it was, she was impressed. Her eyes were wide, and he could actually see her nostrils dilate as she inhaled the aroma.

    ¡°Gura!¡± she exclaimed ¡°In naushin sauce!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget the taris,¡± Luvari said with a smile. Then she leaned closer to Mitchell and spoke again in English. ¡°Naushin is a like a lemon and taris are raisins. The sauce is quite delicious.¡±

    ¡°How did you do this?¡± Mitchell asked the strange woman.

    ¡°I used a credit card,¡± she told him with a wink of one silver eye. Her words were like warm honey over his skin. The hair on the back of Mitchell¡¯s neck was actually starting to rise.

    ¡°Not mine, of course. But the young man who purchased it for me was very happy to help. Getting there and back was the difficult part. There are not many fey portals to your world. We don¡¯t like to travel there.¡±

    Mitchell could delay no longer. Lethelin had already begun to dig into her fish, a gura she had called it, and the smells coming from the Hush burger were slowly driving him insane. He picked it up almost reverently, like it was his only child, and didn¡¯t even mind the cheese running over his fingers. As if it was his last meal, he took a bite.

    ¡°Ohmffgawd!¡± he groaned around the mouthful as the flavors overwhelmed him. He¡¯d almost forgotten how good a burger tasted.

    Mitchell was a simple guy, really. He didn¡¯t need much. A cold beer, a good burger, and hopefully a beautiful girl next to his side and he was happy. He¡¯d had the beautiful women for weeks now, but the burger and the beer had been missing. Not anymore. He was too overcome with hunger to talk and only consumed. He pulled a long drink from the beer glass and knew true happiness for the first time in a very long time.

    While her guests gorged themselves, Lady Luvari circled the table and sat down on the hearth and began to idly stroke the scales and spines along the strange little creature¡¯s back. It arched itself very much like a cat would and its wings suddenly shot outward and began to vibrate.

    She looked at them both carefully, but Mitchell thought she was watching him a little more closely. Her gaze almost seemed like it was trying to capture him. Even just glancing eye contact made him want to linger on her face, to lose himself in the pale curve of her cheek or the soft outline of her lips. But before it got too far, he felt something like a push that took his eyes away, and he was able to focus back on his food.

    Across from him, Lethelin popped the cork on the small wine bottle and sniffed. Eyes going wide, she placed it to her lips and drank almost the entire contents of the bottle in one long drink. He tried to imagine Allora drinking anything like that, but it seemed absurd.

    Lethelin slumped back in her chair and looked about to succumb to a food coma and Mitchell imagined he probably looked the same. His stomach, after weeks of trail rations and few real meals, felt almost uncomfortably full, and then there was the beer. The feeling of satiation made him tired and giddy at the same time.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad to see you enjoyed my gifts,¡± Luvari said while she stroked the dragon creature¡¯s back. It had hopped up at some point and was curled in her lap, resting comfortably in the folds of her dress. ¡°I do hope that we can be friends.¡±

    Now that Mitchell was feeling a little more like himself, he tried to recall what legends there were about fey creatures from back home, but, unfortunately, he didn¡¯t know much. He¡¯d never gotten around to reading A Midsummer Night¡¯s Dream, though his English teacher in high school had let them watch a movie adaptation that had starred Michelle Pfeiffer, but he could barely remember it. He knew the fey were supposed to be immortal beings, and he thought he remembered something about them hating iron, although she hadn¡¯t objected to them having their weapons. But perhaps most importantly, Mitchell remembered that they couldn¡¯t lie. Not functionally, anyway. They could use truth in such a way that it didn¡¯t matter because you never got what you thought you were getting. But how much of that was true? He had no idea.

    ¡°I don¡¯t mean to be rude, Lady Luvari,¡± Mitchell began, ¡°but why are you helping us? What is it that you want?¡±

    The fey woman looked up from where she¡¯d been stroking her pet¡¯s back and gave him a knowing look. Then, without answering, she retrieved the small vial Mitchell had seen her carrying from a pocket in the front of her dress and leaned forward and placed it on the table between the two of them. It was made of clear glass and inside a dark liquid churned and roiled and small explosions of silver erupted from within like bubbles of mercury from a black pool.

    ¡°It is not what I want, traveler,¡± she said as both his and Lethelin¡¯s eyes locked onto the mysterious vial. ¡°It is what I offer.¡±

    ¡°And what¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°The life of your companion and perhaps the success of your quest. For in that vial, lies both.¡±

 Chapter 41

    ¡°Do you know what¡¯s wrong with Allora?¡± Mitchell asked, his mind suddenly coming into focus.

    Lady Luvari nodded.

    ¡°I do. She has been cursed. It is a very powerful spell and not one from this world. She is only alive now because I have placed her in stasis. If I remove the spell, she would not last the day. Likely, neither would you.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯ll die?¡± Lethelin asked, speaking up for the first time since they¡¯d started eating.

    ¡°In a sense,¡± Luvari said, turning her silver gaze towards Lethelin. ¡°What is happening to her is not merely death. The curse is actually a parasite using her own mana to feed itself. As it grows, it will take more and more from her. When it has consumed all it can, the woman you know as Allora will die, but she will become something different. The hunger for mana will be all that she knows. She will become what is known as a mana wraith. She will grow insubstantial, a ghost, roaming the lands looking for any living creature she can to drain them of their essence, leaving only a lifeless husk behind.¡±

    Her words sent ice through Mitchell¡¯s veins, and he could see that Lethelin looked equally disturbed.

    ¡°How did she get cursed?¡±

    ¡°That I do not know. I only became aware of your party as you moved through the mountains,¡± Luvari said. ¡°I am always looking for those whom I might aid in their time of need.¡±

    The fey woman had an odd smile at those words.

    ¡°You live here?¡±

    ¡°At times,¡± Luvari said cryptically. ¡°People who travel the mountain passes are either hunting for something or running from something else.¡±

    ¡°Desperate people,¡± Mitchell interjected.

    ¡°That is one word to describe them,¡± she answered back. ¡°If I think I can offer a service to them, and they are able to meet my price, I introduce myself.¡±

    ¡°Many are not worth the trouble but,¡± Luvari paused and gave each of them a pointed look, ¡°others are. When a far traveler with the heart stone of Awenor, a moon child, and an Onyx Knight enter the passes, that is worth a closer inspection.¡±

    There was that name for Lethelin again. The traveler nickname was easy enough to understand in his case, but didn¡¯t know why she kept referring to Lethelin like that.

    ¡°You keep saying moon child,¡± Mitchell interrupted. ¡°What is a moon child?¡±

    Rather than answer, Luvari turned her little smile to Lethelin and arched one silver eyebrow. For her part, the thief shifted in her seat and grimaced.

    ¡°Remember the story I told you about my name?¡± Lethelin said, a note of guilt in her voice.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Mitchell said, trying to recall the fairy tale that Lethelin had recounted all those weeks before. ¡°Something about Vish and Ithstasy falling in love with a farm girl?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Lethelin confirmed. ¡°Remember the part about people who are conceived during the event ¨C when the real Lethelin circles between the two moons for three days ¨C having special gifts? That¡¯s true.¡±

    Mitchell thought back to the conversation in the back of the wagon. It had been the day they¡¯d freed themselves from their captors, and he¡¯d been pretty out of it, but he thought he could recall the story.

    ¡°So you were conceived then?¡±

    Lethelin nodded and looked sheepish.

    ¡°Is that bad?¡±

    ¡°On the contrary,¡± Luvari spoke up and sounded excited. ¡°It makes her very rare. Haven¡¯t you noticed anything different about her? Something strange or unusual?¡±

    Lethelin actually blushed.

    ¡°Compared to where I come from, this whole place is strange,¡± Mitchell said sardonically.

    ¡°Oh, come now,¡± Luvari said. ¡°Something unusual even for this place and the people you¡¯ve met.¡±

    Mitchell paused. She had said she was not magically inclined and the mage catchers had confirmed it. She was human, not one of the other mix of races that populated this world but other than that¡­Mitchell blinked.

    Actually, there was something very strange about her. Luvari grinned as she saw the realization on his face.

    Lethelin had a way of simply disappearing ¨C there one minute and gone the next, only to be there again later like nothing had happened.

    ¡°Is that why you can disappear?¡± he asked her, giving her a searching look.

    ¡°I don¡¯t disappear,¡± Lethelin corrected him. ¡°I don¡¯t move at all, actually. When I sit still for a little bit people forget I¡¯m there. And then they just¡­ can¡¯t see me. If I move again, usually the effect ends.¡±

    ¡°The gifts of the moon children are not usually magic in the way mortals think of it,¡± Luvari explained. ¡°It is something else entirely. A touch of the divine. It manifests in different ways and there is no way to predict what it will be.¡±

    ¡°You, Lethelin,¡± Luvari said with a note of satisfaction in her honeyed voice, ¡°are only the third moon child I¡¯ve met in my time on this world.¡±

    ¡°Yay for me,¡± Lethelin said and crossed her arms looking like she wanted to be anywhere else.

    Mitchell wanted to explore this more and gave Lethelin a look that he hoped conveyed that this conversation wasn¡¯t over. Still, he knew it wasn¡¯t the right time. Allora was the more pressing concern.

    Turning his attention back to Luvari he asked, ¡°So this vial can cure Allora? Stop her from becoming a mana ghost, or whatever?¡±

    ¡°It will,¡± Luvari said simply.

    ¡°And you mentioned a price,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°What price? We don¡¯t have much money.¡±

    Lady Luvari giggled.

    ¡°My dear traveler, I have no use for gold or coin from any realm. One does not barter with a member of the fey with coin, my little mortal.¡±

    From the corner of his eye, Mitchell saw Lethelin tense up.

    ¡°What do you want, then? Where I¡¯m from, we don¡¯t have fey.¡±

    Luvari reached forward with delicate pale fingers and plucked the vial from the table as she stood.

    ¡°Fey such as I deal in knowledge, influence, and power. There is potential for all three in your party. It remains to be seen if you have something of sufficient value to cure your friend, but it was worth an introduction at the very least.¡±

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    Luvari removed the few dishes to her kitchen area and then returned and stepped close to Mitchell. She bent down and gazed deep into his eyes. Her stare held him fast, and he felt that odd tugging at his consciousness again, much stronger this time, but with an effort he was able to resist the pull. He didn¡¯t take his eyes off of hers, though. He felt a hand on his cheek and started at the realization that the fey woman was touching him. He hadn¡¯t noticed her move.

    ¡°What memories lie locked in your head, I wonder?¡± Luvari¡¯s voice was low and seductive. ¡°What magic does your blood hold now that you possess the heart stone? What forces will you wield if you save the elemental and reclaim Awenor? What mistakes could you undo? The futures swirl about you and your companions like leaves in a cyclone.¡±

    Luvari¡¯s silver, unblinking eyes seemed to expand and fill his vision. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears thudding like a drum, and a tightness began to grow across his chest. He was falling. Falling into her eyes. At the edge of his vision, he could see¡­ He could see¡­ He could¡­ Oh, god!

    Luvari blinked and Mitchell was thrown back into his chair. Only he¡¯d never gotten out of his seat. He sucked in a deep breath as the tightness across his chest drained away and Lethelin shot to her feet.

    ¡°What did you do to him?¡± she demanded of Luvari, who was slowly standing up with a satisfied look on her face.

    ¡°Nothing, my dear.¡±

    Luvari smoothed her skirts and ran a finger through Mitchell¡¯s hair playfully.

    ¡°I have not harmed him in any way. I was merely testing the limits of the heartstone¡¯s protection of his mind to influence. You are a guest in my home and under the protection of the Laws of Hospitality.¡±

    Mitchell tried to organize his thoughts as his heart rate settled.

    ¡°My mind has protection?¡±

    ¡°Of a sort,¡± Luvari said as she pulled a third chair from where it sat against the wall and seated herself across from them. ¡°In the past, when a new monarch was chosen, they would have been taught the abilities of the heartstone. But your selection was somewhat different. Suffice it to say that it offers you protection against being charmed. I never had the chance to test its limits and couldn¡¯t pass up the opportunity. Please do forgive me.¡±

    Mitchell thought about Lethelin¡¯s insult towards their host and decided that since they¡¯d been given a get-out-of-jail-free card for her faux pas that he would extend the same courtesy. He wasn¡¯t harmed, after all.

    ¡°I accept your apology in the same spirit that you accepted Lethelin¡¯s.¡±

    Luvari gave a polite nod.

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Is this protection good?¡± Mitchell inquired, trying to shift the conversation back to more neutral territory.

    ¡°Quite,¡± Luvari said primly. ¡°I suspect I could break through it, but doing so would likely damage you in such a way as to make you useless to me, or even kill you. But few others would have that power on this world.¡±

    She made a small clicking sound with her mouth.

    ¡°The old gods accomplished something truly magnificent when they created the elementals on this world. Even my kind don¡¯t fully understand them.¡±

    Luvari looked thoughtful for a moment, but then brought her attention back to the present.

    ¡°Now, my price for the life of your friend.¡±

    Mitchell shifted in his seat but said nothing. He had no idea what to even offer.

    ¡°First you, moon child.¡±

    Luvari¡¯s eyes slid serpent-like over to where Lethelin sat with her full red lips pressed tight into a hard thin line. Mitchell wasn¡¯t sure if that was because she was angry or scared she might lose control of her tongue again. Either way, he was grateful she had control over herself.

    ¡°From you,¡± Luvari began, ¡°I desire your blood.¡±

    Lethelin¡¯s eyes bulged.

    ¡°My blood?¡± the thief spat back incredulously.

    ¡°You said you wouldn¡¯t harm us!¡± Mitchell said angrily as Lethelin spluttered.

    ¡°And I won¡¯t. I don¡¯t require all of her blood,¡± Luvari said with a small tinkling laugh. ¡°She will survive the process with no ill effects beyond feeling a little lethargic for a day or two.¡±

    ¡°Why in the nine hells do you want my blood?¡± Lethelin demanded.

    ¡°You are a moon child,¡± Luvari answered, unperturbed by Lethelin¡¯s anger. ¡°Touched by the divine, as I said before. I could learn much about the old magics by studying you. I would prefer to delve into your mind and observe your talents under proper conditions, but I understand you are on a schedule. So I will settle for your blood.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not giving you my blood, you¡­¡± Lethelin caught herself, before issuing a string of invective..

    Luvari arched a delicate silver eyebrow.

    ¡°You¡­ you can¡¯t have it,¡± she finished, a dark red blush rushing in her pale cheeks.

    ¡°Nice save,¡± Mitchell said wryly.

    Lethelin looked across the table at him and grimaced, but didn¡¯t open her mouth again.

    Luvari looked to Mitchell again and pressed on as if the outburst had not happened. Maybe she was used to people losing their shit when she set her price.

    ¡°From you, traveler, I require more. First, because of your position, second, because of your potential, and third, because Allora can offer no payment for saving her life. So you will need to supply something in her stead.¡±

    Mitchell said nothing, feeling a knot form in his stomach.

    Seeing he offered no comment, Luvari continued.

    ¡°First, I require your name. Your true name.¡±

    Mitchell blinked at her.

    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±

    Luvari nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving his.

    ¡°That is the first thing.¡±

    ¡°But that¡¯s easy, my name is¨C¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Lethelin barked suddenly. ¡°Do not say your name!¡±

    Mitchell stared at Lethelin, shocked by the vehemence in her tone.

    ¡°It¡¯s just my name. She already knows it.¡±

    Lethelin wobbled her head so hard she looked like a bobble head doll.

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t know your true name. The name as your mother gave you as you were born. The name as your soul knows it!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± Mitchell said, trying to wrap his head around the concept. He knew enough not to question this but it still didn¡¯t make sense. ¡°What difference does all that make?¡±

    ¡°Damn that woman for getting cursed,¡± Lethelin said under her breath. ¡°She could explain it better!¡±

    Lethelin took a breath and looked like she was trying to recall something.

    ¡°Your name is not just a collection of sounds,¡± she started, her voice uncertain. ¡°It is like who you are. It is given by a mother and a father, and there is power in that. Their love gives it power. It imprints on your soul. To give someone your true name is to give them power over you.

    ¡°And she,¡± Lethelin said, looking nervously at their host, ¡°Is a creature of Fairy.¡±

    ¡°A lady of Fairy,¡± Luvari corrected with a smile.

    ¡°A lady of Fairy,¡± Lethelin repeated. ¡°She¡¯s not a goddess, but she¡¯s not far off.¡±

    ¡°Such honeyed words you speak,¡± Luvari said with a giggle. ¡°Are you trying to get into my bed? You are quite fetching for a human. Keep talking like that, and I may just let you.¡±

    Luvari licked her lips in a way that left no mistake as to the thoughts going through her head.

    Lethelin looked horrified at the suggestion.

    ¡°So, if I give you my true name,¡± Mitchell said, trying to draw Luvari¡¯s attention back to him, ¡°You will have power over me?¡±

    ¡°I cannot enslave your mind, but I could bind you to me, if I so chose. I prefer to do that with only willing mortals, however. Doing it against their will can have undesirable results. But that is not what I wish your name for.¡±

    ¡°Then why do you want it?¡±

    ¡°What I intend to do with it is not your concern. I will vow that I will not use it to harm you or work against you in any way.¡±

    Mitchell gave a frustrated sigh.

    ¡°You said there was more?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Luvari answered simply. ¡°I also require a memory. A powerful memory. Something that helped shape you. Something deeply personal.¡±

    Mitchell looked over to Lethelin, who sat unmoving.

    ¡°What can she do with that?¡± Mitchell asked Lethelin.

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know, Mitchell. I¡¯m sorry. I only know as much as I do because of old stories from when I was young. Allora could¡­¡± Lethelin stopped herself again, and a look of pain crossed her face. ¡°All I can say is fey magic is ancient and powerful.¡±

    Mitchell inhaled and let it out slowly. His mind was in chaos as he tried to weigh his decisions. He knew he was missing something, some vital piece that would help him navigate this swamp, but he had very limited information and felt like he was fumbling in the dark looking for a light switch that wasn¡¯t there.

    What would it mean to give up a memory? A memory that shaped him, who he was. Would he be a different person without it? Would he lose some vital part of himself? It must be important for this fey demigod to want it but he couldn¡¯t begin to guess what value a memory would have. Nor did he understand the implications of having his ¡°true¡± name. He was like a landed fish gulping air yet suffocating.

    ¡°Is there more?¡± he finally asked Luvari after a long pause.

    ¡°The knight¡¯s price, yes,¡± Luvari confirmed.

    ¡°And?¡±

    ¡°In her pouch, she carries three pieces of Awen. I require two of them.¡±

    It took Mitchell a moment to remember what she was talking about, but then recalled their fight with the assassin and the pommel stones he¡¯d thrown at her feet to taunt her. Stones that had once been embedded into the swords of other Onyx Knights. Allora had held them with reverence, had prayed over each one. They were sacred to her.

    ¡°Those are not mine to give,¡± he said flatly.

    Luvari gave him an almost apologetic smile.

    ¡°That is my price. The blood of the moon child, the true name of the traveler and a precious memory, and two of the stones carried by the knight. In return, I offer you her life and the potential life of Awen herself.¡±

    Mitchell looked over to Lethelin who looked like she was torn between crying and trying to kill the fey woman, but she sat motionless. She would be able to offer no help. Mitchell had to decide this on his own.

    ¡°May we have a moment alone to discuss this? In private, please.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Luvari nodded in consent. ¡°I would expect no less. You may return to the cave and I will respect your wish of privacy. Take as much time as you need. I will not remove the stasis spell protecting the knight until you have either rejected my offer or accepted it.¡±

    Mitchell nodded his thanks, then got to his feet. He reached his hand out to Lethelin, who took it and they walked back into the cave, the door closing solidly behind them.

 Chapter 42

    The first thing Mitchell did when they crawled back into the tent was check on Allora. She remained unchanged, unbreathing, but not dead, her body still warm and soft to the touch. After confirming that, they settled in and were quiet for a time. Mitchell spoke first.

    ¡°The first thing I need to know is if fairies can lie.¡±

    Lethelin wobbled her head.

    ¡°No, they always speak the truth. Or, at least they truth as they see it. And the truth they speak may not be the truth you hear. But they can¡¯t knowingly speak anything that is false. That much I know for sure.¡±

    Mitchell considered her words before continuing.

    ¡°So, we can trust Luvari when she says that Allora will die without her help?¡± Mitchell asked.

    ¡°Yes, but that doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s the only way to help her! There could be other options.¡±

    ¡°How likely are we to find those options before Allora becomes a wraith and kills us both?¡±

    Lethelin opened her mouth to speak, then closed it and stared down at her hands which were clutched tightly in her lap.

    ¡°I am a thief, Mitchell. I can¡¯t use magic and I never paid much attention to things like that. I didn¡¯t need to know! I pick pockets and I cut throats. But I don¡¯t know how to handle this.¡±

    ¡°If I accept her offer, will you give her your blood?¡± Mitchell asked.

    Lethelin crossed her arms, hugging herself tightly and looked away from him.

    ¡°Are you ordering me to?¡± she asked after a moment.

    ¡°No,¡± he told her quietly. ¡°I won¡¯t order you to do that. But I may ask you to.¡±

    ¡°And if I refuse?¡±

    ¡°Then I find another way. Or I don¡¯t and Allora dies and likely we will, too. One way or another.¡±

    Lethelin looked back at Allora¡¯s bone white face, all color gone from her skin. Even her lustrous black hair had become gray bordering on white.

    ¡°I think it was the fight with Dakath,¡± Lethelin said, shifting the topic. ¡°I think he did something. Or it was his blade.¡±

    ¡°That was mentioned before,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°Something about his black-steel blade. And the bodyguard that was with Revos¡¯s cousin in Besari had two of them across his back. Are they special?¡±

    Lethelin snorted.

    ¡°You can say that. They¡¯re made only in Deaj Reaal, the capital of Kazig. The making of the steel is a closely guarded secret, although that¡¯s not saying much when it comes to the cambions. Most of what they do they keep secret. Their society is sealed up tighter than a Iletishian princess¡¯s honey pot! But the blades can hold enchantments better than any other known metal. The blades themselves are deadly enough as they can break most regular swords and rarely, if ever, need sharpening. But if you have the coin to pay for enchantments they can be incredibly powerful.¡±

    ¡°So you think Dakath had some enchantment on his blade that did this to Allora?¡±

    ¡°It would make sense. An assassin of his skill level and power would have had the means to pay for it. Getting a black-steel blade is hard enough. That he had one at all speaks volumes.¡±

    ¡°Tell me all that you can about fey creatures,¡± Mitchell said, bringing them back on topic.

    Lethelin huffed.

    ¡°I¡¯ve told you most of what I know already. The fey lands are a wild place that people usually speak about in hushed tones. Strange magic, stranger beasts, and beautiful and terrible creatures that don¡¯t know from moment to moment if they will kill you or befriend you. The fey do things for their own reasons and rarely does it make sense to outsiders or mortals. Almost every story that is told about them talks of bargains, though.¡±

    ¡°How do the mortals usually do in the bargain?¡±

    ¡°Badly,¡± the thief said.

    ¡°But the fey honor their word?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Their word as they see it, though. They always have an agenda. Usually several.¡±

    Lethelin looked at him hard.

    ¡°We¡¯re toys to them. They are essentially immortal and use us in their games for amusement. I doubt that Luvari has any real interest in us at all, despite what she says. I think this is just an amusing way for her to pass an afternoon.¡±

    Mitchell suspected she was probably right but that insight didn¡¯t give him any new ideas about

    how to get out of this Faustian deal. He looked at Allora and then his eyes roamed down to the small pouch which was still tied to her waist. Inside were the three gems they¡¯d taken from Dakath. Would Allora forgive him if he used them to save her life? He remembered her telling him that the quest was bigger than her and that if she died he was to push on without her but Mitchell knew he could never do that. Oh, he would try. He wouldn¡¯t just roll over and die. That wasn¡¯t in his nature. But he knew that their odds of success if Allora perished on this mountain were next to nothing.

    Lethelin¡¯s voice broke through his thoughts.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I can¡¯t be of more help,¡± she said weakly. ¡°Allora was right about me. I¡¯m just Varset trash. If I had studied harder with the tutors my mother paid for, if I had paid more attention, maybe I could give better council. But I just don¡¯t know enough!¡±

    ¡°Hey, hey!¡± Mitchell said to her, trying to soothe the woman. She was trembling and twisting her hands over and over. ¡°Come here.¡±

    Lethelin crawled over to him and he pulled her into his arms.

    ¡°I told you before, we¡¯re going to get out of here. All of us. I don¡¯t need you to be anything other than what you are. Understand?¡±

    Lethelin didn¡¯t answer, but he felt her nod against his chest.

    ¡°Your path, for better or worse, led you to us. You saved my life and Allora¡¯s too. The girl from the Varset docks tracked a hit squad across two nations by herself and took them out one by one. She brought down one of the wealthiest families in Varset on accident and saved a young girl from a brutal rape in the process! Imagine what she could do if she really put her mind to something!¡±

    Lethelin giggle-sobbed into his shirt as he stroked her hair.

    ¡°I need you, Lethelin. Allora does too, even if she¡¯s too stubborn to admit it. What was the fish thing you called her?¡±

    ¡°A reef carp.¡±

    ¡°A reef carp,¡± he repeated. ¡°Our reef carp needs you too. You¡¯re not trash. I can¡¯t do this without you anymore than I can¡¯t do this without Allora.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Really,¡± he replied firmly.

    Eventually Lethelin pulled herself away and she went over to her sleeping mat and laid down. It wasn¡¯t long before she was snoring and Mitchell let her sleep. He wanted the time to think, anyway. He was having an idea and needed to sort it out before they went back. Mitchell already knew that he would accept the offer and suspected Lethelin would pay the price as well, but that didn¡¯t mean there weren¡¯t options available to him. He just had to sort them out.

    ***

    The door to Luvari¡¯s cabin, or whatever it was, opened at his knock and Mitchell and Lethelin entered as they had before. The interior had changed slightly and instead of a table and chairs there were now sofas and an honest-to-god recliner from Earth, which is where the fey goddess was now lounging with a book and her pet dragon in her lap. Mitchell did a double-take when he recognized the cover. Harry Potter!

    ¡°Is that a La-Z-Boy?¡± he asked her in English.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ¡°It is!¡± the fey woman exclaimed happily as she looked up from her book. ¡°I saw it in a shop window when I was getting your food. The young man who allowed me the use of his credit card was happy to purchase it for me as well. Along with something your people call lingerie that I am quite eager to try on. Would you like to see it?¡±

    Mitchell coughed while Lethelin looked confused as she was unable to follow the conversation in his native tongue.

    ¡°No, that¡¯s okay,¡± Mitchell said, switching back to Common. ¡°Maybe another time.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re probably right,¡± Luvari sighed. ¡°But remember, Mitchell, all work and no play¡­¡±

    She gave him a sultry wink before hitting the button to bring the recliner back to its upright position. The little motor hummed as she came up into the sitting position and Mitchell gaped. She had electricity!

    Luvari got up with a stretch that accentuated all the sensuous curves of her hips, ass, and breasts. It was hard for Mitchell to look away and even Lethelin was admiring the fey woman¡¯s body.

    ¡°Even without magic your people have developed some amazing things,¡± Luvari said appreciatively. ¡°I will have to travel there more often.¡±

    Mitchell had a pang of guilt for whatever unfortunate Earth people she would choose to do her bidding. He hoped that the poor sap who had bought his burger and that recliner could afford it. Or that the lingerie purchase on his card didn¡¯t end up getting him divorced if some spouse saw it.

    With one last look at Lethelin, who nodded, he laid his cards on the table.

    ¡°Your price is too high,¡± Mitchell said without preamble. ¡°I would like to negotiate the terms.¡±

    A wicked glint came into the fey woman¡¯s mercurial eyes.

    ¡°My price is my price, traveler. I expect it to be paid or we don¡¯t have a deal.¡±

    The cold thrill of fear and uncertainty blossomed in his gut and, for a moment, he second guessed himself. Lethelin¡¯s subtle squeeze of her hand on his helped him find his resolve. Hoping his doubt wasn¡¯t plain on his face, he pushed on. Fey loved to bargain.

    ¡°The loss of Allora would be a great blow to our mission, but she already had plans in place if that should happen. I don¡¯t want to lose her, nor does Lethelin, but if we can¡¯t reach more suitable terms, we are prepared to push on without her. Allora made me promise that very thing, in fact. I gave her my word that I would.¡±

    Luvari narrowed her eyes and peered at him.

    ¡°Your chances of success were miniscule to start with,¡± she countered. ¡°Allora is more than just a sword and a krisa at your side, she is a symbol the beleaguered people of Awenor would rally behind were they to learn that she still lived. You need her. I can save her.¡±

    Mitchell didn¡¯t appreciate the dismissive tone of her voice and he found a bit of the metal returning to his spine.

    ¡°That¡¯s true, but I won¡¯t be taken advantage of to save her life. I won¡¯t be taken advantage of because I¡¯m not in the best position at the moment. And I wouldn¡¯t be a proper ruler of Awenor if I let the first pretty demigod in a form-hugging dress sucker me in a deal.¡±

    Mitchell guided Lethelin over to the loveseat across from the recliner and sat down. He leaned back and tried to think of what Harvey Specter would do. He was the lead character on a legal drama called Suits that he¡¯d been into during its run. He always presented himself as being in total control of any situation, even when he was bluffing his ass off. The opponent didn¡¯t know that, though. Harvey had a reputation of winning and, even when he had nothing, people feared that he was telling the truth. Mitchell was in much the same situation. He had nothing beyond a hope that the Lady Luvari wanted what they had badly enough to negotiate for it.

    There had been hints during their conversation that perhaps that was the case. She¡¯d only met three other moon children in her time on Tewadunn. She seemed fascinated by the futures involving Mitchell that she could apparently get a sense of. And she¡¯d said how rare elemental gemstones were, especially now that Awen was the sole surviving elemental on the entire planet. The fey woman was hungry for these items. At least he hoped she was. Most importantly, though, is that she needed to believe that he would walk away if she wasn¡¯t willing to negotiate.

    ¡°W-W-H-S-D,¡± Mitchell told himself. ¡°What would Harvey Specter do?¡±

    Harvey Specter would bluff his ass off.

    Mitchell leaned back in the loveseat, Lethelin pressed pleasantly into his side. He placed his arm around her shoulders, crossed one leg over the other with a bit of extra manspreading for the effect, and let out a sigh of satisfaction.

    ¡°This is comfy,¡± he said in what he hoped was a casual way. ¡°Now, as I was saying, we need to adjust the price. You have what we want, this is true, but we also have things that you want. We are willing to deal but only under more favorable terms. Otherwise, we will go on our merry way and you will have gone through all the trouble of dimension hopping and crafting your cure for nothing.¡±

    The little dragon thing poked its head out from under Luvari¡¯s dress and growled at them like an angry kitten. Perhaps it was picking up on some of its master¡¯s sudden foul mood. The fey woman paid it no mind. She only had eyes for Mitchell and they were as hard and brittle as cold steel.

    Mitchell suddenly felt a pressure on his mind and now that he knew what it was, her firmed his will against it and waggled his finger at Luvari as she glared down at him from her standing position.

    ¡°Ah ah ah, Laws of Hospitality,¡± he reminded her. ¡°None of that. Deal with us fairly or not at all.¡±

    Lady Luvari¡¯s lip curled up in the beginnings of a snarl, but she quickly got control of herself and the pressure on his mind eased. Suddenly she smiled but there was a hint of frost in it that wasn¡¯t there before.

    ¡°You are right, of course. My apologies.¡±

    She returned to her recliner and leaned back, giving him a measured look. The silence stretched and the tension got thicker. It made the back of Mitchell¡¯s neck itch. He knew the tactic for what it was, though. People got uncomfortable in silent situations. They tended to want to speak just to fill the void. He could feel himself wanting to give in, to apologize to her and take the deal she¡¯d offered. The doubt began to reassert itself. Allora would die and everything they¡¯d struggled for would be lost. Mitchell literally bit his tongue to keep from speaking and he pulled Lethelin in a little tighter to him for reassurance.

    Lethelin, for her part, had remained silent the entire time. They had decided that Mitchell would take point on this, despite Lethelin being a far better negotiator than he was. Back home Mitchell could barely haggle for a car but he needed to stand firm on this.

    Just as the sweat was beginning to drip down between his shoulder blades Luvari appeared to come to a decision.

    ¡°Very well. There might be room to negotiate. Let me hear your counter offer.¡±

    It took all of Mitchell¡¯s willpower not to sag in relief.

    ¡°WWHSD,¡± he repeated in his mind. ¡°He sure as hell wouldn¡¯t sag in relief. Sack up!¡±

    ¡°The lady is both kind and generous,¡± he said with a genuinely polite smile.

    Now came the hard part.

    ¡°As a demonstration of our appreciation for you seeking us out in our time of need in the first place, Lethelin has agreed to give you the full amount of blood you requested and I will agree to a memory. I will not be giving you my full name, however. People in my culture often have three names: a first, a middle, and a last name. I will give you my first true name. And, once more, because the stones are not mine to give, I can only part with one of them. They are sacred relics to Allora and I would be stealing by giving you one at all. Someone as generous as you would surely understand and appreciate that. How would you feel if someone stole something of yours while you were incapacitated?¡±

    ¡°Relics they may be,¡± Lady Luvari said, thoughtfully. ¡°But their true owners are dead and they no more belong to Allora than to you. They are loot from a corpse. The only one who can rightfully claim them is Awen and she¡¯s not here to contest my claim. I want two.¡±

    ¡°And yet, you¡¯ll only get one,¡± Mitchell said, matching the hard edge in her voice. ¡°I¡¯ve examined them, they are all undamaged and flawless. You may never get a chance like this again. Lethelin tells me that it has been generations since anyone has had a piece of one of the other elementals. Likely they don¡¯t exist at all anymore.¡±

    ¡°Well, the ones in the throne in Iletish,¡± Lethelin interjected, just as they had planned.

    ¡°Oh, right,¡± Mitchell said, as if suddenly remembering. ¡°But those are purely decorative at this point. Their ability to be used as anything more than pretty baubles is long gone. And Awen doesn¡¯t part with pieces of herself easily. Like your chance with Lethelin, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. One stone is sufficient.¡±

    Luvari stared at him so hard he thought should could have driven nails through his skin with just her glare alone. She tapped one long finger against her pale lips.

    ¡°I will consider this counter proposal of only your first name and a single stone if you offer up something else as well.¡±

    ¡°What did you have in mind?¡±

    For the first time since their negotiations began, Luvari looked to Lethelin.

    ¡°I want to study her talents. I want two weeks of time to observe her. Unobstructed and undisturbed. Only her and I.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Lethelin exclaimed. ¡°Absolutely not!¡±

    ¡°You will not be harmed, moon child,¡± Luvari said as if she were speaking to a toddler throwing a tantrum. ¡°I will take you to one of my homes where your every need will be seen to while you are in my care. I give my word.¡±

    Mitchell looked at Lethelin then and she glared back at him. He gave her a look and she gave him one back.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t sound so bad,¡± he told her. ¡°She¡¯ll probably have more of that fish you like.¡±

    ¡°Mitchell!¡± she pleaded.

    ¡°I won¡¯t order you to,¡± he told her quietly, even though he was sure Luvari could hear every word. ¡°But I am asking you.¡±

    ¡°Fine!¡± she said in a huff but she pulled away from him and crossed her arms.

    ¡°She accepts,¡± Mitchell said though it was unnecessary. ¡°But I have conditions. It must be a home on Tewadunn. As I understand it, time moves differently in different realms. I want two weeks Tewadunn time for both her and I.¡±

    Luvari made a face of displeasure and tsk¡¯d at him. Maybe she hadn¡¯t expected him to know about that. For all he knew Luvari would take Lethelin to some world where it was two weeks here but ten years for her. He didn¡¯t know if that was possible but he wouldn¡¯t put it past her.

    ¡°Agreed,¡± she said. ¡°Now, will there be anything else?¡±

    ¡°You have to wait until I¡¯ve reclaimed the throne before she goes with you. I need her with me for now.¡±

    ¡°I am not a fan of waiting, traveler.¡±

    ¡°I understand, but she is too important to me and the mission for her to leave my side right now.¡±

    Luvari expelled a breath from her nose and crossed her arms which served to shove her ample breasts up until they nearly exploded out of her bodice.

    ¡°Very well,¡± she relented. ¡°Now, will that be all?¡±

    Mitchell looked once more to Lethelin who stared daggers at him and rolled her eyes. He suppressed a chuckle.

    ¡°Lethelin will not be harmed or manipulated in any way, either physically or mentally?¡±

    ¡°Correct,¡± Luvari said. ¡°I only wish to study her talents under controlled conditions.¡±

    ¡°One last thing, then,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°After this is done, we would like to rest and recover in your home until both Lethelin and Allora are ready to travel again. You said Lethelin would be weak for a day or two after, and I¡¯m assuming Allora will need more time than that.¡±

    Luvari pursed her lips thoughtfully.

    ¡°I will give you the use of this space for three days. Food and wash facilities will be made available. When the fire goes out, the home will disappear and if you are not out by that time, you will be forcefully ejected back into the cave.¡±

    ¡°That is more than generous, Lady Luvari,¡± Mitchell told her. ¡°Thank you,¡±

    Luvari sniffed in a self-satisfied way.

    ¡°We have a deal,¡± she said with finality. Then a wide smile spread over her face. ¡°Well done, traveler. Well done, indeed.¡±

 Chapter 43

    Under Luvari¡¯s guidance, Mitchell and Lethelin broke down the tent and moved Allora¡¯s body into the cabin. Rather than stay in the main room, Mitchell carried her through the doorway with the beaded curtains. Inside, he saw a bedroom with two roughly twin-sized mattresses and a chair.

    ¡°Place her there,¡± Luvari said, indicating the bed to the left. ¡°And strap her down. Make sure they are tight.¡±

    It was then that Mitchell saw the thick leather straps hanging down and dragging the floor. Each one was almost three inches wide and at least a quarter of an inch thick.

    Once he had her laying in the bed, Lethelin helped him bind her arms, wrists, chest, head, legs and feet.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± he muttered to himself in English after they stood up from their work.

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Luvari said from behind him as she scanned his work. ¡°This far along cleansing the curse from her body will not be easy. And elves are strong.¡±

    ¡°The other bed is for you, moon child,¡± Luvari said. ¡°Extracting your blood will leave you weak, and you¡¯ll want to be lying down. Would you prefer to do it now, or after I have cleansed the knight?¡±

    Lethelin looked to Mitchell, but he only shrugged.

    ¡°It¡¯s up to you,¡± he said simply.

    Lethelin looked at her bed warily then back to Luvari.

    ¡°I think I¡¯ll wait until after you¡¯ve finished with Allora.¡±

    Luvari gave her a single nod, then asked Mitchell the same question.

    ¡°Are there any effects of having a memory removed? Or of giving you my name?¡±

    ¡°Yes to the first, no to the second. Extracting a core memory often leaves the subject feeling disoriented for a time, but not overly so.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll wait as well.¡±

    ¡°As you wish,¡± Luvari said. ¡°Stand clear, please. Feel free to sit on the bed or wait outside. The creature that has grown inside her will seek a new host, but I will contain it. You will be safe.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s something inside her?¡± Mitchell asked, surprised.

    The fey woman blinked.

    ¡°Of course,¡± she said in a somewhat surprised tone. ¡°What do you think has been consuming her mana? If it fully matures, it will consume her soul as the last act before it totally possesses her body and turns her into a wraith.¡±

    ¡°Will it die when you take it out?¡±

    ¡°I cannot kill it on this plane. I can only banish back to the one it from which it came.¡±

    Mitchell nodded, and he and Lethelin went to the other bed and sat. Luvari approached the head of the bed, pulling the vial of black liquid from her pocket as she did so.

    ¡°This will make her body toxic to the creature,¡± she explained, as she placed her hand behind Allora¡¯s neck and pulled up slightly, tilting Allora¡¯s head back. ¡°Once it emerges, I will contain it and then send it back where it belongs.¡±

    Mitchell was getting strong Exorcist and Constantine vibes as he watched Luvari unstop the vial and pour it delicately into her mouth. Once the vial was empty, the fey woman pushed Allora¡¯s jaw shut and clamped her hand over Allora¡¯s mouth and nose with evident force.

    ¡°I will release her from stasis now. Get ready. And don¡¯t interfere.¡±

    Mitchell felt a slight tingle across his skin, but that was all the warning he had. On the bed across from him, Allora¡¯s body suddenly bucked, and she began to thrash wildly. The bed frame creaked and groaned as her body pulled against the restraints and her eyes snapped open emitting a bluish-white glow. Luvari held her head firm as Allora tried to free herself from the straps. Mitchell could hear a feral growl trying to escape Allora¡¯s throat, but Luvari¡¯s hand blocked any air that might escape.

    ¡°Oh, but you are a strong one,¡± Luvari said, almost as if she admired the display. ¡°But be a good mana leech and swallow what momma gave you. That¡¯s a good girl.¡±

    Allora, or whatever was inside Allora, twisted and yanked, sliding the bed several inches across the floor, but the straps held. Just barely in Mitchell¡¯s estimation. He felt a pressure on his arm and looked down to see that Lethelin was gripping him tightly, her eyes wide with terror.

    ¡°Shhhh, it¡¯s okay. Swallow it all down, there you go,¡± Luvari cooed. ¡°We¡¯ll get you out of the nice elf and send you back where you belong.¡±

    Allora¡¯s body convulsed then, bending upward as if trying to go into a fetal position. The bed bent upward as Allora contracted and something in the frame groaned and snapped, but it wasn¡¯t one of the straps. As the bed settled back down, now warped and uneven, Luvari finally stood up and removed her hand. Allora gasped, pulled in a large breath, then began hacking and wheezing.

    ¡°I know, it burns, doesn¡¯t it? You¡¯ll feel much better if you come out, don¡¯t you think? Come on. Out of that nice elf lady¡¯s body. That¡¯s a good leech.¡±

    A string of sounds Mitchell had never heard before came frothing out of Allora¡¯s mouth and her face twisted in pure rage.

    ¡°Language!¡± Luvari said and clucked her tongue.

    Sweat was pouring off Allora¡¯s body, and she began to shudder violently. The glow from her eyes brightened in intensity then faded, then surged again. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    ¡°Mitchell!¡± Allora suddenly called out, her voice normal once more as those glowing eyes found him sitting there with Lethelin. ¡°She¡¯s killing me, Mitchell. Stop her, please! Don¡¯t let her kill me!¡±

    Mitchell wasn¡¯t stupid enough to fall for it. He¡¯d seen something like this often enough in movies and read about it in books. Still, even though he knew it wasn¡¯t really Allora, part of him ached to go to her. It had been agonizing to see her get sicker and to be able to do nothing for her.

    He glared back at the creature wearing Allora like a party mask and said, ¡°Time for you to go.¡±

    Allora¡¯s face twisted with impotent fury, and she began to curse at him, only some of which he understood. She turned that hateful gaze onto Lethelin then, but before she could get any actual words out her body seized up once more, and then she started to convulse violently. A voice that sounded like it belonged to an Icelandic death metal singer screamed as she tried once again to break free of the restraints. Something else in the bed gave way, and it sagged to one side. The glow from her eyes intensified, and Mitchell saw that the light was permeating her skin as well.

    Only then did Luvari move from her place at the head of the bed. She walked to the center and held her hands up and began to whisper an incantation. The air around Allora¡¯s writhing body rippled, and Mitchell could just make out a shroud or a dome that had settled in place around her as she shuddered.

    ¡°Almost there, you can do it,¡± Luvari said to the creature. ¡°Just a little bit more¡­¡±

    Allora let loose a scream of primal fury that began to increase in pitch and volume until both Mitchell and Lethelin winced and had to cover their ears. His skin began to itch and then, as the scream went on much longer than humanly possible, began to feel like needles were jabbing into his flesh. Lethelin apparently felt it too as she began to squirm. Mitchell felt his insides begin to quiver from the sonic assault, and he squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his muscles tight to try and endure the power of it.

    Just as he thought the noise was going to turn his brain to jelly, the sound stopped. The silence was so sudden it took his breath away, and he titled forward, almost falling off the bed as the pressure he was fighting against vanished. Beside him, he felt Lethelin struggle to right herself just as he had. Mitchell slowly opened his eyes and pulled his hands away from his ears, which were ringing loudly.

    In front of him the bed was a twisted ruin, half on its side, only one leg still supporting it. Allora¡¯s body hung limply in the straps like wet laundry over a clothes line. Above her, floating at about chest height, Mitchell caught his first sight of the creature that had nearly killed her.

    It was a parasite. That was the best way he could describe it. A worm. It was broad and flat maybe a foot wide, an inch thick, and about two meters long, although it was hard to tell as it was swimming around in the bubble in which Luvari had captured it. It curved and looped around, testing the barrier in which it now found itself.  Its body was an opaque white, and it glowed with the same blueish white light that had been shining from Allora¡¯s eyes moments before.

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re a big one, you are,¡± Luvari said.

    The creature responded to her voice and threw itself at the barrier, and Mitchell could see a mouth, of sorts. It reminded him of the mouths of parasitic worms he¡¯d seen in his biology textbook. A small hole ringed with teeth-like protrusions. It sucked hungrily at the barrier, but it could find no purchase.

    Mitchell got slowly to his feet on wobbly legs. Lethelin was hunched over and didn¡¯t join him. He stepped up next to Luvari and stared at the thing, then down at Allora who looked dead herself. He could make out a weak rise and fall of her chest, though, so she still lived.

    ¡°Poor mindless thing,¡± Luvari said. It sounded like she meant it.

    ¡°Poor? It nearly killed Allora!¡±

    ¡°It was just feeding,¡± Luvari replied. ¡°It¡¯s a creature of instinct and hunger. Dangerous, yes, but not evil. Evil implies intent. Is a virus evil? Bacteria? Blame the one who put it in her.¡±

    ¡°Well, I think I know who did it, and he¡¯s dead.¡±

    ¡°Just as well.¡±

    Lethelin joined them then and looked in terrified awe at the parasite that swam around its prison.

    ¡°Are you sure you can¡¯t kill it?¡±

    ¡°Possibly, but it is far easier to banish it.¡±

    Luvari brought her hands up to either side of the bubble and guided it away from Allora and toward the end of the bed.

    ¡°Do you know where it came from?¡± Mitchell asked her.

    ¡°I have some ideas, but the multiverse is vast, and I don¡¯t care to find out exactly where. No place nice, I can assure you. Summoned creatures like this one require energy to maintain a presence in a foreign realm. The magic that makes it possible is included in the spell that brings them here and binds them. If I interrupt that, it can¡¯t maintain its presence, and is pulled back to its home dimension.

    ¡°Like¡­¡± she paused and Mitchell felt his ears pop. ¡°This!¡±

    The parasite began to vibrate and blur, and then it began to fold in on itself geometrically. From the center of the bubble a little black void appeared, and the shrinking parasite was sucked down into it as if the void was a miniature black hole. Then, it was gone.

    Luvari dispelled the containment bubble and let out a contented sigh.

    ¡°That¡¯s my part of our deal concluded,¡± Luvari said, and made as if to brush the dust from her hands. ¡°Now, it¡¯s your turn.¡±

    ¡°Can we see to Allora first?¡±

    ¡°Hmm? Oh, yes.¡± Luvari said, as if she had already forgotten about the elf. ¡°She really did a number on that bed. It¡¯s safe to unstrap her. You can lay her in the other one. She will be unconscious for several hours, I suspect, but she will live.¡±

    Lethelin helped Mitchell get her unhooked from the damaged bed and placed her gently in the fresh one. After that, Lethelin volunteered to have her blood drawn as the first part of their payment. Now that the other bed was occupied, Luvari led the wary thief back out into the living room saying she would extract the blood as she sat in the La-Z-Boy. She assured him she would be fine and he should stay with Allora.

    Mitchell grabbed one of the chairs from the other side of the room and sat it next to the bed. He pulled her hand into his and held it. From out in the living room, he heard Lethelin yelp.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s balls, woman! That hurt!¡±

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be a baby! It¡¯s just a needle stick.¡±

    ¡°Maybe don¡¯t use a needle bigger than a dragon¡¯s cock!¡±

    ¡°You whine an awful lot for someone who¡¯s supposed to be a hardened assassin.¡±

    Mitchell couldn¡¯t help but grin listening to the two women bicker.

    He was exhausted, both mentally and physically. Allora would be okay, though. He knew he wasn¡¯t supposed to care about her more than the mission, but he didn¡¯t feel bad about doing so. He held her hand, felt the callouses on her palm, traced each one with his finger.

    Mitchell tried to imagine what she was like before all this had happened. He tried to imagine that young girl sneaking around in the palace and getting caught. Skipping her lessons, being carefree, having every opportunity open for her. Mitchell wanted her to be able to smile easily again.

    Inadvertently, his mind went back to that morning after the fight with Dakath when she¡¯d collapsed from exhaustion on the trail and woken up delirious. If she was speaking honestly, Allora had killed someone. Maybe it had been a mercy killing ¨C that¡¯s what it had sounded like, at least ¨C but it was obviously eating her up inside. He wasn¡¯t sure what to do with that knowledge. When she was better, should he ask her about it? Maybe if she talked to him, unburdened herself, she would feel better.

    ¡°A problem for later,¡± he said out loud.

    With his free hand, he reached up and brushed some of the bleached and sweat-dampened hair from her forehead. Then, no longer content to just sit in the chair, he stood, kicked his boots off, and crawled into the bed beside her. As gently as he could manage, he lifted her head and slid his arm underneath her and pulled her into him. He felt tension begin to drain out of him as he lay there, feeling her chest rise and fall.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to be okay,¡± he whispered to her.

    It might have been wishful thinking on his part, but he thought he felt her body relax into his just a little bit. Slowly, Mitchell nodded off.

 Chapter 44

    ¡°What was Grandpa like when he was younger?¡±

    Mitchell¡¯s dad looked up from the old photo album he was thumbing through in grandpa¡¯s den. His father had taken off his tie somewhere between the wake at the funeral home and the drive back to the now-empty house. Mitchell knew his dad hated ties, that they made him feel like he was a collared dog, but he¡¯d worn one today. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, and Mitchell, now 13 years of age, thought it made his dad look older somehow.

    ¡°He was¡­ complicated,¡± Mitchell¡¯s father said, his eyes taking on a faraway look.

    ¡°Mom used to say that the war changed a lot about him,¡± he added. ¡°When he got back from Vietnam, something was off about him. He never liked to talk about it, and therapists weren¡¯t really a thing back then. But she loved him still, and they made it work. Sort of.¡±

    To Mitchell, his grandfather was this grumpy, sour old man who had spent the last few years of his life hooked up to a ventilator, watching reruns of Walker, Texas Ranger and Clint Eastwood movies. Dad had said it was some secret agent named Orange that had made Grandpa sick, but that didn¡¯t make a lot of sense to him. Mitchell hadn¡¯t spent much time with him the last few years as the cancer and then the emphysema took its toll. The last year, he¡¯d seen him only twice, at Christmas and at Grandpa¡¯s birthday. Both times had not been pleasant. Grandpa had seemed angry at everyone just for being able to walk around, while he was mostly confined to his chair and breathing machine.

    ¡°I knew he loved us, your Aunt Vicki and me. He just didn¡¯t know how to talk about it. People from his generation weren¡¯t always great about that. But he was still a hard bastard to live with sometimes.¡±

    Mitchell looked around the clutter of the den. The scent of cigarettes and medicine were still thick in the air, and a thin layer of dust coated every surface. The desk and coffee table were piled high with old Field & Stream magazines, pill bottles, and wadded up tissues. On the wood-paneled walls were faded black-and-white, and sepia toned pictures of Mitchell¡¯s grandpa and grandma, the latter of whom had died when Mitchell was still in elementary school. He could barely remember her, just a smiling plump old woman who always had butterscotch candies in her dress pockets and made really good biscuits. His mom had the recipe but they had never been quite the same.

    There were pictures of them, smiling and happy, looking younger than Mitchell¡¯s father, then pictures of Dad when he was a baby, and later Aunt Vicki. And a lot of pictures of Grandpa when he was in the Marines. As his dad continued to page through the old photo album, Mitchell did his own probing. He¡¯d never really been allowed in here before, and the shelves were filled with oddities that excited his young mind.

    There were the books, for one thing. Loads of books on military history and wars. World War II, Korea, Vietnam, and a few from the First World War. Stuffed between the books were models of classic cars and hot rods, a few planes, old keychains, big heavy steel lighters with skulls or weapons engraved on them, and a lot of things with ¡°Marines¡± and unit numbers as well. One thing in particular caught his attention as he scanned through all the shelves. It was a small dark wooden box with a glass lid a little bit bigger than his hand. He slid it from the shelf and examined it.

    Inside, secured to velvet-lined backing, was a medal. The ribbon was blue with a white line running down the center, and attached to the ribbon was a gold cross with an old-style sailing ship in the center. It wasn¡¯t a cross like his Christian friend Amanda wore, the arms of this one were even on all sides.

    ¡°Dad,¡± Mitchell asked, looking up at where his father was poking around Grandpa¡¯s desk. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡±

    ¡°Lemme see,¡± his father replied, and so Mitchell walked over and handed him the surprisingly heavy case.

    Mitchell¡¯s dad opened it and stared at the medal for a long time before speaking.

    ¡°This is called a Navy Cross,¡± he said finally. ¡°It¡¯s one of the highest honors they give to Marines. It was your grandpa¡¯s.¡±

    Mitchell¡¯s dad looked up from examining the medal, and Mitchell saw that his eyes were moist.

    ¡°Did he ever tell you how he got it?¡±

    Mitchell shook his head.

    ¡°He did a great thing in the war. Saved a lot of people. He was kind of a hero.¡±

    Mitchell¡¯s dad gestured the plush leather sofa across from the desk.

    ¡°Have a seat, I¡¯ll tell you about it.¡±

    Mitchell went to the sofa and cleared away some of the clutter so he could sit. Mitchell¡¯s dad joined him and took the medal delicately out of the box and placed it in Mitchell¡¯s hand.

    ¡°Grandpa went to the war early. Around 1964. He was barely eighteen when he got his marching orders. He and your grandma were high school sweethearts, and they got married just three days before he shipped out to Camp Pendleton. But my grandpa ¨C your great-grandpa ¨C had been a Marine during World War II, and had fought the Japanese in the Pacific. Your grandpa enlisted almost as soon as he turned eighteen.¡±

    Mitchell had only ever seen very old photos of his great-grandfather. He¡¯d died in a car crash when Grandpa had been young.

    ¡°So, your grandpa was sent to Vietnam in the early days of the war. He said that he and his squad were¨C¡±

    Mitchell looked up at his dad, who had stopped speaking. His father was frozen mid-sentence.

    ¡°Dad?¡± Mitchell said.

    His father didn¡¯t respond. Something caught Mitchell¡¯s attention from the corner of his eyes. He looked, and the surrounding walls were melting. Like ice cream on a hot day, the textures were running down the walls, blending together. The shelves bowed under the weight of the books, which themselves were beginning to be pulled downward under their own weight. The large wooden desk across from where they sat was dripping large chunks of itself which plopped wetly on the floor and then began to sink into the hardwood floor as well.

    ¡°Dad!¡± Mitchell cried out in panic.

    Mitchell turned and looked to see his father melting into the sofa and then Mitchell saw his own hands. The medal he¡¯d been holding so carefully before, this sacred thing, was sinking into his flesh and the skin around his fingers was running off his bones like hot candle wax.

    ¡°Dad!¡± Mitchell screamed, and his vision began to shift as his eyes began to slip down his face. The coffee table had become a puddle of brown with colors swirling around that had been magazines only moments before. Mitchell couldn¡¯t move. He could feel his body sliding into the sofa and begin to spread out.

    ¡°Daaaaad heellllp!¡±

    ***

    Mitchell sat up with a scream.

    ¡°Dad! Dad, help! I¨C¡±

    He stopped and blinked. Next to him was a beautiful woman with the most pale skin he¡¯d ever seen. Hair as white as a snow-covered field with eyes to match. Her alabaster face was so stunning it almost took his breath away.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t so bad now, was it?¡± the strange woman said to him gently.

    There was a light pink flush on her snow-white cheeks and a faint sheen of sweat on her brow.

    ¡°Such a powerful memory. So much pain, pride, and love.¡±

    The woman¡¯s eyes rolled back in her head, a sultry smile curling her milky lips, and shuddered in an almost sexual way. No, she had a name, Mitchell thought. It was¡­

    ¡°Luvari,¡± Mitchell recalled. ¡°Your name is Luvari. You¡¯re a¡­ You¡¯re a fairy.¡±

    ¡°A fey,¡± She corrected him, her voice languid and thick with honey. She almost moaned the words. ¡°Although, if we¡¯re being very technical, I¡¯m an arch-fey. But we don¡¯t need to quibble about the titles.¡±

    Details began to come back to him, then. It was as if he¡¯d awoken from a very deep sleep and didn¡¯t recall where he was, but pieces began to click into place. The deal for Allora¡¯s life, and the memory.

    Mitchell¡¯s mind began to race as he struggled to recall the memory. The story from his father about his grandfather. The day of his funeral, his grandfather had done something. He was a hero. He had¡­

    He racked his brain trying to recall what it was, but it was as if it had never happened at all. Luvari really had plucked the memory from his brain and erased it. He could remember the day of the funeral, he remembered walking into the den after his father when they returned home. His mother had stayed in the living room with his sister, Aunt Vicky, and her husband. But when Mitchell¡¯s father had excused himself from the conversation, Mitchell had decided to follow. The medicine and sick smell had been especially strong in the living room where his grandfather¡¯s hospital bed had been. It had made him a little nauseous.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Mitchell could remember about the memory. For example, it was the only time he could recall that his father had cried. He had memories of having the memory, as strange as it felt to say that. He remembered how impactful it had been, hearing about whatever it was his grandfather had done to get the Navy Cross. It had moved him so much that he almost joined the Marines after high school, but he had become disillusioned with the military after watching how the war in Afghanistan had gone on nearly his whole life. Everything had become political in his opinion, with soldiers no longer fighting for freedom but for someone else¡¯s greedy agenda. Maybe it had always been that way, he reasoned at the time, but when the time came to choose military or college, he just didn¡¯t have the gung-ho spirit that he¡¯d had when he heard the story of his grandfather¡¯s heroism. But it had had a profound impact on him as a young kid on the verge of manhood and it was his first glimpse into what words like ¡°honor¡± and ¡°duty¡± really meant. And it was gone, now.

    Next to where he lay on the floor, Luvari seemed to be coming down off her high. She arched her back and stretched feline-like, which once again strained the bodice to near its breaking point. With a deep breath, she looked back at him.

    ¡°What a day!¡± she said gleefully. ¡°Now, the stone and your true name and your account will settled.¡±

    Mitchell blinked then recalled the last pieces of their deal. One of the three pieces of Awen that had come from the swords of the fallen Onyx Knights. His guts twisted at the thought of taking it from Allora but she would just have to understand. As for his name, he still didn¡¯t fully appreciate the reason for that but it must be valuable for some purpose or she wouldn¡¯t have asked for it.

    ¡°The stones are in her pack in the cave. I will get one. And then you can have my name.¡±

    Luvari got gracefully to her feet in one fluid motion from where she had been kneeling and reached out a hand to help him up. He accepted the offer and slid his hand into hers. Her skin was cool to the touch, and he thought he felt a slight tingling as she gripped him and pulled him almost effortlessly to his feet.

    Mitchell exited the bedroom and out into the living room area to see Lethelin still passed out in the La-Z-Boy, a bandage wrapped around her arm where Luvari had withdrawn the blood. She also looked a little pale and next to her on the table were a plate of cookies and a glass of juice that had been mostly finished off. On the floor next to her, were three clear glass bottles that contained a dark red substance that Mitchell didn¡¯t need to guess at. Each one was stoppered securely.

    ¡°She¡¯ll sleep for awhile and wake up tired but fine. Have her eat as much meat as you can. Her body will need to replenish the iron.¡±

    Mitchell gave Luvari an appraising look.

    ¡°How do you know so much about biology? The people in this world don¡¯t even use electricity.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m older than I look, and I have traveled to many worlds,¡± she said with an air of superiority. ¡°Also, don¡¯t be so quick to judge the people of this world just because they don¡¯t use electricity. They can do things with mana that your scientists could not even fathom. Just because they don¡¯t drive cars and have TikTok doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯re stupid.¡±

    ¡°How do you know about TikTok?¡±

    ¡°I spent a week in your world and I learned quite a bit. It¡¯s progressed far since the dragon lords first found it and brought their slaves over. I visited a few times in the past, but the lack of magic there makes me weak. That¡¯s why the fey rarely visit. We have more need of mana than someone like Allora. Elves, humans, and the other races can utilize it, but for the fey it helps sustain us. Allora won¡¯t die without her magic, but eventually we would.¡±

    Mitchell returned quickly with the stone which she admired for a moment, then secreted away into one of her dress pockets. After that she directed him to sit in one of the chairs and pulled one to sit across from him.

    ¡°And now, for the last,¡± she said, looking into his eyes.

    On the other side of the room, Lethelin suddenly began to snore. Mitchell grinned and shook his head and Luvari rolled her eyes.

    ¡°So, do I just say my name?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s more involved than that. You must imbue the name with your identity. You must mean it. You must feel who you are and push that into the words as you speak them.¡±

    ¡°How do I do that?¡± Mitchell asked her, genuinely confused. ¡°My name is my name.¡±

    ¡°It is usually helpful to think of your mother,¡± Luvari explained. ¡°Think of how she spoke your name. Think of the pull you felt when she called to you. She was doing more than just speaking, even if she didn¡¯t know that. She was invoking your name, calling to your soul. That is what we need.¡±

    It sounded absurd to him, but Mitchell had learned enough to know that he should take it seriously. He did as she asked, settling back into his chair and diving once more into his memories, thinking of times with his mother. He went back farther and farther, some of his earliest memories that he still possessed. He felt a tingle across his skin and looked up to see that Luvari had closed her eyes and was in an almost trancelike state.

    ¡°No, we need to go back farther,¡± she said slowly.

    Mitchell knew then that she was in his mind.

    ¡°I thought you couldn¡¯t go into my mind,¡± Mitchell said with an edge to his voice.

    ¡°I cannot charm you,¡± she answered calmly. ¡°I can enter your mind as you have not yet learned to shield yourself. How do you think I learned about your home and the food you liked? But I can aid you in finding the right utterance of your name.¡±

    Mitchell felt himself pulled along into his mind and into memories he was not consciously aware he possessed. It was almost as if he were watching them on a television screen.

    ¡°I think this will do,¡± Luvari said. Her voice was only inside his mind now.

    In the memory, Mitchell was looking up at the ceiling. His mother was standing over him and looking down at him with a beatific smile. Mitchell¡¯s vision was at about waist height to her so he guessed he was on the changing table. He vaguely recalled selling it at a yard sale when he was about ten.

    And his mother! She looked so young! She would only have been about twenty five. Her long curly auburn hair was past her shoulders, her blue eyes bright and unwrinkled. She was wearing a Dead Kennedy¡¯s t-shirt that said ¡®Give me convenience or give me death!¡¯ and a hemp choker with a little pewter pot leaf on it.

    The memory consumed Mitchell, and suddenly he was in this toddler form of himself. He felt the awkward kicking of his legs and his inability to properly control his hands. And he felt an overwhelming surge of love for the woman in front of him. His little body vibrated with the desire to be close to her, to be held by her warm embrace and to feel her hair tickling his nose. His mother, young and beautiful.

    ¡°My cute little baby boy,¡± his mother said and she reached up to stroke his pudgy cheeks. At her touch, his body kicked out and he made a futile attempt to grab at her fingers but he couldn¡¯t quite work out how to move his little digits. She was warm and safe. She was everything that was good in his confusing and sometimes terrifying existence.

    ¡°I still think Lux Allen would have been better, but I let your dad win that one. Don¡¯t tell him, though, that¡¯s just between us,¡± she said. ¡°Gotta pick your battles, doncha!¡±

    She ran her hand through his downy hair and his infant body went into spasms at the pleasure of the feeling.

    Mitchell was a little taken aback by that revelation. She¡¯d wanted to name him Lux? He had never heard that before. That was almost as bad as Frank Zappa naming his kids Dweezil and Moon Unit. Then, he understood. The Cramps was one of his mother¡¯s favorite bands, and Lux Interior was the lead singer¡¯s stage name.

    ¡°Jesus, mom!¡± Mitchell said to himself.

    He said a silent thank you to his dad for not letting that one pass.

    ¡°But that¡¯s okay, you¡¯re still momma¡¯s boy.¡±

    She smiled then, the way only a mother can.

    ¡°My little Mitchell.¡±

    Mitchell then felt the power of his name.

    In the memory, his mother was looking straight into his eyes. Mitchell, in his infant form, was looking straight back into hers. When she said his name at that moment, it tugged at something inside his tiny body. He recognized it as his name. He didn¡¯t know what that meant on a conscious level. They were just sounds to him, but his soul knew it for what it was. Now, decades removed from this moment, he could feel what Luvari had been talking about. With that knowledge also came the revelation that he could speak his true name. He still didn¡¯t know what it was for but he could honor the final payment.

    ¡°I have it,¡± Mitchell said out loud.

    Luvari didn¡¯t answer. Instead, he felt the memory began to slowly fade. He wanted to call out to his mother as it left him. The ache of homesickness felt like it was squeezing his heart near to bursting.

    How long had it been since he¡¯d talked to his parents? He honestly didn¡¯t know. A month? Two months? He didn¡¯t know the date and while Lethelin and Allora had begun to teach him the calendar, he didn¡¯t have it down yet and he doubt it would matter if he did. Time moved differently here. A day here might be three days on Earth. Allora had said she was in Phoenix hunting for him for what sounded like two or three months but it had only been a few weeks here.

    Mitchell felt the tears in his eyes then but didn¡¯t wipe them away. If he died here, if he never saw them again, the least they deserved were honest tears of loss.

    ¡°Your mother was very beautiful,¡± Luvari said suddenly. She almost sounded comforting.

    Mitchell took a breath and shoved the homesickness away, as he had been doing for weeks now. He tried not to let it show, especially in light of what Allora had sacrificed and with the weight of what they were doing pressing down on all of them. It felt insignificant compared to that. But seeing his mother so clearly just then had brought that feeling back with interest.

    ¡°She really was. She doesn¡¯t look like that now, though. Almost thirty years, two kids, and gravity takes its toll. I¡¯d only seen her like that in photos, but they didn¡¯t do her justice.¡±

    ¡°She moved to Seattle for college when she was nineteen,¡± Mitchell explained, suddenly feeling like he needed to share. ¡°She was going to major in poli-sci and go into politics. She wanted to change the world!¡±

    Mitchell chuckled at the story that had been shared so often as he grew up.

    ¡°She met my dad a year or two later at a little club where they were both seeing a band called Nirvana. My father said it was love at first sight. He saw her there with another guy, but he could tell she wasn¡¯t really into him. He said he fell in love with her the moment he saw her.¡±

    ¡°I just knew,¡± Mitchell repeated his father¡¯s words slowly. ¡°I knew she had come with that other guy, but that she was going home with me.¡±

    He looked up at Luvari and saw her smiling gently at him.

    ¡°And she did?¡± the fey woman asked.

    ¡°She did.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a lovely story.¡±

    Mitchell thought it sounded like she actually meant it.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing special,¡± Mitchell countered, suddenly embarrassed. He was supposed to be the savior of a whole kingdom, and here he was talking about how his mother and father met.

    ¡°Love is always special,¡± she told him matter-of-factly.

    It was quiet for a moment, but it wasn¡¯t uncomfortable, Mitchell found. This mysterious creature already knew so much about him that it almost felt like they were old friends, even though he couldn¡¯t even begin to comprehend what exactly she even was.

    ¡°Is that why you fight so hard for her?¡±

    Mitchell knew who she meant. He debated for a second trying to deflect, but then remembered she¡¯d been in his mind and there was no point.

    ¡°Yes. I always wanted what my father and mother had. That love-at-first sight moment, you know? I couldn¡¯t admit it at the time ¨C I was terrified of it ¨C but when Allora found me that night, I¡­¡± Mitchell paused as he remembered.

    ¡°I loved her that first moment. She was powerful and beautiful, and I knew I would do anything for her.¡±

    ¡°You should tell her that,¡± Luvari said.

    ¡°I tried,¡± Mitchell confessed. ¡°She shuts herself off anytime I even start. I think something happened to her. Something bad. There are moments where it looks like she feels the same way, but then she goes cold and distant.¡±

    ¡°In time, perhaps,¡± Luvari mused. ¡°But the hour is late and you have to rest. Today has been a difficult one for you.¡±

    Mitchell only nodded.

    ¡°When you are ready,¡± she said.

    Mitchell looked at where she sat expectantly and knew he had to get it over with. He summoned that feeling forth, the one had felt when his mother had spoken his true name. It resonated within him as he repeated his name in his mind, not unlike when he called forth his mana.

    With a final deep breath, he spoke his true name.

 Chapter 45

    The blackness that clouded Allora¡¯s mind began to recede. She found herself in that twilight area of consciousness where one is not quite asleep but not quite awake. The sense of her body was the first thing that returned to her. She was laying on something soft. She felt warm and ensconced in a thick blanket that was pleasantly heavy. Her sense of smell told her that the bedding was clean and recently washed. She almost drifted back into unconsciousness, but a thought was tickling the back of her mind. She knew who she was but couldn¡¯t recall what it was that she¡¯d been doing before she went to bed. It was still shrouded in the fog. There was something she was supposed to be doing. A person she was supposed to protect. It was¡­ He was¡­

    Even in her drowsy state, she felt her forehead knit together as she struggled to remember. Her mind felt sluggish, and her thoughts weren¡¯t forming correctly. Flashes came to her of strange places. Impossibly high buildings covered in glass. There were metallic carriages that moved on small black wheels without any animals or magic pulling or propelling them. And the speed! They moved at impossible velocity over perfectly smooth roads. She had gone to that place. She had traveled there to¡­ to¡­

    Mitchell!

    Her eyes flew open as that name triggered a cascade in her brain. The fog was blasted away, and a torrent of memories came crashing through her consciousness and left her gasping. Fully awake now, she fought to order her thoughts. Although her memories had returned, she was still slow in processing the overwhelming amount of information. Over the next few minutes, she was able to make sense of the events and her heart rate began to return to normal. She sat up and groaned at the sudden stiffness she felt. It felt like she¡¯d been sleeping for days, but surely that wasn¡¯t possible. Then the dizziness hit, and she swayed, nearly falling back into the bed. The last thing she remembered was leaving that little town after fighting the assassin. He had been good. Better than her, she had to admit. He had at least a century on her, which counted for something, but she was still disappointed in herself.

    Her magic! She had lost her ability to channel her mana in the mountains. In a panic, she reached for it and the warmth came to her call. The power filled her, bringing with it that amazing feeling of life and possibility. She almost cried at having it back. She formed the rune for a simple light cantrip and just let it hover in her palm as she reveled in the feeling of her power. She bounced it back and forth between her palms, which was an exercise she hadn¡¯t practiced since she was a girl.

    Finally, she released the spell and ignored the need to call it again and looked at the room around her disquieted by the fact that it should not exist. They had been in the mountains, and it was at least a two-week journey across. There were no towns among the peaks, only ruins left over from the reign of the dragon lords that often held terrible creatures she would rather not come up against. There were no quaint little cottages that smelled faintly of quinnamon and honey.

    The walls were a simple whitewashed plaster interspersed with stout dark wood beams that looked ancient and as solid as the mountains themselves. There were soft glowing mage lights set into elegantly carved sconces, and a few bundles of herbs and dried flowers hung from the walls around the room as well. There were no windows, but a doorway blocked by strands of beads that lead out into another room. Next to her bed was a small table with a pitcher of water, a glass, and a selection of fruits. There was a small note with elegant script placed next to the picture.

    ¡°You are protected by the laws of hospitality, as are your companions. Eat and drink.¡±

    It was signed ¡®Luvari¡¯.

    Allora stared at the words for a minute, her brain struggling to comprehend them, and then she sucked in a breath. Only the fey adhered to the laws of hospitality! From time to time, nobles who claimed fey heritage liked to invoke them, but most understood them as just an ancient tradition. If the laws were enforced, however, few would violate them. Archaic practice or not, the old stories of those that ignored them were enough to keep most people in line.

    ¡°Oh, Mitchell, what did you do?¡± she said out loud to herself. Her voice was raspy, as if she hadn¡¯t spoken in days.

    That there were serious gaps in her memory was no longer in question. She was missing a lot. Her recollections were fuzzy after their first day into the mountains, and then they just stopped altogether. Much could have happened between then and now, whenever now was.

    Despite her misgivings, she could no longer deny the deep hunger she felt and picked up a gawan and bit into it. The crunch of the perfectly ripe fruit was almost as satisfying as the sweet juices that flowed into her mouth. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure as she savored every drop. She was absolutely famished.

    She ate it down to the core and debated eating even that before reaching for the small bushel of bashos, and plucking three of the small green fruits from the stems. She shoved them into her mouth, barely chewing at all before swallowing. Only once all the fruit was gone did she fill the glass to the brim with the chilled water from the pitcher and drank it all down in one long pull. Then she fell back into bed with a groan as her stomach protested the sudden fullness.

    The pleasure of a full belly was enticing her to doze again when voices came from the other room.

    ¡°No, really! It¡¯s not magic. It¡¯s just¡­ What was the word you used? For when something falls to the ground.¡±

    ¡°Korep,¡± came the reply.

    ¡°Right, gravity.¡±

    Mitchell and Lethelin, Allora thought. They were here. She needed to talk to Mitchell and find out just what had happened and learn what this little respite had cost them. There was always a price when the fey were in involved. Mitchell wasn¡¯t ready to deal with something like this, she needed to¨C

    Allora stopped herself. She had to stop treating him like he was a toddler. Mitchell wasn¡¯t an idiot. Far from it, actually. She could see how hard he applied himself to the tasks she put before him, and he had a sharp mind. Watching him grow in confidence over the last several weeks had brought her no small amount of joy. She could see in him the seeds of a leader. He was constantly asking questions about even mundane things and took far too long to consider choices in her opinion, but he often came to the right conclusion and seemed resolute when he did. From the laughter and light tones drifting through the beaded doorway, they were obviously unharmed and in no danger. She needed to let go of her fear for him and let him make his own decisions if he was going to be the monarch they needed. With that thought in mind, she vowed that she would not criticize or second guess any choice he made while she had been ill. She was weakened and stiff, but she was alive and so was he.

    As was the dock rat, she acknowledged reluctantly.

    ¡°I will take you there if I ever get to see home again. You¡¯ll love it!¡±

    ¡°I think I¡¯d rather yank a dragon¡¯s tail,¡± Lethelin retorted.

    Allora could hear the smile in her voice.

    Suddenly, the elf felt a pain in her chest. The two of them sounded so happy. There was a playful tone in Mitchell¡¯s voice that she hadn¡¯t heard in so long. Not since the night she met him, actually.

    She remembered seeing him talking on the small device that so many of the humans had on his world. She had struggled with a weakened version of the translation spell she had been forced to cast to save mana. It had made it so much harder to talk to him, but it had taken significantly longer to locate Mitchell than she and Revos had anticipated, and she had been near the end of her supply of mana stones. Her own mana took nearly a ten-day to recharge in that environment.

    The city had been unimaginably large, as well. Allora was no country girl, she had grown up in Lorivin, the capital city of Awenor. It wasn¡¯t the largest city on the continent, but it was close enough. Even it had been dwarfed by the human city of Fee-nix. It had taken her hours to get anywhere without one of the vehicles that the humans on his world had used, and she had never imagined such a poorly designed city. The humans of his world must have gone insane, she thought.

    Triangulating his position with the tracking spell had been all but impossible. She could only get the general area that he seemed to spend the most time, but she could never arrive there in time to narrow it down. It was only after she risked staying out all night to travel while he slept that she started to get close. By the time she had located him outside the theater, only a few miles from where she had narrowed down his residence to be, she had barely slept for three days. (More than one vagrant had received a rude awakening when they thought her a simple girl wandering at night where she didn¡¯t belong.) Finally though, she had been close enough to track him down.

    The two-wheeled contraption that she¡¯d¡­borrowed to move at faster speeds had been invaluable, once she figured out how to stay upright on the wobbly thing. Allora had been able to cover ground much faster and the streets of the city were some of the flattest she¡¯d ever seen. The night she finally caught up to him¨Cwith the tracking spell still active¨Cshe could feel him leave his residence only a couple of hours after arriving. Allora had groaned at the thought of more time chasing him down but, as she pedaled the ingenious device as fast as she dared, she felt him come to a stop barely a mile from her. She was able to close the distance at long last. Even with the spell fading, she could see the glow it put around his form.

    Seeing him after so much time spent searching had almost been anticlimactic, she remembered thinking. He was slightly taller than her, which Allora always appreciated in men, but not as muscular as she would have preferred. He had looked in somewhat suitable condition to her trained eye, but it was a physique built more for speed than rather brute strength and power. Allora had grown up around the Knights and the city watch and they had bodies suitable for armed combat. As near as Allora could tell the people of Mitchell¡¯s world did not use things like swords in battle so it made sense that he wouldn¡¯t have the build of someone who had been swinging a blade or battleaxe from a young age.

    Still, he was pleasing to look at, she had noted. Thick, dark brown hair cut short, a strong jaw and sharp nose. As she had gotten closer, she also noticed his eyes, which were a dazzling shade of sky blue that she had been immediately drawn to. He had a kind face, she thought. His voice was gentle and his movements sure and confident. He didn¡¯t move like a fighter, but he moved like someone comfortable in their own body. She had spent enough time training with tutors and educating others as she¡¯d gotten older that she knew he would take to fighting well with the proper instruction. And she also couldn¡¯t quite suppress the tingle she had felt inside as she imagined his shoulders, chest, and back filling out as he learned the martial skills he would need to survive in Tewadunn. Almost against her will, she had envisioned massaging the sore muscles in his back as she helped him recover after a day spent sparring. A blush had flared in her cheeks and she was nearly at a loss for words when he finished his conversation on the little device and it was time for her to approach him.

    She had used a weakened charm spell to ensure a successful introduction and he had invited her with him to watch that¡­ moo-vee of the strange wingless dragon destroying the city and killing all of those people. It had been truly horrifying to see how much he had seemed to enjoy the spectacle, and she had been extremely relieved to hear that it was a fiction.

    Allora also recalled the joy that he took in explaining the strange food to her, and the memory brought a small smile to her lips. It had been so wonderful, too! She¡¯d never tasted anything like it. The combination of the meat, bread, cheese, and other things on it had been a marvel to her tongue. Especially after days and days of fruit that she¡¯d managed to acquire, not always through honest means.

    Mitchell had been so earnest as they talked. She had almost imagined that she could be just a regular girl with him at that inn or theater, or whatever it had been. No mission, no Awen, no one hunting her. She could just be a girl out with a handsome boy with eyes like the spring sky over the Shadow Glenn. But then Allora had felt the dagger press into her hip while they spoke, and she remembered that she could not be that girl. She could never be that girl. At that moment, she had hated it all. She was so very tired of running and hiding; of fighting every moment of every day. But Allora had a mission. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    ¡°Do your duty in all things,¡± her father had told her often when she complained of the strenuous training and study she had gone through as a child. ¡°You cannot do more, but you should never wish to do less.¡±

    Allora wished she were the one laughing with Mitchell. She saw how he smiled at Lethelin when they chatted so freely in the cart. She wanted to be the one back there enjoying pleasant conversation and hearing about life in his Fee-nix and laughing about the thief¡¯s adventures in Varset. But every time she had wanted to join in and share some of her own tales of being a child in the palace or the mischief she got up to, she found she didn¡¯t know how to. Then there was the fear of getting too close to Mitchell or even the dock rat, lest she have to¨C

    Allora¡¯s mind rebelled hard against that thought, and she shuddered involuntarily. Unbidden, the memory Davry¡¯s wide eyes suddenly filled her mind as her blade had pierced his heart. He hadn¡¯t even looked hurt, merely shocked. He had died almost before the mortal wound had registered. And she¡¯d run. Left him there in that abandoned farm building.

    Allora felt her eyes begin to moisten, and she squeezed them shut to ward off the tears. What she¡¯d done had been necessary. It had been her duty. Knowing that didn¡¯t stop the ache in her heart, though. And if she allowed herself to feel for Mitchell and it came to that once more¡­ Allora didn¡¯t think she would have the strength to do that. Not again. Not to him.

    But she was so very tired of being alone.

    Allora hated having to push him away. She could see how desperately he was trying to bridge the divide between them. She carried the small touches and quiet moments they shared together like talismans in her heart. Her memories were still cloudy but she could remember how much her rejection in the foothills had hurt him. How much she had wanted to tell him that none of this meant anything without him, too. She had wanted to tell him how much she loved and honored him. That she was immensely proud of the progress he had made and how she stood in awe at his determination and his will to keep pushing forward, even when he was walking blindly into nearly everything. And he was doing it all for her.

    Allora¡¯s chest went tight at that thought. She struggled to draw breath and she felt an ache in her nose that always meant she was close to crying. Knowing what Mitchell was putting himself through every day made her feel unworthy of his affection. She was no fool, she knew how Mitchell felt about her. But if she failed again. If she lost him¡­

    Lethelin¡¯s giggle came through the door again and Allora suddenly felt rage fill her. Rage she had not known since the first days after the coup. It should be her in there! Not instead of Lethelin, but with her. With Mitchell! Didn¡¯t she deserve happiness, too? Hadn¡¯t she suffered enough? Where was it written that she must deny herself even life¡¯s most simple pleasures? She could die at any time. She may well be lying in this bed because she had nearly died. She still didn¡¯t know where she was or why. What if she died without telling Mitchell how she felt? She did not want to meet Denass with that shame on her heart.

    She would not.

    ¡°Enough, now,¡± Allora said quietly. She found she was almost scared to say it. Then again, more forcefully. ¡°Enough, now.¡±

    She sniffed, took in a deep breath, and got control of herself. Well and truly enough.

    Allora knew she needed to get up and get moving. Wherever they were, she doubted that Mitchell and Lethelin had managed to save Awenor while she was unconscious, so that meant there was work still to do. She was about to rise when she felt a weight between her legs pressing the blanket down. She shifted and then there was a huff from under the blanket and something moved.

    Allora froze. There was something in the bed with her. She saw then that she was covered by two different blankets. Whatever it was seemed to be between the two. She looked around for one of her blades but didn¡¯t see them. The thing between her legs shifted again, and she heard a long sigh and a hot breath on her left knee.

    Carefully, Allora lifted the top blanket and exposed the space between her legs. Curled up there was a small dragon. Its red and blue iridescent scales glimmered in the mage lights as she revealed its full form. The creature had formed itself into a coil, its supple wings folded along its long body not unlike her blankets had been a moment before, and its head rested on its tail. As it came fully into view, one eye cracked open and gave her a baleful look.

    It was a pseudodragon, she now saw, not a true wyrmling. She had never seen one before but had heard about them often enough. That it was here helped to allay some of her fear about their fey patron. Pseudodragons would not pact with evil creatures. Then again, the fey sometimes had motivations and desires so alien to mortals that describing them as evil might not even apply.

    Allora had only ever seen one fey in her life when it had come waltzing into the palace and through all the layers of guards like it was on a walk through a garden. Spells and weapons simply glided off the creature like water over a river stone, and it had hardly seemed to pay the warnings and attacks any mind. Their efforts were little more than a breeze ruffling the Fey¡¯s hair. It had ignored everyone, strolled aimlessly through the halls until it came to a large tapestry hung in one of the lesser banquet halls, took out a notebook, jotted down something and looked like it had made a sketch, then simply vanished.

    No one had known what to make of their fey visitor, but it hadn¡¯t hurt anyone, nor done any damage, so everyone tried to pretend it hadn¡¯t happened at all. Who knows what it could have done if it had wanted to, but it had seemed to regard the mortals scurrying around trying to stop it or talk to it as one might regard insects crawling about in the dirt.

    But if their host had bonded with a pseudodragon then she probably wasn¡¯t overtly evil.

    ¡°Hello, little one,¡± Allora said. Her voice sounded somewhat better after the water, but it was still scratchy. She wouldn¡¯t be singing tavern songs anytime soon. ¡°I am sorry to disturb you, but I need to get up. If you would be so kind.¡±

    Pseudodragons were surprisingly intelligent, and she had no doubt it could understand her.

    The creature closed its baleful eye and didn¡¯t move for long enough that Allora wondered if it was going to ignore her, but then its wings began to straighten and flex. It unfurled itself and made a great show of stretching and sighing to let her know just how inconsiderate she was being before chuffing and jabbing the stinger at the end of its tail lightly into the meat of her thigh. Not enough to break the skin, but enough to let her know that it could have if it wanted to. It hopped lightly off her bed and then crossed over to the bed on the other side of the room and burrowed under the blankets there.

    Allora couldn¡¯t help but grin at the creature as she watched the bedding bulge and twist while it settled in.

    Getting slowly to her feet, she wobbled before she could stand fully upright. Whatever had been wrong with her had sapped her strength, and Allora knew she was not fully recovered. There was nothing for it, though. One foot in front of the other, she told herself. One foot in front of the other gets you where you are going.

    Allora approached the beads on silent feet and could still hear Lethelin and Mitchell talking quietly.

    ¡°This one is called the Viking.¡±

    Allora had never heard that word before. Viking. He was mixing Common and his native language again. Engish or whatever it was called.

    ¡°See, it starts slow but gets higher on each swing.¡±

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s balls!¡± Lethelin exclaimed at whatever Mitchell was showing her.

    Allora peered through the beads and saw the two of them snuggled together on a large overstuffed chair. In his hand was the small communication device people on his world used. She hadn¡¯t seen it since she¡¯d dug it out of the chest of their belongings after freeing themselves from Ivaran all those weeks ago. He had told her it was dead. Allora hadn¡¯t understood at the time how something that was never alive could be dead, but she got the impression that whatever functions it had on his world weren¡¯t working on this one. It was a curious phrase. Apparently, it was dead no longer.

    Allora felt that stab of pain in her gut at the sight of them so comfortable with each other. It wasn¡¯t jealously, exactly. She didn¡¯t want Lethelin off of him, even though she still didn¡¯t trust the thieving little dock rat. Instead, seeing them so close reminded her once again of how lonely she was. It had been ages since anyone had held her like that. She wanted Mitchell to feel that at ease with her, as well. She wanted to see what a Viking was. She wanted to go where Mitchell had promised to take Lethelin if they ever traveled back to his world.

    ¡°Enough, now,¡± she whispered to the universe. ¡°I deserve happiness, too.¡±

    Without announcing herself she walked through the beads and into the larger living area.

    Mitchell and Lethelin looked up at once, but whereas Lethelin pulled away from Mitchell so fast she almost jumped, Mitchell gave her a smile like the sun coming over the mountains.

    ¡°You¡¯re awake!¡± Mitchell called out.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Allora responded simply.

    She felt slightly guilty for having interrupted them. She found she didn¡¯t know what to do with her hands and so crossed them in front of herself as if she were being scolded by the weapon¡¯s master for not keeping her blades polished.

    Mitchell got up from the chair and, before she could say anything else, closed the distance between them in three long steps and wrapped her in his arms, then lifted her up.

    ¡°Oh!¡± Allora cried out as her feet left the floor. She wasn¡¯t very high off the ground as she and Mitchell were of a similar height, but he held her tightly. The human spun her around once, then set her gently to her feet but didn¡¯t release her. Nor did she want him to.

    ¡°I was worried about you,¡± he said softly.

    He was so close, she thought. His body was warm and strong, and he smelled clean. Despite herself, she felt her body lean into his and he welcomed her. Before she knew it, her head was resting on his shoulder, and she sagged against him.

    Allora didn¡¯t know where they were or what had happened, but at that moment she didn¡¯t really care. Mitchell was okay and he was holding her. She closed her eyes and let him. Her arms encircled his waist, and he held her back.

    Mitchell turned his head slightly and kissed her just above her ear. Then he whispered something in his own tongue that she didn¡¯t understand. It sounded like lub-oo or something. His language was so strange. So many harsh consonants mixed in with smooth sibilant ones and strange vowel combinations.

    ¡°What?¡± she asked him, not moving her head.

    ¡°Nothing.¡±

    Allora pulled her head away to find him smiling at her, almost sadly.

    ¡°Some other time.¡±

    Allora wanted to press him. She didn¡¯t understand the words but they felt important. She was about to ask again when suddenly, Lethelin was beside them, looking only slightly embarrassed.

    ¡°We have loads to tell you!¡± the thief said. ¡°You won¡¯t believe it!¡±

    ¡°If I could sit down first¡­¡± Allora said, feeling suddenly dizzy. It was just because her body was weak from her illness, she told herself. That was all.

    Mitchell led her over to the sofa they¡¯d been sitting on, and he sat next to her, throwing the blanket around her. Before she even realized what she was doing, Allora was snuggling into him and breathing in the scent of the forest that came off his freshly washed skin. Lethelin brought her a cup of tea and then sat across from her and Mitchell as they began to tell her everything that had happened since they¡¯d left the village behind.

    Lethelin had been right. Allora could hardly believe it.

    ***

    Luvari sat down on the bed opposite of where Allora had just lain, smiling. Nix¡¯s head poked up from under the blanket and she gave her a reproachful stare. She was the only one that could see or hear Luvari in her present state. A result of their bond.

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t look at me like that. I only gave her a little nudge. The poor thing was twisting herself into knots.¡±

    Nix expelled some air from her nose.

    ¡°Why? It wasn¡¯t her fault. The training those knights go through drives them to think only of their duty first and everything else second.¡±

    Nix cocked her head and bumped her nose against Luvari¡¯s leg.

    ¡°Well, so what? She would have done it anyway; she just would have tortured herself about it for a little while longer. She needs him. And he needs her just as much. And they¡¯ll need the thief and the sorceress, too. The tension between the three of them is slowly strangling them and they can¡¯t afford that any longer. Not if what I¡¯ve seen is to come to pass. You know it as well as I do.¡±

    Nix peered at Luvari, flicked her tail under the blankets, and then retreated back beneath them to continue her nap.

    ¡°Well, I wouldn¡¯t have to lecture you if you would stop trying to disagree with me about things you already know to be true,¡± Luvari responded primly. ¡°Go back to sleep. You are always contrarian when you¡¯re tired. It makes you cranky. It¡¯s unbecoming.¡±

    Nix¡¯s tail flicked again but Luvari chose not to rise to the bait.

    In the living room, as the people of Mitchell¡¯s world called it, she could hear Mitchell and Lethelin recounting their adventures from when they left the little mortal village at the base of the Peaks. Luvari never could understand why so many of the other Fey ignored the mortal races. To her, that path led to ennui. Mortal experiences were so vibrant and varied. They packed so much emotion and struggle into impossibly short lives that Luvari didn¡¯t know how they got anything done at all from all the stress of it. What must it be like to be a mortal? She had wondered that often enough over her timeless existence.

    If she wanted to die, she could always return to Mitchell¡¯s world. And maybe she would one day. It would take awhile but, she reasoned, there were worse places to end one¡¯s life. After all, they had Reese¡¯s Peanut Butter Cups. A confection so sinfully delicious that she almost couldn¡¯t believe such a magically dead universe could make such a thing. Yes, dying there wouldn¡¯t be such a bad thing. A novel experience. She wondered what came after that. But the answer to that riddle would have to wait for another day.

    ¡°It was a little terrifying,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°You were glowing and impossibly strong. You were sucking the life out of me or something.¡±

    ¡°Probably sucking out all your mana,¡± Lethelin speculated before turning to the elf. ¡°Oh! And I got to hit you in the head with a cudgel. A big one!¡±

    ¡°Leth, you said you wouldn¡¯t gloat.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Allora said, a note of anger in her voice.

    ¡°Don''t flash your violet eyes at me! I was saving the monarch¡¯s life,¡± the thief shot back defensively. ¡°You should thank me!¡±

    Luvari grinned. So much emotion. It must be exhausting. And exhilarating.

    ¡°Goodbye for now, Mitchell Allen.¡± Luvari said quietly into the empty room. She could taste his first name on her tongue and through that she could also taste Mitchell¡¯s mother, and her mother before her, and on down through the centuries of his world. She savored the sensations. She had a piece of him now and it would be hers forever.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be seeing you again. But do take care. Your troubles are only just beginning.¡±

    Nix poked her head up from beneath the blankets when she felt the bed shift. She looked around the now empty bed chamber and expelled another blast of air through her nose in a most indignant manner. Then she pulled her head back and slept once more.

 Chapter 46

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    Mitchell stood in front of the doorway to Luvari¡¯s cottage that appeared to grow out of the cave wall. Their time was up. All of their things had been moved out of her house in anticipation of it disappearing. Luvari had told him that they would have three days and that time was nearly at an end. When they had awoken that morning the fire was nearly out and once it died the house would vanish. Behind him, Lethelin and Allora were making the final preparations for Marvin and Tammi, but he wanted to see it happen.

    Without warning, the door to the cottage swung shut and then started to fade away like fog burned off in a rising sun. Before it had fully vanished, sunlight began to pierce the door like rays from a vengeful god. Mitchell hadn¡¯t seen the sun in days and the light was so bright as to be physically painful. Behind him, he heard Lethelin utter a small cry and then she was through the cave entrance before the doorway had fully evaporated. Then, he heard a loud giggle that you would never guess had come from the throat of a deadly assassin who could vanish almost at will and who cut throats as easily as he cut a piece of cake. But she giggled again, and Mitchell grinned at the sound.

    Allora walked up beside him, eyes squinting into the harsh glare of the morning sunlight.

    ¡°What is she doing?¡±

    ¡°She had a tough time being in the cave for so many days and then the cabin,¡± Mitchell explained. ¡°I think she could pretend we were just in a regular old house when we were in Luvari¡¯s home, but she doesn¡¯t like being confined in the dark. We had a couple of tense moments while you were unconscious.¡±

    ¡°I would expect someone in her line of work to be a little tougher,¡± Allora said, echoing Mitchell¡¯s feelings somewhat. But whereas he had thought it out of a playful sense of irony, Allora sounded more judgmental.

    ¡°That¡¯s not fair,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°Everyone has something they¡¯re afraid of. And I think she has proven her bravery and resourcefulness enough by this point. And her loyalty. Don¡¯t you think you¡¯re being too hard on her?¡±

    Allora was quiet for a moment before answering.

    ¡°She is a mercenary, Mitchell.¡±

    Allora said it in such a way as if that should explain it. When he didn¡¯t respond, she continued.

    ¡°She is charging a price that would make a tilsin slaver blush! No matter how she appears to you, she is doing this for the money. Please do not forget that.¡±

    Rather than answer her accusation, Mitchell said, ¡°When the assassin was about to kill you, Lethelin looked as terrified as I felt. When you were sick, she worked just as hard to help you as I did. She pushed on through the blizzard until she collapsed. She paid the price for your cure willingly. I told her she didn¡¯t have to, but she did it anyway.¡±

    Allora looked up into Mitchell¡¯s eyes but then quickly looked away.

    ¡°Lethelin watched over you in the dark while I slept. She was terrified and alone, I had to hold her as she cried, but she didn¡¯t complain or wake me up to cast a new mage light. She stood guard over you and endured her own private hell for hours to make sure you were okay. She gave her own blood to save you, Allora.¡±

    The knight crossed her arms and shuffled her feet.

    Mitchell didn¡¯t want to argue with her. Not now when things were finally starting to thaw a little between them. Instead, he took a more conciliatory tone.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you think that is worth something?¡±

    Allora let out a breath and met Mitchell¡¯s gaze once more.

    ¡°You are right,¡± she conceded. ¡°I owe her thanks and gratitude.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± he told her.

    Then, on instinct, he put his arm around her shoulders, pulled her close, and kissed her lightly on the forehead. To his great joy, she didn¡¯t pull away but leaned into him once again. Her arm went around his waist and they stood that way for a moment.

    ¡°Not much of a reef carp after all,¡± Mitchell said, a teasing note in his voice.

    Allora¡¯s head ticked up sharply.

    ¡°Who said I was a reef carp?¡±

    Her voice had an edge to it.

    Mitchell tilted his head toward the opening.

    ¡°It¡¯s Leth¡¯s little nickname for you. Because you¡¯re stubborn.¡±

    ¡°That dock rat called me a reef carp?!?¡±

    Mitchell couldn¡¯t suppress the smile on his face which only appeared to irritate Allora even further.

    ¡°Are you telling me you¡¯re not as stubborn as one? Granted, I have to take her word for it as I¡¯ve never seen one myself, but if you try to tell me you¡¯re not, I¡¯ll have to remind you what happened last time you lied to your future monarch.¡±

    ¡°I¨C¡± Allora¡¯s mouth opened, then closed, not unlike a landed fish as she struggled to deny the accusation while also being unwilling to lie to him. ¡°She¨C!¡±

    Instead, she decided to switch tactics and direct her anger somewhere else.

    Allora pulled away from him and stormed out of the cave mouth and into the blazing sun and piled snow drifts.

    ¡°Lethelin!¡± Her voice rang out in the cold morning air. ¡°Where are you? I am going to tan your hide up this mountain and down the other side! Reef car¨C¡±

    Here voice suddenly cut off with a small scream and then an ominous silence.

    ¡°How dare you!?¡±

    ¡°Have another!¡± came Lethelin¡¯s gleeful taunt though the cave mouth.

    There was another scream. Then an answering cry from Lethelin. Mitchell rushed to the opening and saw a most unexpected sight.

    The last Onyx Knight of Awenor and a divinely-touched assassin were having a snowball fight. They were laughing and screaming at each other and they looked like scruffy angels in the snow -- Allora, tall and powerful with her once-again glistening black hair streaming behind her in the stiff breeze and Lethelin, lithe and quick, her blood-red tresses almost bleached to orange in the harsh light of morning. Mitchell leaned against the opening and watched them. Rather than stop them, he thought about joining in. This could be the tension breaker that they all desperately needed. He thought that right until he noticed them both looking at him with snowballs in their hands and evil grins on their faces.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Don¡¯t even think about it,¡± he warned them.

    They did more than think about it.

    ***

    Compared to the difficulty of their first few days up the mountain, the next couple were relatively easy. The snow drifts were treacherous and probing ahead was often difficult but, with Allora almost back to full strength, things were, on the whole, faster. Much to Mitchell¡¯s delight, the girls were actually getting along better. Allora seemed to have taken their talk in the cave to heart and was making a legitimate effort to be friendlier.

    Allora explained on the second day that they were well above where the wolves generally prowled but that they needed to keep an eye out for shadow cats once dusk arrived. To be safer, they would make camp earlier than normal and spend more time gathering fire wood.

    ¡°Do you think we¡¯ll see any this far north,¡± Mitchell asked, remembering Allora¡¯s comment about the shadow cats preferring the southern ranges.¡±

    ¡°It is hard to say. If hunting was plentiful down south, they may not have ventured this far north. It is best if we take precautions, though.¡±

    The third morning out from Luvari¡¯s, Mitchell was on last watch. As the sky began to lighten and he figured it was safe to wander around, he decided to explore a little before the girls awoke.

    After more than a week of steady climbing Allora had said they were near the peaks where the trails would begin to descend down the other side. The air was thin and bitterly cold and they were all feeling the exhaustion from the sparse oxygen. The campsite they had found was tucked into the ruin of an old watchtower. Allora said it probably dated from the time of the dragon lords before the mortal races had broken free of their servitude. Despite being ruled over by dragons, they had their own kingdoms while all swearing fealty to a kind of dragon empress named Yuliana Blood Scale. Mitchell remembered that name from Nothok, the dwarf. He had said that his clan were the ones that forged the blade that killed her.

    But while they all swore fealty to Yuliana during her reign, they would often war among themselves and they used their mortal subjects to fight wars just as every ruler had since time immemorial. So, there were the ruins of forts, keeps, and strongholds littered all over Tewadunn. Some had been reclaimed and repurposed by the mortal races. Others had been left to crumble to dust like this one.

    Mitchell could make out where the walls had been. He could see traces of where supports had been driven into the rocks to hold upper floors and the ground was littered with oddly-shaped blocks that still had some of the square shapes of worked stone. Their camp had been inside a passage that had been cut into the rock face with the barest hint of walls to block out some of the wind. It was this passage that Mitchell stepped out of in the pre-dawn light.

    He wasn¡¯t too worried about razor beaks, despite being in their territory. He had seen a few of them flying around and they were fearsome creatures. They resembled large eagles or hawks but they walked on four legs when grounded. Allora said that their legs weren¡¯t very strong and they often struggled to support the weight of their large bodies so they preferred to dive bomb their prey rather than any sort of prolonged ground fight where they weren¡¯t as agile. They also mostly hunted in the late afternoon and at dusk, so the morning should be safe.

    Keeping an eye on the sky just in case, Mitchell toured the ruins of the watch tower and wondered at the ancient civilization that built it. Were there humans among the builders? There must have been as his people had been taken here just as wherever Allora¡¯s people had come from, as well as the other races. Were they ancient Europeans? Asians? Africans? Mitchell had seen various different ethnicities of humans when he had been in Besari and traveling the Diran Road, so they had yanked people from all over Earth, it seemed. He thought of the stories of expeditions gone missing and other mysteries like the Lost Colony of Roanoke, Virginia.

    Every school kid heard about the early American settlement that had reportedly vanished without a trace in the 16th century. More than 100 settlers gone with the only clue a strange word that had been carved into a tree much higher than a human was tall. Mitchell had gone to Colonial Williamsburg with his parents when he¡¯d been fifteen and they¡¯d visited one of the recreations of a Revolutionary War camp. While visiting the facilities, they¡¯d gone into one of the cabins and the tour guide had asked them who they thought this bunk house had been for. Looking at the small beds everyone concluded that it must have been for kids, but the guide had said no, these were soldiers¡¯ beds.

    Now that Mitchell knew about interdimensional travel and other worlds, he thought he had a pretty good idea what might have happened although he doubted the Roanoke colony had ended up here. The dragon lords had taken humans much earlier than that. By the time Roanoke happened, the reign of the dragon lords had already ended -- at least in linear time. It did move differently between universes in a way he couldn¡¯t even begin to comprehend. By the time he got back, his parents could be dust in the ground. Or it would only have been a few weeks.

    ¡°Fuck if I know,¡± Mitchell grumbled to himself as he leaned against a half-crumbled wall.

    He breathed in the crisp cold air and, while the chill did burn his nose, taking in the larger breath helped dispel some of the exhaustion he felt with the lower oxygen this high up. The mild headache even receded a little bit.

    Not wanting to waste precious quiet time, he decided to practice his firebolt spell and also begin working on a new spell called ¡°blade burst¡±. His book listed it as a conjuration spell and, according to the description, it was supposed to fill the space around him with spectral blades for a few seconds that would slice at anyone that got too close. It only lasted about five seconds but since he didn¡¯t have armor he thought the extra bit of room in a fight would be useful.

    After drilling with the firebolt spell for a few minutes, making sure he could still cast it at will, he pulled open his spell book and started learning the rune form for blade burst. He studied it, taking note of each line as it formed its geometric shape within the circle of the rune and shut his eyes and tried to recreate it in his mind. It was getting easier to do the more he practiced but it still took work. Each rune was basically a circle framing shapes contained within, but remembering them took patience and focus. He could see what Revos meant about time being the biggest hindrance to would-be spellcasters and why so many chose to specialize, even to the point of ignoring some of the mana types they could use. Mitchell was determined not to do that, though. He would try to learn as many different spells as he could.

    While he was going over and over the rune in his mind, drawing it and redrawing it, checking the page, and drawing it again, a chill suddenly came over him. He was cold pretty much all the time these days, but this was different. This coldness started in his chest. Without warning his whole body broke out in goose flesh and he began to shudder. Something was very wrong. As he returned his attention back to his surroundings, he noticed that the wind had stopped. The occasional snowflake drifted lazily to the ground, having been disturbed from some higher peak, but all was quiet. He was being watched. There was a pressure on his mind that made him want to curl into a fetal position. It was pushing against his skin as well. Against his eyes and even his hair. Suddenly he struggled to draw breath and he shuddered as he exhaled. Fighting against the pressure that told him both not to move and yet to run with all his might, he reached for his sword. The sound of the metal blade leaving the scabbard was loud enough in the unnatural stillness that it made him wince.

    Sword out and at the ready, he began to turn, trying to see what it was that was about to kill him. Not just kill him, but obliterate him -- destroy him so completely that it would be like he had never existed at all. But there was nothing. He looked down the trail they had come from yesterday and it was quiet and still. He looked up the path where they would head today, and it was equally empty.

    ¡°Up!¡± the voice in his head screamed at him. ¡°Look up!¡±

    Mitchell looked up and wished he hadn¡¯t. If he hadn¡¯t already relieved himself behind a boulder he would have done so now. As it was, he thought he felt his balls retract up into his pelvis in pure, unadulterated terror.

    Perched on the ledge above the path, not five meters from where Mitchell stood, was a dragon. An honest-to-god, Dungeons-and-Dragons, Dragon-Riders-of-Pern, Reign-of-Fire motherfucking dragon.

    Mitchell couldn¡¯t speak. He couldn¡¯t run, he couldn¡¯t call out. He could only stare and await his death at the hands of this primeval terror. One golden eye the size of a dining room table blinked languidly and focused back on the trembling human before it.

    Mitchell¡¯s last thought was, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Allora.¡±

 Chapter 47

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    Except that wasn¡¯t Mitchell¡¯s last thought. As he stood there, frozen and certain that he would soon serve as an hors d''oeuvre to this massive white dragon, the beast didn¡¯t attack him. It merely stared breathing slowly and squinting at Mitchell as if studying him for something.

    Finally, it spoke.

    ¡°You have her stench all over you. Her magic still lingers on your skin.¡±

    The voice didn¡¯t come from the creature¡¯s mouth, but rather it exploded into Mitchell¡¯s head like a bomb blast. The force of it sent Mitchell to one knee and, for a moment, his vision went white. He blinked rapidly and the world faded back into sight.

    The dragon blew out a sharp breath from its nostrils that blasted Mitchell¡¯s hair back and, in his befuddled state, almost knocked him over. Then its long scaled head lifted from where it had been resting on the rock face and scanned the passages in both directions. It took in several more breaths and seemed to be tasting the air.

    Mitchell had just started to regain a bit of coherence when the dragon spoke again.

    ¡°How frustrating.¡±

    Mitchell grabbed the side of his head and groaned. He could feel his brain quiver like a bowl of Jello every time the monster spoke.

    When his eyes cleared a second time the dragon was peering at him inquisitively. Then it spoke again and Mitchel braced himself as best he could. It turns out it wasn¡¯t necessary.

    ¡°Apologies, little human. I have not spoken with a mortal in some time. I forget how¡­¡± It paused as if searching for the word. ¡°Sensitive your minds are. I trust this is more suitable.¡±

    Mitchell slowly unclenched as he realized the dragon¡¯s voice was no longer going to melt his brain.

    ¡°Y¨C¡± His voice cracked and he had to pause to clear his throat. ¡°Yes. That¡¯s better, thank you, um¡­ sir? Ma¡¯am?¡±

    Mitchell had no idea what to address the dragon as. All he could do was hope he didn¡¯t offend it.

    ¡°You may call me Udranth.¡±

    Udranth directed his attention to the passage behind the wall that Mitchell had emerged from. It inhaled again and Mitchell watched as its nostrils enlarged enough that he thought he could fit his head and shoulders inside with room to spare.

    ¡°The fey witch is bold, I will give her that,¡± Udranth commented before turning his attention back to Mitchell. ¡°How long? Three days?¡±

    ¡°Do you mean Luvari?¡±

    A rumble like boulders rolling down a mountain emerged from the dragon¡¯s chest at the mention of her name and Mitchell¡¯s bones turned to ice.

    ¡°Yes,¡± the dragon answered as if he was tasting something foul. ¡°She is clever and masks her presence well, but I will find her one day. Our battle will be legendary!¡±

    The dragon¡¯s claws began to flex its long black talons curled into the stone like it was no more substantial than cotton candy. Shards of granite exploded and Mitchell had to dodge a few of the larger pieces as the dragon almost quivered with anger.

    ¡°I take it you don¡¯t like her?¡±

    Udranth chuffed and glared at Mitchell, almost causing him to step back. He held his ground, though. The dragon didn¡¯t seem to be interested in killing him, although that could easily change. Still, he could show a little courage. Even if all that amounted to was not moving his feet.

    ¡°She plies her favors in my territory and does not show me proper deference or respect. Slinking in and out, almost daring me to catch her. But I will. She will face me one day. I swear it.¡±

    A ripple ran down the dragon¡¯s body from its long neck to the bit of tail that he could see hanging over the edge. The scales puffed outward and the wings ruffled, and it made a strange but not unpleasant sound, not unlike dry leaves rustling in a fall breeze. It had a similar effect to a cat fluffing its fur. The dragon seemed to swell momentarily as the ripple moved over its body. Mitchell could only assume it was some sort of threat display, although when you were as large this thing was, he had no idea why a display of any kind would be necessary.

    Then it cocked his head and looked at Mitchell anew.

    ¡°You smell of the human stock world. When did you arrive on Tewadunn?¡±

    ¡°Umm¡­ about a month ago? Maybe six weeks? I don¡¯t know exactly.¡±

    ¡°Yes. It still lingers on you. Different than I remember, somehow. More¡­¡± Udranth paused, considering. ¡°Acidic. Has the atmosphere changed? Some event?¡±

    Mitchell didn¡¯t know what to think about that. Calling Earth a stock world spoke volumes and confirmed what the others had told him about how the races had arrived here. And Udranth was, at least in part, responsible for the kidnapping of other humans from Earth. Should he be angry? Would it matter?

    ¡°I don¡¯t know when you were there last, but it has changed a lot in the last one hundred and fifty years or so. I suspect there is more industry than the last time you went for¡­ stock.¡±

    ¡°Yes, that might explain it. Burning more organics for fuel. Without magic, your people would need such. Still, you appear healthy and strong. You would have been a good slave if I had found you then.¡±

    ¡°Um¡­ thanks, I guess.¡±

    How was one supposed to respond to being told they would make a good slave?

    ¡°And what is that I sense?¡±

    Udranth suddenly drew close to Mitchell. Its large head loomed in his vision, each fang thatprotruded from its iridescent white mouth longer than his arm. It drew so close that Mitchell could reach out and stroke the creature¡¯s nose. Needless to say, he did not make the attempt.

    Udranth sucked in a breath so sharply that it actually pulled Mitchell forward a step and he brought himself up just shy of reaching out to brace against the dragon¡¯s snout. Then, his already huge eyes widened slightly and he looked behind him at the door beyond which Lethelin and Allora were presumably still resting having no idea of this remarkable conversation.

    Something almost like a chuckle came from the dragon¡¯s throat.

    ¡°So you seek to challenge the usurper, then. That is why an Onyx Knight is with you.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Mitchell responded, almost stunned.

    The dragon knew. It could sense it or smell it on him somehow.

    ¡°How do you know that?¡±

    ¡°I no longer concern myself with mortal affairs. Frankly, I was glad when they killed Yuliana. She had gone mad with power. Now, I am content to sit in my lair and enjoy my solitude. But I retain agents among the people. Some still serve faithfully. I know a little of what goes on in Awenor, but since the last monarch¡¯s death my messengers have been less frequent. However, I had heard rumors of a surviving Onyx Knight, and now I know why you travel with her. There is something strange about the other one, though.

    ¡°Lethelin?¡±

    ¡°The other human, yes. Her scent is most odd.¡±

    Mitchell almost said she was a moon child, as Luvari had called her, but he also knew that information was a powerful form of currency here, and it was best to keep his mouth closed on the matter.

    ¡°I will be most interested to see if you succeed.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re not going to eat us?¡± Mitchell finally asked.

    Udranth arched an eyebrow and cocked his head at him.

    ¡°Why would I eat you? Do you have any idea how foul humans taste?¡±

    ¡°No, I have never eaten one.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t recommend it. Foul, as I said. And from the acrid scent you carry, I doubt you would taste any better than the last one I ate.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Mitchell said, unsure if he¡¯d been insulted or not.

    ¡°You and your companions are free to travel the paths as you like. The only reason I emerged from my lair was I felt the fey witch¡¯s magic on the air. But I was late yet again. She is masking herself when she appears, and I will find out how eventually. She will answer for her disrespect.¡±

    Udranth growled again low in its huge chest and Mitchell could feel the vibrations through the soles of his feet.

    Without preamble, the dragon spread its wings and the large leathery membranes caught the air instantly. They were pulled tight like the sails of some massive old wooden vessel from the days of the British Empire. Udranth pumped them once, then twice, experimentally and, this time, Mitchell did step back being forced to cover his eyes as snow was sent swirling into near white-out conditions.

    ¡°I hope you struck a good deal with the witch, human. You¡¯re going to need every advantage if you are attempting to retake the Onyx Throne.¡±

    Before Mitchell could answer Udranth pumped his wings much more powerfully and lifted off the surface of the rock face he had been crouched on. Mitchell was thrown back by the force of the wind and he smacked hard into the old rock wall and fell in a heap.

    Suddenly he was being shaken roughly.

    ¡°Mitchell! Mitchell, what happened?¡±

    Mitchell peered through bleary eyes to see two Lethelins crouching over him. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus again. This time the two images merged and he could finally focus on her. Her hair was disheveled and she was still in her undershirt, shivering in the cold air. Behind her Mitchell could see a similarly garbed Allora, standing guard in the pass, sword out and krisa flashing.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    ¡°Is he awake?¡± Allora called behind her shoulder.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Mitchell grunted. ¡°I¡¯m awake. I¡¯ve got a nasty bump on my head though.¡±

    ¡°What was that?¡± Allora turned then and walked over to examine him. ¡°What happened?¡±

    Mitchell groaned and sat up. His back was already smarting from being slammed against the old fort wall.

    ¡°There was a dragon,¡± he said with a grunt as he slowly got to his feet.

    Both Allora and Lethelin froze and stared at him in stunned silence.

    Mitchell was too preoccupied with trying to stand without falling over to pay the women much attention. One hand bracing himself, he stood, and his vision swam. For a moment, he thought he might retch. Seeing his unstable condition Allora remembered herself and stepped up to perform a minor healing on him.

    Her magic passed into his body and almost immediately he felt his aches recede and his head became clearer.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± he said with a sigh of relief.

    ¡°Mitchell, are you saying there was a dragon? It was here? You saw it?¡± Allora drilled him.

