《Emberstone》


 The Art Of Misdirection

    ¡°Remember,¡± Grevail said, ¡°if it goes wrong we¡¯ll meet at Maedra¡¯s.¡± Ahead, a smattering of townspeople skittered up and down a cobblestone street in Merchant Row. The chilly spring morning kept many Eudans inside, at least those who didn¡¯t have to be out. He shivered and pulled his patched cloak tighter.


    ¡°I heard you the first time,¡± Tessyn grumbled with a toss of her dirty-blond hair. ¡°Othon won¡¯t cause us trouble.¡± A confident smirk graced her elegant face, yet it faded as she scanned the street, as if a watchman already lay in wait for them.


    ¡°He won¡¯t, but the watch might.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯s worth it,¡± Raela said, voice tight with concern.


    Grevail twisted to look at her. ¡°No?¡±


    Raela quickened her steps to match his pace¡ªworn leather boots clicking on the cobbles. Her emerald eyes, paralleled by thick red hair, were serious when they met his. ¡°No. I¡¯ve heard stories about what he sells. Cheap things¡­impostors. Omene the butcher said he bought his wife a ring from Othon¡­and it broke in half just a few days after she put it on!¡±


    Adellus, at Raela¡¯s shoulder, winked at Grevail over her head. ¡°Knowing her, she probably broke it slapping her poor man over the head.¡± He snickered, but it devolved into a cough when Raela arched an eyebrow at him. Tossing curly brown hair from his face, he shrugged and continued. ¡°Othon has to have something worth a few ess, like those opals we heard about. That was on too many lips for it all to be rumor. How else could he keep a stand on Merchant Row? The watch will come around if too many people are making complaints.¡±


    Raela rolled her eyes as if he should know better. ¡°The watch don¡¯t care about that. He¡¯s fooling people, Dell.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve made our decision,¡± Grevail reminded them. ¡°We¡¯ll see if this is worth it soon enough.¡± Rumor in Lowtown was that Othon had somehow come across a chest full of opal jewelry. Though that type of thing wasn¡¯t their usual fare, they voted to give it a try with only Raela dissenting, as she sometimes did.


    Grevail turned at an intersection and his friends turned with him. The streets of Merchant Row were always busier than other parts of town, even on a cold morning like today. People hurried along, breath misting from wool cowls and an item tucked under an arm that they¡¯d purchased from the many shops. A merchant swaggering toward them with a burlap sack slung over one shoulder sneered at the merit in Grevail¡¯s ear and tightened his grip on the bag.


    Grevail dug the wool hat out of his trouser pocket and slipped it on to hide the low-grade, thumb-sized green opal in the top of his ear. Everyone in town knew an opal in the ear meant you were from Lowtown, and anyone from Lowtown was likely to cause trouble.


    ¡°You should grow your hair out,¡± Raela said, lips quirking in a wry smile. She hooked her hair with a finger to reveal her own merit. A thin oval of purple opal set inside a metal ring and placed just below the helix of the earlobe. ¡°I think you¡¯d look nice. You have such great hair. Imagine yourself with long, curly black locks!¡±


    Grevail shook his head, but couldn¡¯t help grinning in return. ¡°Too much to manage for me. Anyway, I think that is why you never listen to what I say. You can¡¯t hear me with all that hair clogging your ears¡­can¡¯t hear the watch sneaking up behind you either.¡±


    Adellus guffawed. ¡°The watch makes enough noise to be heard on even the roughest nights at Maedra¡¯s. That¡¯s where I¡¯m headed when we get this over with.¡±


    ¡°It would last a lot longer if you didn¡¯t,¡± Tessyn said with a roll of her eyes.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get in position.¡± Grevail reached a hand inside his coat to be sure his knife was ready. It was always a last resort, only to be used when the first resort¡ªhis legs, couldn¡¯t do the job.


    ¡°Mirian,¡± Adellus said, offering Raela his arm.


    Raela scoffed, but took it. ¡°Diphian, my love,¡± she cooed.


    ¡°A little bit more time,¡± Grevail said. ¡°Wait for the street to warm up and fill out, we¡¯ll need all the cover we can get. On Raela¡¯s mark, Tessyn.¡±


    Tessyn flipped up the hood of her cloak and ducked toward the mouth of a nearby alley. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me. I¡¯ll be there.¡±


    Grevail slowed to distance himself from Dell and Raela. Locked arm in arm, the pair wove through the sparse crowd on the morning street until the mark came into view.


    Othon stood exactly where Grevail last saw him when he scouted the area. The table the man had been setting up at the time sat near an alley that ran between a dye a shop and a cobbler. Around Othon¡¯s stand, other vendors lined the street too, selling all manner of things.


    Othon called out to a passerby every few moments in an attempt to catch their attention. He ran a hand over his dark hair, then swiveled to analyze another potential customer. The mustache over his lips twitched just before he bellowed an advertisement. ¡°Miss! Have a look! I have everything! From inexpensive to exotic!¡± The woman did not so much as glance his way, but undeterred, Othon hounded her with more offers she ultimately ignored.


    Grevail made his way to a barrel against the wall of a butcher shop, just up the street from the mark. He sat, trying to make himself appear inconspicuous. On Othon¡¯s left was a potter stall, occupied by a thin youth more interested in the apple he was gnawing on than in attracting anyone to his wares. Hawkers had an annoying tendency to keep an eye out for each other, and the potter might intervene, but Grevail would see to that. He got comfortable as he could and waited.


    A short time later, he still sat on the barrel, while Othon¡¯s continued attempts to lure prey resulted in little. He studied the items on the hawker¡¯s table and pulled the knit wool hat over his ears. More townspeople filled the street now, not as much as he would like, but it would have to do. The smell of food wafted to him from the inn up the street and his stomach rumbled in response. He scanned the crowd. Where is she?


    As if his thoughts had summoned her, Raela appeared in the throng. She wore a slim gray dress and a brown shawl draped across her shoulders, a combination that paired well with the other young ladies on Merchant Row. She was nothing more than an innocent woman out for morning shopping. Raela twirled a strand of the fiery red hair falling over her ears and down to her shoulders on a finger. She paused to peruse a baker¡¯s stall laden with pastries, then, continued toward Othon.


    ¡°Young lady!¡± Othon shouted when she wandered by, eyeing his stand. ¡°Young lady please take a look! You are already so beautiful, but imagine yourself with this on your arm!¡± Othon thrust an ornate silver bracelet toward her. ¡°I have a special price, just for you,¡± he said with a wink.


    Raela, ever the actress, stopped and feigned embarrassment before stepping over to him. Grevail¡¯s lips curled in a smile at her back. She always wanted the acting roles in their plans, to be a character like in the books she read. As long as she didn¡¯t have to hurt anyone, she would say.


    Othon proffered the bracelet, running her over with dark, predatory eyes. ¡°Please miss, try it on! I can tell already¡­it suits you.¡± He watched Raela take the bracelet and slip it on her wrist, rubbing his mustache in a poor attempt to hide a wolfish grin. ¡°See! A noble beauty if I ever saw one! With that bracelet, even Amphid himself would stop to ask your name.¡±


    Grevail grimaced. The man was laying it on thick, though that was the way of those on Merchant¡¯s row. The sound of boisterous hawker¡¯s calls were always in the air here, as natural an ambiance as crickets in the marsh. Raela said something with a shake of her head and Othon¡¯s eyes widened. She shoved the bracelet back into his hand and returned to browsing the inventory while he watched her every move like a hawk.


    Raela pointed and Othon picked up something too small for Grevail to see. The man motioned for her hand and wiggled what must be a ring onto it¡ªall while keeping a wary eye on her.


    ¡°There you are!¡± Adellus¡¯ shout broke over the street. He barreled through the crowd, pushing several people out of his way and stopped beside Raela. ¡°Do you think you¡¯d get away with this!¡± he growled, grabbing her by the wrist.


    Those passing in the street stopped to stare. A fighting couple usually did the trick¡ªGrevail couldn¡¯t ever remember it not. Othon¡¯s jaw fell from his bushy mustache in confusion.


    Raela leveled a glare at Adellus. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you are talking about! I said we needed time apart and I meant it!¡±


    ¡°You know what I mean, Mirian! You¡¯ve been seeing him again, haven¡¯t you! How else could you afford this? Did he take from daddy¡¯s coffers to buy his little lover a ring?¡± Adellus spat.


    Raela¡¯s lips parted and her green eyes sparkled with fury. ¡°How dare you! Maybe I should be seeing him!¡± She hitched her dress with a free hand, as if about to deliver a kick. ¡°At least he can afford it!¡±


    A collective gasp emanated from the crowd.


    Raela struggled to liberate her arm while Adellus shouted at her to stop.


    Othon¡¯s eyes were fixated on the ring, still on Raela¡¯s finger. He reached toward it before shrinking away at a wordless shout from Adellus, who still wrestled with Raela. ¡°Sir, please don¡¯t manhandle the lady,¡± Othon suggested.


    ¡°I¡¯m her husband!¡± Adellus exclaimed and Othon ducked back as if a punch had been thrown at him. With an exasperated groan, Adellus turned to Raela and put a finger under her nose. ¡°You are coming home with me right now!¡± He grabbed her arm and marched into the growing crowd, pulling her behind him.


    Raela slapped at the back of Adellus¡¯ head, sending his curly mass of brown hair flying. ¡°You can¡¯t take me anywhere, Diphian!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m your husband!¡± Adellus said, hunching his shoulders against her strikes, then released her arm and spun to look down his nose at her. ¡°Have it that way then!¡± he barked, flinging his hands in the air. ¡°If you don¡¯t want me, go back to him! I¡¯ll be the first one to tell your father what you¡¯ve done!¡± Adellus turned on his heel and stormed into the crowd. The townspeople watching put their heads together, whispering and laughing.


    Adellus disappeared from view and Raela stood fuming for a moment, clenching her fists at her sides, then followed in his wake. ¡°You can¡¯t walk away from me like that! Diphian!¡± she screeched at his back.


    Othon jumped from behind his stall and skittered after them, trying to get a word in edge-wise. ¡°Sir! Miss! My ring! You¡¯ve still got my ring!¡±


    Tessyn slipped out of the shadowed alleyway across the street and approached Othon¡¯s stall. Grevail rose and made his way to the potter. The wiry young man¡¯s eyes followed Raela.


    A varied selection of pottery sat on his table, though it wasn¡¯t anything special. ¡°How much for that there?¡± Grevail said and pointed to a clay jar with colorful flowers painted on it. Raela¡¯s shouts drifted to him over the heads of the throng around her.


    The young man diverted his attention from Adellus and Raela to shoot an annoyed glare at Grevail. ¡°Oh..that¡­I¡¯ll give it to you for one silver.¡±


    Grevail scoffed. ¡°An oni? For that?¡±


    The young man shrugged bony shoulders as if unsure what to say. ¡°Eight stro?¡± he said, turning toward Othon¡¯s stand and the disturbance Raela and Adellus were creating.


    Grevail patted him on the arm and redirected his attention to a set of stoneware drink cups. ¡°How about those then? I¡¯ll take those off you for a few stro.¡± On the edge of Grevail¡¯s vision, Tessyn crouched behind Othon¡¯s stall, reaching up to pocket the jewelry on it.


    The hawker shrugged Grevail¡¯s hand from his shoulder and looked at the cups, scratching at his nose with a dirty finger. ¡°Five stro?¡±


    Grevail pursed his lips, as if mulling it over. Tessyn, cloaked and stooped, scurried from Othon¡¯s table toward the alleyway just as the hawker emerged from the crowd, clutching the ring to his chest. Grevail released a long breath when she disappeared and no alarm was raised. The young potter furrowed his brow, questions forming on his lips, but Grevail hurried to speak first. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ah¡­sorry, I seem to have forgotten my coin,¡± he muttered, patting at his belt. ¡°I¡¯ll be back later.¡±


    The young man rolled his eyes and swept his gaze back to the ball of onlookers around Raela and Adellus.


    Grevail turned and walked away. How long will it take for him to notice th¡ª A frantic wail ripped into the light morning air.


    ¡°Who did it! You! Empty your pockets! The watch! Where is the watch!¡±


    Grevail hurried on until Othon¡¯s desperate cries faded into the murmur of the city. He took the wool cap from his head and stuffed it into his trouser pocket. While walking toward the river, he enjoyed the crisp morning and dreamed of what they could buy with so many opals. If Badhalf¡¯s luck were on their side, they¡¯d have enough to repair the shack before the spring rains came.


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    Leaving Merchant Row behind, he came to the river and the docks lining them. Vessels crowded the riverfront and laborers hauled goods from them to be sold at the many shops and stalls along Merchant Row. The Kanarkand remained still this time of year, but spring was underway, and it would soon become swollen with runoff from the Eudan hills. He turned north, toward the thick stone walls separating the rest of the city from the docks. A pair of watchman at the gates cast uncaring expressions over the crowd as he passed beneath.


    He entered The Scales, so named for the merchant¡¯s scale statues that could be found near every gate. He passed the one near this gate now, the bronze metal dirtied with a green patina. The top of the statue had been worn smooth over time, as the merchant¡¯s here claimed that giving the thing a rub on the way to their shops would bring good fortune. The buildings of The Scales were homely dwellings made from wood or brick, disrupted only by the garish extravagance of a particularly successful merchant who¡¯d made their fortune on Merchant Row and for whatever reason had not moved to where the rich lived in Hightown. A small blond woman with a dark complexion worked a loom in front of one home, winding threads that would undoubtedly become a shirt or pair of trousers in a shop window. An old man in a broad brimmed hat put the finishing touches on a chair, though he had plenty more waiting.


    Grevail had no experience of an honest living, but walking these parts of The Scales, he wondered what it must be like. I steal from them by night and envy them in the day. He wouldn¡¯t spend any time regretting what they did to Othon. In Lowtown, you stole to eat, and if you didn¡¯t steal, you didn¡¯t eat. He rubbed at the merit in his ear. If he took the opal out now, the hole would still forever mark him in the capital. There was no work for those from Lowtown, nor homes to own, or wares to sell.


    A pair of men ahead drew his eye, relieving him of his thoughts. A tall watchman nudged his shorter companion in the ribs, nodding toward Grevail. They started in his direction.


    Grevail slowed but did not stop, giving himself some time to think. He could outrun them¡ªan alleyway just ahead might provide the escape route. He prepared himself to dash out of sight, but as the grim watchmen marched forward, thought better of it. They may not be after him, though their faces left little doubt in his mind. If they knew him, they knew Tessyn too, and they might be looking for her. If he ran now, it might make things worse. With a sigh, he kept walking. There were no jewels in his pockets.


    The watchmen separated as they neared and flanked him on either side. They wore white tunics over white trousers and both tucked cudgels in their belts.


    The taller man raised a hand and came to a stop. ¡°Grevail¡­¡± he said with a scowl, as if the name put a bad taste in his mouth. He had blond hair and deep-set blue eyes that stared at Grevail as he would at a gnat in need of swatting.


    Despite himself, and like a fool, Grevail couldn¡¯t resist the urge to antagonize the man. He swept back his patched cloak for a mocking bow. ¡°I am at your command.¡±


    The tall watchman¡¯s short companion sneered and searched Grevail with contemptuous black eyes. ¡°Do you think you¡¯re funny, mudrat?¡±


    The man¡¯s voice triggered Grevail¡¯s memory. ¡°Aundan? Is that you? I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d show your face around here after what happened with Codus¡¯ wife. She set you straight. Not that anybody blamed her, the way you were groping the poor woman like a drunken fool.¡±


    Aundan¡¯s face went bright pink, but soon deepened to a furious crimson.


    The tall watchman raised a brow at Aundan, but only shook his head and returned his gaze to Grevail. ¡°What do you know about the murder of Orson?¡±


    Grevail spread his hands with an incredulous scoff. ¡°Me? I don¡¯t know anything.¡± He¡¯d heard the Epikhos¡¯ nephew had been killed, everyone had, and the rumor was someone with a merit was involved. True or not, however, Grevail hadn¡¯t a clue.


    ¡°Don¡¯t lie,¡± Aundan said in a cold, patronizing voice. ¡°One mudrat always knows what the other is up to.¡±


    ¡°I swear, I don¡¯t know anything,¡± Grevail said. It was true, too. He didn¡¯t know anything, and he didn¡¯t want to know anything about something like that. Whoever had a hand in it would be left hanging when the Khossoroi caught up to them.


    The taller watchman leveled a disbelieving look at Grevail. ¡°It would make it a lot easier for yourself if you did.¡±


    Grevail winced and shifted his feet, as if he could already feel the impact of those cudgels thwacking him about the head.


    The tall man went on. ¡°Well, it¡¯s a shame, because we do know you¡¯ve been stealing from Stappey. If you can tell us anything about what happened to Orson, we¡¯ll go easier on you.¡±


    Ashes! He felt like he¡¯d been punched in the gut. He and his friends had made a nice profit off Stappey and those herb remedies. Grevail didn¡¯t know why people swore by them, when he drank one he never felt any better, but they sold fast. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dare.¡±


    ¡°We know, Grevail,¡± Aundan said, crossing muscled arms over his watch tunic. ¡°Stappey¡¯s concoctions have made him a rich man, wealthy enough to get the Khossoroi involved.¡±


    The Khossoroi, the Epikhos¡¯ personal guardsmen, wouldn¡¯t get involved in something like that unless Amphid gave the order. He¡¯s got to be lying, Grevail thought, shrugging off a momentary panic. He offered Aundan a smile that made the man¡¯s jaw clench. You wouldn¡¯t bother with talk before laying into me with those cudgels if you had proof. ¡°How do you know?¡±


    Aundan returned Grevail¡¯s smile, but it was the tall man who spoke. ¡°We¡¯ve had our eye on you and your little gang. The Watchmaster has a message for you,¡± he said, resting a hand atop the club in his belt as if he wanted to draw it


    Grevail furrowed his brow. ¡°A message for me? Surely, Herun has bigger things on his mind.¡±


    The tall watchman stepped close. ¡°You haven¡¯t heard then?¡± he asked, bemused.