    ¡°Not just saw,¡± Mitchell replied as he began to search the piled snow for his sword. He found it a few feet away in a pile of rubble. ¡°I spoke with it. I don¡¯t know if it was a male or a female.¡±

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s balls, man,¡± Lethelin spoke up then. ¡°You talk as if you were having a conversation with a fisherman on the wharf. You don¡¯t just talk to a dragon!¡±

    Mitchell stretched, trying to relieve the little bit of stiffness that he could still feel in his back, and shrugged.

    ¡°Look, I was just as shocked as you were, believe me. Dragons don¡¯t even exist on my world. I¡¯m lucky I didn¡¯t piss myself. But I came out for some air this morning, and it was just there.¡±

    Mitchell pointed to the bit of rock face that the dragon had perched on. The gouges that its obsidian-black claws had left in the granite surface were easy to see. ¡°It was curled up like a cat the size of a Mac truck on a ledge and staring at me. I don¡¯t know how something so large could move without a sound, but I had no idea it was there until I looked up. Besides, it talked to me first.¡±

    The two women looked at each other and something seemed to pass between them. Allora was the first to speak.

    ¡°What color was it?¡±

    ¡°It was white. Like the color of a new pearl, kind of iridescent. It was beautiful, actually. I mean, I was scared shitless, I¡¯m not going to lie, but it was beautiful.¡±

    Lethelin plopped down on her ass like her strings had been cut and looked like she was going pass out.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s hairy cock,¡± she exclaimed in hushed breath.

    Mitchell looked to Allora to see she had gone as white as a sheet.

    ¡°You spoke to Udranth, the Cold?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t say his name!¡± Lethelin hissed at Allora. ¡°What if he comes back!¡±

    Allora actually looked chagrined and ducked her head in an apology.

    ¡°You spoke to the Cold One?¡±

    Mitchell had the distinct feeling that he was in trouble, like a child called to the principal¡¯s office.

    ¡°Yes? I didn¡¯t know what else to do. I looked up and it¨Che¨Cwas there. He spoke into my head.¡±

    ¡°What did he say?¡±

    ¡°He was looking for Luvari, actually. I guess he could tell we had met her. He said he could smell her magic on our skin.¡±

    ¡°And he just left?¡± Allora pressed. ¡°Just¡­ flew away?¡±

    Lethelin still looked too stunned to actually talk. She wasn¡¯t actually rocking in place but she seemed to have trouble keeping her hands still. It was a nervous habit which he¡¯d seen her displayinside the cave when she was feeling trapped. Clearly, she¡¯d been rattled.

    ¡°Tell me everything,¡± Allora said and her tone suggested she really meant everything.

    So Mitchell explained everything he could recall in the order that it happened. Allora was silent the whole time, listening intently. Lethelin eventually picked herself up out of the snow and paced back and forth, only swearing occasionally. She seemed especially distraught that Udranth thought she smelled interesting.

    ¡°What if he decides he wants me? He has my scent now! He can find me! Stollar¡¯s balls!¡±

    ¡°Quiet,¡± Allora snapped. ¡°Do not borrow trouble.¡±

    ¡°Easy for you to say! The Cold One didn¡¯t say you smelled interesting!¡±

    Allora clucked her tongue at the pacing thief.

    ¡°If he wanted you, he would have taken you,¡± Allora argued. ¡°Please let Mitchell finish.¡±

    Lethelin closed her mouth despite obviously wanting to argue, but continued to pace. She glanced repeatedly at the sky as if expecting the dragon to return and snatch her up.

    ¡°Well, that was pretty much it. He said he hoped I made a good deal with Luvari because I would need it if I wanted to retake the Onyx Throne. Which, what is that, exactly?¡±

    ¡°I can explain that to you later,¡± Allora said.

    Mitchell gave her a warning look and she immediately spoke to allay his fears that she was once again hiding something.

    ¡°It¡¯s not like that, it¡¯s just not as important right now.¡±

    Mitchell arched an eyebrow but nodded.

    ¡°So this dragon is bad?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s bad in the way that a blade in the heart is a lover¡¯s kiss,¡± Lethelin said.

    Allora crossed her arms and shivered, not only from the cold.

    ¡°Come on,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°Let¡¯s get inside and get ready to go. You can tell me as we pack.¡±

    They rushed back into the room where they had set up camp. Tammi and Marvin were alert and agitated, no doubt having smelled the dragon outside, and it took some work to calm them down and get them saddled up. As they packed, Allora explained.

    ¡°Much information was lost after the war that brought down the dragon lords. But a few names survive and the terror that they inspired is still very much remembered. Few dragons remaining alive from that time bring more terror than U¨C¡± Allora caught herself and used his title rather than his name. ¡°Than the Cold One.¡±

    ¡°Remember when I told you there were two dragons living in the Peaks? A blue one and a white one?¡±

    ¡°Vaguely.¡±

    ¡°The blue one ranges farther to the south. She prefers the warmer temperatures. The Cold One is an ice dragon. The cold is where it feels most at home.

    ¡°He made his name through his skills as a slaver. He had a knack for sensing worlds where new mortal races could be kidnapped. He didn¡¯t need to scry for them. It is said that he could smell them. Somehow, he was able to detect suitable worlds and, through his minions, create the teleportation circles to those places. No one knew how he did it. He became the preeminent slaver during the time of their rule. He was responsible for more of our people being stolen from our home worlds than any other dragon.¡±

    Mitchell took that in.

    ¡°So he¡¯s a real piece of shit?¡±

    ¡°That is putting it mildly,¡± Allora said.

    ¡°He was a fan of collective punishment to get obedience from new slaves. He would kill half his stock to get compliance from the other half. Sometimes, he wouldn¡¯t even wait for a sign of rebellion, he would do it preemptively. His servants were just as brutal. Because it was so easy for him to go to the worlds where more slaves could be found, he was unconcerned with how many needed to die to get what he wanted.

    The packing finished, they stood at the entrance of their shelter as Allora finished her story.

    ¡°After Yuliana Blood Scale was killed the mortal races rose up en masse and turned on their oppressors. Those who served the dragons willingly were slaughtered in the most brutal fashion. It¡¯s said that it took a month for the rivers to run clear again from the blood of all the dead. The dragons that could be brought down were. Some fought and tried to regain control of their slaves but, after centuries of growing fat off of our labor, they were unprepared for the scale of the rebellion. And there were many more of us than of them.

    ¡°So, while many were killed in the rebellion, the people were able to gain their freedom.¡±

    ¡°Of course, they set to warring with each other almost as soon as they had that freedom,¡± Lethelin quipped. ¡°Greedy river slugs that they were.¡±

    Mitchell remembered some of that conversation when Revos recounted how his people arrived at a place that the warring factions of survivors weren¡¯t all that interested in at the time. The place they now called Kazig.

    Allora grimaced at that.

    ¡°So much life lost,¡± she agreed remorsefully. ¡°But before the civil wars started there were hunting parties created to seek out and kill some of the cruelest dragons that had escaped the purge. The Cold One was one such dragon. He was one of the most feared and the most hated. He killed every group that came after him, and eventually they gave up. When they realized that he seemed content to stay in his lair in the mountains, they stopped sending parties after him and left well enough alone.¡±

    Lethelin shivered and then added to the story.

    ¡°The rumor was that he knew the scent of every one of his slaves. He could find them even across the continent. Any slave he had bought or sold he could find again. You couldn¡¯t escape from him, no matter what you tried. The only way out was to die.¡±

    ¡°Whatever the reason,¡± Allora continued, ¡°the Cold One always knew when they were coming. None of the men and women sent to make him pay for his crimes ever returned.¡±

    ¡°Fuck,¡± Mitchell said in English.

    ¡°You have Stollar¡¯s own luck,¡± Lethelin said, a grin managing to break through the frown that had creased her face since Mitchell had first mentioned his encounter with Udranth.

    ¡°I guess.¡±

    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s an omen?¡± Lethelin asked Allora. ¡°Maybe the Cold One not killing us all is a sign that we¡¯ll survive this insanity?¡±

    ¡°I hope so. I think we are due some good fortune.¡±

    Mitchell smiled back and soon they were all grinning at each other. Maybe it was his near death experience or the fact that they were all still alive at all, or that he was standing on the top of a mountain in a magical kingdom carrying a sword and a sevith that could harness the primal forces of nature. Mitchell didn¡¯t know but suddenly he felt really good.

    Without asking, he leaned forward and kissed Allora firmly on the lips. She stiffened but didn¡¯t pull away. She started to lean into him and the kiss lingered. He pulled away slowly, and he saw her eyes open and she licked her lips and gave him a smile that Mitchell thought held some promise. Something had definitely changed since she¡¯d woken up.

    From the corner of his eye Mitchell saw Lethelin shift uncomfortably. He turned to her and pulled her close to him and kissed her just the same. She was significantly shorter and she stood up on her tiptoes and leaned much more into the kiss than Allora had, but it was just as warm.

    After the kiss finally broke, Mitchell stepped back and Lethelin fell back on her heels. Then a look of panic passed over her face and she stared at Allora like she thought the Knight was going to take her head. Instead, Allora merely nodded.

    ¡°It is okay,¡± she said quietly. ¡°You have earned my trust.¡±

    Relief washed over Lethelin like a wave and she actually giggled. Her hand came to her mouth and she tried to stop it but a half giggle, half sob actually broke through. Then she stepped forward and embraced Allora who looked just as stunned as Mitchell felt.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Lethelin said into Allora¡¯s shoulder as the elf awkwardly embraced the hardened killer.

    ¡°Um¡­? What¡¯s going on?¡± Mitchell asked, confused.

    Allora patted Lethelin¡¯s hair, who hadn¡¯t broken the hug yet, and gave Mitchell a sympathetic smile.

    ¡°Just something between us. It is okay.¡±

    Lethelin stepped back then and tried to collect herself.

    ¡°Well, come on! It¡¯s getting late, and we¡¯re not dead yet!¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Mitchell told Lethelin.

    ¡°Lead the way,¡± Allora chimed in next.

    ***

    Two days after the dragon encounter, the three of them rounded a corner on the path and stopped dead. Mitchell stared in awe at the land stretching out in front of him. If you had told him it was the Garden of Eden, he would have believed you. The land filling his vision from horizon to horizon was the lushest and most verdant he had ever seen. From this height, he could see for what had to be a hundred miles or more and everywhere was the explosion of life. After the desolate wastes of the desert, he¡¯d just crossed he almost couldn¡¯t believe that such life existed in this world. But it did ¨C and in abundance. Everywhere he looked there was something growing, something living. Greens of every shade and a sprinkling of reds, yellows, and blues. Far off in the distance he could see evidence of worked fields and what might have been towns or villages. There was a glistening line of silver cutting across the landscape from north to south and he thought he could make out some lakes here and there.

    Strangely enough, it felt familiar to him. He felt like he had seen it before. It felt like home, but not a home he had ever known. There was a pull in his chest that somehow resonated with the land below. Time seemed to slow.

    ¡°Welcome to my home, Mitchell Theodore Allen. And now your home, as well.¡±

    Mitchell knew that voice. It was Awen. She was speaking to him through the heart stone.

    ¡°You are beautiful,¡± he responded. ¡°It¡¯s the most beautiful place I have ever seen.¡±

    ¡°Thank you. I await you in Lorivin. You must get to the throne and complete the bond. Then I will be able to aid you much more in the cleansing of the land.¡±

    ¡°Are you safe?¡±

    ¡°Milandris hunts for me, but I have slowed him considerably. His forces grow weary and frustrated, but they have not given up. The things I do to slow him down also damage the land around him and, if he is not stopped soon, I will cause serious harm to the plants and animals that live upon me. I know you have much still to do, but do not delay long. Some of the things I have done to divert him have already caused damaged that may take a generation or more to repair.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re coming.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Mitchell blinked. As Awen¡¯s presence receded from his consciousness, sound filtered back into his ears and things started moving at normal speed.

    Allora stared out at her homeland with what could only be described as pure love. She was where she belonged. Even Lethelin looked a little awestruck.

    ¡°This is Awenor, Mitchell,¡± Allora said, her breath coming out in an almost reverent manner.

    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful.¡±

    They all stared for a moment, simply drinking in the sight of so much life.

    ¡°Awen sends us welcome,¡± he said into the silence.

    Allora only smiled and took her hand in his. Lethelin did the same on his left.

    ¡°Come on,¡± Mitchell declared at last. ¡°We still have a long way down.¡±

    Hand-in-hand, they began the final descent into Awenor.

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    <div>

 Part 3 - Chapter 48

    ¡°Now that we¡¯re getting close, what¡¯s the plan when we get out of the mountains?¡±

    Mitchell looked at Allora, who was finishing some of her rations around the small fire they had built to keep warm. While the temperature had warmed considerably in the last two days of their descent, they were still at high altitude and the nights remained cold.

    ¡°I will need to get to Gilriel¡¯s cabin in the Shadow Glen. She has the rest of my gear. I do not yet know where we are, but I saw the Orna from the overlook before. I think we need to go north out of the mountains. Maybe another four or five days travel overland. Possibly less.¡±

    ¡°Who is Gilriel?¡± Lethelin inquired, already half asleep with her back against the cave wall.

    ¡°She was an Onyx Knight once. Many years ago, before I was born. I think it was around the time Baylor was bonded with Awen. Something happened that caused her to retire, which is almost never done, but she would not talk about it. She left for a life of seclusion.¡±

    ¡°How old is she?¡± Mitchell asked.

    ¡°I am not sure, but at least a hundred and twenty. Possibly older. I did not know of her existence from my time at the palace.¡±

    Mitchell¡¯s eyes went wide.

    ¡°And she¡¯s still alive?¡±

    Allora cocked her head at him.

    ¡°Of course she is. She¡¯s an elf. They can live two or three centuries, usually. It is said that on our home world we could live a thousand years or more, but that is not possible here. I am unsure if it was even possible there. It may just be a legend.¡±

    ¡°Wait, how old are you?¡±

    Mitchell suddenly felt like he had missed a major part about the people here. Granted, the stories of elves on Earth in the fantasy book said they were long-lived but he honestly hadn¡¯t even thought about that with Allora. She appeared so human except for the ears and the strange tilt to her eyes.

    ¡°I am twenty-one high suns old,¡± she told him. ¡°Still a baby among my kind. For comparison, the assassin we fought was, I suspect, close to one hundred and fifty years old.¡±

    ¡°So, you could live for centuries more?¡±

    Allora nodded.

    ¡°It¡¯s really not fair,¡± Lethelin said from across the campfire. ¡°And they look amazing as they age. They hardly get wrinkles at all until they¡¯re dead, and you never see a bald elf.¡±

    ¡°We get wrinkles,¡± Allora corrected, ¡°but just at a much slower rate than most of the other mortal races. The gnomes are also extremely long-lived, as well as the dwarves.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but they¡¯re born looking old,¡± Lethelin said with a sulk. ¡°I don¡¯t want to look all ancient and corpsified while you still look like an Iletishian flower maiden!¡±

    The name caught Mitchell¡¯s attention.

    ¡°What is an Iletishian flower maiden? I¡¯ve heard that before.¡±

    They both looked at him and Lethelin gave a lascivious grin.

    ¡°Do you want to tell him?¡± the thief asked Allora.

    Allora gave a small smile and shook her head knowingly.

    ¡°Flower maidens are women of the personal harem of the Lord and Lady of Iletish. They are selected at a young age and trained in the arts of pleasure and seduction.¡±

    Lethelin jumped in.

    ¡°It¡¯s said that the most skilled can bring their partner to such heights of sexual pleasure that they can kill them. Their hearts just explode!¡±

    Mitchell¡¯s eyes went wide at that.

    ¡°Is that even possible?¡±

    Allora shrugged.

    ¡°I do not know. But regardless, their skills are legendary. They are sometimes used in matters of state, given as presents to nobles or dignitaries, to help aid in negotiations.¡±

    ¡°So they¡¯re sex slaves?¡±

    Allora and Lethelin both looked shocked at the suggestion.

    ¡°Absolutely not. Iletish tolerates no slavery within its borders.¡± Allora answered firmly. ¡°None of the seven kingdoms do.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± Lethelin added slowly.

    A sour look crossed Allora¡¯s face.

    ¡°There is one,¡± the knight amended. ¡°The Tilsins.¡±

    Lethelin shuddered at the name.

    ¡°Who are they?¡±

    ¡°They are a reptilian race,¡± Allora began. ¡°They prefer to live in the damp swampland far to the southeast. Their culture is barbaric and cruel. Delegations sent there to establish relations with their people never returned, and eventually the other kingdoms stopped trying.¡±

    ¡°After the war against the dragons, all the new kingdoms outlawed slavery in any form,¡± Lethelin explained. ¡°But the Tilsins never did. They¡¯re savage creatures that eat their own dead.¡±

    ¡°That has never been confirmed,¡± Allora said pointedly. ¡°We know nothing of their funeral practices. Do not engage in wild speculation.¡±

    Lethelin visibly bristled at the dismissal.

    ¡°Yeah, but¨C¡±

    ¡°Anyway,¡± Mitchell cut her off before this escalated into another one of their petty arguments. ¡°You were telling me about the flower maidens?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes,¡± Allora blinked and looked like she was trying to reign in her own instinctual desire to argue with the thief. ¡°The maidens are not slaves. They are offered the choice twice to leave the service of the royal house. When they are first invited into training at eleven high suns, they can refuse. And once again upon completion of their training at nineteen high suns. But if they agree to remain in the service of the royal house, it is often a lifetime commitment unless the Lord or Lady releases them. Which does happen on occasion. But rarely does one of the girls refuse either offer. It is considered an honor, and the girl¡¯s family is also given a healthy stipend as a reward for their daughter¡¯s service.¡±

    ¡°What if they no longer want to be members of the harem?¡± Mitchell asked. It still sounded uncomfortably close to slavery to him.

    ¡°As they age, they are often put into advisory positions, or given other duties suited to their skills outside the bedchamber. All of them are highly educated and all are capable diplomats, negotiators, and educators. They will never be without employment. They are well respected and highly sought after.¡±

    Mitchell thought about it. They were basically courtesans.

    ¡°What about men? Are there flower men?¡±

    Allora nodded.

    ¡°There are. But they are not called flower men. They are called Varnars.¡±

    ¡°It means polished spear tip,¡± Lethelin giggled. ¡°Basically, they¡¯re called cocks!¡±

    Allora grinned as well.

    ¡°They are not as sought after as the women, but their skills are also legendary.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s wild,¡± Mitchell said.

    This world was filled with so many things that he didn¡¯t know about. It wasn¡¯t just that he didn¡¯t know about them. It was that he didn¡¯t even know what to ask. How did one condense an entire lifetime of knowledge about the different races, cultures, and practices into a handful of questions? How was Mitchell supposed to navigate this world?

    He looked at Allora and Lethelin who had moved on in the conversation and were discussing strategies on getting to Gilriel¡¯s undetected. They wanted to try and avoid being seen by any of the mercenary patrols, given that Allora¡¯s description was well known to all of them.

    Mitchell thought about what the elf had told him. She would likely live for centuries after he died. She wouldn¡¯t even be middle-aged as her people measured such things. What kind of life would they have if he got his wish to be with her, and he became old and feeble while she was still young and powerful. What would that do to both of them? Was he being selfish to even want a relationship with her? Maybe elf and human couplings were shunned here for precisely that reason. He remembered the scene from the Lord of the Rings movie where Arwen told Aragon that she would give up her immortal life to be with him and wondered if that sometimes happened here. It felt to Mitchell like he¡¯d just realized he was the butt of some cruel joke. He was quiet for so long that the women noticed.

    ¡°Is everything alright, Mitchell?¡± Allora asked.

    ¡°Hmm? No, it¡¯s okay. I¡¯m just tired.¡±

    How could he tell her that he couldn¡¯t get the image of her remaining young and beautiful while his body was old and broken out of his head?

    Allora nodded.

    ¡°I will take first watch,¡± she told him. ¡°You can rest.¡± Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Mitchell nodded mutely and began to unpack his bedroll.

    ***

    ¡°Do you hear that?¡±

    At Allora¡¯s words, Mitchell looked up from the ground where he was attempting to navigate a bit of scree as he tried to walk down the slope without losing his feet. Lethelin stopped as well and they all listened.

    ¡°I don¡¯t hear anything,¡± Lethelin called up from the rear.

    Mitchell wasn¡¯t sure. He strained to hear what Allora thought she heard. Her senses were sharper than a human¡¯s, although she told him the heart stone made some changes to his body that would give him better senses as well. He quieted his breathing and tried to focus. Then he heard it.

    Through a pause in the sounds of the wind, he detected a faint cry coming from where the slope reconnected with their path between some rocks.

    ¡°What is that?¡± he asked.

    ¡°What¡¯s what?¡± Lethelin demanded. ¡°I don¡¯t hear anything.¡±

    Instead of answering, she pulled her sword from its sheath. Mitchell, trusting her instincts, did the same.

    ¡°Balls,¡± Lethelin swore quietly from the back and took out Mira while pulling up the hood of her cloak. Immediately her outline became hazy and Mitchell was far enough away that, had he not known she was there, his eyes would have slid right over her. She had demonstrated the effect to him before, and he knew that the closer someone was to her the easier it was to pierce the illusion, but Mitchell was on point, and she was in the rear about ten meters back. The only reason he could see her at all was because he¡¯d been looking at her when the hood came up. He really wanted a cloak like that.

    ¡°What do you think it is?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Shadow cat,¡± Allora said, her voice tight.

    ¡°Balls and hairy cock!¡± Lethelin hissed.

    ¡°It¡¯s early afternoon,¡± Mitchell said, moving up to get closer to Allora. Behind her, he could see Lethelin¡¯s feet breaking up the scree as she closed ranks as well. ¡°You said they hunt at night.¡±

    ¡°That is their preference,¡± Allora replied, scanning around them carefully. ¡°But this one might be hungry. Let us proceed with caution.¡±

    As they continued down the slope, Mitchell tried to review what they had told him about the beasts. They were from the Fey realm, or so it was thought. Highly intelligent, they had six legs, were big enough when full grown to take out a clorvol, and they had some sort of ability to project an illusion to distract their prey while they attacked from another direction. Bright light was the best defense against this as such false images cast no shadows.

    The trio pressed on, arriving at firmer ground, and followed the ancient trail forward. As the path entered into a small crevice between some rocks, the sound became much louder. It was definitely a mewling noise. It sounded almost plaintive.

    ¡°That¡¯s a shadow cat?¡± Mitchell asked in a half whisper. ¡°It sounds like a kitten.¡±

    Allora looked puzzled, and she took the lead, pressing forward carefully as they approached a turn in the path. She crept forward and peered around the corner from where it sounded like the noise was emanating. She was still for a moment and then stood slowly. Looking back, she beckoned him and Lethelin forward.

    ¡°I think we are safe,¡± she told them, but she didn¡¯t sheath her sword just yet.

    As Mitchell stepped around the corner, he saw what had given her pause. It was the aftermath of what must have been an impressive fight between a shadow cat and a razor beak. The stone of the path was dark with drying blood and littered with patches of blood-soaked fur and feathers. It was there that Mitchell got his first look at the two beasts that had inspired so much fear in his companions. They were mangled and dead, but he saw why they had worked so hard to avoid them. The shadow cat lay motionless on the ground, its lower half crushed by a rock that had fallen on it during the fight. Even the half that was exposed was nearly as long as Mitchell was tall. Its thick black fur glistened in the afternoon sunlight, but its crystal green eyes were clouded and lifeless.

    About two meters away lay the razor beak. One wing had been torn off and blood coated its entire left side. It also had a long gash across its chest that had bled profusely before it died. It was anyone¡¯s guess which injury had been fatal, but it was just as dead as the cat that had inflicted the grievous wounds. Mitchell had only seen the flying creatures from a distance, and up close they were even more terrifying. It was nearly as big as a Clydesdale horse, with hooked black talons that were almost as long as his forearms. This one had gray-white feathers that would have blended almost perfectly with the granite of the mountains. Its dark, hooked beak nearly as long as Mitchell¡¯s thigh gaped open with a thick black tongue hanging out.

    The air stank of gore and viscera and the fight was recent enough, perhaps in the early morning hours, that the pools of blood had not yet fully dried. The mewling that had stopped as they¡¯d rounded the corner suddenly started again, only this time it sounded more like a tiny growl. It drew everyone¡¯s attention back to the corpse of the shadow cat.

    From behind a thickly-muscled front leg, a little black head poked up, and two emerald green eyes locked on the three of them. It growled and hissed, doing its best to sound threatening.

    ¡°This must have been some fight,¡± Mitchell said, breaking the stunned silence.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never been this close to a shadow cat,¡± Lethelin proclaimed in a hushed voice. ¡°Stollar¡¯s balls¡­ They¡¯re so much bigger than I thought.¡±

    Allora merely nodded.

    ¡°This one is fully grown. A female.¡±

    ¡°How can you tell?¡± Mitchell inquired. ¡°Its lower half was smashed by that rock.¡±

    ¡°The females usually have more rounded ears. Look at her head. It is not always the case, but that, combined with the kitten, suggests this was its mother.¡±

    ¡°How do you know that?¡± Lethelin demanded. She was tense, and her voice had an edge to it.

    ¡°I did not always skip classes at the academy,¡± Allora explained patiently. ¡°Knights were occasionally sent on patrols in the mountains, and we needed to know about the threats we might face. I did study, you know.¡±

    Rather than reply, Lethelin made a face and did a petulant mimic of Allora under her breath.

    ¡°I did study, you know!¡±

    ¡°Knock it off, Leth,¡± Mitchell reprimanded. ¡°Just because you¡¯re scared doesn¡¯t mean you need to take it out on us.¡±

    The thief opened her mouth and closed it again.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± she muttered, though her tone was softer this time.

    ¡°Is that thing¡¯s father likely to be around?¡± Mitchell asked, trying to redirect the conversation.

    ¡°No, shadow cats do not mate for life. Occasionally, a pack lord will be born that can lead a group of shadow cats, but it is rare. They¡¯re considered an aberration. They are primarily solitary creatures. Meeting only to mate or, in very rare instances, take down a much larger animal or group of travelers. The mother would not have brought such a young kitten out to hunt with her, so my guess is that they were ambushed by the razor beak and neither survived.¡±

    ¡°Well, come on, let¡¯s get out of here!¡± Lethelin snapped, her voice high with tension. ¡°The blood is likely to attract something else we don¡¯t want to tangle with.¡±

    Allora nodded.

    ¡°Agreed.¡±

    The girls began to step over and around the puddles of blood as best they could, heading through the pass, but Mitchell remained still. He had locked eyes with shadow cat kitten, and they stared at each other. There were green-eyed cats on Earth, he knew, but not like this. The kitten¡¯s eyes looked like living emeralds. It was ignoring the others and looking only at him. He felt something tug at his chest as they appraised one another.

    ¡°But what about the kitten?¡± Mitchell spoke suddenly.

    Allora looked back at him.

    ¡°What about it?¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t just leave it here. It will die.¡±

    Lethelin snorted. ¡°You say that like it¡¯s a bad thing.¡±

    Allora had already picked up on what Mitchell meant, though.

    ¡°Mitchell, you cannot be serious. Shadow cats are the stuff of nightmares. They are not pets.¡±

    Lethelin froze and stared at him like he had lobsters crawling out of his ears.

    ¡°But it¡¯s just a baby,¡± Mitchell answered. ¡°We can¡¯t leave it to starve to death.¡±

    ¡°Yes, we can!¡± Lethelin snapped. ¡°Do you have any idea what a fully grown shadow cat can do?¡±

    ¡°She is right, Mitchell,¡± Allora seconded. ¡°A single shadow cat can take out a squad of soldiers if it were to catch them unaware. Once it was big enough, it would kill you without a second thought.¡±

    ¡°You said they were smart,¡± Mitchell countered. ¡°Why couldn¡¯t it see us as friends? If we fed it and took care of it until it could hunt on its own.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a hell-spawned shadow cat!¡± Lethelin nearly yelled. ¡°They don¡¯t have friends! Did you forget what I told you about the one I saw at the high sun festival? It killed a giant scorpion like it was a nothing. I couldn¡¯t sleep for days after! They are some of the most dangerous creatures on Tewadunn!¡±

    He heard her and trusted that she was right, that they both were, but Mitchell didn¡¯t know how to explain the feeling he had. The more he thought about it the more he liked the idea. It felt right. He pressed his case.

    ¡°Allora, you said we needed help. When this thing grows up, imagine if it was on our side!¡±

    He suddenly began to dig in his bag and pulled out his spell book.

    ¡°Look! Here!¡± Mitchell flipped to the page near the middle and found the spell he wanted. A second circle spell that he hadn¡¯t even tried yet. He flipped the book around to show it to her. ¡°Speak with beasts. I could learn this spell and talk to it.¡±

    The shadow cat seemed to sense the tension in the group and its little tentacles waved about warily as it let out the occasional growl and hiss. It otherwise hadn¡¯t moved since they had entered this section of the pass.

    ¡°You¡¯re serious?¡± Lethelin responded first. ¡°No! We can¡¯t! It will kill us all!¡±

    Allora hissed at her to be silent, and the thief did so, but she looked like she had to bite her tongue to do it. Then Allora spoke very slowly, as if she were choosing her words carefully.

    ¡°Mitchell, I am afraid you do not know what you are asking. Please believe me when I say attempting to raise a creature like this as a pet is akin to suicide. And it will not just kill you, it would kill all of us and many more if it were loose in a town or city. Not for food, but simply for the joy of killing. For all their terror, even the razor beaks only kill for food. Shadow cats kill because they like it.¡±

    Mitchell stepped slowly towards where the little shadow cat crouched near its dead mother. It took a clumsy step back and then, almost as if it remembered it was supposed to be a fearsome ball of murder, recovered from its momentary lapse and stepped forward with a warning growl and bared its small fangs at him. From the nodules on the two tentacles, Mitchell could see tiny flickers of iridescence and the air just in front of it the creature seemed to ripple slightly. Whatever effect it was going for, though, it didn¡¯t hold. Mitchell crouched down about a meter away and dug some of his leftover meat from his morning meal out of a pocket. Not breaking eye contact with the animal, he spoke to Allora.

    ¡°I believe you. But something is telling me this is the right thing to do. Allora, we need to take it with us.¡±

    In front of him, the baby shadow cat had stopped hissing and its eyes were now focused on the piece of dried meat that Mitchell held out towards it. He saw its little nostrils flare as it took in the scent.

    ¡°Please, Lora. Trust me.¡±

    He looked up at where she stood and met her gaze. Her lips were a tight line of concern and her brow was furrowed.

    Mitchell could see Lethelin who stood behind Allora with her arms crossed, and her face like a thundercloud. A born and bred city girl, she wasn¡¯t comfortable with most animals in the wild, and he knew this was asking a lot of her. She had rarely been outside Varset before this little adventure began. Mitchell kept his attention on Allora, however. There was definitely a hierarchy between the two women. As much as Lethelin and Allora butted heads, when it mattered, the thief deferred to the Knight. If he could convince Allora then Lethelin would go along, even if with a great deal of protest. Mitchell wished he had more to offer her than the feeling in his gut that he was supposed to find this animal.

    In front of him, the shadow cat¡¯s hunger overcame its fear, and it crawled over the arm of its mother and crossed the short distance between them. It was bigger than he expected. Not at all like a kitten on earth, this was similar to a medium-sized dog, and its body was long, almost serpentine. Watching the way its spine flexed and rolled as it worked its six legs was a little disturbing. It had a grace about its movement that Mitchell found hard to look away from.

    It stopped about a foot shy of his hand. Mitchell returned his attention to the small creature, and the two tentacles on its back began to undulate slowly. He watched and, as quick as a viper strike, the tentacles shot forward the last foot and latched onto the bit of meat and pulled it deftly from his fingers. The little six-legged cat hopped up and caught the meat in its front paws and pulled it to the ground, the tentacles retracting back behind its back as its little mouth started working hungrily at the meat. He saw both Allora and Lethelin jump at the rapid movement.

    The silence stretched long. The shadow cat finished the snack and looked back up at Mitchell expectantly. It mewled once and, took a step forward. The tentacles reached slowly this time and prodded at his fingertips. Mitchell could feel small hooks pull lightly at the skin of his fingers and hands, the sensation not unlike that of a cat¡¯s tongue. He could see them more clearly now. The end of each tentacle was almond shaped and cupped slightly. He thought that if they were opened flat they would be almost as big as his hands. The insides were mostly hairless, and the skin was a dark pink. He could just make out the little hooks that it had used to latch onto the meat, like small fangs. Not finding any further food in his hands, it closed further and bumped its head against his leg and meowed at him.

    With a long sigh, Allora finally nodded.

    ¡°Very well, Mitchell Allen.¡±

    ¡°Oh, balls and hairy taint!¡± Lethelin cursed and stormed away.

 Chapter 49

    For the first time that he could remember, Mitchell¡¯s nose caught the smell of green things. They were out of the heights now, and everyone had finally felt comfortable enough to stow their winter gear. Nights were still chilly but finding firewood was getting easier and that worked well enough to keep the cold at bay. They had one close call with a razor beak that had decided to try its luck but Lethelin spotted it before it could pull off its ambush and quick spells from both Mitchell and Allora sent it screeching off in rage and frustration. The creatures really weren¡¯t too much of a problem as long as you kept your wits about you. Mitchell didn¡¯t know if he was thankful or disappointed that they didn¡¯t actually have to face a shadow cat but, one night around the fire, Allora told him to bite his tongue. Having the kitten was bad enough.

    ¡°I cannot stress to you enough just how dangerous they are, Mitchell. You can see razor beaks coming if you keep your head up. That will at least give you a chance. Most people who die from shadow cats never even knew they were there. You really have no idea of the death you are carrying with you.¡±

    Allora nodded towards where the baby predator was sniffing around their pile of firewood, the tentacles that grew from its back probing along with its nose, almost like they were secondary sense organs. For all he knew, they were.

    Lethelin nodded vigorously but had decided two days back that she wouldn¡¯t comment on it verbally any longer. She was likely to fly into a string of curses involving every appendage Stollar had. She had nearly invoked Denass in her hysterical state when the kitten had prowled over to her sleeping mat that morning to see what it could see. She was so terrified she didn¡¯t speak again until well after they had stopped for lunch. As it was, neither of them would cuddle with him at night while the cat curled up on his chest, which was annoying but he knew he was putting their loyalty to the test.

    As for the cat, it was a little weird how similar in behavior it was to a domestic house cat. It seemed inquisitive about everything and Mitchell got the strangest feeling that it was working on understanding them when they talked. Often it would stop whatever it was investigating and watch them intently during conversations. If Mitchell was being truthful, it gave him the creeps. The strange animal was hungry all the time and the choice was made that hunting for the little beast was more economical than giving it free rein on their dwindling supplies. The girls, of course, refused to help at all.

    ¡°It¡¯s your pet, you take care of it!¡± Lethelin replied tersely when he asked if she would help him hunt some of the smaller game to be found on the mountain.

    So, he did. He actually bagged a wild yulop that afternoon which everyone was happy to enjoy. The cat also liked the fresh meat better than their dried rations. He deliberately didn¡¯t look at Marvin and Tammi as they ate, and he hoped they didn¡¯t know that he was eating a member of their species. Allora told him that yulops were common game hunted on the mountain and the pack animals didn¡¯t seem to care.

    ¡°He needs a name,¡± Mitchell said.

    Allora had determined it was a male that first night.

    The cat was curled up on his lap after having its fill of yulop and it was purring.

    ¡°I agree,¡± Allora said.

    Mitchell blinked.

    ¡°You do?¡±

    ¡°I do not agree with your choice of pet but I have accepted it, Mitchell. And it needs a name.¡±

    Lethelin paused in her work of polishing Mira, and listened. The cat, strangely enough, also seemed to perk up. Mitchell told himself he was just imagining it.

    ¡°I don¡¯t guess Murder Death Ball would work?¡±

    Lethelin rolled her eyes and smirked but Allora actually seemed to be giving the matter some thought.

    Mitchell scratched the shadow cat between its ears, which he had learned it greatly enjoyed.

    ¡°What do you think?¡± Mitchell asked his pet. ¡°Does Murder Death Ball work for you?¡±

    The cat opened its mouth, which Mitchell assured himself was not already bigger than it was two days ago, and yawned lethargically. Then it pushed air through its nose and made a sound that sounded like displeasure.

    ¡°I will think on it,¡± Allora said. ¡°Assuming it does not kill us all, it needs a proper name.

    Lethelin spoke up then.

    ¡°And if I wake up with that thing sniffing my hair again, I will stab you.¡±

    Allora and Mitchell both grinned, but then he saw that Lethelin was not smiling back. Mitchell pulled the cat a little closer but didn¡¯t comment. She always did get a little extra stabby when she was holding Mira. He thought it best not to tempt her.

    ***

    The next afternoon, they were sheltering in a cave from a rainstorm that had suddenly slammed against the mountain. Mitchell almost had to be dragged inside. It was the first rain he had seen since he¡¯d come to this planet and just the sound of it was cleansing to his soul. The scent of water almost made him feel drunk. Even once he was inside the mouth of the cave, he still stood at the entrance for almost a half an hour, just watching and listening to the torrential downpour.

    ¡°The heavy rain will likely wash out some of the trails we need to follow out of the mountains,¡± Allora spoke up from behind him.

    Mitchell pulled his eyes away from the rolling gunmetal gray clouds that were blowing towards the peaks above, where he knew they would be halted. None of this moisture would make it over the peaks and into Iletish.

    ¡°More for me,¡± he thought.

    Allora was toweling her long black hair dry as she stared at the sky.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be okay. We¡¯ve made it this far, a little rain isn¡¯t going to stop us.¡±

    The left corner of her mouth bent up in the small smile she sometimes used that Mitchell felt was just for him.

    ¡°You sound almost optimistic.¡±

    Mitchell took in a big lungful of the damp air.

    ¡°It¡¯s the rain. Where I grew up, it rained a lot. I loved it. This makes me feel like I¡¯m home. Almost.¡±

    Mitchell saw the furrow in her brow appear that showed up every time he mentioned missing home. He knew she still carried guilt about how he¡¯d come here. She hated that she¡¯d had to lie to him. Mitchell reached for her hand and pulled it into his.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± he told her. ¡°I¡¯m not upset.¡±

    She searched his face, perhaps trying to see if she could detect a lie. He met her violet eyes squarely.

    ¡°Of course, I miss home, but I don¡¯t regret coming here with you. I mean it.¡±

    Allora held his gaze for a moment longer, then stepped closer to him. He put his arm around her, and they stared out at the rain together. From the west, there was a flash and a few seconds later the mountain rumbled as the sound rolled up the slopes.

    ¡°It is beautiful,¡± she whispered.

    ¡°It¡¯s the most beautiful place I¡¯ve ever seen,¡± Mitchell answered.

    And he meant it. The forests of the Pacific Northwest were nothing to laugh about. They were ancient and vast and filled him with awe. He had felt so insignificant on family camping trips wandering beneath trees that were old before the Magna Carta was signed that he¡¯d even had nightmares about it. But this forest, which Allora said was the edge of the Shadow Glen, felt different. It felt alive in some way that the forests of his youth did not. Even looking at it from still several miles off, he could feel something thrumming inside him. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°I am glad you find me so pleasing to look upon,¡± Awen spoke into his mind.

    ¡°I can¡¯t even describe it,¡± he spoke back. ¡°Is it okay for you to talk? You said before that this was difficult for you.¡±

    ¡°You are close now. The mountains are the edge of my territory.¡±

    ¡°Are you well?¡±

    Mitchell somehow felt the sigh rather than heard it.

    ¡°As well as I can be. I encouraged the growth of a bacterium in the water supply of Milandris¡¯s expeditionary force that searches the wilds for me. It killed many, but also cost the lives of many of the creatures in that area. This action and others like it are how I slow him. But without aid, they will find me.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°We will make it to the castle. I promise.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± she replied, simply. ¡°I am glad you have made it safely. And I am glad that you are finally able to look upon me. I can feel the love for the land that you have already. You will be a good monarch, should we survive.¡±

    Mitchell felt flattered at her faith in him.

    ¡°I will do my best.¡±

    ¡°I know that you will. Give Allora my love. Tell her that I know how much she fights for me and our people.¡±

    ¡°I will.¡±

    Mitchell felt her presence recede from his mind, and it filled him with a sense of loss. Allora must have sensed it.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Mitchell told her. ¡°I just¡­¡±

    Instead of finishing his sentence, he leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. She pushed herself up to meet him, and they held it for a long moment.

    When he brought his head back up, she was blushing slightly.

    ¡°That¡¯s from Awen,¡± he told her. ¡°She said she knows how much you fight for Awenor.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± she said and licked her lips slowly. ¡°Well, give her this from me.¡±

    Allora tilted her head up and kissed him again.

    ¡°I wi¨C¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Lethelin groused.¡°That¡¯s my food, you hairy little slug! No! Mitchell!¡±

    Mitchell groaned.

    ¡°To be continued?¡±

    Allora only smiled and rubbed her forehead on his cheek. Then they turned and Mitchell went to deal with his murder death ball and his assassin.

    ***

    As it turned out, the cave they sought as shelter from the storm became their campsite for the night as rain continued to pound the mountainside. Their habit of collecting firewood as they walked proved useful once again, as they were able to build a decent sized campfire that kept them warm enough despite the damp chill in the air. Lethelin had gone to sleep first, and Mitchell and Allora were leaning against the far wall of the cave, enjoying the sound of the rain. The cat was snoozing between them, having eaten its fill of the remainder of the yulop meat. Marvin and Tammi were curled up with each other and snoring slightly.

    ¡°Come on, you know you want to,¡± Mitchell chided the stoic paladin.

    ¡°No, I do not.¡±

    ¡°Just a little touch. Like this.¡±

    Mitchell stroked his hand up and down along the length.

    ¡°Nooo.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll help you.¡±

    Mitchell reached across and grabbed her hand. She resisted, but only slightly. He guided her hand over and placed it gently on the shadow cat¡¯s back. Her whole body stiffened the moment her fingers touched the fur.

    ¡°See, you didn¡¯t lose any fingers.¡±

    He couldn¡¯t keep the smile from his voice.

    ¡°Now, just pet it like you would any other animal.¡±

    Without taking her eyes off the fire, almost as if she didn¡¯t look at the animal it wasn¡¯t really her hand that was touching it, she began to pet the cat. Immediately, it started to purr.

    ¡°I think he likes you.¡±

    Allora didn¡¯t respond but as he took his hand away, she kept stroking along the creature¡¯s back. She avoided the tentacles, but Mitchell wasn¡¯t going to complain. The small cave was filled with the sound of falling rain and the crackling of wood in the fire. Mitchell was beginning to doze himself when Allora spoke again.

    ¡°I think I have a name for him,¡± she said quietly.

    Mitchell noticed that it was the first time she¡¯d used the gendered pronoun instead of the generic ¡°it¡±.

    ¡°It is a name from Manaal, the world my people were taken from,¡± she continued. ¡°Vras.¡±

    Mitchell repeated the name and decided he liked it. There was something sinister about it.

    ¡°What does it mean?¡±

    ¡°The stories say that there was a god on our world named Foeg. He was a cruel and viscious deity. His worshipers, while few, were just as nasty as he was. My father told me that some of our people believed that it was Foeg that sold us to the dragon lords as slaves in the first place, that Foeg made a deal with them, and he distracted the other gods as the dragons came for us.¡±

    ¡°Is that true?¡±

    ¡°I do not know. It may just be a story that those early elves told to make themselves feel better about why our gods had not protected us. But, this story is not about him. Not really. It is about his hound.¡±

    ¡°He had a hound?¡±

    ¡°Of a sort. In our language, it was called a radag. Here, they might call it a hellhound. When one of Foeg¡¯s followers would displease him, he would often feed that elf to his radag. Vras liked to play with his food. He would eat arms and legs first, to let them suffer as long as possible before he took their head. Vras was beside Foeg in every conflict with the other gods and their followers. In some ways, the radag was more terrifying than Foeg. He was a cruel god, but there was an order to his cruelty. And he obeyed the concord of the gods of our world. Or, at least if he violated them, he was never caught. But Vras had no rules and only obeyed Foeg. He killed for the love of it, too. Just like shadow cats. There was even a nursery rhyme about it to frighten children.¡±

    ¡°Can you tell it to me?¡±

    ¡°I will try to remember. My father told me the story when I was very young.¡±

    Allora pursed her lips and thought. After a moment, she began. Her voice was hesitant at first, but she gained confidence as the memory came back to her.

    ¡°In shadows deep where moonlight fades,

    Beware the path where darkness pervades.

    For there lurks Vras, Foeg¡¯s hound of dread,

    With eyes like fire, hungry and red.

    Misbehave not, oh children dear,

    For Vras will come when mischief''s near.

    His bark is thunder, his teeth, a snare,

    He hunts for those who don''t play fair.

    With stealthy steps, he''ll stalk the night,

    His growl a warning, chilling fright.

    So mind your manners, be good and true,

    Or Vras will come to feast on you.

    In whispered tales, his legend spreads,

    Of naughty children with bowed heads.

    So heed this rhyme and take its cue,

    Lest Foeg¡¯s radag come after you!¡±

    ¡°Wow,¡± Mitchell said, after letting the words sink in. ¡°Grimm¡¯s Fairytales had nothing on you guys.¡±

    ¡°Grimm¡¯s¡­ What?¡± Allora looked at him confused.

    ¡°Nothing, just something from my world. We share a similar tradition, it seems: Gruesome children¡¯s stories. But yeah, that sounds scary.¡±

    Allora nodded.

    ¡°While terrifying, they serve a valuable purpose.¡±

    Mitchell agreed.

    ¡°Vras,¡± he said aloud, then looked at the cat slumbering between them.

    ¡°The other races will not understand the origin of the name, but my people will. And it will be fitting for him when he grows to his full size. He will strike terror into all.¡±

    ¡°No one has ever had a shadow cat for a pet before?¡±

    ¡°It is inconceivable,¡± Allora reiterated. ¡°Captives, yes. As Lethelin said, they are used in blood sports if one can be captured. But it usually takes a team of handlers to keep it locked away. They use magical barriers and physical ones. The carnage it could unleash if it got loose would be¡­¡±

    Allora shuddered and pulled her hand away from the cat.

    ¡°Vras won¡¯t do that. I can¡¯t explain it to you, but I know this is the right thing. I feel like we were meant to find him there.¡±

    Allora studied him.

    ¡°Tell me about it.¡±

    ¡°It was¡­¡± Mitchell struggled to recall the feeling. It was almost ephemeral now, like a fading dream. ¡°When it looked at me and I looked at it¨Chim¨CI felt a rightness. Like he was for me. It¡¯s the same way I felt when I saw¨C¡±

    Mitchell cut off abruptly, and he felt his cheeks begin to heat up.

    ¡°What? When you saw what?¡±

    He began to fiddle with his fingers.

    ¡°It was the same way I felt when I saw you the first time. Outside of Film Bar.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Allora said and looked away.

    ¡°Yeah. But I know Vras will fight alongside us. I just¡­ feel it.¡±

    Allora considered.

    ¡°I suppose it is possible that Vish has placed the shadow cat in our path for that purpose.¡±

    ¡°Do the gods here really do stuff like that?¡±

    Allora made a face.

    ¡°It is¡­ complicated. Stollar and Denass believe firmly that mortals are meant to find their own paths in life. Recall the story of Lethelin, the beloved of Vish and Ithstasy. Even when their children begged for her to have immortality, they refused. Stollar said it was her destiny to die and he would not alter it. But that does not mean the gods do not nudge things from time to time.¡±

    ¡°So, they pick sides?¡±

    Allora looked uncomfortable with the conversation, but she continued.

    ¡°Vish and Ithstasy meddle more in the affairs of the mortal races than their parents. They are more impetuous. But if they meddle too much, they risk their father¡¯s wrath. It is wrong to say they pick sides, but they will sometimes create opportunities. It is up to us to see those opportunities and take advantage of them. At least, that is what the priests say.¡±

    Mitchell pondered her words. He still had trouble accepting that there were real gods. If any of the gods his people believed in were real, they certainly weren¡¯t as active in the world as the gods here were. He¡¯d been an atheist his whole life and felt that he had good reasons for not believing. The idea of gods being real was a lot harder to accept than magic was. Maybe it was part of the same deal, though.

    ¡°Maybe you¡¯re right,¡± he told her. ¡°I think Vras has a connection to me. It certainly didn¡¯t feel like something I imagined.¡±

    ¡°But I swear to you, Mitchell Allen: If this animal kills us, I will petition Denass to let me have your soul to punish for a thousand years. I swear it.¡±

    ¡°I could think of worse ways to spend eternity,¡± he told her with a sly grin.

    Allora rolled her eyes and grinned.

    ¡°Should we tell Leth what the name means?¡± Mitchell asked, changing the subject.

    ¡°Probably not. At least not right away. She is afraid of him enough as it is. I think she will likely cut your hand off if you try to make her pet it.¡±

    ¡°I think you¡¯re probably right,¡± Mitchell said with a small laugh.

    ¡°Sleep, Mitchell. I will take first watch.¡±

    Mitchell leaned and touched his forehead to hers.

    ¡°Goodnight,¡± he whispered.

 Chapter 50

    "What did you see?¡± Mitchell whispered as Lethelin appeared from around the boulder.

    The lithe assassin pulled the hood down on her cloak and the distortion effect ended, the edges of her form coming into sharp relief once more.

    ¡°Five souls. All armed. Two humans, an orc, a dwarf, and a goblin. They¡¯re a bandit party, no doubt.¡±

    ¡°Scum,¡± Allora almost spat.

    The smell of smoke had alerted them to the presence of others on the mountainside. Surprisingly, it was Mitchell who detected it first, not Allora. He¡¯d noticed that his senses were improving as they got deeper into Awenor. Allora said to expect them to improve even further once he bonded with Awen. But already he felt stronger than he ever had in ways that had nothing to do with all the training and hiking he¡¯d done over the last several weeks. His eyes were better, his hearing was sharper, and he almost never felt winded anymore. Not from just the regular walking and hiking they¡¯d been doing, at any rate. His reflexes were also better, something which Allora noted as they sparred. He was still no match for her but she told him he was already good enough to best the average guardsman.

    ¡°From what I could gather,¡± Lethelin explained, ¡°they¡¯ve been attacking travelers and then retreating up into the foothills.¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t there, I don¡¯t know, rangers or soldiers or something?¡±

    Allora¡¯s brow knit together in frustration.

    ¡°There were,¡± she explained. ¡°These days, patrols are thin. Morale among guardsman after the coup was poor, and the mercenaries that control the lower ranks are not very motivated to stop petty crimes. So, banditry has flourished in the wilds outside the smaller communities.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a bad time to be a thief in the cities, either,¡± Lethelin remarked.

    Allora shot her a hard look.

    ¡°What?¡± Lethelin whined. ¡°I¡¯m just saying. It¡¯s not.¡±

    ¡°You¨C¡± Allora began, but Mitchell cut her off. Now was not the time.

    ¡°So!¡± he broke in. ¡°Do we skirt around them or do we deal with it?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m for dealing with them,¡± Lethelin said with a level tone. ¡°I know I¡¯m a thief and all, but I only steal from rich assholes who can afford it. They¡¯re attacking farmers.¡±

    ¡°Our own little Robin Hood,¡± Mitchell chuckled.

    ¡°Who?¡±

    Mitchell shook his head and looked to Allora.

    ¡°I do not like taking such a risk until you have bonded with Awen and are better protected but¡­¡± She trailed off and looked down the path where the bandits sat sheltered. ¡°I am afraid I must agree. They are preying on the weak.¡±

    Mitchell nodded.

    ¡°And,¡± Allora added, ¡°it will be a good opportunity for you to test your training.¡±

    ¡°I was just thinking the same thing,¡± Mitchell smiled.

    Mitchell had been training almost daily for well over a month now. His sword work was, he felt, more advanced than his spell work as the latter took considerably more time to master, but he had no trouble casting the arcane bolt, or fire bolt spell now, nor was the minor healing he¡¯d learned of any difficulty. He should have been studying more combat-oriented spells, but he¡¯d spent the last few days since they found Vras learning a spell to speak with beasts. It was coming along.

    As a new magic user, Mitchell hadn¡¯t noticed at first, but he discovered with experience that the spell forms were different for the different kinds of mana they required.  As he went from practicing combat to the language spell to the healing spell, he started to detect the subtle differences in how they were cast. The second combat spell he had learned was slightly easier than the first because it was relying on a very similar spell structure. But that didn¡¯t translate over to something like speaking with beasts. There was a common form just as a guitar and a violin had strings and the same general shape. Yet, how you played them was very different.

    Jumping to a new magic type would slow down one¡¯s progress with the others, which is why people chose to specialize. There was nothing for it, though, as far as he was concerned. He wanted as much versatility as a caster as he could get. It just meant he had to work harder, that was all.

    Lethelin said that it sounded like they had just come back from a raid and were busy gorging themselves on stolen food and booze. With a short wait, the rogues should be truly in their cups and present even less of a threat.

    ¡°From the state of the camp, it looks like this is a common bolthole for them,¡± Lethelin detailed. ¡°There¡¯s a fair bit of trash around the entrance to the cave, and I see semi-permanent sleeping areas inside.¡±

    She reached down with a stick and began to sketch a general layout of the cave they sheltered in.

    ¡°The entrance is a little narrow, but it opens up plenty when once you get inside. Looks to have been worked by someone. They were all sitting around the fire when I peeked in on them.¡±

    She drew an X in roughly the center of the diagram, and then made little marks representing the approximate location of each member.

    ¡°Also, I saw a sevith on one of the orcs,¡± she drew a little circle around one of the figures, ¡°And one of the humans.¡±

    She added another circle.

    ¡°The orc has a clear view of the entrance as well. I couldn¡¯t see how many stones he had though, so it¡¯s anybody¡¯s guess. Hard to say how drunk he will be, as they can hold their liquor.¡±

    Allora nodded, studying the diagram. Then, she gave the thief a respectful nod.

    ¡°This is good work,¡± she said. ¡°You have a mind for details.¡±

    Lethelin looked a little taken aback. Allora almost never gave her compliments. Mitchell saw a

    blush actually rise in her cheeks.

    ¡°I¡¯m a thief. Scouting marks is part of the job.¡±

    Allora gave her a small smile, then focused back on the crude sketch.

    ¡°Likely, the orc and the human are not that skilled,¡± Allora speculated. ¡°If they were, they would not be raiding travelers along the foothills. A good offensive magic user is always in high demand. They would be going after larger targets. As you said, it is a good time to be a thief. I would be surprised if they are little more than sprites.¡±

    ¡°Probably,¡± Lethelin agreed.

    ¡°It does not mean they do not have any powerful spells, but it should not be more than we can handle.¡±

    As they discussed the finer points of their strategy, Mitchell found that he was growing excited. Or was it dread? He honestly didn¡¯t know. He wasn¡¯t afraid of the fight. He felt the three of them were more than a match for the bandits that were currently getting drunk about a hundred meters down slope. But most likely he would have to kill at least some of them. His mind went back to the fight with Dakath and the locals he¡¯d hired in that little town that he¡¯d already forgotten the name of, and how he had killed the man who had attacked him. So much had happened after that with Allora¡¯s near death and Luvari, plus the dangers of trekking through the mountains, that he still hadn¡¯t fully dealt with it.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Mitchell thought back to his grandfather, who had fought in a war. He had been a hero in the very real sense of the word, even if Mitchell could no longer remember what it was he had done. His grandfather had killed. Many soldiers had. In practical terms, he was also now a soldier. He was going to be doing battle against Milandris and his forces. He would use the skills he¡¯d learned to end the lives of others. Mitchell wondered if every warrior going into battle had these thoughts. Something inside him told him that he could do what needed to be done, but he also worried what that meant. In the first fight, they had been attacked. In this one, they were choosing not to ignore the danger these men posed and were about to attack them.

    ¡°What do you think, Mitchell?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± he said, being jolted out of the swirl of thoughts going through his head. He¡¯d only been half listening. ¡°Umm¡­ Yeah. Allora in first, since I haven¡¯t learned a shield spell yet. I¡¯ll deal with the orc. You take aim at the other guy with the sevith and knock him out as quick as you can, Lethelin in last to help take out any stragglers. Sounds good.¡±

    ¡°I wish I¡¯d picked up a bow in Besari. I can¡¯t believe I forgot!¡± Lethelin cursed. ¡°I miss my bow.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you say you had a rapier, also?¡± Mitchell inquired.

    ¡°I left that with the local guild in Tregar. It¡¯s a decent-sized town on the Awenor side of the Southern Road. I knew I was likely to be trekking across the desert, and it was too much weight. I had thought to return that way once I was done, but I¡¯ll likely have to send for it now.¡±

    ¡°The guild?¡± Allora asked.

    Lethelin arched an eyebrow. ¡°The local thieves'' guild?¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    ¡°You know they have those, right?¡±

    ¡°I heard rumors growing up, but I thought it was somewhat preposterous. Why would thieves form a guild?¡±

    Lethelin chuckled and wobbled her head.

    ¡°You¡¯d be surprised.¡±

    Mitchell glanced up at the sky. It was getting dark, which meant it was almost time to move. The men should be drunk enough now if what Lethelin said had been accurate. He turned towards the yulops and secured their leads to a nearby bush. They should be safe enough while they were gone. Allora had said that the dire wolves were not nearly as plentiful on this side of the Peaks. They had been hunted more vigorously by patrols and the locals to stop them from raiding the farms and settlements in the valleys.

    Once the pack animals were secured, he checked on Vras who was sitting in the satchel they¡¯d constructed out of bits of cloth and canvas and hung from Marvin¡¯s back. He hadn¡¯t liked it at all, but the little shadow cat mostly slept during the day as it was a nocturnal hunter, so it didn¡¯t freak out the poor animal too much. He formed the spell in his mind that he¡¯d been practicing to talk with Vras and let him know what they were about to do. It kind of worked.

    ¡°I need you to stay in your satchel,¡± Mitchell said slowly to the drowsy creature. He could feel the tenuous nature of the spell, and he wasn¡¯t sure how much of his meaning was conveyed across the link between his mind and the cat¡¯s.

    Vras¡¯s head came up, and it blinked at him, then yawned, and rested its head once again on against the yulop¡¯s side. It had worked. Probably. Either way, it would have to do.

    As he stood up a single thought drifted into his mind right as he was about to drop the spell.

    ¡°Hungry,¡± Vras said in a sleepy voice. ¡°Food.¡±

    ¡°It worked!¡± Mitchell said aloud. ¡°Vras heard me!¡±

    ¡°How nice for you,¡± Lethelin said disdainfully. ¡°Tell the greedy little moocher not to eat all our food while we¡¯re gone.¡±

    Allora shook her head and grinned before turning her attention to Mitchell.

    ¡°He understood you?¡±

    ¡°I think so. He told me to bring food.¡±

    ¡°It is a start. He is young so will need time to learn to better communicate. Once you are more confident with the spell and can form a stronger link, you will need to practice with him frequently. The more you speak with him the more easily you will both understand each other.¡±

    ¡°Good to know,¡± he said and scratched the slumbering shadow cat between the ears.

    ¡°Time to go,¡± Lethelin said as she pulled Mira from the sheath behind her back.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Mitchell answered. ¡°Time to go.¡±

    ***

    As they descended quietly down the slope, Lethelin leading the way, Allora studied Mitchell. His sword was out and at the ready, and he flexed the fingers on his offhand, the one where he wore his sevith. He appeared nervous, but he showed no hesitation. This would be his first true test. Part of her hated taking the risk, but she knew that was just the old fear talking. She had trained him to the best of her abilities so far. He carried his blade with confidence now. Long gone was the unsure Earth man who couldn¡¯t even hold the wooden practice staves properly and tripped over his own feet.

    His body, while not weak in the beginning, had grown significantly stronger. And his physical abilities were improved even further by the heart stone he now carried in his chest. Over the last several weeks he had grown in size, strength, and wisdom. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to ignore the desire to touch him, to run her fingers over his taut muscles. Since she¡¯d awoken in Luvari¡¯s cabin and decided to no longer push him away, it had been almost impossible to stop herself from pulling him close at every opportunity. She wanted him, and she knew he wanted her as well. He never pushed her for more than she offered, though.

    Allora felt as he did that their first time should not be in the mountains, sleeping on bare earth, their bodies filthy from travel. It would not be right. She was not some tavern wench, nor he some sweaty laborer spending his coin on wine and women. But watching the ease with which he navigated down slope, watching how he studied Lethelin¡¯s movements, placing his feet where she placed her feet, watching his body flex and twist, she almost forgot herself and took him right then. She felt that familiar heat grow between her legs and tried not to think about how long it had been since she had lain with anyone.

    They would have their moment, she knew. And he would have his moment with Lethelin as well. The woman still irked her to no end, but Mitchell had been right about her. The dock rat had earned Allora¡¯s trust. She had fought by their side when she could have run, and she sold her own blood and time to the fey witch to save Allora¡¯s life, promising to reveal secrets to Luvari that no doubt she had fought to keep most of her life. Allora once again said a silent prayer to Vish and thanked her for the aid she had sent. A moon child! Allora almost couldn¡¯t believe it. Scanning forward, however, watching how Lethelin stalked ahead, silent and deadly, Allora knew that their little thief cum assassin would be invaluable to them in the fights ahead.

    Once she had accepted Lethelin as an equal, things had settled down between them, but the redhead still knew how to get under Allora¡¯s skin. Her needling had lost a lot of its heat, though. Allora did not know if she could truly be friends with Lethelin, but she had most certainly come to respect her and value her as part of their party. She could also see how much this pleased Mitchell. He loved her, as well. That much was plain to see. Lethelin, for her part, seemed uncertain what to do with that, but Allora was confident it would work itself out. She certainly lusted after him, probably as much as Allora did, but she also seemed scared of that sometimes. In the meantime, Mitchell had become fairly adept at managing Lethelin¡¯s snippy moods as well as preventing Allora from tanning the woman¡¯s shapely ass when she mouthed off. As a result, they were truly coming together as a team with Mitchell at the center.

    For Allora, this was perhaps the strangest adjustment, but not an unpleasant one. Mitchell was asserting himself much more as he learned to trust his own mind and his own skills. Whereas once, she would have had to lead him, more often now he was in charge. He still asked her for her advice, and he seemed to know when to listen and when to deviate from her council. Had he been this way on his own world? It certainly had not been so when he¡¯d first arrived, and there had been times ¨C she was ashamed to admit ¨C when she thought him too weak to do what needed to be done. He had been so helpless that she really had doubted the spell¡¯s choice. No longer, however. Mitchell was growing into his role.

    Almost before Allora realized it, they had come to a stop. Up ahead in the darkness, she could see a weak light emanating from the mouth of the cave and laughter drifted on the wind. The smell of wood smoke and body odor was thick in the air. Per the plan, Lethelin brought up her hood which activated her cloak and began to creep forward towards the entrance to scout for any changes. Allora strained her eyes to find her in the darkness but knew it to be futile. What she wouldn¡¯t give to have a cloak like that. Lethelin had been tight-lipped about where she had gotten it, though. Such enchantments were not easy to come by.

    Allora stepped up beside Mitchell and crouched down next to him.

    ¡°Are you ready?¡± she whispered.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he said.

    His voice was firm. She checked his sword hand and saw it was steady. He crouched on the balls of his feet, body tight and ready to move. He glanced over at her and his blue eyes found hers.

    ¡°You will likely have to kill again,¡± she told him, remembering how the death of the man in his first fight had upset him.

    ¡°I know,¡± he replied. ¡°I don¡¯t like the idea, but I understand what must be done. I won¡¯t hesitate.¡±

    Impulsively, Allora closed the small distance between them and kissed him. As she pulled away, her cheeks hot, she saw he was grinning.

    ¡°For luck?¡± he asked.

    She shrugged, but didn¡¯t answer. She looked down the slope and waited for Lethelin to reappear. She was grinning so hard her cheeks hurt. Allora felt Mitchell¡¯s free hand lightly stroking her thigh as they waited together. Just a moment later, the path immediately in front of them began to blur and Lethelin reappeared.

    ¡°We¡¯re in luck!¡± she exclaimed in a not-so-quiet whisper. ¡°One of the humans is passed out cold. Guess he couldn¡¯t hold his liquor. Only four to deal with.¡±

    She saw Allora¡¯s grin.

    ¡°What?¡± she asked, looking between the two of them. ¡°What are you both grinning at?¡±

    ¡°Nothing,¡± Mitchell said, the smile plain in his voice. ¡°You ready?¡±

    They both nodded and all three of them began their approach.

 Chapter 51

    Mitchell crouched at the ready just outside the entrance to the bandit cave. His heart was racing, but oddly enough, he didn¡¯t feel scared. It was more as though he¡¯d been plugged into a power outlet. Every sense seemed sharper. He felt like he could see as well in darkness as in daylight. The glow coming from the campfire inside the cave might as well have been a beacon. Was this a benefit of the heart stone? Was he only just now noticing it or was it a result of its body preparing for combat? He didn¡¯t know.

    As they paused to do a final check before rushing in, Mitchell suddenly started humming Master of Puppets, his sevith hand tapping the opening guitar riff on his leg.

    ¡°Duh!¡± then the dramatic pause. ¡°Duh-duh duh!¡± His voice was a hushed whisper, but still filled with the frenzied energy of those first notes.

    Allora turned suddenly from her position just in front of him, where she was preparing to cast her shield spell that would cover him as he got off the opening shots of the encounter.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± she asked, her voice a harsh whisper. Her expression was one of incredulity. ¡°You are singing now? Now?!?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Metallica,¡± he told her as if that would explain it. ¡°It¡¯s a great song. Excellent fight music.¡±

    ¡°What in Stollar¡¯s swinging balls is fight music? Are you sure you¡¯re not a bard?¡± Lethelin asked from the rear.

    ¡°It helps me focus,¡± Mitchell explained. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. I¡¯m fine. If I ever find a way to charge my phone again, I¡¯ll play it for you.¡±

    Allora rolled her eyes and, as she turned, the lights on her krisa began to glow. Mitchell saw the air in front of her shimmer as the spell took shape. Then it became mostly translucent.

    The plan was that the elf would step just inside the entrance holding the shield and giving Mitchell time to fire off a couple of shots at the orc that had sight of the door, hopefully taking him out before he could react. Then they would close in.

    Mitchell had learned from Allora that the shield was very mana intensive and required the caster to focus on maintaining the spell rather than launching attack magic like the fire or arcane bolts. Even using a physical weapon could cause the caster to lose focus on the spell form and lose it altogether.

    ¡°It is meant as a protection against a sudden attack,¡± she¡¯d told him. ¡°It is not something I can hold for a long time.¡±

    Then there was the mana drain to consider as well as the increased rate of degradation to her gemstone. It would only be good for a few seconds of protection but, with luck, that was all Mitchell would need. The arcane bolt was no problem for him now, and his confidence in the fire bolt was also growing. So he had two ranged spells available, as well as his sword work.

    Allora looked back and he gave the nod. She drew her sword, and it glittered harshly in the darkness, like the weapon of an avenging angel or a Valkyrie, almost dazzling to his improved sight. All Allora was missing were the wings and glowing armor. The image was so powerful in his mind it almost took his breath away. Watching the change that came over her as she took those last few steps to come around the cave wall, Mitchell began to finally understand what it meant to be an Onyx Knight.

    She stepped around into the light of the cave mouth.

    ***

    The orc, despite having been drinking, was not as intoxicated as they¡¯d hoped. He reacted almost instantly, which Allora said afterward indicated he¡¯d had some training. No mere thug, that one.

    As soon as he caught sight of the invader, he let out a cry of alarm and his sevith was up and flashing. Lighting arced forward with an explosion of sound, filling the air with a loud crackle as it struck the shield. Even with the noise, Mitchell heard Allora grunt under the force of the attack, but her defense held. She even pushed another step forward under the assault giving Mitchell the space he needed to set up.

    Crouching low behind Allora, Mitchell peeked the edge of the barrier and fired off three quick arcane blasts, and then followed that immediately with a fire bolt spell. He¡¯d gotten significantly better since his first fight. Four attacks struck home. The orc was wearing some sort of thick hide that blunted the force of the low-level attack, but it was enough to send him staggering backward, and his spell lost cohesion. The fire bolt spell hit him on the left side striking the exposed flesh of his arm and he screamed in agony as his exposed flesh began to char.

    The rest of the bandit crew were a little slower reacting than their lookout had been. Either they were significantly drunker or they didn¡¯t have the orc¡¯s tolerance for booze. As he bellowed and tried to put out the flames crawling up his arms, the rest of them jumped to their feet and were going for weapons. Allora dropped the shield spell immediately and they closed ranks. Mitchell went for the orc directly, remembering the fight with the one back in Phoenix. Wounds had barely slowed the thing. If this guy was anything like the one Allora had fought before, he needed to be dispensed with quickly.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got him!¡± Mitchell called back. ¡°Deal with the other caster!¡±

    Just as he said that, an arcane bolt zipped past his head and struck the cave wall, exploding in a small shower of rock shards. Mitchell glanced and saw the human caster wobbling on his feet and trying to take aim again. Allora¡¯s sword was up in a flash, deflecting the clumsy strike of one of the bandits with ease. Once he was off balance, she punched him viciously in the throat, and he dropped almost immediately. Then her arm came up, and he saw that same ripple along its length as he had in Phoenix against Ivaran¡¯s men. A burst of force lifted the other caster bodily off his feet and flung him into the back wall of the cave. Mitchell didn¡¯t have time to see if he got to his feet or not, trusting the others to do their job. The enraged orc was coming for him.

    Not bothering to cast another spell, Mitchell¡¯s opponent raised his sword, the blackened skin along his now-burnt left arm cracking and oozing, and brought it down in a vicious overhand blow. Mitchell caught it with his own blade, the shock of it shooting down his arms and into his spine as he diverted the blade away from him. He made a move inside the orc¡¯s reach, hoping to deliver an elbow to the ribs, but his enemy was faster than the man in the town at been. He yanked the sword back, and Mitchell had to dive backward to avoid a slash across the chest. He and the orc stared at each other, the big creature grinning savagely at him. The cave echoed with the sound of steel on steel as Allora dealt with two of the attackers, and he could see Lethelin also engaging the last straggler. The mage hadn¡¯t gotten up.

    ¡°You know,¡± Mitchell said with a pant, ¡°You''re the second burned orc I¡¯ve met.¡±

    Without waiting for the big guy to respond, Mitchell attacked, bringing the sword in low. The orc was there to meet him but Mitchell was counting on that. In a move he¡¯d practiced several times with Allora, he twisted his wrist and circled his blade around the orc¡¯s as they slid in close, locking them together and angling his body back to keep tension on the swords so they wouldn¡¯t slip free. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    The orc was several inches taller than Mitchell and a lot more muscular. In pure strength, he could surely overpower Mitchell and untangle the blades, but Mitchell only needed him still for a second. At the risk of losing his weapon altogether, he freed up his sevith hand and planted it on the big orc¡¯s chest, firing an arcane bolt at point blank range into the leather armor.

    His opponent howled in rage and pain as the magical attack broke through the thick hide protecting his vitals and released his sword, freeing him from the entanglement. Unfortunately, he used that new freedom to deliver a solid punch into Mitchell¡¯s jaw, sending him reeling. Mitchell staggered back and fell to one knee, his vision blurred and his ears ringing. As Mitchell fought to clear his head, he saw the orc bring his sevith back up, the wound in his chest showing bone as blood poured freely to puddle at his feet. Still, he wasn¡¯t dead yet.

    ¡°Oh fuck,¡± Mitchell said and rolled to one side as lightning exploded from the sevith to impact the ground where Mitchell had just been. Jumping to his feet, he swayed, then brought his own sevith around and fired three more arcane bolts at the orc, only the first one striking home. It hit the orc on the right side of his face, and it was enough to sheer off a portion of his skull. Even then, the orc didn¡¯t fall immediately. It took a step forward, almost as if it was going to keep fighting, before finally pitching forward like an oak.

    ¡°Orcs are tough sons of bitches,¡± Mitchell thought to himself, but he didn¡¯t have time to celebrate his victory.

    Trying to shake off the punch, he grabbed his sword and went to help Lethelin, who was fighting the dwarf. Allora had already dispatched one of her opponents. The goblin lay in a bloody heap on the floor. Lethelin appeared to be having a little more trouble given the reach of her weapon, and the long-handled axe the dwarf had. But, she spun beautifully as he advanced on her, neatly side-stepping her enemy¡¯s swing. Almost like she was gliding into his arms like a lover, Lethelin danced inside his reach and slid Mira smoothly into his throat. The dwarf gurgled, a look of shock in his bloodshot eyes, and he collapsed with a wet gasp as her blade came free. He kicked weakly, and it looked like he wanted to crawl, but his strength ebbed as his life bled onto the filthy cavern floor. A few more spasms of his legs and he was still. Mitchell looked around then to see that Allora had also dispatched her second bandit, and the only sound left was the crackling fire and their deep breaths.

    All in all, the fight had taken barely a minute. Mitchell surveyed their bloody work. The cave stank of copper, unwashed bodies, and smoke. Allora stepped over and looked at the orc. She kicked him over and examined the gaping head wound and the gash in his chest.

    ¡°How is your hand?¡± she asked him.

    Mitchell flexed his sevith hand and felt the burning along his exposed fingers. It was the second time he¡¯d gotten that injury from using arcane bolt at such close range.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be okay.¡±

    ¡°You will need to focus your spell work on some of the other offensive magic in your spell book. You risk destroying your sevith if you keep using that trick.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I know,¡± Mitchell nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll start tomorrow. There are some interesting options in there.¡±

    ¡°You did well,¡± Allora told him with a smile.

    He smiled back.

    ¡°Thank you. You did well yourself.¡±

    ¡°These lot were no challenge once the spell casters were dealt with,¡± she said.

    ¡°Them being piss drunk didn¡¯t hurt, either,¡± Lethelin said as she cleaned off Mira and went to work searching pockets.

    ¡°Quite. Not the most honorable, but they will not be attacking anymore travelers and that is what is important.¡±

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t there another human?¡± Mitchell asked suddenly. ¡°Didn¡¯t you say six?¡±

    There was the orc, the other human caster, the goblin, the second human, and the dwarf accounted for. There should have been one more human.

    Just then, a loud snore erupted from what Mitchell had assumed to be a pile of clothes against the far wall.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s balls,¡± Lethelin said, rising to her feet. ¡°That filthy river slug slept through the whole thing.¡±

    Mitchell walked over to the not pile of clothes and used the tip of his sword to pull aside the blanket. The grizzled man looked to be in his forties with salt and pepper hair and the fat red nose and swollen cheeks of a longtime alcoholic.

    ¡°Kill him in his sleep?¡± Lethelin offered from behind Mitchell. ¡°It¡¯s a lot simpler.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Mitchell said immediately, although the thought did cross his mind. ¡°I won¡¯t do that. It¡¯s not right.¡±

    ¡°As you like,¡± Lethelin replied with indifference. ¡°I¡¯m going to keep picking pockets.¡±

    Mitchell looked at Allora who was studying him carefully.

    ¡°What would a knight do?¡±

    ¡°We would arrest him and bring him before a magistrate or justicar. He would have a chance to plead his case. Any evidence collected would be brought against him, and they would decide his fate.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s kind of what we do back home.¡±

    Allora scanned around the small cave and looked at the assembled bundles of loot that the bandits had stashed away. It was a broad collection ranging from mundane items like farm equipment to what looked like expensive artwork and clothes.

    ¡°They may have just been thieves, but it is not hard to imagine that they were also responsible for the deaths of some of those they stole from,¡± Allora mused.

    Mitchell pondered the drunk man and weighed her words.

    ¡°We¡¯ll tie him up and wait for him to wake,¡± Mitchell said, not really liking his options. ¡°We can decide what to do then.¡±

    Allora nodded and fetched rope while Mitchell helped Lethelin search the bodies. Once they¡¯d picked them clean of anything valuable, Mitchell carried them one by one out of the cave and a short distance off before dumping them into a shallow ravine created by the storms that had pounded the mountain side a few days prior. He wasn¡¯t sure yet if they would camp in the same cave and if so, he didn¡¯t want to bed down next to corpses. By the time he had returned from the last body, Allora appeared from up the slope leading the two yulops and their ferocious passenger, who was alert and sniffing. No doubt it smelled the blood. Once Allora came to a stop, the shadow cat bounded off the satchel and over to Mitchell where it began sniffing at his boots and probing with its tentacles.

    Vras began to lick at the damp blood around his soles and Mitchell had to gently shoo him away.

    ¡°I saved you some, it¡¯s inside. Go look by the fire.¡±

    Vras¡¯s golden eyes met his and studied him with far too much intelligence.

    ¡°By the fire,¡± Mitchell repeated, and gestured into the cave.

    The cat turned its ears, then the little grippers at the end of its tentacles, and then its head and bounded off into the cave, its six legs allowing it to almost flow over the rocky surface.

    When he looked back up, he found Allora watching them, her brow creased with worry.

    ¡°He understood you.¡±

    Her voice was flat and even, which it often was when she was upset by something. Allora didn¡¯t get frantic or shrill as Lethelin had a habit of doing when she was stressed. The knight got cold and contemplative. His human friend was all noise and movement, which he thought was uncharacteristic of someone that killed people for a living, but Allora was always deliberate in her words and actions.

    Thinking about the contrast with Lethelin, Mitchell thought that maybe the killing and thieving weren¡¯t stressful for her. Just then his mind flashed back to her stillness before she had killed Ivaran as he lay bound to the wagon wheel. You would have needed a mirror under her nose to know if she was breathing. He supposed that if she were ever going to kill him she wouldn¡¯t do it in a fit of rage, at least.

    ¡°You said they were smart,¡± Mitchell replied, trying to ignore the obvious worry in Allora¡¯s tone. He didn¡¯t want to admit that Vras sometimes freaked him out just as much as it did the women.

    ¡°They are, but¡­¡± her voice trailed off. ¡°Never mind.¡±

    Mitchell grabbed a lead from Allora¡¯s hand and they walked the animals inside.

    Vras was by the fire happily pulling bits of flesh from the goblin leg that Mitchell had unceremoniously hacked off with the dwarf¡¯s axe. That had not been pleasant. Then he caught site of Lethelin bending over their unconscious captive with Mira pointed at his face.

    ¡°Leth, do not stab the prisoner in the nose,¡± Mitchell reprimanded her, sounding more like his father than he wanted to admit.

    She jumped and looked back with a sheepish grin.

    ¡°But it¡¯s just so big and fat! I want to see what happens if I pop it.¡±

    Mitchell arched an eyebrow and gave her a level look.

    She relented and stood back up, sheathing Mira behind her back once more.

    ¡°You two never let me have any fun.¡±

 Chapter 52

    ¡°Wake up!¡± Mitchell shouted to the drunk bandit and delivered a solid smack across his unwashed face.

    The man groaned and his face twisted into a rictus of pain at the force of the blow.

    ¡°Ssstollar¡¯s cock! Lemme ssleep, you sssack of jivi ssshit!¡±

    Their captive never even opened his eyes, instead trying to turn over. Except he couldn¡¯t with Allora¡¯s foot pressing down firmly on his chest. He struggled once against her boot, then finally opened his eyes.

    ¡°Whaddya wa¨C?¡±

    He blinked rapidly trying to clear his ale-clouded gaze and saw all of the six foot-tall elf towering over him, the gems in her krisa glowing brightly in the dim light of the cavern. His eyes widened, but it didn¡¯t appear to be in fear. A grin split his face at seeing the knight¡¯s beauty come into sharper focus, and he hadn¡¯t yet realized the situation he was in.

    ¡°Well, hello, my lovely. I didn¡¯t think we had the coin to pay for whoresss thisss far wessht but you look like your worth every copper!¡±

    From behind Mitchell, Lethelin made a groaning sound that was in time with a severe hardening of Allora¡¯s lips and a narrowing of her eyes. Rather than speak, however, she pressed down so hard with that Mitchell heard something pop in the man¡¯s chest.

    The man howled in agony and let forth a string of curses, spittle erupting from his lips and flying off in all directions as he tried to get out from under her. It was then he finally realized how securely he was bound, and panic began to set in.

    ¡°Whass goin on? Who are you? Where¡¯sss Larek? He¡¯sss gonna bloody kill you, you whor¨C¡±

    Mitchell unleashed a slap across his face again before he could finish that word, then grabbed him roughly by the chin and forced him to finally look at him.

    ¡°Hello. I would like it if you didn¡¯t call her a whore again.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, dear,¡± Allora said and gave Mitchell one of those little smiles that were just for him before turning her cold violet eyes back to the prisoner. Mitchell tried to ignore the flutter in his chest at her calling him dear and focus on the task at hand.

    ¡°Larek,¡± he continued, ¡°whichever one he was, is dead. The rest of them are dead, too. I haven¡¯t yet decided if you¡¯re going to join them.¡±

    Mitchell turned and nodded to Allora. From her side, where she¡¯d been holding it, she held up a sword. It wasn¡¯t nearly as imposing as her own, but it did have an emblem engraved onto the cross guard, that of three crystal shards behind a cathedral-like structure.

    ¡°This is the blade of the city watch in Lorivin,¡± she began, her voice clinical and devoid of emotion. ¡°Although, it has seen better days.¡±

    It did indeed look in long need of a polish. Allora had drilled into him the importance of maintaining one¡¯s weapon, and he never went to bed after a sparring practice without tending to it. This one hadn¡¯t seen a sharpening stone in weeks, at least. The edge was notched in several places and the point had been snapped off. Rust was beginning to spread through the fuller down the middle of the blade.

    ¡°It matches the scabbard that is still attached to your belt. Is it yours, or did you steal it?¡±

    The man¡¯s chest was heaving now, and his body had gone still. He looked wild-eyed between Mitchell and the towering Allora. The pain and the fear seemed to be sobering him up a lot quicker than sleeping it off had.

    ¡°It¡¯s mine,¡± he gasped, at last, when it looked like Allora was about to bear down on him again. ¡°I was in the guard. But that¡¯s all gone now, so it don¡¯t matter.¡±

    He wheezed, his chest clearly paining him. Mitchell wondered if she¡¯d cracked a rib.

    Allora narrowed her eyes once again, and Mitchell felt him shrink away. Mitchell released the man¡¯s jaw now that they had his full attention and sat back to let Allora interrogate him. When she¡¯d found the blade next to the fire as they cleaned up and prepared for their meal, she had immediately begun searching for the matching scabbard. Not finding it among the odds and ends, she checked first him since he was the one remaining and, luckily, he had it still on him, and she didn¡¯t need to search the bodies down in the ravine. Finding it buckled to his belt, she had gone very quiet and ate her dinner without speaking.

    ¡°What is your name, rank, and who was your commander?¡± she demanded, her voice containing a hard, military-like edge to it.

    He swallowed then answered.

    ¡°Kole. Kole Norwell. Guardsman 1st class. My commander was Riston Havel.¡±

    Allora¡¯s eyes widened slightly, so Mitchell guessed that she knew him.

    ¡°Did Commander Havel survive the coup?¡±

    Kole wobbled his head.

    ¡°He and all the commanders were executed, and Milandris placed his own people over the city watch.¡±

    Allora looked away then, her eyes seeing nothing for a long moment.

    ¡°And how did you come to be here, Master Kole, among bandits?¡± she said at last.

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t nothing left for me in the capital. I fled. Wife was in the guard too, but she was killed the night it happened. Her unit charged into the palace. They never made it out again. I ran into the countryside, used up what little coin I had, then had to steal to get food. Eventually met up with Larek.¡±

    ¡°You swore an oath,¡± Allora¡¯s voice was tight with barely contained rage. ¡°You swore an oath to the people of Awenor, and now you rob them? Kill them? Have you no honor?¡±

    This accusation seemed to hit the man somewhere deep. He surged up so quickly that Allora almost lost her balance as her foot rose up against Kole¡¯s chest. Mitchell quickly grabbed his shoulder, but the man had stopped. His eyes were glowing with rage.

    ¡°What of King Baylor¡¯s oath?!¡± he screamed. ¡°What of his oath to serve the people and protect us? Protect my Mekena! My wife! If he hadn¡¯t spent the last years fucking and drinking himself into a stupor, maybe Milandris wouldn¡¯t have been able to do what he did!¡±

    Allora did step back then, some of her anger flowing out of her at the man¡¯s grievances.

    ¡°And what of the oath of the Knights?¡± Kole demanded. ¡°Why didn¡¯t they stop Baylor, may Denass burn his soul?! Why did they stand by and do nothing while Awenor started to fall apart?! Don¡¯t speak to me of oaths, woman! There are no oaths left in Awenor. They died with the knights! They died with my Mekena!¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    The man slumped back to the ground and stared blankly at the ceiling of the cavern. Mitchell didn¡¯t think he was really seeing it, though. His body was limp and unmoving.

    Mitchell stood to go to Allora, who looked at Kole with a look of horror on her face.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± he asked gently.

    He put his hand on her arm, and this seemed to startle her back to the present.

    ¡°I¡­¡± But she didn¡¯t continue. Instead, she looked down at the sword in her hand and then to her own sword, wrapped once again to hide the stone in the pommel. She placed the guardsman¡¯s sword gently on the ground.

    ¡°I need to be alone, please. Excuse me.¡±

    She turned and went outside into the pre-dawn light. Lethelin came up then and watched with him.

    ¡°Going to go after her?¡± she asked.

    ¡°No. She needs the time. I¡¯ll give her a bit.¡±

    They both looked back at Kole who still hadn¡¯t moved.

    ¡°Do you think a lot of people feel like he does?¡±

    Lethelin inhaled and let it out slowly.

    ¡°Honestly, yes. I don¡¯t think Milandris would have had nearly as easy a time as he did taking over if the knights had survived. Losing Baylor was shock enough, but for the knights to be killed¡­¡±

    She wobbled her head.

    ¡°I think everyone just lost the will to fight anymore. It broke something in us, Mitchell. I think a lot of people feel exactly like he does.¡±

    Mitchell put his arm around her slender waist and pulled her to him, then kissed the top of her head.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t going to be easy, is it?¡±

    Lethelin snorted.

    ¡°If it was going to be easy, I wouldn¡¯t be charging you so much.¡±

    He looked down at her, arching another eyebrow, only to see her grinning back up at him, a twinkle in her green eyes. She popped up on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the lips.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m worth it.¡±

    ****

    After about a half an hour, when Allora didn¡¯t come back, Mitchell decided to go and check on her. The prisoner had stopped responding to questions altogether after his outburst, so they let him be for now. He found Allora sitting cross-legged on a small bolder with her sword across her knees, staring west across the wide expanse of Awenor as the sun crept up over the mountains. They were still deep in the shadow of the peaks, but just high enough that Mitchell could see the golden rays light up the farthest reaches of the Shadow Glen.

    ¡°Hey, you,¡± he said quietly in English as he stopped next to her.

    She turned to look at him and cocked her head slightly.

    ¡°Haaa yoo?¡± she repeated back to him, trying to mimic the unfamiliar sounds of English. ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a greeting to someone special to you.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± she said and turned to look back at the horizon.

    Mitchell had seen that her eyes were a little puffy. She¡¯d been crying. Suddenly, she turned back to him with her small smile and said, ¡°Haa yoo.¡±

    ¡°Going to have to teach her English diphthongs, I guess,¡± he thought to himself with a chuckle.

    Mitchell looked at the rock and thought there was just enough room next to her for him to join her. He hopped up and squeezed next to her and took her hand into his. She gripped it tightly and returned to staring at the horizon. Mitchell joined her, and they sat quietly for a time. He knew she would talk when she was ready.

    ¡°We tried,¡± she said, her voice almost plaintive. ¡°The other knights, I mean. I was not in a position to do anything.¡±

    Mitchell said nothing, just squeezed her hand by way of encouragement.

    ¡°Baylor was the monarch. We could not give him orders. My mother and father did all they could do to remind him of his duty to the land and to the people. He did not care. All we could do was advise and counsel him. My father told him what was happening, and sometimes he would remember himself and give orders but, in the last few years especially, it was all we could do to get him out of his chambers. He had given up. He lost all interest in governing.¡±

    ¡°You said he was old, a monarch for seventy or eighty years, right? And he was human?¡±

    ¡°He was 103 years old when he was killed.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s really old for a human. Maybe his mind was going.¡±

    Allora gave him a puzzled look, then raised her eyebrows in some realization. She smiled and looked slightly embarrassed.

    ¡°If the coup had not happened Baylor could have expected to live at least another 60 or 70 years. Maybe longer.¡±

    ¡°How is that possible?¡±

    ¡°The heart stone,¡± she explained. ¡°It will extend your life significantly. I am sorry I did not tell you sooner. I did not think of it.¡±

    Mitchell was stunned.

    ¡°You mean I might live to be two hundred years old?¡±

    ¡°That would be the upper limit for a human, I think, but I suppose it is possible.¡±

    Mitchell¡¯s mind reeled at the thought. What would that even feel like? But then he had an idea.

    ¡°Lora¡­ How many humans have been the monarch of Awenor?¡±

    She furrowed her brow, and he could see her running through names in her head.

    ¡°Three,¡± she said at last. ¡°You will be the fourth. Why?¡±

    ¡°Did they all experience problems in their later years?¡±

    She frowned, then turned her attention inward, perhaps trying to remember history lessons she¡¯d had as a girl.

    ¡°They did,¡± she said at last.

    ¡°The one you told me about before, that killed a bunch of people and made Awen change her mind about giving monarchs crystals. Was he human?¡±

    Allora¡¯s eyes started to widen.

    ¡°Yes!¡± she exclaimed, as she started to make the connection. ¡°Do humans all go mad on your world?¡±

    Mitchell grimaced and started to shake his head. Then he corrected himself, and wobbled his head the way they did here.

    ¡°Not exactly.¡±

    ¡°What is it then?¡±

    It was Mitchell¡¯s turn to furrow his brow as he tried to figure out how to explain what he thought the problem was. Realizing it was too complicated, he asked her to use the language spell on him. Something she hadn¡¯t needed to do for a while.

    ¡°The average life span of a human on Earth is about 80 years, give or take. Our technology has gotten to the point where there is a real possibility that we could extend life well beyond that. Not yet, but in another few decades, they think humans might live to be even older. Not with magic but with powerful medicine that repairs the damage of aging.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like it would be a good thing,¡± Allora commented.

    ¡°On the surface, yes, but our species didn¡¯t evolve to live that long. One issue that has come up among scientists is a concern about what such a long life would do to our minds. The older we get the faster time seems to pass. Most people die before it becomes an issue but as we start living longer the topic comes up more and more. What would a significantly longer life do to us psychologically? As we age, time starts to feel different for us. We perceive it differently. What long term effects would that time distortion have? What would it mean to have a head so full of memories?

    ¡°It may be that we figure out how to live for centuries but go insane well before then. We don¡¯t yet know what effects that will have in the long term but I wonder if what has happened to the human monarchs is one example.¡±

    ¡°Baylor was only 103,¡± she said.

    ¡°That¡¯s still older than most people on my world and we have all kinds of medicines and machines to keep people alive. The vast majority die well before that. We have more than doubled the life expectancy of our species in the last century or two, although that has more to do with keeping infants from dying in child birth, but still. Many illnesses that would have killed people just a few decades ago can now be treated or cured.¡±

    Allora turned inward again and went over the implications of this new revelation about humans.

    ¡°I tell you this so that you know that I don¡¯t think what happened to Baylor was anything the knights could have prevented, especially if no one even understood the problem. If I¡¯m right, anyway. This is only something the people of my world have recently started talking about and I¡¯m just speculating. But I do know that our species simply didn¡¯t evolve to live that long. Even if the stone was keeping his body in good condition, it sounds like it doesn¡¯t do much for their¡ªour¡ªminds.¡±

    He pulled her hand to his mouth and gave it a kiss.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t your fault. Or your father¡¯s fault, or any other knight.¡±

    Allora was silent for a while as the sun crept higher, illuminating more of Awenor before them. It was her way. Mitchell loved that about her. She never spoke in haste. She always considered her words.

    ¡°Thank you, Mitchell.¡±

    She turned slightly towards him and brought her head in close. Mitchell mimicked her movement and their heads met in the middle.

    ¡°Will you execute him?¡± she asked quietly.

    ¡°I was worried you would ask me that.¡±

    ¡°The decision should be yours. He is a criminal, almost certainly guilty of murder. Despite what he was, and what happened, he chose the path of the brigand. It is punishable by death.¡±

    ¡°Of course it is,¡± he sighed.

    In the back of his mind, he knew that something like this might happen. If not today, then in the future. He was expected to be a ruler here, not just a soldier. He would hold the fate of men and women in his hands. He doubted telling Allora he¡¯d always been against the death penalty would be of much use. This wasn¡¯t America.

    ¡°Time to face the music,¡± he said reluctantly.

    ¡°Always music with you,¡± Allora chuckled. ¡°I want you to fix your device so I can hear it one day.¡±

    ¡°As my lady commands,¡± he said as he hopped down and held up his hand to her.

    She took it with a smile, dropped down, sheathed her sword, and they walked together back into the cave where their prisoner waited.

 Chapter 53

    Kole jerked still when Mitchell and Allora came walking back into the cave. Mitchell saw that he had worked himself up into a sitting position and appeared to be perspiring. Glancing around the cave, Mitchell didn¡¯t spot Lethelin. Instead he saw the two yulops, waiting for the packs to be secured to their harnesses, and a shadow cat with a very swollen belly laying comatose next to the dying fire, absorbing the warmth.

    ¡°Leth?¡± Mitchell called out.

    Like a ghost, she appeared, about a meter to the left of their prisoner.

    Kole let out a cry and jerked away so hard he almost managed to roll himself over.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s swinging cock!¡± the man croaked before groaning at the pain of whatever Allora had done to his chest. He began to cough.

    Lethelin gave a full-toothed grin, thoroughly enjoying his shock and surprise.

    ¡°He was trying to cut the ropes on the rocks. It was fun to watch him wiggle about so I let him keep trying.¡±

    ¡°What in the nine hells kind of magic is that?!¡± Kole demanded as he tried to right himself with his hands and legs bound.

    ¡°Nothing you need to worry about,¡± Mitchell said before stepping up to the man.

    ¡°You talk funny,¡± Kole muttered.

    ¡°I get that a lot.¡±

    ¡°Kill me or let me go,¡± he demanded. ¡°I¡¯m pissing, either way.¡±

    Mitchell made a face and then stared for a long time at the pitiful wretch of a man. He¡¯d been a proud guardsman once. Now he was filthy, unshaven, and drunk. What would Mitchell have done in his situation? The man had had his whole world turned upside down. He¡¯d lost his wife, his monarch, his kingdom, his job, his home, and his purpose all in a single night. Was Mitchell any better than he was?

    Mitchell drew his sword and the prisoner went still, eyes watching the blade. He licked his lips and Mitchell thought he could see a fresh burst of sweat begin to bead on the filthy man¡¯s forehead.

    He closed the distance but, rather than run him through with his sword, He placed it at the ropes of the man¡¯s ankles and sliced the bindings free. Unlike Kole, Mitchell took good care of his blade and while the angle was a little awkward, the sharpened steel cut through the cordage easily enough. Not waiting for further comment Mitchell bent down and grabbed Kole by the front of the shirt and hauled him to his feet. He was surprised at how easy it was.

    ¡°Walk,¡± Mitchell ordered and pushed him forward towards the mouth of the cave. Lethelin and Allora followed behind, neither speaking. ¡°And would someone grab his sword, please?¡±

    Lethelin nodded and snatched it up from the ground where Allora had left it.

    When they emerged outside, the day had progressed far enough that the sun was creeping up the slopes of the mountain. It was a truly beautiful morning. The sky was crystal blue with only a few clouds visible. The breeze carried with it the scent of the forest below and Mitchell felt a tug in his chest. He recognized it as almost a good morning from Awen as if to say ¡®I see you and acknowledge you, too.¡¯ The sensation filled him with awe. His mind was quickly brought back to the task at hand.

    ¡°What are we doing?¡± Kole asked, his voice quavering.

    ¡°Be quiet,¡± Mitchell ordered, and they waited. It wasn¡¯t long before Kole began to fidget but Mitchell held him firmly.

    The sun continued its creep up the mountain slopes as it traveled west and Mitchell watched the line of daylight draw closer. Once it was touching the top of Kole¡¯s head he finally spoke.

    ¡°I want you to swear by Stollar¡¯s holy light that you will take this second chance and use it wisely. You will not steal again and you will do your best to live an honorable life.

    ¡°What?¡± Kole said, looking back at where Mitchell stood behind him. ¡°You¡¯re not going to kill me?¡±

    Mitchell stared into the drunk man¡¯s bloodshot eyes. He noted again the ruddy cheeks, the swollen nose, the unkempt beard with bits of food and who knows what else still dried in it. He took in the man¡¯s rank body odor and could even see the lice picking their way through his hair. He¡¯d rarely seen such a pathetic specimen of a human being. Maybe among fentanyl addicts that lined the streets of Phoenix in their tents and lean-tos, perhaps. But not this close.

    ¡°Swear it if you wish to go free.¡±

    ¡°I swear!¡± Kole stammered. ¡°I swear under Stollar¡¯s holy light that I will not steal again and try to lead an honorable life. I swear.¡±

    Mitchell studied him closely. He knew he was taking a chance with this but he decided to believe what Allora had told him about the gods. Oaths sworn to Stollar in his light carried weight. They weren¡¯t empty words. He hoped that it would be enough to keep Kole on the right path going forward. Mitchell knew this wasn¡¯t his home, he knew that things were different here, but he couldn¡¯t find the strength to execute someone. And he wouldn¡¯t dare ask Allora or Lethelin to do it. Allora was right, the decision was his. He had decided to show mercy.

    Mitchell looked back to Lethelin.

    ¡°May I have that?¡± he asked, and pointed to the guardsman¡¯s sword.

    She placed it into his hand pommel first, and he spun Kole around to face him and held the blade up in front of his face.

    ¡°You are no longer deserving of this weapon.¡±

    With a powerful overhand swing, Mitchell brought the rusted sword down on a nearby rock, striking it with the flat of the blade. With a sharp twang and a snapping sound, the blade broke into three pieces. Kole flinched back at the explosion, fearing one of the shards might strike him, but they sailed clear.

    Mitchell spun Kole back around and, with the remaining few inches of the sword, he carved through the ropes at the man¡¯s elbows and wrists. Once they were free, Mitchell gave him a shove forward.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°Now, get out of here.¡±

    Kole Norwell, once of the city guard of Lorivin, stumbled forward, still slightly drunk, and nearly landed on his face. He righted himself and spun around, perhaps thinking they were going to kill them anyway.

    ¡°You¡¯re really going to let me go? Just like that?¡±

    Rather than answer, Mitchell brought up his sevith and fired three quick arcane bolts at the man¡¯s feet, sending up a shower of loose rocks.

    ¡°Balls and taint!¡± Kole screamed and fell back, landing solidly on his ass.

    ¡°Go!¡± Mitchell barked at him. The man crab walked backward losing his footing more than once before he got to his feet and took off running as fast as he dared down the slope. One arm was pressed tightly to his right side where his injured ribs caused him pain but he still moved like death was right behind him. Mitchell watched Kole until he ducked behind some boulders and vanished from sight.

    He turned back around to find both of the girls staring at him. Lethelin with a look of consternation on her face, and Allora looking¡­ Well, he didn¡¯t know how she looked. Her face had gone flat.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to execute him,¡± Mitchell explained. ¡°I didn¡¯t want my first official act in Awenor to be taking someone¡¯s life. Not like that.¡±

    ¡°I would have done it,¡± Lethelin said. ¡°Free of charge! He¡¯s a thief and a murderer!¡±

    This got a reaction out of Allora. She turned an incredulous violet eye on Lethelin.

    ¡°And what are you?¡±

    ¡°That is totally different!¡± Lethelin said, trying to defend herself. ¡°I only stole from people who could afford it. And those I killed were no loss to anyone. If anything, the crown should have been paying me for my services. I was doing the people of Awenor a favor!¡±

    Allora rolled her eyes so hard Mitchell thought she might hurt herself.

    ¡°Lady Vish, give me strength,¡± Allora pleaded gazing towards the heavens. ¡°Your humble child is being asked to endure more than is possible!¡±

    ¡°Oh, stop being so dramatic,¡± Lethelin snapped.

    As fun as their spats could be, Mitchell decided to head this one off before either of them built up a head of steam.

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t ask you to do it, Leth. I wouldn¡¯t ask you or Allora to do something I wasn¡¯t willing to do myself.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Lethelin said as he distracted her from whatever she had been about to say to Allora. ¡°I guess that¡¯s okay then. You might be okay at this leadership thing.¡±

    ¡°Would you see to the packs, please?¡± he asked her, chuckling.

    ¡°As my lord commands,¡± she said and gave him smile and a bow before skipping back to the cavern.

    ¡°Buuut,¡± she called back in a sing song voice. ¡°My lord can suck on the ass end of a clorvol if he thinks I¡¯m touching his furry little hell beast!¡±

    Allora broke out into a giggle despite herself and he saw her cheeks flush.

    ¡°She does have a way with words,¡± the knight said, almost in admiration.

    ¡°That she does.¡±

    Mitchell walked up beside her and tossed the remains of the broken sword into a clump of bushes.

    ¡°Do you think I did the right thing?¡±

    ¡°I do not know,¡± she said somberly, her smile fading. ¡°I think you acted according to your conscience and that you have a noble heart. But I cannot say if it was the right thing.¡±

    ¡°Mercy is the mark of a great man,¡± Mitchell intoned, remembering the line from an old TV show back home.

    ¡°Is that so?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he admitted. ¡°I¡¯m making this up as I go along.¡±

    Allora smiled and brought her forehead to his.

    ¡°There is one here who already thinks that you are great.¡±

    He returned her grin.

    ***

    Mitchell stopped just at the edge where the grass started to grow uninterrupted. One more step and he would be officially off the mountain and in Awenor. It was an arbitrary line and he told himself he was being more than a little stupid but he stared at the boundary just the same. He turned then and looked back the way he had come ¨C at the impossibly large peaks that were so high as to be almost unreal, their tops, shrouded in swirling mists and seeming to pierce the very heavens themselves. The Skybreaker Peaks were well-named. He thought of everything he had been through to get to this point.

    The things he had seen, the people he¡¯d met, and what he¡¯d learned so far boggled his mind if he stopped to think about it. The distance he had traveled was not just in miles, kilometers, or leagues. He was so much more now than he was that night she had found him. Hell, the Universe was more! He knew he couldn¡¯t go back now, even if he¡¯d wanted to. Somewhere on this path he walked, home had become Tewadunn. Awenor was where he belonged.

    ¡°Mitchell?¡±

    He turned back around and saw Allora looking at him expectantly a few meters further on.

    ¡°She had come with another guy, but she was going home with me.¡±

    Home was where Allora was. Just the sight of her, with her pale violet eyes and her long black hair blowing in the breeze, made his heart beat faster.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he said, a little chagrined. ¡°I just¡­ I can¡¯t believe we crossed that. On foot. It doesn¡¯t seem possible.¡±

    Mitchell found he was too embarrassed to say what he was really thinking. It felt too childish to say out loud.

    It was her turn to stare up at the mind-bending size of this continental divide.

    ¡°By the time Lorivast, the first to bond with Awen, crossed the peaks with his band of adventurers, the lands west of the mountains had been empty for several hundred years.

    She closed the distance to him, pulling Tammi with her, and took his hand in hers while they watched the mist settle gently around the peaks. Vras was in the satchel, although he barely fit now, dozing as he usually did during the daylight hours.

    ¡°Yuliana had claimed it for herself and none were allowed in without her express permission. In truth, the stories say, she rarely visited here. She preferred her lair in the northeast, near the Glass Sea. Her most trusted dragons, Udranth being one of them, guarded the passes and it was death to cross without her seal. Even if she never went there, it was hers and dragons are selfish and greedy by nature. It was part of her hoard and that she never looked upon it was irrelevant.¡±

    Mitchell grunted. Lethelin, who had been pulling up the rear with Marvin, was walking slowly, and cursing. Apparently, Marvin had decided he wanted to eat the new grass and she was constantly having to pull his head away from the fresh green shoots.

    ¡°Did she know about Awen?¡±

    ¡°Yes. The dragons had an uneasy peace with the elementals. They understood their function and that they helped maintain the health of the land they claimed, so they did not interfere. It was not until after their regime fell that the greed of the mortal races turned to a fresh source of wealth and they started hunting and killing them. But the work of rebuilding the already settled territories took generations and there was little interest in exploring the lands to the west.¡±

    ¡°Some help would be appreciated,¡± Lethelin snapped. ¡°Instead of standing there and gawking at the mountains like a couple of fish-brained cloud addicts!¡±

    Lethelin pulled up Marvin¡¯s head for the umpteenth time. The disgruntled animal bleated and moved to nip her leg for her impertinence and she danced back.

    ¡°Knock it off, you big dumb beast or you¡¯ll be what we eat for dinner tonight!¡±

    Marvin exhaled forcefully through his nose and glared back at her.

    Mitchell laughed.

    ¡°We need to stop anyway, go ahead and let him graze for a bit.¡±

    ¡°Ugh! Go then! I¡¯m tired of your smell, anyway.¡±

    Lethelin flung the lead up over Marvin¡¯s head and it landed between a couple of the packs on his back and stayed put. Marvin immediately turned, showing Lethelin his ass, and began munching. But before Lethelin could turn away, the animal let out a surprisingly loud fart aimed right in Lethelin¡¯s direction.

    Lethelin gaped at the audacity of the pack animal until the smell hit her. Then she heaved like she was going to vomit.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s taint!¡± she gasped as she stumbled away coughing from the odor.

    Mitchell and Allora were rolling with laughter, tears streaming down both of their faces as the thief came up even with them. She took in a couple of clean breaths and glared at them.

    ¡°I hate you,¡± she growled, and stalked farther down the slight hill with as much dignity as she could muster.

    It took a few minutes for he and Allora to calm down but their grins would stay in place for a good while. Together, the two of them crossed that line from mountain to field. Even though it was completely imaginary, Mitchell didn¡¯t care.

    ¡°I¡¯m home.¡±

 Chapter 54

    ¡°Food,¡± Vras insisted for the third time.

    ¡°Not food. Friends.¡±

    Vras looked from Mitchell back to where Tammi and Marvin were resting in the grass a short distance away and he sniffed at the air. He brought his emerald eyes back to Mitchell¡¯s and studied him.

    ¡°Smell food. Meat. Other meat food. This meat, too.¡±

    Mitchell sighed. This was turning out to be harder than he¡¯d anticipated. Allora was right that with practice it was getting easier for them to talk to each other. The magic didn¡¯t seem to require the same amount of focus as when he originally learned it. This spell, like Allora¡¯s shield spell, required concentration, which meant continually feeding mana into it to keep it active. It didn¡¯t expend nearly as much effort as the shield, but it was enough that he could detect the drain on his reserves. The more practice he had, the easier it became to maintain the link.

    Allora said that, unlike connecting to another humanoid mind, connecting with an animal was more difficult. Through practice, however, his mind and the cat¡¯s would fall into sync and thus lower the demands on his mana.

    Even with the spell getting somewhat easier, he was frustrated by Vras¡¯s slow pace in understanding. Sometimes Vras displayed comprehension that would rival a human¡¯s, at least that¡¯s how it appeared to Mitchell. Other times the creature could be painfully single-minded. It almost always had to do with eating, of which Vras did a great deal, and he had the increased size to show for it. In the five days since they¡¯d come across him, it looked as if he¡¯d added a good ten pounds and was approaching the size of a retriever. He had already outgrown the original satchel Mitchell had crafted for him that allowed him to doze while they walked during the day. And the fangs were definitely bigger.

    ¡°Some meat is food,¡± Mitchell explained for the second time, ¡°but other meat is friend. Am I food?¡±

    Vras took a step forward and put his front paws on Mitchell¡¯s leg. His tentacles probed at the exposed skin of his hand. The little hooks that grew out of the flesh plucked at his skin but didn¡¯t break it. The cat sniffed, extending itself and licking his hand. Then, it studied him intently.

    ¡°Smell food but¡­,¡± Vras said uncertainly.

    ¡°But I¡¯m not food, right?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°What am I?¡± Mitchell pressed.

    Vras lowered his front two paws back to the ground and turned in a circle once, his body undulating in that hypnotic way as the motion was carried through the cat¡¯s six legs. He looked at Mitchell, the women, and the yulops in turn. Finally, he settled back on Mitchell, and he could swear he saw the beast¡¯s brow furrow in consternation.

    ¡°You are tar s¡¯thyr.¡±

    ¡°What is tar s¡¯thyr?¡± Mitchell asked the shadow cat, struggling with the odd syllables.

    At this, Allora looked up sharply. For the most part they left him alone when he did anything with Vras. Despite her petting him, Allora still acted like he was going to rip her throat out at any moment and Lethelin was¡­ Well, she was Lethelin and had made her stance on the creature perfectly clear.

    ¡°Did he call you tar s¡¯thyr?¡±

    Mitchell glanced at her and nodded.

    ¡°Do you know what it means? He only repeated it back to me as if I should understand it.¡±

    ¡°It is Wiavian,¡± Allora said. ¡°The language of the Fey.¡±

    ¡°Do you understand it?¡±

    ¡°Not enough to speak it,¡± Allora replied, wobbling her head. ¡°But there were lessons taught at the academy. Knights are expected to have at least a rudimentary understanding of several languages. It roughly translates to human pack leader. However, if you recall, shadow cats do not usually hunt in packs. They are solitary, usually only coming together to mate.¡±

    ¡°Well, he says that¡¯s why I¡¯m not food. He sees me as a tar s¡¯thyr.¡±

    ¡°What does he say about us?¡± Lethelin asked.

    Mitchell asked Vras and the cat looked to the women and then back at him and gave the answer. Mitchell chuckled.

    ¡°What?¡± Lethelin demanded.

    ¡°He said you are mates of the tar s¡¯thyr.¡±

    Allora blushed and Lethelin grinned.

    ¡°Tell him no one has mated around here in a dragon¡¯s age,¡± the thief said almost mournfully.

    ¡°But he also says you smell like food. It¡¯s confusing to him.¡±

    Allora¡¯s face went flat and Lethelin¡¯s grin became an intense glower.

    ¡°I¡¯ll show that little furball what¡¯s food and what¡¯s not!¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not going to eat you, Leth,¡± Mitchell chided her gently. He turned his attention back to Vras.

    ¡°Some people are not in the pack, are not mates, and are also not food. They are friends. We don¡¯t eat friends.¡±

    Vras looked upset by this and hissed his annoyance while glancing at the slumbering yulops who had no idea that he was arguing over their continued existence.

    ¡°But¡­ why?¡±

    ¡°Because they help us. Having friends makes like easier. The women are not just mates, they are friends, too.¡±

    Vras sneezed at that.

    ¡°Tar s¡¯thyr¡¯s small mate not friend. Not give food. Yells. Not friend. Food?¡±

    Mitchell sighed again.

    ¡°Leth¡­¡± Mitchell said slowly across the small fire to where she sat watching the exchange. ¡°I need you to be nicer to Vras.¡±

    She barked a laugh.

    ¡°And I need a week in the royal palace in Iletish getting oiled massages from the king¡¯s own flower maidens, but that isn¡¯t going to happen either!¡±

    ¡°I mean it,¡± he said, his voice a little firmer, and then explained what Vras had said.

    ¡°What about Allora?¡± Leth demanded, although there was a definite whine mixed in there as well.

    ¡°Allora doesn¡¯t yell at him anytime he gets close, and she pets him.¡±

    Lethelin¡¯s eyes went wide and she stared disbelieving at the knight.

    ¡°You pet it? When? Why?¡±

    ¡°Only a couple of times when you were sleeping.¡±

    ¡°Balls and taint!¡± Lethelin swore looking between them. ¡°Is this a plot against me or something?¡±

    ¡°Do not be absurd,¡± Allora said, rolling her eyes.

    ¡°I¡¯m not asking you to sleep with him in your bedroll,¡± Mitchell said quickly before Lethelin could get too deep into her temper. ¡°Just¡­ Maybe give him a bite of your food from time to time. Don¡¯t scream and wave Mira at him if he gets too close.¡±

    Lethelin glared at Allora, then turned her flinty green eyes at Mitchell, then finally down at Vras, who was watching the exchange with interest, like he always did. Just how much did the creature understand, Mitchell wondered, not for the first time. As Lethelin glared at Vras his ears flattened to his head and his tentacles lowered themselves down as well. Up close, Mitchell could see the muscles in his back two sets of legs start to twitch. Whether it was to flee or pounce, Mitchell couldn¡¯t be sure. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    The moment held, neither of them moving, until finally Lethelin broke.

    ¡°Balls!¡± she hissed.

    She reached for a bit of meat that she hadn¡¯t yet eaten from their kill this evening, a flightless ground bird that Allora called an athi and which tasted a lot like turkey. Lethelin had been able to sneak up on it where it sat drinking by a stream and killed it with her dagger. It wasn¡¯t a huge bird but combined with their dwindling supplies, it was enough for tonight. Allora seemed confident they would come upon a town soon. Once they did, she could get an estimate of how far away this Gilriel¡¯s cottage was.

    She pulled a section of the breast meat off the bone and made to throw it across the fire at where Mitchell sat with Vras.

    ¡°Don¡¯t throw it Leth. Come on. You never know, he might save your life one day. But not if he can¡¯t stop thinking of you as food.¡±

    She glared daggers at him but didn¡¯t argue. Instead, she brought her arm down and held it off to the side. She was looking off in the distance, not making eye contact with Mitchell, and definitely not looking at Vras. Her lips were pressed firmly together and her body as taut as a bow string. As for Allora she was watching the whole episode with barely disguised amusement.

    ¡°Go ahead,¡± Mitchell said to Vras. ¡°She¡¯s offering you food. She¡¯s a friend.¡±

    Vras, ears still flat and tentacles low, looked back up at Mitchell with uncertainty. After only a slight hesitation¡ªVras would never willingly turn down food, especially not meat¡ªhe began to pick his way around the fire, placing each foot carefully, and never taking his eyes off of Lethelin.

    Lethelin could still see him in her peripheral vision and her hand started to tremble ever so slightly, but she remained stiff as a board. Vras stopped, crouched low, and his tentacles started to sway, still low to his body. Mitchell caught the barest flicker of light from his vantage point as the shadow cat tried to summon an illusion, but it was a skill he didn¡¯t fully control. It was something Mitchell had noticed a few times when Vras was scared. Lethelin noticed it as well and a small squeak escaped her throat. Vras twitched at the sound but didn¡¯t bolt.