    Grevail scoured his memory but didn¡¯t remember hearing anything about Herun. His eyes dropped from the man¡¯s smiling face.


    The tall man¡¯s chest heaved from a chuckle at Grevail¡¯s silence. ¡°Aeson is the Watchmaster now. Herun died two days ago.¡±


    A lump formed in Grevail¡¯s throat. ¡°What message does Aeson have?¡±


    Aundan sauntered forward to stand beside the tall man and poked a finger hard into Grevail¡¯s chest. ¡°He wants you to know that your time in Lowtown is up. We will clean up the rat¡¯s nest once and for all. Amphid himself will give the order. You fools went way too far with Orson. Now it¡¯s time for a little revenge after we¡¯ve suffered with you for so long.¡± He turned and nodded at the tall man. ¡°Ethein here will be Aeson¡¯s second in command.¡± Aundan¡¯s smile turned sinister.


    Grevail glared at him, struggling to keep his arms at his side.


    Ethein spit on the ground. ¡°Won¡¯t be long, ashen mudrat.¡± The watchman stepped into Grevail with his shoulder and sent him stumbling. Aundan laughed again and clapped Ethein on the shoulder as they moved away. Grevail straightened and stared after them. A woman watching the altercation from the stoop of her home waved at the watchmen as they passed, then turned a glower on Grevail.


    Grevail unclenched his fists, a long breath escaping his lips. Aeson! The ash bury him! He¡¯ll burn Lowtown to the ground! Wasting no more time, he scurried down the road.


    The wall separating Lowtown from The Scales came into view, and when Grevail passed under one of the many arches in it, a stench filled his nostrils. Merits occupied most ears, and dark tattoos were inked onto the exposed flesh of most people he passed. The tangle of dirt paths that went for roads spun and curved in all directions, dotted by puddles that had an equal chance to be from chamber pots or rain...and it hadn¡¯t rained in days. He passed dwellings of every shape and color one could imagine, cobbled together from anything at hand. Here, a home where one shaky half was built from discarded bricks, the other of smooth clay. There, a house made from scavenged doors. It looked ready to fall over, but so did most things here.


    Noise filled the air and conversations drifted to him through thin walls. People called out to each other from street to street and house to house. The folk here always said, ¡®secrets are only as safe as your walls are thick¡¯. A group of children ran by him through the muck, chasing each other under the watch of a nearby mother cradling an infant in her arms. The woman smiled at them, then raised wary eyes to watch Grevail pass.


    Just beyond the mother, a beggar stretched a hand toward Grevail from where he sat in the mud. Ragged clothes hung in tatters about his body and he was covered from head to toe in a thick layer of dirt. A ratty beard clung to his gaunt face. ¡°Anything, sir? Can you give anything? The spades forced me out of the swamp,¡± he mumbled with downcast eyes. ¡°Just enough to beseech Varien.¡±


    A young woman passing Grevail in the street scoffed at the beggar. ¡°You won¡¯t find Varien¡¯s compassion here, vagabond! Get back to The Scales if you seek that from your begging!¡±


    Grevail forced himself to look away and kept walking. If he had a coin to spare, he might, even if he thought the Paragons were little more than well wishing, but he wasn¡¯t far from begging himself. He quickened his pace. Tessyn should be home by now.


    There were few businesses in Lowtown, but he passed one now. Maedra¡¯s tavern. It towered over the small huts stacked precariously against its walls. A two story building was a rare sight in Lowtown. It stood on the corner there for as long as he could remember. More than a few nights he spent inside, drinking more than he should.


    Old Maedra himself shuffled toward the large green door of his business. Rumor had it that he was nearly eighty years old. Grevail doubted anyone could be that old, especially anyone from Lowtown. Maedra did have many interesting stories though, the kind of stories only someone very old might know. Stories about the civil war, others about the Long Dark. The old man placed a frail hand on the door and swung it open. Shouts and drunken singing spilled into the street before it closed and was muffled again.


    Grevail moved on, eventually setting foot on the path to his shack. People milled about, cutting in and out of view on the swirling, meandering trails between ramshackle buildings. The slanted tin roof of his home, peppered with holes, greeted him as he came near. The rotted and cracking walls were patched over with scavenged boards last winter. Grevail shook his head with a weary sigh. The spring rains would be tough this year. It was modest, even by Lowtown standards, but it was home. Grevail stopped at the door and knocked. ¡°It¡¯s me!¡±


    The door swung open to reveal Tessyn, studying him with sharp brown eyes smoldering with frustration.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± he asked.


    She waved him in and he followed, closing the door behind him. Inside, a pair of bunks sat against each wall and between them, a stone fire-pit was set into dusty floor planks. They always used the best wood they could find for the floor. A crooked wall was one thing¡ªan uneven floor quite another.


    Tessyn plopped down on Raela¡¯s bunk beneath her own, motioning at a bag beside her. ¡°It¡¯s fake, well most of it anyway,¡± she said as if she had to force the words out. ¡°I took it to Jothon first thing.¡±


    ¡°Already?¡±


    Tessyn frowned at the bag. ¡°Didn¡¯t take him long to go through it¡­and when he realized most of it was worthless he nearly tossed me out on my head.¡±


    ¡°Fake?¡± Grevail sank onto his own bunk, pulled down by the hard feeling in the pit of his stomach. ¡°No opals?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re not opals, Grevail. I don¡¯t know what they are, some imitation¡­and a pretty good one too. If we could find out how to make something that convincing, we¡¯d have a fortune. There are a few Jothon said are real, if low quality, but most of the metal is plated.¡± Tessyn turned the bag over and poured the jewelry out in a metallic clatter on the bed. She picked up a bracelet, much like the one Grevail saw Othon offer Raela. ¡°We won¡¯t get much for it, if anything.¡±


    Grevail put a hand to his head. ¡°That isn¡¯t all we have to worry about¡ª¡± a knock at the door stopped him.


    ¡°It¡¯s me!¡± came Raela¡¯s soft voice.


    Grevail stood and unlatched the door, swinging it open. Raela offered him a bright smile.


    At her shoulder, Adellus issued a grin of his own. The curly brown hair tucked behind his ears revealed his blue opal, a badge of honor here in Lowtown. He shouldered his way inside. ¡°So? I heard Tessyn in here. What did we get?¡± He took in the jewelry on the bed and his smile deepened. ¡°A good haul!¡±


    Closing the door, Raela came to sit beside Tessyn. ¡°All that? Quick hands!¡±


    Tessyn stared at the baubles in silence, while Grevail made himself busy scrubbing at some dirt with a shoe.


    Adellus cast a few glances between them, furrowing his brow. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fake,¡± Tessyn said as if she wanted to say anything else. ¡°Fake, fake, fake.¡±


    Adellus heaved a defeated sigh and leaned against the upright of the bunk, rubbing his chin. ¡°Not good news.¡±


    Raela twisted her lips. ¡°I told all of you Othon was no good.¡±


    ¡°What should we have done instead?¡± Grevail wanted to argue with her, but only because he knew she was right. She¡¯ll be reminding me of this for years to come.


    Raela frowned at his tone.


    Adellus sucked at his lip. ¡°What now? The rain is almost here¡­I can feel it in the air. We don¡¯t have any food for tonight...¡±


    Grevail took a deep breath at the desperation tinging Adellus¡¯ voice. ¡°I can see if Drophee will give me another loan.¡±


    Raela shook her head.  ¡°She wouldn¡¯t think twice¡­or even once, after what happened last time.¡±


    A silence stretched until Tessyn broke in. ¡°I could ask Xylen¡­¡±


    ¡°Xylen?¡± Adellus asked.


    ¡°Are you crazy?¡± Raela¡¯s eyebrows climbed to her hairline.


    Tessyn shrugged, ducking from the stares she received. ¡°I know he would do it for me¡­¡±


    ¡°No Tessyn. He won¡¯t leave it that, I know he won¡¯t,¡± Grevail muttered. Once Xylen and his gang got their claws in someone, they wouldn¡¯t ever let them go. Tessyn would be pulled into his schemes forever.


    Tessyn seemed prepared to argue, but fell silent, lips settling into an angry line.


    Adellus swept his hair back with a grunt. ¡°We can get more out of Stappey. It won¡¯t last long, but it will have to do until we can get another reliable mark.¡±


    ¡°About that¡­¡± Grevail began but paused, thinking of how best to deliver the news. He didn¡¯t want to tell them, especially not after this failed heist, but they had to know. ¡°We have more to worry about than Xylen or Othon¡­or even finding food tonight,¡± he said.


    ¡°Like what?¡± Adellus asked, wrinkling his nose. ¡°What else could be more important than not starving?¡±


    Grevail scooted to the edge of the bunk, lowering his voice. ¡°Herun is dead.¡±


    A sympathetic squeak escaped Raela. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s terrible.¡±


    Tessyn raised an eyebrow at her. ¡°Terrible? Herun?¡±


    A dark look swept across Raela¡¯s face at Tessyn¡¯s indifference. ¡°He wasn¡¯t a bad man. He gave to the orphanage every year,¡± she raised an admonishing finger in the air, ¡°from his own salary.¡±


    ¡°He would have bopped you on your pretty little head if he had the chance, I¡¯m sure of that.¡± Tessyn turned sharp brown eyes on Grevail. ¡°What does that matter to us?¡±


    Adellus crossed the room and jumped into his bunk above Grevail, resulting in a familiar creak of the frame. ¡°Herun wasn¡¯t all that bad, but whoever replaced him can¡¯t be any worse.¡±


    Grevail shook his head. ¡°Would you like to bet on that?¡±


    Tessyn fastened him with a level look. ¡°Well¡­spit it out, what is it?¡±


    ¡°Aeson is the Watchmaster now.¡±


    A long silence stretched as his friends exchanged glances.


    ¡°Bury my spirit,¡± Raela grumbled.


    ¡°Aeson,¡± Tessyn said in disbelief. ¡°He¡¯d throw his own mother in a cell for looking at him funny!¡±


    ¡°That isn¡¯t even the worst of it still.¡± Grevail recounted what the watch said.


    ¡°Ethein? I¡¯ve never heard of him,¡± Adellus said.


    ¡°Could they be lying?¡± Raela asked. ¡°Why would Amphid do this now? Lowtown has been here¡­well¡­since forever. I heard about Orson but that¡¯s just a rumor.¡±


    Grevail took a deep breath. ¡°I don¡¯t think we can afford to brush off a threat like that.¡±


    Adellus barked a dry chuckle. ¡°If that isn¡¯t our luck. Nobody even knows if someone from Lowtown did it. I haven¡¯t heard anything about who did it.¡±


    Raela rolled her eyes. ¡°It isn¡¯t a crime someone would be bragging about over a mug at Maedra¡¯s, Dell, unless they¡¯ve got a head full of ash.¡±


    ¡°All I¡¯ve heard is that whoever did it had a merit in their ear,¡± Grevail said. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t surprise me if Xylen was involved.¡± Xylen¡¯s gang was up to more than just robbery lately. Grevail was always listening, but nobody from Lowtown had uttered a peep about Orson¡¯s murder. Raela was right. Even if someone from Lowtown knew more, they¡¯d have a head full of ash to talk about it now.


    ¡°That¡¯s all most people need,¡± Tessyn said. ¡°An excuse. Maybe that¡¯s all Amphid needs now too.¡± She slapped the mattress with a growl, catapulting jewelry into the air. ¡°The weight of it! What next? Will the Thava invade Lowtown too? Jail us in the Refuge for being Cythraul?¡±


    Adellus grunted. ¡°They¡¯d like to, maybe Amphid gave them his blessing too. A lot of Breakers in Lowtown and the Thava don¡¯t view the rest of us any better. We are all too much like Dawnbreakers for them.¡±


    Tessyn muttered at his words. Raela patted her shoulder but it seemed to give Tessyn little comfort. She looked around the room as if a solution was hiding in it. ¡°What should we do then? What can we do?¡±


    Grevail wanted to have an answer for her. They always seemed to end up back where they started. Lowtown had a way of pulling you down into the mud and never letting you back up. ¡°I can take whatever is worth selling to Gaston, if anybody might give a few more than it¡¯s worth, he will.¡± His suggestion was met with silence. Grevail laid down on his bunk. ¡°We¡¯ll figure it out, we always do.¡± They usually did, but this time, he wasn¡¯t so sure.

 A Piece Of The Ear

    Grevail stuffed the few good pieces of jewelry Tessyn separated from the junk into his pocket. ¡°I won¡¯t be long.¡±


    Raela sat on her bunk, wrapped inside a blanket¡ªbright red hair spilling from the top like a bouquet. ¡°Please be careful. If what those watchmen said was true, they¡¯ll be looking for you.¡±


    ¡°I will,¡± Grevail said, offering what he hoped was a confident smile. ¡°You just be ready to finish that story tonight.¡±


    ¡°I bet Coaquin finds the Shimmerbeast in the forest and kills it,¡± Adellus said, rolling to the edge of his bunk.


    Raela grinned. ¡°You would.¡±


    Tessyn frowned from where she knelt by the fire-pit, shuffling coals with a stick. ¡°I won¡¯t wait around till we starve to death. I¡¯ll see what I can get tonight.¡± When her words were received with admonishing silence, she met their eyes in a show of defiance. ¡°We can¡¯t stay in here forever.¡±


    ¡°Stay away from Stappey, Tessyn. It isn¡¯t worth it,¡± Grevail said, and after a moment¡¯s thought added, ¡°Xylen too.¡±


    Tessyn set her jaw and fixed him with a steely gaze. ¡°I¡¯m no child. I won¡¯t bother with either of them, but I can¡¯t just sit here.¡± She resumed poking the fire with more force than she had a moment ago. A thin trail of opaque white smoke sped toward a hole in the ceiling from her efforts. Grevail watched it dance and twirl on the ascent. If only he could be like that. You can¡¯t catch smoke.


    With a sigh, he turned toward the door. ¡°I¡¯ll be back.¡± Stepping into the narrow path outside, he set off toward Hightown in the west of the city where Gaston lived. The streets were alive at dusk here in Lowtown, and people wandered the curling, muddy trails between shacks. He kept an eye out for the watch, something he couldn¡¯t remember doing before in Lowtown, even on the worst days. He decided to take the Merchant Row route. The watch would be less likely to spot him there, and even if they did, it would be much easier to get away.


    The slanted shacks and serpentine dirt streets soon gave way to the wide and industrious roads of Merchant Row in the south of the city. Traders and vendors lined the streets, like they always did, filling the air with their advertisements. Although many merchants shuttered their shops in the evening, some would stay late into the night, hoping to catch sailors coming up or down the river.


    A man with a red feather in his broad cap lured potential customers with extravagant gestures, like the mating dances of birds in the swamp. ¡°Swamp roots! Every flavor, every color, every scent!¡± He threw back his dark shoulder-length hair and bellowed even louder. ¡°A million uses, but just one low price! Capo, didenudra, jisalma, appotine! I have it all! For cooking, for health, for the bedroom! For the misses or the mistress!¡±


    Further along, a gruff man with a large beard waved a fur at Grevail from atop a wagon with a spade emblazoned on the side. ¡°Findin¡¯ furs like these ain¡¯t easy young¡¯n! Give it a feel, you¡¯ll swear it was silk!¡± The man hopped down and came to walk alongside him. The strong odor of stale sweat invaded Grevail¡¯s nostrils. The man chuckled and held the fur under Grevail¡¯s chin. ¡°A young lady would love it! A hat? Maybe a scarf? Winter is always near.¡±


    Beaver fur, and low quality. Grevail could see bald spots. He ignored the man, who eventually spun away with a frustrated grumble.


    A red headed woman surrounded by cages filled with flapping birds called out in a piercing drone. ¡°Birds from Faischeir! A seething warbler from the remote Ubesouda! They make wonderful pets!¡± She knelt beside a cage that contained a huge green bird with a curved black beak. ¡°Don¡¯t you, Pitri?¡±


    ¡°I do! Yes I do! Yes I do!¡± the bird squawked. The woman turned to give Grevail a wink and a knowing smile. He had never talked to a bird before, but she wouldn¡¯t be smiling at his empty purse, and he¡¯d rather not draw the ire of a merchant who might call for the watch.


    On Merchant Row or in The Scales is where he and his gang made their money. The watch didn¡¯t patrol The Scales much, nor would they jump out of their chairs at the tavern to investigate a supposed crime in Merchant Row, but for the rich in Hightown it was a different story. They¡¯d cut off a hand in Hightown.


    With the watch on his mind, Grevail dug into his pocket and retrieved the knit wool cap. He pulled it over his head and tugged it down to cover the merit in his ear. It was one thing to display the thumb sized green opal pierced into the top arch of his earlobe here, but quite another in Hightown.


    He passed a Spiritkeep and wade through the warm yellow light spilling from the round windows of the circular, tower-like building. He imagined the Thavak inside, counting the day¡¯s take, just like Grevail did. Coin for beseechings to the Paragons, or as Grevail saw it, wishes for things that would never come. Most people in Lowtown didn¡¯t even wear manifests, symbols of the Paragons thought to bring good fortune. But I¡¯m the thief! He scowled at the building, ignoring the jewelry in his pocket that clinked with every step.