    Finally, satisfied Lethelin wasn¡¯t going to strike him, his tentacles shot forward and hooked the piece of athi meat, and he bounded back towards Mitchell¡¯s side. Lethelin did scream then and jumped up and started shivering and rubbing her hands up and down her arms as she paced back and forth behind Allora who was doing her best to suppress laughter at the assassin¡¯s discomfort.

    ¡°Nine hells that was awful!¡± Lethelin swore. ¡°Balls and hairy fucking taint!¡±

    Mitchell tried not to laugh at the woman¡¯s obvious fear and discomfort, but it was a little hard not to. He scratched Vras just behind the ears, which the animal enjoyed just as much as cats on earth did, and told him how brave he was.

    ¡°And thank you, Leth. I know that was hard for you.¡±

    She didn¡¯t respond, but her face softened, if only slightly. She paced a little longer and once the shivers stopped she reluctantly sat back down and took a bite of her remaining athi. Vras, already finished with his morsel, looked at her expectantly.

    ¡°You had your piece, leave me alone,¡± she warned.

    Vras sat back on his haunches and lowered himself to the ground and watched her from across the fire.

    ¡°I should have asked for more money,¡± Leth grumbled as she ate the last few bites.

    ¡°I would have paid it,¡± Mitchell said with a wink.

    ***

    The group cut overland rather than stay on roads. Allora didn¡¯t want to take the chance of running into a patrol. They could be local forces, a sort of forest guard that Allora said policed the wilds and worked to either deal with bandits or hunt dangerous threats that sometimes emerged from the Shadow Glen, or they could be a mercenary patrol. Either way, she didn¡¯t want to risk exposure.

    Having gauged roughly where they were after catching sight of the Orna River, Allora had guided them in a southwesterly direction.

    ¡°It is one of the main tributaries of the Aurix River, the largest waterway in Awenor,¡± Allora had explained. ¡°The Aurix meanders west for nearly six hundred leagues from its headwaters in the peaks to the Olydian Ocean. The capital, Lorivin, also sat along its banks, and it was a vital trade route. Gilriel¡¯s grove is within the Shadow Glen two or three days walk from the Orna near a settlement called Clayfaire.

    ¡°That is what we need to find. We will walk to the river, stay hidden, and once we get to the nearest town, I will find out where Clayfaire is.¡±

    With that in mind, their party set off. Vras, having out grown his satchel, was forced to stay awake during the day, which he clearly didn¡¯t like, but Mitchell told him he needed the exercise. Mostly, he kept pace with Mitchell as they walked, but he would sometimes bound off after picking up the scent of something, and more than once he returned with some small forest creature in his teeth. Each time he offered it first to Mitchell. Allora speculated it was a sign of respect and deference to a tar s¡¯thyr. Mitchell always declined, and Vras swallowed it down whole before resuming pace with them.

    ¡°What kinds of things live in the forest?¡± Mitchell asked as they trekked across a small field with waist-high grass.

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to know,¡± Lethelin said from behind him where she was bringing up the rear.

    ¡°It is home to some terrifying creatures but also many beautiful things as well,¡± Allora said. ¡°It is an ancient place of spectacular beauty but also great danger. Some people make their home within its depths as there are many plants and animals that can be found nowhere else. Logging is also done as there is a special tree that grows there called the Blackmoor Oak. It is shockingly strong while also being flexible enough to be used in crafting. It is dangerous to harvest, however as it only grows in the Blackmoor, which has several deadly predators.¡±

    ¡°So, expensive?¡± Mitchell asked.

    ¡°Extremely,¡± Lethelin remarked. ¡°Rich people are always wanting it to craft their furniture with it or make pleasure yachts. You should see them move in and out of Varset harbor, like glitter fish doing a mating dance.¡±

    Mitchell had no idea what a glitter fish was, but he thought he understood well enough. She seemed to have a strong dislike of the ostentatiously wealthy. She certainly loved stealing from them, at any rate.

    ¡°No one gets that kind of wealth honestly,¡± she had explained once, ¡°so I¡¯m just stealing back what they already stole.¡±

    This had prompted an argument that had lasted several minutes between she and Alloraabout the morality of theft, and Mitchell had not bothered to try to get them to stop. He had decided it was good for them to go at it once in a while. It made managing their clashing personalities easier when it counted. And, despite their petty squabbles, he knew they had genuine respect for each other at this point. The three of them had endured far too much together not to. He had begun to think of them almost as sisters in the way they fought.

    ¡°We do not need to go deep into the Shadow Glen to get to Gilriel¡¯s grove, but caution is advised,¡± Allora explained. ¡°No place inside the forest is truly safe.¡±

    ¡°Noted,¡± Mitchell said.

    Off in the distance, maybe a few more miles, Mitchell could see a dark line of foreboding trees that signaled the start of the Shadow Glen. Allora said that, by her estimate, the Orna was maybe only a few leagues beyond the boundary of the wood. They passed the time mostly in silence, with the occasional conversation about Mitchell¡¯s world, or some bit of information about Awenor. By the time the sun was setting they were only a few hundred yards from tree line. It was as good a place as any to make camp for the night.

    As they went about setting up, Mitchell noticed Vras. He had gone perfectly still and his head was hunched low, his ears pressed back flat and his tentacles still against his body. His back to legs were crouched to spring. He was staring hard at the tree line, and his eyes were flitting back and forth. A low growl was coming from his chest.

    Mitchell went down on one knee and scratched at the spot just behind his ears that he liked. Vras, so focused on the tree line, jerked and hissed at the sudden touch. His head snapped around and his teeth were bared until he saw it was Mitchell. Then, if it was possible for a cat to look embarrassed, he did. The creature¡¯s eyes widened and ran his tongue through his mouth, almost as if he was trying to get stuck peanut butter off the roof of his mouth. His tentacles came up then and plucked gently at the back of his hand as he pet him.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong,¡± Mitchell asked, after casting the language spell.

    Vras bumped his head into Mitchell¡¯s knee and rubbed it around before staring back at the forest.

    ¡°Very old,¡± the cat said. ¡°Powerful. Strange magic.¡±

    ¡°Are you afraid to go in?¡±

    Vras hissed.

    ¡°Not afraid. I am gratha,¡± Vras said, almost indignantly. ¡°I do not fear.¡±

    Mitchell had learned through their talks that gratha was what they called themselves. Allora wasn¡¯t sure about the meaning in Wiavian, but she said it was similar to grathena, the word for demon or devil. Shadow cat was merely what the people of Tewadunn called them in Common.

    ¡°Allora says we shouldn¡¯t have too much trouble.¡±

    Vras didn¡¯t answer, merely stared, eyes once again flicking around, tracking something.

    Mitchell studied the tree line, but he couldn¡¯t see anything out of the ordinary. He wondered what the shadow cat saw. He was reminded of a feline they¡¯d had when he was young. His father had named it Polgara, after a character in an old fantasy novel. It was a big shaggy thing, some long-haired breed. Shedding season had been a hoot. Polgara was always staring at nothing, and it would exhibit similar behavior to Vras just now. As if it could detect things no one else could see. Sometimes it would bolt across a room and jump on some bit of furniture as if it was going to attack something, but then it would stop, look around as if confused, then climb down awkwardly and go sit in a corner and start grooming itself. It was the weirdest thing.

    Mitchell could feel the muscles in Vras¡¯s back twitching as it stared into the twilight at the forest edge.

    ¡°Come on,¡± he told the cat. ¡°Keep me company while I finish setting up, and I¡¯ll give you some of my meat.¡±

    Vras¡¯s ears flicked at that, and it licked its chops again. Almost reluctantly, he turned his gaze away from the forest and trotted next to Mitchell as he went to Tammi to begin unloading their provision. Tammi chuffed when he got near, as the yulops always did, but they had gotten somewhat used to Vras¡¯s presence. More than once the cat seemed to enjoy spooking them.

    ¡°Is everything okay?¡± Allora asked as she cleared ground for their fire.

    Vras approached the firewood she had assembled and began to sniff it.

    ¡°He says the forest is very old, with strange magic. I think he¡¯s feeling a little¨C¡±

    Vras¡¯s head turned and he gave Mitchell a hard stare. Mitchell blinked. He¡¯d dropped the language spell, but if he didn¡¯t know better, he would swear Vras was warning him not to say he was afraid.

    ¡°Um,¡± Mitchell stammered, shocked that Vras had apparently anticipated what he¡¯d been about to say and disapproved. ¡°He, uh, he¡¯s feeling we might need to be careful once we get into the forest.¡±

    Vras held the look another second or two, flicked his ears, and then went back to sniffing the firewood.

    Allora, not missing the exchange, gave them both a curious look but didn¡¯t comment.

    ¡°Vras is wise. The forest is a dangerous place.¡±

    Vras studied her, his tail swishing, and then closed the distance with Allora before bumping his head against her knee, and then walking away in what Mitchell could only describe as a strut. The knight went stiff at the contact, but didn¡¯t otherwise react.

    Mitchell could only chuckle at the display.

    ¡°Cheeky fucker,¡± he said in English as Vras stepped into the high grass and vanished.

 Chapter 55

    Mitchell found himself hunching his shoulders again and made an effort to stand up straight. He could already feel the knot forming in that spot just to the left of his neck where it connected to his shoulder. He¡¯d lost count of how many times that had happened since they entered the Shadow Glen that morning. He noticed it affected the others as well. There was something oppressive about the land here. The weight of deep time pressed down on their heads. Even the yulops were sluggish and drooping.

    ¡°The forest is almost as old as I am,¡± Awen¡¯s voice came into his mind. ¡°It was one of the first parts of the land I nurtured. It is alive, in a way.¡±

    Mitchell blinked at the sudden intrusion but then that feeling of warmth and connection came as it always did when Awen spoke directly to him.

    ¡°Is it sentient?¡± he asked her as he stepped over roots from a gnarled old tree that were jutting up from the loamy ground.

    ¡°Not as such, but it has moods.¡±

    Awen paused and he felt a tingle in his mind, then she spoke again.

    ¡°Humans on Earth would call it a super organism. Hmm¡­ I like that word.¡±

    Mitchell could hear the smile in her voice.

    ¡°The vast network of roots has created a rudimentary sort of consciousness. It knows you are here. It can sense you.¡±

    ¡°Is it hostile?¡± Mitchell asked.

    ¡°Not in the typical sense. It will react to negative stimuli. This is why harvesting wood in the forest can be so dangerous and is so rarely done. A small number of trees being chopped down is no more to it than you shedding hair. But a large number of trees being harvested would prompt a response from the forest itself as it would feel itself under attack.¡±

    This fascinated Mitchell. It made him wonder if the old growth forests on Earth had also developed a kind of consciousness. You could certainly feel the weight of time there, albeit not as intense as he felt now.

    ¡°Are we in danger?¡±

    ¡°Not from the forest, but there are plenty of creatures that would happily devour you if they have the chance. Do be careful.¡±

    ¡°I intend to. Are you well?¡±

    ¡°I am. Milandris lost several warlocks specialized in earth magic when, by sheer accident, a cliff face they were hiking near to join the primary expeditionary force, suddenly collapsed and crushed them.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no! How tragic!¡± Mitchell said and joined her in laughing.

    ¡°They were meant to relieve the ones that he has already worked to exhaustion and so his efforts have slowed considerably.¡±

    ¡°How do you stay hidden? Why hasn¡¯t he found you already?¡±

    ¡°Because of how he is forced to search. His magic users probe into the earth for large crystal structures deep underground. Crystals resonate with a certain frequency. It is well known that I reside in an onyx geode so it narrows down their search. They can sound the resonate frequency of onyx in the ground and, if they locate a source, that is where they dig. But I know something they don¡¯t know.¡±

    Again, Mitchell could hear and feel the grin in her voice.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°I have long known how the mortal races hunt for my kind. The methods have not changed. While my arrangement with the monarchs has been extremely beneficial, I did not leave my security to the Knights alone. Millennia ago, I began to encourage the growth of other onyx geodes ¨C deeper than they would form naturally to add additional difficulty to those that would hunt me. There are several scattered throughout my domain that, while beautiful, serve only as misdirection in the event that the protection of the monarchs and the knights failed.¡±

    ¡°How devious of you.¡±

    ¡°I thought so,¡± she said with a small chuckle. ¡°But it is not foolproof. Eventually they will weed out the false positives and locate me. Currently, they are nearly a hundred leagues away from my true location, and between them and me there are four other geodes that are large enough to trick his spellcasters. And that is assuming he heads in this direction next. He has already located three and wasted considerable time in excavating them. With the revelation of the second false positive he became so enraged that he killed one of his casters himself.

    ¡°Without earth casters it could take several months to dig deep enough to find the geode. With casters that time can be reduced by a third or more, depending on the number he has and their skill levels. Thus, my ability to kill seven fresh ones has bought us additional time.¡±

    Mitchell was very glad to hear that. The ticking clock that was their mission had been driving him slowly mad, Tell-Tale Heart style. So, while he knew they weren¡¯t out of the woods¡ªliterally in this case ¨Cher revelation did take a considerable load off his mind.

    ¡°Well, Allora says once we get to this woman¡¯s cottage and retrieve her items, we can set out to the capital and try to retake the throne and the city. I have no idea how we¡¯re supposed to do that, but, as she likes to say, Vish will provide a way. I hope.¡±

    ¡°It will be my great joy to show you the land through the full bond. I know you will be amazed.¡±

    ¡°Of that,¡± he told her with a smile of his own, ¡°I have no doubt.¡±

    ***

    By the time the sun set, they had made it to the banks of the Orna. They had set a fast pace and compared to trekking over a mountain range, walking on mostly level ground was easy.

    The river cut a wide path through the forest and Mitchell could see ample evidence of frequent floods. Allora said this was not the wet season, so the danger was minimal. Even so, they made camp well back from the banks.

    Over the course of the walk, Mitchell had seen a great deal of smaller wildlife but, so far, none of the large creatures Allora had warned about. With his senses, which were now incredibly sharp, he thought they would have ample warning if something dangerous approached. He often picked up the rustling of smaller creatures in the underbrush, or caught the musky scent of some animal. He hadn¡¯t noticed it as much in the mountains where there wasn¡¯t such an abundance of life, but now that they were down in the land, keeping his attention focused on something became increasingly difficult.

    Now, there were a thousand little distractions that his eyes, ears, and nose picked up on. He felt like that schizophrenic dog in the UP movie he¡¯d watched as a kid.

    ¡°Squirrel!¡± he¡¯d muttered more than once as something else caught his notice, much to the consternation of both Allora and Lethelin. He just grinned and didn¡¯t bother explaining. It was okay if they didn¡¯t get the joke.

    It turned out to be Mitchell¡¯s shadow cat that gave the the most cause for concern as they walked through the foreboding wood.

    Vras, having mastered his discomfort of the forest, had begun to scamper up the trees and bound from limb from limb. It looked to Mitchell like the cat was having the time of his life. Vras marveled at the way his shockingly sharp claws found such easy purchase in the bark. He discovered that he could climb a tree nearly as fast as he could run on the ground. Then, after a few experimental leaps from one tree to another, he began to push himself, aiming for trees farther and farther away each time.

    They had stopped for a quick lunch among a dense section of the gnarled and ancient trees and, while they ate, Vras busied himself with his own activities. The three of them watched as he leapt from one branch to another. Then he jumped back, but this time didn¡¯t go for a branch, instead trying to orient his body to land with at least four paws flat on the trunk itself. He failed the first few times and fell to the ground, a little dazed. He got up and did it again, though.

    ¡°Is no one else disturbed by how powerful it¡¯s becoming?¡± Lethelin asked as she watched him make the attempt again. Lethelin still wouldn¡¯t use the gendered pronoun.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s kind of the point,¡± Mitchell had said. ¡°He is on our side, remember? We want him to get stronger.¡±

    What he did not say so as not to spook her more than she already was, was that it did indeed disturb him a little how strong and agile Vras had already become. Still only about a quarter of his full size according to Allora, his muscles rippled underneath his coal-black fur. Mitchell thought he detected the animal getting bigger by the day. And seeing something that strong, and that would become stronger, glide from branch to branch, and land almost silently, claws extended, Mitchell began to get a sense of the threat Vras posed. He believed Allora and Lethelin when they said shadow cats were natural-born predators, but he had been comparing Vras to tigers or pumas from Earth. Yet, a tiger could not do what Vras was doing. And Vras¡¯s mother had been substantially larger than any feline from his planet.

    Vras made the jump again, clearing the 20 or so feet with ease, and this time stuck the landing. His tail and tentacles swished happily as he craned his head around to eye the tree from which he had leapt from. His muscles bunched and he leapt again, landing solidly on the opposite trunk. It was almost hypnotic watching how he seemed to glide through the air with the power of his leap, elegantly rotating around to land on the opposite trunk.

    ¡°Few have had the opportunity to study shadow cats up close,¡± Allora said, a note of awe in her voice as she watched the display. ¡°And, to think, this one is only a baby.¡±

    The elf shuddered, her mind perhaps going to images of the damage he could do once he was fully grown.

    Just then Vras leapt, only this time for a tree in another direction and once again, stuck the landing. Mitchell watched as it peered to the left at still a different tree about five meters away. It leapt once again landing a little awkwardly, but recovered and then, almost in the same instant, to the left again, landing on the same tree as he had when he completed the first jump. Mitchell saw it then and was about to tell the girls what he thought Vras was doing when the shadow cat did it again ¨C much faster this time.

    Vras leapt back to his starting tree and, only stopping long enough to coil for the next jump, went to the left, landed perfectly, bounded to the left again, and then back. He¡¯d jumped from trunk to trunk in a rough square, clearing 15-20 feet per leap, in just a handful of seconds. He arrived back at the original tree, bounded lightly down, and flopped on his belly, panting slightly, and rolled to the side, tongue lolling in a clear grin of triumph. They all stared at him, stunned.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°I am disturbed now,¡± Allora said, her voice wary, a bite of food still halfway to her mouth where she had been holding it since Vras began his display.

    ¡°Thank you!¡± Lethelin said in triumph. ¡°Balls and bloody taint! I thought you¡¯d replaced your brain with rotten fish scales!¡±

    ¡°That was pretty awesome,¡± Mitchell said to Vras as he languished in his victory.

    ¡°That¡¯s a strange way to say terrifying!¡± Lethelin grumbled.

    Mitchell chuckled.

    ¡°I like the trees,¡± he said. ¡°I can hunt from above. Quiet. Hidden. Protect tar s¡¯thyr and mates.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a good plan,¡± Mitchell told him and scratched his belly. The cat¡¯s green eyes alighted with pleasure as Mitchell praised his success. And offered him some of their food, of course.

    Vras was hunting regularly on his own now and didn¡¯t need any of their food, but he still seemed to like to beg for it anyway. Mitchell credited his quick increase in size with the plentiful game they found here as opposed to the mountains. Meals would have been fewer and farther between in the peaks.

    Now that they had arrived at the banks and evening had come, everyone enjoying the much needed rest from the hard pace they¡¯d set themselves. Mitchell had gotten a chance to work on the cloud of daggers spell, something that he¡¯d been neglecting since he got Vras. He had not managed to cast it and sustain it. It had two forms ¨C a quick burst that was to last about six seconds, and another that could be sustained, albeit with a significant mana cost which also meant significant wear on his stones. Allora had pointedly reminded him that he was neglecting his study of offensive and defensive magic to talk with his pet, and so he had promised that he would begin again.

    ¡°Rock, paper, scissors?¡± Mitchell called out as he saw Allora yawn.

    He had taught them the game days back as a quick way to decide watch schedules. Allora had taken it up with a surprising amount of fervor, viewing it as a true strategy game. He could see her brows knit together as she tried to discern the next throw of her opponents. Lethelin, on the other hand, played like he did, throwing down what ever occurred to her in the moment.

    ¡°I better not get middle shift again,¡± Lethelin said. ¡°I had middle last night.¡±

    The thief won the first throw getting paper to Mitchell¡¯s and Allora¡¯s rock. Then, Allora beat him with a throw of scissors to his paper, and Mitchell was stuck with the hated middle shift.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re grinning so much,¡± Mitchell said as Allora sipped her tea with a smile. ¡°There¡¯s no strategy here. It¡¯s random. You didn¡¯t know what I was going to throw because even I didn¡¯t know what I was going to throw.¡±

    Allora looked at him with a delicately arched eyebrow across the rim of her little tin cup.

    ¡°I got the watch shift I wanted, did I not? I like being up before the sun so that I can speak my prayers to Vish and do my calisthenics.¡±

    Mitchell shook his head and chuckled.

    ¡°If you say so.¡±

    ***

    On first watch, Lethelin made another circuit around the camp as the others slept. They¡¯d pushed hard today and she knew if she tried to sit by the fire she would likely pass out so moving was her best option. She stayed well back from the fire to keep her night vision as much as she could and tried not to look back towards where Mitchell and Allora slept, keeping her eyes outward. She also had her cowl up and she walked with slow, measured steps to maximize its effectiveness.

    The cloak had cost Lethelin nearly a hundred gold crowns, the better part of a year¡¯s worth of thieving and saving, but she had never once regretted its purchase. It had saved her life more than once in the two years since she¡¯d purchased it and it set her apart from many of the other small time thieves in Varset. It opened up a lot of opportunities for her along with access to higher profile jobs because she could avoid being seen almost at will. The cloak combined with her talent meant she could remain undetected in almost any situation as long as she was careful. A wise investment indeed.

    Cool wind gusted through the trees and she could hear the faint sound of the water about twenty or thirty meters from their camp. It felt so good to be home again. Trekking through the desert all those days, avoiding scorpions, clorvols, and packs of dakas had not been easy. It had taken all of her remaining coin to buy the potions that would mask her scent and give her the greatest chance of survival. But Lethelin knew that if she didn¡¯t catch Ivaran on his overland trip it would be much harder once they got back to Awenor with their prisoners. It had been all or nothing, as far as she was concerned. One of them wouldn¡¯t leave the desert alive. But nine hells, how she¡¯d hated the heat. Being back in Awenor now was enough to almost make her cry. Even if she was not cutting through the Shadow Glen.

    Lethelin wasn¡¯t expecting to run across any patrols in this part of the country. There was nothing here to patrol for and the mercenary forces were nothing if not lazy opportunists. They wouldn¡¯t be scouring the countryside in hopes of finding bandits, thieves, or smugglers, so that cut down the risk substantially until they got closer to a town. What she had to worry about were more of the beasts of the forest than other people. There were no spiders in this part of the wood, according to Allora, not the dangerous kind, anyway. The ones that could pluck a man up from a path and have him webbed before he could scream. And they hadn¡¯t seen any signs of trolls, either. They tended to range farther inward. There were the giant toads to worry about but as long as she kept hold of her blade she should be able to stab her way free if one of them approached the camp. Plus they weren¡¯t exactly quiet.

    Lethelin¡¯s silent circling of the camp brought her to the river-side of the fire and the thief noticed something she hadn¡¯t before. Vras was missing. The furry little bag of chum normally kept close to Mitchell when it slept, having slowly gotten more comfortable with their day/night sleeping schedule. But as she scanned the shadows around Mitchell¡¯s body the beast was nowhere to be seen.

    ¡°Where did you run off to, you little hell spawn?¡± Lethelin whispered into the darkness.

    She began to scan the trees as if she had any hope of spotting a black shadow cat among the deep shadows of a Shadow Glen night. The speed and silence that it had moved today as it explored the canopy had been terrifying. Lethelin prided herself on her ability to move quietly but watching Vras slink over branches above their head showed her to be a rank amateur. And it was a baby! Allora said probably less than a year old.

    ¡°Cursed thing is probably up there right now, waiting to drop down and kill me and then tell Mitchell some forest creature did it!¡± Lethelin swore to herself and suddenly felt jumpy. Her arms broke out in goose flesh that had nothing to do with the cool air blowing off the river behind her.

    Lethelin turned away from the camp then preparing to continue her patrols when she heard a sound to her right, from the direction of the river. Her head turned and she peered once again into the impenetrable darkness. In the distance she could see the water glinting from the glow of Ithstasy which was just beginning to traverse the sky but between there and here it was mostly shadow. The canopy was thick and little light broke through the tree cover. She went still, quieted her breathing, and tried to listen. Her eyes were near useless in these conditions but her ears were just fine.

    Then she heard it again. It was almost like¡­ Almost like the sound of a blade being drawn over a leather strop. Mira was in her hand in an instant and she readied her smaller dagger in her off hand.

    ¡°Could be nothing,¡± Lethelin told herself. ¡°There shouldn¡¯t be anything big enough in this part of the forest to threaten us. No need to wake the others for nothing.¡±

    The last thing Lethelin needed was Allora teasing her for getting jumpy in the dark. And she would, too. In fairness, she teased the elf relentlessly but it was for her own good in Lethelin¡¯s mind. The little princess was far too uptight. She¡ª

    There it was again.

    Lethelin was just about to wake the others, she didn¡¯t care about being teased now, when her eyes caught a glint not two meters in front of her. Two specs of yellow just above the ground reflecting a small bit of light from the dying fire. Eyes!

    Before Lethelin could call out for help the eyes exploded from the shadows and resolved into a mouth big enough to swallow Lethelin¡¯s head hole. Time seemed to slow down as fangs extended from the top of the beast¡¯s mouth, each one as long as her finger and already dripping with venom. Lethelin drew in a breath to scream but knew it was already too late.

    Just then, a patch of night darker than the shadows around it flashed in front of Lethelin and landed solidly on the attacking creature¡¯s neck. Lethelin fell back on her ass, breath to scream trapped in her paralyzed throat, and could just make out the shape of a very large snake with a body easily as thick as her waist, twisting and coiling itself on the ground in front of her. On its back, with jaws locked onto the rear of its neck, was a beast as black as a gretch shark¡¯s heart. It rolled with the giant snake, a fierce growl rumbling from its chest as the snake hissed and spun.

    Lethelin caught sight of demonic green eyes flashing in the darkness, alight with an almost gleeful joy. Its head was twisted sideways as it tried to keep all six sets of claws locked into the hide of the snake while it thrashed. The animal brought its serpentine body around and tried to encircle its attacker but the beast seemed to anticipate the move. As a coil tried to descend upon its body, the black void broke free with it¡¯s claws and jumped to the side, never loosening its jaws that clamped just behind the snake¡¯s head. Once the coil slid away, it retook its position and claws sank effortlessly into scales once again. Only this time, the six legs began carving into the flesh of the snake. Long rents were torn into its thick hide and the blackness began to shake violently from side to side.

    The snake began to slow, its movements becoming less insistent as its blood soaked the loamy earth and churned it into a foul mud. With a final violent shake, Lethelin heard the sounds of bones snap. The serpent¡¯s body went stiff and then began to tremble all up and down its length before finally settling to the ground, still.

    In the suddenly silence all Lethelin could hear was the low growl of the shadow cat as it sat perched atop its kill, accentuated by a harsh panting sound as it labored for breath, and her own strangled fight for air. As if for good measure, the shadow cat shook its head one more time but the snake was limp and lifeless.

    Lethelin watched as, almost reluctantly, Vras opened his blood-soaked jaws and brought its eyes to hers. It stared into her and Lethelin thought it was looking into her soul. Eyes far too smart for a mere animal watched her. Studied her. Its long pink tongue came out and licked the blood off of its maw. His pearl white fangs were tinged a gory red. Lethelin saw it shudder in undeniable pleasure as it savored the taste of blood. Yet its eyes did not leave hers.

    Lethelin knew then that Vras was deciding whether to kill her or not. She couldn¡¯t say how she knew but there was something about the battle lust in the beast¡¯s otherworldly gaze that said it was weighing the worth of her life. As if to confirm her suspicions, Vras¡¯s eyes flicked behind her to where Mitchell lay sleeping, and then back to her. Lethelin dared not move. Her heart was beating so hard in her chest that she actually feared it would burst. Her breath was coming in pants as she stared her own end in the face.

    Vras moved then, silent as death itself, and twice as merciless as it slowly approached her. It stopped about a meter away and its tentacles suddenly took up position just above its head, and they spread open to their full width. The beast¡¯s brow furrowed in concentration and small lights began to shimmer within the opened palms of each tentacle. The air between Lethelin and the cat shimmered as Vras attempted to create the illusion he wanted. Lethelin saw a vague outline begin to form, about equal in height to her seated form and roughly humanoid shape, but without distinct features. Vras hissed in obvious frustration as the illusion winked out, then he tried again.

    Over the next minute or so, Vras worked at his illusion until Lethelin finally saw what he was trying to show her. It was Mitchell, but he was not alone. Next to him in the vision was a smaller humanoid with less distinct features than Mitchell himself, except for one detail. Red hair. Mitchell¡¯s arm was around her and he was looking down at her. Lethelin could just detect what she thought was a smile on his slightly indistinct face as he watched the illusion of herself that Vras had tried to create.

    Vras had been studying her the whole time as he tried to form the image and when he saw comprehension on her features he dropped the effect instantly and his body drooped, as if it had cost him a significant amount of energy to maintain the effect.

    Lethelin¡¯s breathing had slowed somewhat but she was still drenched in sweat, and no doubt reeking of fear. But Vras only watched her now. Waiting.

    ¡°You saved my life,¡± she said, finding it hard to speak. Nine hells, she felt like she was going to pass out.

    Vras flicked his tail languidly from side to side and he blinked slowly.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he seemed to be saying to Lethelin.

    ¡°Because of¡­¡± Lethelin took a deep breath trying to slow her heart and unclench her chest. ¡°Because I¡¯m important to Mitchell.¡±

    Another slow tail flick. Yes.

    His eyes flicked to where Lethelin still held Mira in her hand and he growled softly and showed his fangs.

    Lethelin understood then. She swallowed to try and work some moisture back in her throat. She needed water. Sweet fucking sun, she needed a bottle of orcish ale.

    She nodded then, not breaking eye contact with the shadow cat.

    ¡°I understand. Th¡ª¡± Lethelin paused again and took a deep breath. ¡°Thank you. Thank you for saving my life. I¡­ I owe you a debt.¡±

    One final tail flick. Then Vras turned and went back to his kill. Lethelin saw that he was favoring one side. He¡¯d been injured in the struggle. His middle leg on his right side was putting almost no pressure on the ground. It wasn¡¯t quite a limp because he still had five others, but she could see how it threw off the normally fluid way he usually walked.

    ¡°Balls and fucking taint,¡± Lethelin grumbled to herself as she got to her feet. As she watched, Vras grabbed the snake by the back of the head again and began to drag it off. It was slow going as the thing was heavy and he was down a leg, but the shadow cat didn¡¯t let that stop him. With several growls and a lot of yanking, it pulled it off into the night where, Lethelin assumed, he would snack on it for a while.

    ¡°Balls and bloody fucking taint,¡± she swore again as they disappeared into the blackness.

 Chapter 56

    ¡°We are in luck,¡± Allora said as she eyed the town from the tree line. ¡°That is indeed Clayfaire. I know where we are and I know where we need to go.¡±

    ¡°Do you want to enter the town first?¡± Mitchell asked from behind her shoulder, as the dawn light began to dispel shadows around the mostly wooden buildings. It looked to be a decent size, maybe a few hundred people housed within its walls. He couldn¡¯t help but eye it suspiciously as he had been told to expect danger at any moment and from any direction.

    ¡°No, not until I speak with Gilriel. I need to know what has been happening while I have been away.¡±

    ¡°So how far to the grove?¡± Lethelin asked.

    ¡°If we push hard, I think we can make it by noon tomorrow.¡±

    Mitchell adjusted the pack on his shoulders and took a deep breath.

    ¡°Alright then,¡± he said, feeling an eagerness to finally be done with their journey. ¡°One foot.¡±

    ¡°One foot,¡± Allora repeated as she smiled up at him.

    They stayed within the tree line as they circled the clearing around the town, and, this early, there was no traffic on the few roads they crossed before heading straight into the forest nor were there any paths.

    ¡°Gilriel¡¯s grove is warded against detection. She worked very hard to keep it hidden from wanderers and hunters and to block it from those that would scry for her. People who get too close are guided around it without ever realizing the fact. It is a brilliant bit of spell craft. She said it took her nearly a decade to perfect.¡±

    ¡°You said she was a knight,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°Is she hiding from Milandris, too?¡±

    Allora wobbled her head.

    ¡°No,¡± the knight explained. ¡°She left Lorivin around the time Baylor became king, almost eighty years ago. The world has forgotten about her.¡±

    ¡°I thought knights never left the service?¡± Lethelin asked, intrigued.

    ¡°There is no rule against it. We are not slaves, but few ever do. Most view it as a calling and stay in the order until their death.¡±

    ¡°So, what happened?¡± Mitchell asked.

    ¡°I do not know. She would not speak of it to me. But I sensed whatever it was, she still carries the pain with her.¡±

    ¡°How did you find her if she¡¯s been hidden for almost eighty years?¡± Lethelin asked.

    Mitchell looked at her and saw she was walking in pace with him and on the other side of Vras. It was a behavior he¡¯d noticed more than once over the last three days since they¡¯d entered the Shadow Glen. The comely assassin didn¡¯t seem to dread the shadow cat¡¯s very presence anymore. Mitchell reminded himself to ask her about it when next they stopped.

    ¡°I heard rumors,¡± Allora said in answer, ¡°of an old elven mystic who lived in the Shadow Glen. She would emerge from the forest once every decade or so, visit a town to buy supplies, and then vanish back the way she had come. Over the years a legend had sprung up and word spread about how people would scour the forest for a day in every direction and never find a trace of her. I felt that she could help me if I could but find her.¡±

    ¡°How did you know? She could have been some crazy woman, or not even real at all!¡± Lethelin exclaimed.

    ¡°The same way Mitchell knew to take Vras with us,¡± Allora replied. ¡°I felt that she would be the one to teach me the ritual so that I could find the next monarch.¡±

    Lethelin looked at Mitchell and then at Vras and mumbled something under her breath. Mitchell only caught the word for ¡®crazy¡¯ and shook his head slightly in amusement.

    ¡°But if it was warded, how did you find it?¡± Mitchell asked, trying to get conversation back on topic.

    ¡°I did not. Not exactly. She found me.¡±

    There was a small break in the conversation as the group made their way around a large fallen tree before resuming their walk southwest.

    ¡°I traveled to each of the towns she was said to have visited and was able to triangulate where I thought she might be. It took several weeks of walking back and forth across the forest before I noticed the effects of the spell.¡±

    ¡°How did you notice it?¡± Lethelin pressed. ¡°You said people couldn¡¯t tell they were being directed away.¡±

    ¡°I could not, but on one crossing I noticed my old tracks. They curved in a wide circle whenever I approached a certain area of the forest. But it felt to me like I was walking in a straight line. Once I saw the effect, I tried to correct it but every time I thought I had succeeded I would check my tracks and see that my efforts failed.¡±

    ¡°What did you do?¡± Mitchell asked, genuinely curious.

    ¡°I began to shoot arrows through the wards with notes attached.¡±

    ¡°They were able to pass through?¡± Lethelin said. ¡°I thought you said you couldn¡¯t enter.¡±

    Allora looked across as Lethelin with a curious expression.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    ¡°I would expect you of all people to understand how attention wards work.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Your cloak.¡±

    Allora tipped her head to indicate the cloak that was tided loosely around the thief¡¯s neck and which had changed colors, much to Mitchell¡¯s surprise, upon entering the forest.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t enchant the thing myself; I paid a small fortune to have someone else do that. I don¡¯t know how it works; I just know that it does.¡±

    Allora rolled her eyes.

    ¡°When you activate the cloak¡¯s enchantments you don¡¯t really become invisible. They work on the target¡¯s perception. Actually, diverting the light around you would be much more difficult. Attention wards are far simpler. They make it so the person can¡¯t actually look at you, even if they think they are. They will think they are looking right at the spot you are sitting or standing but instead their eyes are off to the side and attention wards distract them before they can think about it too hard. You did not know this?¡±

    Lethelin shrugged.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask. I just told the enchanter what I wanted and he said to come back in a month.¡±

    It was Allora¡¯s turn to shake her head.

    ¡°Be that as it may, the protections around Gilriel¡¯s grove worked much the same way. It was not a physical barrier, but a ring of interlocking ward posts and stones that created a sort of net around the area she wished to secure. And, just as your enchantments do not work on animals, nor do the ones surrounding her grove. Animals could pass freely in and out.¡±

    ¡°That sounds amazing. And difficult,¡± Mitchell spoke up then.

    ¡°It is. The perception field she has crafted is a master-level of enchantment and warding. As I said, it took her many years to complete. But once I realized where the boundary was, I spent the next day writing small notes and affixing them to my arrows and firing them into the grove from all around the border. I told her who I was, why I was there, and where I would wait to meet her. Then I waited.¡±

    ¡°How long?¡± Lethelin asked.

    ¡°Nearly a ten day. I suspect she was watching me long before I knew she was there. But then she appeared one morning with breakfast and we talked. She agreed to guide me into her grove and she taught me what I needed to know.¡±

    ¡°So, she did know the ritual?¡± Mitchell asked.

    Allora nodded.

    ¡°Gilriel was third in command of the Onyx Knights when she left Lorivin. One of the eight trusted with the knowledge of the ritual. It is meant to be cast with a minimum of four but, after some trial and error, we found a way to cast it with just the two of us.¡±

    ¡°And then you found Mitchell?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Allora said, after a second too long in answering. ¡°That is how I found Mitchell.¡±

    Mitchell didn¡¯t think Lethelin picked up on the hesitation, or the way she subtly changed the answer, but he did. There was something that Allora wasn¡¯t saying.

    ¡°Can¡¯t wait to meet her,¡± Mitchell said.

    Allora gave him a smile but there was a tightness around her eyes.

    ¡°It will be good to rest there for a few days. It is a beautiful place.¡±

    ***

    ¡°What changed your mind about Vras?¡± Mitchell asked he sat with Lethelin for a bit before her watch started. Allora was already curled in her bedding, breathing deeply.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Mitchell could see her try to hide the sudden panicked look in her eyes but all it did was tell him his instincts were right.

    ¡°You¡¯re acting differently around him. You have been for the last few days. And tonight, you offered him some of your meal without complaint or any jumping around or screaming. I just wondered what brought you around.¡±

    Lethelin looked over to where Vras was dozing and basking in the warmth coming off their small fire.

    ¡°He and I came to an understanding,¡± she said at last. Her voice was slow and is sounded like she was weighing each word carefully. ¡°That first night in the forest.¡±

    ¡°But you don¡¯t want to tell me about it?¡±

    Lethelin¡¯s green eyes studied him across the fire.

    ¡°I will if you order me to. But¡­ I would rather not.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t do that,¡± he told her solemnly. ¡°I trust that you would tell me if I needed to know.¡±

    Lethelin released some of the tension she was holding in her shoulders and gave him a grateful smile.

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°But, does it have something to do with how he got the limp?¡±

    Lethelin winced.

    ¡°I hoped you wouldn¡¯t notice that.¡±

    Mitchell arched an eyebrow at her and waited.

    ¡°Did you ask him about it?¡±

    ¡°I did,¡± Mitchell replied. ¡°But he would only tell me he got it when he was playing.¡±

    For reasons Mitchell didn¡¯t understand, what little color Lethelin had in in her pale face drained away and he thought he saw her chest shudder as she drew in a breath.

    Finally, she said, ¡°He called it playing?¡±

    Mitchell nodded.

    ¡°Balls and taint,¡± she muttered under her breath. ¡°Playing!¡±

    She caught herself then and smiled somewhat apologetically.

    ¡°I¡¯ll just say I trust him a little more than I did since we found him in the mountains.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough.¡±

    Mitchell stood and crossed over to her side of the fire and pulled her into him. She came without resistance and he kissed the top of her head. They sat like that for a moment, enjoying the night sounds of the forest and the crackle of the wood in the fire. Mitchell couldn¡¯t place exactly when it had happened but it didn¡¯t feel as foreboding as it had when they¡¯d first entered. Whereas before the forest felt like it opposed their presence, that it wanted them out, now it felt¡­ Mitchell wasn¡¯t quite sure. He still didn¡¯t feel welcome. It felt more like a grudging acceptance. An I¡¯ve-got-my-eye-on-you sort of pressure as they walked.

    ¡°If you¡¯d like, I¡¯ve got a new song I can sing you before you take your watch.¡±

    ¡°I would,¡± she told him. ¡°I like your voice. Even when I don¡¯t understand the words, it makes me feel warm inside. My father¡­¡±

    Lethelin paused then and Mitchell¡¯s ears perked up. Lethelin rarely spoke of her mother or her father. She talked all about her life in Varset, some of her misadventures with the gangs she worked for, and heists she pulled off, but of her parents barely a word was ever said. Mitchell waited.

    ¡°I remember my father used to sing to my mother. When I was little. Old songs the fishermen sang at the docks, tavern songs. He even learned a love song in Elvish for her. I don¡¯t remember it, but my mother hummed it often when she worked around her shop.¡±

    ¡°It sounds like music was a part of your childhood, too.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I guess so. I never really thought about it until you started singing all the time. At first, I thought you had sun sickness, but something about it was comforting. It just took me awhile to figure it out.

    Lethelin placed the top of her head in that pocket of his neck between his shoulder and jaw. It fit so perfectly it was like it was always supposed to be there.

    ¡°What¡¯s the new song about?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a bit of a sad one,¡± Mitchell explained. ¡°It¡¯s about a man who lost his love and felt like he was nothing without it.¡±

    ¡°Why did he lose her?¡±

    ¡°They had a fight and they said things they couldn¡¯t take back. But once she was gone, he realized what he had truly lost.¡±

    ¡°Do you feel that way about what you lost when you came to Tewadunn?¡±

    ¡°Not like that, no. I miss home but I think I could be happy here, too ¨C if we survive. But if I ever lost you or Lora, yes, I think I would feel like I was nothing without you both.¡±

    Lethelin sat up at that and began to search his face. He watched the crystal green of her eyes as they glittered in the firelight. Then she leaned up and kissed him. It was a slow, soft kiss.

    Her lips were warm and their tongues delicately probed at each other. He could taste the bit of wine that they¡¯d indulged in with their dinner still on her lips.

    Mitchell broke away first and kissed her each cheek and then her head. She gave him a smile and tucked her head back into his shoulder.

    ¡°This song is called Nothingman by Pearl Jam.¡±

 Chapter 57

    ¡°This is it,¡± Allora said as they rounded a bend in the stream they had been following for the better part of two hours. The sun was approaching mid-morning and the light flickered through the heavy canopy, dappling everything around them. The cool sound of the water rushing, the smell of earth and plant, the cool wind rustling the leaves, made it all feel like some sort of nature scene that would play over one of those relaxation music videos Mitchell used to have going in the background while he was working. He half expected some lo-fi track to start playing as he looked around.

    ¡°Wait just a moment,¡± Allora requested as she scouted the stream for a shallow place to cross.

    Finding one, Mitchell and Lethelin waited as the knight picked a section and waded across. She approached a large tree that was growing out of a bank on the opposite side. Once there, she leaned down, shifted a rock about the size of a man¡¯s head where it lay nestled between some roots and stuck her hand into the recess beneath it. Standing up, Mitchell saw she held a small piece of jewelry. Smiling in triumph, she stepped her way back across to them.

    Before she could speak, there was a loud splash behind them and they all jumped and turned, only to see Vras emerge from a deep pool with a decent-sized fish in his mouth, still wiggling. Mitchell watched in surprise as the water streamed off his fur while the shadow cat strode back to the bank where he plopped down to enjoy his meal. He looked almost completely dry. His fur repelled water almost the same way a duck¡¯s feathers did.

    ¡°You can swim?¡± Mitchell asked the beast as it tore into its snack as if he hadn¡¯t just eaten a few hours ago.

    Vras paused only briefly, glanced at Mitchell, and flicked his ears. Then resumed his chewing. This was a gesture Mitchell had come to recognize as, ¡°Of course, don¡¯t be stupid.¡±

    ¡°He can swim, I guess,¡± Mitchell said, shaking his head. ¡°And he doesn¡¯t get wet.¡±

    ¡°So that¡¯s the thing,¡± Lethelin inquired, turning her attention back to the item in Allora¡¯s hand.

    ¡°Yes,¡± she answered. She opened her hand fully and Mitchell could see it was actually a small pendant with a blue stone in the center attached to a simple silver chain. ¡°This will prevent me from being distracted by the wards. I will put it on when we approach the boundary. You will need to hold my hands as we walk. And maybe close your eyes. The effect can be disorienting if you see where you are going. The warded area is about thirty meters before the effect ends and then we can continue as normal.¡±

    ¡°As my lady commands,¡± Lethelin said.

    ¡°Lead the way,¡± Mitchell told her.

    He turned back to where Vras was still consuming the fish.

    ¡°Catch up when you¡¯re done.¡±

    Ear flick.

    Mitchell chuckled and they pushed onward.

    Allora turned due east from the tree and began to walk in a straight line. After about fifteen minutes, by which time Vras had caught up to them looking very pleased with himself, Allora called for a halt. She stared straight ahead into a section of forest that, as near as Mitchell could tell, was no different than any other.

    ¡°This is the boundary.¡±

    Lethelin glanced around appeared unconvinced.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like one.¡±

    ¡°It is not supposed to look like one. But try to walk forward.¡±

    Lethelin shrugged and started to walk straight ahead. To Mitchell¡¯s amazement she began to angle left about one meter in front of Allora. Every step with her left foot moved her just a little bit farther along a gradual curve that Mitchell wasn¡¯t sure he would have noticed had he not been watching her so closely.

    The thief walked forward and to the left for what Mitchell guessed was about ten meters and which actually placed her well to the side of where he and Allora stood staring.

    ¡°I don¡¯t feel anything," Lethelin called out and then turned to look back at them. Only they weren¡¯t where she thought they were. Her wide eyes found them immediately and she gaped.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s balls,¡± she muttered. ¡°It felt like I was walking straight ahead. I thought I was placing each foot firmly in front of the other one. I even picked a tree to walk towards!¡±

    ¡°As I told you,¡± Allora said with a grin, ¡°It is a master-level bit of spell craft. She tried to explain it to me during my stay here last time but it is far beyond my capabilities. I am a battle caster, primarily. That is what I chose to focus on. I know a few pure utility spells as they were required, but I did not proceed much beyond that.¡±

    ¡°Balls,¡± Lethelin said in wonder as she walked back to them. ¡°I mean, I know you said what it did but I thought I would feel something.¡±

    ¡°Even when you know it is there, you cannot avoid it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m ready when you are,¡± Mitchell said, handing Tammi¡¯s lead to Lethelin so he could free up his other hand to hold Allora¡¯s.

    Allora unspooled the pendant and placed the chain around her neck, pulling her hair through so it rested comfortably against her skin. She held out a hand to both of them and, all together, they walked across the barrier.

    ***

    ¡°Lora!¡± the middle-aged elf called out as she saw them break the tree line and into the clearing surrounding a cottage that could have been painted by Thomas Kincaid. It was a somewhat squat building with a pitched roof that had actual grass growing on it. Mitchell could see several varieties of flowers sprouting. The pitch continued all the way to the ground on both sides and it resembled the sort of low A-Frame house that had become popular in the US in the post-war area. Creeper vines crawled up every vertical surface. Flowers were in bloom all around the cottage and he could see a well-tended garden on the side with a simple fence around it. Behind the house he could also see a shed, an outhouse, and what looked like some sort of coop. There was also a stream cutting through the clearing behind the cottage that reentered the tree line not too far past the animal enclosure. The thick loamy smell of the old forest was replaced by grass, tilled earth, and something that smelled suspiciously like honeysuckle.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    At the sight of the older elf, Allora released Mitchell¡¯s hand and sprinted forward arms out and embraced their host.

    ¡°I knew you would be back,¡± Gilriel said as she returned Allora¡¯s hug. ¡°Fairy wings were blooming at the shrine this morning when I made my devotionals to Vish.¡±

    Gilriel squeezed Allora tightly who squeezed her right back.

    The former Onyx Knight was, despite her advanced years, still lean and barely looked over forty as near as Mitchell could tell. She had silver-blond hair that she had cut short at her shoulders and which flowed freely in the light morning breeze. She was wearing a simple farm dress tied tight around her thin waist and she had a similar bust size to Allora, a fact apparent even with the loose-fitting attire. She was also wearing a krisa with four stones in it, not unlike Allora¡¯s own.

    Even from five or six meters away where Allora had left him to dash to their host, he could see shockingly blue eyes. As Gilriel hugged her, Mitchell saw the older elf take in both he and Lethelin in quick appraisal and he got the sense right away that she was much more than the wise aunt or motherly figure that she appeared to be. Mitchell couldn¡¯t help thinking she looked like Heather Locklear circa the early 2000s. Getting older, but still a knock out. Granted, she looked to have several inches on the actress and there were also those pointed elf ears, but she could have passed for a sister easily.

    ¡°Balls,¡± Lethelin whispered as they closed the distance. ¡°And here I thought Allora was beautiful.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Mitchell agreed.

    ¡°Let me have a good look at you,¡± Gilriel said with a smile as they broke apart. ¡°It¡¯s been months.¡±

    Allora sniffled as she took a step back.

    ¡°I missed you so much,¡± Allora said as she wiped away a tear. ¡°Much has happened.¡±

    She gave Allora a once over, noting the travel worn clothes and general condition of their supplies, then took in Allora¡¯s two traveling companions and the yulops that had already begun gorging themselves on the thick grass growing in the clearing.

    ¡°No doubt,¡± Gilriel replied with a nod. ¡°Who are your friends?¡±

    Allora turned and gestured them to come closer. She was smiling so hard Mitchell thought her face might crack. Seeing her so happy brought a grin to his face as well.

    ¡°Gilriel, this is Mitchell Allen of Earth. And this is Lethelin Ne Forlia of Varset.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you,¡± Mitchell said and extended a hand before remembering that people here didn¡¯t do that. He chuckled and pulled his head back, giving her a slight bow instead. She grinned at him before returning the nod and then turned her eyes to Lethelin. Mitchell saw her eyes once again move over the thief, pausing at the cloak for a long moment and then taking in the rest of her more thoroughly, her gaze lingering a few seconds longer at the sight of Mitchell and Lethelin¡¯s hands still clasped together.

    Lethelin noticed the scrutiny as well and shifted her feet a little uncomfortably under the woman¡¯s penetrating gaze. She pulled her hand free gently and folded them meekly in front of herself.

    ¡°Greetings, Lady Gilriel,¡± Lethelin said, her voice somewhat timid and she bowed low. ¡°It is an honor to be welcomed to your home. May Stollar¡¯s blessings be generous and may your days under his guiding light be long.¡±

    Allora gaped at the thief.

    Mitchell was far enough along with his knowledge of Common by this point that he had no trouble at all picking up the formality with which Lethelin addressed Gilriel. He could understand Allora¡¯s reaction. She had never spoken in such a manner that he could recall. Even in Besari when haggling with an actual priestess of Stollar she¡¯d been her usual fouth-mouthed self. Mitchell still had no idea what a horker was but the priestess had not enjoyed being told her mother had bed one of their breeders.

    As for Gilriel, she arched a silver-blonde eyebrow and grinned.

    ¡°One would not expect such a formal greeting from a thief from Varset.¡±

    Lethelin¡¯s cheeks heated.

    ¡°How did you know?¡± she stammered, her eyes wide.

    In answer Gilriel reached out a slender finger and plucked at the forest-green cloak that hung lightly on Lethelin¡¯s shoulders.

    ¡°Milkmaids and tavern wenches don¡¯t wear items like this,¡± she said with a smirk. ¡°It is quality work. You must be a very good thief.¡±

    ¡°Yes, m¡¯lady,¡± Lethelin said, sheepishly and looked at the ground. There was none of the snark in the title as there was when she addressed Allora with it. ¡°I am regarded by some as a good thief.¡±

    ¡°Who are you and what have you done with the foul-mouthed cut purse that swears like an orcish brothel mistress?¡± Allora demanded.

    ¡°Just because I don¡¯t kiss that prissy rump of yours just for breathing doesn¡¯t mean I don¡¯t have manners!¡± Lethelin snapped back, clearly not enjoying being addressed in such a way in front of their host. ¡°My mother hired some of the best tutors in Varset for me. I can speak just as proper as you if I want to.¡±

    ¡°As properly,¡± Allora corrected with a sniff.

    Lethelin visibly bristled.

    ¡°How about I kick you in that prissy rump, instead? Would that be more to m¡¯lady¡¯s taste?¡±

    ¡°I think I would enjoy seeing you walk around with a peg leg after I cut off the offending foot,¡± Allora said with an edge to her voice. ¡°Then you would fit right in with the other drunken sailors that come crawling into port.¡±

    Mitchell rolled his eyes as the two sniped at each other and noticed that Gilriel had crossed her arms and was watching the two women bicker with a mixture of amusement and consternation.

    ¡°Are they always like this?¡± she said to Mitchell as she moved to stand beside him. She smelled like mint.

    ¡°Kind of,¡± Mitchell said while shaking his head. ¡°It¡¯s been a long journey to get here. We¡¯re all exhausted and a little on edge.¡±

    ¡°So it would seem,¡± the older woman said and turned her attention back to the bickering loves of Mitchell¡¯s life.

    ¡°As if you could catch me with that barge pole lodged so far up your ass!¡± Lethelin scoffed. ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t know how you can even bend over to lace up your boots. The splinters must be a nightmare!¡±

    ¡°I--!¡±

    Mitchell caught a glimpse of a sparkle in one of Gilriel¡¯s gemstones and suddenly, both girls yelped and jumped about a foot in the air and started rubbing their backsides furiously. Mitchell had to admit, he thoroughly enjoyed watching the display.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s cock, that hurt!¡± Lethelin swore as she sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.

    ¡°Ladies, that is quite enough!¡± Gilriel snapped with an undeniable air of authority.

    Her tone was enough to send Mitchell right back to Mrs. Kimble¡¯s fifth grade class at Horace Mann Elementary School. He had an almost irresistible urge to fold his hands in front of himself and place them on a desk. And she wasn¡¯t even directing her ire at him!

    ¡°If you can¡¯t control yourselves while a guest in my home, I have a garden that needs weeding, an athi coup that needs cleaning, wood that needs chopping, and a space to be cleared for a new root cellar. And if you still haven¡¯t learned your manners, I have found over the years that a few hours jogging around the grove with a weighted sack to be an excellent way to burn off excess energy. What will it be?¡±

    Gilriel glared at the two of them, her ice blue eyes glinting dangerously.

    Allora bowed low first and Lethelin quickly followed suit, both looking suitably chastened at their dressing down by the older woman.

    ¡°Apologies, Gilriel. Of course you are right.¡±

    ¡°My apologies as well, Lady Gilriel,¡± Lethelin added meekly. ¡°It won¡¯t happen again.¡±

    Allora¡¯s eyes flicked to Lethelin and a small frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. Then, addressing Gilriel once more, she said, ¡°Agreed. It will not happen again.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Gilriel said with a clipped tone. ¡°There is fresh water in the barrel next to the garden. Or you may make use of the stream. Get cleaned up and we will have lunch. I have prepared some fruit, bread, and cheese, and I have a bottle of mountain berry wine chilling as well.¡±

    Neither of the girls moved, both looking afraid to be the first to do so.

    ¡°Move!¡± Gilriel barked.

    Lethelin and Allora both hopped as if she¡¯d stuck them with a hot poker and began power walking around the side of the cottage looking for the wash barrel. Lethelin was doing her best to match the taller elf¡¯s stride without actually running.

    ¡°You need to teach me how to do that,¡± Mitchell said with a chuckle as the girls rounded the house and went out of sight.

    Gilriel placed her arm in his as they followed at a more leisurely pace.

    ¡°Spend a few decades training new initiates and it becomes like second nature.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡±

    ¡°Come. You can tell me of your travels while I prepare the table. They will be a few minutes in washing up, then you can do the same.¡±

 Chapter 58

    Once everyone was washed and feeling refreshed, things settled down. The only bit of excitement left was introducing Vras to the situation. They had opted to leave him in the forest until they could broach the subject with Gilriel as she would likely try to kill him on sight if he simply wondered into the clearing around her cottage. There was much swearing and it took several minutes to convince her not to end the beast the moment he put a paw into view. Upon hearing his name Gilriel also uttered a string of invective that even caused Lethelin to raise her eyebrows in appreciation.

    ¡°Vras? Really?¡± Gilriel had demanded of Allora. As if shadow cats weren¡¯t terrifying enough? You named him that?¡±

    ¡°It is appropriate,¡± Allora said, somehow managing to sound both deferential and firm at the same time. ¡°And, as I said, I have reason to believe that Vish placed him in our path.¡±

    Gilriel snorted.

    ¡°Nine hells, Allora! I thought you had more sense than that!¡±

    ¡°If I may,¡± Mitchell interjected, not appreciating the dressing down that Gilriel was directing at his companion. He found he had to resist the urge to shrink back when the old drill sergeant turned her steely gaze at him. He firmed his spine against the pressure of her glare. ¡°The choice was mine. It was important to me that Allora agree with me about bringing him along, but I would have done it against her wishes if it had been necessary. So, if you want to be angry at someone, it should be me.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t expect you to know the dangers of this world the way she does. Allora should have¡ª¡±

    ¡°Allora has pledged herself to my service,¡± Mitchell cut her off and allowed a little steel to come into his voice as well. He was also attempting to mimic the formal style that Allora almost always used. It seemed to carry more authority when one spoke it here. ¡°And, while I value her council in all things, ultimately the decision is mine. Would you command an Onyx Knight to disobey her monarch?¡±

    Gilriel¡¯s eyes narrowed as she recognized the trap. She turned her gaze back to Allora, who watched mutely, eyes slightly widened at the battle of wills between the woman who she had come to love and respect as both a mother-figure and a mentor, and her monarch. Seeing the slightly accusatory glare from her mentor, Allora firmed her lips and returned the look, though without the matching heat.

    Gilriel sniffed.

    ¡°You are not monarch yet,¡± she said finally but a lot of the force had gone out of her words.

    ¡°True, but it would set a bad precedent, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    Gilriel drummed her fingers on the study farm table that took up a large space in the common area of her cottage. The wood was thick, scarred from decades of use, but clean and sturdily built.

    ¡°You are correct,¡± she said at last with a huff. ¡°My apologies. It is just¡­ A shadow cat?¡±

    Suddenly the woman stood up and began to hike up her dress. Before anyone could say anything, she had lifted her leg and placed it on an empty chair and exposed her outer right thigh. Despite being well north of one hundred, it was as shapely and toned a leg as Allora¡¯s. Except for the wounds.

    Mitchell saw three long scars that began just above her knee and traveled up past where she bunched up the dress around her waist. She made sure all of them had a good look. The scars were old but he could see they had been deep and would have been a grisly wound.

    ¡°Ten of us went into the Peaks on patrol,¡± she said, her voice hard. ¡°Six knights and four mountain rangers. Only three of us returned. One shadow cat killed seven. Salaya, my sister knight, lost her arm, and the surviving ranger, a good man named Finnik, who had a family, was blinded in one eye, had his face slashed open and was never able to eat or drink again without drooling, and walked with a cane for the rest of his life. Four fully trained knights, and three mountain rangers. Lives gone in moments. From a single shadow cat. It got past our perimeter and killed two before we even knew it was there. That is the horror that you travel with, young monarch. The gods help you all if it ever goes wild.¡±

    Mitchell swallowed but her display did not shake his resolve.

    ¡°Vras says he views me as something called a tar s¡¯thyr. A human pack leader.¡±

    Gilriel¡¯s eyes flicked to Allora.

    ¡°Your translation, I take it?¡±

    ¡°Yes, as near as I could recall. I was not the most diligent in my most of my studies. I settled for getting a working understanding of the old Dwarvish, Hillspeak, and Gnomish, but Waivian seemed of little use since we so rarely had dealings with the Fey.¡±

    ¡°It is close enough. But a more accurate translation would be mortal hunt leader. Shadow cats don¡¯t have packs but they will gather for a hunt from time to time. Tar is more a general term for a mortal race as opposed to Waia which is the Waivian word for immortal. They are from the Fey lands, after all. But once the hunt is finished shadow cats disperse.¡±

    Mitchell could see her slip back into her old instructor mode as she filled them in on the bit of lore surrounding the beasts. It seems you could take the old instructor out of the classroom but you couldn¡¯t take the classroom out of the instructor.

    ¡°The question is,¡± Gilriel continued, ¡°if your pet decides that the hunt is finished, what will he do? Hunts are temporary things, after all. What will he do if his desire and instinct to kill overcomes the inherently temporary loyalty to a tar s¡¯thyr?¡±

    They were quiet for a time as Mitchell pondered her words.

    ¡°That will be an interesting day, I think,¡± he said at last.

    Gilriel gave him a level look but only blinked in response.

    ***

    As the sun began to set Mitchell and the girls, along with Gilriel, who had strapped on her sword and swapped out the stones in her krisa, approached the tree line. That the cat was still young as far as those things were measured didn¡¯t appear to dissuade her.

    Mitchell called to Vras and they waited. He wouldn¡¯t have gone far. While the girls were relaxed, Gilriel was on high alert, hand on the pommel of the sword and a gemstone in her krisa already glowing. Her eyes were in constant motion as she scanned the undergrowth for signs of their six-legged companion. After a few moments a midnight black head with glowing green eyes parted the wild grass and it emerged smoothly and silently from cover. His eyes were already on Gilriel and his body was lowered, ears flat and tentacles low. He stopped about a meter from Mitchell and watched the retired knight warily.

    ¡°Vras, this is Gilriel. She is a friend.¡±

    Vras¡¯s eyes flicked to Mitchell briefly and then back to Gilriel who was also ready to draw her blade. Her stance was wide and her body, perhaps unconsciously, had started to crouch as if she expected action.

    ¡°Threat,¡± Vras said and a low growl could be heard in his chest.

    ¡°No, she¡¯s just scared. You know that gratha inspire fear in all the mortal races.¡±

    Vras¡¯s ears flicked.

    ¡°This is proper. But her scent is threat.¡±

    ¡°A gratha killed some of her friends. She fears you and fears that you will harm me and the girls. But I told her you would not.¡±

    For the first time Vras gave Mitchell his full attention.

    ¡°Then why does she still fear?¡±

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t believe that you will not harm us.¡±

    Vras seemed puzzled by this idea.

    ¡°Can you do what we discussed before?¡±

    Vras made a sound in his throat somewhere between a whine and a growl and looked almost plaintively at Mitchell, if such a thing were possible.

    ¡°Please,¡± he asked the beast once more. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t ask if it wasn¡¯t important.

    In their walk through the forest approaching Gilriel¡¯s glade there had been some discussion on how to make the introduction go smoother. Allora wasn¡¯t certain that Gilriel wouldn¡¯t kill Vras outright, no matter what they told her. Such was the hatred and fear of shadow cats among the people of Tewadunn. So Mitchell had discussed with Vras a way to¡ªhopefully¡ªcalm the situation.

    After a giving Mitchell one more baleful look Vras relaxed lowered himself fully to the ground, rolled over and presented his belly to Gilriel. It was an unprecedented display of subservience to their host who stared open-mouthed at the creature of pure nightmare that was now supplicating itself before her.

    ¡°Well¡­¡± Gilriel said after a pregnant pause. ¡°Balls and fucking taint.¡±If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°I like her,¡± Lethelin said with a grin.

    ***

    Despite the best of intentions, all anyone did the next day was rest. Mitchell had plans to rise with the dawn and continue with his practice but when dawn rolled around, all he did was turn over in his bedroll. Gilriel had assured them that her wards would signal her if anything dangerous got close so they could rest easy and so rest easy they did. After months of watches and guard duty, being able to sleep undisturbed was like a dream and it was one Mitchell intended to savor as long as he could.

    Her house was not large enough to fit them all and, even though the older elf had offered Allora her spot in the small guest room she had, the knight had opted to camp outside snuggled on one side of Mitchell with Leth on the other side. He hadn¡¯t minded at all. And, if he was being honest, it would have felt strange not to have them next to him while he slept.

    Mitchell had felt Allora stir a few hours after dawn, her old military habits being hard to break, but she had only kissed him lightly on the forehead and bid him to sleep as long as he¡¯d wanted. The sound of the small stream that ran behind Gilriel¡¯s house and the sibilant cooing of the athi in the coop nearby soon had him asleep once more.

    Eventually, hunger forced him from his bedroll under the lean to they¡¯d set up next to the fire circle that Gilriel had in her backyard. Looking at the sky he saw it was past noon. This was the longest he¡¯d slept since he¡¯d arrived on the planet. As he sat up, Lethelin groaned and cracked an eye.

    ¡°Food,¡± he said simply.

    She grunted and rolled over.

    ¡°Come on, we can¡¯t sleep all day.¡±

    ¡°Wanna bet?¡±

    He slipped his hand underneath the loose-fitting nightshirt she wore and stroked his fingers along her back and gave her some light scratches. Who didn¡¯t like a good back scratch?

    Leth arched her spine and she moaned but didn¡¯t get up.

    ¡°Come on, lazy bones. I smell something cooking.¡±

    ¡°You first. But first, a little to the left¡­ higher¡­ a little mo¡ªMmmmm, right there! Yessssss.¡±

    Mitchell scratched vigorously for a few moments and then spread it around. Retracting his hand, he gave her a light swat on the ass that got a squeak.

    ¡°Harder, please,¡± she said seductively and popped her butt up a little.

    ¡°Later,¡± he told her with a chuckle. ¡°Food first.¡±

    Leaving her pouting, he stood and headed for the wash bucket to get cleaned up.

    Once presentable in the cleanest set of clothes he had, he joined Allora and Gilriel in the dining area of the cottage where they were chatting over tea.

    ¡°Goo mooning, seepy heed,¡± Allora greeted him with a smile.

    Mitchell tried not to wince at her horrible English pronunciation and reminded himself that he probably sounded little better in Common, at least in those early days.

    ¡°Afternoon, more like it,¡± Gilriel said and got up to prepare him a cup of tea.

    ¡°We were a little more tired than I thought,¡± he said, somewhat embarrassed by his laziness.

    ¡°And why wouldn¡¯t you be?¡± the old drill instructor said as she handed him a cup of something warm and floral scented. "Crossing first Iletish and then the Peaks on foot? No easy task. You earned a slow morning.¡±

    Mitchell ducked his head by way of thanks and took a sip of the warm beverage. It was actually quite pleasant. It had a citrusy taste that tingled a little on the tongue and he found himself feeling a bit more alert. As he savored the tea, Allora set down a plate of some grilled meat and roasted vegetables that smelled amazing. After a quick word of thanks, he dug in with gusto, enjoying the freshly cooked food immensely. After weeks of trail rations it was like mana from heaven. The ladies let him eat undisturbed.

    Halfway through his meal Lethelin came in, still groggy but mobile.

    ¡°Any left for me?¡±

    After everyone had eaten their fill and the dishes had been cleared away, Allora spoke up.

    ¡°I think we need to talk about the next steps,¡± she said to Mitchell. ¡°And what you will need to do when we get to Lorivin and you complete the bond to Awen.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve been wondering about that.¡±

    ¡°The bonding process is not difficult under normal circumstances,¡± Gilriel said. ¡°Lorivast was guided into Awen¡¯s geode underground for his bonding, but a better way was found by the time the third monarch was seated. It is done through the throne itself, which is in the great hall of the Onyx Palace.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s another thing,¡± Mitchell broke in. ¡°How is it that Milandris hasn¡¯t taken control of the palace? You mentioned awhile back that he wasn¡¯t able to plunder the palace but why not? He controls the city, right?¡±

    Gilriel nodded.

    ¡°He does, but the palace is protected.¡±

    ¡°Once Baylor was killed and Awen felt the link with him end, she activated the palace defenses. It is something only she could do.¡±

    ¡°What are those?¡± Mitchell asked.

    ¡°The primary one is the shield. Embedded into the palace itself are gemstones from Awen¡¯s geode. They are connected to powerful shield wards that can be maintained as long as the gemstones are still viable. Eventually, they will fail. There were several redundancies built in should there ever be a siege of the palace, but they have never been active this long and I don¡¯t know how much time we still have before they fail altogether.

    ¡°Once Awen saw what was happening, those still in the palace were warned to leave as quickly as possible. After the shields were activated nothing could pass through from either side. Some made it out, but some did not.¡±

    ¡°What happened to them?

    ¡°Eventually, they would have starved to death,¡± Gilriel said simply.

    ¡°Even the people working and living in the palace?¡± Mitchell said, shocked.

    Allora nodded grimly. ¡°Unfortunately. If they did not heed the warning, they would have been trapped within the palace walls. Once the food ran out, they would have died.¡±

    ¡°The throne had to be protected,¡± Gilriel added. ¡°You must use it to bond with Awen.¡±

    ¡°So how will we get in?¡± Lethelin spoke up for the first time.

    ¡°Mitchell should be able to pass through the barrier as he carries the heart stone.¡± Allora told her.

    ¡°What about you two?¡± he asked.

    Allora glanced at Gilriel before answering.

    ¡°Holding your hand we should be able to enter with you,¡± she said, although she didn¡¯t sound to certain.

    ¡°Should?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s never been done before,¡± Gilriel said. ¡°But you should be able to bring people through with you.¡±

    ¡°The only other option would be for Awen to drop the shield completely and that would mean others could enter as well.¡±

    ¡°She can¡¯t just turn it off and turn it back on again.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Awen¡¯s voice suddenly spoke into his mind. ¡°The shield takes time to activate. It is a large and complex web of interconnected onyx stones and wards that need to be powered in the right sequence. If I were forced to drop the shield, it would be several minutes before I could bring it back. Rushing the process or activating them out of sequence would cause fluctuations in the power flow sufficient to overload the surviving gemstones and it is likely that it would fail completely.¡±

    After getting over his shock of having Awen suddenly speaking to him, he relayed that information to the others.

    ¡°Will the heart stone allow the girls in with me if they¡¯re holding my hands? And what about Vras?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Mitchell, I¡¯m sorry. It is possible the shield will not distinguish between the three of you if you are touching and sufficiently close together, but it was never tested with that in mind.¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s great.¡±

    Once more he repeated what Awen had told him and everyone¡¯s face wore a frown after that. Trying to stay on topic, Mitchell said, ¡°Okay, so let¡¯s say we get in, one way or another, then what do I need to do?¡±

    ¡°You would make your way to the throne room and sit in the Onyx Throne,¡± Gilriel told him. ¡°Once there, the throne will grow to encompass you completely and a more powerful version of what you experienced with the heart stone will take place.¡±

    Mitchell remembered that feeling of being burned from the inside out when he¡¯d taken up the heart stone all those weeks ago. It had felt like his blood had changed to fire and it was going to sear him from existence.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t so pleasant the first time,¡± he said flatly and looked at Allora who ducked her head slightly.

    ¡°Nor is the second time,¡± Gilriel said. ¡°But the heart stone will mitigate some of that. It has prepared your body to accept the stress of the full bonding. But it will not be pleasant, Mitchell. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°Nothing in life is ever easy.¡±

    ¡°What about the soldiers in the city?¡± Lethelin asked. ¡°Are they going to just let us walk into the palace?¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Allora began. ¡°If Mitchell can pass through the shield then we might be able to sneak in. And once we were through there is nothing they could do about it.¡±

    ¡°That is a big if,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°Are there any friendly forces inside the city? A resistance or something?¡±

    ¡°It is possible, but I do not know.¡±

    Mitchell looked to Gilriel.

    ¡°I¡¯m just as much in the dark as you three. I haven¡¯t been to the city in decades.¡±

    ¡°I assume they¡¯re on the lookout for us as well?¡± Mitchell asked.

    ¡°Almost certainly,¡± Allora said. ¡°I am the most wanted woman in Awenor.¡±

    She gave a sort of half-hearted grin at that.

    ¡°And Milandris would know by now that you are free and likely roaming about somewhere, that you¡¯re traveling with a human who might be the next monarch, and you¡¯ll be heading for the city.¡±

    Allora nodded.

    ¡°Security will be a bitch,¡± he muttered. ¡°How will we even get in the city if they¡¯re all watching for you?¡±

    ¡°I can get us into the city,¡± Lethelin said into the heavy silence while popping a basho into her mouth. ¡°No problem.¡±

    Allora blinked.

    ¡°What? How?¡±

    The lithe thief gave Allora a level look.

    ¡°Oh, come on,¡± Lethelin said, almost as if she were talking to children. ¡°Do you really think a city that big, with that many people going in and out, doesn¡¯t have a hundred ways to get past guards and tax officials?¡±

    ¡°But you are from Varset. You said yourself you have never been to the city!¡± Allora shot back.

    ¡°What difference does that make?¡± Lethelin said cooly. ¡°I¡¯m a member of the guild. If I want to get in, I can get in.¡±

    Mitchell saw Gilriel start to grin.

    ¡°You and your guild!¡± Allora said dismissively. ¡°A collection of cut purses and thugs?¡±

    Lethelin arched an eyebrow.

    ¡°Do you really think that¡¯s all that it is?¡±

    Lethelin¡¯s voice was cool and confident. There was no braggadocio evident. She was speaking as plainly as if she were declaring the sky was blue. Her confidence seemed to put Allora on the backfoot.

    ¡°I do not see how some secret organization of criminals could have thrived in the very capital itself!¡± she said, trying to recover. ¡°Not only with the city watch but the knights routinely on patrol and overseeing all the goings on. It is inconceivable.¡±

    ¡°My old master used to say that the easiest ones to con are the ones who are convinced they can¡¯t be conned,¡± Lethelin said with a sly grin.

    ¡°Let me see your token,¡± Gilriel spoke up then.

    This brought Lethelin up short. The cocky grin dropped from her face instantly, replaced by a look of wariness.

    ¡°If you speak the truth that you are indeed a member of the guild, despite your obviously young age, I want to see your token.¡±

    ¡°Gilriel, are you saying there is indeed a Thieves¡¯ Guild?¡± Allora asked.

    Gilriel held up a hand to silence Allora without looking at her. The knight clapped her mouth shut in response and assumed a posture of obedience, clasping her hands in her lap and looking down.

    Lethelin looked to Mitchell clearly hoping he would help her extricate herself from the situation. Mitchell merely shrugged.

    ¡°This is on you,¡± he told her. ¡°You made the claim.¡±

    Seeing no way out of the hole she¡¯d apparently dug for herself, she swore.

    ¡°Me and my big mouth,¡± she muttered.

    Lethelin reached under her cloak and pulled Mira out from its sheath. Flipping it upside down, she began to unscrew the cap on the pommel. With a small squeak it came lose and she held out the end of the grip to their host. Mitchell saw then that the cap had not come fully off. Instead, only the top half had unscrewed. Lethelin had presented the flat half still attached to the grip for inspection.

    She stared at it for several seconds and then gave Lethelin a hard stare.

    ¡°It appears I underestimated you,¡± Gilriel said cooly.

    ¡°What?¡± Allora said then, no longer able to hold her tongue. ¡°What is it? I want to see it!¡±

    Lethelin pulled the dagger back and quickly screwed the cap on before sliding it back into its sheath on her back.

    ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary,¡± Gilriel said. ¡°She can get you into the city.¡±

    ¡°But¡­?¡± Allora began but Gilriel gave her a warning look.

    ¡°Mind your tone, girl,¡± the old elf said, that drill instructor edge coming back into her voice. ¡°The girl can do what she says she can do. That is all you need to know.¡±

    Lethelin looked both relieved and embarrassed.

    ¡°That¡¯s my girl,¡± Mitchell told the thief.

    Seeing that she was not going to get any answers, Allora suddenly said ¡°Oh¡­ balls!¡±

 Chapter 59

    The next couple of days were a blur of activity. Allora was testy with Lethelin for awhile demanding once more to see the mysterious token and to get more information about the Thieves¡¯ Guild, but Lethelin refused. After the third time, the thief adopted a look of confusion and would simply say, ¡®Whatever are you referring to, m¡¯lady?¡¯ Mitchell thought Allora was going to take a swing at her, but the knight merely stalked off and spent the next hour practicing her sword forms until she was so exhausted Mitchell thought he might have to carry her to the stream to cool her off.

    As for Mitchell, he was as busy as ever. Gilriel took up his instruction on their second day and he found her just as brutal and efficient as Allora had been. He had defended against her first exploratory strikes with ease. However, that was just a way for her to get a feel for his speed and strength. Once the old elf had a general sense of his skill level, she went to work on him.

    Mitchell saw many of the techniques Allora used to train him present in Gilriel¡¯s instruction. The biggest difference was that Gilriel was much tighter in her execution of the various moves. Mitchell supposed that was the benefit of literal decades of practice. Allora was very good by every account. From what he understood, the Academy they studied at passed no one who couldn¡¯t cut it, but working with Gilriel showed him what a true master of the blade looked like.

    Because both Gilriel and Allora had trained under the Onyx Academy¡¯s system, the names were the same for the various positions in which he was drilled. This made it easy for him to go through the movements as she called out some of the same sequences for him to move through as Allora had. Although she did have a few that had tripped him up in the beginning.

    ¡°Allora hasn¡¯t taught you that one, yet, eh?¡± she said with a grin.

    Mitchell was panting and nursing a welt on his inner thigh where her practice sword had found its mark after he made a misstep.

    ¡°Apparently not,¡± he grimaced.

    He was panting, his face was dripping with sweat, and he¡¯d removed his shirt after soaking it through an hour before.

    She looked at the spot he was massaging.

    ¡°Do you think you have it now?¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s find out,¡± she said as she brought her sword up to the ready position. ¡°Hup!¡±

    That was their signal to begin. Mitchell moved through the new sequence again. When she moved to strike this time, he almost lost his footing, but he was just a hair faster than before and her practice blade missed with less than an inch to spare. Taking advantage of her slight surprise at his speed, Mitchell riposted with a series of three quick and savage attacks that sent Gilriel scampering back with a look of grim determination on her face as she worked to parry his blade. Regaining her composure, she locked him up and they came together, him panting and her finally breaking out in a sweat.

    ¡°Not bad, Earth man,¡± she said and her grin turned almost feral. ¡°But not good enough!¡±

    Mitchell sensed her feet move beneath them and, before he could react, he felt her leg slip between his and her shoulder took him hard in the chest. The next moment he was on the ground looking at the sky as he struggled to draw breath. Gilriel loomed over him, her practice sword placed at his neck.

    ¡°I guess you haven¡¯t learned that one yet, either,¡± she said to him with that savage smile.

    ¡°No,¡± he groaned as he pulled himself to his feet.

    ¡°Watch carefully.¡±

    ***

    Allora finished adjusting the final strap on her chest piece as she watched Mitchell work at summoning his shield of daggers while Gilriel harried him with a long bit of branch she¡¯d found somewhere. Their months of hard travel had caused her to drop weight and it had taken the better part of an afternoon to tighten up the fittings where they were loose and trim away some excess material before resewing it. The steel fasteners had been especially vexing. Luckily, Gilriel had the basic tools needed to maintain the gear and she remembered enough that she got the work done, albeit slowly and with many mumbled curses and a few cuts on her fingers. She ran her hands over the supple leather and just seeing the violet and black colors soothed her. She remembered those days when she¡¯d first been fitted for them. She¡¯d been just seventeen high suns old. Not so long ago in years, but ancient when she thought of all she¡¯d been through since those hopeful days. Her mother and father had been there when she walked out of the armorer¡¯s studio, fully clad as an Onyx Knight. They didn¡¯t say anything, but they didn¡¯t have to. Their smiles were enough.

    She ran her hand down the seam she¡¯d just restitched as she remembered doing her initial combat drills fully armored. It had been awkward at first as her body adjusted to the new weight, but, as with every knight before her, she had adapted and thrived. Her armor was like a second skin to her now. She longed for the day when she could wear it again without fear.

    Her mind went back to the bandit they¡¯d come across. His words still stung her. To see how much he had hated the knights for what had happened. Would all feel that way? She hoped not. She hoped desperately that when Mitchell claimed the throne that the people would take hope and help in the fight against Milandris and that they would see that not all the knights were gone.

    ¡°Hold it!¡±

    Gilriel¡¯s sharp command broke through her idle thoughts. She was standing a few meters back from Mitchell as the shield of daggers whirled in the area around him like a tornado of sharpened steel.

    ¡°Now, you girl. Do as I¡¯ve told you. Fire!¡±

    Allora¡¯s eyes widened as she saw Lethelin standing near the edge of the clearing with the blackmoor bow she¡¯d been gifted and an arrow loaded. The thief looked uncertain.

    ¡°You¡¯re crazy!¡± Mitchell said through clenched teeth as he fought to maintain the spell. ¡°She¡¯ll kill me.¡±

    ¡°Do it, girl!¡± Gilriel barked. ¡°Before he loses the spell.¡±

    Before Allora could cry out a protest Lethelin brought her bow up in one smooth motion and released the arrow in a fraction of a second. Even with the shock of what she was witnessing making her almost numb, Allora could see the skill evident in her movements.

    ¡°No!¡± Allora shouted from twenty meters away as she tried to hop over the table as if she could throw herself in front of the arrow already speeding towards Mitchell¡¯s heart.

    Mitchell screamed as the arrow raced toward him, level and true, but he held the spell.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Allora watched in disbelief as the arrow struck his shield of daggers and was instantly ripped apart by the spectral blades, the broken pieces flying off in multiple directions.

    Mitchell¡¯s scream cut off, the spell dropped, and he fell to one knee, panting with exertion and looking like he might topple over. Allora raced to his side and began to kneel down and check on him but he saw her from the corner of his eye and waved her off.

    ¡°I¡¯m okay, just almost out of mana. I¡¯ll be alright.¡±

    Allora turned her glare on Gilriel.

    ¡°What were you thinking? He could have been killed!¡±

    The old knight arched an eyebrow at Allora¡¯s tone, but didn¡¯t meet anger with anger.

    ¡°He needed to trust the spell. It would do no good if he dropped it under threat. You know that, Allora. And now he does, as well.¡± She looked down at Mitchell who was starting to get to his feet. ¡°Don¡¯t you, boy?¡±

    Mitchell merely nodded, giving the old woman a wary glance. Lethelin arrived then and looked apologetically at Allora.

    Allora wanted to argue but she also knew that such things were fairly standard as a way to build one¡¯s confidence in their abilities. Still, if something had gone wrong¡­

    ¡°If it¡¯s alright with you, I think that¡¯s enough for today,¡± Mitchell said, looking at Gilriel. His shoulders were slumped and his bare chest and back were covered in bruises and welts from their sword work and spell practice. They would be healed by morning but it still made her wince to see them.

    ¡°It is,¡± Gilriel said, giving Mitchell a pleased smile. ¡°You¡¯ve earned your rest. Go get cleaned up and I¡¯ll start dinner.¡±

    Mitchell only nodded and trudged away, exhaustion evident in every line of his body. He unlaced his sevith as he walked, placing it on a small table next to the cottage and headed for the tree line.

    ¡°You, girl,¡± Gilriel said, turning her attention back to Lethelin. ¡°That was a fine shot. I couldn¡¯t have done it better myself. I¡¯m glad to see that the bow will not be wasted.¡±

    Lethelin actually blushed and dipped her head.

    ¡°Thank you, Lady Gilriel. It is a magnificent weapon. I will cherish it and use it wisely.¡±

    Allora still couldn¡¯t get used to the respectful way Lethelin spoke to the elder elf. It really was like she was looking at a different person than the one who¡¯d she¡¯d nearly throttled more times than she could count.

    ¡°Now, if you wouldn¡¯t mind, would you get an athi from the pen and butcher it for me. Everyone deserves a big meal tonight, I think.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Lady Gilriel.¡±

    Lethelin ducked her head once more and, with a quick glance at Allora, made her way to the back of the cottage to choose some unfortunate bird for their dinner. Then it was just the two of them. The older woman gave Allora a level stare.

    ¡°Gilriel, I¡ª¡±

    The woman held up a hand and silenced her. Such was Allora¡¯s training that she couldn¡¯t help but obey.

    ¡°This will not do, Allora De Annen. This will not do at all.¡±

    Without even knowing why, Allora felt ashamed.

    ¡°The same was done for you, I¡¯m sure,¡± Gilriel¡¯s voice was hard. ¡°You would have faced far more dangerous attacks than a mere arrow as you learned to master your shield spells. Yet you ask me to do less for Mitchell? He must be prepared when he goes into battle and that cannot be done unless he trusts his own powers!¡±

    ¡°But¡ª¡±

    ¡°I did not give you permission to speak!¡± The old instructor¡¯s voice was like a lash across bare skin. We may not be in the academy but I am still a knight and your superior officer. You will remain silent until I give you leave to answer. Is that understood, lieutenant?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Commander,¡± Allora said meekly.

    Gilriel let out a long sigh.

    ¡°You must squash this desire to coddle him, Allora,¡± her tone gentler now. ¡°You cannot teach him what he needs to know with half measures. I know that you love him but you are doing him no favors.

    ¡°I¡­¡± she swallowed. ¡°He has already experienced so much pain because of me. Between our capture and the brutal way in which we were forced to instruct him in his magical studies¡­ I fear that doing more may drive him away or break him in some way that healing spells cannot mend. Almost all he has known since he came to Tewadunn has been pain and torment. How can I continue to add to that?¡±

    Gilriel¡¯s look softened.

    ¡°Because it will keep him alive. From what you¡¯ve all told me of the human world, they don¡¯t often need to fight as we must here. You will be heading to Lorivin soon, surrounded and outnumbered at all times. Understanding the limits of that spell could very well save his life, or yours. You know that. If you love him as I know that you do, how could you do less for him?¡±

    Allora bowed her head and nodded.

    ¡°You are right.¡±

    ¡°Come here, girl,¡± Gilriel said and hugged her close.

    Allora returned the embrace and felt the love she had for this woman swell in her chest. She filled her nose with the scent of the morning blossom soap that Gilriel used to bathe.

    ¡°Your mother would be proud of you, you know.¡±

    ¡°Sometimes, I do not think so,¡± Allora said into Gilriel¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I feel so lost most of the time. I feel as if every decision I make is wrong and we will all suffer for it.¡±

    Gilriel broke the hug and held Allora at arm¡¯s length. She was smiling broadly.

    ¡°Nonsense, child. I think no one else could have done what you¡¯ve done. No one else could have accomplished so much with so little, and against such odds. You have Vish¡¯s blessings upon you.¡±

    ¡°How can you possibly know that?¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t I tell you that fairy wings were blooming at my shrine the morning you arrived?¡±

    ¡°So?¡±

    Gilriel chuckled and shook her head as she pulled Allora¡¯s arm into hers and they started to walk back toward her cottage.

    ¡°You were telling the truth when you said you neglected your religious studies.¡±

    Allora gave a bashful smile but didn¡¯t reply.

    ¡°I had prayed to Vish to let me know when you had returned. Fairy wings are her blossom. She has been watching you and she let me know that you would arrive that day. Three flowers were blooming from the ground in front of the shrine that morning. I knew you had returned and I knew there were three of you. Although, truth be told, I half expected the third to be Revos. I could do with a tumble with that randy old devil.¡±

    ¡°Gilriel!¡± Allora said, shocked.

    ¡°You could do with a tumble yourself, girl.¡±

    Gilriel gave her a knowing grin then swatted her on the bottom.

    ¡°Go check on Mitchell. And¡­¡± Gilriel glanced down the path that Mitchell had taken to the bathing pool before her eyes returned to Allora. ¡°Take your time.¡±

    ¡°I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Go on. Dinner won¡¯t be for a good hour at least. I didn¡¯t wear him out too much and you both need it after all you¡¯ve been through.¡±

    Unbidden a flush rose in Allora¡¯s cheeks and she broke from her mentor and followed the path Mitchell had taken into the forest behind the cottage.

    As she picked her way down the path she felt her heart beat faster. Lethelin was off helping Gilriel with dinner and it sounded like she would keep the assassin busy to give them some privacy. Allora knew how Mitchell and Lethelin felt about each other and she knew he would want to be with her soon enough as well, but she found herself getting slightly possessive. It was right that she was his first, though. She didn¡¯t mind sharing him, not really. But she knew that if he had bedded Lethelin first she would have felt disappointed. As she crossed the grass into the forest she couldn¡¯t stop herself from imagining finally having him. His lips on hers, his hands on her skin, his hardness between her thighs.

    Unbidden the fear came to her then, like a bucket of icy river water over her head. What if she lost him? What if she had to do what¡¯d she¡¯d done before? Davrys¡¯s confused and pleading eyes suddenly became azure blue and the face resolved itself in her mind¡¯s eye to Mitchell¡¯s. The shock was so intense it almost took her to her knees. Instead, she braced a hand against a nearby tree and tried to master her emotions. This time would be different. Gilriel had said herself that they had Vish¡¯s blessing. She wouldn¡¯t fail again. She wouldn¡¯t lose Mitchell. She wouldn¡¯t have to¡­

    She stiffened her spine and stood upright. She reminded herself once more that she deserved this. Mitchell deserved it, as well. He had sacrificed so much for her and he had never once asked for anything in return. He hadn¡¯t asked for gold or favors. He hadn¡¯t started making demands like some petulant lord. And he loved her. It was evident in everything he did how much his heart burned for her. She saw it and she gloried in the radiance of it. It had been her strength, all these lonely weeks they¡¯d traveled together. Even when she had been too afraid to admit the truth to herself, he had never wavered. They would have this, she decided. What was it Mitchell had said, the night before as they¡¯d shared their wine by the little campfire outside their tent?

    ¡°Eat, drink, and be merry,¡± he¡¯d said. ¡°For tomorrow, we may die.¡±

    Allora understood the meaning behind the foreign phrase. The future was unknown and death could come on swift wings. She knew that they were unlikely to die tomorrow, but they were heading into perils unknown and victory was far from certain. Today, she decided, they would finally have their moment.

    Resolute in her decision, Allora continued on down the path to the grotto that Gilriel had made for bathing.

 Chapter 60

    Mitchell walked down the path that led to a pool about seventy or eighty meters past the tree line of the clearing around Gilriel¡¯s cottage. The water from the stream that ran past her residence poured over a little two-meter-high waterfall and into a mostly circular pool about four meters in diameter before running out the other side to continue on its way. The area just around the pool had been largely cleared away and moss grew in large patches interspersed with beds of wild grass and various flowers. It had then been cultivated by the old elf into something that put Mitchell in mind of a sort of Japanese hot spring.

    The moss was thick and soft around the banks and he could see the small ward posts that Gilriel had erected to keep insects and animals away. The woman clearly had a knack for creating wards. Flowers were also growing in abundance all around the circumference and they filled the air with a variety of scents from citrus to lavender to pine. The thick, low trees that seemed to dominate this part of the forest were plentiful here and it was almost possible to believe Mitchell had stepped into some other world. Well, a second other world, now that he thought about it and grinned to himself. The heavy canopy and thick trunks blocked all sight of the clearing and cottage despite not being very far off, and the air was cool and heavy.

    Once at the edge he began pulling his sweat-soaked clothes off and stripped down to his birthday suit before stepping into the cool water. He gritted his teeth against the abrupt temperature change on his skin and then groaned in relief as the chill water leached the heat from his tired and abused body. Three days of brutal sword practice had taken its toll, especially followed by a few hours of magic training that, while not as physically taxing as the blade work, still left him with pounding headaches afterwards. Luckily, Gilriel had a tea that was well-suited for this and about a half hour after they finished, he mostly felt better. Finding out about this pool after that first day of practice had been a godsend as well.

    He eased himself back into the recess and let his toes play in the silty bottom. He could make out small fish that swam in the pool but they didn¡¯t bother him and so he didn¡¯t bother them. The scents and sounds of the grotto lulled him into a sort of stupor and he felt his psyche go as lax as his muscles. He let his mind wander and, as it often did these days, his thoughts circled back to Allora.

    Growing closer with her these last two weeks since she¡¯d awoken had been like a dream come true. When he reached for her hand, it was always there. When he leaned in for a kiss, her mouth was always waiting. And she had grown more confident in initiating kisses of her own. He knew that they were building towards sleeping together but he found he didn¡¯t feel like rushing it. It would happen when it happened.

    But, there was the secrets she still kept. Whatever she was hiding from him was a concern. He could see the grief on her face sometimes when she thought no one was looking. Then there were her nightmares. He¡¯d heard her often enough in her sleep that he could tell which ones were random and which ones were related to whatever burden she was carrying. And the name: Davrys. It was always a giveaway. The anguish in her eyes during that delirious confession on the steps of the Peaks still haunted him. He wasn¡¯t sure what he should do about that just yet but he knew he couldn¡¯t keep putting it off.

    ¡°May I join you?¡±

    Mitchell jerked up, startled, and saw Allora standing at the opposite rim of the pool. He¡¯d been so lost in his own thoughts and with the sounds of the forest around him that he hadn¡¯t heard her approach. She looked down at him with a playful smile and Mitchell became very aware that he was nude. Not that it was that much of an issue as there were little secrets left between the three of them anymore. They¡¯d been in close quarters nonstop for months now and they¡¯d seen all of each other.

    She stood there, barefoot and in the simple dress she had borrowed from Gilriel, and waited expectantly.

    ¡°Sure, there¡¯s room,¡± he told her, sitting up.

    She dipped her head and, in one fluid motion, pulled her dress up over her head. Her chest came into full view and Mitchell nearly forgot how to breathe at the sight of it. He felt himself grow hot and hard beneath the water at the display before him. Her breasts were full, round, and still taught and firm, despite being what must be a D-cup back home. But there was hardly any sag to them. Her nipples were a warm pink the same shade as her lips and they were already erect. He followed the valley between her tits down to her toned stomach, her six-pack clearly visible, to where it disappeared into the simple linen panties she wore.

    Tossing the dress aside, she saw where his eyes were focused and she grinned.

    ¡°What are you looking at, my lord?¡±

    He gave her his own little wicked smile.

    ¡°I¡¯m looking at you, m¡¯lady.¡±

    She hooked her fingers into the panties and, with a little shimmy, slid them down as well, bringing her sex into view. Mitchell had seen it before, though mostly in passing. Brazilian waxing apparently wasn¡¯t a thing here¡ªnot that there would have been a way to do it on the road¡ªbut he found he didn¡¯t care at all. The tuft of black hair between her thighs only aroused him more. And she noticed. Her cheeks flared red at seeing him beneath the clear water, but she didn¡¯t hesitate.

    Allora stepped into the water and shivered just as he had and sank down onto the seat that had been built into the pool on that side. It was composed of polished river stones that had been carefully shaped to accept humanoid proportions and he found it to be quite comfortable.

    She settled down until her breasts sank beneath the water and Mitchell made a pouty face at her, which she saw but chose to merely scrunch her nose up at him as her feet found his near the middle of the pool. Then, like teenagers sitting across from each other at the lab table in chemistry class, they played footsie as she soaked. She laid her head back, resting it on the soft moss and her arms floated up to the surface. Mitchell opted not to speak, but to let the silence stretch as she relaxed just as he had. Their feet never stopped their idle touches though. He mimicked her pose and allowed his head to lay back as well.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    After a few minutes he heard her sit up as her feet pulled away. He opened his eyes and saw that she was reaching for the little basket that sat at the base of the waterfall and which Mitchell knew to contain some soaps and, of all things, a loofah. Although here it was called a natorki. It turns out they had a similar plant in Awenor that could be converted into a spongey material that was good for scrubbing.

    Natorki and soap in hand, she stood and Mitchell was treated to the glorious sight of all the water cascading down her body as if she were a sea goddess emerging from the depths. The little bit of sunlight that filtered through the canopy played across her body and glistened in a way that made Mitchell want to run his tongue over every inch of her skin. His cock, almost soft after several minutes of no stimuli, sprang immediately to life once more.

    She began to lather up and saw him watching. While she didn¡¯t actually turn to face him, he could see her shift a little bit so that he might get a better side view. The soap began to bubble and foam over her smooth skin and Mitchell¡¯s nose was filled with the floral scent of the soap that Gilriel preferred. It was like rose, but not so cloying. And there was a hint of some spice that Mitchell thought might be nutmeg or allspice.

    He watched as she passed the natorki over her shoulders and her arms, then over her breasts. Then she did turn to face him full on as she sat her naked rump on the mossy bank and began to lather up first one leg, then another. Mitchell watched like a man hypnotized as she put on a show for him. Her movements were slow and languid and as her soapy hands traveled up between her thighs he heard her gasp slightly at the contact. Then she looked at him with an undeniable invitation.

    ¡°I could use some help with my back and my hair, if you do not mind.¡±

    ¡°As my lady wishes,¡± Mitchell said and stood to cross the short distance. He watched as her eyes trailed down his now-chiseled chest and abs. Mitchell knew he looked like he belonged on the cover of a fitness magazine at this point. Weeks of hard training, rugged overland travel, and the high protein, low-fat diet had him ripped. He¡¯d never been all that vain but even he couldn¡¯t believe how good he looked.

    Her eyes lingered on his hardness and he saw her bite her lower lip as she squeezed her thighs together. As he stood before her fully exposed, she brought her hands to his chest and ran her fingers over the lines of his muscles. His skin prickled with goose flesh and she noticed and giggled at the little dimples that broke out of his chest and arms.

    ¡°All that training has done good things,¡± he said as she drew him close and her arms went around to his back.

    ¡°Yes, it has,¡± she said distractedly. She parted her legs and started to pull him closer but he stopped her.

    ¡°I thought I was here to help you with your hair and your back.¡±

    Allora glanced up at him, pulling her eyes away from his chest, and she saw him smiling at her.

    ¡°Yes. I did ask for that.¡±

    Mitchell reached behind her for the little basket and brought the soap out and plucked the natorki from her hands. Then she stood and turned away from him. He grabbed her hair and pulled it over her shoulder and then began to scrub in slow circles, first over her shoulders, then down to her spine, and then to her lower back and over the curve of her ass.

    ¡°It tickles!¡± she squeaked.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he chuckled.

    As his hands started their way back up she leaned back into him and he wrapped his arms around her. Allora¡¯s breath caught in her throat as his hands made their way up the curve of her breasts and found them just as firm and supple as he¡¯d imagined. Her nipples were hard and rode over the ridges of his palms in a way he found indescribably enticing.

    ¡°That is not my back¡­¡± she said breathily as she pushed her chest forward while simultaneously pushing her ass into his cock which made him groan into her ear.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not. But you missed a spot. You had some tree sap right,¡± Mitchell swirled fingers around her areolas making her gasp. ¡°There. Just wanted to make sure you were all clean.¡±

    ¡°Oh, did I?¡± she said with a throaty chuckle. ¡°Am I all clean now?¡±

    Mitchell did another pass over her breasts and squeezed firmly causing her to shudder in his arms.

    ¡°I think so. I¡¯ll do your hair now.¡±

    ¡°Mmmhmm.¡±

    Mitchell pulled her hair back over her shoulder and brought up a few handfuls of fresh water to rewet her long raven locks. Then he began to work the soap in and built up a thick lather. He began to massage her scalp which drew a long groan as his fingers found those pressure points at the base of her skull and then around the crown.

    ¡°Oh, gods¡­¡± she said as he began to work at her temples. ¡°Where did you learn to do this?¡±

    ¡°I had a book on massage in college. I studied. It seems the technique works on elves also.¡±

    His fingers began to work down the arch of her neck and into the tight muscles of her shoulders. She actually started to go weak in the knees.

    ¡°You have known how to do this the whole time?¡±

    ¡°Sure. Just didn¡¯t have the chance until now.¡±

    ¡°Your new job is to do this to me everyday,¡± she said with another throaty groan as he worked at the muscles around her shoulder blades.¡±

    Mitchell leaned forward and kissed the tip of her ear and said, ¡°As my lady commands.¡±

    He turned her around slowly and her body was all limp and relaxed. Her eyes were closed and she had a soft smile on her lips as she moved. As his arms encircled her once more and hers rose to encircle him as well, he eyes opened and they looked at each other.

    All of a sudden, she let out a little scream and jerked away from him so hard she lost her footing and fell with a splash back into the water.

    ¡°Allora!¡±

    He reached for her and she jerked away.

    ¡°No!¡± She shouted and pushed his hands away and pulled herself up onto the mossy embankment where she pulled her body into a ball. There she sat, shivering and hugging her knees to herself, soap still foamy in her hair, and eyes squeezed tight. Mitchell could only stare at her in shock.

    ¡°Nononono,¡± she was whispering to herself.

    Mitchell walked to the edge of the pool then sat down on the edge next to her. He reached for one of her hands and she resisted at first, but then her fingers came lose from around her leg and she allowed him to hold it.

    ¡°What happened?¡±

    Slowly, her eyes opened and she looked at him once more. She flinched, as if she was afraid of what she might see, but whatever she feared, it wasn¡¯t there and he saw her shoulders relax slightly.

    ¡°For a moment, when I opened my eyes, I saw¡­¡±

    Her body suddenly convulsed as she sobbed and her hand squeezed his.

    ¡°I saw someone else. I do not know why but for an instant you wore his face.¡±

    Mitchell exhaled hard through his nose. Although he was seriously concerned about her, he was also about at his limit. He needed to walk this line carefully. Obviously, Allora was dealing with something traumatic and it was chewing her up inside, but he knew they couldn¡¯t continue like that.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s time to tell me the truth.¡±

    Her body shuddered harder for a moment.

    ¡°No more lies and half truths, Allora.¡±

    She didn¡¯t say anything but he saw her eyes well with fresh tears. He gripped her hand harder, trying to reassure her that he was there for her.

    ¡°You need to tell me about Davrys.¡±

    Allora jerked as if he¡¯d slapped her and a look of abject horror spread over her face.

    ¡°How do you know his name?¡±

    ¡°I know it. That is enough for now. The truth, Allora.¡±

    Then, Mitchell did something he had never done with her before.

    ¡°That is an order.¡±

 Chapter 61

    It was several minutes before the truth was revealed. He gave her time to rinse off, and he gave himself a quick scrub down as well, hoping that there would be another opportunity to continue what they¡¯d started at a later time. As much as Mitchell wanted her, he knew this needed to happen. It was long past time for her to unburden herself.

    Once they were clean and reclothed, they sat together on a flat bit of mossy ground next to the pool where some late afternoon sunlight was breaking through and warmed themselves a little bit. Mitchell didn¡¯t say anything, knowing¡ªas always¡ªthat Allora spoke when she was ready. He merely sat, held her hand, and waited for her.

    ¡°You were not the first one the spell chose,¡± she said at last, her anguished violet eyes meeting his, and then looking away quickly. ¡°The first time Gilriel and I successfully performed the ritual, it located a young man here in Awenor. His name was Davrys. He was from a small village in the central regions called Tena, about two week¡¯s travel from here on foot. Faster if you have jivvis. He was a sun elf. A miller¡¯s son. Fifteen high suns old.¡±

    ¡°That seems young.¡±

    Allora nodded.

    ¡°He was, but that was not the first time the spell had chosen someone so young. The fourth monarch, an elven girl named Kahlan, was selected when she was sixteen high suns old. Sadly, her reign ended after only twenty-seven years. She was killed during an expedition to tame the northern part of Awenor for new settlements. But the spell chooses whom it will, no one knows exactly how it works.

    Mitchell grunted and nodded for her to continue.

    ¡°I traveled there as quickly as I could and told Davrys who I was and why I was there. He was shocked, just as you were, but he agreed readily. He could not wait to drive out the invaders and see Awenor set back to the way it was. He accepted the heart stone that very night. He told his family he was leaving, although he did not say why, and we left together. My intention was to head here, prepare as best as we could, and then make the trip to Lorivin to try and complete the bond with Awenor.

    ¡°They found us six days later.¡±

    Allora¡¯s eyes took on a faraway look and her face went flat.

    ¡°I had known that Milandris could track me, although I still do not know how. You normally need someone¡¯s blood for precise tracking and he had no way to get mine. But I had run into his forces before and I never stayed in one place long.¡±

    Mitchell suddenly glanced around at the woods.

    ¡°Are we safe here?¡±

    She refocused on him and then nodded absently.

    ¡°Yes, here may be the only place we are safe from his scrying attempts. Well, here or a dragon¡¯s lair. Gilriel¡¯s wards are powerful and block all attempts at scrying and she added some protection for me as well when I have to leave. The bracelet I showed you before, do you remember it?¡±

    ¡°The one from the old lady of Iletish?¡±

    Allora almost smiled.

    ¡°The elderly lady of Iletish, yes. The king¡¯s mother. It is electrum, as I said, which is well suited to hold enchantments. Gilriel added some masking wards to it which, we thought, would block whatever Milandris or his forces were using to track me. He does not have my blood so it should have worked, but it did not.¡±

    She got quiet again and he saw the grief begin to twist her features, but she mastered her emotions and pressed on, although her grip on his hand increased to the point that it almost ached.

    ¡°There were nine of them. Three casters. They came upon us as we prepared for our evening meal near an old farmstead, long abandoned. I was hit with an arcane missile spell as they tried to stun me. They wanted me alive. But I fought back. I killed the one who attacked me, badly wounded the other, and took out three of the soldiers who tried to surround us. But in doing so I exhausted my blood stone and my spare gemstones were in the pack next to the fire, which we had fled. Davrys had magic and knew a couple of rudimentary spells but he had no offensive or defensive magic. We ran. I used what little mana I had left to cast a fireball into the dry grass as a distraction and we fled. That was when the third caster struck.

    ¡°I heard the spell coming and I was able to use the cross guard stone to block it, but it hit Davrys and burned him badly. It was arcane lighting. You saw it in the fight with the bandits in the mountains. The orc used it on us when we entered the caves. As I said, they were shooting to wound, not to kill.¡±

    Mitchell only nodded.

    ¡°I was forced to turn and confront the caster, but drained of mana and with only my stone in the cross guard for defense, it was a hard fight. I was already hurt from the arcane bolt, my leg near useless, and now I had no mana or ability to cast much even if I did. But I was lucky, I suppose. The last caster looked young. A human woman, maybe only twenty high suns old, and she only carried a staff. She was one of those who had relied solely on her magical abilities and had not learned to use weapons. She had not expected me to charge her. I was able to deflect her attacks with the shield and, once I closed the distance, she was dispatched quickly.¡±

    ¡°Four left,¡± Mitchell said, somberly.

    Allora nodded, her eyes now downcast. The forest was growing quiet as evening set in. The only sounds were those from the waterfall behind them and the occasional chirp of some bird.

    ¡°They were hesitant and held back now that all their casters were gone. The field was burning enthusiastically and the flames were growing closer. Smoke began to roll over us and breathing was difficult. Taking advantage of the poor visibility I moved as quickly as I could back to Davrys who had tried to crawl but the burns covered almost his entire left side and I had no mana left to heal him. I picked him up and tried to carry him but my leg¡­¡±

    Allora started to choke up.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    ¡°He¡­ He was no small child, but nearly a man. He was well muscled and heavy. If I had had use of both my legs¡­¡± Her voice became strangled as she fought to get the story out through her grief. ¡°I could have carried him but I fell and all I could do was drag him. He started screaming at the pain and I could hear them searching the smoke for us. I¡­ I¡­¡±

    She took several large lungfuls of air as she tried to get control of herself. After she settled down somewhat, something seemed to switch off in her. Allora¡¯s voice became almost mechanical in the retelling.

    ¡°Half carrying him and half dragging him, I made it to a small farm building near the edge of the field. Davrys was only barely conscious by then, the pain having been more than he could bear. My leg was bleeding badly, I could feel myself weakening, and I knew we didn¡¯t have much time before they found their way through the smoke to the building. They would capture me, kill Davrys, acquire the heart stone and then all would be lost. There would be no one to find a new monarch and Awen would die, and the land with her. I could not allow that to happen, so I took the only path left to me. The only thing I could do to save Awen.¡±

    Mitchell had a sinking feeling in his gut. He knew what she was about to say and his heart broke for her. Still, he also knew he had to see this through. If for no other reason than she needed to stop carrying this burden alone.

    ¡°I took my dagger and plunged it into Davrys¡¯s heart.¡±

    Although her voice was flat, tears were running freely down her face and her body trembled.

    ¡°As he died, the heart stone emerged from his chest near where my blade pierced his flesh. I took it and made all haste out of the field. The others must have been poor trackers because they did not follow. I hid in the wilderness, eating what roots and wild food I could find, until my leg had recovered enough that I could risk travel overland. It took me almost two ten days before I returned to Gilriel¡¯s cottage.¡±

    Allora looked up at him, although he doubted she could see him through the tears. She broke, then, her face collapsing in on itself like someone crumbling up old paper in their fist.

    ¡°I killed him, Mitchell!¡± she nearly wailed.

    She pulled her hand out of his and brought both hands up in front of her face. They were shaking and she looked at them as if they were the hands of some evil thing.

    ¡°I killed him and I ran!¡±

    Mitchell got up and pulled her to him and held her. Her body convulsed and she gripped his bare skin like it was the only thing keeping her from hell¡¯s abyss.

    ¡°He trusted me. I swore to protect him and I failed! I ran. Like the night Milandris came. I ran and my father, my mother, everyone¡­ I¡­¡± she choked on her own agony. I¡ªI¡­¡±

    She pounded weakly at his chest as the memories overwhelmed her and she could spare no more breath for words.

    Deep in the analytical part of his brain his memories trudged up the word ¡°survivor¡¯s guilt¡±. Mitchell couldn¡¯t imagine the trauma she was trying to process. He knew the story of course, but it was almost academic to him. Like the stories of battles that he¡¯d read in war books after his grandfather had died. He knew that the books were recounting real tales of tragedy and human suffering, that the pictures of the living and the dead had been real people who had suffered unimaginable cruelty and violence. But they were words on the page, reprinted images in black and white and grainy color. Now Mitchell was watching first hand what that sort of trauma could do to a person, to the woman he loved.

    Watching Allora moan and sob, feeling her body twist itself as her grief manifested physically, and knowing that this distant enemy, this nameless person, Milandris, was the cause of it all, suddenly filled him with a rage so visceral that it almost overwhelmed his senses. He required several deep breaths of his own to regain his composure. Thankfully, Allora didn¡¯t notice as she was too lost in her own suffering to sense the shift that came over him.

    Milandris would pay for this, he vowed. Not just for Allora, but for all the suffering he had caused to others. For Lethelin¡¯s mother, for Davry¡¯s parents, for Kalros¡¯s shattered faith and the loss of his wife. For all of them and all the others out there who had had their lives ripped apart by this invader¡¯s avarice. And Mitchell would be the instrument of that justice and retribution.

    ¡°I am coming for you, you son of a bitch,¡± Mitchell vowed in his mind as he held Allora¡¯s shaking body. ¡°Like the vengeance of an angry god, I am coming.¡±

    Through his own volcanic cloud of righteous fury Mitchell noticed that Allora¡¯s breathing was evening out. He kissed the top of her head but didn¡¯t let her go. At long last she spoke, her voice still ragged and thready.

    ¡°Mitchell, what if it happens again? What if I fail you? What if¡­?¡± her voice cut off with a sharp gasp. ¡°I cannot ki¡­ cannot ki¡­ kill you Mitchell! Not you, not you.¡± Her head shook violently. ¡°Not my love!¡±

    Mitchell rocked her back and forth as the pain poured out of her like blood from a fresh wound. He said nothing, just rocked her as her sobs became whimpers. In time, her breathing slowed and her body went still. Mitchell didn¡¯t move though, just continued to cradle her. She had been quiet for so long that when she spoke it almost startled him, even though it was barely a whisper.

    ¡°In the pool before, when I opened my eyes, for a moment I thought I saw Davrys¡¯s face as I killed him. The light was in my eyes and for just a brief second it was as if my crime had returned.¡±

    Allora exhaled a shuddering breath.

    ¡°I fought so hard to keep my heart closed to you because if I failed again and I lost you, I knew I would not have the strength to go on. I thought if I pushed you away, if I ignored my feelings for you and your feelings for me that it would be alright. But I could not. And I do not want to. Not anymore. Not since I woke up in Luvari¡¯s cabin.¡±

    Allora sat up then and met his eyes, hers still moist but clear.

    ¡°I love you, Mitchell Allen. And¡­¡± a tiny smile quirked her lips and she sniffed.

    Even elves get runny noses when they cry, he noticed, idly.

    ¡°None of this means anything without you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s my line,¡± he said as he touched his head to hers.

    ¡°It is.¡±

    ¡°Just remember who said it first.¡±

    A short quick laugh erupted from her throat as she rested against him.

    ¡°Allora¡­¡± Mitchell began slowly. ¡°It¡¯s not my place to absolve you. I guess that would be Denass¡¯s job. But, knowing you as I do, I know that if there had been any other choice, you would have taken it. Never in my life have I met anyone with the determination and loyalty you have to Awen and the people here. If there had been a way to save him and yourself, you would have found it.¡±

    Mitchell could see her face begin to wilt as a fresh round of guilt began to overtake her but she got control of it this time.

    ¡°And you are not alone anymore,¡± Mitchell pressed on. ¡°If I have my way, you will never be alone again. Your burdens are mine. We go forward together or not at all.¡±

    Mitchell brought his lips to hers and they kissed almost fearfully.

    ¡°And I love you, Allora De Annen. I have loved you from the first moment I saw you. Did you know that?¡±

    ¡°I did not,¡± she whispered as her mouth began to kiss his jaw and then his cheek. ¡°But I would like to hear about it.¡±

    ¡°It took me awhile to understand that feeling,¡± he began. Mitchell¡¯s hands were in her hair now as her lips probed at the stubble on his neck and she moved down to his bare shoulder.

    ¡°I had never felt anything like it before. But you were the most striking woman I had ever seen. I knew then that I would do anything for you. I would follow you anywhere.¡±

    ¡°Do not tell Lethelin that,¡± Allora said with a giggle. Her breath was hot on his skin. Then she bit down lightly on the muscle of his shoulder.

    As her mouth worked at his bare flesh, the need that Mitchell felt turned into desire, then into a hunger that could no longer be ignored. She loved him. She¡¯d said it. And she wanted him just as badly as he wanted her. After literal months of patience, he would have her.

    He grabbed a handful of her glistening raven hair and pulled her up from where her mouth was beginning to explore his chest. His heart was hammering in his chest so hard he could feel it in his swelling cock.

    ¡°I want you, Allora.¡±

    Allora let out a sigh as her eyes rolled back in her head.

    ¡°You may have me, Mitchell,¡± she groaned. ¡°All of me. I am yours, now and forever.¡±

 Interlude (1)

    Their lips came together so hard as to be painful. Allora was whimpering with need as her arms came around his shoulders and her fingernails began to dig into his back. Mitchell was hardly quiet, either. He growling as his desire for her came exploding forth like a dam breaking.

    In a flash, his arms were around her waist and picked her up with ease. Much to his surprise, she was almost feather light. Allora¡¯s legs wrapped around him and she locked her ankles in place as their mouths devoured each other. The simple dress she wore bunched up at her thighs and she hadn¡¯t put the panties back on. His hands found the tender globes of her ass and he squeezed, drawing another squeak from her throat as she broke the kiss and began to bite and suckle at his neck, nipping at his flesh gently and sometimes not so gently.

    His own mouth found her neck and he reveled in the taste of her. The slightly acrid flavor of the soap was still heavy on her skin but, with his heightened senses, he could taste the woman beneath the perfume ¨C the pure, clean taste of her body. He breathed her in and let the flavors mingle on his tongue and it drove him wild. Mitchell¡¯s breath was coming hard through his nose as he let his passion loose. Distantly, Mitchell realized he sounded almost bestial, but Allora was matching his ardor, being just as vocal as he was.

    Holding her easily with one arm under her bare ass, Mitchell brought his other hand around and ripped the front of the dress down, once again exposing the glorious mounds of her breasts. He marveled at his body¡¯s new strength. With the improved physique his training and travel had given him, Allora felt like a child in his arms. The effects of the heart stone, no doubt.

    Lifting her up a little higher he brought her right nipple in line with his mouth and pulled it in. Allora wrapped her arms around his head and pulled him in tight, smashing his face deep into her cleavage as she gasped. She rested her face on the top of his head as she urged him on.

    ¡°Yes! Yessss!¡± she hissed as Mitchell teased the nipple ever so slightly between his teeth. Her hands grabbed fistfuls of his hair as his mouth began to explore all that glorious flesh. He put his lips and tongue to good use and after a few minutes she was writhing in his embrace, panting and watching as he looked for any as-yet untasted bit of skin. Then, without warning, she unlocked her legs and wiggled down. Mitchell let her go. It was her turn to use her mouth.

    She kissed him hard on the lips again and pulled at his lower lip almost to the point of pain, then began to work her way down, kissing and massaging with her fingers as she went. She let her fingertips slide over the ridges of his chest muscles and then his abs and obliques. When her fingers hit the waist of his pants, she looked up from where she was kissing around his naval and then began to pull them down. She had to back away to get the front part of the pants over the bulge in his cock and it popped up like it was spring loaded. Mitchell let out a groan of his own at being free.

    While Allora often blushed at Lethelin¡¯s bawdy humor and never made any jokes of a sexual nature at all, she didn¡¯t seem to have any qualms about what they were doing now. She was just as hungry for this as he was.

    On her knees in front of him, her face at the level of his crotch, she stared hungrily at his cock and he saw a little smile start at the corner of her mouth. She brought on hand up and gripped him at the base and stroked up the entire length, pausing to rub her thumb over the tip and spread out the moisture that was already there.

    Mitchell let out a shuddering breath as the sensations washed over him. Allora noticed and smiled.

    ¡°Does my lord like that?¡± she said, her tone playful.

    ¡°He does,¡± Mitchell said, his voice low.

    ¡°And this?¡±

    Allora¡¯s other hand came up and cupped his balls and began to tug.

    ¡°Mmhmmm,¡± he responded, his hips starting to thrust in time with her hand.

    The sight of her, bare chested and on her knees, was something he almost couldn¡¯t believe. The number of times something like this had played out in his fantasies over the last couple of months were too many to count. And here she was.

    ¡°I want your mouth, Lora,¡± he told her, his voice husky with need.

    ¡°My lord may have all of me,¡± she said with a little twinkle in her violet eyes.

    Licking her lips she parted her mouth and placed the head of his swollen cock in her mouth.

    ¡°Fuuuuck!¡± Mitchell cried out as he threw his head back.

    He heard Allora chuckle as much as she was able while she had him in her mouth and he looked down to see her staring back at him. He felt her tongue going to work on him and she sank her mouth as deep as she could on his shaft. She managed just over half his length when he felt himself at the back of her throat before slowly drawing herself back. She paused at the tip. Then repeated the process, this time using her hand in conjunction with her mouth and the sensations intensified.

    Mitchell placed his hands on the back of her head and guided her tempo, getting lost in the world of pleasure her mouth was bringing him. She accepted the pressure and allowed him to set the pace, both hands working. Her right hand moved in time with her mouth adding additional pressure, and her left hand continued its steady ministrations on his balls. It was bliss.

    Despite his best efforts, Mitchell felt his orgasm fast approaching. After so long without any real release, he didn¡¯t have the willpower to stop.

    ¡°Lora I¡¯m going to¡­ You¡¯re going to make me¡­¡± Mitchell realized then that he didn¡¯t know the word for orgasm. She understood well enough.

    Rather than stop she began making little mewling sounds and increased her pace, pushing herself deeper onto his cock. Mitchell¡¯s hands curled into fists in her hair and with an almost primal cry of pleasure, he exploded into her mouth. Her head stopped moving but her hands continued their work as she accepted his seed into her mouth.

    ¡°Oh, god! Ooooh, my god,¡± Mitchell half moaned, half screamed as he felt her work to swallow all that he had given her. His knees buckled then and he had to step back, coming free of Allora¡¯s mouth with a pop. He stumbled, nearly losing his footing, and then went down on one knee, his chest heaving as he struggled to regain his breath.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    Nearly level with Allora now, he saw her licking her lips and looking very satisfied.

    ¡°Thank you, my lord,¡± Allora said, grinning at his condition.

    ¡°Balls and taint, woman,¡± Mitchell said with a laugh. ¡°You always seemed so proper I honestly never expected that from you.¡±

    ¡°Mmm, what is improper about a woman pleasing her man?¡±

    She crawled over to him and started kissing his chest. Mitchell wrapped her in his arms and together they went down to the ground together. His hands exploring her and her body and hers exploring him just the same.

    The sky overhead was purple and Mitchell knew it was long past time when they should have returned, but he didn¡¯t care. They weren¡¯t finished yet.

    ¡°Nothing at all,¡± he said as he turned her over onto her back and began to kiss his way down her chest and to her taut stomach. ¡°I just wasn¡¯t sure what it would be like when we finally did this. I get hints with Lethelin but nothing from you.¡±

    She smiled playfully.

    ¡°I would not deny myself any pleasure with you, Mitchell. But I do not need to display my desires for everyone to see.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Mitchell replied, and continued running a trail down her body with his lips.

    It was now Allora¡¯s turn to grab handfuls of his hair as she began to writhe in anticipation. When Mitchell reached the waist of the dress that she still wore, he pulled it off and over her legs, then resumed his position. He kissed his way up her left thigh until he reached the shadowy place in the middle. Downy soft black hair greeted him and he could see she was just as wet as he had been hard.

    Mitchell kissed just to the left of her pussy, teasing her, then allowed his nose to brush her delicate folds as he moved to the right and kissed that soft spot where her leg joined her hips. He dragged his tongue up that crease and then kissed over the top of her pussy and back down the other side. It had the desired effect.

    Allora was thrusting her hips up and moaning every time his lips came into contact with her skin.

    ¡°Mitchell,¡± she pleaded.

    ¡°Say please,¡± he told her, drawing out the torment even longer.

    ¡°Please, my lord,¡± she moaned.

    Her head came up and her eyes were half closed, her chest heaving.

    ¡°Please,¡± she said once more.

    ¡°Good girl,¡± Mitchell told her and she got a strange look on her face upon hearing the compliment, but she smiled broadly.

    Mitchell brought his nose in and pressed it directly into her pussy. Allora gasped at the contact and moaned low in her throat as her hips pushed up to meet him. He inhaled the fresh scent of her and his cock, never having gone fully soft, twitched involuntarily. He extended a tongue, parted her folds and found her opening, drinking in the taste of her.

    ¡°Yes, my lord,¡± Allora groaned again and Mitchell slid his tongue upward, finding that clits on elven women were in the same place as on human women, much to his delight. He circled it, only allowing his tongue to graze it now and again and, before long, Allora was panting and twisting trying to get him to touch her most sensitive spot. Only after he felt her legs quivering did he grant her wish.

    He placed his tongue at the bottom of her opening, and slowly dragged it up through her folds and to the base of her clit and pushed his tongue a little dipper. She gasped and shudders ran through her body as she pushed herself hard into him. Then he began to drag his tongue up again, almost tugging her clit upward as he did so.

    ¡°Mitchell! My lord!¡± she panted. ¡°Please! More!¡±

    She was whimpering and moaning as the pressure built and then, suddenly, he flicked past her pearl and circled it before taking it into his mouth.

    Allora screamed and bucked into his mouth, her hands pulling his face so hard into her crotch that his nose hurt. As his tongue flicked at her swollen nub as she was rocking herself in time with him, her powerful legs clamping around his ears.

    ¡°Mitchell, I am going to cum!¡±

    ¡°Oh, so that was the word,¡± Mitchell thought to himself as he struggled not to break the rhythm he had established that was working so well. ¡±Svora.¡±

    ¡°Ahhh! Sweet sun!¡± Allora cried as her orgasm slammed into her.

    Mitchell stopped then, holding steady as her body trembled. Only when her thighs began to relax around his ears did he pull his head away. The lower half of his face was wet with their combined juices and she had tasted so good Mitchell thought he might be drunk on the flavor of her. He kissed her way up her stomach as her she came down off her high. Her arms fell limp and her head lolled to the side. A tired smile split her face as she breathed deep.

    ¡°You taste delicious,¡± Mitchell told her.

    He found a nipple and took it in his mouth as he continued to travel northward.

    ¡°Thank you, my lord,¡± she said dreamily.

    Mitchell reached her neck and her head turned to meet him and they kissed passionately. He slipped her arms underneath her and pulled her body tight to his.

    ¡°Take me, my lord,¡± she breathed into his neck as she felt Mitchell¡¯s hard cock press at her entrance. ¡°I am yours. Always.¡±

    Not needing any further encouragement, Mitchell found her opening and gently pushed in.

    They both groaned at the sensation and Allora clung to him tightly, her teeth digging into his shoulder and her nails sinking into his back.

    ¡°You¡¯re so tight,¡± Mitchell growled as he inched his way forward. It was like a fist around his cock.

    ¡°Mmmm, you are so big,¡± she panted as her legs wrapped around his waist once more, holding him fast.

    Mitchell chuckled at that. He didn¡¯t think he was that big, but it was always nice to hear.

    Allora continued to urge him on and finally he had completely buried himself inside of her. They simply held each other for a moment, both of then soaking in the sensation of being joined. Then Mitchell pulled himself slowly outward until only the tip remained inside of her, and paused.

    Allora moved to push herself up into him and he kept himself just out of reach. She groaned in obvious frustration.

    ¡°If my lord doesn¡¯t fuck me, I might just have to take him myself.¡±

    Mitchell brought himself down and touched his nose to hers.

    ¡°Say please,¡± he said, giving her an evil grin.

    Allora arched one of her delicate black eyebrows at him and gave him a playful pout.

    ¡°Please fuck me, my lord.¡±

    ¡°Good girl,¡± he whispered as he pushed his cock into her much faster this time.

    She cried out at the suddenness and her head rolled back.

    ¡°Please, my lord,¡± she gasped. ¡°Please, my lord!¡±

    Mitchell decided he could get used to this ¡®my lord¡¯ business.

    Once he realized that he wasn¡¯t going to hurt her with the more powerful strokes, he started going harder. She met him stroke for stroke, pushing her body into his until they were coming together with audible slapping sounds. Mitchell kissed her hard as he lost himself in the pure pleasure of taking her.

    ¡°Yes! Yes! Yes!¡± Allora was crying out with each thrust and he could feel her body start to tense underneath him.

    ¡°Come for your lord,¡± he growled to her.

    Allora¡¯s eyes went wide and her back arched up. Her breath caught in her throat and her second orgasm claimed her. He felt her grow tighter around his cock and he felt himself getting close as well. Rather than slow down, he increased the tempo, feeling that pressure begin to build in his balls.

    ¡°Are you mine? Are you my good girl?¡±

    Mitchell grabbed a fistful of hair as he pounded into her. He wasn¡¯t normally so aggressive with his partners but something about her calling him ¡°my lord¡± so much was making him feel especially dominant. And, judging by her reaction, she was enjoying it just as much as he was.

    ¡°Yes!¡± she cried. ¡°I am my lord¡¯s good girl!¡± she groaned.

    That sent Mitchell over the edge and he spasmed hard.

    ¡°Fuuuck,¡± he cried out for the second time.

    He tried to keep going but it was too intense and he had to stop. He went down on his elbows and rested his head on her shoulder. They were both breathing hard.

    They lay like that for a long moment, simply basking in the afterglow, before Mitchell spoke.

    ¡°I love you, Allora.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± she said softly as her fingers stroked his hair. ¡°And I love you, my lord.¡±

 Chapter 62

    It was full dark by the time they emerged back into the clearing around the cottage. They¡¯d cleaned up after their love making and that had led to another quick round with Allora bent over the edge of the pool and Mitchell taking her from behind, but he wasn¡¯t about to complain. He was actually impressed at his own stamina and wondered if it was a result of not having had sex for months, his seemingly insatiable hunger for Allora, the heart stone making his body stronger, or a combination of the three. He¡¯d remarked about it to Allora on their way back.

    ¡°Likely a little bit of all three, but mostly the latter,¡± she¡¯d said with a small laugh. ¡°The heart stone makes your body more of whatever it is.¡±

    Her hand traveled down and she gripped his ass firmly.

    ¡°And I am sure that, between Lethelin and I, we will put you through your paces, so you will need it.¡±

    Mitchell had laughed at that but then felt a twinge of fear in his gut.

    ¡°Is it really okay to sleep with Lethelin, too?¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes. I remember you saying that such relationships were uncommon on your world. But here, there are no such restrictions. If someone wants to join a group relationship, all that matters is that all the other members approve. And I approve of Lethelin. Mostly.¡±

    Mitchell had known about the polyamorous nature of relationships here for a while but, raised as he was, it was still hard to accept that he was going to get two women. He knew Allora wouldn¡¯t lie about it or hide her feelings if something was wrong, however, so he decided to go with it and see what happened.

    ¡°Will, um¡­¡± Mitchell paused, wondering if now was the time to bring it up. Just ahead he could see the lights from the cottage through the trees. ¡°Will you and Lethelin be sleeping with each other also?¡±

    Rather than get angry or look insulted, she looked more thoughtful.

    ¡°I do not know,¡± she replied. ¡°I have not had much experience with women but I will admit that she is very attractive. I guess we can see what happens. But there is no dragon on the roof.¡±

    She leaned up and kissed his cheek.

    ¡°I think Lethelin would be willing, though. Sometimes I see her watching me as much as you do.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no dragon? What?¡±

    ¡°Ah, I am sorry,¡± she smiled. ¡°It is a saying. It means there is no problem, so do not worry about it. What will happen will happen.¡±

    Mitchell smiled at that and filed it away to try and use if a situation presented itself. He still had some trouble with the curses as they felt weird to him, but he was slowly getting a knack for it.

    Once they broke the tree line, Lethelin looked up from the little table she¡¯d been sitting at, polishing the bow that Gilriel had gifted her their second night. Apparently, it was quite valuable, made of the special wood they¡¯d told him about before. Lethelin had almost gotten on her knees and bowed to their host at the offering but Gilriel had told her it was no problem; she was never much of an archer and it had been sitting idle for years.

    As they walked up to her, hand in hand, both smiling, he saw Lethelin break into a grin as well. Mitchell saw her give Allora the once over and she noticed the dress that was barely holding together after Mitchell had ripped it open in the heat of the moment.

    She looked over at Mitchell then.

    ¡°Food¡¯s waiting inside. We kept it warm for you.¡±

    Then she arose, walked up to Allora with a conspiratorial grin, grabbed her free hand, and started to pull her away.

    ¡°I need to borrow our knight for a bit.¡±

    Allora resisted, laughing, and said, ¡°I¡¯m hungry, too!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll be fine!¡± Lethelin said and pulled harder.

    ¡°Go, I¡¯ll see you inside,¡± Mitchell told Allora, who was already blushing.

    She went and before they¡¯d even gone a few meters, their heads were near pressed together as they walked and moments later, he heard giggling.

    Mitchell shook his head as he watched them walk away. In this world or his, women would still be women, it seemed. Leaving them be, he followed his nose around to the side door on the cabin and went in to eat. He was famished.

    ***

    ¡°You said it yourself,¡± Lethelin said, her tone exasperated. ¡°You¡¯re the most wanted woman in Awenor. You can¡¯t just go waltzing into a town. It is better that I go. No one knows who I am, and Mitchell is mostly unknown as well. You, on the other hand, stick out like a High Sun dancer at a Halik light baptism! Even if I found enough sejic root to color your hair, I can¡¯t do anything for your eyes. Plus, the way you walk.¡±

    ¡°What is wrong with the way I walk?¡± Allora demanded.

    ¡°You walk like you own every place that your eyes can see. You may not actually be a noble but you¡¯d never know it by the way you carry yourself. I could shave you bald and fashion you a crutch, and you¡¯d still walk like the High Lady of Iletish.¡±

    Allora looked to Mitchell.

    ¡°I do not! Do I?¡±

    ¡°You kinda do,¡± Mitchell had to agree. ¡°People notice you when you go places. Even if they don¡¯t know who you are, they know you are someone important. We can¡¯t risk it when we¡¯re this close to Lorivin. We¡¯ll leave at dawn and be back as quick as we can. Straight to Clayfaire, pick up a few things, listen for rumors, and straight back. And Vras will come with us. Once we¡¯re back, we¡¯ll head to Lorivin.

    Mitchell pulled her in and kissed the top of her head.

    ¡°It¡¯s a good plan,¡± he said.

    ¡°Fine,¡± she said at least. Then she spun to Lethelin. ¡°But if anything happens to him, I wi¨C¡±

    ¡°I know, I know,¡± Lethelin cut her off waving her hands. ¡°Horrible death, take my head, blood everywhere. We¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Despite herself, even Allora smiled. Then, she surprised everyone by turning to where Vras was lounging in his customary spot beside the fire. She kneeled down and scratched him behind the ears. He opened bleary eyes, having gorged himself earlier on some sort of large guinea pig-like creature called a goha. Apparently, they were quite a nuisance for Gilriel as they liked to try to get into her garden and eat whatever they could dig up, so she¡¯d actually been pleased to see the remains of the corpse just past the tree line north of the cottage.

    ¡°Take care of him, Vras. I am trusting you to protect him.¡±

    Vras blinked, looked from Allora to Mitchell, then back. After a moment, the gratha flicked his ears and leaned into the scratches before setting his head back down in his paws and closing his glittering green eyes.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Lethelin shouted. ¡°What am I? A bucket of chum?¡±

    ***

    ¡°So this thieves¡¯ guild thing is pretty serious, I take it?¡± Mitchell asked Lethelin between bites of the bread and cheese that was serving as their lunch the next day.

    Lethelin paused in her chewing and gave him a nervous look, then swallowed and took a drink of the sweet wine they¡¯d packed.

    ¡°A little bit,¡± she finally said. ¡°Lots of lower-level thieves, fences, smugglers, and the like work for the guild on the periphery, but they aren¡¯t really in the guild.¡±

    ¡°Is it hard to get in?¡±

    She looked uncomfortable but she nodded. Mitchell waited but when it became obvious that she was going to offer up nothing more he let out a long, slow breath.

    ¡°I guess this is happening now,¡± Mitchell told himself, and girded his loins for an argument.

    ¡°Look, Leth. I know there is a lot about yourself that you haven¡¯t revealed. Mostly, I respect your privacy. Like I told you before, I trust you to tell me things that I might need to know. But if you¡¯re in this group then you¡¯re in this group. I¡¯m trusting you with my life. So is Allora. So is Awen. And you can trust us with yours. But you are going to have to give a little sometimes. That¡¯s how relationships work. If you¡¯re in, you¡¯ve got to be all the way in.¡±

    He had not been able to fully bind Allora to him without her finally revealing what she¡¯d been hiding for so long, and Mitchell knew that he needed to push through this barrier with Lethelin as well. She had proven herself loyal and while he had no doubt she would defend him with her life, and would fight as hard as he and Allora would, it was her trust that he needed now. No more half measures.

    ¡°You have to trust me, Lethelin.¡±

    Her face went from cautious to flat at that remark.

    ¡°I¡¯m here, aren¡¯t I?¡± she blurted out, her voice hard. ¡°Can¡¯t that be enough? I could have left you all a thousand times over but I didn¡¯t. I could have betrayed you as soon as we crossed the mountains but I didn¡¯t. I even made nice with your pet!¡±

    ¡°I know you never would betray us. But that¡¯s not enough,¡± Mitchell gave her a hard look of his own. ¡°Not anymore.¡±

    ¡°I¨C¡± Lethelin started but shut her mouth and looked away. Her leg started bouncing and she was twisting her hands again.

    ¡°We¡¯re going into Lorivin soon,¡± he pressed on. ¡°You have secret connections neither I nor Allora know anything about. You hid your moon child abilities from us for weeks. I don¡¯t even know if there¡¯s more you¡¯re not sharing about what you can do. Had Luvari not told me about them, you probably would never have said anything. Even now, I don¡¯t have any idea what else you can do. You never talk about it and when we ask you say nothing."

    ¡°I only have the one ability,¡± she said, but even that sounded like she was struggling to admit it to him.

    ¡°You say that now. You could have told me weeks ago. You reference your life before all this once in a while, but never in much detail. You talk about a mentor, but when I¡¯ve asked in the past, you change the subject or refuse to answer. Your stiletto has a name. Why? Is that important? I don¡¯t know. Your cloak. It impresses everyone who recognizes it, but you won¡¯t say exactly how you came by it. Some enchanter? According to Allora, Gilriel is a master at that stuff and even she was impressed as hell by it. Then there¡¯s your token and your bow work, which Gilriel says is also excellent. But when asked about that, you say little. Where did you learn? Who taught you? You never served in the military or the guard. But you won¡¯t tell us anything. This won¡¯t do, Leth.¡±

    Lethelin had crossed her arms and when her eyes met his again, they were glistening chips of emerald ice.

    ¡°Trusting people is how you get killed,¡± she said, her voice hard. ¡°You lean on them, expect them to be there for you, and then they aren¡¯t. They abandon you! I swore my blade to you. I swore my life to you until the job is done. Why isn¡¯t that enough?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to abandon you, Lethelin. I wouldn¡¯t abandon you anymore than I would leave Allora. You should know that by now.¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    ¡°All that will change when you¡¯re at the palace,¡± she almost spat the words.

    Mitchell was taken aback.

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going to be the bloody monarch, Mitchell! Balls and fucking taint!¡±

    ¡°So?¡±

    She glared at him like he was some sort of halfwit.

    ¡°Assuming we retake the throne and you get control of the city, you will be surrounded by rich, powerful, beautiful women and men. You¡¯ll have more partners to bed than you know what to do with. I know what happens to me, then.¡±

    ¡°Wait a minute,¡± Mitchell paused her with a raised hand. ¡°I have no interest in men.¡±

    ¡°Whatever! Just the women then. Humans, elves, dwarves, orcs, and more races besides. All more beautiful than me, more educated, more refined. Diplomats, scholars, warriors, mages, all of them. Strutting around in their fancy clothes like glitter fish. And you¡¯ll have Allora next to you, your perfect little princess. Then it will be so long, Leth, take your coin and shove off like a good little dock whore, there you go. Back to the boats with you. It happens to dock petals all the time. They would meet some rich merchant or ship captain who would promise to take them away from life on their backs and then he was gone with the next tide.¡±

    ¡°Dock petals?¡±

    ¡°Whores!¡±

    Lethelin was full on in tears now, her hands gesticulating wildly. Mitchell could only stare at her, stunned.

    ¡°And that¡¯s fine, my mother didn¡¯t raise a fool. River slugs don¡¯t swim in the coral. This is a job. That¡¯s all it is. It doesn¡¯t matter if I love you or even if you love me, too. Because once this is all done with, you¡¯ll be monarch and I¡¯ll just be some piece of Varset trash you had some fun with. So, if it¡¯s all the same to you, I¡¯ll keep my secrets! You¡¯ve got my body, and I¡¯ll even bed you willingly, but what¡¯s up here,¡± she tapped her head as her eyes flashed through the tears. ¡°That belongs to me and only me. That keeps me safe and it keeps me alive. Nobody gets that.¡±

    Mitchell was dumbfounded. He could only watch, speechless, as Lethelin got up and stormed off through the trees. She¡¯d left her pack so he knew she wasn¡¯t running away. That meant she just needed some time so he let her go.

    Mitchell felt a bump at his leg and looked down to see Vras staring up at him expectantly. That usually meant he wanted to talk.

    ¡°Is something wrong? I know you can¡¯t be hungry yet, you ate a whole goha before we left this morning.¡±

    ¡°Why is Maula¡¯s face wet? There is no rain.¡±

    ¡°Is Maula your name for Lethelin?¡±

    Ear flick.

    ¡°She stalks well. I have watched. Not as good as gratha, but she kills well for a tar two legs. Her claws are sharp. She is Maula.¡±

    Tar, Mitchell remembered, was the Waivian word for mortal. And it sounded like ¡®maula¡¯ might mean hunter, or something similar. He would have to ask Allora and Gilriel when they got back.

    ¡°She is sad. When tar are sad, in pain, and sometimes when we are happy, water comes from our eyes. She is sad because she thinks I will betray her trust.¡±

    ¡°What is ¡®betray¡¯?¡±

    ¡°It means when you lie to someone about something you promised to them and it causes them pain or causes them to get hurt.¡±

    ¡°What is ¡®lie¡¯?¡±

    Mitchell blinked.

    ¡°It¡¯s when you say something that isn¡¯t true.¡±

    Vras bared his fangs and hissed and he looked up at Mitchell, meeting his eyes squarely.

    ¡°Did you¡­lie¡­ to Maula?¡±

    ¡°No, I would never. But I think others have in the past and it hurt her. She is afraid to trust me.¡±

    Vras¡¯s body suddenly got very tense and his lips started to curl up around his fangs and he began to growl. The hair on Mitchell¡¯s whole body stood on end at the sound and he suddenly felt like he needed his sword. Vras¡¯s eyes bored into his.

    ¡°Did you lie to me?¡±

    Mitchell swallowed, his mind racing. Where had this come from? Then he remembered the strange way Vras had looked at him when he¡¯d mentioned a few nights ago that Gilriel didn¡¯t believe that Vras would not hurt anyone. He had no concept of lying. Then it hit him. Gratha--shadow cats--were from the Fey lands. Fey couldn¡¯t lie. Maybe gratha couldn¡¯t lie, either.

    ¡°I have never lied to you, Vras.¡± Mitchell said, meeting the cat¡¯s angry emerald glare. ¡°And I never will. I vow to only speak truth to you.¡±

    Vras¡¯s diamond-hard stare searched Mitchell¡¯s face and he inhaled several times. Then, as suddenly as the moment had come over him, it passed. Vras relaxed, pressed his head against Mitchell¡¯s shoulder, and then walked off in the direction Lethelin had gone.

    ¡°I will watch over Maula until she returns,¡± the cat said as he bounded up effortlessly into a tree.

    It was only when the creature had vanished into the canopy above that Mitchell realized he was sweating and his shirt was already wet against his skin.

    ¡°Balls and fucking taint,¡± he said to himself.

    ***

    It took about an hour for Lethelin to return. Mitchell had waited patiently for her, knowing that she would be safe enough with Vras on overwatch.

    ¡°Welcome back,¡± he said casually. ¡°We¡¯ve still got plenty of daylight left if you¡¯re okay to keep going. I think we will have to cancel our plans to make it there by nightfall though. We¡¯ll have to rough it.¡±

    That had been a long shot as it had taken them two days from Clayfaire to find the grove to begin with, but Gilriel said that¡¯s because they weren¡¯t going in a straight line. If they pushed hard and headed straight for the town, it would be possible to make it there but it would be after sundown by the time they did. He and Lethelin had started out that morning attempting to make the run in a single day, but that hadn¡¯t worked out.

    Lethelin looked at him briefly as she began to gather her things up.

    ¡°Sure,¡± she said, her voice tight and clipped.

    Mitchell stood up and began to gather up what few things were still laid out from their brief lunch but before they got moving, he grabbed her gently by the arm.

    She looked down at his hand and then up into his eyes. Hers were still a little puffy from her earlier outburst and he could see red around the edges.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what happened before, Leth. I don¡¯t know what other monarchs did, either. I don¡¯t know and I don¡¯t care. I also don¡¯t care who all these smart, pretty glitter fish at the palace are. We have fought together and bled together. I¡¯ve saved your life and you¡¯ve saved mine. That means something.¡±

    Lethelin looked away from him again, but she didn¡¯t pull her arm free.

    ¡°I want you at my side, Lethelin. You and Allora both. Always. Do you understand? When this is over, if we¡¯re all still alive, you are free to go. But if you do, know that it won¡¯t be because I pushed you aside. I love you just as much as I love Allora and I will be devastated if you choose to go.

    Lethelin looked back at him then and her gaze was searching.

    ¡°I think you really believe that,¡± she said at last.

    She didn¡¯t sound sad. She didn¡¯t sound angry. She sounded¡­ defeated. Mitchell¡¯s heart broke a little at hearing that hopelessness in her voice.

    ¡°I do.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± was all she said and she pulled away and started walking toward Clayfaire.

    They walked largely in silence for the next several hours and Mitchell let it be. Similar to Allora, he knew he had to let this play out. The ball was in her court, so to speak and she needed to decide if she was going to be on the team or not.

    They picked a spot by a stream to camp just before sundown. Vras did a wide circuit of the area and said that there were no signs of anything dangerous nearby, so it should be safe enough. Mitchell made a small fire while Lethelin rinsed off some of the vegetables they¡¯d brought from Gilriel¡¯s stores. The meal was cooked mostly in silence and it was quite good. He sauteed the vegetables that he didn¡¯t remember the names for with some salted meat that Gilriel said came from an animal called a takir, which sounded like a deer analogue. Still, even with his limited cooking skills, it was delicious.

    Once the meal was done and they¡¯d cleaned up, Lethelin sat next to him by the fire and joined him for a cup of tea. They both stared at the dancing flames for a bit and Mitchell could see that she was pondering. He had his own pondering to do, so he left her undisturbed.

    Tomorrow should be an interesting day. He was going to be doing a little bit of recon. In some ways it was like his first real mission. He was both excited and nervous. The girls had assured him that, while his accent was still a little rough around the edges, he shouldn¡¯t be too noticeable. People would just assume he was from some little backward village in northern Awenor or something. Just make sure he didn¡¯t mix any ¡®Engish¡¯ into his Common as he still had a habit of doing sometimes.

    Lethelin suddenly shifted beside him and pulled out Mira.

    ¡°My mentor¡¯s name was Alvi,¡± she said. ¡°He was a moon child, also. We can sense each other, sometimes. Some are better at it than others. But he was in one of the gangs and they had a run-in with the gang I was in. Nothing serious, just a dispute over a gambling den. A few of them died, a few of us died, but that¡¯s how the line gets cast sometimes. And I didn¡¯t know what I was doing. It was the second time I¡¯d run away from home and I¡¯d joined up with the gang just a couple of weeks before. But he sensed me and he came looking for me.

    ¡°We all have different talents,¡± Lethelin explained. ¡°Some are like mine or his, and can be used for less savory things, and others not. He said he met a moon child once whose talent was getting babies to stop crying.¡±

    She snorted at the idea, and made to continue on when Vras suddenly appeared from her left and sat down, placing his head on her thigh and looking up at her. She went stiff as a board and her breath caught in her throat but Vras only blinked languidly at her, his tentacles folding down on his back as he watched and listened.

    Mitchell felt her shudder as she tried to get her lungs working again and he held her hand to try and help her calm down. It worked and he felt her slowly unclench. After clearing her throat a few times, she continued, her voice only trembling a little.

    ¡°His talent was sussing out truth from lies. He only needed a few minutes with you and then he would know a lie before it even left your lips. He could have worked for the crown with a talent like that, or some rich merchant who would have paid him more gold than he knew what to do with to sit in on negotiations, but Alvi said none of that ever appealed to him. He was born on the docks, a dock rat through and through, and he liked it there. But he found me, told me what I was, and offered to help me find my talent and learn to use it.¡±

    Mitchell stayed quiet, not wanting to risk her changing her mind by asking questions.

    ¡°He was one of the best blade hands I¡¯ve ever seen. I told him that it must be a part of his talent, too, because he could do things with a blade that didn¡¯t seem natural. Alvi said it was just practice. ¡®Some kids get hilung sticks to play with when theys little, I gots me a blade¡¯ he would tell me.¡±

    She smiled at the memory and was quiet for a time before continuing. Mitchell didn¡¯t bother asking what a hilung stick was.

    ¡°He said he fell in love once, when he was a young man. With a wave dancer woman.¡±

    Then, remembering that Mitchell would have no idea what a wave dancer was, she thankfully explained.

    ¡°They¡¯re a sort of nomadic tribe that stick primarily to the water. Live most of their lives on their boats. You often see them in ports. They¡¯re highly sought after traders. One such ship came into Varset once, he said. It was called The Thirsty Blade. He said he¡¯d only been about fourteen high suns old at the time, was only beginning to figure out he had a gift, and was just doing pickpocketing work on the docks, stealing enough to get a hot meal, pay protection to one of the more established gangs, or maybe even a night at one of the lower-end brothels.

    ¡°At fourteen?¡± Mitchell said, somewhat shocked.

    Lethelin looked at him and grinned a little.

    ¡°Girls at those kinds of places often don¡¯t much care as long as you¡¯ve got the coin and some of them wouldn¡¯t be much older to boot.¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± he said, understanding.

    ¡°Anyway, Alvi said he was sitting on some crates trying to look lazy and unnoticeable so he could scout out marks and signal his crew who to target as they left the wharf, when the Thirsty Blade slid into the berth next to where he¡¯d posted up. It was a fine-looking ship, but no more so than any of the other wave dancer vessels. But then he saw her. He said she was older, maybe sixteen or seventeen high suns, and she was balanced on one of the booms, just hanging off a rope with her toes on the beam, watching the harbor as the ship docked. The sun was setting behind her and it looked like she was on fire, he said.

    ¡°Wave dancers don¡¯t wear much and she was near naked as the rest of her people and Alvi said he¡¯d never seen a woman more beautiful in his life. Said it was like Vish herself had come down and taken the form of a young girl. Long raven black hair, full breasts, eyes dark like living obsidian. Olive skinned and firm, he said.¡±

    ¡°How did he introduce himself? Did they fall in love, have kids, all that?¡±

    Lethelin shook her said.

    ¡°He never spoke a word to her. Wave dancer children aren¡¯t usually allowed off the boats alone until after their eighteenth high sun. When she was off the ship she was always accompanied and there was no way they would let a dock rat like him anywhere near her. All he ever learned was that her name was Miralescent Ne Okirazia. He said it meant waters of heaven in the old tongue.

    ¡°The Thirsty Blade was docked in Varset for four days and he never left the wharf. He waited all that time just in the hopes of catching a glimpse of her. Ate scraps he could steal without leaving the docks, whatever his crew would bring him, he barely slept. Then the ship sailed away and he never saw her again.¡±

    Lethelin handed Mitchell the stiletto. It was a beautiful piece. Mitchell was no expert, but even to his untrained eye he could appreciate the hard work and skill that had gone into its making. As he really looked at it now, he could see things he¡¯d missed before. There was etching on the cross guard made to resemble waves. At the crest of each wave there were tiny diamonds placed into the steel, barely bigger than grains of sand. But they glittered as they caught the firelight. Mitchell couldn¡¯t even fathom how something like that was possible.

    As he followed the pattern towards the center, he saw there was a tiny ship engraved into the steel of the handle as well. Were it not for his improved vision, he wasn¡¯t sure if he would have been able to make it out but, whatever the reason, he could.

    Mitchell could see each individual rope of the ship. He could see the individual pieces of wood that made up the hull. And there, standing on the boom, was the form of a woman with two tiny black gemstone eyes.

    He then noticed a thin line of text in a language he didn¡¯t understand that ran down the center of the blade ¨C delicate and flowing lines of script that almost looked like gentle waves themselves.

    ¡°What does this say?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Waivian. I can¡¯t actually read it, but it says, ¡®To the waters of heaven I commend my soul¡¯.¡±

    ¡°I never realized how beautiful it was,¡± he told her honestly as he handed it back to her.

    ¡°It was his gift to me when he died,¡± she said quietly. ¡°He could have died in a palace surrounded by wealth and women, but he died in a flop house at the docks, and this was all he had with him. It was all he ever really cared about. Well, it and me. I was like a daughter to him. I think he liked to imagine that I was the daughter he and the real Mira could have had. And in a way, he was like a father to me. He taught me to use a blade, taught me how to be a proper thief, and got me into the guild. I learned how to sing locks open, how to scale a wall, how to trip up perimeter wards, how to cut a man but not kill him or stab him so he dies days later, either with my blade or with poison. How to kill a man clean, or how to kill a man messy. And he helped me learn my gift and master it.¡±

    ¡°I wish I could have met him.¡±

    ¡°Me, too.¡±

    Before them the wood crackled and popped and the small line of smoke drifted lazily up into the heavens. They sat in silence watching the flames and listening to the night sounds, her hand still in his. A moment later she rested her head on his shoulder and he leaned against her just the same.

    It was a start.

 Chapter 63

    The little town of Clayfaire was pretty much like Mitchell had always imagined a small fantasy medieval town would be like. Squat wood and stone buildings, built in a vaguely European style, although the people here did seem to have a penchant for ornate roof decorations that he could make out even from the forest. Wooden carvings of animals and people seemed to dot most rooftops with some even having decorations on each individual tile.

    They came out from under cover of the canopy around four hours after dawn, following the road that led to the town walls. It had been decided that approaching from the road would be a little less suspicious than emerging from the forest, so once they got close, and with orders for Vras to stay behind and stay out of sight, they¡¯d circled the town until they came to where a rode cut through the forest.

    As they neared the gates, Mitchell took a chance and hooked Lethelin¡¯s fingers in his and, thankfully, she didn¡¯t pull away. Despite her story last night, she wasn¡¯t very talkative this morning and he opted not to try to push her further by pressing for anything new for a while. Given how strongly she¡¯d reacted, Mitchell suspected that talking so much about herself had been difficult and she might be experiencing regret. So, as he had discovered so well with Allora, the best thing he could do with such strong women, was to give them the space to come to decisions on their own. Push them too hard and they would resist merely on principle. Never offer help unless they asked for it.

    It was an oddity about women that Mitchell had never quite figured out. Sometimes, when a woman would have some issue or problem, she didn¡¯t want you to fix it for her and she didn¡¯t want help, she only wanted you to listen and sympathize. To Mitchell¡¯s mind, if you brought someone in on your problem that meant you needed help or advice. But it wasn¡¯t always so with the women he¡¯d known. Sometimes it was best to simply hear them out, give them some space, and be there if they needed the support. While there might be women out there that were always waiting for a man to come rescue them, Allora and Lethelin were not those women and that was something he was very grateful for.

    Suddenly Mitchell¡¯s ears started ringing and then, clear as day, he heard Gilriel¡¯s voice as if she were standing right beside him.

    ¡°Mitchell, have you made it to Clayfaire? Is everything well? You can reply to this message.¡±

    Mitchell was so shocked he nearly fell over his own feet as he whirled around to see where the voice had come from, but Gilriel was nowhere to be seen.

    ¡°Balls and taint!¡± Lethelin cried out, almost as startled as by his sudden movement as he was by the voice. Luckily they were alone on the road and there was no one to notice. ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡±

    ¡°Did you hear that?¡±

    Lethelin looked around, releasing his hand and reaching for Mira.

    ¡°No, I just hear the sounds of the town. What did you hear?¡±

    ¡°I heard Gilriel. Like she was standing right beside me, speaking directly into my ear.¡±

    Lethelin relaxed then and let out a short laugh.

    ¡°It¡¯s a message spell. She¡¯s trying to contact you. The spell should be good for one return message. But it has to be short. Do you feel the tingling in your ears?¡±

    That information brought Mitchell up short.

    ¡°It¡¯s a spell? You can do that?¡±

    ¡°Sure. Do you feel the tingle?¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡±

    Mitchell reached up and rubbed at his ears. It was not unlike the pins and needles you got when your leg fell asleep, but not as intense.

    ¡°The spell is waiting for a response. It will last a minute or two, so you should probably answer soon.

    ¡°What do I do?¡±

    ¡°Picture the face of the one who sent you the message, and then speak the reply as if she were standing next to you. I can¡¯t cast it myself, of course, but I¡¯ve done jobs with casters before who would use it. You don¡¯t need mana to respond, only to send. Keep it short, though. Twenty-five or thirty words, max. Anymore and the message usually fails.¡±

    Mitchell nodded that he understood and imagined Gilriel¡¯s face in his mind.

    ¡°Yes, we¡¯re approaching the town now. All is well.¡±

    Once the image of Gilriel dropped from his mind, the tingle in his ears vanished.

    ¡°That is awesome! I need to learn that spell.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not in your spell book already? It¡¯s basic, as I said.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Mitchell said, wobbling his head. ¡°I definitely would have seen it.¡±

    ¡°You might not have the right mana to cast it.¡±

    ¡°What kind do I need?¡±

    ¡°How should I know? But if it¡¯s not in the spell book, that¡¯s probably why.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± Mitchell said, suddenly dejected. ¡°Shit.¡±

    ¡°Hey, none of that now. None of your Engish in town!¡±

    It was only then that he realized he¡¯d sworn in his own language, rather than a Common equivalent. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he said and grimaced. ¡°No English from here on out.¡±

    ¡°Good boy,¡± she said with her old playful grin. ¡°Don¡¯t think I won¡¯t thump you like we were back in the wagon. Because I will.¡±

    She brought her thumb and middle finger together and made to actually do just that, and he danced back, laughing.

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am. I promise!¡±

    Just like that, she seemed to slip back into her old self. She gave him a side glance and held out her hand.

    ¡°Come on, we¡¯ll find an inn and get to work.

    He laced his fingers between hers and then pulled her in for a kiss. It was slow and gentle.

    ¡°Maybe one with a big bed,¡± he whispered to her as she leaned into him.

    ¡°Ha! If you¡¯re lucky.¡±

    Then she pulled away laughing.

    Before she got out of arm¡¯s reach, he lunged forward and landed a quick slap on her tight, leather-clad ass, making her jump.

    ¡°Ouch!¡± She turned back to glare at him, but he also saw there was something hungry in her eyes which gave him some ideas.

    ¡°After you,¡± he told her, nodding toward the gates.

    ***

    They did find an inn easily enough, a few hundred meters through the gates and towards what served as the town square. It was a squat, three-story building called The Sleeping Giant Inn and Tavern. It was made of river stone and a honey-colored wood that had started to turn dark with age. But the ground around it was clear, with various topiary well-tended and it looked in good repair. Even the sign had been repainted recently. So, whoever owned it cared about it enough ¨C and had the funds ¨C to keep up appearances.

    Once he¡¯d worked out the meaning of the words on the hanging sign, his eyes went wide.

    ¡°Are there giants here?¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡± Lethelin looked up at him from where she¡¯d been scanning around, then saw where his gaze was pointed. ¡°Oh, no. Not anymore at least. There are some very old tales that talk about how giants used to live here, but there was a great war between them and the dragons and all the giants were wiped out. It¡¯s a really old story, though, so who knows if it¡¯s actually true.¡±

    They had gotten a couple of looks from the locals as they wondered in. Mitchell¡¯s sevith stood out, of course, but didn¡¯t draw any comments, although he did see a couple of sets of eyes widen as they counted the stones. Not that Mitchell knew how to cast much. At present, he was up to six spells and was working on a couple of others, but they didn¡¯t know that.

    As for Lethelin, besides being beautiful, her cloak looked nondescript, still that same forest green it had been since they¡¯d left the mountains behind, and seeing anyone carrying a bow, especially walking through the woods on foot, would not be remarkable. She did seem more at ease with the weapon on her back, though. Her bow had been destroyed in the fight that freed them, and Mitchell knew that being without it and her rapier had caused her no end of annoyance since they¡¯d met. But she¡¯d said this one was far superior, so it more than made up for it.

    Glancing around as they closed the distance to the inn, Mitchell guessed it to hold less than a thousand people inside the walls which looked more decorative than functional. Gate houses were boarded up, stairs to upper levels were in various levels of collapse, and thick weeds sprouted up around the base and doorways. Lethelin said it had probably been a generation or more since anything serious attacked the town so there was little need for keeping the walls manned or in decent repair.

    She reminded him that they weren¡¯t deep into the Shadow Glen, still just the outskirts, really, and the truly nasty things lived farther in. Trolls, tribes of frog men and goblins, giant spiders, lesser elementals, even harpies, as well as forest and river drakes, or so the stories said. The Shadow Glen was mostly wild and untamed. As long as the monsters didn¡¯t wander too far outside the woods, the rangers and the knights had left well enough alone. Lethelin said that occasionally bounties were posted for a hunt, even as far away as Varset, but it was dangerous work and not many took them up on it.

    Before Milandris, these outer parts of the forest were patrolled pretty heavily to keep the nasty things from gaining a foothold and spreading out into the settled lands. Even if whoever was in charge of the rangers these days wasn¡¯t as diligent, it would be a while before the darker things of the forest crept back out.

    ¡°We should be safe here,¡± Lethelin said quietly as they approached the inn¡¯s large oaken door. ¡°If a squad of soldiers or mercenaries come through while we''re here, we¡¯re no one to them. If we keep our heads down, then we should be out of here by tomorrow. Maybe the day after if there¡¯s some extra information we want to tease out.¡±

    Mitchell nodded his understanding, and they entered the inn together.

    Inside was a large common area that was dominated by a fire pit sunk a few feet into the river stone floor and which currently held the roasting carcass of something about the size of a pony. There was a stout, bare-armed dwarf with skin the color of river clay clad in a leather apron sitting off to the side of the pit next to a large handle and crank that was connected to a chain. Mitchell saw that it was connected to the gear wheel of the spit, meant to turn the animal whenever he deemed it ready. The bottom of the pit was thick with coals and the radiated heat created a noticeable shimmer in the air. The air itself was several degrees warmer than the outside, but not as bad as he thought it should be as he took in the size of the fire pit. Then he allowed his gaze to explore the rest of the inn.

    The central hall opened up all the way to the top, and he could see both upper floors and the ceiling above, braced by thick tresses the same honey color as the rest of the wood in this place. And in the roof, he could see actual skylights that were cranked open to let the smoke out and which was pulling a steady flow of fresh air in from the windows at his back.

    Beyond the fire pit to his left, he could make out what was clearly a bar, only not like one he¡¯d ever seen before. It sat at three different heights with three different stool sizes.

    Beyond the fire pit was a large dining area, and he could see twelve or fifteen tables of various sizes, only a couple of which had any customers at this early hour. There were carvings on almost every surface of various animals, beasts, monsters, and the humanoid races engaged in everything from pitched battles with each other to tilling fields and weaving baskets. Everywhere he looked, there was some type of display. It was also obvious to tell that it much of it had been done by different hands, as almost no two tableaux were alike. It was both beautiful and dizzying to look at.

    Mitchell finally brought his eyes back to the dwarf at the fire pit. He was hunched over some sort of game that looked a little bit like a Chinese checkers board, except it was a little smaller and made of a dark wood, rather than rainbow colors. But it had small holes cut out in a hexagonal pattern in a nearly identical way to the game remembered from childhood. Mitchell suddenly had memories of Christmas at his mother¡¯s parents¡¯ house with cousins playing old board games.

    Set into the holes in the board were a series of black and white marbles, mostly grouped up around the center, but with lines of two or three marbles at different angles near the edge of the board. As they watched, the dwarf glanced up briefly from the board, eyed the meat, then reached over to the handle and cranked it enough to give the roasting animal a quarter turn. Only then did he notice the newcomers.

    Mitchell hadn¡¯t met many dwarves yet, but this one looked younger than Nothok. His face was still flat and rock-like with a bulbus nose and a long, trinket-filled beard, but his skin was not as lined, nor did his hair have any gray. Instead it was a ruddy sort of brown not too different than his skin. He had dark black eyes that glittered in the firelight coming from the coals and Mitchell saw him give them both a once over, pausing, as many did, on the sevith, before taking in the rest of them.

    ¡°Aye, welcome to the Sleeping Giant. Be ye needing a room?¡±

 Chapter 64

    Mitchell found the dwarf¡¯s accent much easier to comprehend than Nothok¡¯s had been. The consonants were a little softer, and the vowels not so stretched as what he¡¯d heard from the old shopkeeper in Belikir. It put him at ease slightly as he became less worried about understanding him and being understood himself.

    ¡°If it be Stollar¡¯s will,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°We would like a room for one night, maybe two.¡±

    ¡°Your nicest, if it¡¯s available,¡± Lethlin added. ¡°We¡¯ve been traveling awhile and want to enjoy our rest.¡±

    ¡°Aye, it¡¯s available. One crown, two silver, if it be Stollar¡¯s will.¡±

    ¡°A night?¡± Lethelin asked with a tone in her voice that told Mitchell she intended to talk the dwarf down.

    ¡°Aye.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Lethelin said, her finger to her lips.

    Releasing Mitchell¡¯s hand, she gave him a little wink and strolled casually up to the table where the innkeeper was staring at a collection of white and black marbles.

    ¡°I like your Iva board. Is that made of blackmoor oak?¡±

    The dwarf looked up and gave a curt nod.

    ¡°It¡¯s blackmoor, aye. Got it of an elven trader about three high suns back. You¡¯ve a good eye.¡±

    ¡°Hmm,¡± Lethelin said, her voice non-committal. ¡°And onyx and quartz garms. This is quite nice. Must have cost you several crowns.¡±

    ¡°It would have, aye. But I played him for it. In the end, he owed me twelve crowns and first pick of his goods the next time he rolled through the town.¡±

    The dwarf leaned back at that, looking very satisfied. Then, he jumped slightly and leaned over to turn the crank to rotate the large carcass another quarter turn.

    ¡°Apologies. Tonight¡¯s, dinner, aye. Can¡¯t be lettin¡¯ it burn. Wife be shaving my beard and feeding it to me if I did, aye.¡±

    Lethelin chuckled.

    ¡°No, can¡¯t have that. Sorry if I distracted you. It really is a beautiful set, though.¡±

    ¡°Not being a problem, young miss.¡±

    ¡°And¡­¡± she said casually. ¡°This is the Three Dragons problem if I¡¯m not mistaken?¡± Then she jumped slightly, as if startled.

    ¡°Oh, my!¡± she said with a bashful smile so good, Mitchell would have believed it if he hadn¡¯t already known her. ¡°Under the sun, where are my manners? I¡¯m Sitha. That handsome burly man behind me is my betrothed, Jurgan.¡±

    Lethelin turned back and gave Mitchell a big smile.

    ¡°Jurgan love, come say hello to our host!¡±

    Mitchell trotted up, trying to suppress his smile and stood next to Lethelin.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s blessings upon you,¡± Mitchell said as correctly as he could manage. ¡°This is a fine inn you have.¡±

    The dwarf stood up then, a smile splitting his face.

    ¡°My manners as well, aye. Name¡¯s Elgrin Giantborn. Be welcome!¡±

    The dwarf touched his thick and calloused thumb to his heart and forehead as Mitchell had seen Allora do on occasion. Lethelin and Mitchell both repeated the gesture, although Mitchell wasn¡¯t as smooth about it as they were. He hadn¡¯t practiced it much.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s blessings on you as well, this fine day,¡± Elgrig continued, then turned a piercing black eye on Lethelin. ¡°And you are right indeed, Miss Sitha. It is the Three Dragons problem. You know Iva well, then?¡±

    ¡°Oh, no,¡± Lethelin said with a self-effacing laugh. ¡°I just dabble here and there. I¡¯ve never been that good. My father was quite the player though. The Three Dragons always got the better of him. He taught me a bit here and there and I almost beat him a few times, but just between you and me, I think he was going easy on me.¡±

    The dwarf nodded sagely.

    ¡°Aye, the Three Dragons has had me stumped for well on a year now. But if you are good enough to recognize it, perhaps you¡¯d fancy a game or two? Been awhile since I had a real challenge?¡±

    Lethelin arched one coppery red eyebrow.

    ¡°I could be persuaded, if Jurgan doesn¡¯t mind.¡± she looked up to him. ¡°What do you think, love? Can you keep yourself busy while I play with our host? I promise I won¡¯t wager too much coin?¡±

    ¡°Wager, you say?¡± Elgrin perked up. ¡°Liking the sound of that already, aye.¡±

    Mitchell had absolutely no idea what was going on, but he was definitely enjoying the show. He decided to run with it.

    ¡°If you like. But just remember what happened last time? I still haven¡¯t found boots as good as the ones you lost to that ship captain?¡±

    Lethelin¡¯s eyes sparkled, pleased to see him joining in and she quickly replaced her smile with a sorrowful frown.

    ¡°I am sorry about that, love. I promise I won¡¯t wager your clothes this time.¡±

    Mitchell saw that Elgrin was listening quite intensely while trying to look like he wasn¡¯t. Lethelin had him. He knew her well enough to know that she would never have done something like this unless she was working the dwarf over. So what the hell, Mitchell thought. Let her have her fun. And, truth be told, he really wanted to see her do her thing.

    A loud voice exploded from behind the bar causing all three of them jump.

    ¡°Elgrin! You stone-brained fool of a fisher¡¯s-son! The meat!¡±

    Mitchell looked to see a dwarven woman roughly equal in height and build to Elgrin but with blonde hair like spun gold thread. She had eyes the color of the deepest sapphire blue and her skin was more the color of marble than her husband¡¯s ruddy tan.

    Elgrin almost dove for the crank, giving it a hasty quarter turn.

    ¡°Sorry, diamond of my heart, aye! Was just greeting our guests.¡±

    ¡°I swear to Stollar, Denass, and the moons, if you ruin another takir you¡¯ll be on the spit next!¡±

    ¡°Promises, my most beautiful gemstone, aye!¡±

    Elgrin was actually sweating now, for reasons that had nothing to do with the coals.

    The woman grumbled something under her breath, snatched an empty tankard off the bar, and stalked back into what Mitchell presumed was the kitchen.

    ¡°Ah, yes,¡± he said slowly and Mitchell got to see a dwarf blush. ¡°That¡¯s me wife, aye. Bari. I love her like the pick loves the stone, but¡­¡± he glanced quickly at the kitchen door then back, dropping his voice to a near whisper¡°¡­ she¡¯ll be the death of me, she will, aye.¡±

    ¡°She seems lovely,¡± Lethelin said with a wink. ¡°But if you¡¯ve got time for that game, I¡¯ll make sure you don¡¯t forget the meat.¡±

    ¡°Aye, I think that would be agreeable. Shall we start with two copper a garm?¡±

    Lethelin made a worried face and then glanced nervously at Mitchell before looking away.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Two copper sounds good.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll just be over here,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°Good luck, Sitha.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, love.¡±

    Elgrin picked up one onyx stone and one quartz and put his hands behind his back, then brought them forward.

    ¡°Which will it be, aye?¡±

    Lethelin tapped his left hand and he produced the quartz. Then they set to arranging the pieces.

    Mitchell posted up at a table nearby, close enough to observe but not so close as to be a nuisance.

    The game seemed to consist of moving one, two, or three of your marbles¡ªapparently called garms ¨C diagonally over the board in a line and into a line of the other side¡¯s garms, with the goal of knocking the other player¡¯s stones off the board and into a tray that ran around the edge. The trick was that you needed one more stone in your row than were in the opponent¡¯s row. One black garm could not push one white garm and vice versa, but two could. The most it appeared you could move in a row was three and they could not push an opposing three. If it looked like a player was moving two into position to bump your one, you could move one stone behind that one to support it. That would block an advance but also block you as well.

    Lethelin was true to her word and reminded Elgrin every few minutes to check the meat and that earned her quite a few gracious smiles as he tended to get lost in the strategy. She celebrated enthusiastically when she knocked off some of his stones, calling to Mitchell to join in her success, and then pouted in a suitably adorable manner when he knocked off her garms.

    Despite what looked to be early success on Lethelin¡¯s part, soon Elgrin was chasing her all over the board and had all of her stones knocked off into the tray in short order.

    He sat back with a grin but also looked at her in a new light.

    ¡°You had me worried there for a bit, I will admit, aye. But it didn¡¯t take me long to spot your style. It¡¯s one a lot of younger players use, aye.¡±

    Lethelin looked pensive.

    ¡°I rushed, didn¡¯t I?¡±

    Elgrin chuckled.

    ¡°That you did, young miss, aye. Takes time to learn patience in Iva. Early success can sometimes lull players into a false sense of confidence.¡±

    ¡°You sound like my father,¡± she said warmly. ¡°He said the same thing. Shall we play again? I know I can do better!¡±

    ¡°Aye, sounds good.¡±

    They did the math on the number of stones knocked off and Lethelin owed him eight copper at the end after deducting the requisite copper for the ones she¡¯d managed to knock off. Almost a full silver piece. Not exactly a paltry sum for a single game.

    They quickly reset the board and began again.

    Lethelin played much more conservatively this time. There were no shouts and cheers and she did seem to be giving Elgrin a run for his money. At the end of the second game, she only owed him four copper. She was now into him for one silver, and two copper.

    ¡°It¡¯s coming back to me now,¡± she told Elgrin who seemed to be really enjoying himself. ¡°It has been some years and Jurgan has no head for Iva so I haven¡¯t been able to play much since I left home.¡±

    ¡°Aye, much better that second time, Miss Sitha, much better. Still some holes in your defense but I think with some practice you could be quite good. Not enough to best me, I don¡¯t think, aye. But I would enjoy the games!¡±

    ¡°Good master Elgrin, that sounds like a challenge to me. Careful now. That¡¯s how I got Jurgan to be my betrothed. He thought he could best me in archery. You¡¯re quite handsome as well. I could always use a second husband.¡±

    Elgrin blushed a deep crimson.

    ¡°Aye, now. I do be well and truly bonded to my lovely Bari. But if it be a challenge you¡¯re after, how about we up the stakes a wee bit, aye? I suspect true competition brings out the best in you, aye? Tell me I¡¯m wrong?¡±

    Lethelin gave him a sly look.

    ¡°What did you have in mind?¡±

    ¡°Aye¡­ Let¡¯s say five copper a garm?¡±

    Lethelin starred at him with a frown creasing her full lips. Mitchell suddenly caught motion down near her thigh, under the table where Elgrin couldn¡¯t see. She was beckoning to Mitchell and pointing at herself. He stared, not sure what she was trying to tell him and as the seconds ticked by, her pointing got more frantic.

    Mitchell suddenly jumped up.

    ¡°Uhh¡­ Sitha, my moon and stars, don¡¯t you think that¡¯s a little too much.¡±

    ¡°Nonsense,¡± she said and looked at him like he had interrupted at the worst possible time. ¡°Elgrin is right. You know I do better when I¡¯m under pressure. Please don¡¯t bother me now.¡±

    ¡°But Sith¡ª¡±

    ¡°Do sit down!¡± she snapped at him and waved her hand to shoo him away. ¡°You¡¯ll keep your bloody boots, don¡¯t worry.¡±

    Sensing the part he suspected she wanted him to play, he went along.

    ¡°Yes, dear.¡±

    Elgrin chuckled as Mitchell went back to his seat and he saw a hungry look in the dwarf¡¯s dark black eyes.

    ¡°Five copper per garm. Deal.¡±

    The two of them began to draw a crowd. Elgrin got one of the customers to mind the food with the promise of some free ale as long as he didn¡¯t burn it. Then, final distraction eliminated, they began. Barely a word was spoken between the two of them as they pushed their garms across the board. They were both hunched over the board starring intensely at their stones as if they could divine the future from the patterns. It got down to the wire but Elgrin managed to eke out a victory, though Lethelin made him work for it.

    ¡°Again!¡± Lethelin called, and she sounded almost angry.

    They tallied up the total subtracted to the amount owed and gave the figures to another customer who was now keeping track with a slate and some chalk. Mitchell had faith in Lethelin, although truth be told there were moments of doubt creeping in. The bill was getting a little high.

    It was halfway through the next game when Mitchell noticed Bari standing next to him and glaring down at her husband. Her arms were crossed over an ample chest but she saw that the meat was being tended so apparently didn¡¯t have any reason to interrupt the game. And drink orders were picking up. Several of the crowd had ale cups in their hands and serving girls had materialized from somewhere.

    ¡°That man will be the death of me,¡± she mumbled to herself before walking back to the kitchen.

    It was two more games before Lethelin won her first round. Several of the customers, some of whom had been drawn in from outside, cheered at her victory. She had only barely won though, shaving fifteen copper off the ninety she already owed him. Nearly a full gold crown, if Mitchell remembered his conversions correctly. Ten copper to a silver, ten silver to a gold. It was ten gold to a platinum, but he¡¯d yet to see anyone carrying around platinum pieces.

    Around and around they went for the next hour. Lethelin would win a round, shaving off a little more of her debt, then lose a round. Mitchell wasn¡¯t sure because the amounts changed so quickly, but it seemed that Lethelin was slowly winning back more than she lost. He grinned. Then, at the end of one game, she was miraculously in the black. Not only did she win back all that she¡¯d lost but, according to one of the humans keeping track, Elgrin now owed her a silver.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s balls!¡± Elgrin said, although Mitchell wasn¡¯t sure if it was in surprise or consternation.

    ¡°We can stop, if you like, good master Elgrin. We¡¯ve had a merry run.¡±

    Lethelin took a long pull from her ale mug that someone had brought her. Elgrin matched her with a pull from his own.

    ¡°Just getting good, young miss. Just getting good, aye. Again?¡±

    Lethelin lost again, but only by two garms, or 1 silver. Elgrin smiled triumphantly and his ale cup came down with a loud crash.

    ¡°Aye, Didn¡¯t see that one coming, did you?¡±

    ¡°I think I want that silver back!¡±

    ¡°Ha! Come and get it, aye.¡±

    They grinned at each other savagely, like too old warriors facing off to the death and the board was reset.

    Lethelin won the next three rounds. The third round she beat him so severely that the whole crowd went silent. Elgrin stared mutely at the board as if he couldn¡¯t believe what he was seeing. The guy keeping score was scribbling furiously on his slate, checking and double checking his figures.

    Lethelin sat back in a huff and polished off the rest of her ale. Mitchell wasn¡¯t sure how many she¡¯d had already. She had a grin on her face like the cat that got the cream and then fucked the cow besides.

    The man doing the numbers showed the slate to Lethelin and she just nodded, her grin still stuck to her face.

    ¡°Good master Elgrin, I do believe you owe me one crown and three silver.¡±

    ¡°Let me see that!¡±

    Elgrin snatched the slate from the customer¡¯s hand and stared at it, his eyes darting back and forth, his expression a thundercloud. Slowly, he set the tablet down on the table and reached into his vest and drew out a coin purse, placing one gold crown and three silver deliberately on the table.

    Lethelin leaned forward, picked them up, bounced them in her hand, then removed one silver and tossed it to the man who¡¯d kept score. The rest of it she placed right back in front of Elgrin.

    ¡°Your finest room, good master Elgrin. One crown, two silver.¡±

    Elgrin¡¯s eyes went wide and he stared at Lethelin like she¡¯d just sprouted wings.

    ¡°You--?¡± he sputtered.

    His eyes went to the Iva board, the coin on the table, and then to her, then back to the board and then to the smug little red-haired thief sitting demurely in her seat like and looking as innocent as you please.

    The room was tense as Elgrin processed what had just happened. Mitchell began to wonder if he¡¯d need to draw his sword when the innkeeper threw back his head and laughed.

    He laughed and he kept laughing. He had tears in his eyes and he was clutching his gut.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s girthy cock and swinging balls!¡± he exclaimed. ¡°My mother warned me about trusting red-haired lasses. Aye, she did!¡±

    Elgrin guffawed some more and then pulled himself to his feet and bowed to Lethelin.

    ¡°The room is yours, young miss, with my sincerest welcome, aye. Best bit of Iva I¡¯ve played in a dragon¡¯s age. Stollar¡¯s bloody balls, it was, aye.

    Lethelin bowed graciously and gave him a kiss on his ruddy tan cheek.

    ¡°My thanks, master Elgrin.¡±

    The dwarf blushed again, then he called for one of the serving girls to show them to their room.

    Once the serving girl had left them outside the door with a key, they went to the railing and looked down into the common room where conversation was still going full force. Elgrin was gesticulating wildly, people were laughing and shaking their heads in disbelief.

    ¡°So how much of that was an act,¡± he asked Lethelin as she admired her handiwork.

    Lethelin brushed some imaginary dust from her shoulder and pushed a stray lock of curly red hair behind her ear.

    ¡°I had the Three Dragons problem licked when I was sixteen high suns old. Alvi taught me. The hard part wasn¡¯t beating Elgrin, it was playing bad enough to make him believe that he stood a chance.¡±

    Mitchell stared at this gorgeous girl who always managed to find some new way to surprise him. She was magnificent.

    ¡°Did I ever tell you how amazing you are?¡±

    She glanced up at him and then turned, putting her arms around his waist.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. But now would be a good time.¡±

    ¡°You are amazing and I love you.¡±

    She beamed and then stood up on her tiptoes for a kiss, which Mitchell obliged.

    ¡°Come on,¡± he said. ¡°Let¡¯s see this room you got us for free.¡±

 Chapter 65

    The room, while not nearly as nice as the Maiden¡¯s Mist had been, was pretty decent. It had a large bed that they both eyed with promise, some rustic furniture all made with the same honey-colored wood, and even a few stuffed heads and tapestries on the wall. They didn¡¯t stay long however. There was work to do.

    ¡°Off to the blacksmith with me?¡± Mitchell asked.

    ¡°Sure. You need me to haggle for you, anyway. And I likely won¡¯t start snooping until after dark.¡±

    Allora had given them a list of things to pick up and chief among them was some proper armor for him. Given the time constraints ¨C he didn¡¯t want to be away for long ¨C he wouldn¡¯t be able to get the best, but anything was better than the simple traveling clothes he had at the moment.

    ¡°It will likely just be leather gear that he can alter quickly,¡± Allora had told him. ¡°A gambeson at the very least, but if we are lucky he can fit you with a brigandine.¡±

    Once she actually explained what those were, it made sense. A gambeson was padded leather armor, usually worn underneath heavier armor, but it could be worn on its own. And a brigandine was leather or heavy cloth armor with metal plates riveted into the material for added protection. Allora had said she would have liked him to wear both but expected that would take too much time as getting the fit right would be more important.

    There were also a list of odds and ends that she wanted them to have before they made their way to Lorivin. Mitchell thought it would have been good to sell off all their winter gear but that would have required saddling up Tammi and Marvin and they would have lost a lot of speed. But between what coin Allora had left behind, what they¡¯d taken from the bandits, and what they¡¯d brought with them over the mountain, they should have plenty to get the necessities. Clayfaire was small enough that it didn¡¯t take long to find the blacksmith. Lethelin had been hoping for a man to increase her chances of flirting and haggling, but instead found an elvish woman, about sixty years old who seemed completely immune to the thief¡¯s charms.

    The smith, Rathain, did indeed have a gently used brigandine that she had accepted in trade awhile back. It was close enough to Mitchell¡¯s size that she could probably adjust the fit to where it would be passable until he got something better, but she wasn¡¯t as skilled with leather working and stitching so it would take longer. She recommended he visit the actual leatherworker who could get the job done much faster but would charge more.

    In the end, that was what they decided to do. As a compromise, Rathain gave the armor a thorough inspection and fixed the rivets on several of the plates that had either come off or loosened, at no extra charge, then gave them a referral to the leatherworker a few streets over.

    As they went about their business, Mitchell tried to soak in the little town. He did his best to tune into different conversations of the people around him and to familiarize himself with various accents. He listened for phrases and new words, and then would quietly ask Lethelin what they meant.

    Around lunch they stopped at a food cart that smelled delicious. A human couple were selling meat skewers with a few different options including vegetables, and sauces. They had athi paired with a fruit that tasted similar to pear and which was covered with some sort of glaze, and then some spiced takir with a root vegetable called a bahk. It had the same color as roasted sweet potato and tasted nearly the same, too. Mitchell wondered if this had been brought over by ancient Earth people when they¡¯d been abducted.

    ¡°Are you sure you want to eat the takir? It¡¯s pretty spicy,¡± Lethelin asked him as she looked at the man who was preparing her athi skewers. ¡°Smells like drake¡¯s teeth. Is it?¡±

    The man, a slightly plump fellow maybe thirty years old, smiled.

    ¡°It is. The greens, though. The reds won¡¯t be ready until the first or second week of fall, be it Stollar¡¯s will. Then have to dry them.¡±

    ¡°Greens are still a little spicy. At least the ones they grow on the coast.¡±

    The woman who was chopping up some vegetables chuckled.

    ¡°I knew I heard the coast on your tongue. Varset? Northwatch?¡±

    ¡°Varset,¡± Lethelin said with uncharacteristic honesty.

    ¡°My dad was from there.¡± the woman smiled. ¡°You sound like ¡®im. Makes me miss the old jivi¡¯s ass.¡±

    Lethelin grinned.

    ¡°How¡¯d he get all the way out here? And do you remember which part of the city he was from?¡±

    The woman pursed her lips in thought.

    ¡°Moved east when he was a young man. Said he had no taste for the sea and wanted to try farming. Met my mum and they bonded a few years later, had me and settled in the high valley region.¡±

    She tapped her lip.

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose ¡®Lippa¡¯ means anything? ¡®Lasta¡¯? It¡¯s on the tip of my lips.¡± She turned to her husband then. ¡°Onrick, do you remember him talking about it ever?¡±

    ¡°I did my best to avoid talking to him, you know that. Man never liked me.¡±

    Onrick finished applying the pepper sauce to Mitchell¡¯s takir skewer and handed it over while Mitchell fished out the few coppers they owed him.The smell immediately started to sear his nose and he wondered what counted for ¡°a little¡± spicy in Awenor.

    The woman turned back to Lethelin with a look of consternation.

    ¡°Do any of those tickle your ears?¡± .

    ¡°Liastra?¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡± the woman exclaimed. ¡°Stollar¡¯s nipples, that¡¯s just it! Liastra. Said he was born there but some family troubles made up his mind for him to leave. ¡®Sea air makes my ass itch, anyway!¡¯ he used say.¡±

    She chuckled at the memory but it cut off when she noticed Lethelin¡¯s gaping mouth.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, miss?¡±

    ¡°Pardon,¡± Lethelin stuttered as she closed her mouth. ¡°But are you sure he said he was from Liastra?¡±

    ¡°Aye. Said he was born and raised in the Liastra district. Not that that means anything to me. I¡¯ve never been further west than the Saffen River. But my dad started working on a fishing crew when he was barely ten high suns old. By the time his twenty-fifth rolled around, he¡¯d had enough and left it all behind.¡±

    ¡°Pardon again, but may I know your father¡¯s name?¡±

    The woman looked at her husband, Onrick and he looked just as puzzled as his wife.

    ¡°Is something wrong?¡± he asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. His name?¡±

    ¡°Welish. Family name was Welish, and dad¡¯s name was Ruther. Ruther De Welish. My name¡¯s Drista, by the way. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet¡­¡±

    Drista¡¯s voice trailed off as she stared at Lethelin.

    What little color Lethelin had in her pale skin had drained out.

    ¡°I say, miss. Are you ill?¡± Onrick made to fetch her a cup of water from the small barrel he kept by his cart.

    Lethelin took in a deep breath and looked as if she was about to speak but instead, she grabbed Mitchell¡¯s arm in an iron grip.

    ¡°Excuse us, we¡¯ll be right back.¡±

    ¡°Wha¨C?¡± but that was all Mitchell had time to say as she yanked him across the street so hard he almost dropped his food.

    Once they were out of earshot, she pulled him close and whispered so harshly it was almost a screech.

    ¡°That woman is a Welish! Balls and fucking taint! The only daughter of Ruther De Welish!

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Mitchell said, sardonically. ¡°Can¡¯t believe it. A Welish just sold me some spicy meat.¡±

    ¡°There are only a dozen families that live in Liastra. Their ostentatious estates take up an entire district. If you¡¯re from there, you¡¯re from one of the families.

    ¡°So dad was rich, I guess. Sounds like he left it behind.¡±

    ¡°Do you remember when I told you about the first man I killed? Sorvo De Halib?¡±

    ¡°Sure. But her name is Welish. Well, her dad¡¯s name.¡±

    She waved that away.

    ¡°The Halibs were run out of town, remember? Sorvo had raped several girls, big scandal. Tickle your ears?¡±Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    ¡°Yeah, but¨C¡±

    ¡°Sorvo¡¯s father, the head of the family, a right sack of jivi shit named Alastan, sold his share of the gretch shark trade to his partner and fled the city.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh.¡±

    When Mitchell didn¡¯t say anything further Lethelin looked at him like he was a halfwit again.

    ¡°Do you want to guess what the partner¡¯s name was?¡±

    Then it finally clicked for Mitchell.

    ¡°Welish?¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡± she almost screamed. ¡°The Welish family is controlled by the elder Welish. An ancient old man named Amos. The man is older than dirt, but he¡¯s still running things with one foot in the crypt because he has no heirs. His son, Ruther De Welish vanished decades back and Amos never sired another child. Everyone thought Ruther was dead. Sailed out to sea on his private yacht one fine spring day, big storm blew in, and all they ever found were some bits of wood along the coast north of the city. That woman,¡± Lethelin said and jabbed a finger at Drista who was staring at them like she didn¡¯t know if she wanted to call some authority figure or blow them off as crazy people, ¡°is the heir to House Welish. One of the wealthiest families in all of bloody Awenor!¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°Well.¡±

    It was interesting but he wasn¡¯t sure what he was supposed to do with that information.

    ¡°Do you think she knows?¡±

    ¡°If you were nearly as wealthy as the crown, would you be selling bloody fucking meat sticks in a two-copper village in the ass-end of nowhere?¡±

    Mitchell had to agree that that was unlikely.

    ¡°Balls and fucking taint!¡± Lethelin swore and looked up at the sky. ¡°This is Vish¡¯s doing. I know this is. To the nine hells with holy quests!¡±

    She nearly shouted at that last bit which drew some stares their way from a few passers by.

    ¡°Lethelin, what are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°You think it¡¯s coincidence that we just happen to run into the heir to the Welish fortune while we¡¯re out buying armor? A family I am partly responsible for making one of the wealthiest on the continent? Like it was just a coincidence that you found Vras? A¨C¡±she lowered her voice back to a whisper, ¡°shadow cat that can apparently be trained? That we just happened to pick a path through the mountains that took us close to Luvari right before Allora was about to die?¡±

    ¡°I honestly have no idea. As far as I know, my world has no gods. I don¡¯t know how they work beyond what Allora has told me.¡±

    ¡°Well, this is how they work!¡± she spat, though her frustration was not directed at him. ¡°They drop little things in your path and see what you do with them.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s kind of what Allora said, yeah.¡±

    Mitchell could clearly she was upset but he couldn¡¯t keep the grin off his face. He found the whole thing highly amusing.

    ¡°And Vish is especially bad about it,¡± Lethelin continued. ¡°Always bothering people going about their business.¡±

    ¡°I think we have to tell her,¡± Mitchell said.

    The now very agitated assassin groaned.

    ¡°Of course you do.¡±

    She slumped and rested her head on his chest.

    ¡°It will be fun,¡± he told her, keeping his voice chipper. ¡°It¡¯s like telling someone they won the lottery.¡±

    Lethelin gave him a sharp look and then, before he could pull away, thumped him right in his forehead.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what that is, but no Engish.¡±

    Mitchell rubbed the spot where she¡¯d nailed him and laughed.

    ¡°After you, chosen one.¡±

    ¡°Am not!¡± she shot back. ¡°Fucking holy quests.¡±

    By the time they made it back across the street, Drista and Onrick were whispering to themselves and looked as if they¡¯d rather Mitchell and Lethelin would move on, lest the two crazy out-of-towners scare away other customers.

    ¡°Uh, yes,¡± Lethelin began slowly, as if trying to figure out how to begin. ¡°I apologize for startling you, Mistress Drista and good Master Onrick. It¡¯s just that, well, I know of the Welish family in the Liastra district. Many people do, actually.¡±

    ¡°Oh, really?¡± Drista said, a little less wary, but still not sure where Lethelin was going. ¡°My dad said fishing was the family business, but the way he talked about it, it didn¡¯t sound like much.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Did he bring his naming day declaration when he came east? And was your name registered with the local temple when you were born?¡±

    ¡°I think I still have his in a trunk back at the house. And of course I was registered. But look, if you¡¯ve got something to day, spit it out.¡±

    Drista was obviously at the end of her patience for whatever this was.

    ¡°I do beg your pardon, truly I do. I was just shocked to hear that name because¡­ Well, Mistress Drista, if you are telling the truth and you can verify who your father was and who you are¡­ You are the sole surviving heir of a very wealthy family.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Drista said and laughed as if it was all some sort of big joke. ¡°No, I¡¯m sorry but you are mistaken. My dad was just a fisherman. He came out to the High Valley with barely any coin. He told the story often enough. Worked as a farm hand for a few years, saving up as much as he could to buy his own plot and give my mum a good home, and worked hard every day after. Why would he do that if he was from some wealthy family?¡±

    ¡°Listen, miss, ah¡­?¡± Onrick began.

    ¡°Lethelin,¡± Lethelin said, surprising Mitchell yet again by giving her real name. ¡°And saying your father was just a fisherman is like saying Stollar¡¯s light is a mere candle flame.¡±

    Onrick gaped and then remembered what he was trying to do.

    ¡°Listen, Miss Lethelin. You¡¯re upsetting my wife. I think it would be best if you moved on now.¡±

    ¡°No, I¨C¡± Lethelin said, then she reached for Drista¡¯s hand fast as a viper strike. ¡°I Lethelin Ne Forlia, swear under Stollar¡¯s holy light and on the soul of my departed mother that I speak the truth. Take your father¡¯s name day declaration and yours and travel as fast as you can to Stollar¡¯s temple in Varset. Declare who you are.Let them test you. They will have to send for a priest from the temple where you were declared and it will take time, but please do as I say. I speak no lie. On my soul, I do not.¡±

    Drista and Onrick looked stunned at Lethelin¡¯s vehemence. And, as before, vows as she had given carried real weight here. No one made them lightly.

    A whole series of emotions passed over Drista¡¯s face as her husband pulled his wife¡¯s hands free of Lethelin¡¯s. Then he started packing up their cart.

    ¡°Onrick, do you think¡­? Is it possible?¡±

    The troubled man looked to his wife and then to the two of them and Mitchell could tell he didn¡¯t know what to believe.

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know, sun of my heart. Let¡¯s pack up and talk about it at home. That¡¯s enough for today.¡±

    Onrick looked at Mitchell and Lethelin like he couldn¡¯t decide if he wanted to curse them or hug them.

    She nodded mutely, somewhere between hysterical laughter and hysterical crying. Her hands were trembling badly and she fumbled the utensils so much that her husband told her to go sit and he would take care of everything.

    As Drista stepped away from the cart, she looked with a kind of horrid fascination at Lethelin. Lethelin gave her a nod, then touched her heart and her head.

    ¡°Safe travels.¡±

    Mitchell watched as they finished loading up their cart and began to push it down the street and smiled. Then he took a bite of his neglected skewer and it felt like he¡¯d swallowed a hot coal.

    ¡°Horry fucking shiii¡­!¡± he cried out as his tongue began to melt off. The only thing that kept the English from being detected by the few people on the street around them were that his mouth was trying to scream around the food.

    Lethelin looked up from watching the couple walk away and she stared at him confused.

    ¡°They¡¯re not that spicy,¡± she said. ¡°The red drake¡¯s teeth are the worst.¡±

    Mitchell managed to swallow it down and then his throat began to burn.

    ¡°Was this seasoned with molten lava? Stollar¡¯s taint!¡±

    Lethelin laughed and grabbed his hand.

    ¡°Come on, there¡¯s a well at the end of the street.¡±

    ***

    ¡°That was a nice thing you did,¡± Mitchell told Lethelin when they were back in their room a little while later.

    Orders had been placed, what could be purchased was bought and now sat in a few small bundles secreted away in a spot up in the rafters that Lethelin had made it to with ease. Now, they were waiting for evening when they would sit down in the inn¡¯s common room to learn what they could about the broader world outside of the Shadow Glen.

    ¡°You¡¯d think so, but I have likely just flipped the boat and punched a hole in the hull besides. This is going to shake up the entire city.¡±

    ¡°Why, though? So the family gets an heir. Isn¡¯t that good?¡±

    Lethelin sighed, although whether it was from exasperation at his ignorance of Varset politics or simple tiredness, he couldn¡¯t be sure. He opted to believe it was the last.

    ¡°People have been circling around old Amos Welish for decades now, just waiting for him to announce what he would do with his money after he died. Who would take over the business? Would he declare an heir through legal channels, would he start trying to bed women left and right to produce another one? But the old man has remained silent on the topic, as far as I know. If he¡¯s made any plans, he has kept them to himself. And the flesh drakes have grown thicker with each passing year.¡±

    Mitchell grabbed one of the chairs from the small writing desk in the room and set it down in front of where Lethelin sat at the end of the bed and listened without interrupting.

    ¡°And not just people from Awenor. There are agents from each of the seven kingdoms in the city just waiting for a chance to be involved in whatever decision the old bastard makes. Gretch shark hunting is worth a lot of crowns. Sorvo told Amos the secret to pacifying them during the hunt and, despite many lives lost trying to figure it out, those two are still the only ones who know. All their men are watched and no man is allowed on a crew without a wife and kids. Every man gives blood and the blood of his family. If one of them betrays the secret, death won¡¯t just come for him, but to everyone he loves.¡±

    ¡°They aren¡¯t fucking around, I guess,¡± Mitchell commented somberly.

    ¡°No. So what do you think all those vultures are going to do when an heir comes rising out of the ocean depths like water elemental from the gods? It might very well kick off a small war. I may have just sentenced that woman to a quick and brutal death.¡±

    That upset Mitchell a little bit. Drista and Onrick seemed like good people.

    ¡°But, you said Vish put them in our path.¡±

    ¡°I mean, I can¡¯t say for sure, but I can¡¯t believe it¡¯s a mere coincidence. Not something like this.¡±

    ¡°Would Vish do that just to see her killed?¡±

    Lethelin wobbled her head.

    ¡°It¡¯s not like that,¡± Lethelin began. ¡°If she did do it, watching the city implode might be what she wants. They do things for their own purposes and just because they¡¯re gods doesn¡¯t make them benevolent.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s been helpful so far, though.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but why? Do you know?¡±

    Mitchell confessed that he didn¡¯t. He could only say that the results have been favorable.

    ¡°This is why I don¡¯t like being involved with gods. With people, you can usually guess pretty accurately at their motivations. Coin, sex, love, revenge, desire, sadness, simple things like that. They aren¡¯t hard to figure out. And once you know what¡¯s driving them, you can make predictions with a decent amount of certainty. But the gods don¡¯t work like that. Sometimes chaos is the point. Sometimes suffering is the point just because they¡¯re curious.

    ¡°Maybe Ithstasy sends a storm just to see if the boat crews make it back or not. Maybe a child finds a buried treasure just so Vish can see if the family is killed by greedy neighbors who are then killed by the broker they seek to sell it to? Seems good on the surface, but what are the consequences? We just don¡¯t know.¡±

    Mitchell sat back a little stunned. So far the things that had been attributed to the gods had appeared beneficial so he had assumed they were beneficent beings. But if Lethelin was right, it meant that there could be serious repercussions down the road that only existed because of their interference. As he pondered the implications, he remembered all the old stories from ancient Earth mythologies where the gods were both kind and evil in equal measure. Even the Christian god was no better. Mitchell had always assumed the stories were that way because they were invented by people and reflected the desires of those doing the writings. But it seemed there were kernels of truth in there after all.

    ¡°Well,¡± Mitchell said into the silence. ¡°There¡¯s nothing we can do about it now.¡±

    Then he paused, remembering something.

    ¡°Can I ask you something, though?¡±

    Lethelin looked up from where she¡¯d been staring at her fingers as she worked them into knots.

    ¡°If you were so worried about repercussions and all that, why did you give them your real name? Why didn¡¯t you call yourself Sitha?¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about? I did use the fake name.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Mitchell said slowly. ¡°You gave them your full name. Lethelin Ne Forlia.¡±

    ¡°I¨C¡± Lethelin began, but then a look of horror came over her face. ¡°Oh, balls and bloody fucking taint, I did!¡±

    His attempts to assure her it would be fine fell on deaf ears.

 Chapter 66

    By the time they made it down to the inn¡¯s common room a couple of hours later, Lethelin had her game face on. Mitchell had finally managed to get her to accept that whatever was going to happen was going to happen, and there was no sense in worrying about it now. When he tried to explain the expression ¡°no use crying over spilled milk¡± she had appreciated the idiom but liked hers better.

    ¡°The fish has already spotted the bait,¡± she¡¯d said as she finally agreed with his assessment.

    ¡°For now,¡± she¡¯d informed him in their preplanning session, ¡°We¡¯re just trying to get a feel for the general mood of the people here. Try to listen in on any conversations about things outside of town. Traders move through here fairly often so we should get some good gossip. If anyone asks your opinion on something that you have no idea about, just say ¡®Daylight or darkness¡¯ and shrug.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that mean?¡±

    ¡°It means that such things are beyond your understanding or care, and either Stollar will guide things in his wisdom or Denass will judge their souls after those involved die.¡±

    Short, sweet, and to the point. Mitchell liked it.

    They arrived early enough to claim a table near the center, and one of the serving girls informed them that, while dinner and an ale were included in the price of their room, anything extra they would have to pay for. After that, they played the happy couple easily enough. Lethelin got a lot of greetings as word spread of how she¡¯d gotten one over on poor Elgrin. She even had a couple of free ales sent to her and Mitchell. Bari had glared at her more than once as she went about her business, but most of her ire seemed to have been directed at her husband for being fool enough to gamble in the first place.

    The takir had been removed from the spit some time before, and the fire was mostly just low coals. When their plates were brought out, Mitchell was a little surprised at the portions offered. The little inn they¡¯d stayed at before crossing the mountains had given them much less food for the price, and the fare at the bathhouse, while enough to fill him up, had also been significantly less generous than what had just been set in front of him. After so long on trail rations, Mitchell knew he wouldn¡¯t be able to finish the whole thing. He felt bloated just looking at it.

    The slab of meat that had been cut from the roasted takir was bigger than his hand and thicker besides. It had been topped by a brown gravy, and he saw various potato-like vegetables and mushrooms also covered in the same sauce, and some dark brown flatbread that reminded him of Indian naan. Looking around he saw that other people were taking the two-tined fork and the short stubby knife to carve off parts of the meat before rolling it in a slice of the flatbread. Lethelin had begun to do the same, so he followed along, doing his best to look like a native. The ale, once Mitchell took a taste, had a distinct apple flavor to it which he found pleasant.

    As they ate, they listened. There were indeed a few traders in attendance, and Mitchell did his best to listen without trying to appear interested. If the plan had not been decided on beforehand, he never would have suspected Lethelin of a thing. She looked like she had tuned everyone out to eat, while he was sure his behavior was obvious. She assured him he was doing fine and told him to just relax and enjoy the atmosphere.

    He did his best and tried to tune his ears to the various conversations around him. There were still words he didn¡¯t know peppered in the conversations, but he got the gist of most of it. One of the traders in particular ¨C a gnome of indeterminate age with a wild crop of white hair that looked as if it had never seen a brush ¨C had been in Lorivin a couple of weeks prior and was particularly upset about the long wait times to get past the city gates as things were being checked more carefully.

    ¡°In the queue for no less than four hours, was I! Four, says I!¡± the little gnome nearly screetched and Mitchell watched as his long pointy ears quivered in outrage. ¡°A runner to my buyer I sent to see if he could move me up. Word came back that his ankles were up ¡®round his ears, were they! Everyone stopped and searched, they were!¡±

    The gnome¡¯s odd way of speaking was straining Mitchell¡¯s understanding of Common grammar. Lethelin told him in hushed tones that he was probably from one of the northern gnomish enclaves. They tended to form their own communities rather than mix much with the population at large and they were a bit quirky.

    ¡°They talk funny up there.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like they¡¯re checking everyone going into the city, though.¡±

    ¡°Mmhmm,¡± she murmured around a mouthful of roasted vegetables.

    ¡°Looking for us?¡±

    ¡°Pobawwy,¡± she said.

    Mitchell grinned at the assassin as she tried to talk with her mouth full.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t your mother ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh,¡± she said as she swallowed. Then she stuffed some meat into her mouth while eyeing him with a smile. ¡°Bu¡¯ I dinn¡¯ lifin¡¯ berwy well.¡±

    They shared a laugh which caused her to spit up some of her food, and that only made them laugh harder. For a moment, Mitchell forgot about the mission and just enjoyed the company of the beautiful and deadly woman next to him. The second beautiful and deadly woman he had fallen in love with, in fact. Just what were the odds, he wondered.

    ¡°What are you thinking about?¡± Lethelin asked him after he was quiet for a bit.

    ¡°About how I¡¯ve managed to attach myself to two of the most dangerous women in Awenor. Either you or Allora could kill me without breaking a sweat, but instead I get to do this¡­¡±

    Mitchell leaned forward and planted a kiss on her lips, which she accepted eagerly. Her lips were warm and soft and tasted of the apple ale she¡¯d just drank. He held it for a moment, and he felt their tongues touch just slightly before they broke apart. Lethelin had a touch of color in her cheeks, and Mitchell was feeling warmer, too.

    ¡°True, I could kill you without breaking a sweat, but then I wouldn¡¯t get to experience that tongue of yours myself.¡±

    Mitchell arched an eyebrow.

    ¡°Allora told you about that, did she?¡±

    ¡°Mmhmm,¡± Lethelin said and licked some of the sauce off her fingers. ¡°Among other things.¡±

    Mitchell had a moment where he debated being upset about that or not, but decided that it really didn¡¯t matter. He had assumed Allora would give her at least some details and really, what difference did it make if they shared things back and forth. They were sharing him, after all. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. What guy didn¡¯t like his partner bragging about him to other women. Mitchell certainly didn¡¯t mind.

    ¡°I had to almost drag it out of her, though,¡± Lethelin added. ¡°She was surprisingly shy about the whole thing.¡±

    ¡°Anyway, back on topic,¡± Mitchell said as Lethelin sucked another finger and gave him a devilish grin. ¡°Are you worried about what he said? About being checked?¡±

    Lethelin wobbled her head.

    ¡°We won¡¯t be going in the normal way, so it doesn¡¯t matter. If anything, that will make it easier since they will have so much attention focused on the city gates. And Lorivin is a big city, so they will be hard-pressed to manage even what they have already. People are going to complain and that makes everyone stressed and stressed people get sloppy, make mistakes, and are easily distracted.¡±

    ¡°You sound very confident.¡±

    Lethelin nodded.

    ¡°I am. Didn¡¯t I mention I was one of the best?¡±

    ¡°I think it¡¯s come up.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll get you and Little Miss Prissy Britches inside the city walls, don¡¯t worry. After that, it¡¯s up to you.¡±

    They toasted and settled back to continue their recon. Unfortunately, except for their luck with the gnomish trader, everything else was fairly mundane. There were some grumblings about the lack of rangers patrolling this section of the Shadow Glen and there had been some troll attacks in a town a few leagues further west inside the forest, as well as one story about a goblin tribe that attempted to lay siege to an entire village. It apparently failed in spectacular fashion, the young man said, when a civil war broke out among the goblins who then began slaughtering each other.

    ¡°They killed themselves almost to the last one!¡±

    The story had attracted a fair bit of attention and that last bit caused a few people to chuckle audibly.

    ¡°Not even goblins are that stupid!¡± shouted one customer, waving the tale off.

    ¡°It¡¯s true!¡± said the man telling the story. ¡°My cousin told me the whole thing! Had business with a farmer from Redfern. Said they were stuck behind the walls for three days while the goblins tried to scale the defenses!¡±

    ¡°Sure, sure, Brenin!¡± called one patron. ¡°Just like that time giant scorpions appeared in the forest and saved you from the troll? Giant scorpions that only haunt the sands of Iletish!¡±

    ¡°Oh, or how about that time he said he was seduced by a Fey princess?¡± one woman called out.

    ¡°She wasn¡¯t a princess,¡± Brenin tried to yell over the laughter. ¡°She was just as beautiful as one. And the scorpion did save me! Old Lennig said they must have crossed the peaks looking for food! The troll was just tastier.¡±

    ¡°I saw the girl he left with that night,¡± another man said. ¡°She weren¡¯t no Fey princess! Troll, maybe! Giant toad?¡±

    ¡°Living or dead?¡± a dwarf woman with coal-black hair worked into dreadlocks asked.

    ¡°Couldn¡¯t tell!¡±

    Another big round of guffaws.

    The ribbing of poor Brenin continued for a few more minutes before the man finally gave up and retreated back to his table to nurse his ale.

    Mitchell laughed along with everyone else although he didn¡¯t try to join in with the jokes. He was surprised how comfortable he felt among the people here. He spotted at least four different races, backgrounds he couldn¡¯t even guess at, but everyone seemed to be getting along. Mitchell knew he couldn¡¯t take a single data point and extrapolate that to a whole population, but everywhere he¡¯d seen so far had been a true melting pot in a way that the US and its myth of multiculturalism could only dream of. Anytime there had been more than a handful of people together, there were different species interacting and getting along. Here proved no different. Dwarf interacted with elf interacted with gnome interacted with hafling interacted with human.

    They all had an easy way about them. A good-natured sense of community that he had never really felt before with groups of his own people.

    ¡°What are you grinning about,¡± Lethelin asked him.

    ¡°It¡¯s a little hard to explain but¡­¡± he struggled to put it into words. ¡°Everyone just sort of¡­ gets along. How many universes are represented here, yet they¡¯re like one big blended family.¡±

    Lethelin wasn¡¯t sure what to do with that.

    ¡°Why would what universe someone comes from change how they treat others?¡±

    How to explain thousands of years of tribalism on Earth? He decided not to try. It would just spoil the mood.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°It¡¯s just surprising, that¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°People fight all the time, obviously, but whether they¡¯re dwarf or human has nothing to do with it. We were all slaves here once, all of our ancestors brought here against our will.¡±

    Mitchell nodded that he understood but he still had trouble believing it was really that simple.

    The good mood continued among the patrons for another hour or so. Lethelin got asked to play more rounds of Iva from people who were having trouble believing the story, but she politely declined. Mitchell got questioned a few times as he was known to be with the beautiful human girl who had so thoroughly whipped Elgrin and he got to hear a few tales about their lives in the Shadow Glen. He even got to use his new expression a few times.

    ¡°But,¡± a human woman named Tisha said as she bemoaned the high price of goods over the last several months, ¡°Those jivi fuckers they got running things up in Lorivin have really shat in the dragon¡¯s mouth if you ask me. It¡¯s going to lead to a riot and then they¡¯ll be sorry. Be like nest of skitterbacks in a temple! Don¡¯t you think?¡±

    Mitchell nodded as if the woman had said something wise. Then he shrugged and gave his best ¡°whaddya gonna do¡± face and said ¡°Daylight or darkness, Tisha. Daylight or darkness.¡±

    ¡°Ha! Stollar¡¯s own truth, that is! Daylight or darkness. But just between you, me, and the fairies, I¡¯m hoping they meet the darkness sooner rather than later.¡±

    Mitchell nodded, and then touched his ear before touching the rim of her cup and she did the same. He¡¯d discovered quickly that that was how they toasted here. He was basically saying, ¡°I¡¯ll drink to that.¡±

    When he glanced at Lethelin, who was talking to Tisha¡¯s wife about Iva strategies, she gave him a sly nod of approval.

    ¡°Keldin!¡± Tisha suddenly called over to the bar, getting the attention of a dwarf woman with tawny red hair that flowed elegantly down her back. ¡°Come meet our new friends!¡±

    Keldin finished up her conversation with a gnome she¡¯d been talking to and strode over to their table.

    Mitchell couldn¡¯t yet decide how he felt about dwarven women. They were as squat as the men were, and thickly muscled. While they¡¯re features were definitely female, the word that kept coming up as he tried to describe the ones he¡¯d seen so far was ¡°handsome¡±. They didn¡¯t have the elegant attractiveness of Allora or most of the other elves he¡¯d seen, nor the lithe, dangerous beauty of someone like Lethelin, but they still managed to look feminine enough even with their wide jaws and flat noses. And they were large-breasted and broad-hipped, every one of them. He could certainly appreciate that.

    ¡°This is our other wife, Keldin. We live over in Wildespell. Just passing through tonight on our way to Onyxford.¡±

    ¡°Oh, interesting,¡± Mitchell said.

    ¡°Aye,¡± Keldin said. ¡°My cousin¡¯s just had a baby. It¡¯s a ten-day on the road, but the little hellion was named after me, so figure I owe it to Thela to go meet my namesake.¡±

    ¡°Have a seat,¡± Mitchell said, indicating the last open chair.

    The more they talked, the more Mitchell started to fall in love with the people here. He felt a sort of resonance in his chest and knew it was Awen touching his mind.

    ¡°They are a wonderful people,¡± she said, her voice warm and soothing. ¡°I am glad you could see this side of them before the fighting begins.¡±

    Mitchell agreed.

    A short time later, an elfin woman stepped up to the little stage in front of the hearth at the far end of the common room and began to play an instrument that looked like a strange blend of a hand-held harp and a guitar.

    It had what almost looked like a fret board about two feet long, but it appeared it was there for support rather than for fretting notes. A bow-like piece of thinner wood was attached to the end of the neck about where tuners would be on a guitar and it curved down at a gentle angle to meet the body of the instrument. The body itself was an elongated oval with an equally elongated sound hole through the center which the strings passed over before reaching a bridge where they were secured to a body made of a dark-red colored wood with faint tan accents running through it.

    The woman was striking as well. She had long auburn hair and yellow-gold eyes. Her body was tall and willowy and she wore a simple red sleeveless dress that exposed graceful limbs that ended in surgeon¡¯s fingers. She sat in a chair and placed the device across her body, resting it between her legs the way a classical guitarist might on Earth. She also wore a krisa on her brow with two stones in it.

    She began plucking the strings and tuning and in a few moments the crowd had quieted down and everyone oriented themselves to the stage and waited expectantly.

    Then, without preamble, one of her stones began to glimmer noticeably in the inn¡¯s warm light, and she began to sing. Without warning, Mitchell found himself being carried away.

    Her voice latched onto his mind and he started to see things flickering at the edges of his vision. The language she sang in was not Common but something else. Something melodic and ancient. The words were a lover¡¯s hands caressing his skin, the chords were memories of first kisses. He had never experienced anything like it in his life.

    Around him the bar began to fade, and instead he saw two young lovers, a human woman, maybe only seventeen or eighteen years and a man whose race and age he couldn¡¯t quite determine. He appeared young at first glance, and elf-like but then he appeared ancient in the next moment, despite there not being a single wrinkle on his flawless golden-hued skin. His eyes were also emitting a golden light that bathed the woman in gentle radiance.

    The woman in the vision was herself almost ethereally beautiful as well ¨C eyes the golden-brown hue of pure honey and skin like fresh cream. Her hair was a strawberry blond that put Mitchell in mind of August sunsets over golden prairies. Their figures went from sharp and vivid to hazy as the words of the song passed through his consciousness. They were dancing on a field of stars, her simple farmer¡¯s dress more elegant on her than any royal wedding gown and the man in simple white slacks cinched with a golden rope and a loose-fitting golden shirt.

    Hand in hand, eyes only for each other, the cosmos became their ballroom. The melody rang in Mitchell¡¯s ears, and they moved in time to the slow rhythm that the singer was striking on the body of the guitar as she worked the strings. The couple pirouetted through planetary orbits and swirled technicolor nebulae around their feet as they glided through the heavens.

    Mitchell could feel his heartbeat quicken as the song reached a crescendo. The couple in his vision began to dance more passionately now, their eyes devouring each other as their bodies grew closer. Hands started to roam and clutch hungrily and the surrounding universe began to swirl as if they were a black hole around which all began to rotate.

    As the song reached the final note, the singer¡¯s beautiful soprano voice hit a fermata and held it for an impossibly long time. In his mind¡¯s eye, Mitchell watched as the two lovers finally kissed and then their bodies went supernova and exploded into a dazzling rush of luminescent comets that resolved into tiny little motes of light that then became fireflies zipping over a field of grain. In the distance across the field, Mitchell could see a simple farmhouse with a single candle burning in the window and in the sky above, two moons, one silvery and one golden.

    Then the song ended and Mitchell was gasping and felt dizzy. His vision cleared and he was once again in the common room of the inn. Mitchell rubbed his eyes and looked around, almost feeling like this wasn¡¯t the real world he was now sitting in. The real world was up in the heavens with the dancing couple. Mitchell fought to process his thoughts and around him he saw others with smiles on their faces, a few had tears, but no one seemed to be suffering the same effects as he was.

    ¡°She¡¯s pretty good,¡± Lethelin said over the sound of clapping that was building in the inn. ¡°Academy trained, no doubt. Wonder what she¡¯s doing all the way out in the back country.¡±

    Then she saw Mitchell, trembling and sweating in his seat and a look of concern replaced her appreciative smile.

    ¡°Mitchell, what¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°What¡­?¡± He looked at her and struggled to focus. ¡°What just happened? Did everyone see that?¡±

    Lethelin looked confused, but to her credit, it only lasted a moment.

    ¡°Oh, balls,¡± she said, then her voice dropped to a near whisper. ¡°This is your first time experiencing a music mage! I¡¯m sorry, Mitchell, I didn¡¯t think.¡±

    ¡°A music mage?¡±

    The crowd was settling down and there were calls for more songs, but the singer said she needed to rest, and she would be back at the top of the next hour. She was applauded again as she left the stage, and she bowed politely. Several patrons went up to the stage and dropped coins or gemstones into the small box near the edge.

    ¡°They use spells and enchantments to enhance their performances. Her itisk ¨C the thing she was playing ¨C is enchanted, and she has spells to create visions and illusions that work in time with the music. The first time can be¡­ well, intense, as you¡¯re just now figuring out. And she¡¯s quite skilled, as I said. Not the best I¡¯ve ever seen, but certainly better than what I would expect to find in this little village.¡±

    She tried to hide the smile, but she wasn¡¯t very successful.

    ¡°I¡¯m happy you¡¯re happy,¡± he said, only a little annoyed. His head was still swimming with the visions and the beauty of it all.

    She grabbed one of the napkins and wiped the sweat from his brow.

    ¡°Poor baby,¡± she said and kissed his nose. ¡°But you¡¯ll be fine. Have a drink.¡±

    Mitchell did as she suggested, and she was right. In a few minutes his heart beat had returned to normal and he could finally take in what he¡¯d just been through. It was, he decided, one of the most moving experiences of his life. He found the memories were already fading from his mind, but the feelings it left behind were significant.

    ¡°Did you recognize the couple in the song?¡± Lethelin asked him with a grin.

    ¡°No. Was I supposed to?¡±

    The thief gave him a little grin.

    ¡°Think about it.¡±

    ¡°Okaaay,¡± he said, not sure what he was supposed to understand. How would he know who they were?

    They sat for a little bit more, and had one more cup of ale, which had started to give him a pleasant buzz, when he felt it was time to call it a night.

    ¡°If you think we¡¯ve had enough, how about heading back up to the room?¡± Mitchell offered. ¡°It¡¯s been a long day.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I think we¡¯ve gotten enough. There¡¯s been nothing here that makes me want to go creeping around in the night. And we have that nice big bed to play in.¡±

    Mitchell matched her grin with one of his own.

    ¡°That we do.¡±

    ***

    The room was equipped with its own bathroom, which Mitchell greatly appreciated. He really hated outhouses. Running water was still not common everywhere given the expense of retrofitting older buildings, but Mitchell had been told that nicer places and newer homes were having water piped in when it could be afforded. While this inn was older than such technology, they had opted to retrofit at least their nicer rooms which was why the price had been so high, Lethelin had explained.

    The biggest perk was the bathtub, though. He hadn¡¯t had a proper bath since their few days in Luvari¡¯s home while Allora was healing up. The tub wasn¡¯t the grand affair like the bathhouse in Iletish. Nor was it even as big as the bathing pool at Gilriel¡¯s house, but it was big enough for both of them to slip into, which Mitchell fully intended to do.

    ¡°Help me out?¡± Lethelin said coyly as she turned her back to him so that he could access the leather laces that tied up the corset around her waist.

    ¡°How do you even get this on without help?¡± he said as his fingers began to work the leather through the holes to loosen it.

    ¡°It takes a lot of practice,¡± she said with a chuckle. ¡°But I appreciate the extra protection around my ribs and stomach and it¡¯s not very bulky like actual armor. It will stop a slice with a knife and blunt an actual stab. It¡¯s¡ªoh, that¡¯s better!¡± she expelled a breath as Mitchell finally got it lose enough that it started to slip down. She inhaled deeply then continued. ¡°It¡¯s not much good against a sword thrust but I try not to go toe-to-toe with people using swords, anyway. I¡¯ll get something enchanted one of these days to make it even better.¡±

    The corset, or chest piece¡ªMitchell wasn¡¯t sure what it was actually called¡ªwas loose enough now that it rotated freely around her torso. She lifted her arms up over her head and Mitchell got the hint.

    ¡°So big!¡± he said in English as he started to work it up past her shoulders.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Something my mom used to stay to me when she would help me get dressed as a kid. She would say ¡®so big!¡¯¡± Mitchell translated the phrase to Common this time but it didn¡¯t sound the same at all. The intonation was all wrong, ¡°and then I would raise my arms over my head. She would slip my shirt on or off.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s cute,¡± Lethelin said as she brought her arms down and wrapped them around his neck and stared up into his eyes. Her pale cheeks still carried a bit of a flush from their ale. Her green eyes were wide and shining and her full red lips parted.

    Mitchell tossed the corset to one of the chairs and brought his arms around her slender waist. They held each other for a moment. No words spoken, just being truly alone together.

    Mitchell marveled at how he could actually love both women. Everything he¡¯d been raised with told him that loving one woman while being in love with another was tantamount to cheating. It was a betrayal of the highest order. Being here with Lethelin did not feel like a betrayal of his feelings for Allora, though. It probably helped that both women were comfortable with the situation as well. Lethelin had exhibited no jealousy when he and Allora had emerged from the woods two nights prior, nor had jealousy been evident on Allora¡¯s face when she¡¯d kissed him good bye the previous morning. Jealousy didn¡¯t really seem to be a thing most people dwelled on here. He¡¯d seen multiple polyamorous groups whenever he¡¯d been around people. There had been several with children walking around Besari. Could it really just cultural conditioning for the people on Earth? Mitchell always assumed that it was some sort of evolutionary trait.

    Mitchell decided that he didn¡¯t know and, staring at this gorgeous woman in front of him, he didn¡¯t care. He vowed not to spend another moment worrying about it. They were happy and so was he.

    Lethelin shifted her arms to his waist and closed the small gap between them and rested her cheek on his chest. Her head came to just below his chin and he rested against her as well. Outside, the sounds of the tavern were growing, but all was still muted by the thick walls and heavy oaken door. He breathed in the smell of her. A cinnamon-y citrus smell combined with the leather of her corset and the bracers she usually had around her wrists.

    ¡°Tell me you love me,¡± she said quietly without looking up. There was a timid quality to in her tone that he didn¡¯t think he¡¯d ever heard from her before.

    ¡°I love you.¡±

    ¡°Tell me that¡­¡± he heard her swallow. ¡°Tell me that you will never leave me. Because my father left me, my mother left me, Alvi left me¡­ I couldn¡¯t bare it if you and Allora left me too. If you say that you won¡¯t leave me, I will believe you.¡±

    ¡°I will never leave you. Not as long as I have breath in my lungs and strength to stand. And if I die, I will break down the gates of whatever underworld exists here until I can get back to you.¡±

    Lethelin chuckled and looked up at him at last, her emerald eyes searching, hoping.

    ¡°I believe you would really try.¡±

    ¡°There is no try,¡± he told her solemnly.

    ¡°Would you bond with me? Would the future monarch of Awenor and defender of the last elemental Awen bond with a Varset dock rat? A thief and assassin? Would you have me at your side at the palace, there next to Allora, knowing what I was and where I came from?¡±

    Mitchell studied her.

    ¡°I, Mitchell Allen, the future monarch of Awenor and defender of the last elemental Awen, would bond with you, Lethelin Na Forlia, thief and parttime assassin. I would have you at my side, next to Allora, knowing¡ªand loving¡ªwhat you are and where you came from.¡±

    There was a pregnant pause as Lethelin took in his words. Then she smiled at him and it was like she had never smiled at him before. Something changed about her in that moment. He knew then that she¡¯d made her decision.

    ¡°Hi, there,¡± he said softly and touched his nose to hers.

    She cocked her head at the strange greeting but before she could speak, he kissed her, long and deep.

 Interlude (2)

    She came to his lips eagerly and the intensity of it made her whimper and he felt her legs start to bend as her body collapsed into his. Their tongues danced around each other and his arms pulled her so tight that she grunted against the force but didn¡¯t pull away. If anything, she kissed him harder.

    Mitchell moved a hand up her back and into her curly red hair and laced his fingers through as much as he could and then squeezed his hand slowly into a fist. Lethelin¡¯s mouth broke away from his and she gasped. Mitchell watched her eyes roll back in her head as her fingernails began to push into his shirt and spear his back. He welcomed the sensation.

    Mitchell flexed his hand, squeezing the hair tighter and she hissed. Whether in pain or pleasure, Mitchell couldn¡¯t quite be sure, but he suspected it was a little of both. Her eyes came open then and there was something untamed there. Lethelin was a bit of a wild girl to begin with but this was almost manic. Her eyes were shiny with the effects of the ale they¡¯d consumed but there was also something hungry and¡ªhe thought¡ªeven a little fearful. As if she was both excited about what was going to happen or what it would mean for her if it did.

    ¡°Is this what you need?¡± Mitchell asked her, his voice pitched low and sinister.

    Thoughts of his time with Allora came back to him as he watched Lethelin¡¯s face while she processed his words. He thought about how Allora had responded to him being more dominant than he had ever been with his partners back on Earth. This was similar, but more so.

    Allora had seemed to just want him to be the one in control. She was responding to his strength more than anything. Mitchell had reasoned later that her being as strong as she was, perhaps she needed to be with someone even stronger. But watching Lethelin, who was just as deadly as Allora in her own right, albeit not as physically strong, he knew that while there were some similarities, Lethelin was responding to something else.

    Lethelin¡¯s green eyes were alight with desire. Her body pressing into his, almost writhing at his rough treatment.

    He jerked his hand and pulled her head back a few inches.

    ¡°Answer me,¡± he commanded. ¡°Is this what you need?¡±

    ¡°Ye¡ª¡± she choked and he watched her struggle to swallow with her neck extended. ¡°Yes, Mitchell.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± he corrected. ¡°And tell me clearly. I want to hear you say it.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± she repeated and he felt her shudder under his grasp once more. ¡°Please. This is what I need.¡±

    My lord had felt right with Allora but didn¡¯t feel right with Lethelin. Mitchell couldn¡¯t explain the difference or why he suddenly had the thought but he knew it was right the moment it happened.

    Mitchell leaned forward and licked her neck from the hemline of her shirt to the bottom of her chin.

    ¡°Ohh!¡± Lethelin moaned and her weight fell almost fully into his arms as her legs buckled.

    Slowly, he released the tension in her neck and she stood up, their eyes locking once more. Her pupils were so dilated that he almost couldn¡¯t see the green of her irises. She was nearly panting and Mitchell¡¯s sight was sharp enough to see the pulse throbbing in her pale slender neck.

    Mitchell pulled her away from himself by the back of her head and spun her around so fast she almost toppled over. Then he pushed her over to the bed and bent her over it. It was high enough that she had to raise herself just slightly on the balls of her feet to flex over at a ninety-degree angle. She grunted at being thrown down but didn¡¯t protest. Mitchell grabbed her arms and, with one of his hands, pinned both of hers behind her back, holding her down. She was panting now.

    Mitchell ran his hand up the inside of one leather-clad thigh, over the firm curve of her ass, and down the other. Then, without warning, he brought his hand down with a sharp crack against her cheek.

    Lethelin yelped, the sound almost as short and clipped as the slap had been, and her whole body jerked, but she didn¡¯t protest.

    ¡°Do you know why I¡¯m spanking you?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she said, her voice slightly muffled.

    Crack!

    He brought his hand down again, more forcefully this time. Lethelin moaned and she started to twist slightly in his grasp.

    ¡°No, sir,¡± he corrected her.

    ¡°No, sir,¡± she repeated, the tremble audible in her voice.

    ¡°For making me look weak in front of Elgrin.¡±

    ¡°But it was necessary to make him beli¡ªOw!¡± her explanation turned into a squeal as Mitchell¡¯s hand descended again.

    Crack! Crack!

    Mitchell struck her right cheek and then the left in quick succession. Her legs were shaking now and she sniffled.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t give you permission to speak, pet. You embarrassed me and this is your punishment. Now, will you accept your punishment like a good girl?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

    ¡°Do you need to be punished?¡±

    ¡°Yeesss,¡± Lethelin mewled again. ¡°I need to be punished, sir.¡±

    Mitchell rubbed both cheeks gently, soothing away what was almost surely an intense sting. She whimpered in relief and sagged into the bed as her muscles unclenched.

    He released her hands but she didn¡¯t move her arms or attempt to rise. Then, sliding his fingers into the waist of her leather britches, he started to tug them down over the slight swell of her slender hips and over the more generous curve of her ass. He made sure to include the simple linen panties she wore so her rear came into view all at once. Lethelin lay completely still, allowing him to do everything.

    Mitchell got down on one knee and continued to slide the travel-worn clothing down her well-toned thighs and muscled calves, taking time to admire the beautiful lines of her athletic body. He could see evidence of old battles she fought that had left their mark in the form of scars that looked like blade wounds but they didn¡¯t detract from her beauty. If anything, Mitchell thought they made her sexier. This is a woman who had earned what she had through combat. She¡¯d been tested on the streets of her city, held her own against hardened murderers, thieves, and thugs, and had come out on top. And now she fought by his side and had pledged herself to him. As he counted the ones he could see¡ªat least seven¡ªMitchell decided that the scars made him love her even more.

    Mitchell reached her feet, and slipped the leather britches and panties off and tossed them to the side. With Lethelin naked from the waist down now, he stood up to admire her. His handprints were evident on her pale skin, each finger clearly outlined. He saw her pussy now, clearly for the first time. No more covert glances as they changed, no more trying to look while not trying to stare as they had hungered for each other over the many long weeks on the road.