    After a short while, the modest shops of merchants turned into the stone buildings of Hightown. Carriages rumbled along well-paved avenues, accompanied by the clack of hooves. The people here wore clothes worth more than everything Grevail owned. Not many roamed the streets on the verge of night, and fewer still who would stick out to a watchman like Grevail would. He slunk from shadow to shadow, hoping he was as unremarkable as a shadow might be. With a pocketful of jewelry and a merit in his ear, the watch in Hightown would throw him in jail without another thought. Fortunately, Gaston¡¯s house wasn¡¯t far.


    It soon rose ahead like a palace at the corner of an intersection, and to Grevail, it really was a palace. Street lamps cast early pale shadows on the two story white facade. The balcony where Gaston sometimes greeted him was empty. Grevail made his way into the narrow alley behind the house. He¡¯d never been through the front door¡ªGaston claimed it was blocked by his ¡®pieces¡¯. Grevail unlatched the fence gate and strode up to the door, knocking three times in quick succession. A muffled clatter emanated from inside, as if Gaston were moving things about.


    The door opened and Gaston Chavanne poked his balding head into the hastening night. Dark black eyes searched the dusk before centering on Grevail. A broad smile broke over his face. ¡°Grevail¡­I was hoping to see you. Come in...come in.¡±


    Grevail entered and Gaston closed the door behind him. A musty odor permeated the dim and crowded hallway where they stood. A sword and shield hung on the backside of the door, beside a stone statue of a heavyset woman in a bizarre dress. A stuffed cat with a ghastly expression on its face was mounted on the wall above the statue. Grevail grimaced. ¡°I see you¡¯ve been collecting more¡­things¡­Gaston.¡±


    Gaston nodded, a spark of excitement lighting his eyes at the mention of his collection. ¡°Oh, of course, Grevail. Selling quite a few too!¡± His stomach bulged between flaps of a beige silk robe and a gold chain snaked across the thick hair on his chest. He sported more rings than he had fingers and his right wrist was clad in a large, garish bracelet. ¡°Do you have something for me?¡± Without waiting for confirmation, Gaston shuffled down the hallway, waving Grevail after him. ¡°Come, let¡¯s have a drink and take a look.¡±


    Grevail followed, gawking at the things in Gaston¡¯s house. It reminded him of the Conveyor museum near the palace, except the museum was well-kept and orderly. Paintings lined this part of the hallway, so much that he couldn¡¯t see the walls. One picture was of a man on a bright green field of grass, a dog at his side. Another, a tall blond woman holding some kind of fish that was twice as long as she was and thin as a snake. Surely that doesn¡¯t exist, Grevail thought. Near the end of the hallway hung a portrait of a small woman in a rowboat. A cap sat on her head and a long coat covered her body from head to toe. She held a stick in the water, as if to check depth or navigate shallows and a lantern hung from the bow of her craft.


    ¡°Kaselle?¡± Grevail asked.


    Gaston had entered a room dominated by a massive table in the center, cluttered with even more things. A lone but very bright candle flickered behind him as he turned to regard Grevail, raising an eyebrow.


    Grevail gestured at the painting.


    ¡°Oh, yes! I¡¯m no Sacar of course, I¡¯ve never adhered to the Accord as much as the Thava would like, but I¡¯ve taken a liking to her. The only Paragon I¡¯ve ever really enjoyed.¡± Gaston pulled at one of the necklaces around his neck, dangling the pendant in the air. It was a silver boat oar with a line of small white opals down the center¡ªa manifest of Kaselle. ¡°I admit it is odd that I would take the Paragon of the sea as my favorite when I live so far from it, but her depictions fetch better prices than others, except perhaps Caesian. I heard an Urucan general paid his own weight in gold for a sculpture of Caesian once. You know how they love war, the Urucan.¡± He inclined his head at the painting. ¡°I doubt I¡¯ll get as much for that, but fine art none-the-less. Painted by Rutteo Zaneta.¡±


    ¡°Ahhh¡­¡± Grevail said and put a finger to his lips. ¡°He was Andradan?¡±


    Gaston waddled to the table with a chuckle. ¡°Claichuri¡­Grevail. I didn¡¯t know you had an interest in art.¡±


    Grevail smirked and came to stand beside a chair on which several books had been piled. ¡°I don¡¯t, only humoring you.¡± He did like Gaston, but the man¡¯s purse strings might find themselves more easily loosed if he was in a good mood, and talking about the things scattered around his house was always sure to bring a smile to his face.


    Gaston waved at the books as he sat. ¡°Just set those on the floor.¡± He removed the cork of a bottle with a pop and retrieved a small glass from somewhere in the things piled on the table. ¡°Someone with a talent like yours could make a fine living in art¡­if you knew what to look for.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Grevail placed the books on the floor and sat, then leaned across the table to take the glass Gaston proffered. ¡°You could tell me what to look for.¡±


    Gaston smiled as he tilted the bottle above another glass. ¡°I¡¯ll keep an ear out.¡± He pressed the cork back in and set the bottle aside before raising his drink.


    Grevail raised his in turn.


    ¡°Till ash,¡± Gaston intoned.


    Grevail craned his head back and tipped the liquor into his mouth. A slow burn ran down his throat and into his gut, then radiated throughout his body. It had a sweet, smoky taste, like toasted honey. He coughed and wiped at his watering eyes. ¡°Whew! What was that?¡±


    Gaston lit his pipe with the aid of the nearby candle and puffed at it. ¡°Tonderan spirits. The fellow I bought it from said they use honey from high up in the Elders. I¡¯ve heard the bees up there grow as big as a man¡¯s hand.¡± Gaston looked into his empty glass with a thoughtful frown. ¡°It must be a terribly frightful thing to see a swarm of them.¡±


    ¡°Strong stuff,¡± Grevail said, clearing his throat. He reached into his pocket and grabbed the jewelry. ¡°I don¡¯t have much, but I know you are always in the market for metals and stones. I¡¯m hoping you can give me something for it.¡± He handed Gaston the necklaces, rings, and other trinkets.


    Upon sight of the jewelry, Gaston¡¯s smile vanished and he drew down in a serious, businesslike expression. He materialized a magnifying glass from somewhere and hunched over the pieces, analyzing each of them. Muttering, he spun them in his hands, shooting glances at Grevail, and when finished, set the magnifying glass aside to regard him over clasped hands. ¡°I¡¯ll give you three gold for the lot.¡±


    ¡°Andradan gold?¡±


    Gaston spread his hands with a gentle roll of his eyes. ¡°Eudan ess. What do you expect, Grevail? This isn¡¯t a horde of exotics you¡¯ve brought me. A few tarnished rings that have seen better days and some cheap necklaces, most of it is plated anyway,¡± he finished in an admonishing tone. ¡°Three is very generous.¡±


    Grevail unclenched his jaw and relaxed the fist he wanted to slam on the table. He released a long sigh. Three ess wouldn¡¯t last long, and they were already on unsteady ground. ¡°Alright¡­I¡¯ll take it then.¡±


    Gaston studied Grevail, poking at the pile of jewelry with a finger. ¡°We¡¯re friends, Grevail. I¡¯ll help you when I can, you know that. All you have to do is ask.¡± He produced a purse from under the table, clinking with coin, and untied the strings. After digging out three ess, he offered them across the table.


    Grevail stared past the ess in Gaston¡¯s palm to the purse cupped in his hand. He shook his head. He¡¯d made enough enemies for favors he never repaid. It never solved anything anyway. They always ended up back where they started. One day they¡¯d find his corpse, bent and tortured from old age, face down in the mud of Lowtown. His pockets empty as always and without a soul to bury the body. Trapped, he thought, like a mudrat. He scooped the coins from Gaston¡¯s hand and tucked them away. ¡°Thanks for your help Gaston. I know I¡¯ve only got here, but I should get back. I¡¯ll have something better next time.¡± He moved to stand.


    ¡°Hold on.¡± Gaston halted him with a hand. ¡°Maybe¡­I think I have a job for you.¡± The round man considered Grevail, or perhaps what he¡¯d just said, but then with a shake of his head waved Grevail to sit. ¡°Hear me out.¡± The candle beside Gaston beamed over the shaky towers of his collection surrounding the table.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Grevail asked, sinking into the chair.


    Gaston puffed at his pipe a moment before realizing it had went out. ¡°This won¡¯t be easy, it could very well be as dangerous as it gets.¡± He jabbed the pipe stem at Grevail. ¡°First, you must promise me you won¡¯t say a word to anyone else in Lowtown.¡±


    Grevail frowned. ¡°Gaston, you know I don¡¯t go around flapping my lips, especially with what we talk about.¡±


    ¡°I know¡­I know,¡± Gaston said, bobbing his head as if reassuring himself. ¡°You¡¯ve heard about Aeson by now, haven¡¯t you?¡± Grevail nodded and he continued. ¡°He¡¯ll be putting feet to the fire, that is certain, so for the time being we must be careful.¡±


    Grevail grunted in agreement. He thought about telling Gaston what the watchmen said, but it wouldn¡¯t do him any good. The watch wouldn¡¯t be knocking on the doors of folk in Hightown. ¡°So what is the job? Art? I don¡¯t know much about it but I¡¯ll take anything right now.¡±


    Gaston lit his pipe again, a smile bending his lips around the stem. ¡°I thought you might say that. Fine art is nice enough, but even more rare¡­even more valuable¡­are Emberfolk artifacts.¡±


    Grevail knit his brow. ¡°I know, I¡¯ve brought a few to you over the years.¡±


    ¡°And you were paid well for them, as I¡¯m sure you remember, but I¡¯ve got word on something big¡­much bigger than the few keepsakes some Breaker has hidden away under the floorboards. A burial has been found in Astranid¡¯s marsh¡­just a few days east of here.¡±


    ¡°A burial, Gaston? Emberfolk? I can sneak into a house. I can slip a purse from the belt of a shopkeep, but that is something else altogether. You know the Thava guard those tombs. The Conveyors are probably searching it right now too.¡±


    Gaston drew on his pipe with a shake of his head. ¡°Not yet,¡± he said in a strained voice, then expelled a thick cloud over their heads, ¡°but they¡¯ve been sent for. Thavan guards are there¡­but only a handful of Keepers for such a remote place and on short notice. This isn¡¯t your run of the mill tomb, Grevail. This is something special.¡±


    Grevail wet his lips. He didn¡¯t know anything about these tombs, and he certainly didn¡¯t know much about the Emberfolk. There were many Breakers in Lowtown, people who worshiped the Emberfolk, and in doing so drew the ire of the Thava. That was reason enough for him to keep clear of such things¡ªthe watch were enough trouble for him. Breakers usually ended up in a Thavan prison sooner or later for being Cythraul, people who had broken the Accord, like Grevail¡¯s parents. That¡¯s if the Thava didn¡¯t put them on the pyre first. Gaston was watching him, judging his reaction. What other choice do I have? ¡°How do you know that? Do you know if anything is in it?¡±


    ¡°I have someone close who keeps me informed on these things,¡± Gaston said in a prideful tone. ¡°He¡¯s sure they¡¯ve hit a big one, a tomb ornate enough to flatter a Tayori merchant.¡± Gaston¡¯s voice adopted an edge of surety. ¡°Bury my spirit if there isn¡¯t anything in it.¡±


    ¡°What do you want me to do? The weight of it, Gaston. This could be a death sentence. You can¡¯t even tell me there is something to find in there? A life in Lowtown is better than death on the pyre.¡±


    Gaston¡¯s features softened. ¡°I know you want out of there¡­you and your friends. Why did you bring this to me?¡± he asked, raising an eyebrow and gesturing at the pile of jewelry. ¡°I know it isn¡¯t because you thought it was valuable. You need the money, and now that Aeson is at the helm, you really need it.¡±


    The walls seemed closer than they were moments ago. Sweat slicked Grevail¡¯s palms and his heartbeat quickened. He tucked a hand into his pocket, running the three ess through his fingers. A week of food, maybe two if they were lucky. What would they do after that with the watch on the hunt?


    ¡°One big heist could see to it.¡± Gaston pointed at Grevail¡¯s ear. ¡°Unless a miracle happens, you won¡¯t get anywhere in this town with that. You could make a fortune for just a few pieces out of there. I know buyers, Grevail. Nobles and lords, the kind of people who have coin to throw away. I¡¯ve seen Emberfolk relics go for thousands of ess¡­sold a few myself too.¡±


    Grevail rubbed the merit in his ear. The green stone bought him passage into Lowtown, but was also why he¡¯d never find his way out. A piece of the ear for passage here. Grevail remembered the second half too. Repeat what you hear, we¡¯ll take more than an ear.


    Gaston rested his elbows on the table, searching Grevail with a compassionate gaze. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t offer if I thought you weren¡¯t capable or I didn¡¯t trust you. I know it¡¯s outside your usual fare. I have risk in this too¡­if you get caught and give my name¡­¡± Grevail began to interject and Gaston raised his hands, ¡°under duress of course.¡±


    ¡°Not even then,¡± Grevail said. Lowtowners didn¡¯t talk to the watch.


    Gaston barked a laugh. ¡°Alright, not even then¡­but think about it, only a few Keepers out there¡­bored to death by themselves in the wilderness. Would it be any different than sneaking around The Scales and swiping a few shiny pieces from under some shopkeep¡¯s nose? Even easier I¡¯d say¡­and much less chance to have it traced back to you. If you want a way out of the mud, this is it. A thousand ess for you and your friends.¡± Gaston leaned back in his chair and watched Grevail with pursed lips. ¡°I¡¯ll give you fifty just for taking a look¡ªbut don¡¯t think you can trick me. You¡¯ll have to bring something back that tells me you¡¯ve been there.¡±


    Grevail raised an eyebrow at Gaston. How heavy was a thousand coins? It would weigh half as much as he did, if not more. They could buy a house with thick walls and a roof that did not leak. They could buy fine clothes and all the food they could eat. Grevail pictured himself dressed like he was from Hightown. Dell would drink Maedra¡¯s dry. Raela could have a library to rival the Conveyors museum and Tessyn an armory of knives. Even fifty ess might give them enough to escape Lowtown and Aeson. ¡°I can¡¯t make any decisions without telling the others.¡± Gaston raised a wary hand but Grevail knew what he was about to say. ¡°I¡¯ll have to tell them, Gaston, I can¡¯t do this alone.¡±


    ¡°I know you don¡¯t keep anything from your friends. I only ask that you remind them to keep this quiet. Not a word to anyone else.¡±


    Grevail nodded and stood, a sudden rush of excitement coursing through him. ¡°I best be on my way then. I¡¯ll return to let you know what we decide.¡±


    Gaston stood with him. ¡°No need for that. With things the way they are, it¡¯s best if we keep contact to a minimum.¡± Reaching over the table, he handed Grevail a folded slip of paper. ¡°These are the instructions I was given on how to reach it. A few days down the Kinarkand. Don¡¯t let that fall into the wrong hands, Grevail. There isn¡¯t a family of Breakers from here to Matara who wouldn¡¯t kill for it, not to mention what the Thava would do to you if they found it. If you go, you must move quickly.¡±


    Grevail grabbed the paper and unfolded it to study the crudely drawn map and instructions. ¡°A lake?¡±


    Gaston shrugged. ¡°Apparently¡­they drained it while mining ore nearby, then ran to tell a Thavan first thing. More lakes like that in the marsh than there are stars in the sky, and they happened upon one with a treasure hiding beneath it. Makes me wonder what else might be out there.¡± He chuckled, rubbing at his jowls. ¡°I wish I could have seen their faces when they saw what was at the bottom¡±


    Grevail shoved the note into his pocket. A burial at the bottom of a lake? What am I doing? ¡°Are you sure we¡¯ll even be able to get inside?¡±


    ¡°My informant is certain,¡± Gaston said with a confident nod. ¡°Some of the workers poked a head through the door. The water¡­somehow it didn¡¯t get inside.¡± Gaston¡¯s eyes drifted toward the ceiling, as if contemplating how that could be, but his attention returned to Grevail, and remembering he was about to depart, waved him toward the door.


    Gaston ushered him to the exit, and after another round of farewells along with more nervous warnings, Grevail left. Once again in the street, the quiet of night now stretched over Eudan. Tiny Nila floated in the cloudless sky above, her eerie yellow light casting a haze over the city.


    Grevail thought about what Gaston said as he returned to Lowtown. He didn¡¯t know much about the Emberfolk, nobody but Breakers or Conveyors did, though he did know people would pay for that kind of thing. If only they could be sure there was something inside. He went over the conversation he might have with his friends on the way home. Try as he might, he couldn¡¯t make it sound like a good idea.


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


    Gaston listened at his door for the click of the gate that told him the young man was on his way. It was not that he didn¡¯t trust Grevail, he did, but the stresses of a life in Lowtown could lead people to undesirable things. As Lowtown went, Grevail and his little gang were tame creatures.


    Gaston returned down the hallway, filled with the most prized items in his collection and sat at the table. He¡¯d spent a great deal of time considering who would be right for this job, but in truth, there was little choice. Dionyth had been jailed again and might face the gallows this time. Heric had disappeared¡ªof his own will or another¡¯s Gaston never found out. Then there was Coibea, but he didn¡¯t trust her nearly enough for this type of work. If it weren¡¯t for the urgency needed he might have waited, but the Conveyors would arrive by then. It was possible the Conveyor scribes were there already, but Gaston was confident Grevail would survive. He may be a mudrat, but he wasn¡¯t stupid.