    The hair on her flower was slightly lighter, almost orange in color, and it wasn¡¯t as thick as Allora¡¯s had been. The sight of a woman with pubic hair was still a novelty to him as every woman he¡¯d ever been with since college had waxed or shaved religiously. But he saw nothing wrong with either Allora nor Lethelin being completely natural. There was something a little more primal about it that Mitchell found sexier in a way.

    Her pale skin glowed in the golden mage lights spaced around the room but Mitchell could still see the dampness on her lips as her body manifested her excitement at what was to come. She was so wet that little dew drops had started to form as he watched.

    Mitchell dragged his nails from the back of her knees up to her ass, letting her feel the new sensation.

    ¡°Is this what you need, pet?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± she whimpered.

    ¡°How many more times do you need to be punished?¡±

    ¡°Sir?¡± she asked, the confusion plain in her voice.

    ¡°How many spanks do you deserve for embarrassing me in front of Elgin? You¡¯ve had three already.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ umm¡­ I¡­¡±

    Mitchell could see her bite her lip as she tried to figure out what he wanted to hear.

    For Mitchell¡¯s part, at no point did he think she actually needed to be punished, but in his mind, this had taken on the quality of a game. They were role-playing this. Mitchell had never really done any sort of real BDSM play before but done some reading in the past.

    The closest he¡¯d ever gotten to it was with a woman he dated briefly after starting at his job a couple of years ago. She¡¯d been a temp working the reception desk and they¡¯d hit it off. She¡¯d had a thing for being choked but after reading about it he found out there was no really safe way to actually choke someone. The topic of BDSM play had intrigued him enough at the time that he¡¯d gone down a rabbit hole, reading blogs, watching YouTube videos, and visiting forums on Reddit.

    When he¡¯d brought the choking problem to the girl, she¡¯d said that she¡¯d done it before and it would be fine, but Mitchell had never really warmed to the idea. He was curious about BDSM but knowing how dangerous her desire was, he couldn¡¯t get into it and she grew frustrated by what she saw as his overly-cautious nature. They¡¯d broken up after a short time and she ended up taking a job at some other office across the valley in Chandler and he¡¯d never heard from her again. Thankfully, a lot of what he¡¯d spent those nights reading about was coming back to him.

    The incident with Elgrin was a pretense. Mitchell hadn¡¯t been upset about it then nor was he now. He¡¯d understood exactly what she was doing and she¡¯d done it masterfully. But it was the first thing that came to his mind when this had begun and Lethelin was playing along. He was curious what experiences she¡¯d had with this sort of thing but decided not to ask later. Whatever she¡¯d done before she met him was none of his business, anyway.

    ¡°You¡¯re taking too long,¡± Mitchell warned her. He drummed his fingers on one bare asscheek.

    ¡°Umm¡­ six more spanks, sir?¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­ A nice round number. One for each cheek. This is acceptable.¡±If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±

    ¡°Are you ready for your punishment?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

    Mitchell positioned himself to the left of her bent form and began to caress her bare cheeks. He felt her shudder at the gentle touch. He moved his hand towards the center and, middle finger leading, let it slide down between her cheeks until he found the wetness between her legs. Lethelin¡¯s back arched as he moved his finger up and down her slit, but he didn¡¯t enter her.

    Slowly, over the next several seconds, her muscles began to unclench and her breathing deepened. Still, he waited. Lethelin¡¯s hips began to gently move up and down against his fingers, and her breath started to catch every time he came into gentle contact with her clit. Almost there¡­

    ¡°Please, sir!¡± Lethelin finally whimpered.

    Mitchell immediately took his hand away, which caused her to gasp and delivered his hardest slap yet to her bare ass this time. The crack echoed through the room, sharp and angry.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s cock!¡± Lethelin screeched as her body jerking at the force of the blow.

    ¡°That¡¯s one,¡± Mitchell said as he rubbed the angry red flesh, soothing away the sting. ¡°You did tell me harder, remember?¡±

    ¡°What? When?¡± she demanded.

    Mitchell stopped his gentle caresses and he felt her tense.

    ¡°When what?¡± he asked, his voice carrying a threat.

    ¡°When, sir?¡± she corrected, her voice meek.

    ¡°That¡¯s better,¡± he cooed, and resumed his soft rubbing. He then slid his finger down to her pussy, which was significantly wetter than just a moment before. She moaned audibly at the touch and tried to push her hips back to get more pressure on her clit but he moved with her, denying her what she wanted. Seeing her like this, half naked and moaning at his mere touch, was turning him on more than he thought possible. His cock was like a steel rod in his pants and it was actually quite uncomfortable, but it wasn¡¯t time yet.

    ¡°The other morning, when I swatted your sexy little ass as we were getting up.¡±

    He could see her brows furrow as she tried to remember.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t count! I wasn¡¯t serious!¡± Then she quickly added, ¡°Sir!¡±

    ¡°Oh, so you want me to stop? You don¡¯t want your punishment?¡±

    The silence stretched for several seconds as Lethelin did battle with what she was feeling. He could see her hands, still behind her back despite him no longer holding them there, start to fidget. Mitchell didn¡¯t say a word of encouragement, one way or another. He let the silence stretch.

    ¡°No, sir,¡± she said softly. ¡°I want my punishment.¡±

    ¡°As you wish,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°How many spanks left?¡±

    ¡°Five, sir.¡±

    ¡°And is that what you need? Five more?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± the deadly assassin said, her voice small and quavering.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s continue.¡±

    Mitchell resumed stroking her ass for a few seconds, then brought his hand back and delivered another sharp smack to the opposite cheek.

    ¡°Mmmm!¡± Lethelin groaned through clenched teeth.

    ¡°How many left?

    ¡°Four, sir,¡± her voice was tight.

    Deciding to switch it up now, he delivered two more strikes, back-to-back, alternating cheeks with each blow.

    Lethelin¡¯s legs began to quiver and her gasps sounded as if they were done more in pleasure than pain now.

    ¡°Are you going to cum?¡± Mitchell asked her, using the Common word he¡¯d learned with Allora.

    ¡°I think so, sir.¡±

    She was panting and a flush was visible on her pale back.

    ¡°You don¡¯t cum until I tell you too. Do you understand?¡±

    ¡°Mmm, yes sir,¡± she whimpered. ¡°But I don¡¯t know if I can help it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d better,¡± Mitchell warned her. ¡°How many left?

    ¡°Two, sir,¡± she almost groaned.

    Mitchell¡¯s need was almost as strong as hers and he was having real trouble not ripping his pants off and fucking her right there, but he knew that would spoil the mood. He was greatly enjoying the dynamic and Lethelin was, too. So he shifted his erection around in his britches to try and ease some of the pressure, and prepared to give Lethelin her final two swats.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been very good for me, my pet.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±

    Mitchell brought his hand down harder this time and the crack echoed throughout the room, followed immediately by Lethelin¡¯s whimper and gasp. He could see her whole backside start to clench up as she moaned.

    ¡°Don¡¯t cum,¡± Mitchell warned her.

    ¡°Yeeesss, sir,¡± Lethelin said as her body started to shudder and she fought to control herself.

    ¡°How many left?¡±

    ¡°Wuh¡­ One, sir. One. One. One,¡± she was saying, almost to herself at this point as her mind entered something Mitchell knew to be called subspace.

    It was that mental state where the sub, male or female, fully embraced the situation.

    ¡°That¡¯s right. But if you cum, we start all over again.¡±

    Lethelin moaned, half in fear, half in unbearable anticipation.

    ¡°I won¡¯t, sir. I promise.¡±

    Mitchell ran a finger down the crack of her ass again and let it just graze her pussy. She was so wet now that it was literally running in little rivulets down her leg. Once he made contact with her opening she gasped and jerked her pussy away as much as she was able.

    ¡°Please no, sir!¡± she pleaded. ¡°I¡¯ll cum if you do that! Please no, please no.¡±

    Her whole body was shaking now under the stress of trying to prevent her orgasm and Mitchell found it amazing to watch. And knowing that he had done that to her with just a few words, a few slaps, and his finger gave him a rush of excitement that almost rivaled the actual sex itself. His body burned for her. He felt his skin grow hot as his desire coursed through him. His entire essence seemed focused on his cock as he battled his own desire to take her immediately.

    ¡°Good things come to those who wait,¡± Mitchell reminded himself.

    He had no idea where this side of his sexuality had been hiding but he found that he liked it. He liked it a lot.

    Rather than speak, he brought his hand down one final time on her other cheek, although truth be told he barely remembered and they were both as red as apples on harvest day.

    As the echo of the final strike rang in his ears he could hear Lethelin fighting to control her breath. Her hands had flown from her back and were gripping the blankets into tight balls of tortured fabric. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her lips pressed together, and her breath was coming out in powerful blasts from her nose. She was up on her toes, every muscle taut as she fought against her own body.

    Mitchell didn¡¯t speak and he didn¡¯t touch her again. He let the moment settle, knowing instinctively somehow that she was at her limit and he needed to let her process everything that just happened. He took those couple of minutes to slowly undress, starting with his simple shirt and then unlacing his leather pants.

    Naked, his cock finally free, he stepped up to Lethelin as her breathing started to slow. He saw her hands unclench. He laid his cock on her ass and he heard her gasp.

    ¡°You did very well,¡± Mitchell told her, his voice soothing and gentle. ¡°Are you ready for your reward?¡±

    Lethelin swallowed and then croaked out, ¡®Thank you, sir. Yes, sir.¡±

    Mitchell adjusted his hips and placed the head of his cock at her entrance which brought a long mewling sound from her parched throat.

    ¡°And Lethelin?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir?¡± she whimpered as the sensations he was giving her were amping up the tension again. She was a live wire beneath him.

    ¡°You can cum now.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, si¡ªOh, Stollar¡¯s fucking cock!¡± Lethelin screamed as Mitchell placed his hands on the curve of her hips and pushed himself all the way into her soaking pussy with one smooth stroke.

    It was pure bliss. She was hot, wet, and so very tight. Her breathing was ragged now and Mitchell felt his own heartbeat thudding in his chest. He didn¡¯t think it was possible to get more turned on than he had been with Allora but the long build up with Lethelin had him just as amped up as she was.

    Mitchell didn¡¯t move. He held himself inside her velvety embrace as he felt her body tremble around his length.

    ¡°Pleasesirpleasesirpleasesir,¡± she was whimpering as her hands grasped at the quilt once more.

    Slowly, painstakingly, Mitchell began to back out of her and he reveled in the sensation of feeling her tight around him as he withdrew.

    ¡°Ooooooo,¡± Lethelin moaned.

    ¡°Jeeesus Christ,¡± Mitchell moaned in reply as his brain slipped back into English.

    ¡°Jee-jush kist, Stollar, Denass, the two bloody fucking moons! Fuck me, sir!¡± Lethelin swore.

    Mitchell obliged. He drove back into her and then out again suddenly. Her body rocked forward under the power but she still managed to push herself onto him as he moved forward. He buried himself in her with each stroke and she accepted him fully.

    ¡°Oh, Fates! Oh, Fates! Mitchell I¡¯m cumming!¡± she squealed as he continued his powerful thrusts.

    ¡°That¡¯s a good pet,¡± Mitchell growled. ¡°Cum for me. Cum for me now!¡±

    Her voice rose to a crescendo and it was so loud Mitchell wondered if someone outside would think he was killing her but he didn¡¯t dare stop. He was too close himself.

    On the bed in front of him, their two bodies still joined at the hips, Lethelin body seized as an orgasm claimed her. Her throat locked up and her screams of pleasure became nothing more than gurgles and gasps as every muscle in her body went rigid and her pussy clamped down on him like a blood pressure cuff.

    Mitchell lifted her lower half off the ground now and began pulling her towards him as her body ragdolled on the bed. She was even lighter than Allora, being several inches shorter and, while in excellent shape, not having nearly the same amount of muscle mass. He was grunting with every thrust, feeling the pressure build in his balls as he claimed her.

    Unable to hold back any longer, Mitchell released into her with an inarticulate scream and it felt like his soul poured out of his body and into her eager and accepting tunnel. He staggered, setting her down quickly, and coming forward on to the bed on his hands to avoid landing right on top of her. His chest heaved as he worked to catch his breath. Over the sounds of his own labored breathing he could hear Lethelin¡¯s low moans that she exhaled with every breath.

    Mitchell brushed the hair out of her face to see her skin beet red, beaded with sweat, mouth partially open and eyes closed. Words started to become audible in her breathy exhalations.

    ¡°Thank you, sir,¡± she was mumbling to herself as her body settled.

    He lowered himself down and kissed her damp cheek.

    ¡°You did very good, pet.¡±

    A small smile curled her lips.

    ¡°I like it when you call me that, sir.¡±

    ¡°Do you?¡± he asked, as he kissed the delicate folds of her ear.

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± she said, her voice dreamy. ¡°It makes me feel warm inside.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s not my cock?¡± Mitchell chuckled and Lethelin giggled in reply. He was still inside her, slowly starting to soften but he found himself reluctant to move. She clenched the muscles in her pussy, giving him a squeeze, perhaps just to show she could, and Mitchell shuddered at the sensation.

    ¡°Not just that,¡± she answered, ¡°sir.¡±

    Mitchell did extract himself then and they both groaned at the loss of sensation. Then he crawled up on the bed and turned her over, hugging her small body into his arms. She came willingly, bending almost into a fetal position as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. She brought her head up and met his eyes and she stared for a long time.

    ¡°Mitchell, no one has ever made me feel that way before. Not ever. How did you do that?¡±

    Now that the moment had passed, her normal personality was back. Mitchell also wasn¡¯t insisting on any of that ¡®sir¡¯ talk, either. He was perfectly happy to let that sort of language stay in the bedroom, as it were. He certainly wouldn¡¯t expect either Allora or Lethelin behave that way when they were walking around.

    ¡°It¡¯s something I learned about on Earth. Honestly, I had never done much like that before, but as we started playing, a lot of what I read came back to me.¡±

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s swinging cock,¡± she said with a note of awe in her voice. ¡°Allora didn¡¯t explain anything like that.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t do that with Allora,¡± he said. ¡°There was a little hint of that, but I don¡¯t think she would have responded the same way.¡±

    ¡°Huh¡­¡± Lethelin said, pondering. ¡°Can I tell her about it?¡±

    ¡°As you like,¡± Mitchell said, and then leaned down and kissed her softly. ¡°My pet.¡±

    ¡°Mmmm,¡± she moaned as her hands roamed his back. ¡°Say it again.¡±

    ¡°My beautiful, sexy, deadly, passionate, amazing pet.¡±

    From her place in nestled in his arms, she gazed up at him and her eyes had gone a little misty.

    ¡°Mitchell¡­¡± she said tentatively. ¡°I¡­ I really love you.¡±

    ¡°And I really love you. Now, what¡¯s say we give that tub a try?¡±

    She blushed deep scarlet then, but nodded.

    The extricated themselves from the bed and he worked out how to get the water running. It operated on a similar system to the way the doors had at the bathhouse in Besari.

    There were two small stones set into the faucet mechanism, one for the hot and one for the cold. They user didn¡¯t need magic to work, one only needed to touch them. Quickly water began to gush from the tap and Mitchell worked out how to use the lever between the two gemstones to control the amount of each flow to get the desired temperature.

    The tub itself was set onto flagstones and were angled inward from all sides where any excess water would be funneled toward a drain sitting directly under the large metal tub. Pretty clever, Mitchell thought.

    Lethelin stepped up to the tub, fully naked now, and he marveled once again at her pale beauty. She saw him admiring her.

    ¡°Brought the soap,¡± she said, and held up a small light orange bar and a natorki, the little loofah-like sponge that was used for bathing here.

    She stepped forward, her hair a tousled mess, and they kissed once more.

    ¡°I could get used to that,¡± he said.

    ¡°You¡¯d better,¡± she chided.

    Mitchell stepped in the deliciously warm water and then held Lethelin¡¯s hand as she stepped over the side and joined him. He sank down and she followed, setting herself between his legs and leaned into him. The soap went into the water and the sweet scent of lana fruit began to fill the damp air.

    They sat like that for a while, at first saying nothing, and then they began to talk of simple things. Outside the room, the noise on the first floor began to quiet down and a song began to drift to their ears. The music mage was working her magic once again. Even muted by the thick walls, it was beautiful.

    Eventually they began to wash each other off. Clean and dry, they returned to the bed.

    Mitchell pulled her nude form into his and she came. Even after all they¡¯d just been through, they were still hungry for each other. They made love then. There were no spanks, no words of dominance or submission, just quiet, steady passion. Their bodies moved in a rhythm new to them, but familiar all the same. When the release came, it was much gentler, yet somehow more intense than before.

    A short time later, as they lay in each other¡¯s arms, Lethelin said quietly, ¡°I miss Allora.¡±

    ¡°Me, too.¡±

 Chapter 67 - Vras

    Despite being well past sundown on a cloudy night, the tar dens were perfectly visible to Vras as he prowled the rooftops without fear. He was gratha. He would only be seen if he wanted to be seen. And the two-legs were so blind in the dark that he often wondered how they moved at all.

    The tar s¡¯thyr had asked him to stay in the forest, but Vras knew that to be a stupid request. The tar ara¡¯tiss had asked Vras to protect the tar s¡¯thyr and he couldn¡¯t very well do that in the forest.

    Once the sun had set Vras left the cover of the forest and crossed the open space, slinking silent as a shadow through the grass. Scaling the walls was no more of a problem than ascending the trees had been. He had gone around the tar den once, sticking to the walls, and keeping his eyes and nose alert for anything that might be a threat. Finding nothing but the scent of the two-legs and their animal companions, he had begun leaping deftly from rooftop to rooftop to inspect them more closely. This had proved somewhat more difficult as many of the smaller dens had slick stone covering them and his claws were unable to find purchase. But once he figured out that the top of each pitched surface was the most stable, he was able to more easily navigate as he continued his patrol.

    Vras felt the pull to the tar s¡¯thyr and was able to track him to the larger two-leg den where many tars had gathered. Their voices were almost painfully loud to his sensitive ears after so long in the quiet of the forest. Their speech was a confusing mix of words that he struggled to sort out, and soon he stopped trying. With concentration, he was able to understand the tar s¡¯thyr, Maula, and the tar ara¡¯tiss, but it had taken him many days of work. It was a source of great frustration for Vras that the tar s¡¯thyr could not understand him in turn without using his magic, but the shadow cat could see no solution to that problem. It was just something that must be endured. And Vras was gratha. He could endure it.

    Once he had located the den in which the tar s¡¯thyr would be sleeping, he continued to patrol. Some of the tar that entered the walls had strange scents upon them, and he could see the glow of magic about many, and those he watched more carefully. Their ornaments that many wore on their hands or heads glowed like firelight to his sight. Some wore clothing that glowed similarly, albeit less brightly. Others had weapons with the glow, some bright and some faint.

    Vras didn¡¯t like it that some of those who glowed with magic went into the den where the tar s¡¯thyr and Maula were resting, but he would not enter unless he heard sounds of battle. He would enjoy greatly the fear his presence would create among the two-legs, as is proper, but Vras knew that the tar s¡¯thyr would not be pleased. Even less so if he killed them. So Vras contented himself with nestling in the shadows of a den across from where his charge was resting to watch and hope for the thrill of battle.

    After a few hours, the noise inside the large den began to subside. Some who had gone in began to emerge, strange and harsh alchemical fumes coming from their skin that he could smell even from his position high on the roofs. Many, he saw, were having trouble staying on their feet. They stumbled into the darkness, and Vras followed some who glowed more brightly with magic than others to see where they would bed down in case they proved to be a threat later.

    Once the streets were clear, Vras returned to the large den and made his way to the roof, where he would stay until he sensed the tar s¡¯thyr wake. There was still some noise from within, but he found he could tolerate it now. Vras kept his body low and his eyes alert. He expected no trouble but was ever vigilant. The tar s¡¯thyr must live to carry out the great hunt, and so Vras would see that he survived.

    He did not know how he knew this, but he did. He could sense it. It had confused him when he had first met him on the mountains. His initial instinct was to attack, even though the two-legs was much bigger. But something kept him back. Something had whispered that he must not kill this two-legs.

    And Vras knew this was not some oddity of all two-legs now that he had been around them so much. It was only the tar s¡¯thyr that pulled at him and commanded his loyalty and obedience.

    Vras glanced briefly beyond the walls to the living forest with its flickering lights that none of the two-legs could see. Really, why did they even have eyes if they did not use them? He felt guilty. Almost. But that was nonsense, he understood. Gratha knew no guilt. The tar s¡¯thyr did not understand what he had asked, and Vras had not bothered to explain it. This is just how it must be.

    The wind changed and a gust of air came wafting through the holes in the den below. It carried a fresh scent of all the two-legs in the den and stirred the ancient hunger within him. He once again fought his nature. Always there was the desire to rend their flesh and slake his thirst with their blood. The urge to take down the weaker ones as they stumbled half-blind through the dark was so powerful that his muscles actually started to twitch as he resisted the pull, the ever-present craving to feel that magic pouring over his tongue and to savor the warm meat. To be gratha was to have this desire. To be gratha meant to crave the sound of your prey¡¯s death. His mother had explained this to him early as they stalked the mountains together.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    His mother. It had been many dawns since he¡¯d thought about her. Vras found he struggled to remember the scent of her now. His memories had grown hazy over time. He tried to remember how many dawns it had been, but it was difficult for him. Vras was gratha. Life between one kill and the next held little meaning for gratha. The hunt was what they yearned for. The blood, the terror. Why remember anything of the in-between?

    But he remembered the hated farisk. How it had swooped in on silent wings and tried to pull his mother into the sky. He remembered the pitched battle and the triumph when his mother had ripped the cursed wing from the farisk¡¯s body. How it had screamed! How the blood had poured out of its mortal wound. It had glowed so brightly that it had hurt Vras¡¯s eyes to see it. Pain and fear made the blood glow brighter, made it taste better. Made the meat sweeter. And his mother had made it suffer.

    ¡°Hello, little one,¡± a voice suddenly said from behind.

    He reacted instantly, all six powerful legs thrusting him up and spinning him around, fangs bared and ready to¡ª

    Vras was halted instantly as his eyes fell upon the creature that had somehow come upon him unawares. He fell back on his rear four paws, stunned, and gazed in wonder at the sight before him. The creature seemed to be made of light. Vras¡¯s rage and battle lust evaporated immediately as the warm radiance of an alien yet familiar sun washed over him. He blinked and tried to focus and slowly the shape became clearer. His eyes adjusted to the light of the powerful magic the creature possessed. It was a female two-legs, but not like the others. Her hair, skin, and eyes were as pale as the snow in the peaks.

    ¡°I must confess, I did not expect to find a gratha this far from the mountains. What brings you to a two-leg den?¡±

    ¡°I am protecting the tar s¡¯thyr,¡± Vras said simply.

    The woman let out a tinkling laugh.

    ¡°Are you, now?¡± the creature said and she cast a rueful glance at where one of the moons was peeking through the clouds. ¡°Oh, Vish, your father will not be pleased.¡±

    She laughed again and clapped her hands.

    Vras suddenly realized the female creature was speaking to him in his own language.

    She was not using the magical words that the tar s¡¯thyr used that made his whiskers tingle.

    ¡°What are you?¡±

    One of her white eyebrows raised.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know? Did your mother not tell you of the people of your homeland?¡±

    ¡°My mother died in a fight with a farisk.¡±

    Vras sent the flashes of his memory of the battle to the creature.

    ¡°Oh,¡± the creature smiled. ¡°Your mother was magnificent. All of the blood! You must have been dazzled.

    Vras flicked his ears in agreement.

    ¡°I am Luvari, little one.¡±

    This creature, Luvari, crossed over to him, bold and unafraid, and stroked his ears. A shiver ran through his whole body at her touch. Vras leaned into it and began to purr. The pads at the end of his tentacles opened up, and he plucked gently at the skin of her hand.

    As her fingers worked into his fur, around his ears, and then down to his neck, visions began to enter his mind. Visions of a land so cold and frozen yet so full of light and power that Vras was stunned by it. He saw more creatures like her, and he saw other gratha prowling both the blackness of winter and summer lands. He saw some of them walking alongside creatures like the one beside him, and others doing battle with them. Glorious fights with blood glowing so brightly that it looked metallic. Then he saw gratha under other suns and other stars, hunting beasts he had no name for. He saw all that and more besides.

    ¡°My kind made you, little one. We made you to be the perfect hunters. The perfect killers. Tell me, what was your mother¡¯s name?¡±

    Vras sent her the image of midnight-black claws slashing a throat.

    ¡°Yes, I remember her. She came prowling around my cabin once, many years ago, before you were born.¡±

    Suddenly, an image appeared in Vras¡¯s mind of his mother. Her scent once again flooded his nostrils, and he felt a longing for her that he had almost forgotten.

    ¡°What I remember of her,¡± she said. ¡°To keep you company as you guard the tar s¡¯thyr.¡±

    Vras was overcome with a feeling he didn¡¯t know how to describe. So instead, he licked her hand and purred.

    ¡°Do you guard him also?¡± Vras asked her.

    ¡°No, little one. I just check in on him from time to time. I have plans for him.¡±

    ¡°A great hunt,¡± Vras said. It wasn¡¯t a question.

    ¡°Indeed,¡± she said with another laugh. ¡°That is one way to think about it. I am pleased to know a gratha will be by his side.¡±

    The woman closed her eyes and the surrounding magic began to swirl and flare, the intensity making him squint, but he did not look away. Then the light dimmed, and she opened her eyes once again and looked to where the moon would be if it were not obscured by the clouds.

    ¡°Yes,¡± she said, her voice low and sinister. ¡°Vish, you are a crafty bitch.¡± Then Luvari turned her attention back to Vras. ¡°You will taste the blood of many foes, little one. But you will not be little for long. All will fear you and despair.¡±

    Vras felt his chest swell with pride.

    ¡°I am gratha. This is how it must be.¡±

    The woman knelt then and brought her silvery-white eyes level with his, and he saw something he recognized there. She knew the lust for battle and blood as well. She knew the hunger.

    ¡°Yes,¡± she said, her voice echoing some dark need that resonated in Vras¡¯s chest. ¡°That is how it must be.¡±

    Her ice-pale eyes grew large in his vision, and Vras felt himself swallowed by them, falling into a wintery world where warmth was not even a memory. Where this creature and her kind were all-powerful, and where gratha prowled almost uncontested.

    ¡°Your mother died before she taught you all that you needed to know,¡± Luvari said. ¡°I can teach you some. Watch, and learn.¡±

    And Vras did.

 Chapter 68

    ¡°Are you sure? One more game before you have to leave, aye?¡±

    ¡°Apologies, good master Elgrin, but we must be on our way. With the last of our purchases being delivered, it is time for us to go. We have many miles to cover today.¡±

    Lethelin touched her thumb to her heart and her head and bid him farewell.

    ¡°Aye, as you say,¡± he nodded more than a little disappointed. ¡°But do come and see us again.¡±

    ¡°If it be Stollar¡¯s will,¡± Mitchell said as he tightened the straps on his pack. The extra thickness of his new armor required some adjustments. ¡°We enjoyed the stay. And the room.¡±

    ¡°Yes, the room is quite nice,¡± Lethelin agreed.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s will, aye,¡± he nodded causing some of the trinkets woven into his beard to jingle. ¡°Safe travels to you both.¡±

    With that, Mitchell and Lethelin headed back towards the western gate. The sky was still dark off to the west but the first hints of light could be seen creeping up over the tips of the peaks some miles to the east. The air was crisp and cool as they passed under the stout wooden beams and started upon the path back to Gilriel¡¯s. From the corner of his eye, Mitchell saw Lethelin wince ever so slightly and there was a hitch in her step.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    She gave him a sidelong glance and he saw a little color flair in her alabaster cheeks. ¡°My ass is still a little tender from last night. You could have healed me when we were done.¡±

    Mitchell grinned.

    ¡°I could have, but then you wouldn¡¯t have it as a reminder today. I like that it makes you remember all that we did.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s kind of the problem,¡± she said under her breath. ¡°I can¡¯t stop thinking about it and it¡¯s making me wet! I want you to rip my clothes off and take me in the middle of the road!¡±

    Mitchell pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.

    ¡°That would certainly get them talking seeing as we¡¯re still in sight of the town.¡±

    ¡°It would,¡± she agreed, with a thoughtful look. ¡°Although, an audience might be fun.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll ask Allora when we get back.¡±

    ¡°Oooo,¡± Lethelin said with a sly grin.

    They weren¡¯t through the trees more than a few minutes when a black void emerged from the dense underbrush and began to trot alongside Mitchell.

    ¡°How was your night alone?¡± Mitchell asked the shadow cat.

    ¡°Frustrating. Hunting is poor this close to the two-leg settlement. And you would not let me eat the other two-legs, even though they are not friends.¡±

    ¡°Not if they are no threat,¡± Mitchell repeated the instructions he¡¯d given Vras before they entered Clayfaire. ¡°If we are attacked or in battle, you are free to do whatever is necessary to protect yourself or me and the girls. But until then don¡¯t attack any of the two-legs.¡±

    Vras sneezed indignantly but didn¡¯t argue. As they walked, Mitchell noticed that Vras¡¯s head was now even with his waist. It hadn¡¯t even been a month since they¡¯d found him in the mountains and he had nearly doubled in size. Mitchell recalled the damage dogs like pit bulls could do to a person and knew that Vras would make chew toys of a pit. He shuddered at the thought of what his companion could do to a human even now.

    Mitchell reached out his hand and scratched behind Vras¡¯s ears.

    ¡°It¡¯s good to see you though. I¡¯m glad you are safe.¡±

    The cup ends of Vras¡¯s tentacles spread open and they picked gently at the back of Mitchell¡¯s hand as he scratched the big animal. The creature had enough control over the little claw-like hooks that it used to latch onto prey that he could tug at the skin of Mitchell¡¯s hand but not break it.

    ¡°I, as well.¡±

    As they walked on, setting a quick but not hurried pace, the morning turned into afternoon and the sun climbed high. It was warmer today than it had been previously and Mitchell found himself sweating under the extra layers of the gambeson and brigandine. The weight was inconsequential, especially with his increased physical strength, but it was definitely harder to keep cool. And he could feel where it didn¡¯t fit quite right and he wasn¡¯t looking forward to the chafing he knew would follow. He had been tempted to take it off but Lethelin warned him not to.

    ¡°It¡¯s better to get used to it now. And you¡¯ll have to begin sparring in it as well. It will throw off your balance and timing and you have to learn to adapt. Even with the light armor I wear, I had to spend time practicing in it.¡±

    Mitchell sighed at the inconvenience, but didn¡¯t argue with her. He remembered back to his time as a captive and the mercenaries wearing their armor, even in the heat of the desert. This wasn¡¯t nearly that hot and if those bastards could do it, he knew he could handle this. He shifted it around, wiped some sweat from his face, took a drink of water, and pressed on.

    Vras turned out to be surprisingly good at keeping them on the path. He could smell their trail from when they had traveled this way the day before and so there was no time lost as they tried to stay on course by following landmarks that they had memorized before leaving the grove. While Mitchell believed what Lethelin had told him about the gods here sometimes being capricious, it was hard to see Vras as anything but a gift. Their shadowy companion set out to roaming far ahead of them out of boredom at their much slower pace, but always returned after a while, sometimes with something in his mouth to offer to Mitchell, sometimes not.

    ¡°I think he likes checking up on you,¡± Lethelin said bemusedly after Vras showed up after nearly an hour away, circled them a couple of times, sniffed, then bounded off into the forest again without a word.

    ¡°He said he has to protect the tar s¡¯thyr, so I think he looks at it like his responsibility.¡± Stolen novel; please report.

    ¡°If he wasn¡¯t a nightmare made flesh, it would be sweet.¡±

    It was getting close to evening with the sun dropped low enough that Mitchell could no longer see it through the canopy when he decided they should think about camping. They¡¯d made good time but hadn¡¯t been pushing hard. He figured they had another four to five hours of walking before they got to the grove and it was just as easily done in the morning.

    They found a relatively level patch of ground between the squat and gnarled trees and Lethelin began to clear away a space for a fire while he gathered up wood. As he stood up with the last few branches for this load, a strange smell hit his nose.

    He had grown accustomed to his sharper senses overall, but occasionally something would stand out much more than something else to the point that it drew his attention. This was one such instance. It smelled¡­

    Mitchell inhaled again and turned into the wind that had been blowing from their backs as they walked southwest from Clayfaire.

    It smelled like a gym locker room. Mitchell wrinkled his nose at the foul odor like old sweat and unwashed towels. Why would¡­?

    Mitchell¡¯s eyes went wide as realization hit him. He dropped the bundle of wood and drew his sword.

    ¡°Leth!¡± he called in warning back toward the camp and began to sprint the short distance.

    ¡°Balls!¡± Mitchell heard from somewhere behind him. ¡°Go now!¡± the voice shouted.

    Mitchell heard the unmistakable sounds of bow strings releasing. Not even stopping to think, he snapped the blade burst spell into existence as he ran. The spell formed around him almost instantly and his vision was clouded slightly by the spectral forms of thousands of arcane knives spinning like a cyclone with him in the eye of the storm. Sure enough, he heard the sound he had learned to recognize in his practice. At least two arrows hit the spell and were sliced to splinters. Mitchell let the spell run its course and didn¡¯t cast it again, trusting the cover of the trees to shield him from whomever was behind him.

    ¡°Close in!¡± the gruff voice called. ¡°Move!¡±

    The clearing was up ahead and Mitchell could see Lethelin just standing up with a confused look on her face.

    Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Lethelin¡¯s bright green eyes started to widen seeing him running full tilt with sword drawn. He heard the sound of another bow string behind him and he started to yell at her to get down but it was too slow. Everything was too damned slow!

    Lethelin saw them, then. Whomever was behind. Her hand began to reach for her own bow, but it was too late. The arrow that had been fired was not coming for him, this one had been aimed at her. Mitchell had no spell to stop it.

    The arrow came streaking in from Mitchell¡¯s right and it took Lethelin high in her chest on her left side. The force of it spun her around, her gorgeous coppery red hair spinning in a wide arc and she fell.

    ¡°No!¡± Mitchell screamed as the world sped up with startling quickness.

    Three more meters and he was in the clearing. Lethelin was down and on her side moving but she wasn¡¯t getting up.

    ¡°Mitchell,¡± she coughed. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯ve been shot.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t move!¡±

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t planning on it,¡± her voice was high and tight, her breathing starting to get ragged through the pain.

    Behind him, he heard the sounds of several sets of footsteps. They were closing in.

    He kneeled down to try and assess her. The arrow has passed clean through and the barbed tip was sticking about three inches out of her back. Small favor, he thought. He didn¡¯t think it hit an artery but there was still a steady stream of blood coming out of the wound. There was no way he had time to dress it, though. They were coming.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± he snarled and spun to face his attackers.

    He could see four of them darting through the trees wearing light tan and green clothes. Not the best camouflage among the darker browns and deep greens of the forest, but they weren¡¯t really going for stealth. He saw one peek from behind a tree and a bow fired again, but Mitchell was ready this time. He dodged it easily, not even needing his spell. His vision had no trouble tracking the arrow and he took a step to the side. The arrow slammed harmlessly into a trunk behind him.

    Mitchell returned fire with the arcane missile spell and he was rewarded with all of his shots landing solidly into the tree where the one with the arrow had fired, but it was just to force them to stay behind cover. He hadn¡¯t expected the attack to hit. Still, he was pleased to hear a string of curse words at the sudden explosion of bark.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to have to do better than that, you fucking cowards,¡± Mitchell taunted.

    He could feel his anger growing in his chest, like a blast furnace stoking to life. They had come up on them in secret, attacked without warning, and now Lethelin was hurt. The embers of his rage surged hot and all consuming. There would be no mercy for these men, whomever they were.

    ¡°Where¡¯s the knight, boy?¡± the gruff voice called from his right. He had a strange accent that Mitchell hadn¡¯t heard before. ¡°She¡¯s the one we want.¡±

    Another movement from his left. In the growing darkness, Mitchell saw sparks of light about twenty meters through the trees and he heard the crackle of electricity. Diving behind the nearest tree, arcane lightning arced through the clearing passing just a few feet above Lethelin¡¯s head. She screamed and tried to cover herself, crying out in pain at the sudden movement.

    Mitchell thought furiously. There were at least four of them and they were spread out, forming a semi-circle around the camp. There was at least one magic user. Lethelin was down and she was hurt bad. Going for either side would not only leave him exposed to the two behind him, but also leave Lethelin undefended. He needed a distraction. He needed¨C¡±

    A growl sounded from above his head. Mitchell looked up and saw a shadow among shadows crouched on a branch with glittering emerald eyes.

    ¡°There you are!¡± he said, relief washing over him.

    ¡°Maula is bleeding. Did the other two-legs do this?¡±

    ¡°Yes! They are here to attack us. They want Allora.¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s he talking to?¡± one of the voices called out.

    ¡°Balls if I know. Maybe he¡¯s using a message spell,¡± another voice answered.

    ¡°Get in there, Dennik! You and Larin go from the left and I¡¯ll go right with Henerton.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s even him? We haven¡¯t seen the knight all afternoon.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s him. And if it¡¯s not, I¡¯ll head back there and take that old drunk¡¯s head myself. If the knight¡¯s not here, he knows where she is. Now get in there or I¡¯ll feed you to the nearest troll!¡±

    The low growl coming from Vras¡¯s chest grew in intensity and Mitchell once again felt the hairs all over his body stand on end. It must be some sort of instinctive response to hearing the sound of one¡¯s own death, he figured.

    ¡°May I kill these two-legs?¡±

    ¡°Mitchell¡­I don¡¯t feel so good.¡± Lethelin said.

    She lay on one side, her head at an odd angle. The arrow sticking out of her back wouldn¡¯t let her lay flat.

    ¡°Kill them,¡± Mitchell said coldly as he looked up into the eyes of, to use Lethelin¡¯s own words, a walking nightmare. ¡°Go for the magic user first. Then, take the other one on the left. Show them the power of gratha. I¡¯ll take the two on the right.¡±

    Mitchell could just make out the ear flick and then Vras was gone. Even watching him move away down a branch, Mitchell couldn¡¯t hear a thing. He wondered for a moment if he should pity the men for what was about to happen to them, but then Lethelin coughed and groaned and that thought vanished from his head like a cockroach hiding from the light.

    ¡°You boys really fucked up today,¡± Mitchell called out around the tree. He needed to buy a little time for Vras to get into position.

    Mitchell could hear them creeping closer. He could even judge the distance. Two sets of feet, moving cautiously over the uneven ground, maybe just four or five meters behind now. Their breathing was deep but even. No panicked breaths. They were cautious but confident. This wasn¡¯t their first rodeo.

    Then there were the two on the right, a little farther back. They were going from tree to tree also, but not as quickly.

    ¡°How you figure that, boy?¡± the gruff voice said with a chuckle. ¡°If the knight was with you, I¡¯d be worried sure enough. Any man would. But we¡¯ve been following you since we caught your trail this morning. It¡¯s just you and the fiery haired one. So, I think we¡¯ll be okay.¡±

    Mitchell laughed then. He laughed loud and long and he actually felt a couple of tears roll down his face.

    ¡°You¡­¡± Mitchell sucked in a breath through the last few chuckles. ¡°You really should have watched more closely, then.¡±

    ¡°Eh? Why¡¯s that?¡± Confusion was clear in the man¡¯s voice.

    ¡°You figure he¡¯s gone crazy?¡± a new voice asked. Henerton, Mitchell assumed.

    ¡°Because,¡± Mitchell called back to them through panting breaths, ¡°there weren¡¯t just the two of us.¡±

 Chapter 69

    From Mitchell¡¯s left, there was suddenly a blood-curdling scream. A scream of such utter terror that it sent ice coursing through Mitchell¡¯s veins. There was a flash as magic split the darkening forest, but the spell must have not had the desired effect.

    ¡°Help! Larin! Larin! Help It¡¯s a¨C¡±

    Whatever words that poor bastard had been about to say ended in more high-pitched wailing and then the forest went utterly silent. No night birds chirped, no insects hummed and the air had stopped. It was as if the forest itself knew death stalked the branches and everything was trying to go unnoticed.

    ¡°Dennik!¡± screamed a voice to the left. ¡°Dennik, where¡¯d you go? Balls and cock, man! Say something!¡±

    ¡°That must be Larin,¡± Mitchell thought.

    ¡°What in the nine hells happened?¡± the leader screamed out, panic making his voice shrill.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know! Something pulled Dennik up into the trees. Something¡ªOh, balls and fucking taint!¡± The man screamed.

    ¡°What is it?¡± the gruff voice shouted.

    ¡°It¡¯s his fucking arm! His fucking arm just dropped down from the tree!¡±

    Mitchell began to hum an old tune, discordant and ominous. Then, when it got to the line he wanted, he called out in a sing-song voice, ¡°I am the devil, and I¡¯m coming for you.¡±

    Once again, he lamented not being able to say it in English as the cadence and intonation worked so much better, but he wanted them to understand his words.

    ¡°What do we do, sergeant? There¡¯s something in the trees.¡±

    ¡°Oh balls,¡± Lenik screamed out. ¡°Sergeant, there¡¯s something he¨C¡±

    The screams started again. And they kept going this time.

    ¡°Sergeant! Help! Ahhh¡­¡±

    ¡°Larin!¡± the voice of the sergeant rang out. ¡°Henerton, get over there and help him.¡±

    There was no response.

    ¡°Denass burn your soul, you coward! I¡¯ll see you flogged for this!¡±

    ¡°Mother! Mother help!¡± the dying man screamed into the uncaring night. Those were the last actual words that he ever managed to say. The rest was nothing more than shrieking. Closing his mind to the terror of the poor bastard who just had the unfortunate luck of meeting a gratha, Mitchell made his move. He knew he wouldn¡¯t get a better chance. He hated the man who¡¯d shot Lethelin, and still those high, pitiful screams were turning his bowels to water. He couldn¡¯t imagine what it was doing to his friends..

    With the sounds of the man¡¯s torment filling the night, Mitchell bolted from the tree and veered just to the left where the one called Henerton was standing, crouched behind a tree about three meters behind where Mitchell had been. He could see them clearly, even in the gloom. Hernton was a stocky human, about thirty years old or so, with a day¡¯s growth of stubble on his squarish face. He had on a leather helmet fashioned in the same color as his light tan and green clothing and Mitchell spotted a gambeson not unlike his own under the cloak he wore at his shoulders. He had a sword in his right hand and, when Mitchell broke from behind the tree, he saw him looking over about two meters at where his sergeant, whose name Mitchell still didn¡¯t know, was also crouched. He was an orc, Mitchell now saw, and a big one. Then again, Mitchell had yet to see a small orc. Maybe they came out of the womb six-and-a-half feet tall.

    Seeing the size of the orc confirmed his decision to go for the smaller human instead. This way he could focus all of his attention on the former and not have to worry about his back. As he charged, he fired three quick arcane missiles at the sergeant to keep him pinned long enough to take care of Henerton. It had the desired effect and the startled orc dove behind the tree to avoid the streaking bolts of energy flying at him.

    ¡°Fucking taint!¡± Henerton shouted and brought his blade up to meet Mitchell¡¯s strike.

    The man had been startled, but not as much as Mitchell had hoped. His training took over and he was only put out for a second which meant Mitchell was going to have to work a little harder for this one.

    Their blades clanged together and Mitchell felt the power in the stocky man¡¯s form. He was shorter than Mitchell by a few inches, but he was very broad in the shoulders, and his arms were thick. He grunted under the force of the Mitchell¡¯s attack and swore as he was driven back a few steps.

    Mitchell knew he had only moments before the big orc was at his back. He needed to put this man down fast. He could already tell the armor his opponent wore would deflect arcane missiles so he opted for a firebolt instead. As they broke apart, Mitchell fired a quick blast towards the man¡¯s face, which he ducked while bringing his sword around to swing at Mitchell¡¯s midsection, forcing him back a step. Yeah, this guy definitely knew what he was doing.

    Mitchell met the strike, parrying it with ease and riposted back, aiming for the man¡¯s neck. It was his turn to dance back now as he barely avoided the strike.

    Just then, Mitchell heard the orc behind him and, on instinct, he cast blade burst and, as the swarming blades erupted into existence, he was rewarded with a scream of pain from behind him. Not bothering to turn and look at the damage he just caused he advanced on Henerton who was starting to panic as he tried to stay clear of the wall of death scything towards him.

    ¡°Balls and taint!¡± the man screamed, diving to stay clear. ¡°Dennik was supposed to deal with magic users!¡±

    ¡°Dennik¡¯s dead,¡± Mitchell snarled. ¡°Like I said, you fucked up.¡±

    Mitchell was already charging as the spell dropped and, this time, he caught the man unprepared as he had not recovered from throwing himself out of the radius of the spectral blades. His sword came down in a powerful two-handed swing, right at the spot where Henerton¡¯s shoulder met his neck.

    Mitchell had swung so hard he nearly cleaved the man in two. Blood and gore erupted from the body as his insides were ripped asunder. Mitchell blocked that part out, knowing he would deal with it later, and turned to face the commander.

    The orc was picking himself up where from where he¡¯d stumbled back from the blade burst and his whole left side was a web of cuts. His armor had blunted the worst of it, but several had gotten through and he was bleeding freely from dozens of slashes. The big man was breathing heavily and it sounded to Mitchell like a snorting bull.

    The orc looked down at his ripped leather and fabric gear and ripped it completely off.

    Then something happened which Mitchell was not prepared for.

    The orc sucked in a mighty breath and he roared. But this wasn¡¯t just a battle cry. The orc¡¯s skin actually glowed momentarily, his own personal St. Elmo¡¯s Fire. As the sound washed over him Mitchell¡¯s legs went weak and his fingers nearly lost their grip on his sword.

    The orc seemed to grow in height as Mitchell watched, swelling until he looked eight or nine feet tall. Mitchell had to run! This thing would rip him apart. He¨C

    Mitchell felt a pressure in his mind and suddenly the orc shrunk back down to his normal size. Which was still roughly seven feet, but not the hulk he had been before. It was like the larger vision simply melted away and Mitchell blinked. Then he felt control returning to his limbs as the feeling that he had to run vanished.

    ¡°That big fucker tried to use a spell or something on me,¡± Mitchell thought to himself. ¡°Some kind of mental effect.¡±

    Then is mind flashed back to Luvari telling him that he couldn¡¯t be charmed and wondered if this was some kind of similar effect that the stone shielded his mind from since he hadn¡¯t actively resisted it. Either way, he shook the spell off and, not wanting to waste any more time, charged the big fucker.

    He lept forward, closing the couple of meters in a flash and came in with his sword low. The orc was ready though. His reflexes were shockingly good for someone so large. With a roar he brought his blade up and stopped Mitchell¡¯s cold and then lifted up a leg and kicked Mitchell in the chest, sending him flying back into a tree.

    Mitchell¡¯s world went white for a moment as he struck the unforgiving wood and rolled to the ground. He blinked to clear his vision, pushed the ache in his chest and back to the side, and forced himself up. The orc was coming, his heavy footfalls like drum beats in Mitchell¡¯s mind.

    Mitchell was on his feet just in time to see the large sword swinging for his head and he half dove, half fell and tried to turn it into a roll as the thick blade sent a chunk of wood spinning into the night.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± he yelped at the sheer power of the strike. He was definitely swinging for the fences.

    The ground was soft and uneven, and Mitchell kept getting tripped up by roots as he backed away, and the orc just kept coming. Mitchell rolled again, dodging another powerful swing. The commander¡¯s green-black eyes were wild with his battle lust, and they tracked Mitchell¡¯s every move with laser-like precision.

    Finally, Mitchell was in a relatively level patch of ground, and he was able to stand up and meet the orc¡¯s advance. There was no time to fire off anything, as the creature¡¯s sword was moving even before he¡¯d closed the distance. Mitchell brought his up to meet it, and they clanged together loud enough to make his ears ring. But, to his surprise, he found he was able to match the big man¡¯s power. The orc flexed and bore down, but Mitchell had his balance now, both feet firmly planted, and he grunted and pushed back.

    From either side of their crossed blades, they glared at each other. The orc¡¯s tusks gleamed wet in the faint light of Ithstasy just filtering through the trees and the orc¡¯s body glistened with the blood from the cuts he¡¯d taken early on. And the smell!

    Mitchell growled and pulled up a reserve of strength from somewhere and shoved, actually pushing the orc back a step. Once he had a little bit of space Mitchell brought his blade around and went for thing¡¯s throat, though the orc blocked it easily. But Mitchell wasn¡¯t really trying to hit the neck, he was trying to create an opening. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    As the orc moved to deflect the blade, he had been expecting Mitchell to resist it as they had before. But instead, Mitchell let go of the sword with his left hand just before the orc struck and let it go limp in his right. It forced the enemy commander to overcommit and, when he met almost no resistance, the momentum pulled him off balance and left his side exposed. Mitchell made a fist and punched as hard has he could into the exposed left side of the orc. It was like punching the side of a slab of beef ribs and there was a meaty thwack but Mitchell also heard the crack of bone as the slab of beef gave several inches.

    ¡°Fuck yeah,¡± Mitchell thought in triumph. ¡°I¡¯ve got superhero strength now, asshole!¡±

    The orc howled in pain and back handed Mitchell across the face, which sent him flying back on his ass, dazed.

    ¡°And that¡¯s what I get for gloating,¡± he thought as he struggled to sit up, the whole side of his face feeling like he¡¯d been hit with a meat tenderizer. Thankfully, the orc wasn¡¯t moving much better.

    As Mitchell staggered to his feet, ears ringing, and feeling his own blood running down his neck, he saw the orc listing to one side, favoring his unbroken ribs. He still held his sword in his other hand, and he wasn¡¯t out of the fight, but Mitchell had definitely taken the spring from his step. They glared at each other across the open space.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to kill you and eat your fucking heart,¡± the orc snarled, his voice like gravel rolling around in a bucket. He let out a ragged cough then and Mitchell could see the blood flying from his mouth. Definitely some broken ribs.

    ¡°Then,¡± he wheezed, ¡°I¡¯m going to rape that little whore back there and cut her throat.¡±

    From the trees above the orc¡¯s head, Mitchell saw a flash of emerald green. Vras was there, his grisly work with the other two long since concluded. He was staring at Mitchell expectantly. Mitchell met his gaze briefly, and gave a subtle shake of his head. Mitchell would finish this on his own. He knew he could match the big thing¡¯s strength now, and, despite the throbbing in Mitchell¡¯s head, the steady drip of blood from where he¡¯d taken a backhand across the face, and the ache in his ribs and back, he knew the orc was worse off than he was with at least two broken ribs. No, Mitchell decided. The big fucker was his.

    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± Mitchell asked him. Despite breathing heavily, his voice, while raspy, was flat and even.

    ¡°Brogak Oglan.¡±

    Mitchell nodded.

    ¡°After I send your soul to Denass, I¡¯ll say a prayer for you. And if I ever meet your dock whore of a mother, I¡¯ll be sure to tell her what a punk bitch she had for a son.¡±

    Mitchell used his best approximation for punk bitch in Common that he could think of and had no idea if it held the same weight, but it was enough.

    Brogak roared and started to rush forward, albeit much slower than he had before, and Mitchell saw more blood coming from his mouth as the broken bones shredded his lungs.

    Mitchell had the orc¡¯s number now, though. No more surprise attacks, no more tripping over roots and trying to keep his footing. He was a motherfucking arcanist who had been trained by not one, but two Onyx knights.

    ¡°Fuck this guy, dude,¡± Mitchell thought to himself.

    He did something he¡¯d never done before. Mitchell had been told that he didn¡¯t need to point his hand to aim his directional spells but it was something that he¡¯d always done. Indeed, according to Revos and Allora, it was what most magic users did. There just seemed to be something psychological about it. Whenever he cast arcane missile or fire bolt, he threw his sevith hand out. But he didn¡¯t need to. He could direct it out of his forehead or his elbow if he wanted to, but that always seemed kind of stupid. Mitchell wanted to get off his shots with both hands on his sword, however, so he decided now was as good a time as any.

    Functionally, there was no difference as far as the spell was concerned. He just moved the mana to a different part of his body to before he visualized pushing it through the rune. The spell would form itself regardless. So rather than direct the mana to flow out of his hand, he directed it to that third eye spot right on his forehead, and launched an arcane bolt, looking straight at Brogak¡¯s face as he did so.

    Brogak was no green recruit, though. Even wounded and bleeding from dozens of small cuts, he was an experienced soldier. Perhaps he expected something like that, but he ducked to the side, his steps not wavering as his sword started to rise. Only one of the missiles struck, but it had the effect of blasting his left ear clean off his head. He howled again as he got within striking distance and their blades clashed again, each of them executing a series of slashes that the other defended against. Even wounded the big fucker was strong and fast. But he was slowing, his breath a wheezing gurgle as the broken ribs took a heavy toll. How he was able to keep moving through the pain, Mitchell couldn¡¯t even fathom.

    Mitchell¡¯s blade was faster and on a quick riposte it found its mark in Brogak¡¯s right thigh. The orc screamed as Mitchell slid in further and twisted before yanking it free with a spray of blood that splatted on the ground. Brogak went down, his leg no longer functioning. Even still, he was only down a knee, but he was bleeding out fast.

    ¡°God damn, you fuckers are strong,¡± Mitchell cursed in English, his chest heaving.

    Then Brogak tried to stand once more. Mitchell was so stunned he almost didn¡¯t react as he saw the orc growling once more and lunged for him, sword arm weak, but still moving. He jerked back in surprise, knocked the blade aside easily and followed it up immediately with a thrust into the orc¡¯s throat, punching out the other side, severing the spine.

    A wet gurgle of air escaped from the wound, his body twitched, and finally slide to the ground and didn¡¯t rise again.

    ¡°What the fuck do they feed the orcs around here?¡± Mitchell swore as he sagged in relief.

    Just then Mitchell felt a nudge against his hip and jerked to see Vras standing there, his coat glistening with gore.

    ¡°Good job,¡± he told the shadow cat, and scratched between his ears. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go check on Leth.¡±

    Mitchell limped his way over to Lethelin.  Vras went down on his stomach and watched expectantly. Mitchell chose to ignore the blood and gore covering his maw. Her face was unnaturally pale and she had barely moved in the few minutes since she¡¯d been shot. Her breathing was labored as she fought through the pain but she was conscious, which Mitchell took as a good sign.

    ¡°Still with me?¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s nice here,¡± she said, her voice strained. ¡°And I figured I could wait until you were done. Maybe take a nap.¡±

    He grinned at her as he reached to sit her up and she gave him a weak smile. Then she saw his face.

    ¡°I¡¯m not an expert or anything, but I don¡¯t think you¡¯re supposed to stop punches with your face,¡± she said, her sarcasm still intact.

    ¡°You should see the other guy,¡± he grinned through the pain. ¡°Let¡¯s get you up. Because, I¡¯m not an expert or anything, but I don¡¯t think you¡¯re supposed to catch arrows with your body.¡±

    Lethelin winced.

    ¡°Yeah, I walked into that one, didn¡¯t I?¡±

    ¡°Yes, you did. Now, are you ready? This is probably going to hurt.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, just do it.¡±

    Mitchell slipped a hand under the shoulder that was pierced by the arrow, slipping it into the soft ground beneath her, and she sucked in a breath but didn¡¯t cry out. Once he had a firm grip, he put his other hand behind her head and cradled her neck.

    ¡°Good?¡±

    ¡°Mmhmm,¡± she grunted through clenched lips.

    ¡°On three.¡±

    ¡°Three what?¡±

    Mitchell blinked. Did they not do that here?

    ¡°I will count to three and then lift. So you can get ready.

    ¡°Does that make it better?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, it¡¯s just something we do right before something painful.¡±

    ¡°Okay, then.¡±

    ¡°One¡­ Two¡­¡± Mitchell lifted.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s fucking balls!¡± she screamed as he lifted her into a sitting position. After a few deep breaths and a moment where it looked like she might pass out, she glared at him with pain-filled eyes. ¡°You said three! You went on two, you fish-brained jivi fucker! Balls and fucking taint!¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said sheepishly. ¡°That¡¯s kind of what we do, also. The idea is that you will tense up on three and it will hurt more.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see how!¡± she snapped. ¡°If I could reach Mira, I¡¯d stab you and see how you like it! I¡¯ll count to three first though, so don¡¯t fucking worry!¡±

    ¡°Okay, my bad,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. But you¡¯re up and I¡¯m going to try and get this thing out of you.¡±

    ¡°Do you know how?¡±

    ¡°Not exactly, but I¡¯ve got a pretty good idea. The good news is the arrow passed all the way through so I don¡¯t have to push it through myself. I know enough to know that trying to pull an arrow out the other way is a very bad idea. But I¡¯m going to snap the shaft and pull it out from your back and that¡¯s not going to be pleasant. After that, I¡¯ll use the healing spell and try to repair as much of the damage as I can. I can give the second-circle spell a try, it¡¯s more powerful. I don¡¯t think it hit anything vital. I¡¯ll use the minor healing to stop the bleeding straight away, then work on the second-circle spell to repair the internal damage. Okay?¡±

    Lethelin stared at nothing as she absorbed his words, fat beads of sweat dripping down her forehead.

    ¡°Leth, you with me?¡±

    She blinked and eyes cloudy with pain focused on his.

    ¡°Okay. But no more bloody counting. Just tell me when you¡¯re going to do it.¡±

    Mitchell nodded.

    He positioned himself off to the side and gripped the shaft of the arrow as close to her shoulder as he could with his right hand to steady it. It had barely jostled the projectile but even that prompted her to groan. Then, he bought his left hand up and gripped next to the first, leaving about two inches of the pale wood exposed.

    ¡°Are you ready?¡±

    She was panting through her nose, her lips locked tight and tears had started leaking from her eyes but they stayed locked straight ahead. She gave him the briefest of nods.

    As firmly as he could manage and trying to minimize any flexion on his right hand, he snapped the back of the arrow off. He snapped it easily, but there were still a few slivers of wood that he would need to deal with.

    To her credit, Lethelin didn¡¯t scream, but the moan through her clamped lips was evidence enough. Sweat was pouring off her now, dripping down her nose, and her chin and her shirt was soaked through. He reached for her other dagger and, through her groans, shaved away the bits of wood that were most likely to drag through her skin as it was passed through her.

    ¡°How you doing, Leth? Talk to me.¡±

    Her eyes fluttered and he felt her start to sway but she managed to flick her eyes up and meet his.

    ¡°Just finish it,¡± she panted.

    Mitchell nodded once and moved around behind her. There was more blood here. Comparatively, the entry wound had bled less, but the exit wound was bigger, with more tissue damage. Mitchell supposed he should be grateful that there wasn¡¯t something like hollow-point arrowheads that expanded on impact here.

    As Mitchell stared at the few inches of the arrow that protruded from her shoulder, he tried to decide if he should pull it quickly or pull it out slowly. He settled for somewhere in between and, if things started to go bad, he would yank it out.

    ¡°Here we go.¡±

    Lethelin¡¯s breathing quickened and he began to slide the shaft out. It was strange how smoothly it started to move. It must not have felt smooth to her, though. She gasped and then sobbed as Mitchell extracted the blood-stained shaft.

    ¡°Mitchell!¡± she moaned as she started to shake.

    ¡°Almost done, baby. Almost done.¡±

    He hated how much it was hurting her but he also knew there was nothing he could do about that. He watched as the end of the shaft disappeared into her shoulder and saw blood well up in the wound, his eyes more than good enough to perceive it even in the darkness.

    Just a little more, and¡­

    The arrow came free and Lethelin sagged against him, her sobs coming freely now.

    Mitchell immediately cast his first-circle healing spell and was pleased to see the bleeding begin to slow and finally stop. The skin started to heal over and she uttered a sound of relief rather than of agony. Then, worrying that the simple spell would not be strong enough for anything more than superficial wounds, he fished out his book and spent a few minutes reviewing the form for the second-circle spell.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t so hard. It¡¯s just a few additional channel lines around the inner lattice of the rune. They only loop once. The basic spell is the same, I just need the extra channel lines to handle the additional mana.¡±

    ¡°Only once?¡± Lethelin mumbled, her strength nearly exhausted. ¡°That¡¯s good.¡±

    Mitchell cast the spell a couple of times to try and firm up his grasp of it, and it only lost cohesion the first time. The resulting feedback was uncomfortable, but nothing serious. Once he had it, he cast it on Leth¡¯s wound and found that he could get a sense for how much the spell was repairing by how quickly the mana flowed into her body. After just a minute or so of the higher-level spell, he felt a strange sensation on the outflow of magic. It was almost like her body was pushing back against the influx. Mitchell dropped the spell and saw that Lethelin had already fallen asleep against him.

    He laid her down gently and grabbed a blanket to cover her.

    Vras moved then, the first time since the whole ordeal started, and rested his head on the previously wounded shoulder and sighed heavily.

    ¡°Maula will be okay,¡± he told the cat. ¡°But I need you to watch her. There¡¯s something else I must do. Keep her safe until I get back.¡±

    The cat flicked his ears and settled in.

    Knowing that she was as safe as she was likely to be at the moment, he grabbed his sword, re-sheathed it, and stepped into the night.

 Chapter 70

    Even in the dark, Mitchell had no trouble picking his way along the uneven ground clogged thick with roots and fallen branches. Following his nose, he backtracked the path they had come and which their attackers had traversed as well. It didn¡¯t take long for him to find what he was looking for.

    He spotted Kole before Kole spotted him. The disgraced city guardsman was bound up tight and secured to a tree next to a number of rucksacks and bedrolls. Moving quietly, Mitchell made one circle around the area to make sure there were no surprises or that the squad hadn¡¯t left someone behind to guard their prisoner before he stepped into the patch of pale moonlight in front of the man.

    Kole jerked against his bonds at the sudden appearance of another person and then his eyes went wide with abject terror when he saw that it was Mitchell¡¯s bloody and battered face and not one of the mercenaries.

    ¡°Denass, mother of night and darkness, protect me,¡± he whimpered.

    ¡°What did you do, Kole?¡± Mitchell asked him quietly, his voice like cold iron.

    ¡°They caught me! Caught me trying to lift some coin in a market! They was gonna hang me. I had to tell them something! Please! They was gonna hang me as a thief and a bandit!¡±

    ¡°You are a thief and a bandit.¡±

    ¡°You lot sent me off with nothin¡¯!¡± Kole cried. ¡°I needed food! I needed supplies! What was I supposed to do?¡±

    ¡°And so you told them about Allora. Tried to bargain yourself out of your punishment,¡± Mitchell said as he put the pieces together. ¡°How did you know?¡±

    The sniveling retch of a man half cried half cackled.

    ¡°Weren¡¯t hard to figure out. They¡¯ve been searching for her for well on two years now. Beautiful, black-haired elf with violet eyes, carries herself like a queen. Once I sobered up, I knew who she was. Knew they¡¯d want the reward for bringing her in or killing her and they might let me go. But they made me go with them. I had to go all the way back to where you lot found me and we picked up your trail. Lost you a few days ago not too far from here and we headed back to Clayfaire to regroup when I spotted you and the red-haired one leaving the town this morning.¡±

    Mitchell nodded.

    ¡°You spoke an oath under the sun to never steal again. And after I spared your life.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well, that oath didn¡¯t put food in my belly, did it!

    Mitchell looked at him for a long time. So long that the man began to squirm under the intensity of Mitchell¡¯s cold gaze.

    ¡°Do you know why I spared your life that morning, Kole?¡± Mitchell asked. ¡°It was because I didn¡¯t want my first official act to be an execution. Killing your partners in combat was unavoidable, but executing someone is different. So, I chose the path of mercy. And in doing so, it nearly cost me my life and the life of someone I love dearly.¡±

    ¡°So, what? Are you going to kill me now?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Mitchell said, quietly as he raised his sword. ¡°You are already dead.¡±

    He thought of Allora¡¯s words on the foot of the mountains outside of Belikir.

    ¡°You were dead the moment you stepped foot on the path of breaking your oath to Stollar. I¡¯m just the instrument of your justice.¡±

    ¡°I¨C¡± Kole began, his eyes starting to widen but his words were cut off as Mitchell thrust his blade into the man¡¯s heart with enough force to go clean through his body and into the tree on the other side.

    Kole¡¯s body seized and he stared at Mitchell with incomprehension clear on his dirty face. Mitchell did not blink, did not look away. He watched as the life drained from the thief¡¯s eyes as surely as the blood drained from his ruptured heart. Only when the final breath left Kole¡¯s lungs did Mitchell retract his blade. His body hung limply from his bonds.

    ¡°Denass, mother of death and darkness, receive this soul and judge him as you will,¡± Mitchell intoned, trying to recall the prayer he¡¯d heard before. He wasn¡¯t sure if he got it right, but it was close enough.

    Then, he turned and headed back to Lethelin.

    ***

    ¡°You did a fair job, I¡¯d say. Your first time with the second-circle spell?¡± Gilriel asked as she inspected the arrow wound.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Mitchell told her. ¡°It wasn¡¯t much more difficult than the firstcircle spell. I got it on the first try. Why are there still scars, though?¡±

    Mitchell had hoped that the skin would heal smooth and as good as new, but the next morning when they¡¯d awoken and he¡¯d checked on it, he could see the pink and puckered skin of a fresh scar on the entry wound and more disfigured flesh on the back. Lethelin had said it was still a little tender to the touch, as well.

    ¡°More serious wounds will leave scars behind if you don¡¯t use a high enough spell,¡± she explained. ¡°It¡¯s also why she¡¯s likely to be sore for a few days yet.

    I just heal her again?¡±

    ¡°Eh, you could,¡± Gilriel explained, her old instructor voice back on display. ¡°But it wouldn¡¯t help much. The tissue has been repaired, but because you only used a second level, there wasn¡¯t enough mana to set it back one-hundred percent. There¡¯s nothing to really heal anymore, it¡¯s not a problem of damage, it just needs time.¡±

    ¡°If you all are finished talking about me like I¡¯m a thing, I¡¯d like to put my shirt back on,¡± Lethelin said a little testily.

    ¡°Go on girl,¡± Gilriel chuckled. ¡°Was that your first time getting shot?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Lethelin said as she slipped the shirt back over her head, wincing as she had to flex her arm and shoulder, and started to lace up the collar. ¡°I¡¯ve shot people plenty, but it was my first time taking an arrow. I don¡¯t like it.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not pleasant, I agree,¡± replied Gilriel. ¡°But you did alright. The arrow missed anything vital and Mitchell¡¯s healing took care of the rest. Go on and rest up until dinner.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Lady Gilriel,¡± Lethelin said as she made her way into the house leaving Mitchell, Allora, and Gilriel alone in the yard.

    ¡°It was Kole,¡± Mitchell explained. ¡°He identified you and tried to use the information to avoid execution.¡±

    Mitchell then proceeded to tell them all that had happened now that Lethelin was given the all-clear. That had been his first priority, even though she insisted that she was fine beyond some stiffness and soreness. When he got to the part about backtracking and finding the former guardsman tied to a tree, Allora reached for his hand and held it as he told of the conversation and the execution. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    ¡°Do you regret sparing his life that first time?¡± Allora asked him gently.

    Mitchell inhaled through his nose and let it out in a huff.

    ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°I still think that was the right thing to do. But¡­¡±

    He struggled with how to explain his feelings about it now.

    ¡°In my own world, I was against what we call the death penalty. Executions for crimes. Our system of justice, while better than many, also has some big flaws in it. Many innocent people have been executed over the years. I never supported it. I also didn¡¯t think it was right for a state to punish people for murder by killing people in turn. But I executed Kole and I¡¯m not even sure I was wrong to do it.¡±

    ¡°You had no doubt about his guilt,¡± Allora said. ¡°He admitted his crimes to you.¡±

    Mitchell nodded.

    ¡°I know. But¡­ we say in my country that justice is supposed to be blind. It doesn¡¯t matter who you are, you will be treated fairly and judgment will also be made without regard to one¡¯s race, gender, or position in society.¡±

    Gilriel chuckled.

    ¡°I suspect that doesn¡¯t work as well in practice.¡±

    Mitchell wobbled his head, which still felt strange to him.

    ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t. But that¡¯s the ideal. I believe in that ideal. I am against the death penalty. But when I was standing in front of him all I could think about was that Lethelin had nearly been killed because of him. If it had not been for Vras, I would likely have been killed as well. I couldn¡¯t have taken four of them on my own. Not yet. So, I don¡¯t know if I killed him for justice or for revenge.¡±

    Allora and Gilriel were quiet, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

    ¡°We have a saying where I¡¯m from,¡± he said at last. ¡°Heavy is the head that wears the crown.¡±

    ¡°Hmm,¡± Gilriel said. ¡°I like that. And it¡¯s true enough.¡±

    ¡°You will have many such decisions to make in the future,¡± Allora told him. ¡°But I have faith that you will make the correct ones. You are a good man, Mitchell Allen.¡±

    He smiled at her.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I could ask for higher praise,¡± he said and brought her in for a kiss.

    ***

    They rested in the grove for another four days. Mitchell worked on his sword play and spells and practiced his reading skills which were still far behind his speaking skills. The evenings were spent around the fire pit or in the cabin when it rained. They talked, shared stories, and enjoyed what Mitchell knew to be the last bit of quiet before the storm. Beyond the borders of Gilriel¡¯s warded enclave, his enemies were waiting.

    The night before they were set to depart, Mitchell found Gilriel in her garden. The rain had stopped some hours before and the ground was still damp, but she was still there tending to her plants. The air was so clean and pure in this place that he felt like he¡¯d never really breathed before he stepped into the forest. She heard his quiet footfalls and looked up to see him stopping at her fence.

    ¡°Night blooms berries,¡± she told him as he watched her pruning a long, willowy plant with pinkish-red petals. ¡°They only bloom in the dark and I have to trim away the dead petals to get the best berries. They¡¯re handy in potion making.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like to learn some of that one day. When I¡¯m not trying to save a kingdom and all that.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s useful. I took it up when I moved out here. My potions fetch a fair bit of coin when I head to one of the villages to sell them.¡±

    ¡°Can I ask why you left Lorivin? Allora told me that knights almost never leave the service but you did. Right around the time Baylor became monarch.¡±

    Gilriel stood up slowly from her pruning and fixed him with a level stare.

    ¡°I would imagine,¡± she said, her voice carrying a subtle note of warning, ¡°that she also would have told you that I didn¡¯t give her the reason when she asked me either.¡±

    ¡°She did. But I wanted to ask you why myself.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you the same thing I told her. It was a long time ago and it has nothing to do with anything now.¡±

    Mitchell nodded. Truth be told, he had not expected her to give him an answer but he thought it worth trying.

    ¡°If I wouldn¡¯t give the answer to Allora, whom I¡¯ve come to love like my own daughter, what made you think I would tell you?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think you would, honestly. But I had to ask anyway.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± she peered at him.

    ¡°Because I want you to come back with us.¡±

    ¡°Ha! Stollar¡¯s cock, boy. I vowed I would never set foot in Lorivin again and in eighty-four years, I never have. I¡¯ll not go back for you nor anyone.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not asking you to go back for me or for Allora.¡±

    ¡°Then you¡¯ve got no coin left to barter with because Allora¡¯s the last person in the world I care about and not even for her would I do it.¡±

    She began to step carefully around her plants towards the gate.

    ¡°I¡¯m asking you to come back for Awen. To do your duty.¡±

    That brought Gilriel up short.  She turned around and Mitchell could see the anger building up beneath the surface.

    ¡°What did you say to me?¡± she asked. Her voice was low and hard and promised violence.

    ¡°I think you heard me.¡±

    Mitchell knew he needed to tread carefully here. He needed to push her but if he pushed her too hard, he didn¡¯t know what she might do. One thing Mitchell was sure of, though was that they needed her and she had been in hiding for long enough.

    ¡°You swore an oath to protect the monarch and to protect Awen. You¡ª¡±

    Before Mitchell could finish his sentence Gilriel¡¯s krisa flashed and Mitchell felt his body bound up in invisible bands of force and then he was lifted up off the ground and shoved back into the wall of the house. He struck the vine-covered stone hard enough that he saw stars for a moment. As his vision cleared, he was met with the sight of Gilriel stalking through her garden now, heedless of the carefully tended greenery. She smashed right through her fence. She stopped only inches from his face, her face a cauldron of anger and eyes like glacier ice.

    ¡°Do not ever speak to me of oaths, you festering pile of troll shit! You think that heart stone gives you the right to speak to me of oaths and duty? It does not. I was serving Awen before your grandmother first got on her knees and sucked your grandfather¡¯s shriveled cock! I was born into the Knights and was fighting and killing for the crown before my eighteenth high sun. You do not get to tell me of my duty, you nameless whoreson! You are not the monarch yet and even if you were, I would sooner take council from a toothless cloud addict than an off-worlder who picks up a sword and thinks himself a king who can speak to me of my oath. Do I make myself clear?¡±

    Her eyes burned holes into the back of Mitchell¡¯s skull and he could feel the bands of force squeezing him tight enough that drawing a breath was becoming difficult. Mitchell had no doubt that this woman could end him. He¡¯d come a long way since he first arrived but he was not so stupid as to think he could really defend himself if Gilriel actually decided to hurt or kill him. She¡¯d probably forgotten more about how to kill someone with a blade, magic, or her bare hands than Mitchell had even learned yet. But he couldn¡¯t let that stop him.

    ¡°Awen,¡± Mitchell grunted, fighting to talk as his chest was constricted, ¡°Will die¡ª¡± he sucked in a small breath. ¡°If. We. Fail,¡± he coughed and dragged in as much air as he could. ¡°And you. Will be partially. To blame.¡±

    Mitchell¡¯s lungs were burning and he could feel his head growing hot as he fought to draw breath.

    That seemed to resonate with Gilriel as, for the first time, he saw doubt flicker through her eyes. The bands of force constricting him began to ease and he sucked down several deep breaths. Mitchell tried to exploit the gap in her certainty.

    ¡°I think you could tell yourself that there were other knights,¡± he said, still feeling winded. ¡°Before the coup. You could hide here and it wasn¡¯t really a big deal because the other knights were protecting Awen and Baylor. But that¡¯s all gone now. Allora is all that¡¯s left.¡±

    Gilriel was starring at him now, fear beginning to replace the rage.

    ¡°Allora and you. Maybe you told yourself that you were just on vacation and one day you would go back. That you weren¡¯t really abandoning all that you swore your life to. That you weren¡¯t abandoning your oaths. Maybe that helped you make it alright in your head. But it¡¯s not alright anymore.¡±

    At once, the glow of her krisa winked out and the spell holding him vanished. Mitchell dropped the few inches to the ground and braced himself against the wall to regain his balance.

    She stepped away from him and turned her eyes towards the forest. Then he saw her head track upward to where Ithstasy was about a third of the way across the sky, peeking through the scattered clouds left over from this afternoon¡¯s rain.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know much,¡± Mitchell said softly as he walked up beside her. ¡°I barely know what¡¯s going on half the time. And the other half I¡¯m just making up as I go along. But I know what Allora has sacrificed to keep her oath and in the name of her duty to Awen. I know what she has suffered. In the face of all that, in the face of an entire army hunting for her, of watching her friends and family get slaughtered, of traveling to an alien world alone, with nothing more than a hope and a prayer to keep her going, she kept her oath. If you can tell me that you have suffered more, have sacrificed more, than that woman sleeping on the other side of this wall, then I will never speak of this again.¡±

    In the forest beyond the clearing, the sounds of the night filled the air. The wind kicked up and blew strands of the elf¡¯s hair free. She was old enough to be his great grandmother but she was an elf and she looked like a woman coming into the kind of beauty that only maturity can bring about. The moonlight played across her skin and Mitchell could see lines of moisture trailing down her cheeks that glinted in Ithstasy¡¯s glow.

    ¡°But if you can¡¯t say that,¡± Mitchell continued. ¡°Then I ask you to remember your oath and to return to Lorivin and help us save Awen. She needs you.¡±

    Mitchell lifted his hand up and rested it on her shoulder. She jumped at the sudden contact but she didn¡¯t look away from the sky, nor did she speak.

    ¡°Goodnight, Lady Gilriel.¡±

 Chapter 71

    ¡°Going overland, avoiding roads and towns as much as we can, I expect it to take us about two ten-days to get to Lorivin,¡± Allora repeated as they made final checks in the pre-dawn light. She looked longingly at the pack that held her armor and Mitchell knew how much she wished to wear it again, but that would be painting a target on their backs. She¡¯d also freshly wrapped the pommel of her sword, hiding the gemstone from view.

    As for Mitchell, Allora and Gilriel had made some small adjustments that made his new armor more comfortable and, after the last few days practicing in it, he was finally starting to get a feel for the extra weight and how it played with his reaction times. As a result, he was feeling much more confident. By reflex, he slipped his fingers over the cekip, feeling the full complement of six additional stones for each of his mana types, plus the ones in his sevith. His sword was also freshly sharpened and free in his scabbard.

    Lethlin sat cross-legged on the picnic table, her bow across her knees and her pack slung over her back, waiting. She¡¯d required a lot less packing and also didn¡¯t seem as particular about what she was or wasn¡¯t carrying as Allora or Mitchell.

    ¡°How likely is it that we start hitting patrols?¡± Mitchell asked.

    Allora¡¯s brow creased.

    ¡°It is hard to know for sure. Milandris¡¯s mercenary forces are less organized or thorough than rangers, the crown guard, or the watch were, but they also know I am back in the country and will be on high alert. Plus, we can expect them to be actively scrying for my location. It will not take them long to figure out exactly where I am headed.¡±

    ¡°Not that they wouldn¡¯t know anyway,¡± Lethelin said through a mouthful of dried fruit.

    ¡°True,¡± Allora grimaced. ¡°If we are forced to detour it could add several days to the journey.¡±

    ¡°What if we just got jivis and rode like hell for the city?¡± Mitchell asked, suddenly having an idea.

    ¡°Rode like¡­ what?¡± Allora asked, her face puzzled.

    ¡°The nine hells?¡± Lethelin asked, also confused.

    Mitchell made a mental note. There were some things that didn¡¯t translate at all, even when he used the right words.

    ¡°If we rode as fast as we could, stopping only long enough to rest horses and eat, and made all possible haste to the city, could we get there ahead of whatever forces they might send to follow you?¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡± Lethelin said in sudden understanding. ¡°You mean what if we humped the fire drake!¡±

    Allora snickered.

    ¡°We say lightning drakes in Lorivin,¡± the knight said.

    Mitchell arched an eyebrow at the visuals but he thought he got it. He hadn¡¯t actually seen a drake yet, but from what he understood, they were sort of like lesser dragons. Quasi-intelligent, voraciously hungry, and often had elemental attacks of some sort that were related to their breed, similar to their larger cousins.

    ¡°Sure,¡± he said with a laugh, ¡°if we humped a drake.¡±

    Allora paused to consider and Lethelin looked contemplative as well.

    ¡°It might work,¡± Allora said. ¡°I had not considered it because, well, we do not have jivis.¡±

    ¡°Are they hard to get?¡± Mitchell asked.

    ¡°Not if you have the coin,¡± Lethelin said.

    ¡°Which we are in somewhat short supply of,¡± Allora added.

    ¡°I mean¡­ I could get us jivis in any town we stop at,¡± Lethlin said. ¡°Even Clayfaire. They have a stable with several.¡±

    ¡°You mean steal them,¡± Allora said, her voice flat.

    ¡°Steal, borrow with the intention of returning one day, take your pick.¡±

    Allora expelled a breath through her nose and gave Lethelin a hard look.

    ¡°The people in that town don¡¯t deserve to have their livelihood suffer just so we can make better time.¡±

    ¡°I think if the people in that town knew what we were about they would be offering up those jivis in gratitude. It¡¯s not our fault that we can¡¯t tell them.¡±

    ¡°It would still be theft,¡± Allora said, her voice getting testy.

    ¡°If we¡¯re being technical, everything belongs to Mitchell, anyway. He¡¯s the monarch,¡± Lethelin countered. ¡°He¡¯s just claiming what¡¯s rightfully his.¡±

    ¡°That is¨C¡±

    ¡°How much time would we save?¡± Mitchell interjected, hoping not to start the day off with one of their moral arguments. ¡°If we had the jivis?¡±

    Allora looked at him almost like she¡¯d forgotten he was there, which was so often the case when her and Lethelin started in on each other.

    ¡°Well¡­ if we could do as you say, taking minimal rest each night, while still staying off the roads, I think we could be at the outskirts of Lorivin in five days. Maybe six.¡±

    Both Mitchell¡¯s eyebrows went up. Twenty days down to five or six.

    ¡°I think we have to take the jivis,¡± he told her. ¡°We can be there well before they have a time to organize any effective search.¡±

    ¡°It is still stealing from good people, Mitchell,¡± Allora said, unhappiness plain in her tone.

    ¡°It is, but we¡¯ll leave as much coin as we can spare with a note that either they will be returned or the value will be paid back as soon as we can. Assuming we live, that is.¡±

    ¡°Here, this should cover it,¡± Gilriel spoke up from behind them as she set a small purse down on the table next to Lethelin.

    The trio turned and saw the middle-aged elf standing there in full traveling gear with a pack of her own, as well as a sword wrapped similarly to Allora¡¯s. Mitchell smiled broadly at the sight.

    Allora was more interested in her attire than in her offered coin.

    ¡°Gilriel, where are you going?

    ¡°I¡­¡± Gilriel started, then looked at Mitchell a moment, and pressed on. ¡°I am going back to Lorivin.¡±

    ¡°That is¡­ that is wonderful!¡± Allora exclaimed. ¡°And there is enough there for four jivis?¡±

    ¡°No, just three,¡± she said. ¡°I won¡¯t be traveling with you. I have some contacts. Other knights who are¡­ Let¡¯s say who are on sabbatical like I was. They have long been out of the public eye and the world has forgotten about them, just as it forgot about me. I will attempt to recruit them to the cause.¡±

    Allora suddenly looked worried.

    ¡°But your vow? You said you would never return.¡±

    Gilriel shifted the weight on her back and looked uncomfortable.

    ¡°I realized last night that while I might have left the order behind, I never forsook my oath to Awen. She needs us. How could I do less than you, child?¡± Her eyes flicked to Mitchell, and he saw pain there, but also ¨C oddly enough ¨C gratitude. ¡°You have never wavered in your duty or your commitment, despite everything the world has thrown at you. I should have realized that a lot sooner, and I am deeply sorry. My own petty anger kept me from seeing how foolish I was being.¡±

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    Then Gilriel did something that stunned the lot of them, but Allora most of all. She pulled her sword and held it tip down, letting it come to rest in the soft earth, both hands on the pommel. Then she lowered herself to one knee and bowed her head. Mitchell and Lethelin merely stared at the display, but Allora gasped, took a step back, and her hand came to her mouth.

    ¡°I, Gilriel Ne Sarandar, pledge myself to your service, Allora De Annen, Lord Captain of the Onyx Knights, and the service of the monarch, Mitchell Theodore Allen, in the protection of Awen and her lands. Under Stollar¡¯s holy light, in the shelter of Denass¡¯s cold embrace, and by the glow of moons of fate, I will serve faithfully until either my soul is called home or you have no further use of me. So I do swear.¡±

    ¡°You¡­¡± Allora stuttered. ¡°You cannot do that!¡±

    Even in the weak light of morning, Mitchell could see that Allora had gone white as a sheet.

    ¡°You cannot! I¡­ Mitchell, tell her she cannot do that!¡± There was a shrill note of panic in her voice that Mitchell wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d ever heard before.

    Mitchell looked from Allora to where Gilriel still kneeled, her head bowed.

    ¡°What did she do?¡± he asked, confused.

    ¡°She¡­ She just named me Lord Captain of the Onyx Knights! Tell her she cannot!¡±

    ¡°It sounds like she just did,¡± Lethelin said, but Allora was so distraught by what Gilriel had apparently just done that she didn¡¯t even acknowledge the words.

    ¡°Um, Gilriel? Is that something you have the authority to do?¡± Mitchell asked.

    ¡°Has my pledge been accepted?¡± Gilriel inquired from her spot on the ground.

    ¡°Yeah, sure,¡± Mitchell told her at almost the exact same moment that Allora shouted her own response.

    ¡°No!¡± Allora yelled but there was still more panic in her voice than any real anger.

    ¡°Thank you, my lord,¡± Gilriel replied, ignoring Allora¡¯s denial. ¡°I promise to serve with honor and distinction.¡±

    Gilriel rose smoothly and sheathed her sword in one smooth motion, her bearing one of stiff military formality.

    ¡°And, to answer my lord¡¯s question, before I left Lorivin, I was on the Council of Eight. One of our duties was the appointing of the Lord Captain in the event of a vacancy. Since I am the only member of the Council that is still alive, and I was never formally removed from that position, then yes, I am authorized to appoint a new Lord Captain. Unless you would like to object, my Lord Monarch. You have the right to deny the appointment.¡±

    ¡°No, no. Um¡­ Fine with me.¡±

    ¡°You cannot,¡± Allora said, her voice almost pleading now. ¡°Please, Gilriel.¡±

    The strength went out of Allora¡¯s legs, and she fell almost boneless to the ground. A look of motherly concern washed over Gilriel¡¯s features, and she went to the crumpled woman, who was staring off in shock into the distance but not seeing anything. Gilriel knelt down again and took Allora¡¯s face gently in her hands and forced the weeping knight to look at her.

    ¡°You listen to me, Allora De Annen. If I had every Lord Captain in the history of the order standing before me now, I would still name you to the position. From the first, Lydia De Balgruff, who pulled the order together in those chaotic days with her own blood and tears, all the way to your father. I would look each of them in the eye and I would tell them that there is none more worthy. And by Stollar¡¯s swinging cock, they would all agree!

    ¡°What you have done defies comprehension. You and you alone have stood against the might of the usurper, and through the power of your will alone, you are bringing a new monarch to the throne. And if we win back the city, there is no one else who I would rather see rebuild the knights than you, Allora. There has never been a knight more worthy. I swear it by Stollar¡¯s holy light. Do you understand me?¡±

    Allora sniffed.

    ¡°But how?¡± Allora asked, her voice trembling. ¡°I never even attended my graduation ceremony! It wasn¡¯t scheduled for another month when Milandris came.¡±

    ¡°The ceremony is a formality, Allora,¡± Gilriel told her gently. ¡°You were a knight the moment you soul-bonded your sword. Do you think Lydia De Balgruff had a graduation ceremony as she built the Knights one recruit at a time? Do you think Belgarion Ne Riva had a graduation ceremony during the war with Iletish when Lord Captain Sparkhawk fell? No, of course they didn¡¯t. They were knights who did what needed to be done. Their actions spoke the truth of their worthiness, not a graduation ceremony. Just as they have with you. Now, rise, Allora De Annen, Lord Captain of the Onyx Knights.¡±

    There was a note of authority and reverence in Gilriel¡¯s tone, and it seemed to resonate somewhere inside Allora. Mitchell watched as her back stiffened and her face firmed. Even sitting on the ground she appeared to grow taller.Gilriel noticed it, too and she smiled.

    Brushing off the last of her tears, she took Gilriel¡¯s hand and they rose together. Then Gilriel took a step back and started to bow before she looked over at Lethelin who was still sitting wide-eyed on the picnic table, a half-eaten piece of fruit frozen about three inches from her mouth.

    ¡°Girl,¡± Gilriel said, her voice low and hard, ¡°if you don¡¯t get up off that skinny ass of yours and bow before the Lord Captain, I will tan your backside so thoroughly that you will curse the day your mother ever met your father. Do I make myself clear?¡±

    Once Lethelin saw that Gilriel was not joking it was her turn to go pale. All that came out of her throat was a strangled squeak, and then she was up off the table like it had burned her, joining the elder knight in a low bow.

    Allora looked a little flustered at the attention, but she stood, back straight and proud, and accepted their gesture with grace and dignity.

    ¡°Thank you, both of you,¡± she said.

    The two women stood, Gilriel with a broad smile and Lethelin looking like she¡¯d just swallowed something slimy. Mitchell went up to her and took her hand and kissed it.

    ¡°Lord Captain Allora De Annen,¡± Mitchell said with a smile. ¡°I like the sound of that.¡±

    Allora blushed and squeezed his hand tightly.

    ¡°Do you really think I can do it?¡± she asked him, her voice somewhere between excited and fearful.

    ¡°I know you can,¡± he said as he brought his forehead to hers. ¡°One foot in front of the other¡­¡±

    ¡°Gets you where you¡¯re going,¡± she completed the phrase.

    ¡°Just so!¡± Gilriel said, enthusiastically. ¡°Just so. I rather like that saying.¡±

    ***

    ¡°Once you get inside the city, I want you to find an inn called The Mighty Nine,¡± Gilriel explained as they left the grove behind. ¡°The innkeeper is an old friend and was one of my agents when I was still at the palace. Her name is Cenedra.¡±

    Gilriel caught the question forming on Allora¡¯s lips before she could speak and knew what she was going to ask.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, she¡¯s still there. We exchange letters two or three times a year. Before you go into the inn you will need to buy three blue flax lilies and tie them with a yellow ribbon. Then, ask for Cenedra and give them to her. Tell her they¡¯re in memory of her aunt Leesha. She¡¯ll know what to do after that. When I get back to the city, hopefully with a few other knights at my back, I¡¯ll go to the inn myself. Leave word with her about where you¡¯re staying, and I¡¯ll know where to find you when I arrive. I don¡¯t expect to be more than a few days behind you. I already sent messages, and they¡¯ve agreed to meet me at a town a few days from Lorivin.¡±

    Mitchell nodded.

    ¡°Sounds easy enough,¡± he said and repeated the bit of information back to her to demonstrate he had it.

    They pressed on for another hour as the sun continued to brighten the land. At some point, Mitchell noticed that Lethelin was lagging behind the rest of them. Leaving Gilriel and Allora to discuss things among themselves, Mitchell slowed and allowed her to come even with him.

    ¡°Copper for your thoughts?¡±

    She glanced at him hesitantly and then he saw her eyes track forward to where the two knights were deep in conversation.

    ¡°I¡¯m happy for Allora. Really, I am but¡­¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re feeling left out? She got the new title and all?¡±

    ¡°It sounds stupid when you say it like that.¡±

    ¡°No, I know what you mean,¡± Mitchell told her and took her hand in his. ¡°I haven¡¯t forgotten what we talked about,¡± Mitchell told her, referring to her feeling like she would be passed over if they retook the city. ¡°So, I guess that just means I need a title for you, also.¡±

    She gave him sidelong glance.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need charity. I do just fine on my own.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯m not offering charity,¡± Mitchell reassured her. ¡°But something Gilriel said earlier got me thinking. This Cenedra woman was, or is maybe, an agent. Agent as in spies, espionage, assassinations, all of that. I will need agents and contacts. Stollar¡¯s balls, I will probably need an assassin or two. And I will need someone smart, deadly, and shockingly sexy that I trust above all others to manage that.¡±

    Mitchell could see a flush start at her cheeks and a smile start to form that she was unsuccessful in hiding behind her look of stubborn indignation.

    ¡°That is true,¡± she said. ¡°You would need someone with those qualities.¡±

    ¡°Mmhmm. Someone efficient, calculating, and brutal when the situation calls for it. Allora is many things, all of them amazing, but she can¡¯t do what you can do, Leth. Nor would I want her to try. I only need you to be you.¡±

    Her hand squeezed his and that was enough of a response.

    ¡°So,¡± he said after a few minutes. ¡°What should your new title be? Spy Master? The Spider? The Shadow Keeper?¡±

    Lethelin wrinkled her nose at that and wobbled her head.

    ¡°What was it you said Vras called me? Mual?

    ¡°Maula,¡± Mitchell corrected. ¡°Gilriel said it meant ¡®hunter¡¯ in Waivian.¡±

    ¡°I like that name. My secret title will be Maula to my contacts and underlings. The ones who will only know me by reputation, never who I actually am or that I work for the crown. It should be the name that people fear. I will need an official title to justify my position in court.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Mitchell said, liking the idea more and more. ¡°How about ¡®Minister of Information¡¯. It sounds official and diplomatic.¡±

    She nodded.

    ¡°I like it. So, by day I¡¯ll be your Minister of Information but my real work will be done in the shadows under the name Maula.¡±

    ¡°The Maula,¡± Mitchell corrected. ¡°Sounds more sinister.¡±

    Lethelin agreed.

    ¡°But¡­¡± Lethelin started to ask and then her voice trailed off.

    ¡°But what?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose Minister of Information outranks a Lord Captain, does it? Could we make Allora bow to me?¡±

    Mitchell barked a laugh.

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome to try,¡± he told her. ¡°But make sure I¡¯m well clear of any sort of blast radius before you do.¡±

    She grinned.

    ¡°Fair enough.¡±

 Chapter 72

    Gilriel separated from the group a few miles from Clayfaire heading west while Mitchell, the girls, Vras, and the yulops continued north towards the little town. They arrived at the forest just outside the settlement without issue and Lethelin went in to sell the yulops and use the additional coin to purchase three of their best jivis along with tack and bridle.

    Allora got a little misty eyed as Marvin and Tammi were led away.

    ¡°They were good animals,¡± she said.

    ¡°They were,¡± Mitchell agreed as he hugged her. ¡°Lethelin will make sure the stable owner knows to take care of them. They¡¯ll be okay.¡±

    She nodded but didn¡¯t comment further.

    Roughly two hours later Lethelin came back atop one of the horse-like creatures with two more in tow. Each wore a saddle that wasn¡¯t all that different than what he would expect to find on horses back home. The bridle was somewhat of a shock though, now that he was up close to one.

    Though quadrupeds similar in size to horses, the animals were slightly smaller and thinner and almost reptilian in appearance. Rather than long faces like their Earth analogues, they had stubbier heads with forward facing slitted eyes accented with orange-red irises which Mitchell found off-putting for reasons he couldn¡¯t quite articulate. Their faces and heads were scaled with inset ears like a lizard and the scales continued down their necks until it transitioned into a fine short fur, the colors of which were light tan to dark brown on the three she¡¯d brought back. Their limbs also transitioned from fur to scales not unlike chicken legs, and they had three-towed hooves that reminded him of ostrich feet albeit stubbier. They also had long incisors like a predator and their smaller teeth, while not quite sharp like a cat¡¯s, were definitely angular.

    But it was the bridle that really jumped out at him. Rather than a bit that was placed at the back of a horse¡¯s mouth through which the reins were connected, holes had been punched through the thick, almost chitinous scales of each animal¡¯s mouth and rings fitted through each. The animals didn¡¯t seem to pay them any mind, and it¡¯s not like Mitchell had any better ideas, so he didn¡¯t mention it.

    Once they stopped and Lethelin dismounted, all of the jivis started skittering about, their eyes going wide and fangs bared as they snorted and hissed.

    ¡°They did the same thing to me!¡± Lethelin yelled over the noise of stamping hooves and growls. ¡°They smell Vras, no doubt. I almost couldn¡¯t get them saddled.¡±

    ¡°Is this going to be a problem?¡± Mitchell called out as he reached for a set of reins to try and calm the beast down.

    ¡°They settled down for me eventually, but it took both me and the stable master nearly a half hour to do it.¡±

    Allora rushed over and grabbed the reins for the third one from Lethelin as she was barely holding on while she wrestled with her own. Her krisa flashed and a look of intense concentration came over her face as she struggled with the bucking animal which started to calm almost immediately. The other two, seeing their companion ease, appeared to take that as a good sign and stopped trying to rear up but they still pulled at the reins and attempted to dance away. Lethelin was dragged nearly off her feet more than once but Mitchell had an easier time seeing that he had at least fifty pounds on her.

    After fifteen or twenty seconds Allora let out a breath and dropped her spell.

    ¡°This one is calm, for now. I will see to the others.¡±

    Using the spell on the other two was easier work than the first, and after a couple of minutes the little clearing where they¡¯d been waiting was quiet once again.

    ¡°I¡¯m suddenly very glad I asked Vras to hang back,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°I was worried how the jivis would respond after seeing how upset the yulops were when they first met him.¡±

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Allora said.

    ¡°They¡¯re calm for now, but what happens when we stop and Vras comes around again?¡± Lethelin wondered.

    ¡°Do you think I should try to talk to them?¡± Mitchell asked Allora. ¡°The speak with animals spell should work for them, too, right?¡±

    Allora agreed that it would probably be a good idea and Mitchell set about talking to each animal. He was surprised at how hard it was but then he remembered that he had the same difficulty with Vras in the beginning and it took time for their bond to grow.

    After several painstaking minutes with each jivi ¨C the spell had to be cast on each one separately ¨C he thought he was able to get the point across that yes, there was a shadow cat nearby but that it was not a threat. All three animals eyed him warily at this information but the fact that he was able to speak to them directly and allay their fears went a long way. He did have to promise them that the animal would never be allowed into the camp when they slept which Mitchell knew Vras wouldn''t like when he told him, but it would only be for a few days.

    Given how annoyed the cat always was at how slow the ¡®two-legs¡¯ walked, the increase in speed should smooth over any annoyance at not being able to pester the jivis as he had the yulops in those early days.

    He stepped away into the forest and waited for Vras to find him and informed the cat of the plan. He was annoyed, as Mitchell predicted, but the idea of being able to move at speed sent a wild light dancing through the gratha¡¯s eyes. And, if Mitchell was being very honest, he was curious to see just how fast the shadow cat could travel.

    Finally, they were ready to ride.

    ¡°Have either of you ever ridden before?¡± Allora asked them after watching the clumsy way both he and Lethelin got into the saddles.¡±

    ¡°Obviously, there are no jivis on Earth, but I¡¯ve ridden a similar beast called a horse. But the last time I was on one was at summer camp at Camp Lakewood when I was about twelve high suns old. So it¡¯s been awhile.¡±

    Allora chose to ignore the English words mixed in with his Common as she understood the gist of what he was saying.

    ¡°My first time riding one was when I was leaving Awenor to cross over into Iletish a few months back,¡± Lethelin informed them. ¡°I rode with a trade caravan and the woman in one of the wagons smelled like week-old fish guts. I traded with a jivi rider for my spot in the wagon. I didn¡¯t walk right for three days after we arrived at whatever town that was.¡±

    Allora smirked and Mitchell grimaced. He¡¯d been afraid of that. The saddle was comfortable enough at the moment but he¡¯d have to see how his ass felt after several hours of hard riding.

    ¡°I am on the lead animal, the other two will follow her without much issue. All you need to do is hold on. I will start slow until you get a feel for it, then increase our speed gradually.¡±

    ¡°Will the jivi need to stop and rest often?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Periodically, yes. I will let you know. But they are good runners. We should get several kilometers out of them before they tire.¡±

    Mitchell nodded his understanding and Allora turned and started leading her jivi away.

    Lethelin¡¯s stepped in behind her and Mitchell¡¯s animal pulled up the rear. The rocking motion was jarring, but after a while he started to get a feel for the rhythm of the creature¡¯s gait and found he could sort of move his body with it to lessen the impact on his spine. Once Allora saw that they were adjusting she clicked her tongue and her mount picked up the tempo. Mitchell adjusted and the tempo increased again. It wasn¡¯t quite a gallop. While the trees here were old and decently spaced apart, going full speed would be far too dangerous. Still, the ground was flying compared to the rate at which they moved on foot and Mitchell was exhilarated by the speed.

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    A couple of times he spotted a black shape gliding over the ground alongside the three of them. If Mitchell had to guess, he would say that Vras wasn¡¯t even exerting himself. The few glimpses he did catch left him in awe. The shadow cat seemed to flow over uneven surfaces, his long body undulating as his six legs propelled him forward. Not for the first time, Mitchell was glad Vras was on their side.

    Around the time Mitchell was sure his ass was one giant bruise, Allora called a stop. They¡¯d moved at a good pace and, if he had to guess, they¡¯d covered at least triple the ground they could have made on foot.

    ¡°Let¡¯s rest and walk the jivis for a while, eat something, and then we will push on.¡±

    There was a very undignified amount of groaning from both Mitchell and Lethelin as they dismounted but Allora seemed only mildly saddle sore. She said she had plenty of experience riding and, even though she hadn¡¯t been in the saddle for a good while, she knew better than them how to move with the animal to make it easier for herself.

    After some light healing, they walked, eating as they went. Once Allora decided they were rested enough, they mounted back up and sped off again.The jivis chewed up the ground, even at the slower pace they were forced to travel at through the forest but he could feel the power in their lithe bodies and how they were eager to be let off the reins. Mitchell wished they¡¯d had these animals from the beginning, but it had worked out in the end, he knew. He¡¯d had the time he needed to learn how to use his magic and the sword. If they had covered this much ground when he first arrived, who knows where he¡¯d be in his skill levels.

    The rest of the day followed a similar pattern. Push ahead through the forest until Allora called a stop, then rest, then repeat. At one point, Mitchell asked if they would ever leave the shelter of the trees but she said that, seeing as they wouldn¡¯t need to cross any rivers at the moment, there was no reason to take one of the roads and risk exposure. At least not yet. She suspected that by tomorrow they would need to hazard travel on some roads and the closer they got to Lorivin and the more settled the land became, the more dangerous that would become.

    ¡°We need to get to the Orna and cross it, then, follow it west downriver as it winds its way through the forest. At the speed the jivis move, we should be clear of the forest by the third day. It is narrower in this part of Awenor so the journey is not very arduous. But there are only a few bridges that cross it and we will have to chance it. Likely, there will be guard stations but we will have to wrestle that troll when we come to it.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t we just cut through the middle of the forest away from the Orna?¡± he asked.

    Allora wobbled her head.

    ¡°Remember, we have stayed on the edges of the forest for our time here. The deeper we go in, the more treacherous it becomes. The threats posed by the beasts that call the deep woods home would be greater than a guard patrol on the roads. I would not take that path unless I had no other choice.¡±

    ¡°Noted.¡±

    They camped that first night a few miles past a small town that no one knew the name of. Everyone was exhausted and even Allora had bruises on her rear. Thankfully, everyone was able to get healed. Mitchell didn¡¯t know how they would have handled the second day without it.

    ***

    ¡°There are several two-legs ahead,¡± Vras called down from a perch in one of the trees.

    It was afternoon on the second day and they were walking the jivis after a long morning ride.

    ¡°How many?¡±

    Vras hissed in frustration. Numbers were a difficult concept for him to grasp. In conversation, Mitchell had learned that Vras didn¡¯t seem to think in terms of how much or how many of something. Just if he thought he could kill them all or if he was likely to be injured or killed in the attack. If he could not kill all of them on his own, then there were a lot. If he could, then there weren¡¯t.

    ¡°Two paws,¡± he said after careful deliberation.

    This was something Mitchell had worked out with him. He had four claws on each hand and a total of six paws equaling twenty four. Vras understood it in theory but appraising the world in those higher numbers still seemed to elude him. So even getting the answer of two paws ¡ª or eight people ¡ª was progress.

    Mitchell passed the information along to the girls.

    ¡°Can he tell us anything else?¡± Lethelin asked.

    Mitchell checked.

    ¡°They have blades and there are at least two magic users,¡± he reported. ¡°On foot, no jivis or other pack animals.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a patrol,¡± Allora said turning to Lethelin. ¡°Can you get closer and find out more information?¡±

    The thief snorted derisively, handed her reins to the knight and pulled up her cloak. Immediately her edges blurred and, by the time she passed the first tree in the direction Vras had indicated, Mitchell couldn¡¯t see her at all, even in the bright daylight. Above him, Vras quietly followed her, the cloak¡¯s enchantment having no effect on the shadow cat.

    ¡°I really want one of those,¡± Mitchell said quietly as he walked up to Allora.

    ¡°I, as well.¡±

    About twenty minutes later, Lethelin materialized just beyond the trees in front of them and gave her report.

    ¡°Patrol,¡± she said, simply. ¡°Milandris¡¯s men, not rangers. A little bit unhappy that they¡¯ve been sent to the forest to ¡®chase ghosts¡¯ as one put it, but from the chatter, it does sound like they¡¯re looking for us. I saw a krisa with four stones and a sevith with three. Couldn¡¯t make out which ones, though.¡±

    Mitchell raised an eyebrow. Four stones was the highest number he¡¯d come across since Dakath, who¡¯d had five. He had seen several people at The Sleeping Giant that could use magic, but three had been the highest so far.

    ¡°Is the one with the krisa likely to know a lot of spells?¡±

    Allora wasn¡¯t sure.

    ¡°As you know, learning spells take time. It really depends on how diligent that particular caster is and what they chose to specialize in. They may know several offensive and defensive spells but only one or two utility spells for the other stones. Or they may know several of each.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve noticed that I¡¯ve seen the same few spells used several times,¡± Mitchell commented as he reflected back on the battles he¡¯d been in. Is there some reason behind that?¡±

    ¡°You have been running into battle casters, mostly lower-ranked ones,¡± Allora explained. ¡°Some spells have much more utility in combat than others. More powerful spells require more mana and thus do more damage to gemstones so they run out faster. Lower-level casters also may not have the mana reserves for using spells such as your blade burst. As you discovered, it can burn through mana very quickly if you need to sustain it. So, casters like to fall back on spells that are practical rather than going for mana-intensive spells, unless they have to.¡±

    It always came back to using mana in the most efficient ways possible. Mitchell recalled Revos¡¯s teachings about never using a higher-circle spell when a lower-circle spell would do. And, given how fast a caster would run out of mana without casting through a stone first, he supposed that made sense. Burn through stones without a ready supply of replacements and you were screwed.

    Allora running out of stones had been ultimately what had cost Davrys his life. She burned through her mana too fast to heal him enough for them to escape. Mitchell supposed that, even with his exceptionally large mana reserves, he shouldn¡¯t let that go to his head. He needed to be just as economical with his spells as every other caster.

    ¡°Okay, so,¡± he said, looking at the girls. ¡°How do we want to do this?¡±

    ¡°We can take ¡®em,¡± Lethelin said with a cocky grin. ¡°Especially now that I have a bow.¡±

    ¡°May I remind you that there are eight of them and two casters?¡± Allora said levelly.

    ¡°May I remind you that I¡¯m an assassin?¡±

    ¡°Part time,¡± Allora shot back.

    Lethelin grinned and Allora gave her a reluctant grin back.

    ¡°Still, it¡¯s a good point,¡° Mitchell said. ¡±They do outnumber us more than two to one.¡±

    ¡°We have Vras, also,¡± Lethelin reminded them all. ¡°He did amazing in the forest before.¡±

    Vras made his appearance then, dropping lightly from a branch overhead. He then gave Mitchell his ¡°I want to talk¡± look.

    ¡°Do you have thoughts?¡±

    ¡°I wish to try my illusions.¡±

    Mitchell blinked.

    ¡°You said you didn¡¯t know how to use them yet.¡±

    Vras¡¯s inability to cast proper illusions with his tentacles was a source of constant frustration for the gratha and Mitchell had long since stopped asking him about it. The few times he had tried around Mitchell it had taken him several attempts and the illusions were indistinct, at best.

    ¡°I have learned,¡± was all he said.

    ¡°Can you show us?¡± Mitchell asked after explaining to the girls what Vras had just said.

    Vras sat down on his back two paws and his tentacles positioned themselves just above his head between his ears. They opened up to their full size and Mitchell saw small lights begin to flicker around the soft, pink flesh and the air just in front began to ripple. Then, about a meter in front of him, a shape began to form. It took a few seconds but as it took shape, Mitchell recognized himself, even down to the color of the gear he was wearing and the three-day old beard he was sporting.

    ¡°Oh, balls!¡± Lethelin said in amazement.

    ¡°He captured your likeness rather well,¡± Allora said.

    Mitchell nodded as he studied this copy of himself. It was quite fuzzy around the edges, and the closer he looked, he could see that a lot of the smaller features, things on his clothing for example, or his eyes, were not actually shapes of things, but just patches of color. His eyes had no sclera or irises, they were just blue spots in the face. His hair also lacked any actual definition, just a patch of brown. But that didn¡¯t detract from the impressiveness of what he was witnessing.

    ¡°Vras, that is incredible!¡± Mitchell said, praising the cat. ¡°Have you been practicing?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± he said.

    While his reply was curt, Mitchell could tell the cat was pleased with the praise as his tail flicked back and forth quickly over the ground.

    ¡°And how are you feeling? Very tired?¡±

    ¡°Not very much. I can create a similar illusion for a short time before I tire.¡±

    Mitchell¡¯s mind was racing at the possibility. After a few seconds he thought he had the workings of a plan.

    ¡°I think I know what we¡¯re going to do. Are you guys ready to strike our first blow against Milandris?¡±

    They all agreed.

    ¡°Okay, here¡¯s what I¡¯m thinking,¡± Mitchell told them and laid out his plan.

 Chapter 73

    Despite their careful planning, the opening rounds of the attack didn¡¯t go off as planned. Lethelin¡¯s opening arrow shot flew true, but it struck some sort of invisible shield that the caster had up already.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s balls!¡± Allora swore beside him as the cry of went up among the squad. ¡°He¡¯s got arcane armor up. Looks like we are in for a fight!¡±

    Mitchell readied to move and cast a glance at the knight beside him. She had an almost feral grin on her face.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± he told her.

    As they closed the last twenty or so meters to the road, the screams of the troops were getting more frantic.

    ¡°Raffin is down! Arrow just took him in the eye!¡± A panicked voiced yelled

    ¡°Ambush! Get down!¡± another voice yelled into the thick forest air.

    ¡°Where!¡± screamed another.

    ¡°I don¡¯t¨C Aggh!¡± The voice cut off with a strangled cry.

    ¡°There! Thirty meters ahead. Tane, fire!¡±

    As Mitchell and Allora charged onto the road just behind the scattered soldiers, Mitchell saw a wiry man with lank hair tied back in a ponytail extend his hand, and a small ball of fire formed there. Mitchell had a brief thought that the firebolt spell wouldn¡¯t accomplish much at that distance, but then the spell shot forward faster than expected, and it began to grow. Soon it was the size of a basketball, then it doubled in size again and a roar began to fill the air.

    Mitchell stared in fascinated horror as the giant ball of fire slammed into the tree where the squad thought Lethelin might be hiding, and the explosion was like a canister of gasoline detonating. There was a low whump and sharp crack of wood being blown apart. That was followed by a small black mushroom cloud that engulfed the tree as it rose into the air. The ground around the tree was splashed with fire and burned enthusiastically for about ten meters. Even from his position near the back of the column, he could feel the scorching heat of the inferno the caster, Tane, had just created.

    ¡°And to think, I was getting bored with the same old magical attacks,¡± Mitchell thought wryly.

    Mitchell spared a thought for Lethelin, trusting her to not be near the blast when it came, and then they were among the rear-guard troops, whose eyes were all facing the front staring at the pyrotechnics. Mitchell and Allora gave no warning, but the one Mitchell charged for, an elven woman crouched low behind a tree, must have sensed something behind her because she started moving as Mitchell¡¯s blade began to fall.

    She rolled at the last possible second and¨Cin a move he recognized as one of the first things he had learned¨Ccame up facing him with her sword at the ready.

    ¡°Behind!¡± she shouted, as she moved to attack him.

    From the corner of his eye, he saw Allora was also engaged with a soldier, and soon the air was filled the sound of clanging steel.

    The elven woman was fast and, if Mitchell didn¡¯t have the benefit of the heart stone, he would have been worried. As it was, though, his reflexes were easily a match for hers, and he had the benefit of superior training. He was able to meet her attack and then attack on his own, sending her scrambling back, a look of shock on her face.

    Not wanting to waste the opportunity, he fired off a round of arcane blasts to keep her off balance. He knew they wouldn¡¯t do anything against her armor, she was much better equipped than the toughs had been back in Iletish. Still, it had the desired effect. As the bolts slammed harmlessly into the armor of her chest, doing little more than leave some scorch marks, she was pushed back a step and her guard dropped as she fought to stay on her feet. Mitchell came in low and, before she could get her sword back up to defend, thrust it cleanly into her stomach. The woman gasped, and she clutched at the blade, slicing her hand open in the process. As Mitchell pulled his sword free, she fell and didn¡¯t rise again.

    He scanned for his next target. Tane and two other men were now converging on him. The two non-magic users were out in front, with the caster in the center about a meter behind. Off to the side, just inside the tree line, there was an explosion and a male voice screamed. The men jerked at the sudden light and sound and Mitchell charged at them just as their eyes were pulled away. They were quick, though, and had their swords ready. Tane brought his hand up in a rush and Mitchell could see a spell forming there. A crackling ball of energy that began to fill the space in front of his palm.

    ¡°Dodge, duck, dip, dive, and dodge!¡± he yelled to himself as he frantically tucked into a forward roll just as he saw the arcane lighting begin to expand.

    He landed just between the two sword users in a crouch, trying to maintain his balance, as the lighting sizzled a few inches over his head. Before the two men on either side could adjust Mitchell quickly cast Blade Burst.

    The spell released and the air around him was filled with spectral blades. The two men on his sides fell back screaming, their sliced hands losing their grip on their weapons. Just in front of him, there was an intense flash of light as Mitchell¡¯s spell came into contact with the arcane armor that the caster had.

    The man fell back with a high-pitched shriek, and Mitchell could just barely see what looked like shining cracks in the spell that protected him through the swirling blades. Mitchell rose and targeted the man on his left who was bleeding from every bit of exposed skin Mitchell could see, and thrust his sword through the man¡¯s unprotected neck. He pivoted and drove the sword point hard through the other man¡¯s chest armor, and then whirled to face the caster, who had a look of sheer panic on his pasty face.

    His armor had protected him from the blade burst spell, but it had done significant damage. There were spider-webbed cracks running all through it. Not wanting to give him time to fire another spell, Mitchell surged forward and brought his sword down in a powerful overhand arc, striking the caster¡¯s magical armor and sending out a flash of sparks. More cracks exploded out from the point of impact, and the man shrieked again. He brought his hand up and tried to cast, but Mitchell didn¡¯t give him time to collect his thoughts.

    Instead, he set about hacking at the shield with a series of lighting fast strikes at different angles, each one clanging on the barrier that was growing brighter as the fissures spread. The fury of the assault sent the scrawny man backpedaling until he lost his footing and fell on his ass. Mitchell brought his sword down over his head like he was trying to impress a date at a carnival by ringing the bell on the High Striker, and the shield shattered in a small explosion. The force was enough to carry through the magical defense and into the man¡¯s shoulder and torso. He died almost instantly, never getting to utter his last scream or plea for mercy.