    Also, there was the matter of the Stricken. Perhaps he should have said something, if Grevail would have even believed. It was likely little more than fool¡¯s tales, as it usually was, but it could scare the young man and his friends off the job altogether. There were always rumors of course, whispered in a tavern corner by a friend of a friend whose uncle had seen one. Stricken hadn¡¯t ventured out from the remote wilderness of Voxetta in hundreds of years, except for a few lone cases, which were swept up in short order by the Purifiers. Most people thought them to be children¡¯s tales, but lately, there¡¯d been dozens of sightings, all in the past few days and all in the marsh near this tomb.


    He exhaled and grabbed the bottle to pour himself another drink. Since the news of Aeson he was sure Grevail would jump at the opportunity. Lowtown would be a rat¡¯s nest on fire soon¡ªthe whole lot scrambling to get out before Amphid set the watch loose. It would be bad for business, though his Lowtown contacts rarely ever brought him anything worth more than a handful of ess. To be honest, he wasn¡¯t sure why Amphid hadn¡¯t acted before now.


    He put everything else from his mind. If what he¡¯d been told about this tomb were true, they wouldn¡¯t have much more than gold to worry about. Now, he just had to hope that Grevail was not killed in the process or even worse, captured. His advantage had already been squandered and others wouldn¡¯t be far behind.

 A Night Of Legends

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if we can do this, Grevail. Gaston said a few, not ten, or twenty, or however many are out there,¡± Raela whispered. She lay flat on her stomach next to him and they both peered down into the remains of what had been a large, deep lake.


    In the bottom sat an odd structure, like nothing they¡¯d ever seen before. A massive round dome emerged from the dark lake bed like the muddied shell of a giant crab. A chest high wall, draped in dried algae that ruffled in the wind, surrounded the dome¡¯s entrance.


    Ten Thavan soldiers sat around a bonfire inside the wall, beside what appeared to be a statue three times as tall as a man, though it was caked in mud and unrecognizable. The maroon and gold striped uniforms of the Keepers were a rare smudge of color amid the earthy browns and grays. The Keepers were what the Thava called the lowest ranking soldiers, who guarded Spiritkeeps and the vast wealth collected from them which eventually made its way to the palaces of Andrada. The courtyard was near a hundred paces from where Grevail lay on the shore at the tip of the oval lake.


    ¡°There it was again!¡± Adellus pointed to the bank on the right.


    Grevail swiveled his head that way. Arulan¡¯s pale light bathed the dark lumps of foliage along the shore, but even so, nothing jumped out at him. ¡°You¡¯ve been seeing things since we left Lowtown. Are you sure?¡± Grevail asked, returning his eyes to the dome.


    ¡°I swear I saw movement!¡± Adellus said. ¡°I don¡¯t know what it was, but something is out there.¡±


    Grevail shook his head. They¡¯d all been jumpy since arriving late in the day to find so many Thava here. For the most part, the Keepers drank and caroused around the fire, though once, one of them rose to walk around the bottom of the lake. Grevail and his friends had retreated into the brush until the man returned to the courtyard and the company of his comrades. Beside that, it had been a long while of biding their time among the tall reeds and grass, awaiting an opportunity.


    A flash lit the horizon, followed by the low roar of thunder that like a trumpet blast in a king¡¯s court, announced the arrival of the first fat raindrops. A slow and cold wind accompanied the rain, bending the stunted marsh trees and tall grass around them.


    ¡°Oh great¡­¡± Raela scowled up at the night sky, then turned her disapproval on Grevail.


    Grevail reached into his rucksack nearby and dug out his cloak. He left it in his bag so it wouldn¡¯t get muddy and caught on every bramble. Raela already wore hers, and it was now coated in the dark, abundant marsh mud. She brushed a strand of red hair away from emerald green eyes that turned to search the night like a cat. She would drag him away in a headlock if they didn¡¯t catch a break soon.


    For a while they contented themselves with listening to the pop and smack of the gentle shower on their cloaks. Above them, Arulan swam across a twinkling, star-strewn sky hemmed by dark clouds. After some time, the light rain turned to a downpour.


    One of the Thava in the courtyard stood and slapped a shining kettle helm on his head. He was likely the leader, a Vario, as they were called. The Thava had many different ranks and names, none of which Grevail was all that familiar with. The distant murmur of the man¡¯s voice echoed across the barren lake bed. The Keepers under his command stood and began gathering their things. The Vario pointed at one soldier, then another, and left the courtyard through the eastern gate, followed by most of his men. They headed toward the bank where they scrabbled out under the onslaught from above. The two Keepers the Vario pointed at were left behind.


    ¡°Where are they going?¡± Tessyn asked.


    ¡°To their cam..ca..camp,¡± Adellus said through chattering teeth.


    Grevail shivered from the cold too¡ªthe rain already soaked through his old cloak and deep into his clothes. The remaining two Keepers tossed more wood on the fire, perhaps in the hope it would survive the rain. One of them, a short fellow with dark hair, still clutched a bottle in his hand. He took a drink and set it beside the fire.


    ¡°We can get passed two,¡± Grevail said.


    ¡°Grevail!¡± Raela¡¯s face turned incredulous, as if he¡¯d lost his mind. ¡°How do we know they won¡¯t come back?¡±


    ¡°Not as long as this rain keeps up,¡± he said.


    ¡°How are we going to do it?¡± Tessyn asked.


    ¡°I could lure them away,¡± Adellus said. ¡°It might be difficult in the mud, but I think they¡¯ve had enough drink.¡± He adopted a shrill voice. ¡°Sirs¡­brave sirs¡­might you help a beautiful¡­and rich¡­lady find her way out of the swamp!¡±


    Tessyn rolled her eyes. ¡°You fool, Dell. What if they call the others back instead of following after you?¡±


    Grevail ignored Dell¡¯s humor, which he always resorted to when anxious or frightened, and instead considered their options. ¡°No telling what we might find in there, if anything at all. It could be filled with this mud for all we know.¡± The thought of returning empty handed was enough to make him grind his teeth. Gaston would at the very least give them fifty ess for something, maybe the description would be enough, but he didn¡¯t want to chance it. The rain showed no sign of dissipating and now fell in a steady, unrelenting sheet. A thousand ess could be waiting for them, just inside that dome. ¡°There are only two of them now. This is what we were promised.¡±


    The other soldier, a wide and bald man, busied himself erecting a tent beside the mud statue, struggling to set the tent stakes in the ground. His companion offered little help, but after a short while of curses muffled by rain, both Keepers disappeared inside.


    ¡°Are they are sleeping?¡± Raela asked.


    ¡°Staying out of the rain,¡± Tessyn said.


    Adellus pulled his cloak around himself with a shiver. ¡°Perhaps we should join them. We¡¯ll have a little bit to drink¡­share a few stories¡­stay nice and dry for a while. Then we¡¯ll ask if we can have a look at this tomb they are guarding.¡±


    Grevail shook his head. ¡°We should go now. We¡¯ll climb over the wall there.¡± He pointed to where the dome met the western wall.


    ¡°I agree.¡± Tessyn¡¯s brown eyes found his and she shot him a smile that was bright even in the darkness. ¡°We can do this. I didn¡¯t come all the way out here for nothing.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± Adellus chimed in with a resigned sigh. ¡°But I can¡¯t light a lantern in this wind, unless you think the Emberfolk left their¡¯s lit. Ash and embers, Grevail. Emberfolk?¡±


    Grevail inclined his head at Tessyn. ¡°Is the torch dry?¡±


    Tessyn stuck a hand inside her bag. ¡°It¡¯s still wrapped. Should we light it inside?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s bound to be pitch black in there,¡± Adellus said.


    ¡°You can¡¯t light it in the dark? Well, we can¡¯t go inside without light.¡± Raela¡¯s eyes darted from one of them to the next.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got some flint,¡± Adellus grunted, ¡°but if I could see in the dark we wouldn¡¯t need the torch.¡±


    Tessyn rose to her knees and looked toward the dome. ¡°I can light it from their fire. They are drunk.¡± She shrugged at the questioning looks they gave her. ¡°It will be easy.¡±


    After a moment, Grevail nodded. ¡°You should be the last to go in then.¡± If anyone knew how to tiptoe around two drunk men, it was Tessyn.


    Tessyn returned his nod with confidence, but her hand tightened around the bag in a white-knuckle grip.


    Grevail¡¯s heart quickened, the way it always did before he stole something, but this wasn¡¯t picking a pocket or pilfering a few rolls from a baker¡¯s stall. This was bigger than anything they¡¯d ever attempted before, far bigger. Ashes, stealing from under a Thavan¡¯s nose! ¡°Alright, follow me. Remember the plan. If anything happens, we meet where we camped last night on the river. Grab your bags,¡± Grevail said and snatched his up.


    Muddy waterfalls poured from the shore into the empty lake, streaming to the center and pooling around the courtyard wall. The Thavan¡¯s fire struggled to stay lit, whisking this way and that in the mild wind, sending wild shadows across the dome.


    Grevail scooted to the edge of the bank and after a moment of studying the drop, slipped over. With a wet splat, he sunk in mud to his ankles and felt it gush into his shoes. Ducking his head from the rain, he trudged down the shallow incline, pausing every few moments to shake clumps of gunk from his feet. His friends, one after another, dropped from the ledge¡ªthe sound of their movements overpowered by the downpour.


    As he crept toward the dome he lost sight of the fire and the tent on the other side of the lichen lined wall. The tomb still loomed above, a menacing, intimidating form basked in the orange of the fire. He made his way, slipping several times, until he came to the flat bottom. He was now only thirty or so paces from the wall and directly before the southern gate. He was sure it wouldn¡¯t open, packed with ages of gunk as it was, even if he wanted to open it. He looked over his shoulder to see his friends crouching in the moonlight like wet monoliths protruding from the mud.


    He turned toward the corner of the western wall. Roots and rocks stuck out of the bank on his left, but surprisingly little debris littered the lake bed¡ªonly flat, smooth mud. How long had the tomb been at the bottom of this lake and how had it remained intact?


    After crawling down the western wall and pausing every so often to listen for any movement from the soldiers, he came to where it met the dome. The Keepers would be right on the other side now. He found himself holding his breath, even knowing that it didn¡¯t matter in the rain.


    His friends slipped and slid on the mud as they waddled toward him but made little noise, even to his ears straining to hear them. He waited until they reached his position and when they did, stood to peek over the wall. The soldier¡¯s boots lay between the flaps of the tent, side by side. Water saturated the courtyard and yet more continued to fall, exploding like a trillion tiny pinpricks in the firelight. They can¡¯t be sleeping in this, he worried. That tent must be soaked through.


    He sank behind the wall again and took in his friends. Tucked into hoods, their faces were grim in the moonlight.


    ¡°Ready?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Wait,¡± Raela said, placing a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Maybe we shouldn¡¯t do this.¡±


    He stared at her. ¡°We are too close to stop now. Do we go home with nothing? To what? Aeson and Lowtown?¡± He reminded himself where they were and lowered his voice. ¡°I¡¯m going in there. You can stay out here if you want.¡± A distant flash of lightning pursued by a deep rumble punctuated his words.


    Raela searched his eyes, as if she really were wondering if he was insane. After a moment, she spread her hands. ¡°Fine.¡±


    ¡°It will be fine,¡± Adellus whispered. ¡°We¡¯ll be back at Maedra¡¯s in no time at all with a story to tell and bags of gold.¡±


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Raela rolled her eyes. ¡°We can¡¯t tell anyone anything¡­¡± she began but only shook her head and swung her gaze back to Grevail.


    ¡°I¡¯ll go over first,¡± Grevail said, giving Raela no more time to question what they were about to do. After a deep breath, he stood and jumped into the air, plunking his rear on the wall. He waited, staring at the tent, but the Keepers remained motionless. He swung a leg over, then the other, and lowered himself into the courtyard. His feet sank into the mud but here he felt something solid beneath, as if there might be a layer of stones. No wonder the Thavan couldn¡¯t get his stakes in.


    In a crouch, he moved past the tent toward the entrance of the dome, careful not to splash about in the water. White flecks of color were visible where the mud had been scraped away and Grevail assumed the dome may have been that color once, long ago. He reached the entryway and paused to listen but heard only the rain. The doorway wouldn¡¯t be out of place on any home, a bit taller than most, but it seemed so undersized on a building this large. The door itself had been torn off and now laid at his feet, one side coated in a thick layer of black gunk.


    He spared a glance over his shoulder at the tent, then with a deep breath, stuck his head inside.


    A screech tore through the rain. Grevail whirled and planted his back against the dome. His heart shot into his throat. He searched the night for a source, every muscle in his body winding into knots.


    ¡°I¡¯m trying to sleep¡­this damn rain¡­¡± came a drowsy grumble from the tent.


    ¡°Sorry, I had a dream and I thought¡­¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care! I want to get some sleep before the Vario comes back, you fool! Shutup!¡±


    ¡°They won¡¯t be back till¡¯ morning anyway and¡ª¡±


    ¡°I said shutup!¡±


    The rain washed over Grevail¡¯s senses¡ªthe smattering on the hood of his cloak filled his ears. A long breath escaped his lips before he could stop it. Motion pulled his eyes to the wall. Raela¡¯s hooded head floated above it. She waved for him to return.


    He shook his head at her and edged into the doorway again. Brief snippets of color and shapes were revealed by the Thavan¡¯s fire, but not enough to make anything out. A musty odor hit his nose before it was whisked away on a frigid breeze. The floor was solid beneath his feet and when he stretched a hand down, a smooth, dry surface met his fingertips. He leaned out of the doorway and motioned Raela on.


    She hesitated, likely scowling at him, but then scampered over the wall, dropping to the ground on the other side. She paused, cowl trained on the tent, then scurried toward him. Adellus appeared atop the wall behind her.


    Raela made it to the doorway and ducked inside. Huddling beside him, she peered at the dark innards of the dome as if a monster hid somewhere inside.


    In the courtyard, Adellus crossed the rain-swept ground without issue to join them¡ªburlap bag clutched in his hand. ¡°At least it isn¡¯t filled with mud,¡± he whispered as he crowded in beside Raela.


    Next, Tessyn¡¯s thin frame scaled down the wall. She reached the bottom and paused, crouching in water up to her ankles. From her bag she produced the torch, wrapped in wax paper, then crept toward the fire and thrust it over the flames. The paper fell away and drifted upward on a current of warm air. Even against the rain, it floated up and into the dark night, the noise of its papery undulations audible to Grevail.


    He released a breath when it disappeared from view, then immediately held another as the torch popped and fizzed in Tessyn¡¯s hand. She kept her eyes trained on the tent, just paces away. The pitch flared to life and she swiveled like a tightrope walker in the water, heading toward them. The flame sputtered and nearly died in a gust of wind, yet before it could be doused, Tessyn reached the safety of the doorway. Crouching beside them in the entrance, the torch in Tessyn¡¯s fist trailed a greasy, black smoke into the air above their heads.


    A soft gasp echoed from Tessyn¡¯s lips, and when Grevail turned from watching the tent, he soon saw why. Arched ribs of white stone met at the precipice of the dome and ran down to the floor. They were carved with decorative lines and swirls, intricately woven across each block that made it appear as if they were moving in the light of the torch. On the curved walls of the dome between these ribs huge glass mosaic scenes glittered like gems in a jewelers showcase. In one colorful illustration, a long line of people walked toward a domed building on a brilliant green hill. On another, a figure in strange armor knelt inside a black arch shaped like an arrowhead. An owl soared through white fluffy clouds on yet another panel.


    Just as Gaston said, though still difficult to believe, there was no sign that water ever entered the dome. Grevail supposed the inside looked the same as it had when it was built. His gaze returned to ground level. Red and black floor stones sparkled in the flickering light of the torch, and just ahead in the center of the room, a set of stairs disappeared into the ground. He didn¡¯t see anything to take. Perhaps they could pry something off the walls, if Gaston would accept it.


    ¡°This is¡­¡± Grevail said, but couldn¡¯t find the words.


    ¡°This is what the Thava don¡¯t want anyone to see,¡± Tessyn murmured, voice reverberating off the thick walls.


    The noise reminded Grevail of their precarious position. ¡°Come on,¡± he said and waddled in a crouch toward the steps, muddy shoes sliding on the smooth floor. The red and black stones disappeared from Tessyn¡¯s torchlight into murky darkness, like a shimmering path to the underworld.


    After a look at his friends, Grevail started down. Tessyn took the lead, lighting the way, and they continued downward with the plopping of muddied feet that was all too loud in Grevail¡¯s ears. He scanned the darkness for the things his imagination conjured lurking beyond the light. The walls were made of huge stone blocks, fit tightly together without a hint of mortar. Tessyn¡¯s torch gasped and nearly went out.


    ¡°Wait,¡± Adellus said and stopped to rifle through his bag. ¡°I¡¯ll light the lantern with your torch before it goes out.¡±


    ¡°Good idea.¡± Tessyn extended the brand toward him, but her eyes remained locked on the darkness ahead.


    Adellus removed a bit of cloth from his bag and dangled it over the torch till it lit, then shoved it into the lantern globe atop the wick. It soon produced a strong, steady light, and he tossed the rag to the ground, using a boot to extinguish it. ¡°Guess there isn¡¯t much chance of it starting a fire,¡± he said, directing a nervous chuckle at the cold stones, then fixed his gaze on the darkness ahead and took a deep breath. He took the lead and resumed the descent.


    When it seemed the stairs would continue forever, they came to a small, circular landing where they huddled at the center as if the walls were about to collapse. Breath misted from their cowls in the cold damp air and goosebumps skittered across Grevail¡¯s skin. The same red and black floor tiles sparkled even more here than they had above, like stars in the night sky. A square tunnel bore into the stone ahead and above the entrance, a plaque glowed dully in the lamplight.


    ¡°Is that gold?¡± Raela asked.


    Adellus walked to it cautiously, then popped onto his toes and brought his face close. ¡°Looks like bronze to me.¡± He swept a hand over the face, coaxing a thick cloud of dust into the air. ¡°An owl?¡±


    Carved into the shining bronze surface, the round eyes of an owl looked back at them as if surprised, or¡­eager for company.


    ¡°Well?¡± Tessyn said, moving the torch around the room. ¡°We¡¯re not stopping here are we?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± Grevail said. Breakers claimed owls meant something to the Emberfolk, and nobody knew more about Emberfolk than Dawnbreakers or Conveyors.


    ¡°Me either,¡± Adellus said and took a step forward as if Grevail had challenged him.


    Entering the tunnel in a tight knot, they found it to continue for some time, straight and unchanged. The stone remained undecorated, but very well built, and when Grevail ran a hand along the wall, he could not tell where the blocks joined. If he closed his eyes, he might think it were all one piece. Tessyn¡¯s torch fluttered and then the flame vanished altogether. She cursed and tossed it to the ground.


    ¡°I wonder how big this place is,¡± Raela wondered.


    Adellus held the lantern at arm¡¯s length, fending off the darkness. ¡°Huge, I¡¯d say¡­for how long we¡¯ve been walking. There has to be secret passages and rooms in here.¡±


    As if the words were a foretelling, two doorways materialized in the lamplight, intersecting the tunnel ahead. Adellus crept forward and stuck the lantern into one of the gaping black holes in the stone. The same floor tiles and wall stone disappeared into blackness.


    ¡°Which way?¡± Grevail asked.


    ¡°This one?¡± Adellus suggested, swinging the lantern at the tunnel on the right.


    Tessyn grimaced at the tunnel mouth. ¡°Why?¡±


    Adellus shrugged. ¡°Why not? I¡¯m going this way.¡±


    ¡°Why do you get to decide?¡± Raela asked.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got the lantern. Feel free to go your own way,¡± he quipped over his shoulder as he slunk into the entrance.


    Raela muttered under her breath, staring at his back. ¡°You¡¯re going to get us all killed and¡­¡±


    Keeping on Adellus¡¯ heels, Grevail didn¡¯t hear what else she said, but only moments later the tunnel ended in a rectangle of inky black. There was no hint of what lay beyond but a few paces of floor.


    Adellus turned to give them an uneasy look.


    ¡°Well, Dell,¡± Raela said. ¡°You¡¯ve got the lantern.¡±


    Adellus frowned at her, then faced forward again, swallowing. After a moment of staring into the blackness, he took a hesitant step forward.


    Inside, the light revealed a circular room twenty or so paces across. Perpendicular niches were carved into the back wall, one atop the other like a bookshelf. Placed on these shelves were many strange, egg-shaped objects, about as long as Grevail¡¯s forearm and as wide as his head. Dark black in color, they reflected the light, as if polished.


    ¡°What are they?¡± Raela asked as they shuffled in a tight cluster to the center of the room.


    Adellus held the lantern over his head and craned his neck to search the ceiling, just a few paces above. ¡°Eggs?¡± He lowered the lantern to the shelves, illuminating a huge black spider on the cusp of a shelf. The spider extended long, twitching legs into the air as if it was about to leap.


    Adellus flinched, almost dropping the lamp. ¡°Ashes, it¡¯s bigger than my¡ª¡±


    As if disturbed by the movement, the spider skittered down the wall toward their feet. Adellus leapt clear with a coarse shout while Raela emitted a panicked squeal and threw herself from the creature¡¯s path. The spider cut a jagged line across the floor between Grevail and Tessyn in its escape.


    Adellus whirled to stare after it, then, sure it was gone, shook with a nervous chuckle. ¡°That was close¡­I hate spiders.¡± He turned the lantern toward the shelves again, and as he did, his elbow clipped one of the egg-shaped jars. Teetering back and forth, it flopped over and rolled into the air, then hit the ground with a crack, splitting in two. One half rolled away and a torrent of bright coins spilled across the floor after it in a cascade of clinking of metal.


    Adellus¡¯ unbelieving eyes met Grevail¡¯s for a moment before he dove at the pile and plunged his hands into the coins. He removed one and held it in front of his face. ¡°Ashes,¡± he cursed, voice heavy with disappointment. ¡°It¡¯s bronze too. Bronze? Who puts a bronze coin in a tomb? These are supposed to be gold!¡± he growled, tossing the coin to the floor.


    Grevail knelt to grab one. A small hole pierced the middle and sharp angular symbols of some kind ran along the outer edge. Bouncing it on his palm he discovered it was very light, and looking at the edge, very thin. ¡°Gaston would still want them, might be worth a lot to a collector.¡±


    The realization that they may still be valuable swept over Adellus¡¯ face. He wasted no time scooping them into his bag. ¡°Better than nothing,¡± he said, and went for another handful, but then slowed, gaze wandering to the remaining eggs on the shelves. ¡°I wonder what else might be in these?¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± Tessyn said, eyeing the egg-like containers with him. ¡°Those might have been bronze, but the others¡­¡±


    With excited murmurs, they dashed to the niches. Tessyn brushed one from a shelf and it hit the ground with a thud, but unlike the other, remained intact. She frowned at it and snatched a different egg.


    Raela put one between her thighs, and twisted at it, biting her lip from the effort. With a loud sucking sound as if it had been sealed, half of it came away in her hands. ¡°It¡¯s two pieces! Pull at the top!¡± She turned it over and a deluge of green beads scattered at her feet. She cursed and set about gathering them up. ¡°Might be worth something too!¡±


    ¡°Open up,¡± Adellus groaned, prying at an egg. It split with a po,p and emitting a gleeful chortle, he upended the container into his hand. A dark stone figurine of a man slid into his palm. He frowned at the thing. ¡°A collector would want this¡­whatever it is,¡± he said as if reassuring himself and shoved it into his bag.


    Grevail grabbed one of the egg-like containers from the shelf too. It was smooth, like porcelain, and when he squinted he could see a nearly imperceptible line where it came apart. It was a distinct egg-shape, though the bottom was flat. He twisted the top off and upended it. A giant green emerald between two strands of silver chain clattered to the ground and twirled across the floor.


    Tessyn gasped, clutching an egg to her chest. ¡°Grevail!¡± she breathed.


    Adellus laughed. ¡°We¡¯re rich! Hightown here we come!¡±


    Raela emptied another and a horde of rings bounced across the floor, glittering in the lantern light. Emeralds, diamonds, silver and gold. Raela fell to her knees, frozen in disbelief, though it lasted only a moment before she set about sweeping them into her bag.


    Giggling like a child, Adellus popped the top off another egg and turned it over. A belt buckle encrusted in giant red rubies slid out onto the ground. He shared an incredulous look with them, shaking from fits of silent laughter. ¡°Grevail¡­you¡¯re a genius!¡±


    Grevail knelt and grabbed the jar Tessyn knocked from the shelf earlier. Twisting off the top, he dumped it out on his knee. A silver figurine of a chair came out, or more accurately, a throne with a high back. It was small enough to fit in the palm of his hand, but heavy. Gold patterns shrouded the silver like the fanciful swirls they had seen on the stones around the mosaics, while diamonds embedded into the surface sparkled in the lantern light.


    ¡°Ashes,¡± Raela said, staring at what Grevail held. ¡°That alone has to be worth a fortune!¡±


    Tessyn tore her wide eyes from Grevail and yanked the top off yet another egg. ¡°Give me some gold!¡± she said wishfully and upended it. They all watched as a black ball of sludge appeared at the lip of her container, then slipped out and flattened on the ground with a sharp slap.


    ¡°Aghhh¡­¡± Adellus said and threw a hand over his nose. ¡°What is that?¡±


    Raela fanned the air in front of her face. ¡°Tessyn!¡±


    Tessyn stared at the sludge, wrinkling her nose. ¡°What? How could I know that was in there?¡±


    Grevail exhaled as his nostrils filled with an overpowering, pungent odor. ¡°Let¡¯s get these open and see what¡¯s worth taking.¡±


    They made sure to check every strange container, taking each from the shelf and emptying them. Statues, jewelry, bronze cups, even a pair of very large and strange looking shoes. It all went inside now brimming bags, along with things they couldn¡¯t identify. Gaston would know what they were, and more importantly, how much they were worth. When they finished, the shells lay scattered around the room at their feet.


    ¡°Well,¡± Raela said and hoisted her bag over a shoulder. ¡°This will have us set for a while.¡± She slipped Grevail a begrudging grin.


    ¡°A while?¡± Adellus said in disbelief. ¡°I¡¯ll never have to think about coin again.¡±


    Grevail smiled at them. ¡°See? I told you it would be easy.¡± He had, if only to convince them to come, but even he would¡¯ve never dreamt it to be this easy. ¡°We¡¯re not done yet, we¡¯ve still got to get out of here.¡± He struggled into motion toward the doorway, heavy bag thumping against his back with every stride. Adellus took the lead again, rucksack in one hand, lantern in the other.


    They returned to the hallway and Raela started back the way they had come, but Adellus paused at the intersection. ¡°Let¡¯s go this way,¡± he said and pointed his lantern in the direction they were headed before the detour. He nodded at the tunnel adjacent to the egg-room. ¡°We¡¯ll go down this on the way back.¡± He paused as a thought came over him and an eager grin sprang onto his face. ¡°There might be even more rooms down that way!¡±


    Raela frowned at him and resettled the sack on her shoulder with a grunt. ¡°Why? We¡¯ve got all we can carry. We have more than enough to leave Lowtown¡­that¡¯s what we wanted. There are Keepers outside, if you¡¯ve forgotten¡­we still need to get out of here.¡±


    Grevail turned to the darkness waiting beyond Adellus. ¡°But what else could be down here?¡±


    An excited glint entered Adellus¡¯ eyes. ¡°We could find something even better! Gold coins!¡± He marched down the hallway, motioning for them to follow.


    Tessyn chuckled and walked after him. ¡°We¡¯ll be fine Raela. Those Thava won¡¯t be up till dawn with all the drink they¡¯ve had¡ªand how can we pass this up? After all your reading about adventure, I¡¯m surprised you don¡¯t want to experience any of it.¡±


    Raela shook her head at Grevail as he started after Tessyn. ¡°You¡¯ve all got heads full of ash¡­if this gets us caught¡­¡± she said to his back, but after a moment, her footsteps echoed behind him.


    This tunnel went on for much longer, though still the hallway remained unchanged, until Grevail began to wonder if perhaps they should turn back. After some time, it dipped into a shallow slope and the air became even colder. Just as he was about to voice his concerns, Adellus came to a sudden halt. The end of the tunnel had materialized at the edge of the lantern light.


    The eagerness they expressed earlier had disappeared, replaced by an uneasy silence. They exchanged worried looks, though said nothing, and their gazes returned to the black beyond the lantern. Adellus jerked forward, as if forcing himself to move and Grevail did the same at his shoulder. He probed the darkness for any hint of movement¡ªstrained his ears for any whisper of noise.

 Sarcophagus

    The hallway opened into a cavernous space. Adellus swung the lantern first this way, then the other, as if he could ward off an attacker with it. In the wild strobes of light, Grevail saw a human form, then another, and another. We¡¯re surrounded! He threw his arms over his head with a shout. Moments passed with his heartbeat thrumming in his ears, but when nothing happened, he lowered his hands. They were surrounded he saw, but the people were made of stone. Statues ringed the room, about twice as tall as he was. They were soldiers, wearing huge slabs of armor that covered their entires bodies, like nothing he¡¯d ever seen before. Helmets obscured the faces, while huge gauntleted hands rested atop hilts of swords buried into the floor at their feet.


    Adellus looked over his shoulder at Grevail with a sheepish grin. ¡°You¡¯re not scared of a statue, are you?¡±


    A sarcophagus sat on a dais in the center of the room, atop more of the red and black floor tiles. Metal capped the top of the sarcophagus, embossed in symbols and what looked like words, but in a language Grevail did not recognize. The head of an owl, shining beneath a thick layer of dust, jutted up from one end of the casket while a pair of metal wings were folded against the sides. Just before the sarcophagus, a square object sat on a slim pedestal. Grevail¡¯s eyes followed the walls upward to see that they stretched into darkness.


    Adellus crept toward the sarcophagus, every footstep a thunderclap in the stone chamber. Grevail shook off his awe and joined him.


    ¡°They must have been tall,¡± Raela said, nodding toward the sarcophagus. She set her bag on the floor and spun to take in the rest of the room.


    Grevail studied the casket. It was unusually long. He supposed whoever was in it would have been very, very tall¡ª-several hands taller than himself. He turned his attention to the pedestal. A small cube sat atop it¡ªlines of shiny metal arcing mutedly under a coating of dust.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Adellus asked. ¡°A die?¡±


    Tessyn snorted. ¡°Thinking about gambling, even now.¡±


    Grevail bent to blow on it and sent a cloud of dirt cascading to the floor.


    Adellus hovered over the pedestal beside him, a greedy smile splitting his face. ¡°That¡¯s gold.¡±


    The cube was little bigger than a fist and made of a dark, nearly black metal. Detailed gold scroll-work ran around the edges and swirled in the corners. In the middle of each side there was a circular recess of what looked like glass. An odd, slanted triangle was etched onto the glass, and behind it, a faint pale blue light seemed to pulse.


    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± Raela remarked.


    Tessyn, pacing around the statues behind them, paused to look up at one. ¡°There are holes in the wall. A bunch of holes.¡± She fingered the sword in a statue¡¯s hands.


    Adellus did not turn his attention from the cube. ¡°That could probably buy us Amphid¡¯s whole palace.¡± He raised his eyes to the dais, tucking curly brown hair behind an ear. ¡°And that casket has to have something in it too¡­maybe some more of those eggs.¡±


    ¡°I think a body is in it,¡± Tessyn said.


    Raela¡¯s disgusted scoff echoed. ¡°You are not suggesting¡­¡±


    ¡°Whoever is in there won¡¯t mind if we just take a look.¡± Adellus stepped onto the dais and circled the owl head, tall as he was and just as wide. ¡°Bronze again,¡± he said, shaking his head. ¡°Shame it isn¡¯t gold.¡± He pointed at the wings. ¡°These must weigh as much as a horse. The Emberfolk sure loved bronze¡­and owls. I wish instead it was gold and¡­owls made of gold.¡±


    ¡°Not that we¡¯d ever get that out of here if it were,¡± Raela said.


    Grevail studied the sarcophagus for moment, but his eyes soon came back to the cube, wondering what it could be. It looked expensive. He stretched a hand toward it and thought his fingers became warm as they neared¡­and the blue light seemed to pulse faster. He paused. My head has more cobwebs than this whole tomb.


    ¡°How did I know that I¡¯d find you here?¡±


    Grevail spun, dropping his bag to the floor with a thud.


    Xylen stood in the entrance, illuminated by a source of light behind him, a smug grin on his face. His blond hair glowed around his head and a purple merit sparkled in his ear. A man beside Xylen who possessed muscular arms covered in tattoos, gripped a sword at his belt as if ready to draw. The muscular man swept lank and dark hair from his eyes to get a better look at Grevail. The light behind Xylen moved and a woman peeked around the big man, lantern swinging in her hand.


    ¡°Xylen?¡± Grevail said in disbelief.


    Xylen¡¯s smile deepened. ¡°You¡¯re not the only one with knowledgeable friends, Grevail. I can think of only one who would have sent you here. Still listening to that old fool Gaston?¡±


    ¡°Why are you here?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve come for that,¡± he said, pointing to the cube behind Grevail.


    ¡°We found it first,¡± Tessyn growled.


    Xylen laughed. ¡°I suppose you did¡­but I don¡¯t care. Give it up, or my friend here will deal with you,¡± He jerked his head toward the big man.


    ¡°Xylen,¡± Raela pleaded, ¡°we were friends, once. You can¡¯t¡ª¡±


    The big man drew his sword in a rasp of metal. ¡°Drop your bags and lay on the ground.¡±


    Adellus stepped off the dais, raising a cautious hand. ¡°Easy, friend. No need for that. Let¡¯s talk about this¡­there is treasure enough for all us. I¡¯ve got food in this bag here, we can sit down and have¡ª¡±


    The swordman rushed forward and launched a foot into Adellus¡¯ stomach, who doubled over with a wheeze, then collapsed to his knees, sucking in air through his teeth. He shot the big man a glare through the hair spilling over his face.


    ¡°Get on the ground!¡± the big man commanded.


    ¡°Alright¡­alright,¡± Grevail said while lowering himself to the floor beside the pillar. Tessyn dropped her bag and sat with her back against the sword of a statue, glaring at Xylen. Raela scowled at the swordsman and knelt beside Adellus, placing a hand on his shoulder.


    ¡°Don¡¯t move,¡± the man said. ¡°If I see you reaching for anything, you won¡¯t live to regret it.¡±


    Xylen sauntered across the room with an arrogant smirk, stopping beside the pillar and Grevail. ¡°You never could see the obvious, Grevail. The way you bumbled in here¡­I thought you¡¯d ruin it. Finally, the Keepers leave after two days in this miserable swamp¡­and then I see you of all people climbing over the wall. Did you really think you¡¯d be alone? There are thieves who specialize in this kind of thing, you know. I¡¯m surprised Gaston didn¡¯t tell you, but why would he, you¡¯re only worthless mudrats to him. If I didn¡¯t know any better, I¡¯d say he¡¯s trying to get you killed.¡±


    ¡°Do you care?¡± Raela spat.