    As Mitchell stood, he realized that the forest had gone mostly quiet. The tree was still burning enthusiastically, the crackle and pop of living wood filling the air, but the sounds of combat had ended. As he turned to look, he saw Allora standing over the form of the last three soldiers, all down on their knees and with their hands over their heads. Allora stood over them, sword at the ready, but her eyes were on him, and she was smiling.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    ¡°Well done, my lord,¡± she said, her voice thick and her grin hungry.

    Thanks to their romp in the forest a few days before, the term ¡°my lord¡± had taken on a whole new meaning.

    Mitchell surveyed the three prisoners. Two human men, somewhere in their late twenties or early thirties, and a dwarf whose age Mitchell could not determine. They were beaten, but they still looked defiant.

    ¡°What are we going to do with you?¡± he said to no one in particular.

    Lethelin stepped out of the tree line then, the hazy effect around her ending as she lowered her hood, and surveyed the damage. The prisoners jerked slightly in surprise at her sudden appearance, but that was nothing compared to when they saw Vras¡¯s slinking form emerge from the forest behind her.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s fucking cock!¡± one of the men on the ground screamed and fell back, scrambling to get away. Lethelin¡¯s drawn bow halted him. For a second, Mitchell thought he would choose to take his chances with the arrow pointed at his head rather than sit still a meter from a shadow cat, but he froze, his face pale and panicked.

    ¡°They have a bloody shadow cat!¡± the other one cried and began to tremble.

    The third man, a dwarf, actually fainted. His thick body thumping into the ground with a heavy thud.

    ¡°Wow¡­¡± Mitchell said at the display. ¡°You really weren¡¯t lying about how people would respond.¡±

    Allora merely arched an eyebrow and gave him an ¡°I told you so¡± sort of look.

    ¡°So,¡± Mitchell said to Lethelin, ¡°the illusion actually worked?¡±

    ¡°Yep,¡± she replied with a grin. ¡°It was still hazy but from that far away, they couldn¡¯t tell at all. It drew their fire perfectly. I wasn¡¯t even singed by that jivi fucker¡¯s fireball.¡±

    Mitchell walked up to Vras, stepping over the unconscious dwarf in the process, and scratched him behind the ears.

    ¡°Good job, Vras.¡±

    ¡°He touched it, Dreward!¡± the trembling man who had managed to stay on his knees said. ¡°He touched it! Denass, mother of night and watcher of souls, save me!¡±

    Vras, never one to miss an opportunity, stalked slowly up to the praying man and extended his tentacles and began to pluck at the man¡¯s face and growled.

    The guy actually wet himself. Mitchell stared wide-eyed as the sound of the man¡¯s bladder releasing filled the air and a puddle began to pool between his knees.

    ¡°Oh, Stollar¡¯s fucking taint, man!¡± Lethelin swore at him in disgust. ¡°Meet your death with dignity, at least. I¡¯ve seen dock rats with more backbone!¡±

    The man didn¡¯t respond. His eyes were closed, and he was muttering his prayer over and over. The fellow who¡¯d scrabbled away hadn¡¯t moved a muscle ¨C almost like he thought if he didn¡¯t move, they would all forget he was there.

    Vras signaled to Mitchell.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°May I claim this one?¡±

    That gave Mitchell pause. It was one thing to kill in battle but the men had surrendered and were captives. Even so, it wasn¡¯t like they had a stockade to put them in. They were on the move.

    Mitchell looked at Allora, and she could read the question in his eyes. She gave him a subtle nod.

    ¡°This is a war,¡± he told himself, not for the first time. ¡°This is how wars are fought.¡±

    Mitchell knew that. He knew it, but he hated it. He had read enough military histories in his teen years that he had no illusions about the brutality of the whole thing. He recalled especially the brutality that the Germans and the Russians had visited upon each other on the Eastern Front during the Second World War. The barbarity of it had been¡­ Well, Mitchell wanted to say inhumane, but it was very much a part of humanity. It always had been.

    If he didn¡¯t kill these men, they would be enemies at his back. They would report back about Lethelin and Vras, and he might very well have to fight them again later. Or they would join up with the larger forces when the time came, and they might kill others. The attack that was a direct result of his previous attempt at mercy was also still fresh in his mind. If he had a prison camp to send them to, or a jail, that would be different, but he didn¡¯t.

    ¡°God damn it,¡± Mitchell said as he accepted the decision.

    ¡°Do not make him suffer like the others,¡± Mitchell told Vras. ¡°Make it quick.¡±

    Vras sneezed his displeasure, but did not argue.

    Mitchell gave Lethelin a nod as well, and Mitchell stepped up to the dwarf, who had never woken up from his dead faint.

    This was his reality now. He would be forced to take life and order others to take life.

    Lethelin released her arrow into the man¡¯s heart, Vras lunged and took out his prisoner¡¯s throat, and Mitchell thrust his sword into the dwarf¡¯s heart, essentially killing him in his sleep. It was all over in seconds.

    The spent the next several minutes picking the dead clean of any valuables and came away with a good haul. The two casters had a decent supply of unused gemstones in their cekips and Mitchell and Allora took advantage to swap out their used ones for fresh. They also got a decent amount of crowns that went into the dimensional bag that they¡¯d been carrying since Besari. Then, the ground littered with the dead and a tree still smoldering, they retrieved their jivis and pressed on.

    ¡°Is it weighing on you?¡± Allora asked him sometime later as they were walking the jivis to allow them to rest.

    Mitchell looked up to see her brow creased with concern.

    ¡°You have been quiet since the battle,¡± she continued. ¡°You have been forced to fight often in the last ten-day.¡±

    ¡°I just keep wondering if they had families,¡± he told her quietly. ¡°Someone that loved them the way I love you and Leth. Someone waiting for them at home.¡±

    ¡°It is possible,¡± she admitted. ¡°It is tempting to think of them as all evil, incapable of love and friendship, but that is foolish. They did, however, choose to join the cause of an invader and attack a peaceful land.¡±

    ¡°Yes. No one made them sign up. This just isn¡¯t how I ever pictured my life turning out. I don¡¯t feel qualified to make these kinds of decisions, but I still need to make them. It¡¯s my responsibility. But¡­¡± he paused, ¡°will you do me a favor?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± she said without hesitation.

    ¡°If I ever look like taking life is becoming something I enjoy doing, I want you to stop me - in whatever way is necessary.¡±

    He stopped walking then, and faced her. Allora¡¯s expression had gone flat.

    ¡°Histories on my world are filled with men and women who started with the best of intentions, but their power went to their heads. They became fanatical and tyrannical. They started to hurt the very people that had chosen them as protection from some other evil. They became the thing they meant to destroy. I don¡¯t want that to happen to me. I don¡¯t want to become a monster.¡±

    ¡°You will not,¡± she said flatly. ¡°The stone would not have selected one who would succumb to such madness.¡±

    ¡°I still want your word that if you think I am heading down that path, you will stop me.¡±

    ¡°Mitchell, I¨C¡±

    ¡°Please, Allora. I hope that you are correct, but I still fear what would happen if you are wrong. I just killed an unconscious man ¨C a dwarf ¨C and ordered the execution of two others. And those executions were carried out on my orders. On my authority. If we take back the throne and raise an army to defeat Milandris, thousands of men and women will be marching into battle on nothing more than the authority given to me by a stone in my chest. That is a scary amount of power and it terrifies me. I need to know that, if the worst happens, you will protect the people from me if I can no longer be trusted.¡±

    She studied his eyes. He knew what he was asking of her, but Mitchell felt like this was something he needed if he was going to trust himself with the responsibility ¨C something or someone that would stop him if he lost his mind. He¡¯d read the stories of Ho Chi Minh, Kim Il Sung and Pol Pot, just to name a few. Men who didn¡¯t start out as evil, murdering bastards, but who fell in love with their own power so much that anything became justified to maintain it. Mitchell couldn¡¯t sit Allora down and give her a Reader¡¯s Digest condensed version of tyrannical leaders of Earth¡¯s 20th century, so he opted to just explain his reasons and hope that was enough.

    Finally, Allora nodded once.

    ¡°Very well, Mitchell Allen. It will be as you say. If your fears come to pass, I will do what is necessary to ensure that Awen and the people of Awenor are safe ¨C from you.¡±

    She added that last part as if she thought it not only silly, but crazy. But it did make him feel better, nonetheless. Most civilizations had given up on the whole notion of the divine right of kings and resting total power in the hands of one person. Mitchell wasn¡¯t fool enough to think he was going to topple the monarchy and install a representative democracy and then hold elections, but he would do what he could to make sure that he didn¡¯t become some sort of tyrant, either.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± he told her sincerely.

    She nodded once and then looked as if she was trying to put the issue out of her mind.

    ¡°Come,¡± Allora said. ¡°Lethelin is getting far ahead. We should catch up.¡±

 Chapter 74

    Mitchell stared at the sprawling medieval metropolis before him. He imagined it was what London or Paris must have looked like in the Middle Ages. Or maybe even Rome since Mitchell knew that, at its peak, there were roughly a million people in the city whereas London in the Middle Ages didn¡¯t even have a tenth of that. And Lorivin definitely held more than fifty thousand people.

    Their frantic pace through the forest had gone largely without incident after that first encounter with the patrol. With Vras to scout ahead, they had come across a few others, but opted to avoid them in favor of speed since it seemed to be more frequent. Word had obviously gotten out that they¡¯d tracked her to that part of the country and being somewhere else became a priority.

    The real trouble had been the bridge that they¡¯d crossed yesterday. There was a guard station at the bridge, just as Allora had suspected there would be. With Vras¡¯s help, though, they had been easy enough to distract.

    The shadow cat was getting better at his illusions and, in the small camp on the far side of the river, he had created visions of several truly terrifying creatures that had sent the people into a panic and Mitchell had given him permission to leave a guard¡¯s corpse somewhere to be found to add to the fear and confusion. This had drawn the handful of guards away from the guard stations at the bridge as people swore they were under attack from demons, and the trio had been able to creep across under the cover of darkness without being detected. They¡¯d had to stop and let Vras find some food after they¡¯d put enough distance between them and the bridge as using his illusion so much apparently took a lot out of him, but other than that, the journey was unhindered. Moving at speed had proved to be their best advantage.

    The city was roughly circular, with a diameter of four to five miles as near as he could tell. Mitchell could also see walls constructed at various intervals inside the settlement itself. Dominating the skyline was, of course, the palace. It sat on a rise near what counted roughly as the center of town, given its irregular shape. Maybe it had once been a proper circle but over the years it looked as if it had grown in fits and starts to meet the demands of the rising population and so that led to some interesting bulges here and there in walls that were constructed later.

    The palace wasn¡¯t some grand edifice with spires every fifty meters, but there were a few towers. It was hard to gauge the height since they were still a few miles from the city itself and the whole area sat in the bottom of a small depression that wasn¡¯t quite deep enough to be called a valley. Still, the string of hills that encircled the urban center did allow him to get a good view.

    Even from this distance, the translucent dome that shielded the palace was evident. It was almost like a soap bubble that enclosed the whole structure. In the bright light of the afternoon, he could just make out the high walls that encircled it and the buildings of the palace compound itself. He could see one large central building that was maybe eight or ten stories high, and then around that, many other smaller buildings, some clustered, and some set apart but still enclosed within the protection of the bubble. It reminded him quite a bit of a university campus from this distance.

    ¡°Wow,¡± was all he could say.

    Mitchell started to study the surrounding city, and he thought he could detect where districts might be based on the building sizes and orderliness of streets. Things closer to the palace looked grander, with more even lines indicating streets, and the more his eyes tracked out farther, the smaller the buildings became, the more varied in their designs, and the more disorderly the grid. He could make out market squares at various points and then the outer walls themselves, which seemed to have undergone some construction as of late. There were scaffolds erected at various points, and some parts of the walls were higher than others.

    Then, just outside the walls, there was a whole other city with little thought given to planning outside the main avenues going in through the main gates. It was like the haphazard market that he¡¯d seen outside Besari, only substantially larger. He could also see what were clearly homes and even apartment blocks outside the walls themselves. And, just as the gnome had said, there were long lines of people, carts, and goods, waiting to make it through the gates as things and people were searched.

    ¡°Lorivin,¡± Allora said, a note of both love and dread in her voice. ¡°We have finally made it.¡±

    ¡°I knew it was big,¡± Lethelin said, ¡°But I didn¡¯t know it was this big.¡±

    ¡°How does it compare to Varset,¡± Mitchell asked her.

    ¡°About double the size, I¡¯d say.¡±

    ¡°At the last census, the population of Varset was estimated to be just under three hundred thousand people,¡± Allora intoned as if reading from a fact sheet. ¡°The population of Lorivin is around eight hundred thousand permanent residents. So more than double.¡±

    The pride in Allora¡¯s voice at this fact was obvious, and she said it without taking her eyes off of the splendor of her home. And Mitchell had to admit, there was a majesty about the place.

    Lethelin, never one to let something like that slide, made her ¡°little miss know-it-all¡± face and mouthed mimicking the numbers behind Allora¡¯s back, but didn¡¯t reply. Mitchell grinned. They really were so much like sisters at this point, with their snipes at one another, but also a fondness that seemed to grow by the day. Even though their bickering could be a little frustrating, he still found it adorable.

    ¡°That is the Onyx Gate,¡± Allora said, pointing to a large structure off to their right opened out towards the east. ¡°The road swings north and enters the Shadow Glen about three days ride from here. One can take it to the northern sections of Awenor and eventually to Kazig, either by boat across the Hartik Sea, or via passage through the northern section of the Skybreaker Peaks.¡±

    She indicated the gate to their left and the road it serviced, which arced away from the city and pushed through the western ring of hills.

    ¡°That is the Sapphire Gate and that road heads towards the coast and,¡± Allora glanced at Lethelin, ¡°Eventually all the way to Varset. The other three gates are the Blood Stone Gate, the Opal Gate, and the Obsidian Gate.¡±

    Mitchell and Lethelin watched where she indicated and, while the Opal and Obsidian gates were on the far side of the city from their vantage point, he could still make out the roads that led away from them.

    Allora continued with her geography lesson.

    ¡°The Onyx Gate is reserved for official traffic only. That is people or merchants traveling on diplomatic missions, goods meant for the palace or one of the many embassies inside the walls, government business, the Knights, or high level city or military officials.¡±

    Mitchell nodded his understanding and Allora continued.

    ¡°The Sapphire Gate is for non-official merchants and people with business in the Cloud District.¡± She glanced at her two students. ¡°That is the district just outside the palace proper.¡±

    ¡°The snobby rich folk, right?¡± Lethelin remarked, as her eyes followed the road where it tracked into the city and up the gentle slope towards the palace.

    ¡°The people there are considered the wealthy of Lorivin, yes,¡± Allora answered, her voice a little tighter. ¡°The rest of the gates are open to any traffic except for Opal Gate. That is the smallest and reserved for foot traffic, or for individuals, merchants and tradesmen with no more than a pull cart.¡±

    ¡°Do you know where the inn is that we¡¯re supposed to report to?¡±

    ¡°It is in the Kethend District¡­¡± Allora¡¯s voice trailed off as her eyes scanned the city. ¡°Roughly there.¡±

    She indicated a section of the city west of the Onyx Gate but off from the main road about halfway up the slope towards the palace.

    ¡°It is a mix of residential and trade shops.¡±

    ¡°Which gate do you think you¡¯ll use,¡± Mitchell asked Lethelin.

    ¡°Hmm?¡± she said distractedly as he pulled her out of her thoughts. ¡°Oh, probably none of them.¡±

    ¡°But how will you get us into the city?¡± Allora demanded.

    She¡¯d brought up her finger to twirl around a ring of coppery red hair as she studied the buildings and people outside the walls.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know yet,¡± she said as she pursed her lips, her eyes calculating.

    ¡°You said you can get us in!¡± Allora said, the pitch rising enough that Lethelin was finally pulled away from her deliberations.

    ¡°Oh, unbunch your armor, woman!¡± Lethelin retorted. ¡°I don''t know right now. I need to look around first. I have to make contact with the guild, and that will take me at least an hour. I¡¯ll have you in by nightfall or tomorrow morning at the latest. Stop worrying! What you need to do instead is figure out how you¡¯re going to get Vras in through all of that. Getting people through will be easy. I can¡¯t do anything about our resident hell beast.¡±

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°I have a plan for that,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°But I don¡¯t think Vras will like it. Can you get us in with some supplies?¡±

    ¡°I can get you in with a dancing goblin troupe,¡± she said. ¡°But no one will let a shadow cat in without screaming to the two moons and back about it. So you deal with him and I¡¯ll deal with getting us in.¡±

    Mitchell explained what he wanted and she frowned.

    ¡°That will make it harder, but I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡±

    With that, Lethelin set off towards the city with their mounts in tow to sell them and then make her contacts. Once she was on her way, Mitchell and Allora retreated to a copse of trees well out of sight of the roads and the occasional patrol that passed by and awaited her return.

    ¡°Are you nervous,¡± he asked her as she leaned into where he sat with his back to a low tree.

    ¡°Yes. I have not been back to the city since I fled shortly after the coup. It is my home, and I hate that I am afraid to enter its walls. And I am afraid of what will happen if we are caught. My whole life has been leading to this moment for two years. And we are only a few miles away from the throne. I wished so often to be in this exact position and, now that I am, I am terrified of it all going wrong.¡±

    ¡°I think we¡¯re going to make it,¡± Mitchell said.

    Allora turned and looked up at him.

    ¡°Why is that?¡±

    Mitchell recalled that night in the cave with Lethelin when they¡¯d discovered they¡¯d been trapped with no way out. Lethelin had been panicking, only a heartbeat away from full-blown hysteria at having a mountain pressing down on her, and he¡¯d needed to calm her down.

    ¡°Because I¡¯m just too pretty,¡± he told Allora, echoing what he¡¯d told Lethelin in the cave. ¡°I¡¯m too pretty for Stollar to let me die.¡±

    ¡°What?!?¡± Allora demanded. Then she saw the teasing look on his face and she laughed.

    The knight twisted, sat up, and then straddled his legs and placed her arms over his shoulders. Her hair was free, and it fell in long black waves past her shoulders as she leaned in.

    ¡°I love you,¡± she said as her eyes locked onto his.

    ¡°Love you more,¡± he told her back and kissed her.

    ***

    As the sun approached late afternoon, Lethelin emerged from the stable, her purse a bit heavier from the sale of the jivis, and began to head to what the stable master had called the Maka. A sort of unofficial district near the Opal Gate where she could find shadier dealings. Even though Lorivin wasn¡¯t her territory, she found she walked easier among the warrens of the outer city than she did in the wilds. The noise, the smells, the bodies, the mix of languages and races, all of it was like home to her.

    Lethelin exited the stable and all its foul odors, and stepped back onto the road. She immediately spotted the young pickpockets already sizing her up. They would have seen her go in with three jivis and almost no gear, and come out with none. That indicated a sale, which meant heavy pockets. Before they even started their approach, she flashed a quick hand sign and all but one of them, the youngest, halted and tried to look busy doing other things.

    ¡°Move on,¡± it signaled to them. ¡°I¡¯m not a mark and you don¡¯t want to fuck with me.¡±

    The youngest one apparently didn¡¯t pick up on the signal and was still working to get into position when an older boy cuffed him on the back of the head and whispered something in his ear, and then yanked him off somewhere.

    Lethelin grinned and tried to remember when she¡¯d been that young. Not that it was that long ago, but it felt like a dragon¡¯s age when she thought about how far she¡¯d come as a gangly teenage girl rebelling against her mother and the memory of her father, and thinking she could be in a gang. She remembered those first fights she¡¯d had when one of the older boys thought she was an easy target, either to rob or to bed, and how quickly she¡¯d disabused them of that notion. At fourteen high suns, she¡¯d been small, but she hadn¡¯t been weak, nor had she been a fool.

    The leader of the first gang she¡¯d tried to join had been one such boy. Narder, he called himself. The arrogant river slug actually tried to claim the title of Edrokii with his little gang of six boys who barely had hair on their sacks yet and one girl who was missing a leg. She was surprised one of the more established gangs didn¡¯t kill him on principle for trying to claim he was a true boss.

    Narder been sixteen high suns old at the time, although she found out later he¡¯d never made it to seventeen. But the moldy crotch stain had claimed that any girl that wanted to join up with his gang had to bed him. Lethelin played along, acting too scared to resist, until his confidence was up, and he took his filthy pants down. Then she¡¯d buried her rat sticker in his nethers and punched him in the nose so hard that he had breathed with a whistle up until the day he¡¯d been killed trying to steal some cargo from a boat crew.

    Needless to say, she¡¯d found a better gang after that. And the boys in that one had heard about what had happened to Narder and left her alone. At least when it came to trying to bed her. She¡¯d still had scraps when they wanted to steal some of her coin to make them look better for their Edrokii. Some she¡¯d won, some she¡¯d lost, but once Alvi found her, no one bothered her again.

    ¡°Balls, but I miss that gnarled old skitterback,¡± she thought to herself with a sad smile.

    As Lethelin picked her way across the sprawling outer city, she spotted several more pickpockets but only needed to signal one of them. The others were otherwise occupied. She came across a handful of patrols but, thanks to Mitchell¡¯s decision to leave no witnesses, she was unknown to the city watch and had no fear of being recognized.

    She was glad that he had found his mettle. The way he often talked about things back on the human home world, life there seemed incredibly soft. At least in the part that he lived in. He had shared some stories of the scale of conflict that the humans had and, honestly, she still wasn¡¯t sure if she believed him. The way he described the weapons and the machines, she found it hard to fathom such mechanized death. But his life, it seems, had been free from war and deprivation. Killing seemed to trouble him, even when the bastards were out to kill him. She had been prepared to argue for the surrendering members of the squad¡¯s execution, but she didn¡¯t have to, much to her relief.

    Oddly enough, she could tell when she¡¯d crossed that imaginary line into what the locals called the Maka. Something about the mood changed almost immediately. Glances were a little more furtive, people walked a little more on their guard, and stares were more hostile. The buildings were roughly the same, but the atmosphere was seedier and the smells slightly riper. This was the place, all right.

    She prowled around, looking for the subtle signs of gang territory markers. Some were obvious, like a dagger stuck into the lintel of a door at the start of one street, a weathered and crumbling drake skull driven onto a pike. The streets seemed much the worse for wear, though so she kept looking. Gangs that couldn¡¯t even maintain the look of their front businesses likely wouldn¡¯t have the connections she needed.

    As Lethelin stepped around something unpleasant in the road, she ended up coming close to a few barrels that had been placed near the wall of an apothecary. She felt the shift in her clothing immediately and her hand shot out like a scorpion¡¯s tail and seized the offending wrist. There was a muffled screech and Lethelin turned her head to see the wide eyes of a girl, face grubby and hair unkept, staring at her as though Denass herself was weighing her soul. She was wedged tightly between two of the barrels, and Lethelin could see the small-pointed ears and vibrant eyes that marked her as a half-elf child. Full elves had eyes that almost seemed to glow, but half-elves didn¡¯t have that same quality. Instead, they were merely richer in color, more crystal-like in appearance.

    ¡°Clumsy, girl. The last one who tried to take what was mine lost the offending hand.¡±

    The girl¡¯s grubby face paled noticeably.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, m¡¯lady!¡± she said in that smooth Lorivin accent. ¡°Please don¡¯t take my hand! I need it!¡±

    Lethelin yanked and the child came sprawling out from her hidey-hole, all set to fall on her face but she pulled the sloppy pickpocket up to her feet.

    Lethelin got a good look at her then. She was a gangly thing, all knees and elbows, her clothing patched, her honey-blonde hair filthy and greasy. Dirt under her fingernails, scratches and bite marks on her arms that Lethelin recognized all too well, and a fading bruise on her cheek.

    ¡°You¡¯d rather I turn you into the guard?¡±

    The girl wobbled her head so hard that Lethelin thought she heard bones clattering. Tears began to well-up in her hazel eyes.

    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    The girl looked around, perhaps thinking someone would come to her aid. She¡¯d have better luck finding true love in a dockside brothel. The few people on the road all had better things to do than worry about some gutter rat who was too clumsy to snatch a purse.

    ¡°Speak, girl!¡± Lethelin barked.

    ¡°Eraphys, m¡¯lady,¡± the girl squeaked. ¡°Eraphys Ne Silvalorin. Please let me go, m¡¯lady. I¡¯m sorry I tried to pick your pocket. I won¡¯t do it again.¡±

    ¡°How old are you, Eraphys Ne Silvalorin?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m twelve high suns old, m¡¯lady.¡±

    ¡°When is the last time you had a hot meal?¡±

    ¡°M¡¯lady?¡± Eraphys said, her tone uncertain.

    ¡°Don¡¯t make me repeat myself, gutter rat, or I¡¯ll cut off the hand and feed that to you.¡±

    ¡°Two days ago, m¡¯lady!¡± Eraphys blurted. ¡°Madam Sarry at the Dancing Moons Tavern let me clean the stables for a meal.¡±

    ¡°You fancy another one?¡±

    ¡°Another one?¡±

    ¡°A meal, you silly girl. Do you want something to eat?¡±

    ¡°Y- Yes, m¡¯lady,¡± she said, her eyes wide and hopeful.

    ¡°Listen up, Eraphys. I¡¯m new in the Maka and I need to find some people. You point me in the right direction, and I¡¯ll see to it you¡¯re fed and some coin in your pocket besides. How does that sound?¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t turn me into the guard, m¡¯lady? Or take my hand?¡±

    ¡°If you keep your word ¨Cand stop calling me m¡¯lady ¨CI won¡¯t. Do we have a deal?¡±

    The girl nodded enthusiastically and Lethelin finally released her scrawny wrist. The girl rubbed at the joint, trying to work the feeling back into it, and for a second Lethelin thought she would make a run for it. Just then, however, the girl¡¯s stomach rumbled, and Eraphys still had the manners to look embarrassed.

    ¡°Could we, um, maybe eat first, m¡¯l¨C mm, miss?¡± Eraphys asked gently, those too-bright hazel eyes pleading.

    ¡°Yeah, come on,¡± Lethelin said, shaking her head. She¡¯d seen fatter cloud addicts after a week-long binge. ¡°Is there a spot close by that you like?¡±

    Lethelin began to walk, and the girl immediately moved beside her.

    ¡°The Drake Rider two streets over has good athi pies,¡± she said. ¡°They aren¡¯t too spicy. I heard people from Varset can¡¯t eat spicy food.¡±

    Lethelin eyed her curiously.

    ¡°Who told you I was from Varset? And who said we couldn¡¯t eat spicy foods?¡±

    ¡°Your accent. I¡¯ve heard people like you before in my father¡¯s shop. They were merchants that came all the way from the coast to buy his paper. They said it was the best in all of Awenor. And everyone knows people on the coast can¡¯t eat drake peppers.¡±

    Lethelin snorted at the notion. How silly. But then again, a lot of people in Varset said that the people in Lorivin were all afraid of the sea and wouldn¡¯t come within a kilometer of water they couldn¡¯t see the other side of.

    Eraphys indicated that they should take a left at the next corner.

    Lethelin felt her brow furrow at the other things the girl said.

    ¡°Eraphys, if your father sells the best paper in all of Awenor, why are you hiding between barrels in the Maka trying to steal coin?¡±

    ¡°He¡­ he was killed when the soldiers came. My mother, too. They had gone to the palace to deliver paper and,¡± the girl swallowed. ¡°And they never came back out.¡±

    ¡°Well, balls and taint,¡± Lethelin said to herself.

    ¡°Excuse me,¡± A harsh voice said from behind them, and Lethelin heard Eraphys gasp. ¡°But where do you think you¡¯re going with my git?¡±

 Chapter 75

    Lethelin turned to find a wiry human of about twenty-five high suns with greasy, slicked-backed hair the color of stable yard mud and bloodshot watery blue eyes. He had a day''s growth of whiskers in patches along his jaw and a scar across his right cheek. His lips were cracked, and he had the distinct smell of someone who¡¯d taken a cloud trip in the last few hours. His pale eyes were glassy with the effects, and there was still spittle on his chin. Must have been poor quality stuff. His clothes were in little better condition, looking ill-fitting and soiled with things that Lethelin was sure she didn¡¯t want to guess at.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Master Erik!¡± Eraphys said in a panicked squeal. ¡°She was gonna take me to get some food, and I was going to take her coin there! I promise I was!¡±

    Lethelin hardly knew the girl, but even she could tell she was lying.

    ¡°You little gutter rat,¡± Erik snarled. ¡°I told you not to leave that spot until yous collected at least three silver. How much have you got?¡±

    ¡°F¨C four copper, Master Erik.¡±

    ¡°Yous are about the most worthless piece of shit that ever fell off an offal cart, yous are. I can see that the lesson I taught yous the other day didn¡¯t stick. I¡¯ll see yous don¡¯t ever forget the next one.¡±

    Eraphys whimpered, and that was when Lethelin decided she¡¯d had enough.

    ¡°Master Erik, is it?¡±

    The man looked at Lethelin, almost like he¡¯d forgotten she was there.

    ¡°That¡¯s Edrokii Erik to yous, my lovely. Looking for works? I know a good brothel wheres a woman with hair such as that would fetch a fine price.¡±

    Lethelin snorted and couldn¡¯t hide the scorn on her face.

    ¡°Edrokii? You? You look like you¡¯ve been dragged behind a jivi cart halfway to Kazig and back, and then dumped into a barracks latrine. If a real Edrokii hears you say that, they¡¯ll gut you and use your innards for chum.¡±

    Erik squinted his eyes at her, no doubt trying to clear his cloud-addled thoughts.

    ¡°Who are yous? I ain''t seens yous around here before.¡±

    ¡°Who I am is no one you want to toy with. The girl and I have business, and it does not include you. Now crawl back to whatever cloud den you were shat out of and don¡¯t ever speak to me again.¡±

    ¡°The girl is mines. She owes mes for the bed she sleeps on and the food I puts in her belly. She ain''t earned back half what I spents on her yet, and she¡¯s too young to works on her back. So yous gives me whatever yous was gonna pays her, or she ain''t going nowhere. Yous understand me?¡±

    Lethelin felt a tug at her cape and looked down to see Eraphys¡¯s glitter-bright eyes staring up at her.

    ¡°Please, miss. Don¡¯t make him angry. I¡¯ll go with him, it¡¯s okay.¡±

    ¡°Yeah!¡± Erik seconded. ¡°Yous best not be making mes angry. I gots ways of teaching lessons to women whos makes me angry. Don¡¯t I, Eraphy?

    Eraphys nodded her head in a jerky sort of way and shied away from him. It took all Lethelin¡¯s strength not to end the disgusting man right then and there. She thought about the mission, though, and figured it was better to be discreet. Bodies draw attention, even in a place like the Maka.

    With the girl trembling against her leg, Lethelin fished out five silver.

    ¡°Here,¡± Lethelin said, offering them in her palm. ¡°And by Stollar¡¯s holy light, if you lay a finger on this girl again, I will slice open your belly and hang you with your own guts. Do you understand?¡±

    Erik¡¯s eyes widened at the silver in Lethelin¡¯s palm, no doubt already thinking of the powder he could buy with it. He reached for it, his face splitting into a grin, and Lethelin pulled her hand back out of reach.

    ¡°I¡¯ll have your word, Erik, and I¡¯ll have it now.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. Take her!¡±

    He was almost vibrating with his lust for the coin and Lethelin was glad she had her gloves on. The idea of even this man¡¯s fingers brushing against her palm made her skin crawl like it was covered in sand fleas. She extended her palm once more and he snatched the coins and was off without another word. Lethelin resisted the urge to spit.

    ¡°Now,¡± she said, turning back around to Eraphys. ¡°About that food.¡±

    The girl was staring at her with a mix of disbelief and what looked like horror.

    ¡°Close your mouth, Eraphys, or something¡¯s likely to fly in there and build a nest.¡±

    She did so but looked no less shocked.

    ¡°I¡­ I can clean well, and I¡¯m getting better at¡­ at picking pockets. I just need practice, is all. But I¡¯ll get better, I promise. And you don¡¯t have to send me to work on my back when I¡¯m older. I¡¯ll make the coin back you paid him. Under Stollar¡¯s light, I will. And you won¡¯t need to teach me any lessons. I¡¯m a good listener. Really, I am!¡±

    Lethelin stared at the shaking little girl, half starved, filthy, covered in rat bites, and desperate, and she almost cursed the gods. She let out a long sigh, instead.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t buying you, silly girl.¡±

    Eraphys stared at her, her brow creasing as she tried to understand.

    ¡°But you gave Master Erik five silver. It¡¯s so much!¡±

    ¡°It was easier to give him the money than to kill him. I¡¯ve got more important things to do today than hide a body. And there¡¯s still coin for you if you can help me get my work done. Now, food or not?¡±

    Eraphys nodded and then gave her rescuer a cautious smile. For just a moment, Lethelin thought she could see the beautiful girl that was buried beneath all the grime and filth. What she might have looked like if her parents hadn¡¯t been killed, but were instead still making the best paper in Awenor and reading her stories in her bed at night.

    ¡°Come on, then.¡±

    Lethelin held out her hand, and Eraphys stared at it dubiously.

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to cut my hand off and feed it to me, right?

    The girl was almost grinning.

    ¡°Not today,¡± Lethelin told her, and smiled back. ¡°Can¡¯t promise about tomorrow, though. Might need something to feed my pet shadow cat.¡±

    Eraphys giggled, but placed her hand in Lethelin¡¯s, and they continued on to find food.

    ¡°Everyone knows you can¡¯t have shadow cats as pets!¡± Eraphys proclaimed.

    ¡°Is that so?¡±

    ***

    As much as Lethelin wanted to indulge the girl, she was on a schedule. She allowed her one medium athi pie, and ate a green drake pepper raw, just to show the girl that people from Varset could indeed eat spicy food, thank you very much. Once she¡¯d had her fill, which honestly wasn¡¯t even half of the pie they¡¯d ordered, Lethelin let the food settle before getting down to business.

    ¡°Eraphys, do you know the game people play on the streets called Three-Toed Troll?¡±

    She scrunched up her nose at the image but wobbled her head.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of that. What is it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a game with three cups that are moved around and underneath one is usually a round stone, like an Iva stone, or something similar. The person moves the cups quickly, and the person watching has to try and find the ball when he stops.¡±

    Eraphys¡¯s eyes went wide and she suddenly nodded.

    ¡°I know that game. But they don¡¯t call it Three-Toed Troll.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s it called?¡±

    ¡°The Knight¡¯s Gambit,¡± she replied. ¡°I¡¯ve seen it a few times. Erik likes to play it sometimes, but he never wins.¡±

    Lethelin wasn¡¯t surprised, and said so.

    Eraphys nodded, but then Lethelin saw a shadow pass over her face.

    ¡°He gets mad when he loses, though.¡±

    ¡°Well, don¡¯t worry about him. Do you know where I can find a game? Not just any game, though. Do you know where I can find the best Knight¡¯s Gambit player around here?¡±

    Eraphys frowned in thought.

    ¡°Not many people play it in the Maka.¡±

    Lethelin waved the idea aside.

    ¡°I¡¯m thinking more near the Obsidian or Blood Stone Gates. Preferably the Obsidian.¡±

    It had been clear to her in her short wanderings through the Maka that the quality of the lowlife she wanted wasn¡¯t going to be found there. She¡¯d not spotted anyone displaying a proper guild affiliation and had been close to giving up and moving on when Eraphys had taken her chance and tried to lift some coin.

    ¡°Erik never left the Maka, but I used to run messages for some of the shops,¡± Eraphys mused. ¡°Sometimes near the Blood Stone and to the Obsidian.¡±

    Lethelin waited, idly picking at some of the pastry of the leftover pie crust, while the girl searched her memory.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t see a Knight¡¯s Gambit player, but once near the Obsidian gate I saw someone playing a different game. It was with cards. I think I¡¯ve seen more card games than Gambit games.¡±

    Lethelin wondered if the people in Lorivin just didn¡¯t care for the game. Three-Toed Troll was the street hustle of choice for those back home. She was familiar with the card games, usually called The Sea Fairies in Varset. It had been a little while since she¡¯d run it herself, though.

    ¡°That could be what I need. Do you remember where it was?¡±

    Eraphys creased her brow a moment, then her face lit up.

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°I do! I remember because I was bringing a message from a stable master to a buyer at an inn on that street. The card game was in a little park. There were some people standing around in really nice clothes.¡±

    Lethelin smiled.

    ¡°That¡¯s what I want. What was the name of the inn?

    Eraphys pursed her lips in thought for a moment.

    ¡°The Silverblood!¡± she said triumphantly, pleased to be useful.

    ¡°That¡¯s my girl,¡± Lethelin told her, then set down three silver on the table in front of the clumsy pickpocket.

    Eraphys¡¯s eyes bulged.

    ¡°And there will be more of that if you do something else for me.¡±

    ¡°Wh¨C What?¡±

    ¡°I want you to stay here until I get back. You are not to leave the tavern for any reason. I¡¯ve already spoken to Tilly, and she¡¯s agreed to let you sleep in the store room if I¡¯m not back by nightfall. You¡¯ll have as much food as you need, and she¡¯s going to let you into her little house in the back to bathe. Don¡¯t steal anything. Mind your manners, stay out of sight, get cleaned up, and wear whatever clean clothes she gives you. Do that and you¡¯ll have more coin. Do we have a deal?¡±

    Eraphys sat frozen for a moment, seemingly too afraid to move lest the spell end. Finally, she nodded, and her hands reached slowly for the coins.

    Lethelin nodded back and stood to go.

    ¡°Okay. Get to it. Don¡¯t make any trouble, and I¡¯ll be back when I¡¯m done.¡±

    The girl suddenly stood and flung herself around Lethelin. She was sniffling, but only quietly.

    ¡°Thank you, miss¡­ miss¡­¡±

    ¡°Call me Leth,¡± she told her as she patted the crying girl¡¯s head.

    ¡°Please come back, Miss Leth. I won¡¯t make trouble. I promise I won¡¯t!¡±

    Lethelin suddenly found herself fighting back her own tears.

    ¡°Look at me, going all soft. Damn it, Mitchell!¡± she cursed him silently. ¡°You¡¯re turning me into bladder fish!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be back before you can say glitter fish.¡±

    Eraphys allowed herself to be pulled away and wiped at her grimy nose.

    ¡°Bath first, I think,¡± Lethelin told her.

    She nodded and gave an embarrassed smile.

    ¡°Off with you.¡±

    ***

    It took Lethelin nearly an hour to get over to the Obsidian Gate from the Maka. The area, while still in the outer city, was nicer than most. It had a more established feel to it, with several of the older buildings having actual stonework and some streets that were cobbled. There were more guards present, which only confirmed her suspicions and was why she¡¯d wanted the Obsidian Gate to begin with. If a street rat was running The Sea Fairies out in the open here, that meant money to bribe the guards to look the other way. Someone making that good a profit was almost certainly a guild member. Little gangs in the Maka might pay dues to the Guild, but none that she¡¯d seen looked noteworthy enough to have earned a membership. That struck her as odd in and of itself. The Maka was plenty big enough to attract a lot of vice, and that she hadn¡¯t been able to find a guild affiliation spoke to something having happened.

    She turned down the street where she had been told she would find The Silverblood Inn and took her time getting to the park area. She even stopped to purchase some bread from a cart so that she would look more like a casual traveler. She came to the little park in short order. And there was her fish.

    He looked human and young, certainly no older than Lethelin herself, but he had an easy smile and a confidence that spoke of long experience working crowds. He was smartly dressed in a violet tunic and tight black pants that showed off a shapely backside. He accentuated that with a silver belt with short silver tassels on it that glittered as he moved. It was a good effect, she thought. His Fairies table was just slightly slower and every time he swirled his hips the tassels flashed, helping to distract the eye. He also wore slim gold bracelets on each wrist that added to the effect. Lethelin walked up slowly, working her way to the front of the crowd, bakery bag in hand, acting as if she¡¯d been brought in by his crowd work. He was chatting with a few of the audience and looked like he was finding his rhythm and just beginning his routine.

    ¡°Step up my fair and gentle folk, and test your fate!¡± he called out enthusiastically. ¡°Tis but a game of chance, you see, and victory comes to those who don¡¯t hesitate!¡±

    His clever wordplay got him a few smiles, and Lethelin watched his hands move the cards around smoothly. They made a steady click-click-click as he placed each one down in a slightly circular hypnotic pattern.

    ¡°Find the lady, with hair so fine, and win a silver, most divine!¡± He flipped over one of the cards to reveal a drawing of Vish, a silver moon in the background. ¡°Or maybe it¡¯s men your heart doth desire? Is it bulging muscles that set your loins afire?¡± At that, he flipped over another card to reveal a drawing of Ithstasy with the golden moon. ¡°Then find the gentlemen, with eyes of gold, and win a crown, a risk for only the bold!¡± That earned him a few oohs and aahs.

    ¡°But truly the greatest treasure has yet to be seen, and it can all be yours if her location you can but glean.¡± The man flipped over the third card and held it out to the audience, and Lethelin saw there her namesake.

    ¡°You just had to do it, didn¡¯t you, mother?¡± she groaned inwardly.

    The street rat continued.

    ¡°Double your money, if you dare, but heed my words, I say ¡®beware¡¯. For the dancer is fast, and her lesson is clear: all will pass, especially love, most dear.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± Lethelin admitted to herself. ¡°He¡¯s pretty good.¡±

    The rules of the game were simple enough, although this version was a little different from the ones usually played in Varset. The Three Fairies only had one winner. This one, it seemed, was designed to give some freebies to lure people in to go for the prize. Once she got that down, she looked for the man in the crowd. It took some patience but eventually she found the partner. It wasn¡¯t a man, but a woman.

    She was a young elfin girl of maybe fifteen high suns. Lethelin had spotted her as she waited through the rubes, who won just enough to keep the crowd interested, but not so much that the man was losing more than he was taking in. No one had wagered more than a crown so far, though. Then the girl made her move.

    ¡°I want to double my money!¡± she said enthusiastically.

    This got some chuckles from the gathered audience to see someone so young being so brazen.

    ¡°Hey there, girl. Don¡¯t you think you¡¯re a little young to be playing at games like this? Where¡¯s your mother?¡±

    His eyes never left the pretty challenger, and his hands never stopped their rhythmic motion. Click-click-click-click.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got coin, that¡¯s all that matters!¡± the girl shot back. ¡°Are you afraid to lose to someone so young, and a girl no less?¡±

    The crowd made some mumbles of respect at her feisty nature and looked to see what the man would do.

    Click-click-click-click, his hands never stopping. He looked annoyed but then shrugged.

    ¡°As you like it, young miss. But don¡¯t be sending your father to me after he finds out I¡¯ve taken all his hard-earned coin.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d best not go crying to my father that I cheated when I walk away with your purse!¡±

    The man grinned and looked at the audience.

    ¡°She¡¯s got fire, this one. I like it. A fair bit braver than all you lot, it seems. She went right for the dancer.¡± He looked back to the girl. ¡°Very well, young miss, step forward and place your wealth, perhaps the dancer will reward you with more coin, a long life, and health!¡±

    Click-click-click-click.

    The girl stepped up to the table, every inch the cocky young teenager, and placed five crowns down in the center. The crowd gasped. Even the hawker seemed to lose his rhythm at the sight of such a large amount. Then he ¡°remembered¡± himself and cleared his throat.

    ¡°Five crowns this child of fortune has placed at my feet. Can she best me, shall I win? I think we are all in for a treat.¡±

    The man pulled one card from the dancing trio and flipped it over to reveal a woman dancing with two moons at her back.

    ¡°Here she is, the beloved of the gods, the picture of grace. Watch as she dances, from place to place.¡±

    He slid the card effortlessly back into the shuffle, and the speed picked up considerably.

    Clickclickclickclick.

    ¡°She dances here¨C¡± he flipped up the card revealing its location, then flipped it almost immediately and moved it back into the shuffle, his fingers a near blur. ¡°She dances there,¡± he flipped it up once more and, even though Lethelin knew what to look for, she found she¡¯d been wrong. Like a flash, it was back into the shuffle. ¡°Not bound by death, she dances anywhere!¡±

    Clickclickclickclick.

    His fingers flowed, never missing a slide, the silver at his waist and the gold at his wrists sparkled, and despite herself Lethelin found herself being lulled by his movements.

    Then, he stopped so suddenly that the crowd gasped. All three cards were laid in a perfect row.

    ¡°We come to it at last, my young maiden, how quickly the time hath passed. Decisions to make, coin to take! Where does she rest, the dancer most fair, make your choice, if you dare¡­¡±

    With a flourish he spread his hands and stepped back from the table. Lethelin watched her face carefully. The girl was an excellent actress and if Lethelin didn¡¯t know the game so well, she would have doubted her own instincts. Somehow, she¡¯d actually managed to make herself sweat!

    ¡°Umm¡­¡±

    ¡°The hour grows late, Stollar makes his way across the sky,¡± the man taunted. ¡°Delay too long, and thy coin shall in my pockets lie.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t move that fast with the other people!¡± the girl complained.

    ¡°This is the game as it is played, and warnings did I give before the bet was made.¡±

    He gave her a predatory grin.

    ¡°Cry not foul at your lack of ability,¡± he continued. ¡°Accept your defeat with a smile and some dignity.¡±

    ¡°Oh, be quiet!¡± the girl snapped at him. ¡°I can do this.¡±

    The man gave her a bow and closed his mouth.

    The girl began counting things off under her breath and pointing at different cards as she did so. This went on for several seconds, and then a smile came over her face.

    ¡°Aha!¡± The man shouted. ¡°The young miss has made her choice. Silence now as we await youth¡¯s voice!¡±

    With deliberate slowness, the girl extended one manicured finger and touched the card to her right.

    ¡°I believe I am owed a dance.¡±

    The hustler hesitated. The crowd was holding their collective breath.

    ¡°Ah¡­ Um¡­ Are you sure, young miss? You only get one chance. Think carefully now. That is a lot of coin you have wagered.¡±

    ¡°No clever rhymes, oh gentle master? Why, could it be that, while your hands were fast, my eyes were faster?¡±

    That drew a hearty chuckle from the crowd.

    ¡°Come on, flip the card,¡± one man called out. ¡°Let¡¯s see if she¡¯s won.¡±

    Several people voiced their agreement.

    The hustler glanced up nervously and cleared his throat.

    ¡°But of course!¡± he called out, trying to keep his control of the crowd. ¡°I only wanted to give the young miss one last chance.¡±

    Then, as if it pained him to do so, he flipped over the card that she had chosen. The dancer stared up at them from the table and the crowd cheered.

    Several people patted the girl as she calmly picked up the coins and extended her hand to await her five new crowns.

    The man shook his head, plucked them from some hidden pocket, and set them one at a time in her palm.

    ¡°Good day!¡± she said lightly, and then skipped off with her newfound wealth.

    The effect was immediate. Several people stepped forward, much more confident now that, if a young girl could best the dealer, they could as well. The hustler, while he played at being annoyed at such a huge loss, seemed to take it in stride and was back to working the crowd once more. Even Lethelin took a turn to help herself fit in and ¡°lost¡± three silver to the man.

    After that, she stayed near the periphery watching and, by her count, he was up twenty crowns over the next half hour as people kept trying to double their money. She noticed that no one was ever able to double their money if they bet more than two gold crowns. In this way, he was able to keep his losses minimal while he kept his profits high. People who won one crown would often try to double it again.

    Lethelin was beginning to lose patience when the man finally called that he was done for the day, but that he would be back again tomorrow. As the last handful of customers left the area, he began packing up and could no longer hide his smile.

    ¡°Was it your Uncle Lapiet that taught you to handle cards that way?¡± Lethelin asked to the man¡¯s back as he was bent over folding up his table.

    The man jerked at the question, but he recovered quickly, turning around as if nothing was amiss, giving her a more thorough once over.

    ¡°It was,¡± he said at last, before setting about removing his flashy jewelry. ¡°But he¡¯s been dead these last two years. Died when Milandris and his soldiers came.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry to hear that,¡± Lethelin said. ¡°I had wished to see him now that I¡¯ve finally been able to visit the city.¡±

    ¡°And where is it that you¡¯ve come in from. It must be far if you¡¯d not heard of his passing.¡±

    ¡°From the coast. Varset. Your uncle and my uncle were old friends.¡±

    ¡°Eh, is that so?¡± he said with a cautious grin. ¡°Well, more¡¯s the pity.¡±

    ¡°Who is it that teaches you the cards these days?¡±

    ¡°Oh, Lapiet wasn¡¯t my only uncle. I¡¯ve others. The best at the cards is my Uncle Hamiren.¡±

    ¡°This might work out well, then. I brought some gifts for Uncle Lapiet. Three gifts, in fact. Maybe, in honor of his unfortunate demise, I can offer them to your Uncle Hamiren, instead.¡±

    ¡°Gifts from Varset?¡± he arched an eyebrow. ¡°They must be valuable for you to have carried them such a distance.¡±

    Lethelin nodded.

    ¡°Oh, they are indeed. I am confident that your uncle would want them. Precious things he wouldn¡¯t find anywhere else in Awenor.¡±

    ¡°Is that so?¡±

    ¡°Do you have some place we might discuss it? They are somewhat delicate and I wouldn¡¯t want unkind ears to overhear the details.¡±

    ¡°That can be arranged. But your name, young miss, if you please.¡±

    ¡°Nelitha. And you?

    ¡°Call me Jonan,¡± he said and touched his fingers to his heart and head.

    Lethelin returned the greeting.

    ¡°Follow me, Nelitha. I¡¯ve a place where we can chat about your gifts.¡±

    He picked up his bag and started walking toward the street and Lethelin stepped up beside him.

    ¡°Oh, and do invite your cousin. I¡¯d love to chat with her as well.¡±

    Jonan grinned at her and chuckled.

    ¡°Those pretty green eyes are sharp,¡± he said.

    ¡°Not as sharp as my blade. And I¡¯d hate to have to use it if your cousin got the wrong idea and tried to sneak up behind me.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough.¡±

    He stopped, turned and looked at an alley just across from the park he¡¯d been working in and gave a nod. A moment later, the girl emerged from the shadows who had won the five coins earlier. Only she looked completely different. Instead of long blond hair, she now had short brown hair, and her clothes were much shabbier. Her face had also been cleaned of the bit of color she¡¯d applied for her performance. She approached and eyed Lethelin warily.

    ¡°Lenna, this is Nelitha. She¡¯s people. Nelitha, this is Lenna. She aspires to be people one day.¡±

    The girl¡¯s expression went from guarded to curious.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s blessings upon you, Mistress Nelitha,¡± she said and touched her heart and head.

    ¡°And you as well. That was a fine performance earlier.¡±

    ¡°Thank you!¡± the girl gushed. ¡°I¡¯ve been practicing every day.¡±

    ¡°We can discuss that later,¡± Jonan said, for the first time sounding a little annoyed. ¡°I¡¯d like to get us off the street, if you don¡¯t mind. I¡¯ve heavy pockets.¡±

    Lethelin nodded, as did Lenna, and the three of them set off.

 Chapter 76

    Up ahead in the darkness of the tunnel, the torch light of their guide illuminated an ancient-looking iron gate set into a thick stone wall that looked even older. Mitchell blinked to clear his eyes of what he hoped was just water that was dripping constantly from the rough stone ceiling and coughed as he caught a breath of the smoke coming from the torch carried by their guide.

    ¡°This is it,¡± the young man named Jonan said, as he looked back at his charges.

    ¡°How many passages like this are there into the city?¡± Allora asked as her violet eyes took in the sight before them.

    ¡°Just this one,¡± Jonan replied with a grin.

    ¡°Just the one?¡± Allora said, her disbelief obvious.

    ¡°You don¡¯t really expect him to tell you the other ones, do you?¡± Lethelin said, rolling her eyes.

    Mitchell also shook his head a bit and smiled. Allora, for all her talents and knowledge, seemed completely naive about how criminal activity was conducted.

    The knight looked from Lethelin to Jonan and back again. Rather than argue, she chose to keep her mouth shut.

    ¡°Where will this take us?¡± Mitchell asked. The cart with their crate of deadly cargo that he had been pulling behind him for the last hour and a half was starting to make his shoulders ache. He could feel the knots forming already.

    ¡°This lone passage,¡± he said with extra emphasis and a wink to Allora, ¡°cuts under the outer wall near the Opal gate and into the Dregs.¡±

    ¡°The Dregs?¡± Mitchell interrupted.

    ¡°Old part of the city,¡± Jonan said.

    You¡¯ll be coming out in an old warehouse that¡¯s rarely used these days. The gang that used to control it ran into a bit of trouble a little while back and no one has stepped up to claim it just yet. Officially, at any rate.¡±

    ¡°How much farther?¡± Mitchell asked.

    ¡°Maybe another thirty minutes once we¡¯re through the gate,¡± he told Mitchell as he produced a large key from inside his pocket and forced the old lock open. ¡°We¡¯d move faster but your cart will make it harder to navigate some of the twisting passages. Are you sure it¡¯s necessary?¡±

    Mitchell nodded and set it down briefly to work his shoulders and then picked it back up to follow the others through the entrance.

    Lethelin had returned just before sundown and informed them that she¡¯d made contact and had instructions on where to meet the man who would see them into the city. Compared to the work of convincing Vras to get into the crate, making contact had been the easy part.

    The shadow cat hadn¡¯t gotten violent exactly, but the ordeal of calming him down had maybe been the first real time where he thought Vras might attack him. The creature had scared him plenty and his body seemed to have an instinctive response to hearing him growl a warning, but Mitchell never really felt like his companion would hurt him. Still, when Mitchell had told him he needed to get into the box and let them close the lid on him, he thought the animal was going to lunge for his throat.

    The shadow cat had immediately lowered itself to the ground, ears flat, fangs bared, and tentacles open. Allora had stepped back like she was spring loaded and it was only a quick command from Mitchell that stopped her from drawing her blade.

    ¡°Vras, this is how we are going to get you into the two-leg city. I don¡¯t want to leave you out here alone, I need you in there with me, but you can¡¯t be seen.¡±

    ¡°I am gratha!¡± he snarled. ¡°I am only seen if I want to be seen!¡±

    ¡°In the forest, yes. In the wilds,¡± Mitchell said in as calm a voice as he could. ¡°But this is a city. There are two-legs beyond counting and any one of them would scream and raise the alarm if they saw you. If that happens, we might fail. There will be too many two-leg enemies and you won¡¯t be able to protect me.¡±

    This gave the animal pause. Mitchell knew that Vras considered it his job to protect him but protecting him from what was still vague. Vras only ever said it was for a great hunt, but when asked if that was what they were doing now, the shadow cat seemed to feel it was not, that the great hunt was later.

    Mitchell went on to demonstrate that the lid would not be secured, that Vras could escape if he needed to, but that he should only do so if there were sounds of battle. They¡¯d also taken the liberty of drilling several small holes into the bottom and a few around the top to ensure he had plenty of air.

    Finally, with an unceasing growl of anger and fear¡ªalthough Mitchell would never let Vras know he¡¯d heard that¡ªthe shadow cat went into the crate. He tested the lid immediately and saw that he could push it open with his head without any difficulty. This mollified him somewhat, but his hackles were still raised as the lid settled into place once more. Mitchell felt guilty but there really was no other way.

    Up ahead Mitchell watched as their guide, Jonan, followed signs apparently only he could see and understand. His pace was steady and confident. Mitchell found his quick smile and easy confidence a little slimy, if he was being honest. His hands were a little too smooth, his eyes a little too observant. He reminded Mitchell of some sort of smooth-talking salesman that was always working an angle, always hustling someone. Lethelin had said he was the man who could get them inside, though and that he was with the guild, so they had little choice but to follow.

    After several more minutes moving through dank passages, stepping over pools of who knows what, and choking on the stench of things Mitchell would rather not imagine, Jonan suddenly stopped at a black section of stone wall that was indistinguishable from all the other damp, algae-covered stone walls they¡¯d passed over the last half hour or so. With a gloved hand he scraped away some of the slimy growth and located a small hole in the stone. He blew on it to clear away any vestiges plant life that might linger, and then Mitchell saw the glitter of a small gemstone being placed into the newly-cleared hole. With his ungloved hand, he touched the stone and immediately something inside the wall clicked. The wall slid into a recess and then opened to the right revealing a dark room on the other side.

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°This is it,¡± he said, a little too enthusiastically.

    Allora peered in, her eyes just as good as Mitchell¡¯s in the gloom and, not finding anything she disagreed with, stepped inside. Lethelin followed, and then Mitchell brought up the rear, dragging the cart over the lip, and then Jonan stepped inside behind them, popping out the stone as he did so. Once it was free, the wall began grinding closed and, in just a couple of seconds, had resealed itself. As Mitchell turned to examine the wall, he once again could find no sign that anything was out of place. There weren¡¯t even scuff marks on the floor.

    The room they now found themselves in was dusty and a little bit rank. There were empty shelves on the wall, almost all either listing or missing pieces. A few odd bits of furniture were also scattered about with some broken glassware, rusted out tools, and a few barrels with missing staves. The dust of years was over everything. No one had been down here in quite some time. On the far side of the room were a set of steep rickety wooden stairs that led up about three or four meters to a door that Mitchell could just make out at the top.

    ¡°That¡¯s the warehouse up there,¡± Jonan said, noticing Mitchell¡¯s focus while he set the half-burned torch into a rusted out sconce bolted into the wall. ¡°The old gang that ran it used it for smuggling, mostly. Anything of value was cleaned out and now it¡¯s empty. But there¡¯s space aplenty for you all to rest up.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Jonan,¡± Lethelin said.

    ¡°Least I could do for someone that was friends with my old uncle,¡± he told her with a slight bow. ¡°And my other uncle is looking forward to meeting you.¡±

    ¡°You knew his uncle?¡± Mitchell said, looking at her curiously.

    ¡°In a manner of speaking,¡± she said in that tone she had of saying she wouldn¡¯t say any more about it. Focusing her attention back on Jonan, she added, ¡°I will contact you as soon as I can to arrange a meeting with him.¡±

    ¡°About that,¡± Jonan said slowly. ¡°I actually expect he¡¯ll be along shortly. Until then, just sit tight. The building is being watched, so they¡¯ll know if you leave. Uncle wouldn¡¯t like that.¡±

    ¡°Lethelin, what is this?¡± Allora said, her voice growing hard.

    Ignoring Allora, Lethelin turned to Jonan.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t part of our deal. I said we would meet him when we could make arrangements.¡±

    Jonan gave her that too-quick smile, showing a lot of teeth.

    ¡°Don¡¯t feed me to the dragon, here, m¡¯lady. I¡¯m just the messenger,¡± he said, spreading his hands in supplication. ¡°I relayed your wishes to my uncle but he had other ideas. He¡¯s eager to see the gifts you brought him.¡±

    Allora¡¯s sword was out in a flash and at the man¡¯s throat. For all his oily speed, Mitchell thought even he looked startled by how fast she had moved.

    Jonan froze and his grin faltered. He swallowed and Mitchell saw the tip of Allora¡¯s blade nick his Adam¡¯s apple, causing the man to jerk at the sharp sensation. Mitchell knew that feeling. It wasn¡¯t pleasant.

    ¡°We have no intention of staying here to wait for your uncle, thief!¡± Allora hissed. ¡°If you wish to see the sun again, you will let us leave unmolested.¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­¡± Jonan said, his voice trembling but his body stone still. ¡°My uncle thought that might be the case. The people watching the building expect me to come out alone. If I don¡¯t¡­¡±

    He let the word hang there and Lethelin cursed at him.

    ¡°You lying pile of jivi shit! Is this how the guild behaves in Lorivin? If word gets back to my uncle, he will not be pleased. You risk open conflict.¡±

    That put some steel in the man¡¯s spine.

    ¡°You¡¯re in the city, aren¡¯t you?¡± Jonan shot back. ¡°I kept my word. Safe and unseen! But he¡¯s got questions and people who don¡¯t answer them to his liking have a way of disappearing. Answer his questions and I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Mitchell walked up to the man. He placed a finger on Allora¡¯s sword and, with a gentle push, she lowered it. Then Mitchell stepped in front of him and he practically loomed.

    Jonan wasn¡¯t tall, maybe only 5¡¯ 9¡± or so, and Mitchell had several inches on him. Not to mention being significantly more muscular. This close, even in the dark, Mitchell could see the beads of sweat dripping down from his dark, slicked back hair.

    ¡°Who is your uncle?¡± Mitchell said, his voice low and dangerous.

    ¡°Edrokii Sereg,¡± Jonan said.

    ¡°Sereg?¡± Allora asked.

    ¡°You know him?¡± Mitchell half turned to ask her.

    ¡°No, but the name is Waivian. It means blade or knife.¡±

    ¡°What is edrokii?¡± Mitchell asked, since it had the feel of a title.

    ¡°That I am not sure,¡± Allora told him, her voice thoughtful. ¡°It sounds like the old draconic word for slaver, ¡®edirokin¡¯.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s what we call a gang boss who¡¯s gotten enough power to lay claim to the title,¡± Lethelin offered. ¡°Generally, they have claimed a portion of a district and run their operations from there.  They can have anywhere from twenty to a hundred people working for them. Maybe more in Lorivin.¡±

    Mitchell turned back to the trembling Jonan.

    ¡°Even if you kept your word, Jonan, you brought us here under false pretenses. I could kill you or have you killed in any number of ways. Convince me not to.¡±

    ¡°You¡­ You would be making a powerful enemy,¡± Jonan said in a rush. ¡°Edrokii Sereg would come after you. I¡¯m protected. I¡¯m in the guild! Killing me without a declaration would put you at odds with every edrokii in the city!¡±

    Mitchell glanced at Lethelin.

    ¡°Is this true?¡±

    The thief grimaced.

    ¡°Yes. I¡¯m in the guild and if we killed him that would break open a net full of razor fish all over our deck. That¡¯s trouble we don¡¯t want.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right!¡± Jonan said. ¡°Trouble you don¡¯t want!¡±

    Mitchell found he was tired of the man¡¯s sniveling. They¡¯d come too far and too much was at stake to tolerate being double-crossed this close to the goal. His hand shot forward and grabbed the shorter man by the collar of his purple shirt and shoved him against the wall, then lifted him up bodily until his feet were dangling several inches off the ground.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s fucking taint!¡± Jonan squealed as his hands clutched Mitchell¡¯s wrist and his legs kicked over open air.

    ¡°Whatever happens with your uncle, Jonan, I want you to know that you¡¯ve made an enemy today. You could have been honest with us, but you weren¡¯t. If we cross paths again and I catch you lying a second time, being in the guild won¡¯t save you. Do you understand?¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡± Jonan said, his voice straining as he began to choke on the fabric of the shirt closing around his neck.

    ¡°Good. Now go tell your uncle we¡¯re waiting.¡±

    Mitchell released him, and he fell to the floor gasping. Once he¡¯d caught his breath, he stood and, without another word, bolted for the stairs. He threw open the door at the top and they heard his footsteps echo across what sounded like a large room above, and then another door opened and closed.

    Mitchell sighed.

    ¡°It would have been nice for one thing to go easy,¡± he said to the ladies.

    ¡°It would have,¡± Allora agreed.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Lethelin said, her face chagrined. ¡°The guild has a way of operating that keeps the peace between the different gangs. Mostly. If this were Varset it never would have went down this way. If I get a chance to get word back to the edrokii in my city, there will be consequences.¡±

    ¡°Is that normally a bad thing?¡± Mitchell asked her as he put his arm around here. She slumped into him. ¡°Like do they worry about it?¡±

    ¡°It can be. There have been secret wars before between edrokii in different cities, and even between different nations. It¡¯s almost always done in the shadows, with assassinations, arson, small skirmishes that don¡¯t usually draw much attention. But it can get bloody and go on for years. Jonan and this Edrokii Sereg are taking a pretty big risk.¡±

    ¡°Why would he do that?¡± Allora asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Lethelin answered. ¡°I didn¡¯t have time to try and get a sense of what was going on in the city. We¡¯re on a schedule, after all.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll just have to deal with him when he gets here,¡± Mitchell told them.

    ¡°His name is curious,¡± Allora said.

    ¡°Why?¡± Mitchell asked as he went over to let Vras out of the crate.

    ¡°Waivian is not a common language. Few know it. I would not expect a thief or gang boss, or whatever he is, to know it.¡±

    Lethelin shrugged.

    ¡°It¡¯s pretty common for an Edrokii to pick some name they think makes them sound more sinister or imposing,¡± she said.

    Mitchell lifted the lid and Vras bounded out and began to scout the room. He sneezed several times at all the dust.

    ¡°I guess we should head upstairs and see what plans we can make before our host arrives,¡± Mitchell said.

    The girls agreed and they made their way up to the main floor of the abandoned warehouse. To everyone¡¯s surprise, the rickety steps held them.

 Chapter 77

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    The warehouse at the top of the stairs looked like it was being held up more by thoughts and prayers than structural integrity. Beams sagged, holes dotted the roof, rotted planks covered the floor, and the smell of urine was everywhere.

    ¡°Your friends really put us up in a nice spot,¡± Mitchell told Lethelin, but gave her a grin to let her know his sarcasm was playful, not angry. She chose not to respond, just huffed and kicked some bit of wood across the floor and scowled. Her hand was inside her cloak and that usually meant she was fiddling with Mira¡¯s handle, which she often did when she was frustrated. Given how she was feeling responsible for them being trapped here, he could understand why she was feeling a little stabby.

    The room was longer than it was wide. At one end there was a large set of ramshackle double doors that looked big enough to fit a good-sized wagon through, and indeed, Mitchell could make out ancient grooves in the stone floor in front of the doors where generations of vehicles would have been brought in and out. There was an office area off to the right with one wall collapsed and the ceiling sagging precariously. A stiff breeze looked like it would be enough to send it caving in.

    Maybe twenty feet up, some space that had been built creating a sort of makeshift second floor but the steps leading to it had crumbled long ago, the remnants of which were now in a pile of rotted timber and planks on the floor. Vras had quickly ascended the wooden beams and was now prowling around up top. Mitchell trusted he would report back if he found anything of interest. Occasionally there was the sound of wood creaking as the cat made its way across the second level.

    ¡°Tell me about the Dregs,¡± Mitchell said to Allora as they circled their cage.

    ¡°It is as Jonan said,¡± she replied. ¡°One of the oldest parts of the city near the original wall. It was an area not well-spoken of with only the roughest sorts of people. Many taverns and brothels reside within and attract mostly a criminal element.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like my kind of people,¡± Lethelin chimed in with a small grin.

    ¡°Are there lots of places to hide?¡±

    ¡°Almost certainly,¡± Allora nodded. ¡°Many places like this, and given what I saw below, who knows how many warrens cut under the streets. They could lead anywhere. Jonan and this Edrokii Sereg had ample time to prepare, so I do not doubt that there are agents watching the building. If we leave they might be under orders to attack us, or keep us contained. It is impossible to know.¡±

    ¡°Would killing them cause the same sort of trouble as killing Jonan did?¡± Mitchell asked. Then he felt somewhat shocked at even asking the question. How quickly he had become accustomed to the notion of violence in this new world. But he shoved that thought aside to deal with later.

    ¡°It might,¡± Lethelin said. ¡°It would be a matter of debate. So far, we have not been harmed, we¡¯re merely being held. If he tries to attack us first, then the drake¡¯s out of the egg, and ¨C since we have not attacked any interests of his ¨C we would be free to retaliate in kind. But if we attack him on his territory first, assuming we survived, I¡¯m not sure that the other edrokii in the city would stay out of it. They take threats to their authority seriously.¡±

    Mitchell expelled a breath through his nose.

    ¡°So it comes back to waiting to find out what he wants.¡±

    ¡°Unfortunately,¡± Lethelin said and slumped a little. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Mitchell. This is my fault.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not,¡± he told her. ¡°You did what you said you could do. As far as I can tell, we¡¯re in the city, slipped in right under the noses of the guards, and we''ve even got Vras with us. It¡¯s the other side that didn¡¯t keep the deal. And, if I¡¯m understanding you correctly, they are walking very close to a line that would break the rules of their society or whatever this is.¡±

    ¡°There is something I am confused about,¡± Allora broke in. ¡°What is to stop this Sereg from just killing us? No one in Varset knows you are here, you are not acting under any sort of orders from your¡­¡± Allora paused as she worked to say the distasteful word, ¡°edrokii. What repercussions could there be for him?¡±

    ¡°Word would get out,¡± Lethelin explained, ¡°that he¡¯d killed someone in the guild who had not broken the accords. He would lose respect, even among his own gang and the other edrokii would let it be known that he wasn¡¯t worthy of the title. Eventually, people would start coming for him, seeking to supplant him. Maybe even from within his own organization.¡±

    ¡°Actual honor among thieves,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°Small comfort, I guess.¡±

    Vras came padding up then and bumped Mitchell¡¯s thigh.

    ¡°There are many two legs prowling outside. Some have magic.¡±

    Mitchell relayed the information.

    ¡°Can he say how many?¡± Lethelin asked.

    ¡°Numbers are hard for him, but probably more than we could safely deal with.¡±

    ¡°I could slip out and take care of them. Some of them, at least,¡± Lethelin offered, perhaps hoping to make amends for getting them stuck here.

    ¡°No,¡± Mitchell mused. ¡°Given what you said, fighting our way out is a last resort. We already have the entire city watch, or military or whatever is running things in this city, gunning for us. We don¡¯t need to add all the gangs as well. Let¡¯s not borrow trouble.¡±

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Allora said. ¡°I think our original plan of waiting is our best choice at this time.¡±

    ¡°Could they be listening in on our conversation?¡± Mitchell suddenly asked.

    ¡°It is possible, yes. There are runes which can be crafted to pick up sounds, as well as items that can be created to transmit it over distances. We should be careful of our words.¡±

    Magical items or runes, Mitchell thought. Something was tickling his memory. Then it clicked.

    ¡°I have something!¡±

    He reached into his bag and pulled out his spell book, flipping to the divination section until he found the first circle spell he wanted.

    ¡°This one,¡± he said as he turned the book around to show it to Allora. ¡°Detect Magic. Would it tell us if there were magical items or runes in here?¡±

    ¡°It would, indeed,¡± Allora said with a smile. ¡°I find it very sexy when you are clever, my lord.¡±

    She blew him a kiss.

    ¡°Heh. I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡±

    ¡°If you two are getting a room, I want to come, too,¡± Lethelin said. ¡°Don¡¯t be greedy.¡±

    Allora and Mitchell both chuckled.

    ¡°You know,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°I rather like that we can be in this high stress situation but still be a little flirty. Let¡¯s not lose that.¡±

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    ¡°Fine with me, Captain Tight Pants!¡± Lethelin said with a grin, and swatted him on the ass.

    ¡°Okay, let me settle in and try to learn this. I haven¡¯t had much practice with divination, only the speak-with-creatures spell I use for Vras. So the rune style is still a little unfamiliar.¡±

    Mitchell sat down on the filthy floor and folded his legs to study the book. Vras returned to the second floor to keep watch, and Lethelin and Allora took up flanking positions and walked in circles around the perimeter, hoping to catch any signs that their ¡°host¡± was going to make an appearance.

    Divination was difficult for Mitchell to get his mind around. The runes always seemed indistinct when he looked at them directly. As such, it was harder for him to keep the images clear in his mind when he tried to channel into them. Initially he thought it was something particular to the way magic worked here, but after spending so much time with the Evocation and Conjuration schools, he knew now that such was not the case. Divination definitely had a distinct flavor to it.

    It took him nearly a half an hour just to get the rune firm in his mind before he risked channeling mana through it, and those first several attempts saw the rune just¡­ dissolve, like cotton candy in water. A rune losing cohesion with Evocation and Conjuration spells was much more jarring. Evocation was akin to an electrical shock. But this one merely evaporated. There was a mild sense of feedback as the accumulated mana flowed back into his body, but it wasn¡¯t painful. He thought maybe a higher circle wouldn¡¯t be as gentle, but so far, this one was.

    Finally, though, the rune held, and he was able to fill it with mana and cast it. Immediately, the colors washed out of his vision. It was already dark in the warehouse, with only moonlight coming through the high windows for illumination, but what color there was became shades of black and gray. Except for Allora and Lethelin. Both of them glowed with magical energy. Well, their items did, anyway. Allora¡¯s sword was a lighthouse beacon in the muted vision of the spell, nearly blinding him with its magical power. The stones in her krisa were also glimmering magical energy, even though she wasn¡¯t casting anything, and the electrum it was made of glinted softly, as well. Mitchell supposed it was residual magic from being used so frequently. When he checked his sevith, he found the same thing for the stones he wasn¡¯t using, and the star sapphire he was channeling the divination mana through was a tiny sun. Looking up at Lethelin, he saw her cloak, which was enchanted, gave off a warm golden light, almost like the soft yellow of a child¡¯s nightlight.

    ¡°It¡¯s working,¡± Mitchell called out, and even that little break caused him to nearly lose focus and drop the spell. He quickly firmed it back in his mind and then noticed the slight mana drain as he maintained it. This one wasn¡¯t a one-and-done, it seemed. He needed to channel continuously to maintain it. Slowly he got to his feet and began to prowl around the room, looking for signs of magic.

    ¡°Do you see anything?¡± Lethelin asked.

    ¡°So far,¡± Mitchell answered slowly, trying not to lose focus, ¡°besides you two, nothing.¡±

    He began making a circle around the grayed-out space, similar to the path that Lethelin and Allora had been walking, trying to examine his surroundings while also holding onto the spell. Nothing caught his attention until he got near the collapsing office. There, he detected a faint glow coming from between some cracks in the flooring. He relayed the information to the girls who had been following a few steps behind him.

    ¡°Should we have a look,¡± Lethelin asked as Mitchell dropped the spell.

    ¡°Might as well,¡± he told her. ¡°Seems an odd place to put something, but it is magical, whatever it is.¡±

    ¡°Let me squeeze in,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m smaller than the two of you.¡±

    She handed her bow off to Allora, and Mitchell dropped the detection spell, quickly casting a magelight into the space so the thief could see what she was doing. She nodded her thanks and turned sideways, trying to slip between the beams without touching anything. Mitchell guided her to where the light had been coming from, and she knelt down and started poking at the gaps in the floor board with Mira.

    ¡°No obvious trap door,¡± she called back. I¡¯m going to try and pry up the floor boards.¡±

    The wood was rotted and came away with surprising ease. After just a few moments, she had created an uneven hole in the floor, about three feet by four feet and she peered into the darkness.

    ¡°It¡¯s an old safe,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone¡¯s using this to listen in. I can see etching on the metal. It¡¯s a shock ward, if I had to guess.¡±

    ¡°You do not use magic,¡± Allora told her. ¡°How would you know what it is?¡±

    ¡°I know a booby trap when I see one,¡± she retorted. Mitchell could hear the eye roll in her voice. ¡°I¡¯ve tripped enough of them, and this one looks like a shock ward. Try to open the safe and it will fry you. Might be a little shock, might be strong enough to kill.¡±

    ¡°Can you disarm it?¡± Mitchell asked her.

    ¡°I think so. This one is pretty basic. I¡¯ve seen some complex enough, with double and triple redundancies worked into the runes, that you would need a caster to disarm it. But this one is fairly crude. Can you get my pack?¡±

    Allora sniffed, but went over to where they had set their packs down. A moment later she was handing it through the boards and Lethelin took it up, then began digging around in one the outer pockets. She quickly found what she was looking for. It was a set of lock picking tools as near Mitchell could tell. She opened it up and he could make out a number of long instruments of various design, from needle thin, to about a centimeter in thickness, as well as what looked like files and other things that he couldn¡¯t guess at. The thing she ultimately extracted from the kit looked to be about as long as his hand and about as thick as her pinky finger. It had a gemstone at each end, secured by a delicate latticework cage. She spun it around, examining each end and then selected one before tugging at the tool which extended it to nearly as long as her forearm. Then, gemstone point leading, she stuck it down into the hole and Mitchell saw her inch it forward very carefully.

    ¡°Almost¡­¡± she said softly, and then there was a small flash and everyone jumped. ¡°Gotcha!¡± she cried out in triumph.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Allora yelled as she blinked to clear her vision. She sounded surprisingly worried, which made Mitchell smile to himself.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± the thief said as she pulled the tool up out of the hole. The gemstone at the end was glowing now. ¡°It was a small one, as I said. Didn¡¯t even fill up my extractor. Give me a minute and I¡¯ll have the safe open.¡± She eyed it closely. ¡°Actually, less than that. This thing is shit.¡±

    She pulled out some other device from her kit and unwound a length of wire, the ends of which were attached two small, peanut-sized objects. Then, taking her extractor, she touched the glowing end to each one, and they began to illuminate softly in turn, while the light from the gemstone on the extractor dimmed slightly. She placed one of the ends in her ear, and stuck her other hand down into the hole. A moment later, Mitchell could hear the distinct clicking sound of a safe dial that began turning.

    ¡°Only three,¡± she mumbled to herself as the grating sound of unoiled gears filled the quiet space. ¡°No wonder these boys got run out of business.¡±

    As promised, less than a minute later, there was a click and the squeal of rusted hinges as she pried the door open with a grunt.

    ¡°Oh,¡± she said at last. ¡°I call first bite!¡± she said then, and looked at the pair of them with an excited grin. ¡°I did get it open, after all.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± Allora asked with undisguised impatience. Mitchell agreed with the sentiment, but held his tongue.

    Lethelin began to pull up things from the hole in the floor and one of the bags clinked in a very familiar way. There was also the rustle of paper, and the clinking of bottles.

    Once she¡¯d gotten everything out, she packed up her tools, handed the bag off to Mitchell and made two trips to bring over the bottles and the bag of coin. Once done, she squeezed back through the beams and the three of them took their loot back to the center of the warehouse.

    ¡°These are health potions!¡± Allora said with awe in her voice as she examined two maroon flasks. Setting them down she picked up another one in a black flask. She cleared away the dust, looking for a label, but there was nothing. ¡°I do not know about this one,¡± she admitted and began to examine the fourth bottle. This one was in a white flask, and had a black stopper in it, wrapped with wire. It also had no label.

    ¡°I am afraid I cannot identify the other ones,¡± she said, sounding defeated. ¡°We will need an alchemist. But the two health potions are very valuable.¡±

    ¡°Are those hard to get?¡±

    ¡°Somewhat, yes. And expensive. I haven¡¯t had access to them since the city fell. There is a good supply in the armory of the Knights, but those are behind the shield now.¡±

    ¡°I claim the white one,¡± Lethelin said, plucking it deftly from Allora¡¯s hand.

    ¡°You do not even know what it is!¡± Allora said.

    ¡°Don¡¯t care, whatever it is, I want it.¡±

    It was Allora¡¯s turn to roll her eyes then. ¡°Fine, take it.¡±

    Mitchell was peering into the sack of coin.

    ¡°There¡¯s a good amount here,¡± he said. "Maybe close to a hundred crowns."

    Lethelin and Allora¡¯s eyes both went wide.

    ¡°Whatever they were smuggling through here must have been profitable,¡± Lethelin said appreciatively. ¡°Ours now.¡±

    ¡°Ours now,¡± he repeated, and pulled her in for a kiss. ¡°Great job!¡±

    ¡°Thank you, sir!¡± she said playfully and rubbed her nose against his.

    ¡°I think¨C¡±

    But whatever Allora was about to say was cut off as Vras gave a hiss from up above.

    Mitchell turned to find him gazing down over the lip of the second floor.

    ¡°Two legs come.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Stay out of sight, Vras. Only show yourself if there is combat.¡±

    The shadow cat flicked his ears and retreated back into the darkness, quiet as a shark beneath the waves.

    ¡°I think our host has arrived,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°Let¡¯s pack this up and get ready.¡±

 Chapter 78

    The three of them stood in the center of the crumbling warehouse facing the large double-doors, with Mitchell out front between the two girls ¨C Allora on his right and Lethelin on his left. Her bow was in hand and Allora¡¯s sword was out, as was Mitchell¡¯s. There wasn¡¯t likely to be an attack, at least not right away, but Mitchell wasn¡¯t about to be caught unawares. He sensed more than heard Vras in the rafters, skulking about, and that brought him immense comfort.

    In just a moment, the sound of voices came drifting through the rotting planks and crumbling stone and then the smaller door inset into the larger door on the right was forced open on rusted hinges, the screech of tortured metal shockingly loud in the quiet space. A child stepped in and a shimmering field immediately sprung into place around him and he braced as if expecting an attack. With his boosted vision he could see the youngster peering into the darkness beyond until his eyes locked onto Mitchell and the girls. He studied them and Mitchell studied him right back.

    It was then that Mitchell noticed he looked shockingly old for a child. As he paused to ponder, it clicked and he realized he was looking at a halfling, which made a lot more sense. He didn¡¯t want to think about the kind of person that would press a child into service and then make them first through the door.

    ¡°There gonna be a problem?¡± he asked, his voice gruff and gravelly.

    ¡°That depends on your boss, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Mitchell told him, his voice flat. ¡°He¡¯s the one keeping us in here.¡±

    ¡°Seems you got a little handsy with Jonan,¡± the short man said, his shield shimmering slightly in the gloom.

    ¡°Seems Jonan wasn¡¯t honest and he¡¯s lucky all I did was use my hands. I don¡¯t like being lied to.¡±

    The short man grunted.

    ¡°Sereg wants to talk. Answer his questions and you¡¯ll likely be free to go.¡±

    ¡°If he commits no violence against me and my companions, then I will do no violence against him. I give my word.¡±

    The caster stared at the three of them a few heartbeats more, then turned his head and spoke quietly through the door. It wasn¡¯t meant for Mitchell to hear, he was sure, but he could pick it up just fine.

    ¡°Three of them, sir. Bow and two blades, man and the elf are casters. Too dark to see how many stones he has on his sevith, but I can make out three on the elf¡¯s krisa. Nothing glimmering. What you want to do?¡±

    There was a pause, then Mitchell could make out another male¡¯s voice, just barely.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see what gifts the redhead brought me, then. Stick to the plan.¡±

    Mitchell saw the man nod, then he dropped the shield and stepped aside.

    In walked a man as tall as Mitchell, but leaner. His blonde hair was cropped short into almost a high-and tight style like Marines often wore. Short on the sides and spikey on the top. His face was smooth and he looked no older than Mitchell, but he also wasn¡¯t human. At least not fully. His eyes didn¡¯t have the same angularity that the other elves had, but his ears also weren¡¯t rounded like a human¡¯s either. Mitchell could see that he had blue eyes which were almost glass-like but didn¡¯t have that sort of glow present with the other elves. He was strikingly handsome. All-American good looks didn¡¯t quite cover it. He was that and more, some sort of alien beauty.

    His outfit was of a style that Mitchell hadn¡¯t seen before. It looked to be a strange hybrid of toga and breeches. The toga portion was tucked into the front of the breeches but the sides flared out like a cloak at his back. There was a long rapier at his left hip and a sevith on his left hand with three stones in it. The pants were black leather, and the toga blouse top was a deep blue. It looked to be made of sterner stuff than silk and Mitchell could make out runes etched into the fabric that glimmered ever so slightly in the darkness.

    The man, Sereg, Mitchell presumed. Stepped into the room and forward several steps and behind him came three more figures. A human woman, a male dwarf, and another human male. Once the little entourage was through, the halfling swung the door shut and then, as one, they all began to walk forward. The dwarf had a moderately-sized war hammer held in both hands, the woman had two scimitars, and the man sported a staff about a head taller than Mitchell. All of them wore armor of some fashion or another, the dwarf being the most heavily protected of the lot, with plates of steel over his bulky frame. The man with the staff was wearing robes but Mitchell could see there were plates sewn into it at different sections similar to his gambeson, and the woman was wearing form-hugging leather armor that didn¡¯t leave much to the imagination.

    Unlike the thugs they¡¯d fought back in Iletish, all of them were moving like they knew what they were doing. Mitchell was seasoned enough at this point to spot those who knew how to use their weapons and those who didn¡¯t. All of them carried their arms with confidence and walked with a casual grace that spoke of being seasoned fighters.

    Next to him, Allora sucked in a sharp breath. He turned to her and saw her eyes were wide and locked on the dazzlingly handsome man striding toward them with a dangerous air.

    ¡°What is it?¡± he whispered.

    Her eyes flicked to his and she wobbled her head ever so slightly but also stepped back and a little more behind him. A heavy weight began to settle into Mitchell¡¯s stomach as he turned to face their host, who was coming to a stop about two meters away.

    ¡°Well,¡± he said breaking the silence and looking over Mitchell and the girls. ¡°Three gifts indeed.¡±

    He drummed his fingers on the pommel of his sword and then fixed his gaze squarely on Mitchell and let the silence stretch. Mitchell knew this trick though. He kept his mouth closed and met the man¡¯s stare. It wasn¡¯t even that hard as Mitchell found his blue eyes were fascinating. Not human, but not elven, either. Not the flat dead eyes of a doll but still reflective like colored glass.

    After almost a full minute of the two groups eying each other up, the man Mitchell presumed to be their host grunted and spoke.

    ¡°I¡¯m Edrokii Sereg. I trust our sister from Varset has found the accommodations suitable?¡±

    He flicked his eyes to Lethelin and gave her a feral grin.

    ¡°She most certainly does not!¡± Lethelin snapped. ¡°You would do well to remember the accords, Edrokii Sereg.¡±

    ¡°I have broken no accords,¡± he said, his voice tight. ¡°But these are dangerous times we live in and I reserve the right to see what is moving through my city.¡±

    His accent reminded Mitchell a lot of the way Allora talked. Measured, precise and with intention. He wasn¡¯t just some street thug who rose up. He had an education, Mitchell surmised. Still, her reaction to seeing this man had troubled him and Mitchell found he needed to know why before they went any further.

    ¡°Edrokii Sereg, is it?¡± Mitchell spoke up then.

    The crime lord¡¯s dagger-sharp eyes flicked back to Mitchell and he narrowed them.

    ¡°What a strange accent you have. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve heard the like before. Where are you from?¡±

    ¡°Give me a moment,¡± Mitchell said, ignoring the question. ¡°I need to talk with my associates.¡±

    Without waiting for an answer, Mitchell turned and placed himself in front of Allora, blocking Sereg¡¯s sight of her and then indicated she should walk to the back wall. Lethelin dutifully followed. Reaching it, gave Mitchell about eight or ten meters but it would have to be enough.

    ¡°Okay,¡± Mitchell whispered. ¡°Who is he?¡±

    ¡°His name is Falen Ne Eristan. His father was a minister Baylor¡¯s council, although I forget what he oversaw. Falen was in the palace often as a child. We would sometimes play together, although he is a few years older.¡±

    ¡°Were you friends?¡±

    ¡°Acquaintances, perhaps,¡± Allora explained. ¡°He was older, as I said, and once I joined the academy at seven high suns, there was not much time for playing with the other children. We would see each other sometimes at palace functions. More so when I was old enough to start guard duty rotations.¡±

    ¡°Is he likely to recognize you?¡±

    Allora made a face.

    ¡°Almost certainly,¡± Allora said and glanced to Lethelin. ¡°As you are so fond of pointing out, I am the most wanted woman in Awenor.¡±

    Lethelin shrugged and looked apologetic. ¡°Sorry.¡±

    ¡°What can you tell me about him? Anything useful?¡±

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    Allora firmed her lips and Mitchell could see her trying to get her head back into the game. Behind him, someone coughed and made sounds of impatience. Mitchell ignored it.

    ¡°His father was well thought of in his role, but I remember hearing that he was a very particular man. Believed strongly in rules and propriety. He was an elf and Falen¡¯s mother was human, but their bond didn¡¯t last and Falen grew up with his father. He liked to claim direct Waivian lineage, going all the way back to before our people came from Manaal.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like someone I would have liked picking the pockets of,¡± Lethelin mumbled.

    ¡°So, dad was uptight, strict, and prided himself on his formality. Now his son is an Edrokin.¡±

    ¡°Edrokii,¡± Lethelin corrected.

    ¡°Edrokii,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°Think he rebelled?¡±

    Allora shrugged. ¡°I do not know how he could have ended up here and in this position.¡±

    ¡°Is he a threat?¡± Mitchell asked, at last.

    ¡°Everyone is potentially a threat, Mitchell,¡± Allora said, her voice tinged with sorrow. ¡°We can trust no one.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s go see what he wants.¡±

    The girls looked at him, he nodded, and then they turned to face the crime lord and his crew.

    Edrokii Sereg was glaring by the time they returned to their spot.

    ¡°I dislike being kept waiting,¡± he said in a level voice.

    ¡°I dislike my companions and I being held,¡± Mitchell said, matching his tone.

    ¡°I was told I had gifts. I came to see what they were.¡±

    From the corner of Mitchell¡¯s eye, he saw Lethelin¡¯s hands begin an intricate set of movements that looked like sign language. The movements were jerky and emphatic and she exhaled forcefully through her nose more than once as her fingers danced. Sereg caught it too, and arched an eyebrow.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care if it was a pretense,¡± he snapped, his ice-chip eyes narrowing.

    The hand signs were new, Mitchell thought to himself. But then Sereg ¨Cor Felan ¨C continued and Mitchell¡¯s heart seized.

    ¡°Now, Allora De Annen,¡± Felan said slowly peering into the darkness behind Mitchell¡¯s left shoulder. ¡°Why don¡¯t you tell me what you¡¯re doing back in Lorivin and who you¡¯ve brought with you.¡±

    No one spoke. Slowly, Mitchell turned and looked back at Allora, her face flat and hard, her violet eyes panicked. Then she stepped out from behind Mitchell and came up equal to him.

    ¡°Hello, Falen. It has been many years.¡±

    Allora¡¯s voice was as flat as her face but Mitchell could read the tension in every line of her body. His own stomach was twisting itself in knots as well and he was fighting the instinct to simply attack and take their chances. There were only four of them and Vras was still on overwatch. If it came to violence, Mitchell liked their chances. His fingers itched to grab his sword and start swinging but he held back. He had asked Lethelin for her council and this was her area of expertise. His gut told him he needed to trust her, no matter how much he wanted to go on the offensive.

    ¡°I¡¯d heard rumors you¡¯d been spotted to the south in the Shadow Glen.¡±

    ¡°You have good ears,¡± she replied.

    Falen shrugged.

    ¡°Then, I hear that an elf is trying to sneak into the city. ¡®Who could that be?¡¯ I asked myself.¡±

    Allora said nothing so Falen continued.

    ¡°And here you are,¡± he said, his long fingers tapping on the hilt of his sword once more. ¡°You must have been moving quickly. Why the rush, I wonder? Why come back?¡±

    ¡°I have business in the city. And what of you? How does a minister¡¯s son come to be an edrokii?¡±

    ¡°Oh, not that interesting, really. Growing up around my father and his work, I was privy to all sorts of information. I started making inroads into the guild as soon as I could find a reliable contact. The hard part was hiding my background. There were many who would have sought to use that to their advantage, maybe even with a ransom. That first year was like trying to tiptoe through bevik territory.

    ¡°But with information stolen from my father¡¯s things, I was able to make fast friends with some of the previous Edrokii¡¯s lieutenants. I expected it to take several years before I could claim the title myself, but¡­¡±

    ¡°But,¡± Allora finished for him, ¡°When Milandris came, you saw your chance.¡±

    ¡°Something like that. Chaos also brings opportunity if one is bold enough to seize it. When the dust settled, Edrokii Red Fang was dead, as well as some of his most loyal lieutenants, and I claimed his territory.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t imagine that sat well with the other edrokii,¡± Lethelin said.

    Falen glanced at her and a corner of his mouth quirked into a little half grin.

    ¡°No, it did not. But I¡¯ve managed to hang on to his territory thus far.¡±

    ¡°Well, now that we¡¯ve all caught up, I think we¡¯ll be on our way,¡± Mitchell interjected. ¡°As Allora said, we¡¯ve business.¡±

    Falen turned his alien eyes on Mitchell then and he got the impression the man was sizing him up, from the tips of his unwashed hair to the bottom of his travel-worn boots. Mitchell saw his eyes take in the sevith and count the stones, and also the sword at his side.

    ¡°That accent again. I¡¯ve not heard its like before, and I¡¯ve spoken to those from most of the seven kingdoms. Where are you from, human?¡±

    ¡°Jamaica. Right near the beach,¡± Mitchell told him, not even bothering to hide the sarcasm. The sense of warning was growing in his gut. Something about the way his retinue were glancing around, acting shifty. He could see sweat on the brows of more than one and caught them glancing at Allora¡¯s blade. He had seen well enough what kind of fear an Onyx Knight could put into people, and this group were definitely afraid. If there were elite special forces on Tewadunn, they were it.

    ¡°You¡¯re right, I¡¯ve never heard of it.¡±

    It was Mitchell¡¯s turn to shrug.

    ¡°Maybe you should get out of the city more. Big, bold world out there. I appreciate your man getting us behind the walls, but it¡¯s time for us to be on our way. As Allora said, we¡¯ve business in the city.¡±

    ¡°Business in the city,¡± Falen repeated, his fingers tapping again on his sword hilt. Then, his strange gaze fell back on Allora. ¡°You didn¡¯t really think you could get into the city unnoticed, did you? The last Onyx Knight? You should have stayed away, Allora.¡±

    ¡°Falen¡­¡± Allora said, the warning clear in her voice. ¡°Do not do this. You know whom I serve. You know I would not be back unless it was vital to Awen and our people. Your father served with distinction for many years. You know better than most what could happen if you stand in my way.¡±

    His too-perfect face split into a wry grin that didn¡¯t quite reach his eyes.

    ¡°You¡¯re right, I do. And there was a part of me that considered letting you go on your way once I confirmed it was you.

    Mitchell felt his blood go cold at the use of the past tense. Falen flicked his eyes to the halfling and gave a slight nod. Immediately one of the stones on his sevith flashed and Mitchell jerked, ready for an attack, but none came.

    ¡°But,¡± Falen said with a regretful sigh that Mitchell almost believed, ¡°There is a substantial reward for your capture, as well as the capture of any you travel with. And that is coin I need.¡±

    Before he had finished speaking, the door that they had entered through opened again on ancient hinges, the screech echoing in the large room, and more of Falen¡¯s people began to file in. Eight men, Mitchell counted, as the last one closed the door behind him. Mitchell saw a mix of races.  Then, from the steps leading down into the basement, more men emerged. Another five of his people came jogging up the steps. Nineteen in total, all of them armed with weapons and several with krisas or seviths. In just seconds they were completely surrounded. Even with Vras, Mitchell knew they couldn¡¯t fight their way out of this.

    The silence was thick in the room and the tension was palpable. Mitchell thought he could actually smell the stress and the fear coming off of some of them. Even with their superior numbers, all of them knew they were within striking distance of an Onyx Knight and, if Lethelin was correct, they were risking the wrath of other edrokii by their actions.

    ¡°You limp-dicked half-breed son of a toothless dock whore!¡± Lethelin snarled. ¡°You think word won¡¯t get out about this?¡± Then she turned her attention to the men and women surrounding them. ¡°I am Lethelin Ne Forlia of Varset. I was apprenticed to Alvi De Demarin and I am the Black Hand of Edrokii Gijak. You¡¯d all better pray to Denass and the moons that word does not travel back to him about this night. Because he will come for you. Denass might show mercy, but Edrokii Gijak will not. This will start a war.¡±

    At the mention of Edrokii Gijak, the two orcs in the group flinched and, although he couldn¡¯t read their expressions very well, they appeared to look uncertain. He saw them glance at each other, then at Lethelin and then at Falen. And the title Black Hand also got the attention of the entire group.

    ¡°My soldiers are loyal, Ms. Forlia,¡± Sereg told her smoothly. ¡°And with the money your bounty will fetch, they know they will be paid handsomely.¡±

    ¡°What in the nine hells was that?¡± one of the men stationed up behind them suddenly cried out.

    ¡°What?¡± Falen demanded.

    ¡°There¡¯s something on the second level. I saw a flash of eyes. Large. Green.¡±

    ¡°Probably just an animal,¡± someone else said, ¡°with large, green eyes.¡±

    Mitchell gave a low chuckle before answering. That he was laughing in the situation seemed to further upset the group.

    ¡°He wanted you to see him, then. He likes it when you¡¯re afraid. It makes you taste better.¡±

    ¡°Who did?¡± the same man said.

    Mitchell turned and found the man who had spoken. An elf wearing light leather armor and holding two daggers in his hand.

    ¡°Not a who,¡± Mitchell told him slowly. ¡°A what.¡± Then he gave the man a wink.

    Falen looked to his right and selected three of his men.

    ¡°You three, get up there and bring down whomever is up there. Capture if you can, but if they won¡¯t come quietly, do what you have to do.¡±

    ¡°Not a who,¡± Mitchell said again, ¡°A what. You really don¡¯t want to do that.¡±

    Such was the conviction in Mitchell¡¯s voice that the three men sent to go after Vras actually hesitated.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want your men to die, Falen,¡± Mitchell told him somberly. ¡°Because they won¡¯t die quietly, I promise you. Anyone you send up there will be killed and their screams will haunt you.¡±

    This was spiraling out of control, Mitchell knew. If those men went up to the second level, there would be no saving them. In the dark, with Vras seeing them coming, Mitchell knew the shadow cat would have no trouble at all. And once the bloodshed started, it wouldn¡¯t stop until he and the girls were either dead or in chains. He had to think and he had to think fast.

    What could he do? How could he get them out of this? He had no back up, he had no resources. He was vastly outnumbered and had only the barest hint of what was going on. He could see that the men, despite apparently being loyal to their edrokii, were not thrilled about what was about to go down. Lethelin¡¯s words had struck a nerve. There had to be a way to salvage this.

    Mitchell looked to Allora and he could see by the set of her shoulders that she expected violence.

    ¡°Think!¡± he screamed to himself. ¡°There¡¯s always a way out! Think, gods damn it!¡±

    Mitchell started reviewing everything Falen had said. Everything Lethelin and Allora had said. He was missing something, and he knew it. He had to find it if they were going to get out of here. This was a potentially dangerous or deadly situation for him. He wouldn¡¯t be risking it without something driving him. Risking war with other edrokii, with the guild from Varset. Why would he be so stupid? Just for the reward money? It wouldn¡¯t mean much if he wasn¡¯t alive to spend it.

    Mitchell¡¯s brain was churning so hard he was actually sweating. Falen must have a knife at his back to be risking so much. All Mitchell had to do was find something he wanted more. But what did he have? Nothing substantial he could offer, that was for sure. All he had was the hope of success. Would it be enough? Then he remembered Allora¡¯s words, that his family claimed Waivian heritage going back thousands of years. He¡¯d chosen a Waivian word as his edrokii title. Maybe that meant he still put stock in the old ways. Then there was the knowledge that fey love to make deals.

    ¡°Fuck it,¡± Mitchell said to himself. ¡°What would Harvey Spector do?¡±

    The men Falen had selected to go up to the second floor were on their way to the broke stairway to find a way to get up there and Mitchell knew they would be dead soon if he didn¡¯t stop them. Then, they all might end up dead.

    ¡°I claim protection by the Laws of Hospitality,¡± Mitchell blurted out into the heavy silence.

 Chapter 79

    Falen blinked and he actually stood slightly straighter.

    ¡°You what?¡±

    ¡°You heard me.¡±

    ¡°By what right do you claim the protection of the law?¡± Falen challenged, his voice hard.

    ¡°By the fact that we are guests and have been invited into, as you said, your city and to your warehouse. You are obligated to offer us food, drink, and to do us no harm.¡±

    ¡°Are you mad? This is not my home!¡±

    ¡°As I understand it, this is part of your territory, is it not? You claim ownership of this warehouse? And we are invited guests. Does the law state it has to be a place you sleep in?¡±

    Mitchell was pulling all of this out of his ass, but it was the only card he could think to play. He only had the barest understanding of alien legalisms, but it seemed to have gained him a little traction, so he intended to run with it.

    ¡°Allora, does the law say it has to be a place where they sleep?¡± Mitchell asked her, not wanting to lose momentum.

    ¡°No,¡± she said, and he could hear her warming to the idea immediately. ¡°The laws apply only to the interaction between the hosts and the guests. It does not matter where one is being hosted.¡±

    One man was halfway up the wall, balancing on support beams and reaching for a bar to pull himself up to the next section of stairs. The other two were close behind. Mitchell didn¡¯t have much time.

    ¡°There you have it,¡± Mitchell told Falen. ¡°Is she wrong?¡±

    The Edrokii¡¯s lips were thin and iron hard as he glared at Allora, then at Mitchell. He gave the slightest wobble of his head.

    ¡°She is not.¡±

    ¡°I think you need to reconsider this course of action, Edrokii Sereg,¡± Mitchell told him, using his full title for the first time. Mitchell hoped he saw it as a sign of respect. ¡°You are risking a great deal. The wrath of the other edrokii in the city, a possible war with Gijak for the death of his Black Hand, and the consequences of violating the laws and causing harm to your guests. Call your men back. I do not wish for them to die. Because they will if they breach the second floor, and I won¡¯t be able to save them.¡±

    Falen¡¯s fingers were no longer tapping his sword hilt. His hand was wrapped so hard around the pommel that his knuckles were white. The men and women around him were also looking uncertain. They were all guild members and looked to be feeling less comfortable with their edrokii¡¯s course of action as the situation dragged on. And whatever was waiting on the second floor seemed to have several of them spooked.

    Allora spoke up then.

    ¡°Please, Falen. You know I would not lie. Your men will die if they venture any farther and then we will not be able to control what happens next. We were nearly friends once. I would have been happy to call you as such. Please bid your men return. Honor the laws.¡±

    ¡°Call them back and we can make a deal,¡± Mitchell said, tossing out the carrot after the stick.

    The first man had made it to the ledge of the second-floor platform and the structure was wobbling ominously.

    ¡°From where I stand, you don¡¯t have much with which to bargain,¡± Falen nearly snarled.

    ¡°If we can talk, I think you will see differently. But you must call your men back. Now.¡±

    Falen stared at Mitchell with those living doll eyes and Mitchell could see his heartbeat throbbing in his temple. One beat. Then another. The man on the stairs was about to pull himself up over the ledge.

    ¡°Hold!¡± Falen called into deadly quiet. ¡°Come back down.¡±

    Mitchell saw several of his men sag in relief and weapons that had been raised in preparation for battle started to lower.

    The man who was at the ledge looked down at Falen, then started to retrace his steps. The two men who were coming up behind jumped down rather than risk the wobbly boards, and, when the first got to a safe height, he did the same. No one spoke as they took their position back in the ring surrounding Mitchell and the girls.

    ¡°What is up there?¡± Falen said, finally.

    ¡°It¡¯s better if you don¡¯t know,¡± Mitchell told him in all seriousness. ¡°But I spoke truth. They would have died.¡±

    ¡°Kasver, call the carriage,¡± Falen said, looking to the halfling. ¡°The rest of you, clear out. I¡¯m sure you have other jobs I pulled you away from. We¡¯re done here.¡±

    ¡°It is appreciated, Falen,¡± Allora told him, gratitude plain in her voice.

    He turned from giving his people orders and gave an indecipherable look.

    ¡°I will honor the laws. If you and your companions will join me in my carriage, I can carry you safely away to my manor. We can discuss your deal there.¡±

    Mitchell nodded.

    ¡°If you will give us a moment to gather our things, we will meet you at the carriage.¡±

    ¡°Be quick,¡± Falen snapped. Then, he turned and followed his men to the door, the others leaving by the basement passage that they¡¯d come through.

    Once they were sure they were in the clear, Mitchell brought the crate up from downstairs and had Vras climb in. The cat still didn¡¯t like it, but it didn¡¯t provoke the fight it had been at first. Then, he and Allora carried it out and, luckily, they were able to secure it to the top of the carriage that had been parked just outside the door. Two jivi were secured and the halfling Falen had called Kasver was sitting shotgun next to a human woman who was driving. They offered no help in getting the crate secured, and Mitchell didn¡¯t ask for any. The less interaction anyone had with it, the better.

    Once that was done, the three of them took their place inside the carriage, all of them sitting opposite Falen, who sat alone on the other side. Lethelin on the far right, Allora in the middle, and Mitchell taking the left side. It was a little tight, and there was some difficulty arranging their weapons to sit, but but no one wanted to sit next to Falen and he didn¡¯t offer the space. Falen gave a knock on the roof, which was the signal the driver was waiting for. With the sound of reins snapping, the jivis leapt forward.

    ¡°Falen, I¡ª¡±

    ¡°No conversations, if you please, my lady,¡± Falen interjected. ¡°This carriage is not warded and we could be overheard. Wait until we are at my manor.¡±

    She nodded her understanding and the four of them rode in one of the most uncomfortable silences Mitchell could ever recall. The only thing that came close to it was trying to have dinner with an ex-girlfriend and her parents a few days after the girl¡¯s mother had walked in on them having sex on her daughter¡¯s living room sofa. Mom had had a key, apparently.

    Mitchell shifted uncomfortably in his seat and started humming Birdhouse In Your Soul by They Might Be Giants under his breath as the carriage traveled through the night towards their mysterious destination. It was his attempt at trying to ignore the awkwardness of riding with the man who, just a few minutes ago, had been prepared to turn them in for a reward. He couldn¡¯t even get a good look at the city as the windows were covered.

    He¡¯d gone through Birdhouse, Particle Man, and was in the middle of Ana Ng when he felt a small jab in his side from an incredulous Allora. As was usual, whenever he got into a groove with singing to himself, it took him out of the moment, but it was the best way he¡¯d found to calm his nerves and sort of center himself. He was tired, hungry, nervous ¡ª okay, terrified ¡ª and this was his thing.

    He looked over at Allora who nodded towards Falen. Mitchell followed her gaze and saw the crime lord staring at him, a look of bewilderment on his face.

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s balls, don¡¯t you people ever sing here?¡± he asked.

    ¡°It is not the song that interests me... I¡¯m sorry, I never got your name.¡±

    ¡°I never gave it,¡± Mitchell said, not quite yet ready to be friendly with their host after what had transpired.

    ¡°He has agreed to abide by the laws,¡± Allora said, more diplomatically than Mitchell was feeling. ¡°We should do likewise.¡±

    Mitchell huffed and pushed down his instinct to be sarcastic and petulant before nodding his understanding.

    ¡°You can call me Mitch,¡± he told Falen.

    ¡°Meetchu,¡± the crime lord said, trying out the name and getting it wrong. Common didn¡¯t seem to have an ending ch frictive and its speakers always wanted to add an additional vowel at the end of the syllable. Falen continued on with what he had been about to say before.

    ¡°But, as I was saying, it is not the song so much that interests me, although I would question the timing. But rather it is the language you are singing in. I don¡¯t recognize it.¡±

    Mitchell felt his face heat up and he looked to Allora.

    ¡°Was I singing out loud again?¡± he whispered.

    ¡°Yes,¡± she told him.

    He cringed a little.

    ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m just tired. It¡¯s been a long day.¡±

    He looked across to see Lethelin staring at him too, only she was grinning.

    ¡°You¡¯re really weird, sometimes, you know that?¡± the thief told him.

    ¡°Yeah, I know,¡± he told her, smiling back.

    Then he turned back to Falen. ¡°I was singing a song of my people.¡±

    ¡°And those are the people from this...Jamka?¡±

    ¡°Near there, yes,¡± Mitchell told him, not bothering to elaborate.

    Falen stared at him hard, tapping his fingers once again on his cane. He gave Allora a long look, but he didn¡¯t push for more information.

    The carriage ride continued on in silence for another twenty minutes or so before it came to a stop. Mitchell heard the sound of gates opening and then the sound of the wheels changed from going over cobbled stone to gravel. A minute or so after that, it came to a stop and Mitchell heard the driver and the halfling climb down. The door swung open and Falen was the first to emerge, and Mitchell and the girls followed.

    What greeted them upon their exit was a three-story manor made of gray stone that had more rounded sections than right angles. Mitchell had seen a few buildings like this but none as grand as this one. The house seemed to bulge in odd places and it almost looked like giant stone balls had been stacked upon each other and joined together. It was beautiful but also somewhat unsettling to look at.

    Falen saw him staring as he turned from giving his people a set of orders.

    ¡°My father was a traditionalist,¡± Falen began by way of explanation. ¡°This design is reminiscent of Waivian architecture. He said we were descended from a sea fae race who fashioned their homes under the waves in bubbles of crystal that they grew on the sea floor.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± Mitchell said truthfully, letting his eyes roam over the structure that had barely any right angles. Even the windows were rounded.

    ¡°But¡­¡± Falen said, hearing the hesitation in Mitchell¡¯s voice.

    Mitchell broke his eyes away from staring at the near impossibility of the house¡¯s design. Next to him, Lethelin and Allora were staring as well.

    ¡°But something about it is¡­ disquieting. I mean no disrespect, but I can tell that this was never designed for people to live in.¡±

    ¡°No disrespect taken. You are correct. I hated this home as a child, but as I¡¯ve gotten older, I find a certain comfort in it.¡±

    Falen pointed to the chest at the top of the carriage. ¡°What would you like done with that?¡±

    ¡°If you can give me a moment with it.¡±

    ¡°As you wish.¡±

    Mitchell and Allora went around to the opposite side of the carriage and the two of them wrestled it to the ground. It wasn¡¯t so much that it was heavy for Mitchell, but it was awkward. Once they had it on the ground, he whispered into one of the holes.

    ¡°Once the lid opens, I want you to make your way out and hide in the garden around the house. Stay out of sight and don¡¯t kill anyone unless you have no other choice.¡±

    The grounds that Mitchell could see beyond the lantern lit gravel gate looked to be expansive enough and with enough tended greenery, that Vras should be able to hide until they figured out what to do with him. That was Mitchell¡¯s plan, at least. With one last glance around to check that no one was nearby watching, he lifted the lid. Vras slinked out and vanished into the darkness like he was being absorbed by it. Then, with a nod to Allora, they picked it up like they were still carrying something, and brought it around to the other side. Falen was waiting with Lethelin, the two of them like staring at each other like vipers sizing each other up.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to bring that into my home?¡± Falen asked, a note of warning in his voice.

    ¡°Oh, this?¡± Mitchell said. ¡°It¡¯s empty. But you never know when you¡¯re going to need a box to carry some things.¡±

    Mitchell tilted it forward and lifted the lid, showing him that the wooden crate was indeed empty.

    Falen eyed the box and the three of them in turn and it was clear that he didn¡¯t accept the explanation, but Mitchell hadn¡¯t lied, so he had not violated any of the laws as he understood them.

    ¡°Leave it by the door for now. I don¡¯t expect you will be staying long.¡±

    He turned and headed towards the round double doors that were made of a heavy dark wood that had been polished to a high shine and seemed to glow with an inner light from the mage lights that were set around his entryway. The woman, with Kasver by her side, pulled them open and everyone walked through. Mitchell felt like he was walking through a human-sized hobbit door.

    The interior was more wood and stone molded to the shape of the sides of the structure, but here there were exceptions. Alcoves and hallways made allowances for rectangular wall hangings and small tables. He could see a rounded hallway leading deeper into the bowels of the house with circular doors going off at different intervals The foyer was broad and round like everything else, the steps leading up, curved and also polished to a high shine. Mitchell saw that the wood paneling had been carved to represent flowing waveswith whirlpools and of various different sizes spaced seemingly at random in the swirls of wood. He stopped just inside, gaping and turning, his two companions doing the same.

    ¡°Balls and taint,¡± Lethelin groaned.

    Then she grabbed the side of her head and swayed slightly. Mitchell knew the feeling because he was suffering from it too. Standing in the center of the foyer as they were, one got the impression that the walls were curling around you, even though they weren¡¯t moving at all. Suddenly, he felt himself begin to tilt to one side and Allora reached out a hand to steady him, her own already on Lethelin¡¯s arm. As Mitchell fought to see her through the vertigo, he observed her eyebrows pressed together as if she were straining to stay upright herself.

    ¡°It is less intense as you move deeper into the house. Come, I¡¯ll show you into the study where we can talk.¡±

    Falen gestured through the other end of the foyer to the steps leading up and the three of them staggered upstairs, Lethelin groaned and Mitchell was holding back bile. Allora was looking pale as well, but seemed the least affected.

    Once in the hall the effect did diminish, as promised, but Mitchell found he needed to keep his eyes cast down at the floor to clear his head completely. The lack of angles that he was accustomed to, as well as all the flowing lines, was playing hell with his senses. He even had a coppery taste in his mouth that he couldn¡¯t explain. The three of them continued down the hall behind Falen with the as-yet unnamed woman and Kasver bringing up the rear, as silent as ever. They didn¡¯t seem to be suffering any ill effects, and Mitchell reasoned they were probably used to it.

    They were brought into a study that was mercifully rectangular. Mitchell never thought he would be happy to see right angles again, and the unsteady feeling he¡¯d been suffering since stepping through the door alleviated immediately.

    ¡°Sit. Make yourselves comfortable,¡± he told them as he went to his desk at the back wall. ¡°Britha, bring us some wine, please. Something from Iletish. The blue, maybe. And have Gota prepare some bread and cheese. Just whatever she has laying around.¡±

    The woman gave a curt nod and turned without a word.

    ¡°Kasver, see to the jivis,¡± he paused, looking at the three of them recovering on a plush leather sofa, ¡°and keep the gnolhounds in their kennels tonight. I fear the grounds are not safe at the moment.¡±

    Mitchell saw the halfling arch an eyebrow at his boss, and give the three of them an angry look.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see to it, sir.¡±

    Then, the halfling spun on his heels and hurried out of the room.

    Falen dropped into his chair with a heavy sigh, tossing his sword and scabbard across the mounds of papers he had scattered there. He leaned his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose. The silence stretched. Mitchell took the lull to examine his surroundings.

    The room itself was well appointed. There were several maps of distant lands on the walls, all of them drawn in exquisite detail that Mitchell was itching to study more closely. There were shelves set into the walls with ¨C if he had to guess ¨C two or three hundred volumes spread across the three interior walls. The ceiling was domed, in a concession to the round design of the house itself and there was a large stone fireplace behind the desk where Falen sat. The room was lit by sconces with mage lights glowing dimly and it gave the area a twilight aesthetic.

    After a long pause, Falen sat up with an exasperated sigh and stared hard at Allora.

    ¡°Do you have any idea how much coin you have forced me to give up?¡±

    ¡°I admit to being curious about the size of the bounty on my head,¡± Allora said. ¡°What is it up to?¡±

    ¡°Two thousand crowns,¡± Falen said. ¡°And an extra five hundred for the capture of anyone in your party.¡±

    Allora¡¯s eyes popped halfway to her hairline at the figure.