    Xylen¡¯s smirk deepened. ¡°No¡­not at all. I only wish he would have thrown your lives away earlier, then I¡¯d consider it a service. Eph¡¯s blade might have went uncleaned tonight.¡±


    ¡°Afraid to do it yourself, Xylen?¡± Grevail asked.


    Xylen shrugged. ¡°I could, we both know that. I always had the upper hand whenever we found ourselves in a fight, Grevail. But why would I? I¡¯ve got people to do it for me now.¡±


    ¡°Is your head really that big?¡± Tessyn asked, glaring at Xylen and Eph as if it could kill.


    A smug scoff flew from Xylen¡¯s lips. ¡°While you¡¯ve been crawling around in the mud, I¡¯ve been building a future, Tessyn. I asked you to join me, but you refused¡­I wonder if you regret it now.¡± Xylen stared at Grevail, an odd look in his eyes. ¡°Remember how we used to dream about leaving Lowtown, Grevail? You may have given that dream up, but I haven¡¯t. You are still swiping the purses of shopkeeps and going hungry most nights, aren¡¯t you? Not me. I¡¯ve moved up in the world.¡±


    Grevail stared at him, unable to believe his own ears. ¡°I¡¯ve heard about what you¡¯ve been up to, Xylen. What is wrong with you? Aeson will burn Lowtown to the ground, and you with it, or haven¡¯t you heard?¡±


    Xylen laughed. ¡°Of course I¡¯ve heard. Perhaps it is better that Aeson destroys Lowtown, it doesn¡¯t matter to me. I no longer call that place home like you do. If I must deal with Aeson, then I will, just as I dealt with Amphid¡¯s nephew when he became a little too arrogant for his own good. The little twit thought that he was untouchable because of who his father is, but we all know that isn¡¯t true now. Once I have that relic, not even Amphid himself will worry me.¡±


    Grevail frowned, glancing at the cube. ¡°You think this thing is worth that much?¡± Shaking his head, he returned his eyes to Xylen. ¡°You¡¯ve doomed everyone in Lowtown.¡±


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Xylen offered a blank, uncaring stare in response. ¡°That doesn¡¯t concern me.¡± Their eyes clashed through motes of dust until Xylen released a long breath with a dismissive wave of his hand. ¡°Well, that¡¯s enough catching up. We really should be on our way.¡± He glanced down at the cube and a sinister glint crept into his eyes. ¡°We can¡¯t leave behind loose tongues¡­or those bags of yours. Eph?¡±


    ¡°Xylen!¡± Raela screamed.


    Grevail¡¯s knife pressed against his breast, where it was tucked away inside his coat, but it would be little use against a sword. Eph raised his weapon and stalked toward Adellus and Raela.


    Xylen seemed to realize what Grevail was thinking and snickered, hand disappearing inside his own coat where Grevail assumed a blade must be. ¡°You¡¯ll always be a mudrat, Grevail, for what little time you have left.¡± He snatched the cube from the pedestal. A metal click hung in the air.


    The room filled with a shriek, as if a thousand hawks swept from the sky at once, and dust flew on a rush of air that came from every direction. Grevail covered his head as the ring of metal sprang into his ears¡ªa thousand hammer blows in the space of seconds. A clatter reverberated, as if someone had dropped a bundle of sticks on the ground, and then, only silence.


    Grevail cracked an eye, surprised to find Xylen¡¯s legs still beside him, motionless. A drop of blood plopped wetly to the floor, then another, until it became a river of bright red. Xylen teetered on unsteadily and fell backward, thudding to the ground. Grevail scrambled to his knees, coughing on the dust hanging in the air. Arrows pin-cushioned Xylen¡¯s body from the waist up.


    Eph gasped and scraped on the floor in a pool of blood, leaving dark trails behind the desperate movements of his limbs. The woman lay nearby, shafts protruding from her body like a porcupine¡¯s quills and the lantern she¡¯d been carrying was broken and flickering beside her. Small arrows, the length of only a hand littered the floor.


    Panicked, Grevail searched through the dust for his friends. He found Adellus and Raela, huddled together and staring back at him with wide eyes. Tessyn still sat with her back against a statue, hand pressed over her mouth as if suppressing a scream.


    Eph emitted a long, tortured breath and went still.


    ¡°Ashen embers!¡± Raela said and scraped herself off the floor. Her eyes swept the room as if expecting another volley.


    ¡°The holes¡­¡± Tessyn said.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got to get out of here!¡± Raela breathed.


    The cube lay beside Xylen¡¯s mauled body where a stream of glistening blood extended toward it like a tentacle. Grevail grabbed it.


    His vision filled with color. Swirling, slashing motes of light cascaded over his eyes and saturated his mind. Then came darkness, and silence, just as abruptly as the colors had come. Whispers approached¡­indistinguishable chatter, like a slow wind moving through a canopy. Soft voices, like silk rubbed together, yet they continued to become ever louder until they were ripping screams.


    A man¡¯s face consumed his thoughts. There was something so strange and unnatural about him. His head was too long¡ªhis eyes too big and far apart. His skin was sickly, veiny, and an ugly gray. Clever white eyes burrowed into Grevail¡¯s soul, ripping a vicious path of carnage in pursuit of something. The man¡¯s mouth opened and he loosed a thunderous shout, as if it came from a hundred throats at once. Then, like a candle snuffed, he was gone.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here,¡± Tessyn said, rising on unsteady feet. She launched herself at the exit with her bag over a shoulder, hopping over the growing puddles of blood seeping from the corpses.


    Adellus hauled his bag up with him as he stood. He turned to follow Tessyn but paused, twisting to look at the sarcophagus. ¡°What about the casket?¡± The casket, owl head and wings were dented and rough after the battering of arrows. A few shafts had buried themselves in the coffin itself.


    Raela stood and brushed the dust from her face. Her eyes lingered on Xylen¡¯s corpse before she tore them away with a scowl for Adellus. ¡°The casket?¡± she spat and hurried toward the door. ¡°We¡¯re not touching anything else in here!¡±


    ¡°Are you alright, Grevail?¡± Adellus asked as he turned for the door himself, lantern held in front of him.


    Grevail pushed what he¡¯d just seen from his mind and stood, sparing a glance at the cube in his hand. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he said, and snatched his bag off the floor.


    They left the room to find Tessyn and Raela waiting just outside for Adellus to take the lead. They kept in a tight ball back down the long corridor. Adellus maintained a slow pace, and even stopped at the tunnel they had not explored until Raela pulled him away with a few curses. The more they retraced their steps, the more an unspoken urgency seemed to propel them along faster, and by the time they returned to the stairs they were at a run. Scampering up the last steps they found the dome just as they left it, glass mosaics still glittering in the light from Adellus¡¯ lantern.


    Grevail hurried to the doorway before the others and peeked outside. Rain continued to pour around the Thavan¡¯s tent. The fire had gone out and a glowing lantern now sat beside the smoldering remains, rain plinking off the metal. Grevail cursed. He exchanged worried looks with the others.


    There isn¡¯t anything to do about it now. He waved at his friends to follow and slid out of the doorway. Squeezing himself against the dome, he headed toward the wall they climbed over. The items in his bag shifted and a clang sounded, muffled by the burlap.


    A shadow stepped from behind the tent. Grevail froze.


    ¡°Noz, look here,¡± a man¡¯s voice said and the shadow stepped forward into the lamplight, hoisting a black robe above the water. Dark blond hair slithered from his cowl to the jaw where a goatee bristled on his chin. Brown eyes narrowed at Grevail.


    Another much bigger shadow appeared behind the robed figure. It came forward, materializing into a giant man clutching a knife. The blade caught the light, dripping a blood red. Grevail looked to the tent where the Keepers had slept and spotted dark splotches on the walls.


    ¡°What is in your hand?¡± the robed man asked.


    Surprised, Grevail looked down at the cube clenched in his fist.


    ¡°Give it to me,¡± the robed man said.


    Grevail remained motionless. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.


    The man named Noz marched forward, each thudding step erupting a splash of water. A sword hung from his belt and he wore a leather vest that glinted wetly in the moonlight, like his hairless scalp. Grevail¡¯s gaze traveled upward for what seemed an eternity until it reached the man¡¯s sneering face. He wanted to run but his legs would not move.


    The man¡¯s monstrous hand shot forward, grabbing a handful of Grevail¡¯s hair and jerking him to his feet. Noz thrust the knife under his nose. ¡°He told you to give it.¡± The giant grunted in an odd accent.


    Smelling the metallic stench of blood on the knife, Grevail extended his fist. ¡°Here¡­take it.¡±


    The robed man¡¯s cold eyes sank to the sack in Grevail¡¯s hand. ¡°The bags¡­drop them.¡±


    Grevail let it slip from his fingers and heard his friends do the same.


    The robed man¡¯s lips curled in a smirk. ¡°You are not who we saw earlier. Your friends, the other three, where¡ª¡±


    A guttural shout ripped from the darkness beyond the dome, like the lonesome moonlight howl of a wolf, but vaguely human.


    The robed man¡¯s brows drew down and he turned to the open east gate, a wide gap in the wall beyond which the noise originated. Grevail twisted his head in Noz¡¯ grip, wincing as his hair pulled taught. The blackness beyond the reach of the lanterns remained still.


    Adellus thrust a finger into the rain, eyes wide. ¡°What¡¯s that!¡±


    Beyond the east gate, shapes crept toward them, like ghostly apparitions in the night. The forms cloaked in darkness drew closer. They were rough human shapes, but even at a distance, there was something unnatural about them¡­something wrong. Another shout pierced the darkness. It was a man¡¯s voice, but there was something wrong with it too. It sounded¡­feral and grotesque. A shiver down Grevail¡¯s spine.


    Noz¡¯ eyes widened and he shoved Grevail away from him. Dropping the knife, he drew the sword at his waist in a flash of metal. The big man leveled the blade at the three creatures which slunk out of the night, eyes gleaming. Though Grevail had never seen one in the flesh, he¡¯d heard them described a thousand times over. Esh.


    A male, its skin scaly and gray, shouted again. Crooked black teeth flashed in chomping jaws and a string of drool hung suspended from his mouth. A length of wispy brown hair clung wetly to his head, while white eyes as if bleached by the sun searched them like a rabid dog.


    Beside him was a female, her skin just as scaly and thick as his was. Strands of gray hair hung from her scabbed scalp, and one of her breasts was missing¡ªa jagged scar in its place. Beside her, another female, whose relatively smooth skin compared to the others glistened in the rain. Faded black eyes looked back at Grevail with no less aggression and patchy blond hair topped her head.


    In a flash, the male Esh bounded forward at Noz with a snarl. The tall man cursed and warded off the creature with a wild thrust of his blade. The beast lurched to a stop and screamed¡ªa horribly tortured, barely-human sound. A gob of spittle flew from the its lips and Noz dodged away as if it had struck at him. The big man¡¯s eyes went from wide with fear to narrowed in concentration and he began moving his sword rhythmically, back and forth, like a viper waiting to strike.


    Grevail watched enraptured, unable to move or look away, until a series of splashing footsteps brought his head around. A shape collided with him, taking him to the ground. The robed man pinned him to the ground, straddling him. Grevail stared at him in shock. ¡°What are you doing? They¡¯ll kill us both!¡±


    ¡°Give it to me!¡± the man said, clawing at Grevail¡¯s hand around the cube. Noz and the male Esh still circled each other nearby.


    Another howl shattered the night, and the robed man froze in his assault. The old female Esh¡¯ bleached eyes were focused on the cube Grevail hugged to his chest. She cocked her head to the side, a furrow arcing over her brow. A growl formed in the creature¡¯s throat. It grew into a searing screech and she sprang forward through the rain on all fours, running like a dog straight at them. The robed man abandoned his attempts at seizing the cube and rolled away. Wiping at the water in his eyes, Grevail hurried to stand, fumbling for the knife in his coat. The Esh galloped forward, snarling and baring black, twisted teeth.


    With a shrill scream, Adellus jumped between Grevail and the Esh, swinging his lantern in a looping arc. It left his hand and flew through the air, striking the beast¡¯s face with the sound of breaking glass. A gout of yellow flame exploded in a ball around her head, pushing back the night. The creature screamed, a ringing shriek so loud Grevail shielded his ears. The Esh spun in circles, swatting at her head, then turned and ran into the dark swamp like a chaotic candle.


    The younger female Esh hesitated and cowered, hissing at Adellus. In a moment of shock, Grevail realized she looked afraid.


    The male Esh and Noz still circled each other, neither taking their gaze from the other. Noz sprang forward, slicing at the beast¡¯s midsection but the Esh leapt away, avoiding the strike by a hair. The Esh made short barking noises, as if challenging his opponent.


    Grevail pulled himself out of his stupor and pointed to the western wall. ¡°Go!¡±


    Raela needed little encouragement and bolted past him. Grevail crawled into a run right behind her, Adellus and Tessyn on his heels. Launching themselves at the wall, they tumbled over in a mass of bodies, racing to their feet on the other side.


    ¡°NOZ! KILL THEM!¡± came a furious bellow from the dome.


    Adellus and Raela scurried ahead of him, and he trudged along after, casting a look over his shoulder at Tessyn. She stumbled but kept on¡ªher face twisted in fear. A jagged bolt of lightning lit a sky filled with angry black clouds.


    After sprinting across the muddy, barren lake bed, Adellus and Raela reached the sheer bank first and helped each other climb onto the shore. Adellus helped pulled Grevail up and he lay for a moment in the cold, wet reeds to catch his breath as Tessyn was hauled up.


    In front of the dome, Noz and the male Esh still circled each other, mere shadows in the courtyard. The Esh swiped at the tall man but he dodged, sword flashing in response, but it found only air as the Esh ducked away with a snarl.


    The semi-human shout of the remaining female Esh cut through the rain, but closer, somewhere just below them in the dark lake bed. He and his friends exchanged alarmed looks and then darted into the tangle of twisted marsh trees and tall grass.


    Grevail took the lead and moved with careful feet, searching for solid ground among patches of water that could be a hand deep or over his head. He shot frequent glances over his shoulder, but no more shouts followed after them, nor any lanterns through the thick rain.


    In a panic, they raced onward into the darkness, stumbling through puddles and covering much of the distance on hands and knees. At one point, Grevail had shouldered through a bush into a shallow pool on the other side when his foot caught a rock. He tumbled forward onto his face in a deluge of water.


    Raela grabbed him by the arm. ¡°Get up!¡±


    ¡°Ash and embers!¡± Tessyn cursed. ¡°Esh!¡±


    ¡°My rucksack!¡± Adellus groaned, tripping toward them in the ankle-deep water. ¡°We¡¯ve got to go back and get it.¡± His eyes sunk to their hands. ¡°None of you grabbed yours!¡±


    Grevail realized he left his bag in the courtyard, filled with the treasure and the little food they¡¯d brought. With a curse he pushed himself to his feet.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t like we had time to think about it, Dell!¡± Tessyn said, wiping at the mud streaked across her face.


    ¡°I was saving Grevail¡¯s life! What were you doing?¡± Adellus turned back toward the dome.


    ¡°You¡¯ll do no such thing, Adellus!¡± Raela snapped and grabbed the tail of his cloak. ¡°We¡¯re leaving!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve still got this,¡± Grevail said, raising the cube. Ashes, let it be worth something. ¡°We can¡¯t go back Adellus. You know we can¡¯t.¡± He trudged onward, searching in the downpour for the trail they followed in, if it hadn¡¯t washed away after all this rain. Every rustle of a tree branch in the wind was enough to send his heart into his throat. If he hadn¡¯t seen those creatures with his own eyes, he wouldn¡¯t have believed it.


    ¡°Those things are supposed to be children¡¯s tales, high up in the mountains,¡± Adellus whispered, wading through a tuft of reeds. He shot a glance behind them toward the dome, as if he still wanted to go back for the treasure even after what they¡¯d seen. ¡°What are the chances I¡¯d finally see one, tonight of all nights.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve read every book I can find on them.¡± Raela¡¯s voice trembled. ¡°Did any of you get any of their spit or blood on you?¡±


    Grevail paused to look at his friends but they all shook their heads. Esh were stories used to scare sprouts, or so he¡¯d thought. Mothers told children they would turn into an Esh if they lied or stole. There were tales of entire villages disappearing overnight, the inhabitants going mad before they turned on each other. It was said Esh lived for centuries and formed cities of their own in the wilderness, or so the stories went. Stories no longer. He wondered if other Stricken were real too.


    He tried to push the treasure from his mind. ¡°Gaston will give us something for this,¡± he said, looking down at the cube in his hand. ¡°Whatever it is.¡±

 Emberstone

    I grabbed the door handle and pushed. I was in Lowtown, in front of my shack, but it wasn¡¯t my shack. I felt like it was, but I knew that it wasn¡¯t. I wanted to turn around but my legs continued forward. I tried to look down at myself, but my vision scanned the room. It was bigger than my shack. Rows of shelves lined one wall above a bench. On that bench sat a young woman.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting all day,¡± the woman said, a grimace twisting her lips. Dark frizzy hair balled around her head like an extension of her skull and blue eyes regarded me cooly.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± I asked. It wasn¡¯t my voice, but a familiar voice.


    The woman stood with a bright smile. ¡°That doesn¡¯t concern you.¡± She dug at her belt and I tensed, resisting the urge to grab the knife in the top of my boot. ¡°I¡¯ve come to give you this.¡± She produced a folded slip of paper. The scent of lemon perfume filled my nose as I reached to grab it from her.


    ¡°Don¡¯t tell anyone what is in this letter. I¡¯d hate to kill such a pretty young man because he couldn¡¯t keep his mouth shut,¡± she said with another smile and brushed past me through the door.


    Emotion roiled in my head, but glimpsed fitfully, like a gnat hovering at the edge of my vision. Fear? Anxiety? I studied the letter and walked to the bench. Unfolding the parchment revealed a few lines of cursive script.


    ¡°I have an important task. You know what is owed to me, sibling,¡±¡­the letter began.


    It wasn¡¯t signed, but I knew who it was. Her face appeared in my thoughts, but not her name.


    Grevail¡¯s eyes rose from the letter. His own shack surrounded him now. The fire-pit sat cold and empty before him, between the bunks in which they¡¯d spent so many nights listening to Raela read.


    ¡°What are you reading?¡± a voice said beside him. Grevail turned to find Raela, staring at him with a foreboding frown.


    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± he asked, relieved that his voice was his own. He looked at the paper in his hands, now blank as the day it was made. The voice from before tickled at his memory, like a star twinkling in the endless night sky of his mind.


    ¡°Xylen!¡± Grevail shouted, bolting upright. He clapped a hand to his head in a futile attempt to quell the horrible throbbing he found there.


    Raela sat a few paces away, bewildered emerald eyes watching him. Her features softened. ¡°It wasn¡¯t your fault, Grevail.¡±


    The thought of himself with Xylen¡¯s voice sent a shiver down his spine. He pictured Xylen¡¯s body bleeding on the tomb floor and shook his head to dispel it. He would have killed us, Grevail reminded himself. He would have.


    Early morning light scattered through the little copse of trees, bathing the newly green grass on which they made camp. None of them found much sleep since the tomb. The long walks that began at sunrise made it no easier and today would be no different. They¡¯d traveled two nights from the tomb, fearing Noz and the other man would catch up.


    ¡°I was about to wake you two up,¡± Raela said, rubbing at the bags beneath her eyes¡ªher hair a disheveled pile atop her head. Tessyn shifted under her cloak, then sat up with a groan. Raela¡¯s sleepy gaze ran Grevail over from his head to his toes. ¡°Adellus went looking for food. I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll be successful.¡± Her face tightened in concern. ¡°Are you alright?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine¡­just had a bad dream. My head is hurting like I had a few too many at Maedra¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°What do you think Gaston will give us for it?¡± Raela said, nodding at the cube where it lay between his legs. ¡°It better be a lot for what we¡¯ve gone through.¡± The circular glass recesses still glowed a pale blue behind the odd triangle, even in the morning light. ¡°I hope it was worth it,¡± she murmured.


    ¡°It has to be worth something.¡± His thoughts drifted back to the necklace and little throne he remembered stuffing into his rucksack that night in the tomb. ¡°I wonder if our bags are still out there.¡±


    Raela drew her eyebrows down at him. ¡°We nearly died, Grevail. Xylen did die. Not to mention those two men who killed the Keepers and¡­Esh. That¡¯s enough for me. I¡¯d expect this out of Adellus¡­but you?¡± She pinned him with a stare that brooked no argument. ¡°That¡¯s enough for all of us. Esh!¡±


    ¡°We were so close. We had a fortune¡­¡±


    ¡°Have you lost your mind?¡± Her tone was barren of sarcasm. Grevail¡¯s stomach shrank from the insinuation¡ªthe man¡¯s face he glimpsed in the tomb still fresh in his mind. The night they escaped, wandering in the dark through the marsh, he told himself it was from the stress of everything that had happened. He¡¯d heard all kinds of rumors about relics, but nothing like what he experienced. There had been no other hallucinations, though he still flinched whenever he touched the relic. When it turns to gold in my hand, I won¡¯t even remember it happened, he assured himself.


    ¡°It¡¯s too late now,¡± Tessyn said. ¡°We have what we have. I¡¯m not walking another day for the rest of my life after this.¡±


    Raela bobbed her head and directed an approving smile at Tessyn.


    Tessyn¡¯s pretty features soured into a scowl at Raela¡¯s approval. Her piercing honey-brown eyes dropped to the relic and then rose to Grevail. ¡°Don¡¯t forget what Xylen said about Gaston, Grevail. He sent us knowing others would show up. He had to have known.¡±


    Raela grunted her agreement and turned her attention back to the relic. ¡°We should decide what to do with it.¡±


    Grevail couldn¡¯t forget what Xylen said, even if Tessyn didn¡¯t remind him daily. ¡°We can¡¯t be sure he was telling the truth¡­and anyway¡­what else can we do with it?¡±


    ¡°We could sell it to a Breaker,¡± Tessyn suggested.


    Grevail shook his head. ¡°A Lowtown Breaker? For what? A few ess?¡±


    ¡°The gold itself has to be worth a few hundred.¡± Tessyn rolled her eyes.


    Grevail groaned. ¡°A few hundred? Who in Lowtown has that? Even if they did, why should we settle for that when Gaston said we could get a thousand for it?¡±


    Raela inhaled sharply, like she always did when she was about to stop them from fighting. ¡°I should have never let you talk us into this, Grevail¡­but at least we have something¡­and none of us died.¡±


    Grevail dropped his eyes to the relic. It glittered, dotted with morning dew like the grass around it. ¡°With any luck, the Thava will blame it on Xylen¡­or those other two. We have to take it to Gaston.¡±


    ¡°Should we come with you?¡± Raela asked.


    Grevail twisted his lips. ¡°Gaston isn¡¯t the type to be cracking my skull when I walk through his door, if that was his plan in the first place.¡± It was hard to imagine Gaston doing such a thing, but the more his friends questioned the man¡¯s motives, the more Grevail did too.


    ¡°Maybe he¡¯ll have someone else do it?¡± Tessyn asked in a voice so sweet it gave Grevail a stomach ache.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be careful,¡± he said after a moment¡¯s thought. ¡°Besides, can we trust what Xylen said? He wanted to drum us up so we¡¯d leave the cube without a fight. If we want good money for this thing, Gaston is our only bet.¡± Tessyn and Raela remained silent, but they knew like he did, Gaston was the only way they¡¯d get anything close to what it was worth.


    ¡°We won¡¯t find someone to buy it out here,¡± Grevail said, frowning at the trees around the clearing. ¡°Let¡¯s get moving.¡± He grabbed the cube and stood, wincing at his aching body¡¯s protests. He squeezed the relic into his trouser pocket where it created a noticeable bulge. His stomach growled, sucking at his spine for nourishment. Tessyn and Raela rose too and together walked from the clearing toward the road through fat oak trunks.


    Once out of the copse, they found Adellus standing at the roadside, spattered with dried mud like they all were. He tossed a coin above his head and snatched it from the air.


    Tessyn eyed his fist. ¡°You didn¡¯t leave empty handed, I see.¡±


    Adellus scoffed and held one of the thin bronze coins from the tomb by the edge. He ran his thumb along the weird angular symbols stamped into the perimeter. ¡°Not that this is worth anything¡­ashen bronze. Found it in my pocket, but I don¡¯t remember putting it in there.¡±


    Grevail sighed at the disappointment in his voice. ¡°I can take it to Gaston, might be worth something.¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯ll keep it,¡± Adellus said, grimacing. ¡°At most it¡¯s only worth a mug of cheap ale anyway.¡± He tucked the coin into his pocket with a shake of his head. ¡°Ready? We can get back before dark if we hurry.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m ready,¡± Tessyn grumbled with a hand over her stomach.


    As they set off, Grevail found that even after just a short while his feet and calves ached as if they¡¯d never stopped. After the rain, the countryside was a bright and cheery green, but it did little to improve his spirit, especially with the uncertainty of this cube looming in his thoughts. He still couldn¡¯t believe Esh were real. To think that all the stories he discounted over the years could have been true the whole time.


    A few farmer¡¯s wagons creaked by toward the capital, but not many travelers shared the morning with them. Grevail and his friends hid well into the vegetation at the roadside until they disappeared from view anyway. Even a lowly farmer would be another set of lips to tell someone where they¡¯d been.


    As the parent¡¯s dipped toward the horizon, the towering walls of Eudan finally rose over the treetops. Grevail smiled at the ramparts piercing the sunset and his friends picked up their pace, relief pushing the misery from their faces. A steady flow of pedestrians and carts still streamed across the Kanarkand bridge and into the city. Two watchmen stood on either side of the gate, accompanied by a pair of Khossoroi in blue and white gambesons.


    ¡°I¡¯m walking straight to Maedra¡¯s¡­and then I¡¯m sitting¡­sitting for a long while. I want a mug and a meal,¡± Adellus said as they marched across the bridge, eyeing the crowd as if an Esh were hiding among them.


    Grevail scanned the crowd too, wondering what they¡¯d say if told Esh were only a few days south¡­if they didn¡¯t just laugh in his face. He gave a rueful toss of his head. Never thought I¡¯d be the one with fantastical tales of stricken.


    ¡°I¡¯m coming with you,¡± Tessyn said to Adellus, rubbing at her back. ¡°I could use a wash too, even if it means spending the last of what little I¡¯ve got.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m headed to Gaston right away,¡± Grevail said.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Raela¡¯s concerned eyes swept to him. ¡°Be careful¡­and remember what we said earlier. You know him better than we do but keep your eyes open. The watch too¡­if they catch you with that¡­¡±


    ¡°I will be,¡± he assured her. ¡°We¡¯ll have fifty ess at least, if not more.¡± A watchman might not know what the cube was, though it would no doubt draw their interest, especially if such a thing were in his possession. Grevail paused as a thought crossed his mind. He regarded Tessyn and Adellus, eyebrows flattening. ¡°I know how you two can be when you¡¯re at Maedra¡¯s¡­keep your mouths shut.¡±


    ¡°Oh please, Grevail,¡± Adellus said. ¡°Do you think I¡¯d go around telling everyone I¡¯ve seen what they think are children¡¯s tales? The whole place would be hanging on my every word, buying me drinks for every detail. I wouldn¡¯t want that! Not after sleeping on the ground for days and crawling through mud.¡±


    ¡°I mean it,¡± Grevail said. ¡°Stop messing around. If the¡­¡± he lowered his voice, ¡°they¡¯ll be looking for us. Keep it quiet.¡±


    ¡°They won¡¯t be looking in Maedra¡¯s.¡± Adellus sighed and spread his hands. ¡°Only trying to lighten the mood¡­after we lost¡­¡± he trailed off, studying his feet, then exhaled and met Grevail¡¯s eyes. ¡°I won¡¯t say a word¡­I promise.¡±


    Grevail clapped him on the arm. ¡°I know, Dell. We¡¯ll have something.¡±


    The four of them joined the crowd flowing under the portcullis and the Khossoroi watched them pass like leaves in a stream.


    After a few additional reminders for him to be careful, his friends went north toward the Lowtown gate, while he turned toward Merchant Row. The docks were roiling with activity at this time of day. Vessels from the marsh, sitting low in the water from the weight of their cargo, crowded the river¡¯s edge. Further out in the choppy water of the Kanarkand white sails dotted the river. He thought of returning to the shack to grab his cap. He never liked being in Hightown with his merit on display for all to see but decided to press on. It was better to get it over with, and the longer he walked around with this thing in his pocket, the more likely he¡¯d attract a watchman¡¯s interest. The headache plaguing him since the tomb still throbbed against his forehead.


    He meandered through busy streets noisy with hawker¡¯s calls until they faded away and the tall stone buildings of Hightown rose around him. He kept a keen eye out for the watch, worrying that his aching legs would be in no condition to outrun them today. The obvious bulge the relic created in his pocket felt hot. He cursed himself for not tucking it into his belt, or anywhere less conspicuous. Instead, he kept a hand over it whenever someone flung an undesirable gaze at the merit in his ear or the mud on his clothes.


    Fortunately, he went through Hightown without spotting a single watchman. Well-to-do residents raised their noses as he passed and kept a grip on their purses, but he was grateful for only that. Gaston¡¯s house rose on the corner ahead and Grevail scurried toward the alley behind it. Entering the back gate, he strode up to the door and gave it three quick raps.


    He waited only a moment before the door opened and Gaston¡¯s head emerged into the late day sun.


    A brief look of surprise popped onto the man¡¯s chubby face, but it vanished in an eager smile. ¡°Come in¡­quickly now before someone sees you,¡± he said and disappeared inside.


    Grevail leaned into the doorway and scanned the hallway. Seeing nobody waiting to club him over the head, he shut the door and slid the bolt closed, then followed Gaston to the room with the big table where thick curtains over the windows permitted only faint light to enter the dim interior.


    ¡°Luck, then? What happened?¡± Gaston asked as he took his usual seat, chair groaning under his weight.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got something for you,¡± Grevail said, casting an eye about the room. Tessyn¡¯s warning repeated in the back of his mind. If someone were hiding in here, it would be hard to spot them crouching behind the shadowy piles of junk stacked all about.


    An excited chuckle shook the fat under Gaston¡¯s chin. ¡°Very good! Let¡¯s have a look at it then.¡± He reached for the green bottle of spirits they shared last time. ¡°A drink? I know it¡¯s a touch early, but hopefully we have something to celebrate! I knew you would succeed where others might fail. Please, sit.¡±


    I knew you would succeed where others might fail. Grevail stared at Gaston¡¯s bald crown as the man gathered the glasses, recalling what Xylen said.


    Gaston raised his head, then an eyebrow when he found Grevail still standing on the other side of the table. His eyes dropped to Grevail¡¯s dirty clothes while he poured. ¡°How was the journey?¡±


    ¡°It was long,¡± Grevail grunted, ¡°¡­and there were more Thava there than you said would be.¡±


    Gaston set the bottle aside and raised his hands. ¡°I only knew what I was told.¡± He offered Grevail a glass.


    Grevail stared down at it. ¡°I¡¯m not thirsty.¡±


    Gaston furrowed his brow. A frown tugged at his lips as he motioned for Grevail to sit. ¡°Very well, you can show me what you have. Please¡­sit.¡±


    Wiggling the cube from his trouser pocket, Grevail passed it to Gaston, just resisting the urge to snatch it back.


    Gaston¡¯s eyebrows scrunched together in apparent confusion. ¡°That¡¯s what you found?¡±


    An impatient tinge touched Grevail¡¯s voice. ¡°What is it worth?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t give an exact amount¡­but¡­¡± Gaston seemed perplexed and sucked at his lip while tracing a finger over the slanted triangle on a glass circle of the relic.


    ¡°Who can you sell it to?¡± Grevail pressed.


    ¡°I have someone in mind.¡± Gaston appeared uneasy with the cube in his hands and shifted in his seat, casting a furtive glance at Grevail.


    ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°My buyer is in Dessos, I¡¯ll have to take it to her.¡±


    Grevail stared at him. ¡°You¡¯ll have to take it to her?¡± Dessos¡­I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll bring our share back quickly. Grevail spun and swept the room with his eyes but nobody had emerged to ambush him. ¡°That wasn¡¯t part of the deal,¡± he said, whirling back to Gaston and jabbing a finger at him as if it were a dagger. ¡°You think you can cut us out! You knew they would be there, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    Gaston backed from the table and into his chair, concern widening his eyes. ¡°Who? What are you talking about?¡±


    ¡°Xylen was there.¡±


    Gaston¡¯s mouth fell open. ¡°Xylen! How?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but he was looking for that cube specifically¡­and he wasn¡¯t the only one. There were another two men. A man who wore a robe and a man named Noz. The place was booby-trapped, Gaston. Xylen died from arrows that shot out of the walls! I saw it. The other two, they killed the Keepers we sneaked past to get inside.¡±


    Gaston¡¯s face morphed from mild disbelief to astounded worry by the time Grevail finished. ¡°This is bad. Very bad,¡± Gaston said and hefted the relic up to his face, staring at it as if it had a secret to tell him.


    ¡°You knew! You knew they¡¯d be there and you sent us anyway! Xylen said thieves like him are always at tombs.¡±


    Gaston shook his head and a hurt look swept over his face. ¡° Xylen? Ask yourself, Grevail, why would I do that? So you could be caught?¡± He leaned on the table and released a haggard breath. ¡°Stop acting a fool. This isn¡¯t good for me¡­or you. They must have known it was there¡­but how, even my insider didn¡¯t. Only a Conveyor might have information like that. With dead Keepers laying about, the Thava will be flipping over rocks looking for anything Emberfolk like a spade digging roots.¡± He shot Grevail an angry glare and motioned for him to sit. ¡°If you want a way out of this perhaps you should sit and listen to what I have to say.¡±


    ¡°A way out of what?¡±


    Gaston¡¯s eyes acquired an intense focus as they centered on Grevail. ¡°Did the killers see that stone in your ear? The Thava are sure to notice Xylen¡¯s merit when they find his body, if they don¡¯t already know him by name, but a short description to the watch and they will know it. There is only one place they¡¯ll go hunting four young people like you and your friends. Do they know your names? What other clues did you leave behind for them to follow? If you want to take that chance, you can do so, the relic is yours, but if I were you I¡¯d be on my way somewhere else as quickly as my feet could take me. There will be many eyes searching for this thing, that much is certain.¡±


    The gravity of what Gaston said pushed Grevail into his chair. Somehow, he hadn¡¯t thought of that. The Thava would know right where he was, and if those killers caught a glimpse of a merit, so would they. He couldn¡¯t remember if he or his friends had let anything slip when they encountered Noz and the other man. He tried to think of what they stuffed into their bags before leaving. Bags that were now likely being searched by a Thavan at this very moment. ¡°What should we do?¡±


    ¡°Emberstones, they call them.¡± Gaston turned the cube in his hands, inspecting one side after another, but Grevail knew they were all the same. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen one with my own eyes before, but they¡¯ve been described to me many times.¡±


    ¡°Emberstones¡­¡± The word felt uncomfortable and foreign in Grevail¡¯s mouth.