    ¡°Milandris has grown desperate, it seems. That is a king¡¯s ransom.¡±

    ¡°Why even risk it, though?¡± Lethelin asked. ¡°Why risk war with the guild? You knew who I was. That enough should have prevented you from trying to seek the bounty.¡±

    ¡°Because I need those crowns!¡± he snapped. ¡°It is getting harder and harder to move things into and out of the city. Every gate is watched, every wagon is searched. Smuggling has slowed to a crawl and I am running out of funds. The gambling dens and the brothels only bring in so much. I don¡¯t have the war chest of some of the other edrokii and if they hear about my struggles, they will come for my territory.¡±

    ¡°Surely they are struggling just as much,¡± Lethelin said.

    ¡°They are, but they are already well established and have the funds to ride this out. The reward from turning you lot in would have given me what I needed to keep hold of what I have until this blows over and, maybe even finance an expansion.¡±

    The group looked at each other, and then back at Falen. Mitchell wasn¡¯t sure what he was supposed to do with that information.

    ¡°So,¡± the gang boss continued after no comment was given, ¡°If you don¡¯t offer me something very lucrative, I will have no choice but to turn you in anyway, and take my chances with the fates for breaking the laws of hospitality. Because if I can¡¯t pay my people and at least maintain what I have, I¡¯m as good as dead anyway. You said you can offer a deal, so offer your deal. Now.¡±

 Chapter 80

    ¡°I think you have guessed who I am at this point,¡± Mitchell told him. ¡°Am I correct?¡±

    Falen met his eyes and then glanced at Allora before nodding.

    ¡°You are to be the next monarch. Allora, through unknown means, has managed to find someone who can bond with Awen. Despite being hunted and on the run, and despite not having the Council of Eight to cast the ritual. That is the only reason I can think that she would be back here.¡±

    Mitchell gave him a nod.

    ¡°You have the heart stone then, I take it?¡± Falen asked.

    ¡°I do.¡±

    Falen shook his head before looking at Allora with clear admiration.

    ¡°How in the nine hells did you manage that?¡±

    ¡°It was not easy,¡± Allora said by way of reply.

    ¡°If I didn¡¯t know you as well as I do, I would offer you a job,¡± he told Allora with a chuckle. ¡°With you at my side, I could take control of the whole city.¡±

    ¡°My destiny lies elsewhere,¡± she told him with an almost apologetic smile and then looked at Mitchell.

    Falen saw the look and apparently understood the meaning behind it.

    ¡°Indeed,¡± he said. Then, perhaps remembering there were more pressing matters, the beleaguered don brought his glassy stare back to Mitchell. ¡°So, what is it you are proposing? Did you arrive from whatever strange land you are from with two thousand crowns? Because and please take this in the spirit in which it is given ¨C you don¡¯t look like you have that much.¡±

    ¡°I have nothing I can offer you today. But if I retake the palace and the city, I think I would be in a pretty good position to make up for the loss of crowns you suffered today. Not the least of which would be an immediate end to the checks at every gate in the city.¡±

    Falen¡¯s face had lost the gentle friendliness he had displayed when talking with Allora. His eyes were dagger sharp and his face hard.

    ¡°Having traffic resume through the gates unhindered would definitely help me get my goods moving in and out of the city and, in time, I would recover what I¡¯ve lost, but that could take weeks. I¡¯m going to need more.¡±

    Mitchell nodded, expecting as much. He gave himself a few moments, weighing his options. There was no time to talk this over with Allora, but chances are she wouldn¡¯t like anything he could offer anyway, feeling as she did about underworld dealings.

    ¡°Once I have control of the city¨C¡±

    ¡°That is a large presumption, don¡¯t you think?¡± Falen interjected. ¡°Milandris is not actually in residence, but a great many of his people are and they are all on the lookout for her.¡±

    Falen pointed a long finger at Allora.

    ¡°It is a large presumption, but as you just said, with Allora by your side, you could take control of the whole city. She¡¯s not by your side, but she is by mine. Not to mention my other companion, who got us inside the walls to begin with. I like our chances.¡±

    Falen arched a blonde eyebrow but didn¡¯t comment, so Mitchell pushed on.

    ¡°What does someone like you value more than anything else?¡±

    Falen shrugged.

    ¡°Power,¡± he said. ¡°Control.¡±

    ¡°And information.¡±

    ¡°True.¡±

    ¡°With that in mind,¡± Mitchell began, taking a deep breath, ¡°I want to offer not a deal, but a partnership. There will be chaos after we take back the city and I will need as much information as I can to be able make decisions going forward. I need ears and eyes on the street. And you will need information as well. Perhaps about rivals. One of my first orders of business once I get the city under control is to start gathering information. Whatever records remain in the palace will be a little outdated and I will want to update them quickly. In return for your generosity today, and you cooperation in the future, I am proposing an information sharing service.

    ¡°Where I¡¯m from, we say ¡®you scratch my back, and I¡¯ll scratch yours.¡¯ You give me information on things like enemy activity in the city, put me in touch with people who could become crown agents, or people who could be bought or turned, and help me identify threats, and I¡¯ll feed you information about rivals that I acquire through my network that might help you in your business. And, as long as your men and women aren¡¯t caught doing anything particularly nasty, I¡¯ll have the watch know to look the other way. Maybe your shipments get through a little faster than others. Maybe your men and women who do get arrested find their imprisonment orders mixed up with someone else set to go free. And there are many other little ways that you would benefit with a secret relationship with the palace that would increase your power and control.¡±

    Mitchell took a deep breath and sat back. That was it, that was his pitch. Guys like Falen always needed more information. Having the favor of the crown could help him in numerous ways, likely ones that Mitchell couldn¡¯t even imagine. Falen was clever and determined, that much was obvious. Mitchell could almost see the gears turning as he thought up ways that such a deal could benefit him. He knew Allora would be mad as hell about it, but thankfully she had not tried to argue about it with him. He hated that he had to spring it on her like that, but there really had been no time to work out something better, so Mitchell had played the only card he really had. Fearing the look on her face, however, he opted to keep his eyes on Falen.

    ¡°It occurs to me,¡± the gang boss said after a long silence, ¡°that all of those wonderful bits of information you would be sending me only come my way if you actually succeed. If I let you walk out of here and you fail, I get nothing. Even worse, some other person may collect that reward, which, by my counting, is worth three thousand crowns. You will be captured and/or killed and your deals won¡¯t be worth the paper you would ink them on. You want me to give all that up on the chance that you, a complete unknown, the last Onyx Knight, and a Black Hand from Varset can take back the city? If you had some other knights with you, or a small army at your back, maybe. But you don¡¯t. The knights are all dead and there is no army camping outside the gates.¡±

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Mitchell smiled then.

    ¡°What?¡± Falen asked him, seeing the cocky smile and looking a little unnerved by it. ¡°Why are you smiling like that? Is there an army somewhere?¡±

    ¡°I am smiling because I know something you don¡¯t know.¡±

    Falen looked to Allora and then to Mitchell.

    ¡°Well, what is it?¡±

    Mitchell turned then and looked at Allora. Her face wasn¡¯t the raging thundercloud he feared, but rather somewhat bemused.

    ¡°You heard what he said,¡± Mitchell told her. ¡°If we had some other knights.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Allora agreed. ¡°That is what he said.¡±

    ¡°Do you want to tell him, love?¡±

    ¡°Very much,¡± she said.

    ¡°Please.¡±

    Allora looked at Falen then, her face wearing an expression as smug as Mitchell felt.

    ¡°All of the knights are not dead,¡± she told him. ¡°More are coming. I expect them in a day or two.¡±

    Despite himself, Falen¡¯s eyes bulged.

    ¡°Impossible! All the knights in the service were killed in the coup. All but you. That is well known.¡±

    ¡°There were knights that were not actively serving that are making their way to the city as we speak. They are going to aid us in retaking the palace.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ knights never leave the service! That is well known, too! If there were a secret cadre of them out there, why¨C? How have they stayed hidden? It is impossible, I tell you!¡±

    ¡°Yet, it is true.¡±

    ¡°I think,¡± Mitchell said, trying not to sound like he was gloating too much, ¡°that you will find where Allora is concerned, words like ¡®impossible¡¯ don¡¯t mean much.¡±

    Allora turned and looked at him with a smile.

    ¡°That is very sweet, thank you, my lord.¡±

    She leaned over and gave him a little kiss on his cheek. Mitchell rubbed her leg but kept his attention on Falen.

    ¡°So, what do you say, Edrokii Sereg? Do we have a deal?¡±

    Falen sat back in his plush chair looking like he¡¯d had the wind knocked out of him. Mitchell had learned a lot about the knights over the last several weeks. They were respected, admired, feared, and held in reverence by even their enemies. From what had been explained to him, seeing them wiped out had struck a near mortal wound to the very soul of the nation. Hearing that, not just one, but several knights were still alive had stunned even the mob boss. Falen thought he was pointing out the impossible by wishing for other knights, but he had inadvertently given Mitchell the final piece he needed to seal the deal. The impossible was real.

    Mitchell leaned back into the sofa and took Allora¡¯s hand in his. From the corner of his eye, he that Allora was holding Lethelin¡¯s hand as well.

    Falen recovered himself after a moment and he snapped his fingers.

    ¡°We¡¯re done,¡± he called out into the room, not speaking to his three guests. ¡°You may leave us.¡±

    ¡°What¨C?¡± Allora began but before she could finish her thought, the air began to shimmer at several points around the room and, to Mitchell¡¯s astonishment, six figures appeared as if the space around them parted and they were stepping through curtains. All of them were heavily armored and armed, each one carrying crossbows, blades, as well as a sevith or a krisa. They all gave a nod to Falen, and then exited the room through the door they had come through.

    After the last one left, the trio all turned to look at Falen, who, it seemed, felt it was his turn to give a smug grin.

    ¡°A last bit of insurance if your offer failed to impress. Now that I¡¯ve decided to accept your terms, they are no longer necessary. Granted, we will need to iron out specific details, but I am content to allow your plans to proceed for the time being.¡±

    Mitchell debated whether to be angry or not, but ultimately decided against it. A deal had been struck and no one had died. He felt it best to leave it alone.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad,¡± Mitchell said at last, and he saw both Lethelin and Allora relax a little. Perhaps they had been expecting him to react differently. ¡°Now, that we¡¯re on better terms, there¡¯s something else I need from you.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°Chaos,¡± Mitchell said.

    ***

    It was the wee hours of the morning when their barrowed carriage pulled up outside of The Mighty Nine, the inn where they were to meet Gilriel¡¯s contact. Thankfully, Falen¡¯s garden had flax lilies so that they could get the three they needed, and the crime boss had procured the yellow ribbon from somewhere.

    ¡°Think anyone is still awake?¡± Lethelin asked while yawning as they stepped down onto the street. Allora quickly followed with a yawn of her own, and Mitchell wasn¡¯t far behind. It had been a very long and trying day and they weren¡¯t quite done yet.

    ¡°There should be watching the front,¡± Allora said. ¡°Even at this hour.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see why this couldn¡¯t wait until morning,¡± Lethelin complained. ¡°A few hours of sleep wouldn¡¯t have made any difference.¡±

    ¡°It may well have. We need to get this done as soon as we can,¡± Allora said. ¡°Do not forget that they have an ability to scry for me. We do not know how long we have until they locate me again.¡±

    Lethelin made a face, but didn¡¯t argue further. Mitchell signaled the woman, Britha, and she snapped the rein. The horses took off down the quiet street.

    Mitchell looked around to see they were in a rather nice part of the city. The buildings were all two-to-four stories high, made of a mix of wood and stone, almost all of them showing signs of ornamentation. He could make out shops of different varieties, as well as what looked to be cafes or restaurants, and the cobbled street was wide and clean. Mage lights in lanterns cast soft glows about every ten meters and, in the mists of the early morning, Mitchell felt like he was standing on some Victorian London street. He half expected to see Sherlock Holmes emerge from an alley or entryway. The air was crisp and cool in the early summer morning and the scent of all the trees and shrubbery up and down the lane was heavy in the air.

    The Mighty Nine was of a similar design as its neighbors. It was four stories, which made it one of the taller buildings on the street, and the ground level was dominated by two large currently dark windows on either side of the central door. A sign that was affixed to the wall of the inn above the left side of the entrance depicted six figures of various sizes in silhouette that looked to be mid-stride in one of those slow-motion shots that superhero movies always liked to do when the good guys were finally assembled to do battle with the final boss.

    ¡°There are only six people on the sign,¡± Mitchell said as Allora had begun to make her way up the steps.

    ¡°So,¡± Lethelin said.

    ¡°But it¡¯s called the Mighty Nine. Where are the other three?¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Lethelin said, rubbing some sleep from her eye. ¡°It¡¯s an old tale about a band of adventurers that slew one of the dragons after Yuliana Blood Scale was killed. Some general of hers or something. They called themselves the Nine, even though there were only six of them. No one knows why.¡±

    On the stoop Allora reached up and tugged at a chain. A small mage light appeared in a sconce affixed to the right of the door that Mitchell hadn¡¯t noticed before, and bathed the area in a warm yellow glow. From inside, he heard the quiet tinkling of a bell.

    ¡°That¡¯s a neat trick,¡± Mitchell said, looking at the illumination. He was once again pleasantly surprised by the simple yet ingenious knack they had for using magic here.

    ¡°It¡¯s a standard rune,¡± Allora told him as they waited for the door to open. ¡°It¡¯s carved into the door¡¯s frame and the chain is connected on the inside to a charged gemstone. Pulling it brings the gemstone inline with a bit of wire running through the wood of the door, usually gold or silver, and that channels a small amount of the mana from the stone into the rune, which powers the mage light.¡±

    Lethelin stepped closer and leaned her weary head against his chest as they waited.

    ¡°Doing okay?¡± he asked her.

    ¡°Just really want to sleep,¡± she said, exhaustion present in every syllable.

    ¡°Yeah, me too,¡± he told her, and kissed her scalp.

    The door clicked and Allora stepped back allowing it to open fully.

    A tired looking human woman with auburn hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and wearing a loose-fitting pale dress with a simple tie around the waist peered out, taking them in one at a time. She looked to be about twenty-five or so and it was clear she was trying to find the strength not to snap at late arrivals for disturbing her at such an hour.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s blessings on you lot and all that, but do you have any idea what time it is?¡±

    ¡°Apologies, good lady,¡± Allora said and ducked her head in a slight bow, ¡°but we come on a matter of some urgency. Might we enter, if it be Stollar¡¯s will?¡±

    The girl looked at Allora more closely, as if deciding whether or not to trust her.

    ¡°We have business with the mistress of the house, Cenedra. Please, we have traveled far and only just arrived.¡±

    ¡°Fine, fine. But keep it down. Our other guests are sleeping.¡±

    The woman stepped to the side and held the thick wooden door open and Allora thanked her once again and beckoned for Mitchell and Lethelin to follow.

    Almost carrying Lethelin, Mitchell climbed up the steps and followed Allora inside.

 Chapter 81

    Cenedra stared across the desk at them with eyes as tired as Mitchell felt. The elf was probably close to two hundred years old, which gave her a face that looked like a youthful sixty. She had a delicate crow¡¯s feet framing golden-yellow eyes and laugh lines around a supple mouth. Her dark brown hair had a few lines of gray in it and Mitchell could also detect the slightest drooping in her pointed ears. Truth be told, she was the oldest elf he had met thus far and she was still attractive, in a cougar sort of way. In her hands, she held the three flax lilies which had been the only thing that had gotten her out of her bed at this pre-dawn hour.

    ¡°Gilriel said you would be coming, be it Stollar¡¯s will, and it seems it was. Faster than I expected, but we¡¯ll make do.¡±

    ¡°Did she say when she would arrive?¡± Allora asked. ¡°I don¡¯t know how much time we have before those that hunt for me locate me in the city.¡±

    ¡°I expect she will be here within a day or two, with the others in tow.¡±

    ¡°Do you know how many other knights will come with her?¡± Mitchell asked. ¡°She wasn¡¯t sure how many would return.¡±

    ¡°She told me to prepare space for six, so if they¡¯ve all agreed to join you in taking back the city, that¡¯s what you¡¯ll have.¡±

    Allora inhaled in surprise.

    ¡°Almost a full squad.¡±

    Lethelin whistled.

    ¡°What can you tell us about the mood of the city,¡± Mitchell asked. ¡°Are people generally happy with how things are going?¡±

    Cenedra snorted.

    ¡°Hardly. It wasn¡¯t so bad up until about a month ago. That¡¯s when they started checking everyone and everything that arrived. Looking for you, no doubt,¡± Cenedra said with a grin aimed at Allora. ¡°But that¡¯s put skitterbacks down everyone¡¯s pants and there have been more and more skirmishes with what passes for the city watch these days. Troops were brought in last week to help deal with the additional disturbances. Trade has slowed to a crawl, foodstuffs are rotting waiting to be shipped, merchants are near to rioting, and even the thieves have been getting fed up. They can¡¯t steal what¡¯s not there to steal.¡±

    ¡°Sounds perfect for what we need,¡± Mitchell said, smiling at their bit of good fortune.

    Cenedra arched a dark eyebrow.

    ¡°What do you have in mind?¡±

    ¡°A distraction,¡± he told her. ¡°A very big distraction that I hope pulls enough people away from the palace perimeter so that we can get inside. Feel like lending a hand?¡±

    Cenedra held up one finger, indicating he should wait. With her other hand she pulled open a drawer in her desk and took out a flask, which she promptly unscrewed and added to her steaming mug of spiced wine. Then she tossed it back and hissed. Her whole body shuddered.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s balls!¡± she shouted as she settled back down and opened her eyes, which Mitchell could see now were wet with tears. ¡°That will put some hair on your sack, no doubt about it!¡±

    An acrid scent wafted across the desk and assaulted Mitchell¡¯s nose. For a moment he thought his sinuses had started bleeding and he sneezed violently. Then his eyes started to water.

    ¡°Balls,¡± he croaked. ¡°What is that?¡±

    ¡°Orcish ale,¡± Cenedra said with a raspy laugh. ¡°Puts fire in your belly and I think we¡¯re going to need it. Want a swig?¡±

    She held it out to the three of them and Mitchell passed, as did Allora. Lethelin looked tempted, but in the end she declined as well.

    Cenedra shrugged and put the flask back in her drawer.

    ¡°Alright then. Tell me what you need me to do.¡±

    ***

    About an hour later, with Mitchell¡¯s eyes burning from lack of sleep and his head throbbing, Cenedra told them they needed to rest.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be no good to anyone exhausted as you are. I¡¯ll take care of it from here. I¡¯ll have runners going at first light. You all get some rest. I have a warded bedchamber in the basement. It hasn¡¯t been used in a fair while, so give me twenty minutes or so that me and my girls can get it aired out and stocked with some fresh linens, so you¡¯ll have a warm bed to sleep in. It will be a little cramped with three of you, but it¡¯s what we¡¯ve got.¡±

    ¡°It will be fine, Mistress Cenedra,¡± Allora said. ¡°We are most appreciative.¡±

    ¡°Mistress Cenedra,¡± Lethelin said suddenly. ¡°You mentioned runners. I wonder if you could see to something for me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure I can. What is it you need?¡±

    ¡°There is a young girl, about twelve high suns old, at a tavern in the Maka called The Drake Rider. Her name is Eraphys.¡±

    Mitchell turned then, looking at Lethelin, suddenly curious.

    ¡°Would you send a runner for her and bring her here? Tell the runner to tell her that Leth sent him and if she still has doubts, tell her that my pet shadow cat is getting hungry and I need her hand.¡±

    ¡°Your pet shadow cat?¡± Cenedra said.

    ¡°It¡¯s a joke between us. And when she gets here, don¡¯t be shy about putting her to work if we¡¯re still sleeping. I¡¯ll talk to her when I get up.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll see it done,¡± the innkeeper nodded. Then she left to see to the room.

    ¡°Something you forgot to tell us?¡± Mitchell asked her.

    ¡°I... sort of adopted a stray. She tried to pick my pocket and I hired her instead. She set me on the path to Jonan.¡±

    Lethelin went on to explain the short encounter she¡¯d had and, while Mitchell wasn¡¯t sure what they were going to do with a tween half-elf, he agreed that getting her out of the Maka and away from this Erik fellow was a good idea.

    ¡°So we will have two thieves now?¡± Allora said. ¡°Wonderful.¡±

    ¡°Oh, be quiet, you dried up reef carp,¡± Lethelin said and put her weary head on Allora¡¯s shoulder and closed her eyes. ¡°You¡¯d have done the same.¡±

    ¡°You cannot talk to me that way, dock rat. I am the...¡± Allora began but stopped mid-sentence for a powerful yawn. ¡°I am the Lord Captain now. I could have you whipped.¡±

    Allora rested her head on top of Lethelin¡¯s.

    ¡°Don¡¯t threaten me with a good time,¡± Lethelin mumbled, already half asleep.

    Mitchell wasn¡¯t even sure Allora heard that last part as she was fading fast as well. He leaned his head back against the sofa, his right hand in Allora¡¯s, and smiled. He would just close his eyes for a minute. Cenedra would be back shortly and then they could get into a real bed.

    ***

    ¡°So that¡¯s the palace,¡± Mitchell said, staring at the slightly opaque barrier across the parkland that filled the area from the end of the Cloud District to the Onyx Palace¡¯s main gate.

    ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± Falen said, standing beside him.

    ¡°It¡¯s both bigger than I thought and also kind of smaller, too.¡±

    Falen grunted, but didn¡¯t comment. Instead, he studied the patrols of the city watch as Mitchell took in the sight. They began walking as casually as they could, trying to look like two gentlemen out for a stroll. Their attire didn¡¯t match very well as Mitchell was wearing his traveling gear and Falen was dressed up like an Awenorian dandy, with his tight breeches and somewhat foppish toga shirt again, but there were enough people that they didn¡¯t stand out. Even under occupation, business needed to get done.

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    Feeling much better after a decent sleep snuggled up between Allora and Lethelin, Mitchell had met Falen in his carriage early that afternoon and they had traveled to the palace grounds as had been agreed upon the night before. Mitchell needed to get a lay of the land before everything was set into motion. They¡¯d received a message from Gilriel that she expected to be in the city by the next morning, which Mitchell thought worked out well as it gave them some additional time to plan. Allora, sadly, was confined to that warded basement room as it sounded like they knew she was nearby, while Lethelin was seeing to her new charge, whom Mitchell had not yet gotten a chance to meet.

    Falen had received reports from some of his people that squads had started moving into the city early that morning and street patrols had been increased, which indicated that they knew Allora had made it to the city. Any elfin woman with dark hair was stopped and questioned, and this further soured the mood of the citizenry. Thankfully, he was still an unknown. As much as he¡¯d hated having to kill that squad in the forest the week before, he saw the wisdom of it now. This would have been much harder if he had had to hide from the patrols as well.

    The palace was surrounded by thirty-foot high walls of onyx, which he supposed fit the whole motif. It was made of five foot-by-five foot blocks of gray stone veined with various different hues. He could make out silver, pale white, some cream colors, and what looked like blues and reds, all swirled together.

    The main gate itself had a large and imposing guard station on the right-hand side and the huge metal doors, nearly two-thirds the height of the wall made of black steel. It was engraved with the figure of a man with his arms spread wide, and a tall nude woman behind him with her arms spread as well. When Mitchell had asked about it, Falen had said it was Lorivast, the first monarch, and the nude woman behind him was, of course, Awen. Mitchell had surmised as much as he¡¯d seen her in that form when he had first received the heart stone, but had not been so sure about the man. From this vantage point Mitchell could see nothing beyond the walls, so the actual palace grounds remained a mystery.

    The wall was not the most imposing structure, however. Granted, it was massive, and he could only imagine the difficulty in getting through it when it was fully defended by soldiers and casters, but what impressed him the most were the giant statues of pure black onyx carved into the barrier. Spaced every hundred feet or so and glistening in the afternoon sunlight, each one was different. Elves, humans, just about every race was represented by at least one statue, although he didn¡¯t see any cambions.

    ¡°What¡¯s the story with the statues?¡± Mitchell had asked Falen, as they¡¯d made a circuit of the entire palace.

    ¡°They¡¯re called the Defenders,¡± Falen said as they tried to keep a careful distance from any patrolling guards. ¡°Each one is a likeness of either a monarch or a member of the Council of Eight, or a former Lord Captain of the Knights. The last one was added, oh, fifty or sixty years ago, after Travelor¡¯s successor died. You know about him, right? Allora¡¯s father?¡±

    Mitchell nodded.

    ¡°He was a good Lord Captain. He tried to get Baylor in line, but ultimately the old whoreson succumbed to drink and sex and could barely be bothered to dress himself towards the end. I doubt the bastard will be getting a statue on the wall. Baylor, not Travelor.¡±

    They walked along a little bit more and Falen pointed out one.

    ¡°That one. Lord Captain Thurgulf Warbreaker. Ne Warbreaker, if you follow the regular naming convention, but not everyone does that. Humans and elves do, dwarves sometimes and orcs occasionally, but it varies from region to region. But the Defenders are supposed to come to the city¡¯s aid if it¡¯s ever threatened. It didn¡¯t seem to matter when Milandris showed up, though so take that with a fairy¡¯s promise.¡±

    Despite neither Mitchell nor Allora saying he was from off world, Falen seemed to have worked it out, and Mitchell made a mental note not to forget that the man was sharp.

    ¡°Why are all their eyes closed?¡±

    ¡°No idea. It does seem a strange convention, though, I¡¯ll admit.¡±

    Mitchell stared at the statue and noticed that Thurgulf did look a bit newer than the others. Like the other ones, each was done up in armor that looked similar to what he¡¯d seen Allora wearing at Gilriel¡¯s when she¡¯d been making her adjustments to her own set. As he studied the statutes while they walked, he could notice style changes or what appeared to be ornamentation that varied slightly from one statue to the next. All of them were carrying real weapons, though. At least weapons that had been resized for the statues. No normal-sized person could wield them. Even the statue of Thurgulf Warbreaker was nearly eighteen feet tall, if Mitchell had to guess, and he was on the shorter side as he was a dwarf.

    They made a full circuit of the palace grounds, and it took the better part of two hours. Despite himself, Mitchell found that he was warming to Falen. He thought under better circumstances, they might have become actual friends. As it was, he found that he was hesitant to reveal anything more than he absolutely had to.

    ¡°You know,¡± Falen told him as they walked out of earshot of a squad of several soldiers who were questioning a trio of women, one of which was an elf. ¡°There was a bit of an uproar around my manor this morning.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    Falen gave him a sidelong glance that was close cousin to a glare.

    ¡°It seems that my neighbor¡¯s prize jivi was eaten at some point in the night. It was a racing breed. Worth close to a thousand crowns.¡±

    Mitchell tried not to let shock show on his face.

    ¡°That sounds terrible,¡± Mitchell said, as casually as he could manage.

    ¡°Guards were called. They brought in a caster, and even dragged a ranger in from somewhere who said it looked like a shadow cat attack. But that would be impossible, wouldn¡¯t it? A shadow cat, here in the city?¡±

    ¡°As I understand it,¡± Mitchell said cautiously, ¡°shadow cats are quite deadly. Unstoppable killing machines. If one was in the city, surely it wouldn¡¯t have stopped at just a single jivi.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. It¡¯s just the kind of thing that could kill three armed and trained men if they approached it in the dark.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Mitchell said, nodding. ¡°I think you¡¯re probably right. If there was one in the city,¡± he added quickly. ¡°But, as you said, that would be impossible.¡±

    ¡°And, as I recall, you said that when it comes to a certain warrior woman we both know, that word doesn¡¯t mean much.¡±

    It was Mitchell¡¯s turn to glance at the crime boss, and he couldn¡¯t keep the grin from his face, this time.

    ¡°Still,¡± Falen continued with a sigh of only mild frustration, ¡°I suppose I should thank whomever or whatever did slaughter that arrogant ass¡¯s jivi for not doing the same to any of my guards or my gnolhounds.¡±

    Mitchell grunted his agreement, then added, ¡°And, maybe rounding up some dohas or some athis and letting them run around your grounds would be a good way to show your thanks, also.¡±

    Falen arched his eyebrow again, which he seemed to be fond of doing.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡±

    Much of the rest of the walk was spent discussing what Falen knew of guard tactics and their general preparedness level. Mitchell asked a lot of questions about civil disturbances in the past and if they were likely to have much experience in dealing with them. Falen seemed impressed by the quality of his questions.

    ¡°Are you a military strategist, or did you serve in the regional forces of this Jamka?¡±

    Mitchell chuckled.

    ¡°Not quite. But I went through a phase when I was younger where I devoured a lot of military history from my¡­ uh, from the lands around Jamka.¡±

    At last, they came full circle, arriving back at the palace¡¯s main gate. All of it awash in the pearlescent, slightly transparent shield that sparkled lightly as something small came into contact with it. Mitchell studied the open areas that, in happier times, served as a public park and garden but was now somewhat of a no-man¡¯s land that had been left to become overgrown and used only for patrolling groups of soldiers or city watch. Anyone who tried to enter the park proper was turned away immediately. Knowing he had as much as info as he could get at the moment, Mitchell probed at that connection between himself and Awen. It was something he didn¡¯t do often as he felt like it was a struggle for the elemental to focus solely on him. She had said that it was easier now that they were in Awenor, but he tried not to bother her unless he felt it was pressing.

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose there are any secret passages underneath the palace that would let us sneak in,¡± he asked Awen, once he felt that spark across their connection.

    ¡°There are not,¡± she told him, almost mournfully. ¡°In fact, the ground beneath the palace has been hardened over the years to make any attempts to tunnel beneath it or shift the ground as difficult as possible. A powerful transmutation magic user could do significant damage, otherwise.¡±

    Of course it wouldn¡¯t be that easy, Mitchell thought to himself.

    ¡°I am afraid I have some additional bad news,¡± Awen added.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°The barrier wards are failing. After our last discussion, I devoted considerable effort into examining them as closely as I could. It took many days for me to focus my awareness into the runes and the gemstones powering them. Between the occasional attacks on the barrier carried out by the forces in the city as they probe for weaknesses and the time it has been in place, it is near to failing.¡±

    ¡°Well, we are here now. Hopefully I¡¯ll be inside the palace by the end of the day tomorrow and I can complete the ritual. Will they last another day?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but that is not the problem,¡± she told him, and Mitchell could almost feel the hesitation in her voice. ¡°It is likely that you passing through the barrier will bring it down.¡±

    Mitchell felt his stomach drop into his balls.

    ¡°Oh, fuck,¡± he said aloud, which got Falen¡¯s attention, but Mitchell held up a hand to forestall any questions as he focused back on Awen.

    ¡°The plan was to pass through the barrier, hopefully with the girls, and make it to the throne room with the barrier still up,¡± he told Awen, working hard to keep the panic out of his thoughts. ¡°If the barrier comes down when we enter, we¡¯ll have every soldier in the city on our heels.¡±

    ¡°I am sorry, Mitchell. There is no way for me to reinforce it. The barrier, in allowing you passage, has to weaken a section of itself to permit you through. So many runes have degraded and so many gemstones have burned out, that I do not think it would survive the power fluctuations as it tried to reestablish itself after you gained entry.¡±

    ¡°Well, that would solve one problem, at least,¡± he told her, trying to find something positive about the situation.

    ¡°What is that?¡±

    ¡°I had worried about the girls not making it through the barrier with me. But if it¡¯s going to come down anyway, they¡¯ll be able to join me in the palace.¡±

    ¡°There is that, I suppose.¡±

    ¡°We need to get back,¡± he told Falen. ¡°I need to talk to the girls. We have a problem.¡±

    The edrokii, not liking the dour look on Mitchell¡¯s face, nodded, and they headed back to where they had parked the carriage.

 Chapter 82

    ¡°Well,¡± Mitchell said with a heavy sigh. ¡°What do you think? I don¡¯t expect I will have any trouble getting you in, but we¡¯ll likely have every soldier after us as soon as they realize what we¡¯ve done.¡±

    Allora and Lethelin sat on the bed and stared at him for several seconds as the weight of the situation settled onto their shoulders. It was Lethelin who broke the silence first.

    ¡°Balls and bloody fucking taint,¡± she said. ¡°Nothing ever goes easy.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Mitchell agreed. ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t.¡±

    He turned his attention to Allora whose brows were knit together as they often were when she was deep in thought.

    ¡°Will the shield go down immediately?¡± she finally asked.

    ¡°Awen is not sure,¡± he told her. ¡°She suspects it will flicker and begin to weaken at random points around the dome as the spell tries to reassert itself and the gemstones channeling the mana begin to fail at random. It could be as little as a couple of minutes, to maybe up to a half an hour before it collapses entirely.¡±

    ¡°That is good news, then,¡± she told him.

    ¡°How do you figure?¡± Lethelin asked. ¡°Once they see the shield start to collapse, they¡¯ll drop everything and head right for us. Even with Gilriel and her squad, we won¡¯t be able to stop them.¡±

    ¡°Once Mitchell is on the throne, it will not matter.¡±

    ¡°Okay, about that,¡± Mitchell cut in. ¡°I know it¡¯s supposed to envelop me somehow, but what then?¡±

    ¡°My apologies, you are right. I should have told you weeks ago, but there always seemed to be a more important topic to discuss. It is not that complicated, however. The throne is not made of metal, or wood, it is made of pure onyx. It was grown by Awen in her geode and is a living part of her.¡±

    ¡°I thought that was a myth,¡± Lethelin said. ¡°That would be worth the price of a kingdom alone.¡±

    ¡°It is no myth,¡± she told the thief before looking back to Mitchell. ¡°Once you sit in the throne and you are ensconced within, her power will flow into you. It has made your body strong enough to withstand the transfer. Once it is complete, everything will be amplified.¡±

    ¡°More than I already have been?¡±

    Allora nodded.

    ¡°But it is more than that. You will be able to connect with Awen more directly and, through her, to the land itself. You will be able to feel it. I do not know how it is done, but you will sense the land in a similar way to her, if you try. In the past, this is how the monarchs were able to aid in the defense of the kingdom and what made it so difficult to attack us. You will be able to feel where troops are. You can direct your commanders. It would be impossible to move large forces of enemy soldiers through our territory without you sensing it. Working with Awen, you would even be able to bend the land to its own defense in some limited ways.¡±

    Mitchell was stunned by that revelation. Such knowledge could make his forces almost unbeatable. To always know where the enemy¡¯s troops were, to always be ready to meet them, to never be caught off guard by troop movements or where they were gathered for an attack? It started to make sense to him now why, after Iletish was defeated, none of the other seven kingdoms ever tried to attack again. They would literally have nowhere to hide, their every movement would be felt.

    ¡°But there is a more immediate benefit,¡± she told him, breaking through his thoughts.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°Once the full bonding is complete, you will be able to activate the palace defenses.¡±

    ¡°If the palace has such good defenses, how were they able to take it the first time?¡± Lethelin asked, almost demanding.

    ¡°Because of how they struck,¡± she said. ¡°The monarch must be on the throne to use these powers. It connects them to the palace. Milandris¡¯s forces attacked late at night. They worked through spies, snuck soldiers in disguised as workers, servants, laborers, delivery people. Baylor was not on the throne and we had no warning. He was killed before he ever made it out of his quarters.¡±

    ¡°Wait, so all of that exact stuff has to be done from the throne?¡± Mitchell asked.

    ¡°Your physical and magical improvements will be a part of you,¡± Allora explained. ¡°But your access to the knowledge of the land, your ability to work with Awen to devise strategies for how to use it to our advantage, and ¨C in this case ¨C control the palace defenses, must be done while you are sitting on the throne.¡±

    That revelation destroyed Mitchell¡¯s hopes of being a general that led from the front. If he wanted to have maximum advantage, he would have to somehow coordinate from Lorivin. He wasn¡¯t sure he was comfortable with that. Then a thought occurred to him. He reached out to Awen.

    ¡°I thought you could already alter the land,¡± he asked her. ¡°Why do I need to be in the chair for you to do that?¡±

    ¡°My power works slowly,¡± she said, and Mitchell could almost detect a note of frustration in her voice. ¡°The collapse of the cliff I told you about before, do you remember it?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°It took several weeks of preparation. I had to direct roots go grow in such a way as would weaken the rocks. I had to try and channel ground water up from deep below the earth to weaken the base. And I had to time it such that it would only collapse when his casters were passing by. I identified the route his reinforcements most often traveled and was able to plan accordingly. My power does not work the same as yours, but by combining our two different kinds of magic, we can aid each other.¡±

    ¡°So, what will I be able to do when we are joined?¡±

    ¡°Channeling your mana through the throne and into me will allow me to harness those forces directly. I can use your mana to effect things much faster. Instead of taking a month to saturate the soil beneath where his soldiers are camped it could be done in a day. But even that is limited by how much mana you can provide.¡±

    Mitchell took a moment to process that while the girls waited. They had learned to recognize when he was in conversation with Awen and waited patiently, knowing he would tell them when he was done.

    ¡°Okay, I think I understand,¡± he told her, and broke the connection.

    Once he was done explaining what he had learned Mitchell asked about the palace defense.

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    ¡°There are several layers, but perhaps the most formidable will be the Guardians on the walls, and the Defenders within.¡±

    ¡°Falen told me about those,¡± Mitchell said with interest. ¡°He said they were supposed to protect the palace if it came under attack but it sounded like he didn¡¯t believe it. Especially since they hadn¡¯t activated during the coup two years ago. But if they only work if the monarch is on the throne¡­¡±

    ¡°They have not been activated since the war with Iletish centuries ago. Many people probably assume that it is just a legend at this point. But they will answer the monarch¡¯s call.¡±

    Mitchell tried to imagine a small army of 15-20ft stone golems marching under his orders. The idea almost made him giddy.

    ¡°And what are the Defenders?¡± he asked.

    ¡°They are smaller statues throughout the palace and the grounds. They function much the same way as the Defenders do, but they are less powerful. Still, there are more of them. And there are offensive and defensive runes all through the palace that can be activated from the throne to strike at enemies if they manage to breach the walls.¡±

    ¡°That sounds amazing,¡± Lethelin said, a note of awe in her voice.

    ¡°It is. Much of the improvements were made after the war with Iletish and, even though they have never been utilized as we never faced invasion again, the protections were always maintained. Every knight in the academy spends time learning about them and even how to maintain some of the more basic ones should repairs be necessary. They are our last line of defense.¡±

    ¡°So, as long as I can get to the throne and complete the bond, we¡¯ll be okay?¡±

    Allora nodded.

    ¡°In theory, anyway. We will still have to hold the great hall, where the throne is located, while you are being fully bonded with Awen. If we are overrun, they could destroy the throne while you are in the midst of the transfer and it would likely kill you.¡±

    ¡°No pressure, then?¡± Mitchell asked sardonically. ¡°How long does it usually take?¡±

    ¡°I do not know. It will depend on you, I think. On how quickly you can withstand the bonding process and if you are able to recover quickly enough after to be of use to us. I¡ª¡±

    Just then, there was a light knock on the door of the basement where they were sitting.

    ¡°Enter,¡± Mitchell said, looking behind him to the door.

    It opened slowly and Mitchell saw small fingers curl around the door and then a small girl with glistening honey-blonde hair the color of a Kansas wheat field followed soon after. The girl¡¯s wide, sparkling hazel eyes took in the room nervously until she spotted Lethelin.

    ¡°Your package has arrived, Miss Leth. Miss Cenedra said I should bring it to you.¡±

    Mitchell and Allora both looked to Lethelin who shrugged.

    ¡°What? I needed some things.¡±

    The thief waved the girl in.

    ¡°Come meet my friends, Eraphys.¡±

    The young girl stepped into the room, closing the door behind her, and Mitchell got a proper look at her. She was tall for her age, and she had the kind of fresh-face that would blossom into beauty when she was older. Her eyes were large and expressive and glittered in that way that Mitchell now understood was unique to people who were half human and half elf. Falen¡¯s blue eyes had the same quality, and so did this girl. Her body was a little gangly, but he thought that, if he gave her a few years, she would likely be as tall as Allora, or nearly so.

    She looked nervously at Mitchell, but stood tall and met his gaze, giving him a small bow. Then she looked at Allora and some of the color drained from her face, but again she bowed slightly.

    ¡°Eraphys, this is Mitchell and this is Allora.¡±

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s blessings on you, my lord Mitchell. And on you, my lady Allora.¡±

    Allora raised one dark eyebrow and looked at the thief.

    ¡°She is quite well-mannered. What is she doing with you?¡±

    The tone was lofty, but the small grin on Allora¡¯s face was playful.

    ¡°I just haven¡¯t beat it out of her yet,¡± Lethelin said.

    The girl sucked in a breath but didn¡¯t comment.

    ¡°Oh, relax, silly girl. No one is going to beat you. I was just joking. Let me see what you brought.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Miss Leth.¡±

    The girl stepped forward and held out a small package wrapped in a coarse-looking brown paper and tied securely with twine.

    ¡°Is Cenedra keeping you busy upstairs?¡± Lethelin asked her, as she pulled a tiny knife from somewhere on her person and cut the twine. Then she slid the edge along the paper and pulled the wrapping off, revealing a dark lacquered box with a two crossed tridents burned into the grain.

    ¡°Yes, Miss Leth,¡± Eraphys nodded, staring at the box curiously. ¡°I am helping the staff prepare the common room for meals. Everyone is very nice.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re looking much better now after a bath, I see. How are the scratches?¡±

    Eraphys held out her arms and pulled back the sleeves of the simple cotton shirt she wore. Mitchell could see several small scratches and bite marks that were scabbed over, and others that had the rosy color of new flesh.

    ¡°The cream that Miss Cenedra gave me is helping a lot,¡± the girl said with a smile. ¡°They don¡¯t even itch anymore.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Lethelin said, before patting the bed next to her. ¡°Come sit, I want to show you something.¡±

    Eraphys glanced at Mitchell and then at Allora, who was sitting on the bed also, but did as she was asked, sitting with a little bounce on the mattress between the two women.

    With care, Lethelin slid the lid of the lacquered box open, revealing a small collection of several small vials, as well as a some pouches and what almost looked like a small chemistry set that had been disassembled and nestled into the box. Eraphys¡¯s liquid eyes widened at the site.

    ¡°This is a standard poisoner¡¯s kit,¡± Lethelin explained. ¡°Although I have asked for a few specialty items.¡±

    ¡°Lethelin,¡± Allora hissed at the revelation. ¡°Is that the proper thing to be showing to a young girl?¡±

    The assassin looked up at the knight.

    ¡°The girl can¡¯t go into her father¡¯s trade now, and she needs a new one. It might as well be this one. She¡¯s my first recruit.¡±

    ¡°Your what?¡±

    It was then that Mitchell realized that, in all the commotion of the last several days, he had never explained what Lethelin¡¯s role would be if they pulled this off.

    ¡°I¡¯ll explain later,¡± Mitchell told Allora quickly.

    Allora looked at him hard, as if she could extract the information from his brain through the power of her glare alone, but she didn¡¯t challenge him.

    ¡°This,¡± Lethelin continued, pulling a black vial from among the collection, ¡°is skitterback blood. Never, ever open this in the sunlight unless you have decided that you don¡¯t want your fingers anymore. But...¡± Lethelin paused, searching among the vials and checking labels until she found the one she wanted, ¡°if you mix it with fire drake blood, two-to-one, and place it inside a glass arrowhead, do you know what you get?¡±

    Eraphys wobbled her head, eyes alight and eager.

    ¡°No, Miss Leth.¡±

    ¡°You get an explosive arrowhead that will blow a hole the size of a orc¡¯s hand in plate armor and into the body beyond it. It won¡¯t work in the dark though. Needs to be outside in the sunlight. Only use black glass or obsidian arrowheads for it. Anything else and they will blow up in your hand as soon as the sunlight hits it. Understand?¡±

    Eraphys nodded enthusiastically.

    ¡°Yes, Miss Leth.¡±

    ¡°Good. That¡¯s your lesson for today. Do what Cenedra of her staff tells you and I¡¯ll teach you more tomorrow. Now, scoot. Back to work with you, or I¡¯ll have that hand. My shadow cat hasn¡¯t had little girl meat in awhile and he¡¯s been bothering me for another treat. Don¡¯t give me a reason.¡±

    Eraphys giggled and Allora nearly choked.

    ¡°Yes, Miss Leth,¡±

    Then she hopped off the bed, gave a small bow to Mitchell and Allora, and hurried out of the room.

    Lethelin got up, cradling the large box, and went over to the writing desk, shooing Mitchell out of the chair so she could use it.

    ¡°Where did you get that?¡± Mitchell asked her as she settled in and started taking out various different bottles and erecting the little chemistry set.

    ¡°I asked Falen to get it for me. Mine is in Varset. There are some things I want if we¡¯re going into battle.¡±

    Allora stepped up beside Mitchell, watching the thief work.

    ¡°Is it safe to be in here while you do that?¡±

    Lethelin paused as she was screwing together a stand of some sort.

    ¡°Actually, maybe I should see if Cenedra has an open room upstairs. Something with a window. Since you can¡¯t leave the room, it might be better if I go up there.¡±

    Lethelin gave a bashful grin, and began to pack everything back up. Another knock came at the door then. Mitchell walked over and opened it to find Cenedra.

    ¡°It¡¯s started,¡± the woman said. ¡°Reports are beginning to filter in. The watch is going crazy.¡±

    ¡°See,¡± Mitchell said to Allora. ¡°I told you it would work.¡±

    Allora grinned.

    ¡°But how did you know?¡± she asked him in return.

    ¡°It happens all the time on my world. Whenever someone famous is wanted by the po¡ªby the watch, people call in tips all day, saying they saw them at a restaurant, or in a park, or in a market. And the watch have to chase down each one. It¡¯s even worse when there is a big reward offered. Falen¡¯s people have spread all throughout the city and they¡¯re reporting sightings of you at every opportunity. The authorities are going to be run ragged, exhausted, and numb by this time tomorrow. The angrier they get, the more likely they are to lash out at the people. That will stoke resentment in the city and make them eager to push back. Then the real fun begins.¡±

    Allora laughed and kissed him on the cheek.

    ¡°Have I told you how sexy you are when you¡¯re clever, my lord?¡±

 Chapter 83

    ¡°With everything going on, I didn¡¯t get a chance to ask you what you thought about the deal I made with Falen.¡±

    Allora looked up from the fruit she was eating for breakfast. Beside the small platter of berries and the local equivalent of grapes, called bashos, there was also a small bowl of a porridge made from a grain similar to barley. Mitchell had become fond of it right away. The one this morning had been prepared with athi and some root vegetables.

    Since Lethelin was off this morning with Falen putting the final bits of preparation in place, and Allora was still confined to their basement hideaway, the two of them finally had a moment to themselves. The fact that she hadn¡¯t brought it up was something that Mitchell wasn¡¯t sure was a good thing or a bad thing, but now was likely the last quiet time they would get before everything kicked off.

    Upon hearing his question, she paused mid-chew and gave him her signature flat look. Mitchell held his breath, ready to endure her anger at letting a known edrokii have the services of the palace, even if the crime lord in question was an old acquaintance. The moment stretched and then a most surprising thing happened. Her face softened and she started to chew again. Mitchell immediately felt the knot of fear in his gut begin to unbind itself. He had learned to read her expressions well enough by now that he could tell she was not about to go off on a rant.

    Finally, she spoke.

    ¡°I will admit that I did not like it,¡± she said, her voice measured. ¡°My first instinct was to forbid it, and I nearly had to bite my tongue to keep my mouth closed.¡±

    Mitchell grunted, but remained silent. That was as expected and, despite himself, he was prepared to argue the point. Then, she surprised him yet again.

    ¡°But, that is not my place. You did not ask for my council and, had you done so, I would have likely said you should not make such a deal with him. If word got out that the palace was in league with one of these edrokii, it could be very problematic. You will rule by right of the bond with Awen, but the support from the nobility is still vital in the management of Awen¡¯s land.¡±

    Mitchell nodded his understanding.

    ¡°However,¡± she continued, her tone softening, ¡°It was you who salvaged the situation that was very quickly going down the dragon¡¯s throat. If Vras had gotten ahold of Falen¡¯s men, I do not think we would have made it out of the warehouse alive. You bargained with the only currency you had and I know you would have done otherwise if you could have. And, if I am being very honest, I did not have any better idea for how we could get out of that building without either most of them dying, or us. I could not have done better, nor do I think Lethelin could have.¡±

    Allora paused, as if she was choosing her next words carefully.

    ¡°I trust your judgement, Mitchell Allen. It was a good deal and I think it saved our lives.¡±

    She smiled at him then and reached across the little table to grasp his hand. Mitchell could feel the callouses of all her years of hard training that had forged her into a weapon that could make even the strongest and bravest warriors hesitate. That he had earned the love, trust, and respect of such a woman was at times difficult for him to comprehend.

    Mitchell felt a warmth spread through him at her words. He thought back to his early days here, how helpless he¡¯d been, unable to even speak to anyone. He was like a baby in so many ways, jumping at shadows, unable to contribute or offer advice. He couldn¡¯t even aid in his own defense. His memories of that first battle when they¡¯d been freed and how he had had to sit it out entirely, letting others fight for him, made him ashamed. Telling himself that¡ªrealistically¡ªthere was nothing at all he could have done was cold comfort. Not only had he been weak, beaten, bruised, and half starved, he didn¡¯t even know how to hold a blade back then. Nothing beyond the understanding that the pointy end goes into the other man. And here he was now, about to lead a rebellion to reclaim a city and Allora and Lethelin were going into combat beside him.

    ¡°Why are you smiling?¡± Allora asked him popping a slice of gawan into her mouth.

    ¡°I just feel lucky, that¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°We are hours away from a battle to retake the palace, vastly outnumbered and we stand a good chance of death or capture, and you feel lucky?¡± She chuckled at the absurdity of it all. ¡°Maybe that word means something else on your Earp.¡±

    Mitchell laughed, too and¡ªchoosing not to correct her pronunciation of his planet ¨C poked at the food on his plate.

    ¡°I¡¯m right where I¡¯m supposed to be and with the person I¡¯m supposed to be with. Maybe we will die. But if so, I will know that I died fighting for something worth dying for.¡±

    When Mitchell looked back into her eyes, he saw they were wet with tears and she was smiling.

    ¡°Thank you, Mitchell.¡±

    ***

    ¡°Name¡¯s Khardin, my lord, aye. Khardin De Drakehorn. I was first sergeant of the third mountain division oh, about forty years back, it was, aye.¡±

    Mitchell looked the old dwarf up and down. He was wearing regular worker¡¯s garb, but his military bearing was unmistakable. He was broad across the shoulders, nearly twice as wide as Mitchell, and a squat five and a half feet tall. His face was broad, flat, and filled with crags that looked like cracked clay. His once-red trinket-filled beard was now shot through with streaks of gray and white and his nose looked to have been broken several times. Shale-gray eyes glittered out of his tan face and they appraised Mitchell right back.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s blessings upon you, sergeant,¡± Mitchell told him, trying to mimic the formal speech he had heard Allora use. ¡°Thank you for returning to aid us in this fight.¡±

    Khardin grunted.

    ¡°Truth be told, my lord, it was no struggle to return, aye. Once I heard the call, I came with all speed. We¡¯ll drive out these dirt-licking clanless sons of fishwives, aye, we will!¡±

    ¡°We will,¡± Mitchell nodded. Then looked to the next Onyx Knight.

    ¡°Vanthella Ne Astin, my lord Mitchell. First Lieutenant of the palace guard before I left the service roughly twenty years ago. I am honored take up the blade once more.¡±

    Recognizing the signs now, Mitchell could recognize Vanthella as a half-elf. She was handsome more than beautiful and looked to be in her fifties as far as humans measured such things. Although, Mitchell admitted, he didn¡¯t know what that would mean for a half-elf. She had long auburn hair, also streaked with gray, pulled back into a tight ponytail that went midway down her back.

    She had a small web of crow¡¯s feet around glassy, pale-green eyes and a scar running down the left side of her face that began above her eye and continued to her jaw. Laugh lines framed a full mouth that was now flat and firm. Although she was wearing what appeared to be little more a sturdy traveling dress, she stood as if in full plate armor, tall and proud.

    ¡°I am honored to have you at my side,¡± Mitchell told her sincerely.

    And so it went as Mitchell greeted the three others that had shown up with Gilriel at The Mighty Nine that afternoon. Besides Vanthella and Khardin, there was a halfling named Hackett and a pair of twin elves, Eldrick and his sister, Elrin. All of them were at least middle-aged, but looked to have kept up their physical training. Each walked with a firm step and stood tall in simple clothing, none with their weapons.

    ¡°Those are being smuggled in,¡± Gilriel had told Mitchell when he commented on it. ¡°There¡¯s no way we could get our blades through the gates with the watch on high alert. I¡¯m told that your guild contact should have them here before nightfall.¡±

    ¡°I wish that I could introduce you to your Lord Captain, but we won¡¯t all fit downstairs and we can¡¯t risk her coming out in the open where she could be located until it is time to move,¡± Mitchell told them. ¡°But, once we are done here, I will send you each down one at a time, so that you can introduce yourselves.¡±

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    Elrin looked over at Gilriel.

    ¡°So you were not joking then,¡± she asked. ¡°You named Travelor¡¯s daughter the Lord Captain?¡±

    ¡°I did,¡± Gilriel replied tersely. ¡°And I¡¯ll cross blades with any who questions my decision.¡±

    ¡°She is but a girl,¡± Eldrick said, mirroring the credulity in his sister¡¯s tone. ¡°Surely, it would be better for you to take up that mantle, my lady. You have the most experience, by far. You served on the Council of Eight.¡±

    Elrin nodded her agreement and he saw the dwarf and the halfling shift slightly at the words, but whether in support or disagreement with the elf¡¯s sentiment, he couldn¡¯t be sure. Vanthella remained still. Either way, Mitchell knew he had to stop this immediately.

    Before Gilriel could respond, Mitchell stepped forward, directly in front of Eldrick and forced the elf to meet his gaze. The man stiffened at the sudden intrusion into his personal space but he didn¡¯t take a step back.

    ¡°Master Eldrick,¡± Mitchell said, letting his anger bleed into his words, ¡°Allora Den Annen is your lord commander. She was named so by the last member of the Council of Eight, and not only does she have my blessing, but she has Awen¡¯s as well. You will serve her as you would have her father and any other lord commander, or there will be no need for you to wait for your blade. You will forfeit it to me and I will expel you from the order right here and now. Do I make myself clear?¡±

    Mitchell saw the steel behind Eldrick¡¯s coppery-red eyes and could see the anger wash over his features at being challenged so directly. For just a moment, Mitchell thought the old knight was going to swing at him but Mitchell didn¡¯t budge. He stood firm and met the elf¡¯s glare daring him to challenge his authority. After a very tense few seconds, it was Eldrick who relented.

    ¡°Yes, my lord Mitchell. I will serve with honor and distinction. I give my word, under Stollar¡¯s holy light.¡±

    Then he took a step back, touched his hand to his heart, his lips, and his forehead, and bowed.

    Mitchell turned his glare to Elrin, the first who had challenged Allora¡¯s position. She immediately mimicked her brother¡¯s actions.

    ¡°Yes, my lord Mitchell. I, too, will serve with honor and distinction. I give my word, under Stollar¡¯s holy light.¡±

    Mitchell looked at the other three, all mute and standing at attention.

    ¡°If anyone wishes to challenge Allora¡¯s right to her position, do it now,¡± he told them. ¡°You can pick up your pack and be on your way. But if you wish to stay and fight for Awen, I never want to hear this spoken of again. I will have your oath or I will have your blade. Decide now.¡±

    Khardin, Hackett, and Vanthella each spoke their oath and bowed in turn. Mitchell accepted each gratefully and then, importing an Earth custom, shook their hands in turn. It was obvious they didn¡¯t know the meaning of the gesture, but they seemed to pick up the intent behind it quickly enough.

    ¡°Before we begin to plan for tomorrow, I would like each of you to meet with Allora. Elrin, if you would follow Eraphys downstairs, I know that the lord captain is eager to meet you.¡±

    The older knight actually blushed a little at being chosen to go first, but she did not protest.

    ¡°Of course, my lord Mitchell. It would be my honor.¡±

    Mitchell gave her a genuine thanks, which she seemed to take to heart.

    ¡°I think you will see very quickly why Gilriel made the decision she did,¡± he told her quietly as she stepped up.

    ¡°I am sure it will be as you say, my lord. Lady Gilriel is wise. I apologize for my hesitation in trusting her judgement.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s alright. I will need the wisdom and guidance of all of you going forward.¡±

    Elrin nodded.

    Mitchell signaled Eraphys forward, and the girl came, eyes still wide at the world she now found herself in.

    ¡°Please show lady Elrin down to Allora¡¯s quarters,¡± he told her.

    Eraphys nodded and turned to Elrin.

    ¡°This way, m¡¯lady.¡±

    She grinned at the child and followed Eraphys out of the inn¡¯s courtyard. Gilriel stepped up to him, then.

    ¡°That was well done,¡± she told him in a low tone. ¡°I figured one of those two would challenge the decision. They always were a bit obstinate.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t have anyone second guessing things once the fighting starts,¡± Mitchell told her. ¡°Too much is at stake. I¡¯m fine with listening to advice, but if an order is given, it needs to be followed. They have to respect the chain of command.¡±

    ¡°The... chain? That¡¯s an interesting expression,¡± Gilriel said with a grin. ¡°Your world does have some clever phrases.¡±

    Mitchell shrugged.

    As each of the knights went down to speak with Allora, Mitchell was also sitting and talking with them, getting an idea for their skills and weaknesses. Eldrick and Elrin were perhaps the most versatile, with Eldrick having three mana types and his sister having four, making them both warlocks. The rest of the group had at least two or three magic types, each, as well as decades of study under their belts. Old they might be, but they were a powerful group and Mitchell almost felt giddy at the prospect of seeing them work together as a unit. Watching Allora fight was impressive enough, but this? Mitchell felt like he was standing around with the all-stars and he was their coach.

    Hackett was skilled with a short bow and an accomplished healer. Vanthella wielded two short swords, only one of which had one of Awen¡¯s gemstones, and she was a powerful abjuration and conjuration user. Khardin¡¯s weapon of choice was a battle axe and he was skilled with transmutation, evocation, and enchantment. Once they had their weapons and armor smuggled in, they would truly be a formidable force.

    One-by-one they went down to speak with Allora while the rest of them stayed in the courtyard to discuss strategy throughout the afternoon. Mitchell went down once to check on Allora and, while she was frustrated by the necessity of having to stay in the warded basement, she hadn¡¯t let it dampen her spirits. Each member of the team returned from their meeting with Allora looking reassured, and Mitchell took that as a good sign. She had won them over.

    Throughout the afternoon, reports filtered in of the effects of the opening stages of Mitchell¡¯s plan. Small skirmishes were breaking out all over the city between angry residents and city watch or soldiers. Resentment had been building for a long time and it had not been hard at all to play on that anger. The reports of Allora sightings were only increasing, as per the plan, and rumors were spreading that a secret contingent of Onyx Knights were marching to take back the city. Numbers varied from ten to a thousand and, while few would believe the more outlandish claims, such as their being led by a dragon, or that all the kingdoms of Tewadunn were marching to the defense of the besieged nation, Mitchell knew that hearing the same stories repeated again and again, even if some of them were unbelievable, would lend credence to the idea that something was happening. The energy would grow as the day wore on. Then at night, the insurgency would start.

    Towards dusk, a haggard Lethelin returned, with a small wagon being pulled by a single jivi. Inn staff were called to bring in the crates with all quickness and she came out into the courtyard and threw herself into an empty chair with a huff.

    ¡°Balls and fucking taint,¡± she said as Mitchell sat next to her. ¡°It¡¯s getting a little crazy out there.¡±

    ¡°All part of the plan,¡± he reassured her. ¡°By tomorrow morning whatever forces are on patrol in the city will be exhausted, distracted, overworked, and at the end of their ropes. Falen is really coming through on his part of the deal.¡±

    Lethelin gave him a sidelong glance.

    ¡°How do you know this? I thought you were some sort of clerk that did math all day. You said you never served in any sort of military.¡±

    ¡°I read a lot when I was younger,¡± he told her. ¡°My civilization has a long history of civil disobedience and something we call insurgency.¡±

    Mitchell had to revert to the English word there, not knowing if Common even had a word for such a modern form of warfare. He watched as the petite assassin tried to get her mouth around the foreign term.

    ¡°Big armies and even the city watch know how to deal with other big armies or large, coordinated groups,¡± he continued. ¡°But they don¡¯t do very well fighting asymmetric warfare. My nation had to learn that the hard way, more than once.¡±

    ¡°Asssymtic... huh?¡±

    Mitchell chuckled.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. It¡¯s how we¡¯re going to beat them.¡±

    While it was true that Mitchell had never served in the military, his flirtations with joining as a teen had prompted him to read a lot about military history and tactics. As near as he could tell, the people of this planet still fought in a largely medieval style, with spell casters serving as a sort of long-range artillery or crowd control in some fights, or working as siege breakers. Often battles would be decided on who could best utilize a combination of martial forces and magic users, working in tandem to create opportunities for the other. But, at the end of the day, it still seemed to him that the tactics were largely reliant on getting big groups of soldiers together in the middle of a field and smashing them into each other.

    From what he¡¯d been told, there hadn¡¯t been many big wars in the last century or two. Border skirmishes often broke out between nations, and there were battles with pirate clans on the seas, or some warlord who wanted to try and take over a section of an existing kingdom but, even then, they were small affairs, usually only involving a few thousand troops at best. Mitchell surmised that the powers-that-be would be completely unprepared to deal with a small insurgency force that disrupted vital services and then melted away into the crowd before the dust settled. Falen had taken some convincing when he¡¯d first discussed the idea with him but, in the end, he¡¯d agreed to have his forces begin the very dawn following their arrival.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s working so far,¡± Lethelin said with a tired grin. ¡°We passed a lot of abandoned guard posts getting here as they were off dealing with some disturbance or small riot. The small-time thieves are feasting, as well. A lot of shops have simply closed up rather than risk getting robbed with no watch around to deal with it. Those that have private security are still operating.¡±

    Mitchell grimaced at the report as he watched Gilriel and the rest of the Onyx Knights begin to uncrate their weapons and armor. From over the high walls of the inn¡¯s courtyard he could hear bells ringing and people shouting. He didn¡¯t like hearing that innocents were being hurt by the chaos that was growing in the city, but, with luck, it would be over by tomorrow night.

    Gilriel approached then, carrying a bundle and her sword.

    ¡°It is all here, my lord,¡± she told him with a grim smile.

    ¡°Good,¡± he told her. ¡°Everyone should get what rest they can. We move at dawn tomorrow. It¡¯s going to be a long day.¡±

    Gilriel saluted, hand to heart, lip, and brow. Mitchell stood and repeated the gesture. Then he held his hand out to Lethelin. She took it and let herself be pulled up out of the chair.

    ¡°Come on,¡± he told the weary girl. ¡°Let¡¯s get you some food and a bath.¡±

    Lethelin groaned and leaned into him as they headed inside.

 Chapter 84

    ¡°Up already?¡± Mitchell asked.

    Allora turned to see him laying there, eyes open, with Lethelin snuggled and snoring lightly on the far side of the bed. It had been her hope that she could slip out without waking either of them, but she should have known better. Mitchell always seemed to know. She smiled.

    ¡°I wish to say my prayers to Vish this morning. I will return when I am done. Do not worry.¡±

    ¡°How did you sleep?¡±

    ¡°As well as I could. Having you close helped.¡±

    Allora sat back down on the edge of the bed and her hand found his, gripping it tightly.

    ¡°I have not had the dreams since our time together at the spring,¡± Allora told him as she let her fingers trace his palm. ¡°I have not known such peaceful sleep since before Milandris came.¡±

    Mitchell eased Lethelin¡¯s arm off himself and sat up. Lethelin stirred but didn¡¯t awaken.

    ¡°Cut you...¡± the thief mumbled to herself as her body curled into a fetal position in Mitchell¡¯s absence. ¡°And more gawan cakes or the jivi will mount your mother.¡±

    They both grinned at the sleeping woman.

    Mitchell leaned forward and their heads came together.

    ¡°I guess that means we¡¯ll need to sleep together every night forever,¡± he told her his voice filling her insides with warm honey.

    ¡°As my lord commands,¡± she told him, her lips brushing his.

    ¡°Go,¡± he told her as they came apart. ¡°Say a prayer to Vish for me, as well.¡±

    ¡°I always do.¡±

    They separated and Allora exited quietly through the door and headed up the stairs towards the inn¡¯s ground floor. Just the idea of being outside again made her heart beat a little faster. She¡¯d been in the warded bedroom for three days now and, even though she understood the necessity of it, it had still been stressful.

    Emerging from the stairs she was shocked to see two others sitting in the inn¡¯s common room, all wearing sleeping clothes. Both women stood at her entrance and bowed.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s blessings upon you, Lord Captain,¡± Elrin said into the morning quiet.

    ¡°Good morning to you, Lord Captain,¡± Gilriel said in turn.

    The title still sat strangely upon her shoulders, but she knew better than to try and refuse it or to insist that they call her Allora. Not on a day like today, at any rate. So rather than try to play it off, she returned their bow with one of her own, though not nearly as low.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s blessings to you, as well. I see I am not the only one that wishes to pray this morning.

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Gilriel said, smiling. ¡°I have been waiting for you. Cenedra has a small shrine in her courtyard that we can pray at, if the Lord Captain wishes.¡±

    Allora nodded her agreement and followed the two women outside.

    ¡°Does Eldrick not wish to pray as well?¡± Allora asked Eldrin as they stepped into the pre-dawn darkness of the courtyard. Vish, though too low for them to make out from their place in the city, still illuminated the sky to the west. Allora detected the smell of smoke on the breeze. There had been fires in the night.

    ¡°My brother has always been a deep sleeper before a battle, my lady. But I will rouse him if you wish it.¡±

    Allora smiled.

    ¡°No, that is not necessary.¡±

    The three knights made there way down the small path through the inn¡¯s courtyard to where Cenedra had constructed her shrines. She saw that one had been constructed for each of the gods. Allora and the other two women knelt down on the soft grass in front of Vish¡¯s shrine, each of them lowering their foreheads to the earth and breathing in the scent of the still air.

    Allora didn¡¯t know what the others might be praying for, but she imagined it was not that dissimilar from her own wishes. As she repeated the words her mother had taught her all those years ago, she felt the peace of the shrine wash over her. Her heartbeat began to slow, her mind began to quiet, and she thought she could feel Vish¡¯s grace settle upon her.

    ¡°Lady Vish, goddess of my mother¡¯s people, your humble servant greets you. We come to it at last, and I beg for your guidance this day.¡±

    ***

    ¡°What¡¯s that one do?¡± Eraphys asked as Lethelin pushed the stopper into the vial and placed it back inside the box.

    Lethelin glanced up sharply at the door to the vacant room where she had been making her various poisons in preparation for the fight ahead.

    ¡°What are you doing up?¡±

    The young half-elf girl fidgeted before answering. Her hair was a mess and her eyes were still heavy with sleep.

    ¡°I just... if you¡¯re going to fight today, I want to fight, too. I¡¯ve been practicing with the dagger you gave me. I didn¡¯t cut myself at all yesterday.¡±

    Lethelin smiled a little and focused back on her preparations. Every blade she had was arranged on a cloth in front of her, as well as the arrows she¡¯d managed to construct in the time available. The armor-piercing one she¡¯d told Eraphys about was only one of the things she¡¯d been able to make.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be silly, girl. I can¡¯t bring you into this fight. You¡¯ll stay here with Cenedra and do as you¡¯re told. When the battle is over, I¡¯ll send for you.¡±

    ¡°But...¡± Eraphys trailed off.

    When Lethelin looked up, she saw the girl¡¯s eyes were moist.

    ¡°But?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going into the palace with Lord Mitchell and Lady Allora. What if you don¡¯t come out again, like my...?¡±

    Lethelin remembered then what the girl had told her about her parents. They had gone up to the palace for a delivery the night of the coup and never returned, likely killed in the battle that broke out there. Lethelin felt a stab of sympathy for the girl. With a sigh, she began to slide her blades back into their sheaths careful not to touch the edges. It felt good to have them in their proper place again. Most of them had been tucked away in her pack for far too long.

    ¡°Come here, girl.¡±

    Eraphys stepped into the room and then sat on the floor next to Lethelin.

    ¡°Did you ever see the Onyx Knights fight before the old monarch was killed?¡±

    Eraphys wobbled her head.

    ¡°I only saw them on the streets sometimes. They never fought in festival games like the guardsmen did.¡±

    ¡°Do you know why?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Because they¡¯re too good. I would put any single knight against ten city guardsmen.¡±

    ¡°I know I¡¯m only twelve high suns old, but I¡¯m not stupid,¡± Eraphys said and pushed at Lethelin. ¡°Ten?¡±

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    ¡°Ten,¡± Lethelin confirmed. ¡°They train their whole lives. There is a reason none of the other kingdoms have tried to take Awenor since the war with Iletish. It¡¯s because they were all afraid of the knights.¡±

    ¡°But they were all killed before,¡± Eraphys said, her voice quiet, yet still challenging.

    ¡°Many were killed, but not all,¡± Lethelin corrected. ¡°And that was through some deep treachery. But you know what¡¯s worse than an Onyx Knight?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°An angry Onyx Knight. And Lady Allora is very angry. Milandris has been hunting for her for two years because he¡¯s afraid of what she could do. He sent all those soldiers into the city thinking he was only looking for one Onyx Knight because he knows how powerful they are. And we don¡¯t just have one angry knight, we have seven.¡±

    Eraphys pondered this for a moment.

    ¡°Do you really think that will be enough?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be charging into battle if I thought I was going to lose. It¡¯s not going to be easy, but I think we can make it.¡±

    ¡°Okay...¡± Eraphys said reluctantly.

    ¡°And while I¡¯m out there, you stay here. Keep the knife hidden, and if anyone comes in that doesn¡¯t belong, you stick them where I showed you to stick them. Help Cenedra keep this place safe.¡±

    Eraphys nodded.

    ¡°Now, to answer your first question, this is called witch bane.¡±

    Lethelin pulled the small bottle she¡¯d recently stoppered and held it out to Eraphys.

    ¡°I apply some to the edge of these two daggers here,¡± Lethelin explained and held up two small simple daggers with four-inch blades. ¡°If I think I¡¯m likely to be fighting a magic user and I can¡¯t avoid it, I try to cut them with one of these. They¡¯re weighted for throwing, as well.¡±

    ¡°They look awful small. Can you kill someone with these?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to kill them with these, I just want to cut them. Witch bane confuses them, makes it hard for them to focus on their magic. You have to be extra careful with magic users because you never know what kind of spells they can cast at you. It¡¯s best not to fight them head on at all, but if you have to, witch bane can slow them down, make it really hard or almost impossible for them to use their magic. They can¡¯t concentrate on their runes and spells.¡±

    ¡°Oh! Like if they¡¯re drunk?¡±

    ¡°Something like that. But even a drunk caster can still cast some spells if they¡¯re good. Witch bane clouds up their inner sight, the thing that helps them visualize their magic spells. I¡¯ve got both edges coated on these, so I can slice four times, once for each edge, or give a double dose if I have to throw it.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t throwing the knife kill them anyway?¡±

    ¡°Not necessarily. What if you only hit an arm or a leg? The poison ensures that any wound I can inflict will all but guarantee that they can¡¯t use their magic on me. Then I can kill them if I need to.¡±

    Eraphys nodded her understanding.

    ¡°What about that one?¡±

    Lethelin looked at the red vial that Eraphys was pointing to.

    ¡°That one? That one is particularly nasty.¡±

    ***

    Mitchell stared at himself in the room¡¯s mirror. His freshly shaven face looked back at him, appearing calm and unconcerned. Mitchell thought that was some sort of cruel joke because he certainly didn¡¯t feel that way. His insides were liquid and he found he had to struggle to focus on what he was meant to be doing. His hands kept stopping mid-task as he was lacing up something or threading a buckle and he would simply stare blankly at his fingers for long seconds before he remembered what he was about.

    Was this how soldiers always felt before a big battle, he wondered. Was this how his grandfather felt before...? And, once again, his mind came up against that smooth featureless wall where the memory had once been and he cursed under his breath. Would he feel this uncertain if he still had that story of heroism to draw strength from? Unfortunately, there was no way to know. It was kind of like the paradox of getting a vaccine. If one got the vaccine and didn¡¯t get sick, was that the vaccine, or was it because you never got exposed? Would he feel more confident and less like he wanted to hide in a hole if he knew what it was his grandfather had done in the war or was this just a natural feeling that any sane person felt before rushing toward such an uncertain future?

    ¡°Oh, fuck it,¡± Mitchell snarled and stood up straight from where he had been trying to lace up his scabbard into his belt. ¡°I¡¯ll do it later.¡±

    ¡°Problems?¡± a soft voice said from behind him.

    Mitchell turned to see Allora standing in the doorway studying him.

    ¡°No,¡± he told her. ¡°I just can¡¯t seem to get my fingers to work right.¡±

    Allora gave him her little smile and stepped into the room. As she approached him, she brought her hands up and laced her fingers behind his neck and looked into his eyes.

    ¡°It is alright to be nervous before a battle,¡± she told him. ¡°Especially with so much on the line.¡±

    Mitchell brought his forehead to hers and they stood in silence for a moment.

    ¡°You know what I¡¯m really looking forward to seeing?¡± he asked.

    ¡°What is that?¡±

    ¡°You in your full armor. And I want to watch the people as they see you descend upon our enemies like an avenging angel.¡±

    Allora chuckled and her lips found his for a gentle kiss.

    ¡°It is a nice thought,¡± she told him. ¡°I have been forced to hide for so long. But now, thanks to you, I will once again stand tall in Stollar¡¯s light.¡±

    ¡°Because of me?¡± Mitchell asked, and pulled away. ¡°You did all the hard work. I just followed along.¡±

    ¡°I think you do not give yourself enough credit,¡± Allora chided.

    Her hands came free and she began to work at the straps of his scabbard that he had been unable to secure with his uncooperative fingers.

    ¡°Let us review. It is true that in the beginning you were like a babe barely able to walk, but you have been leading our little group for some weeks now. Somewhere in the mountains you began to believe in yourself. You gained the love and trust of Lethelin and brought her fully into the fold, and you did not let my stubbornness harden your heart towards me.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but¡ª¡±

    ¡°I am not finished,¡± she told him.

    Mitchell closed his mouth.

    ¡°Somehow you managed to get Gilriel to return to the city. Something I was unable to do, even after weeks of begging as we worked on the spell to find you.¡±

    Mitchell cleared his throat. He hadn¡¯t told her about the conversation he¡¯d had with Gilriel in her garden, but Allora had deduced that he¡¯d had something to do with it, anyway.

    ¡°And,¡± Allora continued, ¡°she brought along several more knights that I didn¡¯t even know existed. You gained us an ally here in the city. You came up with the plan that is already bearing fruit as tensions in the city begin to overflow. You tamed a shadow cat, one of the most feared creatures on the continent and, to my knowledge, something that has never been done before. All of this was by your hand, Mitchell. We would not be where we are now had you not found that inner strength. And if we succeed today, it will be through the tactics that you devised to get us into the palace.¡±

    With a final tug, she finished securing the scabbard and looked at him fully.

    ¡°Please do not disparage the man I love,¡± she said firmly. ¡°I will hear no more talk about your lack of ability.¡±

    Mitchell felt his face flush. He¡¯d never been very good at taking compliments but the quiet conviction in Allora¡¯s praise had forestalled any protests he might have given.

    ¡°Well...¡± he said at last. ¡°I never would have gotten this far without you.¡±

    ¡°Nor I without you,¡± she said with a smile. ¡°Thank you for not giving up on me. Thank you for trusting me when you had no good reason to do so.¡±

    ¡°Hey now,¡± came a voice from the door. ¡°What about me? I think I deserve some of those compliments as well.¡±

    Mitchell and Allora both turned to see Lethelin standing there. She had a smile on her face, but Mitchell could make out the worry in her eyes. Mitchell knew she carried that knot of insecurity about her position in their group because she couldn¡¯t get over her feelings of being an outsider.

    ¡°Yes, you absolutely do,¡± he told her and reached out a hand to beckon her into the room.¡±

    Lethelin stepped in, setting her bow and poisoner¡¯s kit down on the bed, and then walked into Mitchell¡¯s outstretched arm, and he hugged her tight. Allora was pressed into his right side and Lethelin on his left. Mitchell saw that Allora¡¯s other arm reached out and embraced Lethelin and the thief returned it.

    ¡°Lethelin,¡± Allora said as her head rested on Mitchell¡¯s shoulder, ¡°even though we share no blood, I want you to know that I think of you as my sister.¡±

    Mitchell saw Lethelin¡¯s head tilt up to meet Allora¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°You do?¡±

    ¡°I am proud to fight alongside you today.¡±

    Mitchell saw the flush rise in Lethelin¡¯s freckled cheeks and he smiled. Then he saw a wicked little grin stretch her full red lips.

    ¡°Not like real sisters, though, right?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Instead of answering, Lethelin closed the small gap between then, stretched herself up and kissed Allora on the lips. Mitchell could feel Allora tense at the moment, but then she leaned into the kiss and she did something with her hand that Mitchell couldn¡¯t see which caused Lethelin to utter a strangled squeak as their kiss deepened.

    Mitchell hardly dared to breathe. He was witnessing perhaps the sexiest thing he had ever seen and he feared to break the spell.

    Lethelin was the one to end the kiss first, and both women were breathing hard as each settled back on her heels. Mitchell saw Allora lick her lips slowly and then glance up at Mitchell with a grin.

    ¡°If we were real siblings,¡± Lethelin said seductively, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be able to do that.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Allora said with a giggle. ¡°No, you would not.¡±

    ¡°Something to look forward to if we don¡¯t die today,¡± the thief said, before tilting her head up to kiss Mitchell as well.

    Mitchell pulled her body hard against his, his passion swelling at the display and he felt Allora¡¯s lips on his neck, her hands beginning to wander over his chest. His heart was hammering and he was so excited that he started to feel a little light headed.

    ¡°Ahem!¡±

    The three of them jerked, and as Mitchell pulled himself up for air, he saw Gilriel standing there, arms crossed, a look half of amusement and half of frustration on her face.

    ¡°You were supposed to be getting ready, Lord Captain. We don¡¯t have time for that this morning. Save it for after the battle.¡±

    Allora stepped away, her face red.

    ¡°Of course, you are right,¡± she said, smoothing her shirt where Mitchell and Lethelin¡¯s hands had pulled it up out of place.

    ¡°Sorry, Gilriel,¡± Mitchell told her sheepishly. ¡°Just got a little carried away. We¡¯ll be ready shortly.¡±

    ¡°Mmhmm,¡± the old commander said, then wobbled her head and headed back up the steps.

    ¡°Falen will be here soon,¡± Allora reminded them. ¡°We really must hurry.¡±

    Lethelin had a look on her face that suggested she was ready to chuck the whole thing and drag them all to bed, but seeing the resolve on Allora¡¯s face, she opted for a string of curses instead, and then helped the flushed knight get her armor ready.

    ¡°I¡¯ll meet you both upstairs,¡± Mitchell said, and took his leave, his mind swimming with possibilities.

 Chapter 85

    Mitchell stared, struck mute as he watched Allora emerge in full armor. She strode like a warrior queen into the courtyard of the Mighty Nine where they were all assembled. The purple and black leather hugged her form, flowing over her torso like a second skin. Its pauldrons, rather than being up around her shoulders, were set lower on her arms leaving her chest exposed, her breasts on proud display. One of the first thoughts that entered Mitchell¡¯s mind¡ªbesides how bad-ass she looked¡ªwas boob armor. It definitely didn¡¯t look practical, but he could not pull his eyes away from all that exposed flesh.

    The suit pulled in tight around her hips and there was a flowing center piece that went down between her legs and stopped just above the knee with her legs exposed on either side. She had even swapped out her ornate krisa, that was made of silver and gold wire, to a metallic headband that was the same color as the pauldrons, and the buckles of her armor. Her sword hung in its scabbard on her left side and she stood tall and proud, her violet eyes fierce and determined. She moved with a deadly grace that he hadn¡¯t really seen in her before. Something about being in her armor changed her whole demeanor. The other clothes she wore were an affectation. A costume, of sorts. In those, she was Allora De Annen, the elf. Strong and proud, to be sure. But in her armor, she was an Onyx Knight, an elite warrior standing tall on the shoulders of a tradition that went back nearly a thousand years. She was magnificent.

    All around him, the assembled knights and even Lethelin bowed as she entered, each of them imparting a greeting to their lord captain. Only Mitchell remained standing, wide eyed at the transformation that had come over her.

    ¡°Allora, you look...¡± Mitchell tried to put it into words but he found he didn¡¯t quite know how to express it. ¡°Damn.¡±

    Her eyes flicked to his and he could see that his shock pleased her. The corner of her mouth ticked up ever so slightly and then she turned her attention back to the rest of their party.

    ¡°Arise,¡± she told the others, and they all did as one, the quiet courtyard filled with the sound of creaking leather and the metallic rustle of chainmail. It was then that he noticed the stark difference between the armor of all the others. Gilriel and the errant knights all wore much more practical attire suitable for heavy combat. Full plate, chainmail, thick leather gambesons, the whole nine yards. But while the women, Gilriel and Elrin, were still fine to look upon, their armor had none of the exposed flesh of Allora¡¯s.

    Allora picked up on his confusion quickly as she saw him studying their gear and hers.

    ¡°This is my ceremonial armor,¡± she explained. ¡°I was wearing it the night of the coup, and fled the palace with it. My battle armor is likely still in the palace.¡±

    ¡°This,¡± she gestured to her exposed chest, ¡°is a little more... decorative than my other set, but enchantments built into the metal offer nearly as much protection once they are activated.¡±

    When she drew his attention to it, Mitchell could indeed see the runes worked into the metal of the pauldrons and bracers.

    ¡°They function as a sort of shield spell but, because they rely on the storage capacity of the gems worked into the armor, they will fail after a time.¡±

    ¡°As long as you¡¯ll be safe in it.¡±

    ¡°She will be,¡± Gilriel said coming up beside him. ¡°Safe enough, at any rate. I wish we had time to get you into a proper set, my lord.¡±

    Gilriel eyed the second-hand armor that Mitchell was still wearing and frowned.

    ¡°But with Allora and Lethelin at your side, I think you¡¯ll be as safe as can be for now.¡±

    Lethelin came up and stood by Allora, her eyes moving over the knight¡¯s bare flesh hungrily.

    ¡°If we make it through all this, can you wear that to bed?¡±

    Gilriel groaned and rolled her eyes.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s cock, girl. Keep your pants on!¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind, either,¡± Mitchell agreed.

    Allora tried unsuccessfully to suppress a grin.

    ¡°Focus, please, the both of you,¡± Allora reminded them.

    ¡°You¡¯re right, sorry,¡± Mitchell told her and cleared his throat.

    Then he turned his attention back to the knights group.

    Out beyond the courtyard walls of the inn that had sheltered them these last few days, the sounds of commotion could already be heard. Alarm bells and whistles had filled the pre-dawn hours and more than once the sound of rushing soldiers or guardsman had been heard charging down the street. The smell of smoke was heavy in the cool air and the sky was just beginning to lighten in the east.

    ¡°Can you cast the language spell on us, Allora? I have some things I want to say, and I don¡¯t trust my Common enough to get it right.¡±

    It had been some time since she¡¯d needed to use the language spell on him, but she did it without hesitation. He felt the tingle of the spell settle over him and saw a few of the others shiver as well as the spell settled over the entire group.

    With Allora standing on his right and Lethelin on his left, Mitchell met the eyes of each member of his strike team. He could feel the weight of their expectation bearing down on him like a mountain. Everything had been building towards this. He was their monarch and they were charging into battle on his command. Their lives were in his hands and some or all of them might not live to see another dawn. The responsibility of it was enough to make his knees weak. Still, he inhaled and set his shoulders.

    ¡°I¡¯m not one for big speeches,¡± he began slowly, ¡°but I wanted to take a few moments before we depart to speak with you.¡±

    He felt Allora¡¯s fingers find his, and she gripped his hand tightly. When he spoke again, his voice was stronger than before.

    ¡°You all had your reasons for leaving and I thank you for returning to help us retake the city. I am a stranger in this land, as I¡¯m sure you have all figured out. Allora brought me here from the human home world just a few months ago. I arrived unable to use magic or a sword, nor could I even speak Common. But through her strength, guidance, and wisdom, I stand ready to fight alongside you to take back the city and, from there, drive out the invaders that have brought such ruin to the land you all call home. To the land that I now call home, as well.

    ¡°Outside these thin walls lies a storm we might not return from. We have a whole city of enemy soldiers aligned against us, and guardsmen whose loyalty we cannot trust. Some might say charging into that is foolishness to the point of madness. And maybe they¡¯re right. But I call it courage.

    ¡°Since I have arrived in this land, I have heard stories about the unmatched skill and bravery of the Onyx Knights. How, through your strength of arms and dedication to your duty, you helped maintain a peace and prosperity that has lasted nearly a thousand years.

    ¡°That peace was shattered and the knights nearly broken. Much was lost in that terrible attack two years ago, and I know that you all grieve. But I also know this: outside these walls, the enemy is terrified. The city is filled with soldiers all sent to track down one single Onyx Knight and we have gathered seven to greet them. If only one could inspire such terror, what could seven do?

    ¡°Through the help of our allies, the soldiers are exhausted, stretched thin, and ill-prepared for the hellfire we are about to unleash. And hellfire it will be. The vengeance of a nation is about to descend on them. The might of eight hundred years of battle-hardened steel, and elemental magic.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°So, look to the knight beside you. That is your shield. That is your strength. Together, we shall give the people something that they will speak of for generations¡ªa tale of the last Onyx Knights who stood in unyielding defiance, of warriors who stood unbroken in the face of impossible odds. Knights who brought justice to the wicked, and revenge for our fallen brothers and sisters.

    ¡°This is our moment. Let us write it with courage, with sacrifice, and with love for Awen, and the land she has made bountiful for us. To battle, my friends. To victory!¡±

    As the final words left his mouth, Mitchell felt suddenly drained. He didn¡¯t know where that speech had come from, but he felt the truth of every word as he spoke it. Drawing in a deep breath, he refocused on the assembled warriors and saw tears in some eyes, and expressions of terrible determination on others. The courtyard was silent and Mitchell turned to Allora only to find her already looking at him, her eyes brimming with tears.

    ¡°How¡¯d I¡ª¡±

    Allora flung her arms around him and kissed him so hard she almost knocked him over.

    ¡°Yaay!¡± Mitchell suddenly heard Khardin scream into the stillness. ¡°Hellfire indeed, aye!¡±

    Allora pulled away, laughing and sniffling.

    ¡°My lord,¡± she said breathlessly. ¡°That was amazing!¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Mitchell felt the heat begin to build in his cheeks.

    He looked back at the fighters and as he did, Eldrick and Elrin both saluted in unison, hand to heart, lips, and head. Their matching coppery-red eyes alight with righteous fury. Vanthalla had drawn both of her blades and had crossed them over her chest. As he looked at her, she bowed low. Gilriel drew her sword in a flourish and, much like that day she named Allora Lord Captain, placed the point into the ground and knelt before him.

    ¡°To battle, my lord Mitchell,¡± she said, her voice tight with emotion. ¡°To victory.¡±

    ¡°To battle!¡± Hackett cried out, arising from his bow and executing a sharp salute. ¡°To victory!¡±

    ¡°To battle!¡± Khardin screamed again, thrusting his great axe into the air. ¡°We¡¯ll send these dirt-licking jivi fuckers to the darkness, aye!¡±

    ¡°Balls and fucking taint,¡± Lethelin said, staring at him. ¡°Where did you learn to talk like that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s almost enough to make me join up myself,¡± came a new voice behind them.

    Mitchell spun towards the inn to see Falen sanding there, two of his bodyguards flanking on either side. He had forsaken his stylish toga-like garments for a set of leather armor. He had a longsword at his hip and a dagger on the other side. Mitchell could make out the slight glint of runes worked into the armor, as well.

    ¡°Right on time,¡± Mitchell said, smiling at the crime boss.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t come alone, either.¡±

    Falen¡¯s eyes flicked up to the trees in the courtyard and Mitchell followed his gaze to a patch of shadow high up that had glittering green eyes. Mitchell smiled.

    ¡°Everyone,¡± Mitchell called out into the sounds of jubilation. ¡°There¡¯s just one more thing...¡±

    ¡°Oh balls,¡± Lethelin muttered, as she spotted Vras up in the trees as well and knowing what was about to happen. ¡°This ought to be good.¡±

    ***

    ¡°I enlisted the help of another edrokii and, between the two of us, we¡¯ve sent the watch into a frenzy. It cost me one of my best gambling dens to get him to agree to it, but I¡¯m sure you¡¯re good for it,¡± Falen said with a wicked smile.

    ¡°Have the gates been closed?¡±

    ¡°Just after midnight,¡± Falen confirmed. ¡°Mysterious fires broke out at every guard station and watch barracks. The fire teams have all been bribed to stay home and so most of them have burned to the ground. If fires spread to buildings, they will work to control those, but won¡¯t give any help to any military positions. I¡¯ve got wagons and carts clogging up every main thoroughfare in the city at various points. As soon as the soldiers would clear one, three more would show up, and they were getting sniped at the entire time. I¡¯ve had my mages and archers picking off any soldier caught walking alone, and they travel in groups of at least three or four now. My spies tell me they¡¯ve been working non-stop trying to get a handle on the situation since yesterday morning. They¡¯re exhausted and have taken a fair number of losses.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what we wanted,¡± Mitchell said as they crept to the end of the street.

    ¡°The outer city has mostly been abandoned and they¡¯ve pulled back towards the palace and have been fortifying it as best they could under the assaults. We¡¯ve had less success there as hit-and-run tactics don¡¯t work well against fortified positions. But they know we¡¯re coming. They¡¯re prepared.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s alright, I expected that,¡± Mitchell told him. ¡°And they¡¯re not prepared for what¡¯s coming. Are the runes in place?¡±

    ¡°They should be. I had the team running all day yesterday hiding them at every large intersection in the city and several of the smaller ones.¡±

    They all crouched low under the awning of a glassblower¡¯s shop and Mitchell signaled for Khardin to come to the front of the column. The big dwarf edged around Vras, doing his best not to touch a single strand of fur on the shadow cat¡¯s body, nearly scampering away once he was clear.

    ¡°Balls and bloody fucking taint,¡± he mumbled as he came up next to Mitchell. ¡°Balls and taint!¡±

    The dwarf was actually shuddering at having to be in close proximity to such a creature but he mastered himself.

    ¡°Aye, my lord.¡±

    ¡°The runes are in place. Are you sure this will work?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s an easy enough spell, my lord, aye. It won¡¯t last but a minute or two as the ink and paper won¡¯t withstand much mana before it burns out, but it should be enough, aye.¡±

    ¡°What gave you this idea?¡± Falen asked him.

    Mitchell shrugged.

    ¡°The way everyone talked about the knights. They are like the soul of Awenor. A symbol to the whole nation of its power. Lethelin told me once that seeing them killed was like watching the Skybreaker Peaks crumble to dust. The people lost the will to fight without the knights to rally behind. But if they learn that the knights are still alive and are fighting for the city, I¡¯m betting a good number of people will show up to help us.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right!¡± Lethelin said from behind. ¡°I gave him the idea. That was mine!¡±

    Mitchell chuckled.

    ¡°Whenever you¡¯re ready, Khardin.¡±

    Khardin withdrew a small piece of metal from somewhere inside his armor. On it, a rune had been etched that he¡¯d said was for a spell called thaumaturgy. It could create a few different sensory effects, depending on how the rune was constructed and, for today, it would work as a microphone.

    When Mitchell had been discussing the best way to announce the return of the Onyx Knights the day before, Khardin said he could use thaumaturgy to increase the volume of his voice so that anyone within a half a kilometer would hear it if he yelled loudly enough, but it wouldn¡¯t reach the entire city. Gilriel, a master-level enchanter, had asked him if the spell could be transmitted through linked runes. Through some trial and error, they¡¯d figured out how to link connecting runes to broadcast his message just like a microphone would on Earth. Mitchell marveled at the ingenuity of it and remembered Luvari telling him not to underestimate the people here just because they didn¡¯t use electricity.

    ¡°Once its charged, just speak into it, my lord captain, aye. It should carry to all the runes that they¡¯ve placed around the city.¡±

    Allora nodded, and cleared her throat.

    ¡°I am ready.¡±

    A stone on Khardin¡¯s krisa glowed and Mitchell saw light begin to fill the rune etched into the metal plate. He then handed it to Allora, who brought it in front of her mouth. Taking a deep breath, she began her short, prepared speech.

    ¡°People of Lorivin, my name is Allora De Annen, Onyx Knight, daughter of Lord Captain Travelor Ne Annen, and defender of Awenor.¡±

    All across the city Allora¡¯s voice boomed out and echoed down the streets. Several members of the party gasped at the sound and stared in awe at the dawn sky where Allora¡¯s voice boomed like a message from the heavens.

    Allora continued, knowing she didn¡¯t have long before the weak paper runes burned out.

    ¡°I have come to reclaim the city from the invaders but I need your help. Arise from your beds and march on the palace. The Onyx Knights have returned. Help us now to take back the city. Now is the time! Stand with us!¡±

    Khardin did something and the message repeated once more, filling the quiet streets with her commanding voice. It had been decided that she should be the one to give the message because all knew that she lived and was being hunted.

    The message began a third time, but didn¡¯t get halfway through before it abruptly cut off.

    ¡°That¡¯s it then, aye. The runes have burned out.¡±

    ¡°It was enough,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°Thank you, Khardin.¡±

    ¡°What do we do now?¡± Lethelin asked.

    ¡°Shh!¡± Mitchell said. ¡°Listen.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t hear any---¡± then the thief¡¯s voice cut out as the sound made it to her ears.

    Shouting. It was faint at first, and they couldn¡¯t pinpoint the location, but it was growing. It wasn¡¯t long before shouting came from one or two streets over. Then on their very own street. People opened windows and doors, some looking like they¡¯d barely slept. The shouts that had been indistinct were becoming clearer now.

    ¡°The knights have returned!¡±

    ¡°To the palace!¡±

    ¡°Allora!¡±

    ¡°March on the palace! The knights have returned!¡±

    And it continued on. Soon, the shouts echoing across the city were just as loud as Allora¡¯s voice had been. From their huddled position in the shadows of the darkened shop, they watched as people began filing out of homes and storefronts. Some carried weapons, work tools, pots or pans, kitchen knives, and some carried nothing at all, but their voices were raised.

    ¡°We march!¡± came the cry.

    ¡°For the Knights!¡±

    ¡°For Awen!¡±

    ¡°For Allora!¡±

    Mitchell grabbed Allora, pulled her close and kissed her.

    ¡°They¡¯re marching for you, love,¡± he told her. ¡°Are you ready?¡±

    She nodded, her face determined.

    ¡°Knights, form up,¡± Mitchell called to his squad. ¡°Keep Vras at the center until we engage the enemy.¡±

    Everyone signaled their readiness and as one, they got up and joined the mass of people. They were all wearing cloaks to hide their armor until they got closer and few people took notice of them as they began to push towards the palace. Just a few more citizens of Lorivin off to march on the palace.

    ¡°Here we go,¡± Mitchell said.

 Chapter 86

    ¡°Left here,¡± Falen said as they split away from the main column of people marching the last kilometer or so to the palace. ¡°The main roads are going to be the most crowded, but I¡¯ve picked a spot that should see us clear of the main press of bodies.¡±

    ¡°Will we run into patrols?¡± Allora asked.

    ¡°Likely,¡± he answered, as he peeked around a corner. ¡°We¡¯ve pushed them back into the Cloud District, but they aren¡¯t exactly hiding in holes. The last reports I got said they were setting up defensive positions all over the place.¡±

    The brightening sky revealed more of the mostly empty streets as people funneled themselves to the main avenues as Falen had predicted. Mitchell noticed that the closer they got to the Cloud District, the nicer the buildings and homes became.

    ¡°Guard post up ahead,¡± Falen called back as they turned a corner. ¡°About forty meters up the road.¡±

    They were close now. Mitchell could see the walls of the palace about half a mile distant, the protective shield glimmering in the dawn light. The shouts of the enraged populace filled the air almost like white noise. It reminded Mitchell of being outside a packed stadium.

    ¡°Any civilians in the street?¡± Mitchell asked him.

    Falen poked his head out again and nodded.

    ¡°Looks like a handful of citizens throwing rocks at the soldiers and guardsman from cover,¡± he reported. ¡°I count at least ten behind some hastily built barricades but there may be more. Three bodies on the street.¡±

    ¡°It sounds like there was a small engagement here,¡± Allora said, then looked to Mitchell. ¡°How do you want to proceed?¡±

    Realistically, Mitchell knew there was no way to get close to the palace without engaging with the enemy forces at some point. But once a fight kicked off, it would likely draw attention and make getting to the shield that much harder. Still, it could not be avoided.

    ¡°Should we go for a frontal assault?¡± Mitchell asked no one in particular.

    ¡°That¡¯s always been my favorite, aye,¡± Khardin weighed in.

    ¡°Says the dwarf in full plate,¡± Hackett noted sardonically.

    ¡°Hide behind me, and you¡¯ll be fine, aye,¡± the grizzled old dwarf gave the halfling a wink.

    Mitchell saw Lethelin then, eyeing the building they were pressed against. He knew that look by now.

    ¡°What are you thinking, Leth?¡±

    She gave him a distracted look and shrugged.

    ¡°The buildings here are all pressed together.¡±

    ¡°Okay...¡±

    ¡°Well, I could scale this pretty easily, run across the rooftops and get behind them, then create a distraction and you can do the frontal assault when their backs are turned.¡±

    ¡°That would work,¡± Gilriel said. ¡°They¡¯re focused on the street ahead of them. Likely they think their backs are covered.¡±

    Without warning, a black shape leapt up from the center of their group, and Mitchell heard the sound of six sets of claws digging into the wood of the building. In seconds, Vras had disappeared over the edge of the roof nearly thirty feet up.

    ¡°Stollar¡¯s cock!¡± Vanthella swore and jerked so hard she almost dropped her blades. Hackett was pale as well.

    ¡°He¡¯s so fast,¡± Eldrick said. ¡°Balls...¡±

    ¡°I think he likes the idea,¡± Allora said, trying to hide her grin. She was well used to the shadow cat by this point but Mitchell knew the others were barely keeping it together being so close his little murder death ball.

    As they all stared at the edge where Vras had disappeared, his head suddenly popped over the lip and stared down at them. Mitchell chuckled.

    ¡°Go for it, Leth. We¡¯ll wait for your signal.¡±

    She grinned at him, then pulled up the edge of her cloak, which had become a nondescript gray color. Immediately her edges blurred and several of the knights swore at the display. This was new to them, as well.

    At this distance, the enchantments were ineffective so everyone in Mitchell¡¯s party saw her hazy form leap for a trellis decorating the outside of the building, perhaps manor home or hotel, and she began to climb. They lost sight of her before she reached the top though, and only the sound of the occasional grunt and the scrape of a boot told them of her assent.

    ¡°You keep very interesting friends, my lord Mitchell,¡± Eldrick said as he squinted trying to see where Lethelin had gone.

    Mitchell just smiled.

    ¡°Everyone get ready,¡± he told them.

    ¡°Did we decide on a signal?¡± Elrin asked.

    ¡°Knowing Vras, you¡¯ll just have to listen for the screams,¡± Mitchell told her.

    ¡°Ha!¡± the elfin woman said, thinking he was joking. When he didn¡¯t smile back, her face went flat and she muttered something under her breath in a language he didn¡¯t recognize, so assumed it must have been Elvish.

    The group shed their cloaks. Once the encounter started, there would be no point in hiding anymore.

    ¡°Try to use magic sparingly,¡± Gilriel cautioned everyone. ¡°This is a small engagement, and there will be bigger fights after this. We don¡¯t want anyone running out of mana too quickly.¡±

    They all nodded their agreement and Allora stepped up next to Mitchell.

    ¡°Stay close,¡± she advised him. ¡°I will catch any offensive magic with my sword until we close with them.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a plan,¡± he told her.

    Right on cue, the first scream ripped through the morning air. Not needing any further encouragement, then group broke from cover and began to charge down the street.

    Mitchell¡¯s heart was pounding in his chest and it felt like everything was happening too quickly. In his peripheral vision, he saw the shocked looks of the citizens who¡¯d been hiding behind whatever they could find to taunt and throw things at the soldiers behind the barricade. He saw the bodies of three people on the ground, one with two arrows in the chest and two more that looked scorched by magic. Then he focused on the barrier up ahead. It consisted of two large carts and some crates that had been spaced across the road. The carts were about chest high and allowed the soldiers to see over it clearly, while ducking if they needed to. At the moment, every head was turned away from the charging squad and there was a lot of shouting. As he watched, an arrow suddenly sprouted from the neck of one of the soldiers behind the makeshift wall and the man dropped like a stone.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    Beside him, Allora held out her hand and Mitchell saw the air ripple in front of her outstretched palm. He felt a strange vibrating pressure on his eardrums as the distortion hit the piled crates that Mitchell had been prepared to vault over. The move was unnecessary though as the spell shattered a hole through the assembled debris wide enough for the two of them to pass right through it. The explosion finally alerted the panicked soldiers to their presence, and the real fight began.

    Mitchell cut down the first man just beyond the carts as he turned in response to the noise. He pushed through, trying to make sure he left enough room behind him that the others could enter the opening without clogging it, and found himself surrounded by four enemy soldiers. Their eyes were wide at the incursion but they recovered quickly. One of them fired off a spell, but Allora was there, the defensive magic of her sword stopping it before it could make contact.

    ¡°It¡¯s her!¡± someone screamed. ¡°Sound the alarm!¡±

    Almost as one, Mitchell and Allora rushed at the soldiers, and behind him he heard the others engage as well.

    From the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of black and suddenly the one who had cast the spell was ripped from his feet and hit the ground without his head. In the heat of battle, Mitchell didn¡¯t have time to marvel at the speed at which Vras had just decapitated a man.

    One of the soldiers came in, sword flashing, and Mitchell caught it on his own, before shoving and following up with a series of slashes that were faster than the human eye could track. In seconds, the poor bastard lay dying on the cobbles. It was almost comical how slowly the soldier seemed to move compared to what Mitchell was able to do. He turned to see Allora taking the head off another man.

    ¡°That one¡¯s running!¡± Hackett shouted and Mitchell turned to see one of the soldiers running for all he was worth towards the next intersection.

    The halfling brought up his bow but he needn¡¯t have bothered. An arrow came streaking down from the rooftops and took him in his back. The man screamed and fell, skidding a few feet before coming to a stop. Despite her accuracy, Lethelin¡¯s shot had not killed him. He crawled feebly, his whimpers just barely audible over the quiet roar of the protests a few streets over. Before anyone else could do anything, Vras appeared from a balcony just above the man, dropped silently down onto the injured man¡¯s back and took his neck in his powerful jaws. The crack of shattered vertebrae made Mitchell twitch as he watched the man¡¯s body jerk and then go still.

    The shadow cat shook the body for good measure, then looked back down the street at the assembled party. He licked his lips and came trotting up to Mitchell and bumped his head against Mitchell¡¯s side. It wasn¡¯t that long ago that his head barely reached Mitchell¡¯s thigh.

    ¡°Good job,¡± he told the creature.

    ¡°You saw him rip that whoreson¡¯s head clean off, right?¡± Eldrick said. ¡°We all saw that?¡±

    Elrin and Khardin both nodded.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t decided yet if this is madness or genius,¡± Vanthella said as she watched Mitchell scratch Vras behind the ears.

    ¡°Is there much difference?¡± Mitchell asked her. ¡°He fights for us and he knows who the bad guys are.¡±

    Vanthalla shuddered and nodded but he noticed that she had a very hard time looking directly at Vras.

    As Mitchell scanned around, he saw that the group wasn¡¯t even breathing hard. Around him lay twelve dead soldiers and none of his people had a scratch on them.

    There was a sound behind them and they all jumped, weapons ready. It was the handful of civilians that had been harrying the now-dead soldiers.

    ¡°It¡¯s really her,¡± one young man said.

    ¡°And more knights!¡± a woman called out. ¡°The stories were true!¡±

    Allora stepped up to greet them.

    ¡°The stories are true,¡± she confirmed. ¡°Tell others. We will take back the palace today. Go, quickly now.¡±

    They all nodded and ran down the street as fast as their feet would carry them, already shouting for all they were worth.

    ¡°We should get moving, aye. The palace isn¡¯t taken yet,¡± the burly dwarf said.

    Mitchell nodded.

    ¡°Form up, same as before. Double time,¡± he told them.

    ¡°What¡¯s that, my lord?¡± Hackett asked, giving him a quizzical look.

    ¡°It means a quick jog.¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± the halfling said. ¡°Understood, my lord.¡±

    Vras bumped him and he looked down at Vras¡¯s gore-covered maw.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°I will prowl from above with Maula,¡± Vras said.

    Mitchell stared up at the rooftops, seeing Lethelin perched there, waiting.

    ¡°You good up there?¡± he called to her.

    She extended her pinky and thumb, which was their thumbs up equivalent, and he looked back at Vras.

    ¡°Okay, I like that idea. Keep her safe, and join in when you see us doing battle.¡±

    Vras flicked his ears, and loped up to the nearest building, his six legs gliding him smoothly over the ground. He found one with a balcony and, with barely a pause, leapt up to the second story, clearing the iron railing with a few feet to spare, then dug into the wall and raced up the side of the structure as gracefully as a spider.

    ¡°That was nearly four meters he jumped,¡± Vanthella said. ¡°Vertical.¡±

    ¡°And he¡¯s not even fully grown yet,¡± Mitchell told her, unable to hide the wicked smile.

    ¡°Denass, mother of darkness and night, protect us,¡± Vanthella whispered.

    With Lethelin and Vras on overwatch, the rest of them started jogging down the street towards the palace and the growing noise.

    ***

    ¡°Oh, look at that,¡± Lethelin said as she hopped a small gap and peered ahead through the thin layer of smoke towards the end of the row of buildings. ¡°They have soldiers up here. Maybe they aren¡¯t completely stupid.¡±

    They¡¯d fought their way through two more barricades and one patrol and were getting close to the palace. So far, she had not been impressed with the quality of the troops they¡¯d been facing, but then she had to remind herself that her allies were not regular soldiers. She was watching what seven Onyx Knights could do. Lethelin tried not to let herself get cocky, but it was hard. Three direct confrontations and they hadn''t lost anyone. Now, on the roofs, she had her first solo challenge. Well, her and Vras, anyway. Honestly, she preferred it this way.

    She knew her skills and knew she wasn¡¯t a front-line fighter. Her style was all wrong for that. She didn¡¯t wear heavy plate and didn¡¯t have any sort of magically enchanted armor that would stop a serious blow. Her rapier was no match for a long sword, nor would she be all that effective against someone fully armored like that dwarf. She worked best from the shadows, moving unseen, and sneaking up on her opponents. She was fine with people not even knowing it was her that killed them. So, what to do with the group in front of her?

    There were four men dressed in city guardsmen colors and at least one of them was a caster. She knew that Allora wanted them to try and go easy on the city guardsmen since most of them were local but with the state of things, they couldn¡¯t be trusted. And she also didn¡¯t have much time to decide as the others would outpace her on the road.

    ¡°I guess we can offer them a chance,¡± Lethelin said to her companion. ¡°If they don¡¯t surrender, then we can kill them. What do you think.¡±

    Vras looked at her with his glowing green eyes and flicked his ears, which she had learned from Mitchell was his way of agreeing. She didn¡¯t want to think about the mind of the creature that could understand her enough to give agreement to a hypothetical, so she just rolled with it.

    ¡°Quiet then,¡± she said. ¡°Let¡¯s get a little closer so I can offer them the chance to surrender. If they don¡¯t, I guess you get to play a little more.¡±

    She walked slowly forward another five or six meters, close enough to hear their conversation over the roar of the protests on the street below.

    ¡°Was that the signal?¡± one of them called out.

    ¡°No, not yet,¡± another answered.

    ¡°Well, keep your eyes open.¡±

    ¡°It likely won¡¯t come unless they push through the barricades around the palace,¡± the one with the sevith said.

    ¡°I almost hope they do,¡± the first man said. ¡°Then we¡¯ll see how rebellious they¡¯re feeling when the arrows and spells start flying.¡±

    That told Lethelin a lot, but still, she had to try.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to give you nice boys one chance to lay down your arms and surrender,¡± she called out from behind the chimney she¡¯d posted up at. ¡°If you don¡¯t, you¡¯re all going to die.¡±

    The men spun around, weapons ready but she knew they wouldn¡¯t be able to see her with her cloak up. She hadn¡¯t gotten that close.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see anyone,¡± the caster said.

    ¡°I fight with Allora De Annen and the new monarch. Last chance. Drop your weapons and retreat. I¡¯d rather see you all dead, but I promised Allora I¡¯d try not to kill guardsmen.¡±

    ¡°Fuck off, bitch, wherever you are. Pop your head up and we¡¯ll make it quick.¡±

    ¡±Well, Allora, I did try,¡± she said, and loosed an arrow. When she looked down, Vras had already slinked away.

    She supposed that, from the guardsmen¡¯s point of view, the arrow that suddenly streaked across the rooftops and into the biggest one¡¯s left eye appeared as if by magic. As his body toppled over the edge, Vras darted in from the side towards the caster, disemboweling him without even slowing down before he leapt towards the next closest guardsman and bore him to the ground, his jaws ripping out the man¡¯s throat. The last man, too stunned to move, never even saw Lethelin as her borrowed rapier emerged from his chest, right around where his heart was.

    ¡°Who¡¯s the bitch now?¡± she asked the dying man as his knees buckled and he slid off her blade.

    She averted her eyes from what Vras was doing to his fresh corpse, telling herself that it was just meat now.

    ¡°Leth?¡± a voice called up from the street below.

    She jogged over the edge and looked down to see Mitchell and the others clustered behind him.

    ¡°All good?¡±

    ¡°Yep, all good,¡± she shouted down.

    ¡°We¡¯re about to come out into the main crowd. Go ahead and come down, we¡¯re going to need you down here.¡±

    ¡°You got it, Captain Tight Pants!¡±

 Chapter 87

    Mitchell hunched low behind the now cleared barricade and stared at the mass of people in front of him. There were thousands, all pushed up against the staggered hastily built defensive wall that the occupying soldiers had thrown together over the last day or two. He noticed the various temporary structures that had been erected around the parkland that extended around the palace on his walk with Falen two days prior, but it had been built up considerably since then.

    ¡°I thought you said they were all lazy opportunists,¡± Lethelin complained to Falen. ¡°How did they get so much done in a short time.¡±

    The man shrugged.

    ¡°Usually they are,¡± he said, his voice flat. ¡°But it looks like someone stuffed a drake down their pants on this one. I¡¯m rather impressed.¡±

    ¡°Likely they had plans for this in place already,¡± Gilriel said, her experienced eye scanning the roughly built eight-foot high wall that was keeping the crowds at bay. ¡°Once they got the word, they would have made all haste in building those walls and getting their troops behind them.¡±

    ¡°That still seems like a lot of work in a short time,¡± Lethelin grumbled.

    ¡°On my world, there were a people called Romans,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°Their soldiers could construct a fortified camp in a few hours, sometimes even under enemy fire. The guard and the soldiers had almost two days.¡±

    Lethelin glowered at the wall they were going to have to breach rather than answer. Mitchell understood the feeling. There was a knot of tension building in his stomach at what they were likely going to do and he was desperately trying to find a way not to have to do it.

    The walls had been anchored into the soil just beyond the cobbled and gravel surface of the road that ran around the palace. There were even some very basic towers spaced along it at somewhat uneven intervals and, at least from where they were standing, no gate was visible.

    The smell of bodies was so strong to Mitchell¡¯s improved senses that it had made his eyes water as they closed the last bit of ground and took up their position behind the crowd which let off a low, steady roar punctuated by shouts.

    ¡°Allora!¡±

    ¡°For Awenor!¡±

    ¡°Death to Milandris!¡±

    A steady stream of stones and other items were being lobbed at the wall that Mitchell could see through the haze that hung over everything. There were scorch marks all up and down the palisades where people had either thrown spells or this planet¡¯s equivalent of Molotov cocktails. The heads that he could see poking up over the crudely sharpened stakes mostly ignored the physical objects, but Mitchell had gotten a clear view of what happened when someone used magic.

    The reaction had been instant. Spell casters had popped up, followed by archers and they focused on whatever area the assault had come from, blanketing the area with arrows and magical attacks, often leaving several dead or wounded.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t take much to knock the wall down,¡± Vanthella said, to Mitchell¡¯s surprise. The woman had rarely spoken in the time that Mitchell had known her.

    ¡°Aye,¡± Khardin agreed. ¡°But...¡±

    ¡°But it will get a lot of people killed, won¡¯t it?¡± Mitchell asked, that knot in his stomach becoming something akin to a cannonball. He had made much the same assessment.

    ¡°Aye,¡± Khardin said, his tone regretful. ¡°There¡¯s not enough of us to charge the wall without the help of the crowd.¡±

    Anyone getting too close to the wall or using magic to try and breech it was fired on immediately. Enough had already been killed or wounded that the crowd, for all their anger, were reluctant to cross the last couple of meters and attack the barrier head on. But Mitchell knew that getting the crowd to push forward was their only way through. The wall was not meant to sustain any sort of serious attack, just as those old Roman marching camps weren¡¯t. They were meant to slow people down and, hopefully, kill or capture Allora in the chaos. They knew she was coming so all they really had to do was wait for her to stick her head up.

    ¡°Lethelin,¡± Allora asked, ¡°did you get a look at what was beyond the wall when you were on the roofs?¡±

    ¡°I did,¡± she said, looking back at her. ¡°I saw pockets of troops, maybe ten or twelve, standing idle at various points. My guess is they¡¯re reserves, there to act if there¡¯s a break in the wall.¡±

    Allora nodded her agreement.

    ¡°I¡¯ve an idea, my lord, aye,¡± Khardin said suddenly.

    ¡°Let¡¯s hear it,¡± Mitchell said, looking for anything that would help minimize the civilian casualties.

    ¡°Well, my lord, it would be better if Stollar ceded the sky to Denass for the day, but after seeing what your¡­um¡­ the¡­ uh...¡±

    Khardin eyes darted to where Vras sat patiently licking blood from his many claws and his eyes darted away so fast that Mitchell thought for a moment they would fly out of his head.

    ¡°Vras,¡± Mitchell offered.

    ¡°Aye, Vras,¡± he spat, shuddering at saying the name. ¡°After seeing how well it¡­ I mean he¡­ how well he did against the other soldiers, how fast. If we could get... him over the walls, it would create an excellent distraction.¡±

    ¡°But it¡¯s daytime,¡± Mitchell reminded him. ¡°They would see him and a lot of what makes him dangerous would be lost.¡±

    ¡°Aye, but I¡¯ve a spell that might help with that,¡± the dwarf said.

    Allora and Gilriel both realized what Khardin was talking about at the same time.

    ¡°Denass¡¯s Void!¡± they said in unison.

    ¡°Aye!¡± Khardin said with a smile. ¡°Just so.¡±

    Allora saw the confusion on Mitchell¡¯s face and quickly explained.

    ¡°Denass¡¯s Void will create a magical darkness that cannot be seen through except by magical means.¡±

    ¡°True sight,¡± Gilriel offered.

    ¡°Which none of these whoresons are likely to have,¡± Eldrick said then, sounding like he liked the idea. ¡°And which shadow cats do.¡±

    ¡°Vras has this true sight ability?¡±

    ¡°Their abilities are not well known,¡± Allora explained, struggling to be heard over the roar of the gathered masses, ¡°But it is believed that they see through invisibility and through magical darkness. It is believed that they can see magic itself.¡±

    Mitchell thought about that for a moment and realized it explained a lot. A memory surfaced of how Vras reacted to the Shadow Glen the first time they¡¯d come upon it. How he seemed to see and sense things that none of them could. Then, there was how the shadow cat had been able to tell Mitchell when there were magic users in a group of enemies. Mitchell hadn¡¯t really thought about it at the time, it just seemed like one of the creature¡¯s oddities, of which there were many. That would be very useful, indeed.

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    ¡°So will it move with him?¡± Mitchell asked.

    ¡°Aye,¡± said Khardin, nodding. ¡°I can keep it active for eight, maybe ten minutes.¡±

    That was ages in a battle. It would be enough.

    Khardin then explained that anyone outside would not be able to see in, it would look like a void moving over the ground. They could shoot into it, of course¡ªit wasn¡¯t a shield¡ªbut they would be shooting blind. It sounded like an amazing plan. Mitchell relayed it to Vras.

    ¡°You can give me the night?¡± the cat asked, trying to understand the specifics.

    ¡°The night will follow you and you can kill without being seen.¡±

    ¡°I am gratha,¡± Vras said. ¡°I will taste the blood of many foes.¡±

    ¡°Hey, I hate to interrupt, but we¡¯re drawing more eyes,¡± Lethelin told the group. ¡°We need to move quickly before we draw eyes we don¡¯t want.¡±

    Mitchell nodded. They sketched out a very hasty plan that everyone agreed to, then they all turned to face the backs of the crowd that covered the plaza. A lot of people were about to die, he knew. Not all of them bad guys. There were citizens behind that crudely built palisade, city guardsmen who hadn¡¯t been given the chance yet to surrender and who might, if they could. But there was no time to negotiate. If they didn¡¯t clear that wall and get through the barrier and into throne room, they would all be dead before the sun set.

    All around him was chaos but, with the plan settled upon, he found his mind was suddenly calm. The air was filled with the smell of smoke while the acrid scent of sweat and anger clogged his nose like a cloying mist. The sounds of the thousands of people who had gathered to chase out the invaders had become the flat roar of an avalanche racing down the mountain, their occasional shouts like those of trees shattering under the deluge. He could see panicked faces, fearful and angry faces, but also hope as well. The people knew now that the knights were not dead. That their nation was not lost just yet. Mitchell took that hope and made it his own. They were his people now, too. This was his city. Not because he was monarch, or would be when the day was done, but because he believed in it like they did. He believed in Allora, and the knights, and Awen deep underground, and in the history and culture they had forged over the last millennium.

    ¡°I knew you would be a fine monarch,¡± Awen suddenly spoke into his mind. Mitchell could hear the smile in her voice. ¡°Fight well.¡±

    ¡°Is everyone ready?¡± Mitchell called out, gripping his sword hilt and flexing his sevith hand. He was unable to keep the grin off his face at Awen¡¯s words of encouragement.

    More shouts were coming from the back as people spotted the armor of the knights. More people were turning to look and cheer. They had to go now.

    ¡°We¡¯re ready, my lord, aye!¡± Khardin yelled, and thrust his giant battle axe forward.

    ¡°Aye!¡± the rest of the group shouted in unison. ¡°For Awenor!¡±

    As one, they stepped out from cover, and charged.

    ***

    ¡°To the wall!¡± Khardin¡¯s magically amplified voice boomed out as they entered the fray. ¡°Break it down! For Allora!¡±

    It took a moment for the throngs of people to get over their shock as suddenly having several fully armed knights in their midst, but then the call began to spread up and down the plaza. Magic began to flare up again as a lot of the people started to attack in earnest.

    Allora and Gilriel were at the front, their swords ready to activate the defensive shield if anything came over the wall at them, and in the meantime, Lethelin and Hackett were launching arrows from the back of their two-wide column with deadly accuracy at any of the soldiers that stood up to fire answering volleys at the surging crowd.

    Their little formation was noticed soon enough, and Mitchell had to admit, they did stand out. Once they were spotted, he called them to a quick stop.

    ¡°Now,¡± Mitchell ordered.

    Khardin turned to look at Vras, who had been squeezed tight between them and one of the stones in his krisa glowed. Immediately Mitchell¡¯s world went black. Not darkroom black, not moonless night black, but black as though submerged in pitch. Involuntarily, Mitchell felt his chest and throat tighten as some instinct told him that, with such a perfect absence of light, there must also be an absence of air but, after choking momentarily, he regained control of his diaphragm and was able to breath normally. The sounds and smells around him had not changed. He heard several people that were within the radius of the spell scream out in terror as their worlds went black as well. And then, just like that, they were in awash once again in Stollar¡¯s morning light.

    Mitchell blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to adjust, and saw that Vras was gone. When he looked ahead, the orb of midnight was moving incredibly fast through the crowd of people and he heard the panicked screams of those who were suddenly blinded by his passing. In moments, it was at the wall and, without pausing, the absence of light leapt over the eight-foot-tall barrier as easily as Mitchell would step over a branch in his path. And then the real screams began.

    ¡°To the wall!¡± Mitchell shouted, knowing that they had ten minutes at best before Vras lost the protection of the spell.

    The crowd had been pushing forward but the attacks from the other side had kept many back. With Vras on the other side now taking all of the attention, there was no stopping the angry mob. All up and down the line people crashed into the wooden barricade and Mitchell and his squad were in the front row.

    Some people began hacking at it with whatever tools they¡¯d brought, others began to dig out at the bottom, assuming the posts couldn¡¯t be buried very deep, and still others pushed. Mitchell thought that was the best option given that the structure wasn¡¯t very high. He began to push and called the others to do the same. It started to give.

    In seconds, a rocking motion began along their section of the wall as people shoved and stepped back, then shoved again. Mitchell could feel the soil loosening beneath his feet as the buried portions began to bulge up to the surface. Cheers went up at the sight of wall beginning to buckle and, with one final heave and the sound of several cracking timbers, the wall collapsed forward enough for them to charge up and over it.

    They emerged into a scene of chaos and death. All around the once manicured ground were the bodies of the dead and dying. Mitchell counted at least fifteen as they moved into the park area, weapons at the ready. His eyes darted around, searching for his companion, and saw that several soldiers were crowded around the base of a large tree, firing off spells into a patch of midnight high up in the branches. The sound of the wall cracking and falling drew their attention, however, and Mitchell and his squad charged towards them.

    With his heart pounding and rage filling his veins at the idea that they were trying to hurt Vras, he met the first startled soldier and cut him down, before stepping to the next. All around him the sound of steel rang in his ears, followed by the explosion of spells. More than once Allora was there, her pommel stone flashing as she caught attacks meant for him and deflected them wide.

    ¡°Thanks, love!¡± he called out to her as she turned towards a man who had just launched something green and sickly looking at the both of them.

    His warrior queen grinned at him savagely, and then took the offending caster¡¯s head clean off his shoulders.

    In moments, the area around the base of the tree where Vras had been hiding was clear and Mitchell could pause to take a breath. His hair was damp with sweat and he was panting, but he found he wasn¡¯t tired. Not really. The adrenaline was pumping too hard for Mitchell to feel fatigued. He felt like he could run a marathon.

    He glanced around and saw the wall had come down in several places and fighting was happening in every direction. Up ahead, just seventy or eighty meters away, was the glittering translucent barrier, and then the palace walls. Unfortunately, between them, there were a lot of soldiers.

    ¡°They¡¯re converging!¡± Elrin called out. ¡°They know where we are.¡±

    Mitchell looked and saw that, across the parkland, squads were yelling and pointing and being drawn in from up and down the line. The fight wasn¡¯t nearly done yet.

    ¡°You¡¯re not worried, are you sister mine?¡± Eldrick taunted.

    ¡°Only that you¡¯ll embarrass me in front of our new lord captain and monarch with your shoddy blade work,¡± Elrin shot back, grinning at her sibling.

    ¡°A crown a piece, then? Like at that battle in Talinspire?¡±

    ¡°You call that a battle?¡± she barked a laugh. ¡°They were little more than pirates.¡±

    ¡°Still, there were more than fifty of them. And it was just you, me and... what was that other fellow¡¯s name?¡±

    ¡°Aye, that was me, ya sniveling dirt lickers!¡± Khardin snapped, glaring at the twins. ¡°And there weren¡¯t fifty, there were only thirty-seven. ¡°Now, look lively. There¡¯s killing to be done. I aim to be in a bunk in the palace by lunch, so don¡¯t let me catch either of you slacking, aye!¡±

    ¡°Yes, sergeant,¡± they both said grinning in unison.

    Mitchell looked to Allora and Lethelin where they stood together at the base of the tree. Lethelin had shouldered her bow and had her rapier in one hand and dagger in the other. Vras was down now, the spell ended, and stood next to Allora. The world was raging all around them but Mitchell had his girls with him and he felt like he could do anything.

    ¡°Ready,¡± he asked them.

    ¡°Lead the way, my lord,¡± Allora said.

    ¡°Nearest gate is to the north,¡± Gilriel said. ¡°There are a lot of soldiers between here and there, but they¡¯re mercenaries, mostly. They¡¯ve been getting fat and lazy. Easy pickings. Everyone swap stones as needed and push north. Let¡¯s move!¡±

 Chapter 88

    It quickly became apparent to Mitchell that the guardsmen or soldiers they¡¯d had on the shoddy barrier had been there merely to inspire a little fear in the locals. The real danger had been held back in reserve for when the wall was overrun.

    As he and the squad turned north to get to the nearest gate, they met the first bit of true resistance, a group of eight soldiers all of whom were better armed and trained than any Mitchell had come up against so far. They seemed used to working as a group and there were two casters among them.

    Immediately spells were fired off, shields cast and answering spells thrown on both sides. Mitchell knew that his weaker spells would have little effect against the superior armor worn by the enemies they now faced, so he saved the effort and worked on using his martial skills. Were he a regular guy, he would have been in serious trouble as his few months of training were no match for career soldiers, but the faster reflexes granted to him by the heart stone more than made up for any difficulty.

    He could feel his power and, even without the full bonding, he was very close to Awen now. As his blade met his first opponent, it was almost like the guy was fighting drunk. Between his enhanced senses and the adrenaline flooding his system, he could see every twitch the burly soldier made, every turn of the hips or the set of the shoulders that would indicate where the man was going with his next strike. Mitchell wasn¡¯t an expert by any means, but he didn¡¯t have to be with his senses and his mind in overdrive like that. It was as though Mitchell were reading a book as his mind processed all the little bits of information and it allowed him to overcome the vast gulf between his training and theirs.

    Around him, he caught glimpses of the battle raging. Thankfully, he saw many guardsmen who had defected and were now fighting against the soldiers who had occupied their city for so long. He wanted to go and defend them, but as he struck down the soldier in front of him and another one took his place, he knew that he could not. If he didn¡¯t make it to the barrier and into the palace, the people who were fighting and dying for him and Allora would have died for nothing.

    ¡°How you holding up?¡± Mitchell called over to Lethelin as they hacked their way through the first set of soldiers. Of all of them, the thief was at the biggest disadvantage, but she seemed to be doing fairly well and Vras was staying by her side.

    ¡°I¡¯d prefer to be sitting up on a rooftop somewhere,¡± she panted as they started to jog foward. ¡°I don¡¯t like attacking dead on, but you guys are moving too fast so it¡¯s keep up or get left behind.¡±

    ¡°You move like a dancer,¡± Vanthella said. ¡°It is most impressive.¡±

    If Lethelin¡¯s face wasn¡¯t already red from exertion, she might have blushed.

    ¡°Thank you, Lady Vanthella!¡±

    ¡°Eyes front!¡± Gilriel called.

    And with that, all chatter cut off as they engaged the next series of soldiers. Mitchell lost himself in the ebb and flow of the battle. Everything was noise and chaos. Lighting spells arced through the air, filling his nose with the smell of ozone. Fire scorched the earth and exploded trees, turning the once peaceful parkland into a hellscape. All around were the sounds of screams. Some in triumph, some in pain. As they pushed forward through the troops, they had to turn around and protect their rear more than once as soldiers caught up from behind. Gem stones were being burned through at a prodigious rate as they fought to counter enemy casters and break up formations of troops angling for them. What had started as a run towards the north quickly became a slow crawl. The word was well and truly out and someone was directing the soldiers to hunt them down and stop them.

    Wounds started accumulating. Hackett, by far the most skilled healer, was relegated to field medic as he tried to keep everyone in fighting shape. Mitchell also helped out where he could since his few spells were of limited use.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t working!¡± Mitchell called out as they fought their way through another group of soldiers. ¡°They¡¯re going to wear us down! We need to do something else.¡±

    ¡°The gate is only a few hundred meters up ahead,¡± Gilriel said.

    ¡°I¡¯m out of mana,¡± Elrin said, panting. She had a blood running down one side of her face and her armor was sporting several new rips, some of which dripped blood.

    ¡°I¡¯m running low as well,¡± Hackett said, his face pale from mana drain.

    To Mitchell¡¯s right just thirty meters away, was the shield.

    All around, people were running, looking for soldiers. Many of them looked wounded and exhausted, but they were still fighting. Mitchell¡¯s party had found a rare space to catch their breath, hiding in the shadow of a pavilion-like structure but he knew they didn¡¯t have much time before they were found.

    ¡°Can¡¯t we just make a run for the shield here?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Can you get us all through?¡± Eldrick asked, as he held a cloth to his sister¡¯s bleeding head.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Mitchell admitted. ¡°And it might drop completely as soon as I cross over. Awen was unable to give any assurances that it would remain in place long enough for me to get to the throne room. But at this rate, I don¡¯t think we can make it to the gate.¡±

    ¡°If we were on the inside of the barrier,¡± Allora said, ¡°and we had time before it dropped, we could get to the gate and make it to the throne room without them hounding our steps.¡±

    ¡°Or,¡± Elrin said, wincing slightly from the pain, ¡°the barrier collapses as soon as Lord Mitchell crosses and every soldier in the city charges in.¡±

    ¡°Six of one, half a dozen of the other,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°Our original plan to get to the gate and bar it behind us is not going to work, I don¡¯t think. There¡¯s just too many and the people can¡¯t be organized to any sort of coordinated defense.¡±

    ¡°Maybe if we had had more time to prepare,¡± Falen offered, speaking up for the first time, ¡°but the riot was the best we could do given the circumstances.¡±

    Mitchell¡¯s mind raced as he tried to make a decision. On the one hand, the barrier might hold out for a short time once he crossed through it. According to Allora, once he had completed the bond and could access the palace defenses, they would win the day. But if the barrier collapsed immediately, it would allow the troops access to every gate and the palace would become overrun in moments. With no monarch on the throne to bring the guardians and protectors online, there would be nothing to stop them.

    ¡°Do you think the barrier will last long enough for me to get to the throne room?¡± Mitchell asked Awen, sending the query through the bond they shared.

    ¡°If it begins to fail, I can try to strengthen it, but the more power I push through the wards and gemstones, the more I risk overloading the entire network. It may be that you gain a few minutes of additional protection only to see it collapse all at once, rather than in stages. Every gemstone that fails puts more stress on those remaining. If I channel my power into some they will degrade faster and that could start a cascade failure across the entire system.¡±

    ¡°I think we will have to risk it,¡± Mitchell told Awen. ¡°Our plan to cross only at the gate is not going to work. We need to cross now, run for the gate and try to get to the throne room before it collapses completely.¡±

    ¡°I will do what I can,¡± Awen said.

    Mitchell returned his focus back to the world around him and told them what he wanted to do.

    ¡°There is a chance that I won¡¯t be able to get you all through and that the barrier will fail entirely once I pass through it. But I don¡¯t think we can make it to the gate otherwise. Our best bet is to try and cross here and then run for the gate before the barrier collapses entirely.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like we risk the dragon¡¯s maw either way,¡± Khardin said.

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Hackett said.

    Vanthella merely shrugged and Edrick and Elrin nodded in unison.

    ¡°What do you want to do?¡± Allora asked.

    ¡°I say we try the barrier. If we keep pushing through, I worry we¡¯ll be overrun. Risking the barrier failing gives us the best chance of success.¡±

    ¡°Alright then, you heard Lord Mitchell,¡± Gilriel snapped, her old instructor voice like a lash across exposed flesh. ¡°On your feet and make for the barrier. Defensive positions as he passes through and we go from there.¡±

    They arose as one, breaking cover. Both in front of their sheltered position and behind, there were squads fighting with citizens, but Mitchell could still hear the call as they were spotted. Without delay, they all broke into a dead sprint as spells and arrows began to fall around them. Mitchell heard someone in the group yell in pain but didn¡¯t dare stop to see who it was.

    Shield spells were flashing up all around as they tried to get clear of the barrage. Mitchell was sure they were going to make it. Just ten more meters. Then something struck him in leg, his arm and side. It felt like he¡¯d taken three nasty punches and his leg and sword arm went numb as he stumbled. His sword fell from his grasp and someone barreled into him from behind both going down in a tangle of arms and legs.

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    ¡°Mitchell!¡± Allora screamed as he struggled to work out what just happened. He looked down and saw blood coming from his leg and arm but whatever had struck him in the chest hadn¡¯t penetrated his armor. There was a sudden streak of black as Vras tore across the grass at the spell caster who¡¯d launched the magical assault. The woman¡¯s eyes went wide in abject terror as she saw her own death come for her. She tried to backpedal but the shadow cat was too fast.

    Vras leapt, all six claws extended, and bore the woman to the ground where he literally shredded her alive in an explosion of blood and viscera. The soldiers who had been charging with her gaped and then Vras was on them, a whirlwind of teeth and claws, many of them dying before they even had a chance to react. The animal tore through their armor as if it were paper, disemboweling one here, hamstringing another there, then casually slashing open a throat as the body fell. Mitchell had never imagined something killing with that kind of speed. It wasn¡¯t just his power that made him terrifying, Vras acted with forethought. He was not a mindless killing machine, he was the physical manifestation of death itself. In seconds, all six were dead with Vras at the center of the carnage like the calm eye in a hurricane of pain. Mitchell finally understood why they inspired such fear and it turned his bones to ice.

    Soldiers that were nearby and witnessed the display turned and ran as Vras emerged, from the carnage literally dripping in blood.

    ¡°Gods above,¡± someone said as Allora knelt beside him, casting healing on his leg and arms.

    ¡°What hit me?¡± Mitchell asked as she pulled him to his feet.

    ¡°Arcane missile,¡± she said, checking him over.

    ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± he told her. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    Vras¡¯s display had broke the nerve of many of the charging soldiers and the citizens and they began to run. Still, Vras wasn¡¯t done yet, and began chasing down stragglers, their screams and cries for mercy mixing in with the sounds of battle all around them.

    ¡°I could have gone my whole life without seeing someone die like that,¡± Lethelin said, looking a little green around the gills.

    ¡°Just remember he¡¯s on our side,¡± Mitchell told her, trying to remind himself of that as well.

    Mitchell saw Hackett, then, the halfling sporting burns down his left side.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    The archer grimaced but nodded.

    ¡°Eldritch fire, my lord. I¡¯ll be fine. I couldn¡¯t get my shield up in time. But the armor took the worst of it.¡±

    Mitchell gave the man¡¯s uninjured shoulder a squeeze. All of them were carrying wounds of one kind of another, but they were still standing.

    ¡°Almost there,¡± he told them.

    They moved as fast as their injured bodies would allow and then Mitchell was in front of the barrier for the first time. About five meters beyond it, stood the imposing wall of multicolored onyx stones. Down about twenty feet to his right was one of the guardians. A twenty-food carving of a male elf holding a giant glaive.

    This close, he could see the shimmer of the magical shield, its color a translucent pink. There were small ripples and eddies, almost like it was a liquid. It was beautiful and hypnotic to watch and Mitchell struggled to pull his eyes away from it.

    He knew that he needed to place his hand against the barrier and it would allow him entrance. The big question was if the quasi-sentient spell¡ªfor he was assured that such large spells like this sometimes took on a life of their own¡ªwould allow the others to pass. He had no idea how that would work but now was the time.

    ¡°Here we go,¡± he said to no one in particular, and he placed his palm on the barrier.

    Immediately he felt a resistance, an almost electrical shock, and the barrier vibrated against his palm. He knew that the initial feeling one got when coming in contact with the barrier was meant to serve as a warning. But if one persisted, the intensity would grow and eventually burn the person to ash.

    He felt that tingle against his palm but then it changed abruptly. There was a... presence in his head. It was tentative, he could sense the hesitation as the awareness flowed through him, as it if was seeking to know him. Around Mitchell, the world went quiet and his vision narrowed down to a tiny point just ahead of him, locked on a swirling section of the barrier. As the feeling moved through his arm and into his chest, he felt it connect with something¡ªpresumably the heart stone¡ªand there was a sense of recognition. Immediately, Mitchell¡¯s hand passed through the substance of the barrier and was through to the other side.

    The presence in his mind receded and the world came back into startling focus. Around him his friends had taken up a defensive ring as suddenly there were troops coming from every direction. He didn¡¯t know how that had happened but somehow the spell had played with his perception of time. It had felt like only seconds to him, but clearly it had been longer than that. He looked around and saw that Lethelin was on the ground, blood pouring from a wound in her head, and Hackett was trying to heal her. How long had he been out?

    ¡°I¡¯m through!¡± Mitchell screamed, and Allora dared a look back.

    ¡°Grab Lethelin, see if she can pass through the barrier with you!¡± Allora yelled, and fired off a crackling burst of electricity that struck an approaching soldier in his chest and neck setting the man¡¯s flesh boiling and causing his eyes to explode. ¡°Hurry!¡±

    Mitchell didn¡¯t have to be told twice. He reached down, grabbed Lethelin by the front of her leather armor, and heaved her up over his shoulder and began to push his whole body through the barrier. Suddenly, there was resistance. He felt her body stall at the magical barrier and heard a sizzling sound. The barrier was burning Lethelin¡¯s skin.

    ¡°No!¡± Mitchell yelled out. ¡°It¡¯s not letting her through!¡±

    ¡°Then leave her! Get to the throne room yourself!¡± Allora yelled, her sword flashing to stop an arrow. ¡°Awen can guide you there.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not leaving you all here to die!¡± Mitchell yelled.

    ¡°You must, Mitchell!¡± Allora said. ¡°It is more important than us!¡±

    Mitchell turned and stared at the barrier. He would not leave them here. He would not do this without them. Not without Allora and Lethelin. There had to be a way!

    Mitchell stuck his hand back into the barrier and tried to find that sensation again, that awareness.

    ¡°My lord, what are you doing!¡± Gilriel yelled to him. ¡°Get inside the barrier!¡±

    Mitchell pushed her voice from his mind and focused. Where was it?

    ¡°I am the monarch,¡± Mitchell said to the spell, trying to will it to hear him, to understand. ¡°You must let those with me come in as well. I command it.¡±

    The seconds ticked like molasses on cold glass.

    ¡°Please!¡± Mitchell begged, hearing his friends fight for their lives behind him. ¡°Please!¡±

    The presence was there, in his mind once more. It was friendly. It didn¡¯t speak, Mitchell didn¡¯t know how he knew what it was feeling, but he could. Mitchell tried to talk to it. He tried to send it the image of the others and imagined them passing through the barrier.

    There was a sense of wrongness in response. The barrier was rejecting them. It was a simple mind that understood only a few basic things. Mitchell could feel it understood its purpose and the exception that was allowed. They were not part of the exception.

    ¡°Awen, can you help?¡± Mitchell said, trying to divide his attention between the barrier consciousness and her. ¡°Can you help it understand? It is a thing of you.¡±

    ¡°The barrier is beginning to fail, Mitchell,¡± came Awen¡¯s response. Her voice, normally so placid and soothing, contained a note of stress. ¡°I am trying to balance the load.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not letting the others through. Can you influence it?¡±

    ¡°I... I will try.¡±

    Seconds ticked by like years. Mitchell wanted to scream in frustration but he knew that wouldn¡¯t help.

    ¡°I think I have done it,¡± Awen said, sounding almost tired. ¡°Try again.¡±

    Without wasting another second Mitchell walked through the barrier with an unconscious Lethelin on his shoulder and she passed through without issue.

    ¡°Fuck yeah!¡± Mitchell screamed in English, and set her down as gently as he could.

    He turned then and jumped back through to the other side.

    ¡°Everyone grab onto me!¡± he yelled a fireball struck the combined shields of Eldrick, Elrin, and Gilriel. Khardin screamed out as some of the flames found his flesh.

    ¡°To the nine hells with you, you dirt licking sacks of goblin nuts!¡± the battle-hardened dwarf screamed, and then his krisa flashed so brightly that Mitchell could see it even in the daylight and while standing behind him.

    Immediately just in front of the dwarf, a large, green sphere formed in the air, about the size of a basketball, and it streaked toward the line of soldiers that were pressing their advantage. Mitchell saw one or two of the casters¡¯ eyes go wide as their shield spells went up but the regular soldiers were not so lucky. The sphere sped straight into their line and exploded with a shower of green liquid that covered everyone within about twenty feet. The screams were deafening as weapons, armor, and flesh began to melt. Only the casters within the blast radius who¡¯d gotten their shields up in time were spared that horrible fate.

    ¡°Now!¡± Mitchell yelled into the pause in the fight that the spell had created. ¡°Grab ahold and get behind the barrier! That¡¯s an order!¡±

    The group of harried knights began to take backwards steps, reaching hands back for Mitchell while they tried to maintain focus on the fight. One by one, they found his outstretched arms and then Mitchell practically fell back behind the barrier, several of them landing on top of him, forcing the breath from his lungs.

    ¡°You did it, my lord!¡± Elrin yelled, pulling herself up.

    Mitchell saw she was limping badly as she attempted to help the others to their feet.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Mitchell groaned as he sat up. ¡°Come on. We need to hurry. The barrier is failing and we don¡¯t have much time.

    Even as he spoke, Mitchell heard the sound of explosions coming from within the onyx wall. The gemstones that powered the wards were exploding. The barrier rippled with the sudden failure, even as they watched.

    Mitchell leaned down and picked up Lethelin and put her over his shoulder. She was still unconscious.

    ¡°Wait, where¡¯s Vras?¡±

    ¡°He was harrying their back line the last I saw him,¡± Vanthella said. ¡°He was not with us when you were getting through the barrier.¡±

    Mitchell turned and scanned out over the heads of the massing soldiers who were gathering just behind the barrier, shouting and cursing at them, several of them testing the barrier with their weapons, or launching magical attacks.

    ¡°My lord, we must go,¡± Gilriel said, her voice pleading. ¡°We need to get you into the throne room before the barrier collapses if we can. The shadow cat can fend for himself.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t leave you behind, and I¡¯m not leaving him behind,¡± Mitchell said, his voice hard. ¡°But let¡¯s get moving toward the gate. Vras will catch up.¡±

    They began a half jog, a half walk along the wall, heading for the gate that was close enough for Mitchell to see. The soldiers kept pace with them, promising all manner of revenge, neither he or his group had the energy to fire any taunts back at them. Mitchell heard more popping sounds from within the wall and the barrier shuddered again. Up ahead Mitchell saw a large tree, nearly as high as the wall itself, standing back about forty feet from the wall on the other side of the magical shield. As he watched, a black shape leapt from one of the branches right at the barrier.

    ¡°Vras?¡± Mitchell called out, ¡°No!¡±

    The barrier wouldn¡¯t let him through without Mitchell there to hold on to him and it might even kill him if he tried to force his way through.

    But, to his utter shock, the shadow cat passed through the barrier and landed on the onyx wall, just near the gate, his claws digging into the stone with enough force that he was able to slide down leaving claw marks and sending shards of onyx flying in all directions. Then he came trotting up as if nothing was amiss and began sniffing at Lethelin¡¯s head wound.

    They whole party had stopped to stare at him. Even the soldiers had taken several stepped back, no longer trusting the barrier to keep them safe from the shadow cat that had cut down so many of their fellows.

    ¡°How did you do that?¡± Mitchell asked him.

    Vras looked at the barrier and then at Mitchell.

    ¡°I am gratha,¡± he said, as if that explained everything.

    Mitchell pressed for more information.

    ¡°There are gaps in this magic,¡± Vras said at last. ¡°When I saw one, I jumped through it.¡±

    Mitchell marveled at this creature but before he had time to question any further, there were three more small explosions from within the wall and Mitchell suddenly remembered they had a rather pressing task to complete.

    Moving as quickly as they could, they got to the gate. Mitchell placed his hand against the ornate brass as he¡¯d been instructed and he felt that awareness again. From within the frame, there was a click and the door swung open. With Lethelin on his shoulder and Allora at his side, he stepped within the palace walls.

 Chapter 89

    The palace proper was not what Mitchell had expected, but then he realized that he¡¯d never been to any palace before, so he had nothing with which to compare it. The fact that it had been essentially abandoned for the last two years probably wasn¡¯t helping much, either.

    Once the gate clicked shut behind them, and they made it through the fifteen-foot-thick wall, everyone paused to take a breath. They were, for the moment, safe. Exhausted to a man, all sported wounds of varying severity. The exception was Vras, who ¨C though covered in blood ¨C seemed unhurt. For the moment, they were safe.

    The main building was to Mitchell¡¯s right, perhaps half a kilometer from where they stood. They appeared to have come in through some sort of business entrance. There was an abandoned guard station just to the left of where the passageway through the walls ended, and then the once-manicured path weaved forward deeper into the palace proper, branching off to what looked like administrative structures or perhaps staff housing. Mitchell couldn¡¯t be sure, but the bland look of government buildings seemed to be the same in any universe.

    On his shoulder, Lethelin groaned, and Mitchell suddenly remembered himself. He laid her down as gently as he could and checked her over. She had a nasty head wound above her left eye that had flayed open her scalp to the bone. The little bit of healing they¡¯d been able to do with their dwindling mana supplies had stopped the profuse bleeding at least.

    ¡°That¡¯s no good,¡± Hackett said, seeing the wound in more detail. ¡°Anyone have any mana left?¡±

    ¡°Save it,¡± Mitchell said and reached into his small pack. ¡°We¡¯ll likely need it and I can cover this.¡±

    There sound of exploding gemstones could still be heard in the still air and Mitchell knew they had only minutes before the barrier collapsed completely. If holes were developing that a shadow cat could jump through, the soldiers would be arriving soon enough. Luckily, Vras could see magic.

    Mitchell rooted around until he felt cool glass beneath is fingers and emerged with the healing potion they¡¯d found a few days prior in the abandoned warehouse.

    When Eldrick saw the potion, he gave a whistle.

    ¡°Those have been hard to come by,¡± he said. ¡°Where did you get that?¡±

    ¡°Found it,¡± Mitchell told him as he pried the cork free and started to dribble it into Lethelin¡¯s mouth. It had a warm, amber color and it was slightly thick, almost like warm syrup.

    ¡°You¡­ found it?¡±

    Mitchell only nodded and watched Lethelin¡¯s face for a reaction. After a moment, the unconscious woman coughed, then spluttered and started to swallow the healing liquid. Mitchell watched and, within seconds, the lacerated skin on her forehead began to knit itself back together. Her eyes snapped open and Mitchell placed his hand under her neck to help her sit up.

    ¡°Drink it all,¡± he told her softly, as he watched her struggle to focus.

    After a few seconds, she had the presence of mind to hold the potion to her lips and swallow the contents, then she leaned into his arm and closed her eyes as the potion went to work. Within a minute, the wound was healed and Lethelin was coming around.

    Allora took out a cloth from somewhere and wet it from her waterskin, then wiped the blood away from Lethelin¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°You gave us a fright,¡± Allora said gently. ¡°Can you walk?¡±

    Lethelin started to speak, but only managed a weak croak at first. Allora offered her some of the water which she drank greedily.

    ¡°I¡¯ll bloody well walk out of here,¡± she said, after clearing her throat. Lethelin¡¯s voice was still a little weak, but better.

    ¡°On your feet, then,¡± Allora told her with a smile. ¡°There is still a kingdom to save.¡±

    Lethelin nodded and Mitchell pulled her up. She swayed a little and Mitchell had to support her with his arm, but she got her bearings and was able to stand on her own.

    ¡°You¡¯re not looking so hot, yourself,¡± Lethelin said, grimacing at the sight of Allora.

    The lord captain did indeed look almost as battered and bruised as the thief, but she only shrugged.

    ¡°We are alive and we are here. The wounds can be healed later.¡±

    The quiet was punctuated by several muffled explosions and everyone jumped.

    ¡°The shield is failing, Mitchell. I can do no more. Already there are gaps that the soldiers have begun to exploit. You have maybe one or two minutes before it is down completely. I can sense them already moving through and heading towards the gates.¡±

    As if to emphasize Awen¡¯s words, a loud booming sound came echoing through the corridor that they had just emerged from. Their enemies were trying to get in.

    ¡°Time to go!¡±

    ¡°One moment,¡± Khardin said. ¡°My mana has refilled a bit. I think I can slow them a little. At least from this gate.¡±

    The dwarf stuck out his hands and a gemstone flashed. Then, a few feet inside the corridor, the path began to bulge upward, dirt and rock surging up from beneath the ground to fill the space above it, stretching all the way up to the top of the arched passageway. Khardin held the spell as long as he could, then slumped in exhaustion and clutched his head.

    ¡°Spent, aye. Won¡¯t be much good with magic for a bit.¡±

    ¡°You did plenty,¡± Mitchell said, clapped him on the back. ¡°Every bit helps.¡±

    Mitchell turned and looked at the palace.

    ¡°Most direct route, if you please, Allora.¡±

    Behind him, there came a staccato popping sound that reminded Mitchell of setting off strings of fireworks on the 4th of July, only much louder. It rippled all up and down the walls of the palace and Mitchell actually felt the vibrations through the soles of his feet. The sound filled the air and stretched for a good thirty seconds before all was quiet again. Everyone was looking up at the sky and they saw the last translucent wisps of the barrier vanish, like fog under a noonday sun.

    ¡°That¡¯s it then,¡± Vanthella said, her voice almost startling in the sudden quiet as even the people outside were stunned into silence.

    ¡°Double time!¡± Mitchell half shouted into the stillness.

    Moving as fast as they could, their battered group began a halting sort of jog down the path towards the palace.

    ***

    The sounds of explosions picked up relatively quickly. Falen received an update via a message spell from one of his bodyguards that the crowds had forced the soldiers back and they were clustered around the large main gate and two of the smaller ones trying to gain entry. Fighting was fierce, but the soldiers, now that they weren¡¯t so spread out, were having a much easier time fending them off. To Mitchell¡¯s relief, many of the city guardsman had turned against the occupiers and were providing some much-needed organization to the battle beyond the walls. Still, there were more soldiers than there were guardsmen so without the assistance of the palace defenses, they would eventually be pushed back. It sounded like things were settling into a stalemate as the soldiers fortified their positions around the entrances and people began pulling back because of heavy casualties.

    It didn¡¯t take long for them to see the remains of the people who died in the battle that toppled the kingdom. Once-manicured lawns and topiary, now grown wild, could not hide all the bodies that laid where they had fallen. Tattered clothes, livery, rusted out armor, and bones were all that were left of the men and women who had died that night. Mitchell saw it, but tried not to dwell on the spectacle of so much death. More than once they had to move around bodies that had fallen in the path, some of them wearing the armor of Onyx Knights. Mitchell could almost feel the anger building among them with the sigh of each new decomposed body. His sensitive nose could still detect the lingering scent of death, but it wasn¡¯t too bad.

    As they passed various buildings, the results of fire were also all around them. Some structures had been reduced to hollowed out husks or rubble. Some only had scorch marks around a few shattered windows. The destruction appeared random as befits the chaos of a battle.

    ¡°How long did the people have to get out once Baylor died?¡± Mitchell said as they crossed near a fountain with fetid water filling the basin.

    ¡°Ten minutes,¡± Allora said. ¡°Alarms sounded immediately upon his death and that is how long it takes for the barrier spell to charge up.¡±

    ¡°Seems like a bad plan,¡± Mitchell said, contemplating the situation. ¡°They could have just brought in enough people to break the walls from the inside and start shattering the stones and runes that held up the shield.¡±

    ¡°I do not think they intended to kill Baylor that first night,¡± Allora said. ¡°I suspect they wanted to capture him to prevent this precise situation. Capture him, destroy the throne, and then kill him and destroy the heart stone. They succeeded in only one of their goals.¡±

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    ¡°Small favors,¡± Mitchell thought to himself.

    After trekking through another park or two and what looked to be some sort of training ground, the palace was before him. Mitchell had never been to France and seen the palace at Versailles, but he¡¯d seen pictures often enough. This one wasn¡¯t quite as ornate as what he remembered from photos of its Parisian counterpart. It was a bit more utilitarian, but it was still beautiful.

    In contrast to the wall, the palace was constructed of a dark gray stone with onyx used only as accents. It framed windows, delineated floors, and had been carved into beautiful statuary and gargoyles. It gave the palace an almost gothic look, even if it didn¡¯t have all the spires that one might associate with a medieval cathedral.

    The building was four stories high and as they approached one of the walls, Allora turned them down the left rather than towards the front of the building.

    ¡°We will use a servant¡¯s entrance,¡± she said by way of explanation. ¡°If they breach one of the gates, let them waste time trying to get through the larger doors.¡±

    This close to the palace there were many more bodies, and Mitchell did his best not to focus on the number. Instead, he studied the large structure in front of him, trying to keep himself distracted from all the bones poking through the overgrown grass.

    Up ahead he saw a rather plain set of double doors set into an out-of-the-way alcove.

    ¡°Gardener¡¯s entrance,¡± Allora said as they came up to it. Then she looked at Mitchell. ¡°You must open it first, it will respond to your touch.¡±

    Mitchell walked up to the door and reached out for the handle. Once his fingers closed around the rusted iron latch, he felt another presence intrude upon his thoughts. It was different than the previous one in a way that was hard to discern. It felt simpler, somehow. There was no sense that it understood anything beyond the series of conditionals it was designed to operate under. Before Mitchell could see if there was anything deeper beneath the surface, he felt that spark of recognition as the magic connected with the heart stone in his chest. Then, there was a click within the door and Mitchell gave it a tug. It opened with a squeal as rusted hinges, long immobile, were forced into operation once more.

    They came in to a store room. Mitchell could see rows upon rows of gardening implements and, beyond the dusty shelves across the room, a door that led deeper into the palace. Before they had made it all the way across the room, the floor shook and they heard the sound of a massive explosion.

    ¡°I guess they got the main gates open,¡± Eldrick said. ¡°They¡¯ll be here soon.¡±

    Gilriel nodded and they pushed forward.

    Everything was a blur as Mitchell followed behind Allora, her memory of the palace guiding them. They ran down long corridors with more bodies at every turn. The fighting must have been intense. He saw shattered wood, glass, windows. Holes blown into walls, scorch marks from various different magical attacks or just plain old fire.

    Mitchell looked at Allora as they traversed the seemingly never-ending maze of corridors and saw her eyes bright with tears and her lips pressed tightly together, but her footsteps never wavered. Around him, he heard the others cursing at the sight of the destruction. None of them had been here when the palace fell. Likely, this was the first time they had seen it in decades. Mitchell knew for a fact that it had been close to a hundred years since Gilriel had set foot within these halls. Looks of anger, sadness, and shock were clear on all their faces.

    Finally, they emerged into a grand hall.

    ¡°Oh wow,¡± Mitchell said as he took in the grandeur of the room.

    ¡°The Hall of the Sun,¡± Gilriel said, a note of awe present in her voice as it echoed around the cavernous room.

    It was magnificent. It was open all the way up to the ceiling, nearly sixty feet. To his right was a massive set of double doors that Mitchell assumed led outside. There was another set at the opposite end that were smaller, but no less ornate in their design. Stairways that led to the upper floors and, beyond the balconies, Mitchell could just make out more halls that stretched back into the palace.

    Huge fluted columns spaced equidistant around the edges and made of pure black onyx stretched all the way to the frescoed ceiling. As Mitchell scanned upward he saw a massive glass dome that allowed the sunlight to come pouring down so brightly that it looked to Mitchell as though it might be a physical thing. Set squarely in the middle of the room and directly underneath the glass dome was a ten-foot tall statue of a nude man wrought in white marble with veins of gold. His face was angular and beautiful. The eyes, also made of gold, shown with an inner radiance that, despite their metallic nature, looked alive. Mitchell felt a sense of great age and power coming from the stern face. Just looking at it made him want to bow and prostrate himself before the stone visage.

    One muscular arm was held aloft, the fingers extended almost as if it were calling forth the light. In the opposite hand there was a long scepter cradled in the crook of the elbow, the end burning with actual flame. The longer Mitchell stared, the surer he was that the statue was breathing; that an invisible wind was blowing the shoulder-length hair, and that those golden eyes were watching and judging him. But then Mitchell would blink, and the effect would end, only to start again if he stared too long.

    With an effort, Mitchell pulled his eyes away from the enchanting figure that he was sure was Stollar, and he took in the rest of the details. It was then he noticed the floor. The marble floor was made with a black tile that had veins of gold running through it and Mitchell realized he had seen its like before. It was the same as the material that the statue of Denass had been made of in Besari. The gold here glimmered in the light and Mitchell swore that it was moving through the tiles like a lazy river but thought it must have been a trick of the light. The black tiles had a similar effect of pulling his gaze and Mitchell felt like he was looking down into infinity before quickly growing dizzy. Trying to stop the effect, he pulled his eyes away from the floor and took in the rest of the room as best he could.

    Between each column was a statue of some sort, each one seven to eight feet tall, and each one armed. They were made up of all races, male, female, and others, Mitchell couldn¡¯t be sure. They were all carved in different clothes, some simple robes, others armor, others nude. He guessed what those were. Luckily for Mitchell¡¯s tortured mind, none of them had the same sorts of qualities that Stollar did, or the tiles for that matter.

    ¡°Beyond there lies the throne room,¡± Allora said, indicating the doors to the left. Mitchell could hear the strain in her voice. None of them spoke of the bones that littered the floor here and all avoided looking at them. ¡°We made it.¡±

    Mitchell turned to her and he saw her trying to smile but the pain of seeing the destruction in the palace was too much for her to manage more than a flicker.

    ¡°Let¡¯s not waste time, then,¡± he told her.

    As one, they crossed the black tile, through the light of the dome and, as he passed through it, Mitchell felt a sudden peace come over him. Much of his weariness passed away, the ache in his sword arm vanished. Around him he noticed the same effect in the others. All of them straightened, their tired bodies looking strong, once more.

    ¡°The Healing Light,¡± Vanthella said, and he saw tears of joy in her eyes. ¡°I had forgotten it. I...¡±

    But she stopped and swallowed back what she was about to say. Mitchell saw the other knights all similarly affected.

    ¡°Aye,¡± Khardin said, his voice thick with emotion. ¡°Aye, so did I.¡±

    There were smiles then among all of them. Lethelin was looking around in awe, too overcome with emotion to do much more than grin. And Mitchell didn¡¯t know why, but he felt like smiling, too.

    ¡°All who pass through Stollar¡¯s light with good intent can feel his blessing and gain healing from minor ailments,¡± Allora explained as they began to walk again.

    ¡°That¡¯s amazing,¡± he told her.

    She grabbed his hand, and together they walked to the throne room doors.

    As before, Mitchell placed his hand on the door and it granted him access. This time, the doors swung open under their own power and Mitchell¡¯s eyes dazzled.

    The room was round, about fifty or sixty feet in diameter, and the doors opened up directly opposite the throne, which dominated the far side of the room, raised up on a dais with eight steps. It was made of pure onyx that Allora had told him had come directly from Awen¡¯s geode deep within the earth. It had been shaped or grown into a chair, but with shards of the priceless material jutting up about five feet at its highest point to form the back of the throne which fanned out in a semi-circular pattern. The stone glowed with an inner light that Mitchell had seen only once before. The day he¡¯d taken the heart stone and had the vision of Awen inside her geode, the onyx there had illuminated with the same light.

    Compared to the ornate Hall of the Sun, the throne room was fairly simple. It was largely white, albeit the tile floor was the same gold-veined marble that made up the statue of Stollar they¡¯d just passed. It also had a vaulted ceiling, though not as high as the hall, and a glass dome at its peak. Light poured into the room from all sides, but it didn¡¯t have the cleansing feeling of the light they¡¯d just passed through. There was a double row of chairs all around the room made of some soft plush material and Mitchell could see a few doors that led off into parts unknown.

    Perhaps the most striking feature of the room¡ªbesides the throne¡ªwas the statue of two dragons carved in bas-relief on the wall behind the throne. Even from the far side of the room, Mitchell could see the exquisite detail that had gone into the carving. One was white, the other, black. Each scale was expertly carved. Each ridge, horn, and spike from their heads precise in their imperfections. Mitchell could have spent an hour just going over all the lines.

    Behind the group the Hall of the Sun echoed with a massive boom, and they all jumped.

    ¡°They¡¯re here,¡± Gilriel said. ¡°Get to the throne! We¡¯ll hold them off until you complete the bonding.¡±

    Mitchell nodded and looked around at his team. They were healed up by the light, but there were still a lot of soldiers out there and only a handful of them. He turned to Vras who had been plodding along quietly since they made it inside the grounds.

    ¡°Stay out here in the hall where it¡¯s darker. Pick them off as you can and try to buy the others time.¡±

    Vras flicked his ears and loped away on silent paws.

    ¡°Will these doors lock when we close them?¡± Mitchell asked.

    ¡°They will if you tell them to,¡± Allora said.

    Another explosion rocked the hall and dust drifted down from overhead as the walls shook.

    Mitchell ushered everyone out of the way and shut the double doors. Then he reached for the presence that held sway over the palace and tried to get it to lock the door. He pushed the command at the magical entity, and it responded, a satisfying thunk letting everyone know that the deed was done. Without further comment, Mitchell jogged for the throne.

    ¡°What do I do?¡± he said to the Awen, seeking the connection in his mind.

    ¡°You need only sit, and I will do the rest.¡±

    ¡°Will it be painful?¡± Mitchell asked as he mounted the steps. The throne seemed to grow in his vision as he got closer to it, the light within pulsing faster.

    ¡°No, Mitchell Allen. It is not painful.¡±

    As Mitchell had climbed the dais, the rest of the knights and Falen spread out in the room and started taking up positions as best they could. There weren¡¯t many places to get cover in here, and it would be nasty fighting if it came to that. It all depended on how soon Mitchell could complete the bond.

    Allora and Lethelin were beside him, both looking worried. As he turned, he pulled Allora to him and kissed her, then did the same to Lethelin.

    ¡°Just like a man to sit on his ass while the women do all the work,¡± Lethelin said, trying to disguise her fear with a joke.

    Mitchell smiled at her as he sat in the throne. It was surprisingly comfortable, and warm. He could feel it molding to his body.

    ¡°We will protect you,¡± Allora said, her eyes hard and her face a mask of determination.

    He nodded and they all watched as the crystal of the throne began to grow and encase him. It started at his feet and began to move up his legs. Mitchell¡¯s heart was beating in his chest as he watched it. The sense of being entombed was inescapable.

    ¡°Do not fear,¡± Awen said calmly into his mind.

    The onyx was flowing over his torso now, moving up to his neck. Mitchell¡¯s chest was tight and he struggled to control his breathing. As the living crystal flowed up over his neck, he looked at each of them.

    ¡°I love you both. I¡¯ll see you soon.¡±

    And with those words, the crystal flowed over his mouth, nose, and eyes, and Mitchell was fully entombed.

 Chapter 90

    The sound of another explosion rocked the palace, and Allora and Lethelin both jumped. Before the echoes had even died away, there was a great crashing noise and the floor shook again. Windows rattled in their frames and several cracked.

    ¡°That would be the main doors,¡± Hackett said with a frown. ¡°Bunch of jivi fucking whoresons.¡±

    Allora stepped down from the dais and crossed to the front of the throne room doors, standing about ten feet back. She could already hear the sounds of the soldiers filling the room beyond. Just like before. Just like that night. The sounds of people screaming, fighting, and dying. Invaders in the palace. In her home. She drew her sword slowly and, with her free hand, swapped out all three stones in her krisa for fresh ones.

    They had invaded her home, killed her friends, her parents, and the monarch. They had driven her into hiding, chasing her for two years, even to another world. They had tried all they could to kill her, but they had failed. She would run no longer. Now it was time for vengeance. None would get past her.

    ¡°You¡¯re just going to stand there?¡± Lethelin spoke up, her voice tight with nerves.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you... I don¡¯t know, hide or take up some defensive position?¡±

    ¡°I will run no longer. I will never hide again.¡±

    Allora didn¡¯t mean for her voice to sound so cold, but her mind had gone quiet. Distant. She saw nothing but the door in front of her. She felt nothing but the light touch of the stones in her krisa against her head, the lines of the pommel against her hand, and the surging of mana in her chest. She was the eye of the storm. She was the spark in the dragon¡¯s maw. She had come to it at last, and she would have her revenge.

    ¡°You¡¯re freaking me out a little, Lora,¡± Lethelin said.

    Allora didn¡¯t bother to respond. She waited and she watched, her feet planted, her sword tip resting on the floor, both hands on the pommel.

    ¡°Lethelin, get over here, you silly girl,¡± Allora heard Gilriel snap, but her voice was far away.

    ¡°Something¡¯s wrong with Allora,¡± the thief said.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about her, post up behind the throne with that bow and start picking off anyone that gets through our line. You hear?¡±

    The first attack came against the throne room door, thunderous in the enclosed space, but Allora did not flinch. She was the razor edge of the blade, flawless and without mercy. She was vengeance, two years delayed, but coming nonetheless. None would get past her.

    ***

    ¡°Balls! Balls! Balls! Balls and bloody fucking taint!¡± Lethelin swore to herself as she sprinted up the dais steps and behind the glowing throne that held Mitchell inside, doing Stollar-knew-what to him.

    Lethelin had heard of the throne her whole life, but she never thought she¡¯d actually get to see it. Nine hells, she never thought anything like this would ever happen to her.

    ¡°Allora sure picked the perfect time to go all catatonic,¡± she muttered as she unslung her bow and grabbed the arrows from her quiver.

    ¡°Oh balls!¡± she swore as she saw how many she had left. Only twelve, and then five of her specialty arrows.

    She really didn¡¯t want to have to fight the approaching force head on, but she knew she would run out of arrows long before they ran out of soldiers. As she shifted, her foot hit her pack and something rolled out of it.

    Lethelin looked down at the sound, as the white bottle she¡¯d picked up from the warehouse came to a stop at the back of the throne. She picked up and tried not to drop it when the next attack came against the throne room doors.

    ¡°I never did figure out what you did,¡± she said, starring at it.

    She bounced it in her fingers and contemplated taking the potion now. She figured it probably couldn¡¯t hurt. Just then there was another loud crash and the throne room doors bulged precipitously and the frame around several of the hinges ripped free of wall.

    ¡°Not yet,¡± she told the bottle, setting it down carefully out of the way. ¡°But maybe.¡±

    Instead, she picked up her armor breaking arrow. Likely the first ones through would be the most heavily armored and this was a very bright room. It would give the skitterback blood in the glass arrowhead a bit of extra punch.

    Outside, the sounds of triumph became louder and through the gaps around the failing door, Lethelin could see movement, as they positioned to deliver the final blow. Lethelin steadied her breathing, calling forth that cool, calm center she always sought when using her bow. It wasn¡¯t too dissimilar to when she fought with her blades, but there was no music. Whenever Lethelin was dancing with her blades she always thought she could detect music just beyond her hearing, and sometimes she thought it guided her steps. But not so with the bow.

    With her hand around the grip and her fingers clipping the shaft around the fletching, she heard only the silence between her heartbeats and her slow, deliberate breathing. Her eyes sought the tip of the glass arrowhead, focusing there, and then moved to the door.

    Time almost seemed to slow for her. She knew from long practice now that she was in that in between space. Where her eyes tracked, the arrow would follow. Her body would make the minute adjustments necessary to send the arrow where it needed to go. This close, it wasn¡¯t even a challenge.

    The doors blasted outward and clattered to the ground, the cast bronze warped and smoking. Lethelin let out a breath and her eyes caught the first hint of movement in the dust and smoke, and ¨C delicate as a fairy¡¯s wing, she released the armor piercer. Lethelin could feel it connect to the target in a way she could never properly explain. But when a shot was good, she always knew it. And this one was good.

    As the big man, a half-orc by the looks of him, nearly seven feet tall and wearing full plate came charging into the room, his great sword already in motion, Lethelin¡¯s arrow was there to meet him. The black glass struck the hard steel of his breastplate and shattered to dust, exposing the caustic liquid inside to Stollar¡¯s holy light and the reaction was near instantaneous. The fireball detonated through the metal and into the man¡¯s chest and blew a hole at least three times as big as the one it made going in, splattering those behind him with shards of steel, bone, and gore as the man flew backward several feet.

    Lethelin didn¡¯t see that part, though. She knew well enough what the armor piercer did. She was already grabbing her next arrow.

    ***

    ¡°There! Movement on the second level!¡± one of the two legs cried from below. ¡°Get up there!¡±

    Vras liked the idea of fighting in this giant two-leg den much more than he did fighting outside underneath the sun. True, it was quite fun to be able to run down the terrified two-legs as fear made the blood sweeter, but he was, by nature, a creature of stealth. And now that he was in the shadows, his illusions would be much more effective.

    Vras had extended his palps and displayed the illusion of Tar Ara¡¯tiss near the edge of the platform, making it appear as if she were turning away and running. Once the illusion disappeared from the sights of the two-legs below, he ended it. He could not maintain his illusions very long, but in the rush of battle, he didn¡¯t need to. The two-legs were panicked and the smell of their fear was intoxicating. Already, Vras heard the pounding of their feet as they ascended.

    He waited, narrowing his eyes and retracting the palps to hug his back. His body was tucked up on the ceiling of one of the passages, deep in the shadows. There were no windows to the outside here, and the glow from the magical light was muted.

    ¡°I thought she was in the throne room!¡± shouted one two-legs.

    ¡°They might have split up! There¡¯s five of us, don¡¯t worry about it.¡±

    Vras¡¯s claws flexed into the wood and the powerful muscles along his back began to tighten. Their fearful scent was a heady perfume that was so thick it almost made him dizzy. His teeth ached with the need to rip their fleshy bodies asunder and feel the splash of their blood on his tongue and running down his fur. He would need to kill one of them slowly so as to further terrify the others below. Well, not too slowly. There wasn¡¯t time for that.

    ¡°The second passage, troll brain!¡±

    Their footsteps grew closer now, the sound like small explosions to his sensitive ears. Vras¡¯s whole body began to quiver but not yet. Not yet.

    The five two-legs came charging into the dim corridor weapons raised their eyes scanning ahead for the false Tar Ara¡¯tiss. Scanning ahead, but not above. As the last one passed beneath him, Vras released his hold on the ceiling and lunged.

    The screams. The beautiful screams. And oh, so much blood.

    ***

    When stories spread afterward of the Battle of the Onyx Throne, few believed the more outlandish retellings though some did. Others assumed the tale was an apocryphal yarn meant to inspire patriotism in the days after. Because what was described could not be true, they told themselves. Everyone knew that the Onyx Knights were fearsome. No one doubted that, not in Awenor or in any of the seven kingdoms. But for one woman to do all that¡­ Do not be absurd, the call would ring out in taverns across Awenor, and eventually Iletish, Kazig, Islivaria, and all the rest. The tale was sometimes celebrated, the bard songs cheered, but it was just as often that the teller would be shouted down and warned not to spread such nonsense. They were nice, sensible people and wanted none of those troll leavings in their nice, sensible taverns and villages. The knights are skilled but they are still mortal! But as with all tales become legend that then fade into myth, the truth is somewhere in between.

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Of the stories that were written down after the battle, the most trusted, came from those few survivors who charged the throne room that warm spring day. They told a wide-eyed tale of, not a woman, but of a black-haired, violet-eyed demon. They said that inside that throne room a portal opened from the Nine Hells and death emerged. Ghosts of the fallen arose from the sun stone and struck down the enemies of Awenor. Some say it was Denass herself emerging from the void stone to claim the souls of the invaders.

    While the stories disagree on just who or what empowered the lord captain that fateful day, none disagree that she was a beautiful and terrible sight to behold. Soldiers fell before her blade like wheat before a scythe. Her magic charred bodies and ripped them apart. She fought without mercy, gave no quarter, and her blood-streaked face sent terror into all who looked upon her. Those who survived would be haunted by the sound of her vengeance for the rest of their days.

    But, while every warrior in the purple and black acquitted themselves well that day, and showed for all the world to see what it means to bring the wrath of the Onyx Knights, they were just mere mortals. So then where did the tales of the ghosts come from? On that, the stories have little to offer. Men and women dropped dead, their throats cut open, despite being nowhere near the battle. Casters suddenly found their magic useless and were cut down, no shield spells to protect them. Those that survived that bloody day say all they saw were flickers at the corner of their vision before the man next to them died.

    And all of this is to say nothing of the unnamed horror that stalked the halls of the Onyx Palace, that left every soldier who entered those empty passages a ruin. The blood still seeps up from the floor and drips from the walls even now. In the true dark before first moon rise, the screams of those dying men still echo through the corridors and give nightmares to the uninitiated. What it was, no one is sure. More demons, perhaps? More ghosts of the fallen knights? The angry spirit of Baylor seeking his own revenge? Some say that dark rituals were held in the palace and they summoned creatures from other worlds that mortal minds simply cannot comprehend. But whatever it was, it left only blood and bodies in its wake and it is still unsafe to walk those empty halls to this very day.

    Or so the tales say.

    But, as is always the case, the truth lies somewhere in the middle.

    ***

    Lethelin released her last arrow and cursed. Every shot had flown true, and she had an impressive body count, but now her ranged options were done. In front of her the throne sat, glowing and implacable. And beyond that, the knights battled. The sight of their true might both terrified her and made her want to scream with adulation. Their blades sang, their magic coursed through the air, filling the space with the smell of ozone, fire, and ash. And beneath that, the smell of blood was so thick as to nearly choke her. Were it not for the windows that had been blasted out by the concussive shockwave of spells fired all about, the charnel house stench would have made her gag.

    And, despite their unmatched skill in battle, there were simply too many soldiers. If something didn¡¯t change, they would be overrun. The knights and Falen¡ªwho was a blade master in his own right¡ª had blocked the door with the dead, but it couldn¡¯t last. And they had no way of knowing when Mitchell would break free. She would have to go down there and aid in the fight. There was nothing for it.

    ¡°Balls and bloody fucking tai¡ª¡± and she stopped suddenly, her foot hitting the small bottle once more as she had prepared to stand and charge down the dais stairs.

    She picked it up and, not taking the time to second guess the decision, pulled the cork out with her teeth and drank it down in one long pull. It tasted strongly of quinnamon and something else that made her mouth begin to tingle. She held her breath, wondering if she would be dead in moments, her insides melted. She breathed, awaiting her death, but it didn¡¯t come. The tingling sensation in her mouth intensified, then the same feeling spread out from her stomach to all her extremities.

    Her vision changed then. Or, at least that¡¯s how it appeared to her. Whites became pale grays, colors became darker and richer. But, more than that, everyone seemed to slow down. Allora¡¯s lighting fast swings with her enchanted sword were suddenly moving as if through a thick oil. She watched as one of the soldiers cast arcane lighting at Gilriel and the lightning moved through the air at the pace of a slow walk.

    ¡°Sweet fucking sun!¡± Lethelin swore her eyes going wide as a dragon¡¯s. ¡°It¡¯s a haste potion!¡±

    Everyone wasn¡¯t moving slower; she was moving faster! She was moving a lot faster. Lethelin new there wasn¡¯t much time. Grabbing Mira in her off hand and her rapier in the other, she bolted from behind the throne, her now-white cloak billowing behind her and she charged into the melee.

    It was like child¡¯s play as she dove between the attacking soldiers, cutting a throat here, stabbing a kidney there. She took an extra second or two to seek out the handful of casters in the front line, using her witch bane daggers on them. She could have killed them outright, but she knew that the panic that set in when they lost their magic would further confuse the enemy and serve better than just another dead body.

    Lethelin didn¡¯t know how many men and women she¡¯d killed before the potion started to wear off. The pale gray began to shift back into white and the sounds of the battle returned to her ears. The could feel her legs getting heavy and her fingers start to slacken. Haste potions were amazing, but they extracted a heavy toll on the body. She had to get to safety before it wore off completely.

    With a last burst of strength, she ran for the dais and was halfway up when the spell ended and Lethelin felt herself start to lose consciousness.

    ¡°Balls and fucking¡ª¡± but she never finished that sentence.

    Her body collapsed, its forward momentum carrying her over the last few steps where it hit the ground next to the throne and slid into wall behind it. There she lay, unmoving. Keen ears might have detected the softest snore coming from her exhausted form.

    ***

    ¡°Can you feel it, Mitchell? Can you feel the land as I do?¡±

    Mitchell came awake at the sound of Awen¡¯s voice. Or... no. Not awake. He hadn¡¯t been sleeping, but he had been somewhere else. As he thought about the words, he turned his attention inward, but that was the wrong direction. He cast it outward into Awen. And from there, it spread out into... everything.

    Mitchell was the land. He was every living thing, from the single blade of grass growing through the rocks on the eastern shore, to the blackmoor trees in the heart of the Shadow Glen, to the water drake prowling the river in the High Valley. He was everything and everyone.

    ¡°This is how you sense things all the time?¡±

    ¡°If I wish it. Focusing my attention on any one piece for long is difficult for me. But, if you pull your awareness back, you can get a different perspective.¡±

    Awen showed him how to orient his perception so he didn¡¯t see each individual thing, but rather the land as one interconnected whole. He felt how the pressure of the air exerted force against the trees and ground in one area where, in a different part of the land, the air passed more lightly. High and low pressure systems, he realized. He felt the surface water and the underground rivers and aquifers as one whole, flowing back in on itself, the whole system appearing in his mind like swirling lines of fire on his consciousness. He felt the mass of all the people pressing down on the ground, the weight of their buildings like fingers pressing into his skin. Mitchell was aware of all of it as one varied sensation that expressed itself in different ways across his senses.

    ¡°This is how I generally get a sense of the health of the land and our people. If I sense an imbalance, I can divert resources to correct it. With time, you will sense those imbalances, as well. But only when you sit in the chair. I would not be able to share this much information with your fragile human mind without the throne there to act as a buffer. But, suffice it to say, this is how you will fight Milandris and how you will direct the forces to do battle against him. I can show you where he is now.¡±

    Mitchell felt a pressure and then his perception became that of the ground beneath ten thousand feet. The weight of the men and women of Milandris¡¯s expeditionary force pressed into his consciousness and he felt the magic and men tearing up the soil to dig for the onyx geode that they knew to be beneath them. He didn¡¯t see them with his eyes, but he could view them through the senses of all the living things around them. The sights, sounds, and smells of those soldiers and engineers were broken up into a thousand little pieces by the various insects, plants, and animals, that called that area home, and all of it was fed to his mind.

    ¡°This is how I track him and how I listen to his plans. This is how you will track him and his armies when they come to retake the city. And this is how you will direct your soldiers to battle him and drive him out.¡±

    ¡°This is... This is unbelievable.¡±

    ¡°There is more I must show you before I release you from the throne. You must learn to take control of the palace and its defenses. Allora and the others fight bravely, but they are being overrun. Now, watch carefully.¡±

    ***

    The soldiers that were still lined up in the hall were the first to notice the statues. And that was only because they all stepped off of their platforms as one and began to attack the back line. Their stone bodies paying no heed to spell attacks and no concern for sword slashes or axe blows. Their faces were all expressionless except for their eyes, which glowed with a purple fury that knew no mercy.

    Out in the courtyards where more soldiers were forming up, sculptures that looked like ornate sundials began to spin, shredding off the vines that had grown over them in the last two years, and lighting began to arc out with terrible power, exploding men and women on contact. Each bolt landed true and left only a mist of blood and shattered armor. Statues of man and beast alike came to life and began to chase down and slaughter every soldier that had made it inside the gates. They emitted no sound, their carved faces bore no expression, only the fury in their purple eyes spoke of vengeance long delayed.

    The greatest terror awaited those beyond the gates.

    As Mitchell¡¯s expanded consciousness flowed into them, easily dissecting itself to control all 47 guardians, their eyes opened as one and they stepped away from the wall in unison. Mitchell could see through each and every set of eyes at the several thousand soldiers that had remained outside the gates to keep the citizens of city at bay. The ground was littered with the bodies of the dead ¨C soldiers and civilians alike.

    As the guardians stepped from their ancient posts, a silence stretched over the palace grounds. Then a cheer so loud it broke the sky ripped through the air as the people saw their guardians¡ªat long last¡ªcome to their aid. The ground shook with cries of victory.

    Inside his shell of onyx, Mitchell smiled and he felt the smile echoed across all 47 guardians. Then those terrible eyes turned to the soldiers who stared mute in disbelief at the threat they now faced. Before their captains could organize any sort of defense, Mitchell attacked.

    Few soldiers made it out of the city alive.

    ***

    Allora brought her sword down on the head of another soldier, cleaving through the left side of his temple and down into his neck and chest. The man died without uttering a sound and his body collapsed to the floor to join the other dead soldiers. Her mind was empty, her body numb. Only one thought burned through the haze of exhaustion.

    ¡°None shall get past me.¡±

    She swayed but raised a sword as heavy as the world to meet the next attacker only to find there were no more. In front of her was the stained and cracked statue of Verity De Farseer, a captain during the war with Iletish who had died defending the town of Buckkeep near the Southern Road. And behind him stood a dozen other statues, all still, their weapons held at the ready, their purple eyes unblinking. At their feet lay untold scores of dead. The Hall of the Sun was thick with bodies.

    ¡°Is it...¡± Elrin gasped beside Allora. ¡°Is it over?¡±

    The woman¡¯s hair was matted with sweat and blood, she didn¡¯t appear to have the use of her left arm, and one side of her face was a bloody swollen mess. Her words were slurred and tears of pain and maybe relief were dripping out of her other eye.

    ¡°I think so,¡± Allora croaked. She started to turn and look to the throne but her legs gave out and she collapsed. The last thing she thought she saw was the throne receding around a form that sat upon it. As her eyes slid closed, she thought she heard the sound of cheering drifting through the shattered windows.

 Chapter 91

    Allora squinted as light pressed against her eyes. Sleep. She needed more sleep. The bed beneath her was warm, soft and familiar, the fabric of her pillow pleasant and comforting against her skin. Not completely awake in that in-between place where returning to the world of dreams was still possible, she turned on her side, away from the light and adjusted her pillow, looking for the cool spot. There it was. Allora sighed and began to drift back down.

    She inhaled a deep breath, her body sinking further on the exhale, and her nose caught the scent of sun fruit blossoms. Sabenn must have snuck into her room this morning to place fresh ones. Allora would have to thank her. But not now. Now was the time for sleep. No one had come to wake her for her shift, so it must be third sun. Vish bless Sabenn for the sun fruit blossoms though.

    Sabenn died the night of the coup. You came across her body in the halls. Her stomach had been sliced open and she had crumpled against the wall and lay in a puddle of her own blood and entrails.

    The memory crashed into Allora with the force of an avalanche as it all came back to her. She sat up with a scream so sharp her own ears started ringing. She looked around, eyes squinted and saw her surroundings. She was in her room in the palace.

    The battle! The blood and the pain. So much death. None would get past her. What? How?

    ¡°Mitchell!?!¡± Allora screamed, her breath coming in gasps. She was sweating, her chest was getting tight. She flailed around to find her sword but it wasn¡¯t there. So many soldiers! There had been so many!

    ¡°Mitchell!¡± she yelled again, her voice near panic as she tried to get up, but her body was weak. She crumpled to the floor in a heap.

    The door to her outer chambers burst open and Mitchell was there. He was alive! He was tall and strong, his wide shoulders filled the doorway and his blue eyes like the sky found hers.

    In a flash he was on his knees picking her up in his arms.

    ¡°I got you,¡± he said, his voice soothing the terror that threatened to overwhelm her. ¡°It¡¯s okay, I got you.¡±

    He picked her up like a child, cradling her trembling form to his. She clutched at his shirt and buried her face in his neck, breathing him in. Her chest shuddered as her mind struggled to make sense of what she saw.

    ¡°That healer is going to get a talking to,¡± Mitchell muttered. ¡°A little disoriented when she wakes up. We¡¯ll see how disoriented he is with my foot up his ass!¡±

    Mitchell tried to lay her back in the bed but Allora clung to him and wouldn¡¯t let him rise.

    ¡°Okay,¡± he told her. ¡°I¡¯ll stay.¡±

    He got into the bed with her and held her as her breathing slowed. He caressed her hair and whispered to her that it was okay and that she was safe.

    ¡°You are alive,¡± Allora said at last, her voice uncertain.

    ¡°I am.¡±

    ¡°You completed the bond?¡±

    ¡°I did.¡±

    ¡°Then... Is it...?¡± Allora¡¯s voice caught in her throat and she struggled to get the words out. ¡°Is it over?¡±

    Mitchell bent his head to look down into her eyes. She could see pain in them, but also his love for her.

    ¡°For now. We have taken back the city. The soldiers who survived have been captured, though some got away. We did it. You did it, Allora.¡±

    Mitchell leaned down and kissed her head.

    Allora could almost not comprehend what he was hearing.

    Suddenly she laughed and the laughter kept going. As her body shook with it, it began to change, however. All the pain and the heartache; all the misery, the fear, the rage, and the loss. It all came pouring out of her. Everything she had endured, everything she had seen and sacrificed, and everything she had lost since the last time she slept in this bed. It was like a dragon breaking from its prison and it raged through her.

    From somewhere deep within, she felt a black void of madness begin to grow. As the tears ran like the Oryn down her face, as years of anguish that she had kept suppressed broke free from the dark place she¡¯d forced it into, she felt her mind begin to surrender. As her body sobbed until she couldn¡¯t breathe, the madness sought to claim her and she didn¡¯t think she had the will to resist it. So much. It was too much for any one person to bear. Too much. It was crushing her, pulling her down, ripping her apart.

    Then, through that bubbling madness, she heard Mitchell¡¯s deep voice calling to her, telling her everything was okay. Her pain crashed against him and he was the Skybreaker Peaks. The more she cried, the closer he held her. He was the rock she clung to as all that had happened to her, all that she¡¯d done, tried to sweep her away. But Mitchell did not let her go.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got you,¡± he said, again and again. ¡°I¡¯ve got you.¡±

    ¡°Do not let me go!¡± Allora cried, near panicked. She was slipping away. She could feel it. Something was pulling at her, dragging her down to the depths. ¡°Do not let me go, Mitchell! Please do not!¡±

    ¡°Never.¡±

    Allora lost herself for a bit and she remembered little after that. Except for Mitchell¡¯s voice in her ear, whispering that he loved her. Except for his arms holding her tight as her body shook. A different sort of blackness overcame her then, but it was not madness. It was peace.

    The next time Allora woke, it was dark except for Vish¡¯s pale blue radiance through her windows. Beside her, she felt Mitchell, still there and pressed against her. His breathing was deep and even and just the sound of it calmed her. To her surprise, she felt something warm pressed to her back as well. Then she heard the snoring and, despite herself, she smiled. The three of them were together. They had all survived and she was home.

    Allora¡¯s eyes sought the night sky, but she couldn¡¯t see the moon without shifting and she didn¡¯t want to risk waking up her two bedmates.

    ¡°Lady Vish,¡± Allora whispered, so softly that even she could barely hear it, ¡°goddess of my mother¡¯s people, this humble servant thanks you. Thank you for your guidance and thank you for Mitchell.¡± Allora paused and rolled her eyes. ¡°And thank you for Lethelin as well. I know we still have much to do to save your child, but I am grateful for the peace we have now. Please ask Denass to tell my mother and father of our success. And tell them I love them.¡±

    Allora lay awake for a little while longer, listening and watching. She felt for that place inside of her where she had forced all her rage and pain and found it was empty. There was a raw, wounded sensation but it was the feeling of a wound that had begun to heal. She was free of it. The relief was so intense she almost started to cry again. She had made it.

    Allora didn¡¯t know when it happened, but she detected a change in Mitchell¡¯s breathing. As she turned her gaze from the window to his face, he found his eyes open and watching her, the normal sky blue a deep sapphire in the room¡¯s darkness.

    ¡°Haaa yoo,¡± she said softly.

    ¡°Hey, you.¡±

    A warmth spread through her at his words. They were simple, but she understood the weight of them. That angry, raw place inside her didn¡¯t hurt quite as badly as before.

    She brought her hand up and traced it down his jaw line, rough with stubble, and then around his lips, up the ridge of his nose, and through his long, unkempt hair. They lay like that in silence for awhile and slowly, Mitchell¡¯s eyes slid closed and back to sleep. Allora followed soon after.

    ***

    The next few days were a blur for Mitchell and the girls. With the power structure in the city gone, there was a mad dash to restore order. It didn¡¯t help that Allora and the rest of the knights had been exhausted near to the point of death by the time the battle ended and all of them, not just Allora, had been placed into what amounted to a magically-induced coma for them to recover. Mitchell had been working through Cenedra and one of Falen¡¯s lieutenants and some of his people as they were the only ones awake and functional immediately after the battle. They¡¯d put him in touch with what city guard commanders and community organizers they could and slowly, order was restored. He supposed they probably should have had a plan for that, but with everything else going on, it hadn¡¯t come up.

    The knights each had a list of injuries longer than Mitchell¡¯s arm, not the least of which was prolonged mana drain, and¡ªin the case of Khardin, an arm that had been too badly scorched to heal and had needed to be amputated. Apparently healing magic needed something living to regrow and couldn¡¯t work on dead or charred flesh. If anything, the dwarf seemed to like the change.

    ¡°Aye, gives me more character,¡± he had said upon waking and being given the news. ¡°It¡¯ll only add to my legend. Might even earn me a new wife or two. The ladies love a good battle scar, aye.¡±

    Mitchell had laughed and clasped his good shoulder.

    ¡°I am forever in your debt, Commander Khardin,¡± he said somberly.

    ¡°I¡¯m just a sergeant, my lord, aye.¡±

    ¡°No longer. After this fight, I am raising all of you to commanders. You¡¯re just the first I¡¯ve visited today. You answered the call, you saved my life, and you saved Allora¡¯s and Lethelin¡¯s. If there¡¯s ever anything you need, as long as it is within my power to give it, it is yours. I swear it, by Stollar¡¯s holy light.¡±

    ¡°Aye, my lord, I¡­¡±

    The stone-skinned old dwarf actually got a little misty-eyed at the compliment and, instead of speaking any further, nodded and performed the ritual salute with his good arm.

    Mitchell nodded, gripped his shoulder once more, and bid him to take as much rest as he needed.

    And so it had gone, with Mitchell visiting each of the battered knights as they¡¯d woken up. He¡¯d given thanks and the promotion to each one. Gilriel was already a commander, having served on the Council of Eight, and Mitchell told her the job was hers again, if she wanted it. She said she would consider it, but made no promises.

    Mitchell could not believe that everyone was still alive. But as he¡¯d talked with each of them about the fight that he had missed out on, it became clear to whom they credited their success. Each of them named Allora as the force that kept them going when they were well past exhaustion. By rights, they all should have died, but¡ªwhen they had felt like they had no more to give¡ªthey saw her there, fighting beyond all mortal endurance, the found it within themselves to keep going.

    ¡°That woman...¡± Eldrick said and his voice trailed off in the middle of recounting of his recollections of the battle to Mitchell and a scribe that had been brought from somewhere. Suddenly, a look of deep pain spread into his hard features. ¡°My lord, I am a veteran of many battles. I have fought my way across this land since I first earned my sword, going on seventy years now. Even after I stepped down from my duties as a knight, I worked as a ranger with my sister, running patrols into the Shadow Glenn, the Peaks, and out into the islands to the south to hunt pirates. My sister and I even took a commission for two years on a wave dancer ship. But in all those years, I have never seen one fight as she did. Even now, I don¡¯t know how she managed it. And I am deeply ashamed that I ever doubted her. It is a black mark on my soul that I will answer to Denass for when it is time for me to leave this plane. She is truly the Lord Captain.¡±

    ¡°She has been fighting to save Awen for a long time,¡± Mitchell said, somewhat taken aback by the man¡¯s admission. ¡°It is all that has driven her since this began.¡±

    ¡°My lord Mitchell,¡± Eldrick began as a somewhat bemused smile crossed over his face, ¡°she was not fighting for Awen. Not fully, at any rate. She was fighting to protect you.¡±

    Mitchell opened his mouth to reply, but found he didn¡¯t know what to say. He thanked the man and took his leave.

    Of all the knights who had returned, only Hackett was committed to leaving.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got two wives and a husband, two children of my own, plus three more besides, and four grandchildren, with one more on the way, my lord Mitchell. Something I never could have had while I served.¡±

    ¡°I thought knights were free to marry?¡±

    ¡°Oh, they are, that¡¯s not what I mean, my lord. But Bethell, my first wife, would not be able to endure the stress of me being sent off on campaigns. Anell could, I think, they both still have Raffin, but¡­ Well, I liked being there for my children as they grew. I figured that¡¯s all a man can really ask and when the grandchildren came, I considered each one a gift above and beyond what I¡¯d earned. But now that this fight is done, I want to be there for the fourth one, too.¡±

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    Mitchell nodded his understanding.

    ¡°You have served with honor and distinction, and you will leave with the rank of commander, the same as everyone else, and the pension that goes with it. I hope to return Awenor to peace soon enough.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, my lord Mitchell!¡±

    Mitchell shook his hand, despite it being an unfamiliar gesture here, and the halfling warrior adapted readily enough.

    ¡°My lord,¡± Hackett called, as Mitchell was heading for the door, a note of hesitation in his voice. ¡°If it¡¯s alright with my daughter Lynae, if she has a girl, I would like to ask her to name her Allora. And if it¡¯s a boy, Mitchell. Would that be alright?¡±

    Mitchell paused to consider, trying to give the question the proper weight that Hackett seemed to think it deserved.

    ¡°On one condition,¡± Mitchell said, after a somber pause.

    ¡°Speak it, my lord.¡±

    ¡°When this is all over, and if we¡¯ve driven Milandris out and things have settled down, that you bring your whole family to the palace so that we may meet them. Your children and grandchildren deserve to hear the tale of what you did, straight from the horse¡¯s mouth.

    ¡°Of course! It would be our honor, my lord. But¡­ what is a horse?¡±

    ***

    ¡°I¡¯m really not comfortable with all this,¡± Mitchell said as he stared at himself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror.

    ¡°Is something wrong with my work, my lord?¡± Holfo said, looking suddenly in distress. The notion that his work might not be perfectly to his customer¡¯s liking seemed to have that effect on him.

    ¡°No, no,¡± Mitchell told him. ¡°I just don¡¯t normally wear clothes like this. I look like a peaco¡ª¡±

    Mitchell stopped himself. They didn¡¯t have peacocks on this world. At least not that he had heard of. He had to stop mixing in English. What was it Lethelin had said once?

    ¡°I look like a glitter fish¡­ um¡­ swimming about in the water.¡±

    Holfo calmed, then seemed to consider.

    ¡°I suppose we could shorten the cape in the back. Simplify the front waist coat, I think. Remove the false dragon scales. It would be a bit of a bold statement, though, what with you being the monarch.¡±

    ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°It would put the other nobles on edge, I suspect, my lord. Their capes should not be longer than yours, and if you show up with a shorter one, it would make them look like braggarts and that they held their deeds in higher esteem than your own.¡±

    ¡°Would that be bad?¡±

    Mitchell had exactly zero experience in what he had learned over the last few days was called The Veiled Dance; the maneuvering of nobles for better positioning. He knew he was going to have to learn though, and it was not a task he looked forward to.

    Holfo looked pensive and he started chewing on his lower lip. Mitchell had only met him yesterday, but he already recognized that gesture as one he got when he was pondering something difficult.

    ¡°May I speak freely, my lord Mitchell?

    ¡°I would prefer it if you always did that, Holfo. I have little patience for games.¡±

    His deep brown eyes darted around the room as if afraid they would be overheard, but they were alone with Allora off handling duties as the Lord Captain, and Lethelin doing... well, whatever it was she did.

    ¡°The other noble houses were quick to bend the knee to Milandris, and then his governor, Sanit, who, I¡¯m to understand, died in the battle?¡±

    Mitchell nodded.

    ¡°That¡¯s what they tell me. He was in the contingent at the main gates when the guardians were activated.¡±

    ¡°To the void with him,¡± Holfo cursed, then seemed to remember where he was, and bowed. ¡°Apologies, my lord. I did not mean to speak so in your presence.¡±

    Mitchell chuckled.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. You were saying?¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­ um¡­ well, the nobles fell in line rather quickly, and, while I don¡¯t think any of them truly supported Milandris, they also put up no resistance to his rule. They surrendered some of their local forces to fill out his mercenary numbers. Not enough to pose a threat, but more as a show of obedience. I imagine that, what with your ascension to the throne and the retaking of the city that they will be feeling a bit like they¡¯ve placed their head in the dragon¡¯s maw. Will you punish them for siding with Milandris or will you pardon them? Or perhaps inflict some other form of retribution that they have not yet imagined.

    ¡°If I may be so bold as to advise you, my lord...¡±

    Mitchell nodded.

    ¡°You may.¡±

    ¡°Showing up in more simple attire to your own coronation while they will be wearing their finest adornments would be a clever way to indicate that you think their accomplishments paltry and weak. It will make them fear what you will do next. If you, who marched on the city and retook the throne right from under Milandris¡¯s forces in a single afternoon, think so little of your accomplishments as to wear simple dress, what right would they have to dress in so gaudy a fashion?¡±

    Mitchell thought about that and smiled.

    ¡°We have a saying where I¡¯m from, Holfo. Less is more.¡±

    Holfo considered the odd phrase but it was clear he didn¡¯t understand it, so Mitchell took a moment to explain it to him. Once he got it, his eyes lit up and he chuckled.

    ¡°Oh, I like that very much, my lord. Less is more. Indeed!¡±

    ¡°Can you do that?¡±

    ¡°Of course, my lord.¡±

    Mitchell gave him the go ahead, and the halfling set to work plucking things off here, snipping thread there, stripping it down to the bare essentials, but adding very subtle touches back in.

    ¡°Tell me, Holfo. How is it that a tailor knows so much about The Veiled Dance?¡±

    The halfling looked up where he was making some adjustments to the thin black sash that cut smartly across Mitchell¡¯s chest, and he scoffed.

    ¡°I am not just a tailor, my lord Mitchell. I am the tailor. I serve most of the noble houses and several of the powerful merchants in the city. And my apprentices serve more beyond that. You don¡¯t rise to that sort of position without picking up a thing or two.¡±

    The short man grinned and Mitchell matched it with one of his own.

    ¡°And why would you trust me with this sort of information? You just met me yesterday. You don¡¯t know if I will be a good monarch or bad. You don¡¯t really know what kind of man I am. For that matter, how do I know if I can trust you? How do I know you are not loyal to one of the other noble families and are using this as an opportunity to make me look weak at my coronation?¡±

    Mitchell trusted that Allora would not let that happen, but he still thought it a pertinent question to ask the tailor, even if just to see his reaction.

    Holfo stopped smiling then. He stood up and looked thoughtful and then he gave Mitchell a level look.

    ¡°I served King Baylor in his time, and I served Lord Captain Travelor as well. My first wife, Prida, served the Lord Captain¡¯s wife, Allora¡¯s mother, Kahlen. She was a member of the Council of Eight, and a commander as well. My third son apprenticed at Prida¡¯s feet and my daughter Cily, with my second wife Ennen, apprenticed at my feet with Baylor and Lord Captain Travelor, both. We have always served the knights and the throne.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve served with distinction,¡± Mitchell said, ¡°but you didn¡¯t answer the question.¡±

    ¡°I tailored the clothes that Lord Captain Travelor wore to Lord Captain Allora¡¯s induction ceremony when she was seven high suns old. I did so again when they were preparing for her graduation ceremony. I watched the Lord Captain grow, from when she was nothing but a bulge in her mother¡¯s womb as Prida was called in to adjust Lady Kahlen¡¯s clothes while her belly swelled, until that terrible night when Milandris came.

    ¡°Lord Captain Travelor and Commander Kahlen were two of the finest people I have ever known. And I have known many. Some are not worth the scrapings from the bottom of a jivi paddock. But few are the match of Lord Travelor and his wife. And Lord Captain Allora is every bit their daughter. And she loves you. She would die for you. I see it every time she looks at you. That is all I need to know about you, my lord Mitchell. If I knew nothing else, that would be enough.¡±

    Mitchell didn¡¯t quite know what to do with that sort of admission. He felt a knot of emotion form up in his chest and his eyes began to moisten. It was such a powerful declaration that Mitchell found himself momentarily overwhelmed. He took a breath and got ahold of himself. Then he placed a hand on the tailor¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°Thank you, Holfo. That means a lot.¡±

    Holfo nodded and then his professionalism asserted itself once more. Over the next half hour, Holfo made his final adjustments and then scratched several notations in his ledger and began to undress Mitchell with assurances that he would work through the day and into the night to have it completed by the morning.

    As the hafling was packing up to go, Mitchell stopped him.

    ¡°Tell me, Holfo, have you met Lady Lethelin?¡±

    Holfo wobbled his head.

    ¡°Not personally, my lord, but I have seen her a couple of times. Usually with either you or Lady Allora. She is quite striking. Do you wish us to prepare something for her as well? I can assign Cily to make her something. Cily has a flair for the edgier styles and I suspect that would suit Lady Lethelin well.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps, but that¡¯s a problem for later. If I set an appointment for you, would you meet and talk with her?¡±

    ¡°Of course, my lord Mitchell. But, if we are not to discuss fashion, what is it we would talk about?¡±

    Mitchell cocked an eyebrow and gave the tailor a sly grin.

    ¡°Dancing.¡±

    ***

    ¡°Knock, knock,¡± Mitchell said, tapping on the frame of the door lightly as he stepped into Allora¡¯s chambers.

    The sun was setting and the sky beyond Allora¡¯s large windows had an excellent view of the western palace grounds. He could see the effects the newly returned groundskeepers were having on the long neglected gardens, even from the third floor window. Bushes were getting trimmed back, paths cleared away, and there was even a fountain already up and running.

    Through the bedroom door off of the small sitting room, Allora¡¯s voice called out.

    ¡°Dok, dok, not nok, nok,¡± she corrected, but he could hear the smile in her voice.

    ¡°No no,¡± he heard Lethelin say. ¡°Let him. My thumping finger hasn¡¯t had a good work out in a dragon¡¯s age.¡±

    Mitchell smiled, hearing both of them together and stepped in, closing the door behind him. Despite the small size, the room was well appointed. It had one couch along the right wall that could seat three, albeit a little tightly, and two small chairs around a table barely big enough for two plates to sit next to each other. The two windows in this room were tall, almost Mitchell¡¯s full height, and hung with light blue curtains. The walls were an off-white plaster, now cracked in several places, with green wallpaper acting as wainscotting which was peeling in several places since the palace had been abandoned for two years. Such cosmetic repairs were very low on the list of priorities at the moment.

    There was also a mix between a hearth and a Franklin stove that sat against the left wall, and this served as a heat source when it was cold.  Heat stones¡ªsometimes called fire drakes, he¡¯d learned ¨C could be placed inside and they would warm the whole room for hours. He¡¯d used the same sort of magic item on his trip over the mountains. No burning wood or coal. No ash or smoke. It just needed someone with a little magical knowhow

    Once Allora had been feeling better, Mitchell had commented that this seemed like an awfully nice room for an Onyx Knight fresh out of training. He had expected her to have to sleep in the barracks, now in the process of being rebuilt. It had been one of the burned-out buildings on the palace grounds and it had taken some of the worst damage.

    Allora had admitted that this had been her room as a young girl, before her seventh high sun when she had been permitted to join the knights. It was a privilege she¡¯d had since her father was the Lord Commander and her mother a commander and on the Council of Eight. Her family did have land about two days ride to the west near the region called the High Valley, but because of their duties to the monarch and the Knights, they lived at the palace most of the year. When Allora had joined up, she had been expected to stay in the barracks with the rest of the trainees and was only allowed to sleep in her own quarters on holidays if she¡¯d been given leave.

    Mitchell stepped into the bedroom and saw Allora sitting up on her bed with Lethelin sitting cross-legged in front of her, and Allora was brushing her hair. He then did a double-take and saw it was a much bigger bed than the one they¡¯d woken up in that morning.

    ¡°I see we got our new furnishings,¡± Mitchell said, smiling.

    Given that the room was Allora¡¯s when she was a child, the original bed had not been that large, nor had it smelled all that fresh when they¡¯d first reclaimed the space. Someone had brought in a newer one as quickly as they could, but it had been the same size as the original that had been thrown out because it matched the frame. All of them trying to squeeze into it had been less than ideal. However, the notion of sleeping apart from the two women felt wrong to Mitchell, and he had been surprised that they had felt the same.

    So, they¡¯d suffered through the tight space the last two days. Until the royal quarters could be remodeled, this is where they had opted to stay. Mitchell hadn¡¯t even suggested that Allora take her parents¡¯ old room.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Allora said, looking up and smiling. ¡°It is much better.¡±

    A look of consternation then passed over her features and she looked back at Lethelin¡¯s head.

    ¡°Wait, was that 141 or 151? I lost count.¡±

    ¡°Not even close. That was only 121.¡±

    Allora reached up a long finger and plucked a single strand of red-orange hair from Lethelin¡¯s head.

    ¡°Ouch!¡± the thief yelped. ¡°Balls, woman, alright! 151!¡±

    ¡°That is what I thought,¡± Allora said primly, then gave Mitchell a grin from behind her head.

    Lethelin rubbed vigorously at the spot on her head where the hair had been yanked out, but wisely chose not to comment further.

    ¡°What¡¯s this all about?¡± Mitchell asked the pair as he had to nearly bite his tongue to stop from laughing.

    ¡°She lost a bet. And not very graciously, I might add!¡±

    ¡°Do you want to lose more hair? Because that is how you lose more hair. And I would not have lost if you had not cheated.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t cheat!¡±

    ¡°160!¡± Allora stated with emphasis.

    ¡°What was the game?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s called The Sea Fairies. Three cards, shuffled around, and you have to pick the winner. She lost so she has to brush my hair 200 times.¡±

    Mitchell chuckled openly then.

    ¡°You know, my father told me something once. He said ¡°Never play poker with a man named Doc¡±.

    ¡°What is poker?¡± Allora asked, pausing her strokes.

    ¡°A card game.¡±

    ¡°Why do you not play with a man named Doc?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a way of saying don¡¯t play a card game with him because he is likely a much better player than you. Lethelin is a member of the thieves guild, honey. Those games are used to trick people out of their money. She¡¯s probably been playing them almost as long as you¡¯ve been using a sword.¡±

    Allora narrowed her eyes and glared at the back of Lethelin¡¯s head.

    ¡°So you did cheat!¡±

    ¡°No, I didn¡¯t cheat! I didn¡¯t need to,¡± Lethelin protested. ¡°I know how to move the cards so that the one you think is your card isn¡¯t. I can even make you pick the one I want.¡±

    Allora looked at Mitchell to confirm her words and he nodded.

    ¡°We have a similar game on Earth. That¡¯s how they do it.¡±

    Allora finished her last ten strokes in silence before placing the brush down.

    Lethelin ran her fingers through her long red hair and smiled appreciatively before scooting around and giving Allora a quick peck on the lips.

    ¡°Want me to brush yours next?¡±

    ¡°That would be nice. And I want you to show me how to play this card game later, when we have time. I want to learn more about this world. I fear it is an area of my education that is lacking.¡±

    They readjusted on the bed and Lethelin began to pull the brush through Allora¡¯s raven locks. Mitchell watched as the knight¡¯s eyes rolled back in near ecstasy at those first few thick sweeps of the brush and she could not contain the groan as the tension was eased from her scalp. Mitchell took the opportunity to crawl up onto the bed with them and he placed his head in Allora¡¯s lap. She began to idly run her fingers through his hair and scratched his head which caused Mitchell to break out in goose bumps, or as they were called here, fairy tracks.

    All was silent for a time. Just the steady rhythm of the brush strokes and the soft sounds of Allora¡¯s breathing. There were things to talk about, plans to make, people to meet, and there were still the battalions of troops stationed all through the country with which they had to deal. Taking back the city did not win them the war. Mitchell reminded himself that while he could see those enemy soldiers now when he was upon the throne, he had no army to send after them. City guardsmen did not a military force make. They were not out of the woods yet. But for now, that didn¡¯t matter. For now, it was enough just to be with the two women he loved with no one pestering them, no reports to read, no strategies to plan. He¡¯d left strict instructions not to bother him unless a dragon attacked the city or Milandris showed up to surrender and offer his head.

    Mitchell allowed himself to doze as Allora¡¯s hands massaged his scalp and he was feeling very relaxed when he heard an unmistakable sound. It was the sound of lips on skin. It was then that he noticed that Allora¡¯s hands had stopped their gentle caresses. He opened his eyes and looked up to see that Allora had her head off to one side and Lethelin was leaning over her shoulder and kissing her neck. As he watched, Lethelin¡¯s eyes found his and gave him a wink.

    ¡°Mitchell, love?¡± Allora said, a touch breathlessly.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Did you leave orders for us not to be disturbed tonight?¡±

    ¡°I did.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡±

    Allora turned then, and grabbed a handful of Lethelin¡¯s long red hair, and kissed her full on the mouth.

 Epilogue

    Mitchell stood on the second-floor balcony overlooking the assembled masses in The Hall of the Sun. His coronation had gone off without a hitch. Truth be told, Mitchell found it rather anti-climactic. A stuffy official from Stollar¡¯s temple in the city had placed a heavy onyx crown on his head that had magically sized itself to fit comfortably followed by a proclamation of him as the true monarch. He went on to say that Mitchell was chosen by Awen and blessed by Stollar, and blah blah blah. Mitchell had immediately disliked the man in his pompous golden robes and giant sun medallion. It seemed that clergy were the same here as on Earth ¨C stuffed shirts puffed up with far too much ornamentation and not enough humility, as far as he was concerned.

    The man had droned on for what seemed like hours, but what was in reality probably only a few minutes. And, it was possible that Mitchell was just being cranky and taking it out on the high priest or whatever he was. Allora had told him but he¡¯d forgotten the man¡¯s actual title already. It had been an extremely stressful day leading up to the actual ceremony and, by the time it started, he already wanted it to be over. Allora had said he was actually a dedicated servant of the people, despite his somewhat self-important attitude, and Mitchell tried to take her word for it, but long experience on Earth had given him a healthy distrust of religious officials of any sort. Lethelin agreed with him, at least, and said she could arrange for him to have a little accident if he wanted, which made him laugh. But then, the more he thought about it, he wasn¡¯t sure if she was kidding or not. Best not to find out.

    Once the ceremony had completed, the Onyx Throne began to glow, and Awen¡¯s voice resounded through the circular chamber, soft and sonorous, and everyone seemed to stand a little taller as the elemental¡¯s words reverberated off the walls.

    ¡°Thus begins the reign of Mitchell Theodore De Allen, monarch and ruler of all those who reside in my domain. He is bound to me by magic and bound to the people by love, duty, and honor. Long may he serve our people with wisdom, strength, and compassion.¡±

    The assembled nobles and who¡¯s who of Lorivin had begun to celebrate in earnest, then. Mitchell greeted more people than he could remember and had been suddenly glad they didn¡¯t shake hands here. He wasn¡¯t a germaphobe but the idea of glad-handing over a hundred people suddenly made his palms start to sweat.

    Hackett had agreed to stay until after the coronation, so all of the surviving Onyx Knights were in attendance, lending somewhat of an ominous air to the proceedings. Falen, in another surprise, had also lent some of his people as additional security. The man was proving to be a valuable asset. So much so that Mitchell found he didn¡¯t even mind that the deal he¡¯d made was with, in essence, a mafia crime boss. Lethelin was still keeping a close eye on him, and had informed Mitchell that she¡¯d sent a message to some contacts in Varset, requesting a few trusted friends to join her in the capital, but they were still weeks out.

    After nearly an hour of mingling he¡¯d finally managed to escape up to the second level for a breather. The late afternoon sun was still coming through the large dome at the top which, much to Mitchell¡¯s surprise, had not been damaged with all the magic and explosions that had been thrown around. He¡¯d later learned that it was enchanted, which shouldn¡¯t have surprised him. Additionally, all the statues were back on their pedestals, standing silent guard over the festivities.

    ¡°If we don¡¯t get out of here soon, I really might start killing people!¡± Lethelin hissed as she stepped up silently beside him.

    Mitchell chuckled.

    ¡°I see what you mean about glitter fish,¡± he told her as they watched the throngs of people eating and drinking in the grand hall below. On either side of him, back about a dozen yards stood Eldrick and Elrin, resplendent in their ceremonial armor, each back to full health. They stopped anyone attempting to come up the stairs and talk to Mitchell further, knowing he wanted some quiet time. Lethelin was the obvious exception.

    ¡°I told you,¡± she said, her fingers finding his and squeezing. ¡°I don¡¯t know how Lora can stand it. Just ten minutes down there and I started to get stabby. They are such an insufferable lot. So obsequious and cloying, always asking for information without trying to look like they¡¯re asking. Pretending to be interested in me when really they wanted to know more about you. Thinking I couldn¡¯t tell how they looked down their noses at me when they heard my accent.¡±

    ¡°On that, we can agree,¡± Mitchell said, and kissed the top of her head. ¡°And don¡¯t worry about your accent. Now that I can actually tell the difference between the way you and Allora speak, I love yours. It kind of reminds me of how people from a land on Earth called New Zealand speak. But Allora grew up with these people. She¡ª¡±

    Mitchell¡¯s voice cut off as a sudden disturbance broke out among the gathered nobles and dignitaries who had been in Lorivin when they¡¯d taken back the city. Had these been normal times, there would have been even more as the various kingdoms would have had time to prepare and send their envoys across the continent to properly welcome a new monarch in one of the most powerful kingdoms. But as they were only holding a city in an occupied country, they had made due with who was available.

    At the feet of the large statue of Stollar, which was carved from what Mitchell now knew to be a special material they called sun stone, a ring had formed and rapidly expanded as people began backing up so fast that several tripped and crashed to the floor. There were a handful of screams, from both men and women as they cleared away from the figure that had suddenly appeared.

    When Mitchell saw who it was that was inspiring so much terror from the guests, he went cold. Beside him, Lethelin gasped and took a step back.

    ¡°Oh balls!¡± she swore under her breath. ¡°Oh, balls and bloody fucking taint!¡±

    Almost as if she had heard the curse, Luvari¡¯s snow-white eyes turned and looked right at Mitchell. She stood in the widening circle at the base of the statue and she was pristine in her pale beauty. She was wearing a flowing white gown made of what looked like actual snow. It swirled up and around her pale skin like a shaken snow globe, always giving you hints of the luscious cold skin beneath, but never revealing more.

    ¡°At least she doesn¡¯t have to worry about any buttons ripping off her corset this time,¡± Mitchell thought to himself wryly and tried to tell himself that he wasn¡¯t instantly overcome with a desire to ravage the ice princess.

    Before Mitchell could say anything, several guards rushed towards the statue, weapons drawn. Vanthalla was among them, her swords already out. They were calling for people to get out of the way and then, they weren¡¯t. They were just gone; vanished so fast that people that they had been in the process of shoving aside were still in motion before they recognized that the force pushing them was gone.

    Mitchell sighed.

    ¡°Hello, Lady Luvari,¡± Mitchell called out from the balcony, greeting his sudden guest with a smile that was only a little forced. While he did enjoy the shock she was giving the nobles and the wealthy of the city, he knew he needed these people. Turning his attention to the crowd at large, he called out, ¡°Everyone, please be calm. Lady Luvari of the Winter Court of the Fey Realm is a...¡± he paused, wondering if friend was the right word, but decided to be a little more diplomatic. ¡°A guest.¡±

    ¡°So wonderful to see you again, my lovely Mitchell,¡± Luvari¡¯s voice echoed through the hall. ¡°I just had to come and congratulate you on your victory! And I do love a party!¡±

    When she said his name, something inside him answered. Mitchell had never felt anything like it in his life. Part of him wanted to go to her. Wanted to be close to her. Something deep in his mind whispered that he belonged with the arch fey.

    The hall had gone deathly still. With her long ears, her alien face, and bone-white skin and hair, she stood in stark contrast to every other mortal race. Several people actually fainted as the realization hit them. They were in the presence of what many understood to be a demigod. They were immortal beings of legend, the source of both magnificent fairy tales and horrible nightmares.

    ¡°It is, and you look as lovely as ever,¡± Mitchell said into the quiet, his voice cautious. ¡°Thank you so much for attending. I would have sent you a personal invitation but I had no way to contact you.¡±

    Luvari visibly preened at the praise and twirled around in her dress made of winter. She pulled her hands through the swirling ice crystals and they came away at her touch, dancing around her fingers, and then fluttered back down to conceal her incredible figure once more.

    ¡°Oh, this old thing? Why, I only wear it when I don¡¯t care how I look!¡±

    Mitchell knew that line. He racked his brain for a moment and then it came to him. She was quoting It¡¯s a Wonderful Life! Mitchell¡¯s parents had watched it every Christmas when he was growing up. Then she did something even more shocking.

    Luvari leaned forward and pressed the front of her blizzard dress down and, from nowhere, a wind blew up the back of the frock in a near-perfect recreation of the infamous Marilyn Monroe scene from The Seven-Year Itch.

    The fey giggled as she watched the shocked faces of her audience and then gave a little curtsy after the dress settled down.

    Looking back up at Mitchell, Luvari said, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I took no offense, I have kept an eye on you,¡± and she winked.

    A figure had begun to move toward Luvari, and Mitchell saw it was Allora, with Gilriel close behind. Thankfully, her weapon was not drawn. She moved with what Mitchell would call a stately urgency. People moved from her path and in a moment, she was before their powerful visitor. Rather than speak, Allora bowed low, almost touching her head to the floor.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Lady Luvari, it is a pleasure to welcome you to The Onyx Palace. As Lord Captain and as one given the authority to speak on behalf of Lord Mitchell in matters of state and diplomacy, I extend to you the protection of the law of hospitality and name you honored guest within these walls or any that I call home, now or in the future.¡±

    Her speech finished, Allora rose and met Luvari¡¯s pale gaze.

    ¡°Well met, Lady Allora,¡± Luvari said, her voice as warm as her dress was cold. ¡°You are looking much better than the last time I saw you. I am pleased to see you so. Our Mitchell has taken good care of you, it seems.¡±

    That feeling tugged at Mitchell again. It was really starting to freak him out. And the inclusion of the possessive when referring to him was also troubling.

    ¡°He has, my lady,¡± Allora answered. ¡°Thanks in no small part to your timely aid. Please, what service may I render to you? It would be my honor to see to your comfort.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve come to see young Miss Lethelin. She has a debt that is due.¡±

    ¡°As you wish, my lady,¡± Allora said with no hesitation. She of all people would know the intractability of a deal with a creature of fairy.

    ¡°Oh balls!¡± Lethelin groaned.

    Allora¡¯s eyes found Mitchell¡¯s and he nodded, knowing the question in her eyes without her having to speak it.

    ¡°Please, follow me,¡± Allora requested.

    Luvari nodded and Allora made her way to the nearest stairwell with Luvari a few steps behind. A chill seemed to sweep over everyone she walked near and people jumped back as if they¡¯d been shocked. As Lethelin got to the bottom of the stairwell, Luvari suddenly stopped and looked at the man who was standing there. It was Falen, Mitchell saw. He was dressed in his best court finery, the people here having no idea that he was also one of the feared edrokii. His actions in the battle had made him somewhat of a celebrity and he had been enjoying himself immensely so far.

    Luvari studied him for a long moment and the swirling snow that made up her dress appeared to blow a bit more violently as she appraised him.

    ¡°Interesting,¡± she said after a pregnant pause.

    ¡°Pardon me, my lady?¡± Falen said, shocked at the sudden attention.

    Mitchell could tell that he was trying to decide if he should run or not. Falen was no coward, but this was a lady of fairy who was giving him a once over. As Mitchell understood these things, that would turn even the bravest man¡¯s bones to water.

    Luvari took a step closer to him and looked him up and down. Several people gasped and stepped away, but to his credit, Falen held his ground.

    ¡°Lady Luvari, is something wrong?¡± Allora asked, a subtle note of panic in her voice that Mitchell could tell she was trying to mask.

    ¡°Hmm?¡± She said distractedly, not taking her eyes away from the crime lord. ¡°Oh, no. Nothing is wrong. But you and Mitchell certainly keep interesting company.¡±

    Luvari reached up and patted Falen on the cheek.

    ¡°But you and I should talk one day, I think.¡±

    ¡°I... uh... I...¡±

    But before Falen could formulate a proper response, she turned back to Allora and bid her continue up the steps. The guests watched in mute fascination, still none daring to speak. Few barely had the courage to move at all, lest something inadvertently draw the arch fey¡¯s attention to themselves.

    With a nod, Eldrick stood aside, and the two women walked at a stately pace towards where Mitchell and Lethelin awaited. Lethelin had moved behind Mitchell, as if hiding behind his bigger frame would somehow save her from the deal that they had struck to save Allora¡¯s life.

    Mitchell felt the weight of every pair of eyes as they watched their new monarch speak with an arch fey. The stories of this would only add to his legend and he didn¡¯t want to think of the wild tales that would come up from it.

    As they came to a stop, Allora spoke first.

    ¡°My lord Mitchell, I present Lady Luvari, arch fey of the Winter Court of the Fey Realm.¡±

    Her voice was crisp, sharp, and formal. Her face was flat and, to an outsider, perhaps, inscrutable. But Mitchell had learned to read her over these many months and he could see the barely contained panic behind her eyes.

    Luvari tipped her head.

    ¡°Welcome,¡± he said.

    ¡°I am well pleased with the hospitality of your court,¡± Luvari said. ¡°It speaks well of you.¡±

    Her eyes shifted past Mitchell to where Lethelin stood peaking from behind his shoulder. ¡°And greetings to you as well, Miss Lethelin. Are you ready to go?¡±

    ¡°Ah, if I may, Lady Luvari...¡± Mitchell began.

    ¡°Hmm?¡±

    ¡°The guards? Are they... Are they alright?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes, of course!¡± the arch fey woman said, waving his concern away. "They¡¯re sleeping, don¡¯t worry. I sent them home. I didn¡¯t want to risk a misunderstanding and cause anyone to get hurt.¡±

    Mitchell released a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d been holding and nodded.

    ¡°Thank you for your consideration.¡±

    ¡°Come, my dear. I¡¯ve waited quite long enough,¡± Luvari said to Lethelin, holding out her hand and indicating that Lethelin should take it.

    Mitchell knew there was nothing he could do and this moment was always coming. Lethelin did, too but he supposed that she had been trying to ignore it.

    The terrified thief slowly stepped from behind Mitchell and was looking at the offered hand like it was a viper about to strike.

    ¡°It¡¯s only two weeks,¡± Mitchell reminded her. ¡°It will be over before you know it.¡±

    Lethelin gave a hesitant nod but still didn¡¯t look away from the pale white hand hovering in the air.

    ¡°You owe me,¡± she suddenly growled, her eyes glancing at Allora. ¡°So, so much!¡±

    Slowly, Lethelin placed her hand in Luvari¡¯s and a shudder went through her.

    Luvari looked to Mitchell then.

    ¡°Two weeks, to the second, as agreed,¡± she said, then turned to go.

    ¡°Uh, Lady Luvari, if I may?¡± Mitchell suddenly interjected.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°How did you know about It¡¯s a Wonderful Life and Marilyn Monroe?¡±

    She gave him a knowing smile.

    ¡°Amazon Prime.¡±

    She reached into the swirling snow and pulled something small and orange from within and tossed it to him. Mitchell reached to catch it and when he looked back, she and Lethelin were gone. There were only a few snowflakes swirling where she had stood. They quickly fell to the carpeted floor and melted.

    Mitchell then looked at what she had tossed to him and barked a laugh.

    It was an individually-wrapped Reese¡¯s Peanut Butter Cup.

    ***

    Milandris stared out at the dig site and tried to control his rage. It was all coming apart. Two years he had been searching. Nearly a decade in the planning before that. How? How had that woman evaded him for so long? How could one woman and, from the reports he¡¯d received, a man from the human home world, have done all this? And where had those knights come from!? If he could just find the gods¡¯ damned geode, none of this would matter!

    The dig site was a bit of organized chaos. Men and machines labored to move tons of earth as they pushed deeper into the ground. And in all likelihood they were wasting their time. Milandris had poured over the surviving records of the previous hunts for the elementals in preparation for his move on Awenor and none of them had ever mentioned anything like this. The first false geode had been bad enough, but the second? Then, a third! Awen had done this, he was sure of it.

    As he¡¯d pondered the successive failures over the last year, he knew she must have anticipated this centuries back. There was no way she could have done this since he¡¯d taken over the kingdom. He could find her eventually, but this should have been done much sooner. And now, with the loss of the capital he would have to divert resources to either reclaiming it or isolating it. A siege of the city would be long and costly but with a monarch once again on the throne, short of a successful assassination attempt, he didn¡¯t see how else he could take the palace again.

    ¡°Balls and bloody fucking taint,¡± he swore. How had she done it!?

    ¡°You have losssst the sssssity, Milandrissss,¡± a rasping voice suddenly spoke up behind him. ¡°Your failuresssss mount in frequensssssy.¡±

    A cold fear spread in from his gut at the sound of that creature¡¯s voice. They knew. Of course, they knew.

    He turned and faced the cowled figure behind him. The tilsin¡¯s coppery scales glittered inside the hood. Her face, not as reptilian as the lower casts in their society, was almost elf-like, if you could get past the serpentine features. The elongated eyes, the vertical slits, the lack of an actual nose, and a mouth that always looked too big for the head. There was a sort of cruel and deadly beauty to those of the royal caste, but one would be mistaken to think it anything more than a mask. Tilsins had no concept of pity or mercy or of aesthetic beauty. As far as Milandris was concerned, their entire race was an abomination. Still, he had needed their gold to finance his plan.

    ¡°It is a setback,¡± Milandris replied. ¡°He has the city, but he has no army, no generals, and my forces still control the countryside. If he steps beyond the city we will have him. Already my secondary forces are moving to encircle the city and cut off trade.¡±

    ¡°We feel asssss if your leadersssship has been lacking. You promissssed us the geode sssstoness within the firsssst year of your asssault. It hasss now been two. We grow tired of delaysssss.¡±

    ¡°Your costs have been covered,¡± Milandris snapped. ¡°The coin from the taxes is ample to the task.¡±

    ¡°The coin issssss insssidental, Milandrissss,¡± the tilsin woman hissed. ¡°We dessssire the stonesss from the elemental. That issss why you are here. Not for taxssssss revenue.¡±

    ¡°You know why we haven¡¯t found her yet. No one anticipated false geodes. You will just have to wait a little longer.¡±

    The creature studied Milandris for a long moment, her flat, emotionless eyes probing.

    ¡°We feel it issss time we took a more active role in thissss endeavor.¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Milandris yelled. ¡°That was not our deal. I run the campaign, you provide the funding to hire the mercenaries. You get your stones when we harvest the geode. That was it.¡±

    ¡°It hassss already begun,¡± she said, as if he hadn¡¯t spoken at all.

    Milandris stared at the alien creature, shocked at the ease with which she went back on their arrangement.

    ¡°What did you do?¡±

    Beneath the cowl, that too-wide smile revealed a row of needle-sharp teeth. Milandris did his best to suppress a shudder of revulsion.

    ***

    ¡°Allora!¡± a voice sounded through the room, breaking through Mitchell¡¯s slumber. Beside him Allora groaned as well. More pounding exploded from the door.

    ¡°Balls and taint woman, wake up!¡±

    Mitchell cracked an eye open. What time was it?

    ¡°Sounds like Gilriel,¡± Mitchell grumbled. ¡°I guess we should answer it.¡±

    Beside him, Allora pushed herself up, her bare skin glowing softly in Vish¡¯s pale blue glow. Mitchell did the same, both of them reaching for their robes. He moved to wake Lethelin as well, then remembered she was still gone. It had been nearly a week and he felt her absence every day. Allora had been in a bit of a funk as well, which surprised him. He knew that her feelings about Lethelin were complicated but it made his heart glad that she seemed to miss the thief nearly as much as he did.

    The pounding came again, sounding hard enough to break the door down.

    ¡°Lord Captain or not, if you don¡¯t open this door, I¡¯m going to tan your hide!¡± Gilriel yelled from the hall.

    Together, both of them still exhausted from the previous day¡¯s training and meetings, they trudged to the door and Mitchell deactivated the wards that kept it sealed.

    Allora reached forward and yanked it open.

    ¡°What?!?¡± the lord captain snapped. ¡°Are we under attack?¡±

    Gilriel¡¯s hand was raised in preparation for another round of pounding and the door had opened up so quickly that the older knight took an involuntary step back before remembering herself. Her eyes looked just as sleepy and her hair had the look of someone who¡¯d just woken up as well. Beside her was a harried looking young man in a city watchman¡¯s uniform. His eyes were wide and terrified as he stared at the monarch and the lord captain in their bedclothes. He was carrying a stack of papers.

    Gilriel brought her hand down and took a deep breath.

    ¡°Allora. It¡¯s your mother. I think she is alive.¡±

    ~The end of Book One~