    ¡°The Dawnbreakers believe that the Emberfolk fled Voxetta because of the Stricken, using these stones to do what no one has done since and pass through the storms at sea.¡± Gaston waggled his head as if he found it hard to believe. ¡°Of course, as I¡¯m sure you¡¯re aware, the Thava think Otash and Seren turned the Emberfolk to Stricken as punishment for their misdeeds, as if the Long Dark wasn¡¯t enough. A good reason to keep any remaining artifacts of the Emberfolk from Dawnbreaker hands,¡± Gaston said, then sighed, ¡°or mine.¡± He leveled his gaze at Grevail. ¡°They are worth a fortune to the right person. I would have told you that earlier had you let me.¡±


    ¡°You can sell it in Dessos?¡± He watched the relic in Gaston¡¯s hands, refusing to think about the man he saw in the vision or whatever it was, especially after what he¡¯d just heard.


    Gaston shrugged and spread his hands. ¡°I could find a buyer here in Eudan¡­eventually¡­not that I¡¯d want to with what I know now. We¡¯d get a lot for it, but not as much as


    she¡¯d pay. She¡¯s wealthy, the kind of person to whom a few thousand ess is a pittance. She only seeks the rarest items and has the money to get them.¡±


    ¡°Why did you tell me it was worth anything?¡±


    ¡°I could have told you it was worthless,¡± Gaston said, cocking his head to the side and pursing his lips. He looked down at the cube. ¡°I could have done that and taken it to Dessos myself, earning a huge profit. But I like you Grevail and I want to help you. It¡¯s only fair. You took the risk to get it¡­and¡­I wouldn¡¯t do that.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Gaston.¡± Grevail hung his head, and not just from the shame of accusing Gaston on only Xylen¡¯s worthless word. A surging pressure came to the forefront of his skull and he clenched his jaw until it passed. Ashen headache.


    Gaston shrugged and returned his attention to the cube, rubbing a hand over what little hair he had left. ¡°I understand now why you are so on edge. I thought you might find a few trinkets, even those can fetch a fair price, maybe one of those figurines that Breakers like to collect, but this¡­¡± He paused and a questioning look entered his eyes. ¡°Did anything else happen?¡±


    ¡°There were Esh¡­three of them¡­they attacked us.¡±


    Gaston clutched the cube to his chest and pushed himself from the table, chair screeching on the floor. ¡°Ashes! Esh? They didn¡¯t get anything on you did they?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s been three days.¡± Raela detailed the effects: a musky odor, violent acts and thoughts, a limitless hunger for meat. He was hungry enough to eat all the meat in the world, but he hadn¡¯t felt any different otherwise. Raela said Esh lived together in the woods. Grevail shuddered at the thought of a community of those things lurking in the wilderness.


    Gaston watched him as if he wasn¡¯t so sure as Grevail seemed to be, but still resettled at the table. ¡°Bury my spirit. Esh? It must be worse than¡­it must have been terrifying. Esh don¡¯t wander in threes¡­had to be a raid¡­a nearby colony.¡± Gaston appeared lost in thought and spent a few moments staring at the air in front of him before bringing his attention back to Grevail. ¡°You¡¯ll go with me to Dessos? I shouldn¡¯t have to convince you why it would be in your best interest. Aeson, the Thava, those killers, Xylen¡­all of them looking for what you have here. Even if you rid yourself of it, they¡¯ll still be looking for you¡­well, maybe not Xylen.¡± Gaston set the relic on the table with a thunk. ¡°So?¡±


    Grevail studied the big man¡¯s face. All he had to do was convince his friends to come along, not that they had much choice with the mess he¡¯d landed them in. They¡¯d go to Dessos and sell the cube, then skip into the sunset with more gold than they ever dreamed of, leaving all of this behind as a distant memory. After what they went through to get the thing, how could they not continue? The hard part was already over. ¡°My friends come too.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Gaston said as if that were obvious and passed the cube to Grevail. ¡°We must leave quickly and get it out of the city. I have preparations to make. Ready your friends and we¡¯ll meet at the bridge gate tomorrow before dawn. I¡¯ll have horses for all of you. Four, correct?¡±


    Grevail recovered from a moment of surprise and nodded. ¡°Yes¡­four.¡±


    Gaston produced two fat purses from under the table and tossed them to Grevail. ¡°Fifty ess, as I promised. Consider it a down payment for everything that happened out there. Get some rest, food, and equipment for the trip.¡±


    Grevail hefted the purses, shock stilling his tongue, then rose and stuffed the cube into his belt. Gaston herded him toward the door.


    ¡°Be careful on the way home. Any watchman catches you with that and you¡¯ll never see any of us again, not even your friends. I¡¯ll take care of the supplies we will need along the way. Just make sure to be there. Keep quiet tonight¡­lay low. Not a word to anyone,¡± Gaston said, then bade him farewell.


    Grevail left through the gate to find dusk had settled over the town. As he returned to Lowtown, he thought of how to break the news to his friends. Any scenario he played out in his mind, none ended well, though the purses Gaston gave him would soften the blow. As he left Hightown, the tall stone buildings were replaced by the modest merchant houses of The Scales, and those too soon faded into the quickening darkness as he crossed into Lowtown. When he turned onto his street and his shack came into view, only then did he release the breath he¡¯d been holding since stepping out of Gaston¡¯s door.


    ¡°Grevail!¡±


    He whirled to see a surprising but familiar face. ¡°Makhe?¡± Grevail asked.


    The young man stopped a few paces away. Light brown eyes looked Grevail up and down and a yellow merit sparkled in his ear. ¡°Sleeping rough?¡±


    ¡°Not yet.¡±


    Makhe raised an eyebrow. ¡°Listen, I wanted to talk to you,¡± he said, then tuned his voice to a whisper, ¡°about Xylen. I heard you were back in town.¡± He ran a hand over his short black hair as if nervous. ¡°It¡¯s important. You haven¡¯t seen him have you?¡±


    Grevail felt like he¡¯d swallowed a stone. ¡°No¡­I haven¡¯t seen him,¡± he began, perhaps too quick. Back in town. Ashes. He¡¯d put his money on Dell having the big mouth. ¡°You should know we don¡¯t get along if you are spending time with him.¡±


    Makhe took a few hesitant steps closer. ¡°I do know, but I thought you might have heard something. You were friends once, a while ago. You might know things about him nobody else would.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°I think Xylen got himself into trouble with someone.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s new?¡± Grevail muttered.


    ¡°Grevail, this is serious. He left a few nights ago.¡± Makhe¡¯s head spun and his gaze darted between the shacks around them. He looked even more anxious than Grevail felt with the relic in his belt, pressing against his stomach.


    ¡°To where?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. He only said he was headed south¡­into the swamp.¡±


    ¡°So what do you think happened?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. You swear you haven¡¯t heard anything?¡±


    ¡°No, I haven¡¯t.¡±


    Makhe watched him for a long moment before he spoke. ¡°That isn¡¯t the only reason I¡¯ve come. A man was asking about you¡­and Xylen.¡± Makhe¡¯s eyes again darted into the darkness, as if he expected that man to step out of the shadows.


    Grevail drew down his brows. ¡°Who? What did he want?¡±


    ¡°He didn¡¯t say, but he described you perfectly¡­right down to the color of your merit. He wanted to know where you were.¡±


    ¡°What did he look like?¡±


    ¡°Older fellow. Grey hair, dark eyes¡­average looking, really. He was here in Lowtown but he didn¡¯t seem to belong here if you know what I mean. He acted like he ran the place, though. I¡¯ve never seen him before and he didn¡¯t have a merit in his ear.¡±


    Grevail chewed his lip and rifled through his memory for any hint of who the man could be. The description didn¡¯t sound like either of the two men from the tomb. ¡°What did you tell him?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t tell outsiders anything, you know that.¡± Makhe said. ¡°But there was something about him¡­¡± Makhe paused and shook his head again, as if dispelling a thought from his mind. ¡°I just thought you¡¯d want to know. You¡¯d tell me right? If you knew anything?¡±


    Grevail nodded. ¡°I would.¡±


    ¡°I just think it¡¯s weird,¡± Makhe said, eyes narrowing. ¡°Xylen goes missing, then this man appears asking about the both of you. Xylen went to the marsh and you left town around the same time. Now, here you are, a few days later with mud all over your clothes. Struck me as strange is all, but if you say you don¡¯t know anything¡­¡± Makhe gave him a piercing look and spun away, walking back the way he had come.


    Grevail watched him sink into the dark, twisting streets of Lowtown. The numerous paths and niches around him suddenly held invisible eyes, their owners crouching in the darkness, waiting for him to turn his back. He did turn, clutching the hilt of the knife in his coat and expecting forms to spring from their hiding places to confront him. He hurried down the narrow path toward his shack. The painted lanterns hanging outside his neighbor¡¯s homes swung in a slight breeze, casting dim yellowed light across the street.


    He stopped at his door and knocked. ¡°It¡¯s me!¡±

 Jumping At Shadows

    ¡°Where is he?¡± Adellus asked as he peered around a mossy stone column of the Merchant Row gate.


    The night sky would brighten soon and they¡¯d spent hours awaiting Gaston near the bridge. Four cloaked travelers piled high with rucksacks might draw attention, though only a handful of people wandered the cold morning streets.


    ¡°He¡¯ll be here soon.¡± Grevail¡¯s eyes strayed toward the Epikhos¡¯ Khossoroi on guard near the gatehouse. The unusual absence of watchmen at the gates made him wary, yet at the same time, grateful. The Khossoroi would let a thousand people pass and not lift a finger¡­unless a watchman or Amphid gave them reason.


    There was no sign of anyone he considered suspicious when he collected Tessyn and Adellus from Maedra¡¯s the night before. Perhaps Lowtown was too rough for whoever Makhe mentioned. In any case, once they were out of the city there was little chance anyone would find them.


    Huddling inside his cloak, Grevail restrained a yawn as goosebumps cascaded over his body in a slow wave. The faint throbbing in his temple mimicked a hangover, just like yesterday, and the smell of spoiled wine filled his nose. The acrid sweet stench followed him since he awoke, but when asked, nobody else could smell it. He thought someone, probably Dell, spilled a drink on the shirt he donned this morning. When this is all over I¡¯ll have a few drinks for sure.


    Tessyn corralled a yawn of her own, brushing aside a sliver of dark blond hair dipping from her cowl with a finger. ¡°I¡¯m surprised Gaston is willing to leave his house.¡±


    Adellus chuckled. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen him outside before.¡± He turned from the gate and leaned against the city wall, looking up to the crenelated top. ¡°Dessos, can you believe it? I wonder if my father is still there.¡±


    Grevail adjusted his wool cap and tucked his hands into his armpits, fending off the mild cold. ¡°Will you pay him a visit?¡±


    Adellus laughed again, but this time it was tainted with a hint of anger. His eyes sank from the night sky to Grevail. ¡°Maybe once we get our pay. I¡¯d like to show him the bastard he disowned made something of himself.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to prove anything to him, Dell,¡± Raela said and moved to wrap an arm around him, resting her head on his shoulder. ¡°We are your family.¡±


    Adellus sprouted a grateful smile. ¡°I left a long time ago. We probably wouldn¡¯t even recognize each other¡­if he¡¯s even alive.¡± His demeanor turned pensive. ¡°I hope he is, just so I can show him how wrong he was.¡±


    Tessyn cleared her throat. ¡°What are we doing after we get the money?¡±


    ¡°I want to see Point Rivella,¡± Adellus said, cracking another smile.


    ¡°Me too,¡± Raela seconded. ¡°I¡¯ve brought all the books I couldn¡¯t leave behind. I have a few we will find useful if we go there.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind,¡± Grevail said. He used to dream of visiting all the places drunken merchants boasted about over tavern tables in The Scales. ¡°We could go wherever we want.¡±


    Tessyn emitted a cynical snort for Grevail¡¯s optimism. ¡°Well, it hasn¡¯t happened yet. For all we know, Gaston could cheat us.¡±


    A frown turned Raela¡¯s lips at the mention of that. Though it had been difficult to convince her to leave everything behind, after he explained Gaston¡¯s reasoning, she agreed. He couldn¡¯t fault her hesitation, especially after all that had happened. Just a short while, he told her, and they¡¯d be rich enough to do whatever they wanted.


    Tessyn¡¯s arms crossed over her slim chest. ¡°I find it hard to believe he really cares about us no matter what he said.¡±


    Rubbing his chin between the clumps of brown curls spilling from his hood, Adellus jerked his head at Grevail. ¡°Grevail knows him best and he believes him.¡±


    ¡°Sure, Gaston said all that when he got caught.¡± Tessyn¡¯s words were bathed in admonishing tones, as if they all should know better. ¡°And of course Grevail believes him, but do you, Dell? Do you think he really cares about us? Mudrats? If what Gaston said was true, why would he want this¡­thing within arm¡¯s reach? Why would he take the risk? He¡¯s already rich, isn¡¯t he? He¡¯s got something up his sleeve if you ask me. A lot more profit to be had if he didn¡¯t have to split it five ways.¡±


    ¡°I believe him, Tessyn,¡± Grevail said, ¡°not Xylen. He can¡¯t overpower all four of us, let alone one. There isn¡¯t any reason for him to lie about what he told me.¡±


    Tessyn studied him with a stubbornness in her eyes as if she intended to continue the argument, but then dropped her hands with a sigh. ¡°We should be careful anyway. If it is worth what he says¡­¡±


    Grevail hurried to murmur agreement, relieved to see some of her suspicion fade. ¡°It¡¯s a long trip, we have to stick together.¡± The last thing he needed was for Tessyn to turn against the plan now. When he told her how much the cube could be worth, she nearly jumped for the door in her eagerness to be off, but this morning her reservations about Gaston¡¯s motives returned. He tried to lighten the mood. ¡°Adellus will have to show us around Dessos.¡±


    A small smile spread Raela¡¯s lips. ¡°The great port and northern most city in Eudan. Colla is from there¡­the lady with the boat tattoo on her neck. She goes on and on about how beautiful it is. The seven fingers, she says, you¡¯ve got to see them at least once in your life!¡±


    Grevail grinned. ¡°You¡¯ll be wearing a fur cap and carrying a long knife in your belt?¡±


    Tessyn rolled her eyes.


    The clop of hooves on cobblestone announced Gaston¡¯s arrival and he rode beneath the arch astride a large gray draft horse. He wore a black vest over a purple shirt, both straining around his bulk. His legs, dangling from his mount, fit tightly in dark trousers like sausages. He still wore the many rings and necklaces he usually did, in fact, Grevail thought he was wearing even more. He looked much different when not in a robe with his chest hair exposed as Grevail was accustomed to seeing him. The round man smiled. ¡°Good morning.¡±


    ¡°Good morning, Gaston,¡± Raela returned.


    ¡°Ahh, Raela! I nearly forgot how lovely you are. A golden ray of sunshine you are, dear. My memory isn¡¯t what it used to be, but is that Tessyn over there hiding in her hood? Its been years since I last saw you.¡±


    Tessyn retreated further into her cowl with a murmur.


    ¡°You said we¡¯d have horses?¡± Adellus turned from Gaston to peer around the wall again, as if he expected the mounts to be following.


    Gaston snickered. ¡°No need to worry. They are at a stable just south of the city¡ªmy neighbors complained about the smell you see. You¡¯ll have to walk there. I only have two, but I¡¯ll buy another pair. You can refund me in Dessos. Don¡¯t give me that look, Adellus, it isn¡¯t far.¡±


    ¡°I hope so,¡± Adellus said with a grim chuckle. ¡°I¡¯d give up my share if I didn¡¯t have to walk another day.¡±


    Gaston guffawed. ¡°Oh, I doubt that.¡± He leaned forward in the saddle, whispering at Grevail. ¡°I trust you have what we need?¡±


    Grevail nodded.


    ¡°Good,¡± Gaston said, bobbing his head in return. ¡°Let¡¯s be on our way then. We shouldn¡¯t waste any time.¡±


    Gaston kicked his horse into a walk and they followed him toward the bridge gate. The Khossoroi flanking the entrance did not so much as turn their heads as Grevail and his friends approached. They wore crisp and freshly laundered gambesons, checkered in white and blue squares. Blocky helmets atop their heads were shined to a polish, even in the faint light of lanterns spread around the gates. They each wore a sword at their hip¡ªhard and steely as their stoic faces. A strange feeling came over Grevail as they passed through the gate, as if it were a point of no return. He wondered if this would be the last time he ever set foot in the capital.


    Raela may have had similar thoughts. ¡°Well¡­here we go.¡±


    Gaston turned in his saddle to assuage them with a smile. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine, Raela. We¡¯re off on an adventure!¡±


    Gaston led them across the wide stone bridge spanning the Kanarkand. The bobbing lantern of a vessel upstream shone through the darkness¡ªthe rhythmic shouts of a man on-board drifting to them over the water. The river, revitalized by recent rain, would become quite dangerous in the coming days. Even now it roared beneath, filling the air with its scent.


    On the opposite side, the shadowy buildings of a small village were quiet and still, though chimney smoke sent early gray smears across the dark morning sky. Grevail never spent much time at the bridge village, or South Ferry as the residents called it. The people here were as distrustful of those from Lowtown, if not more so, than even a Merchant Row hawker. Gaston whistled as they crossed the bridge, casting a smile over his shoulder. As they neared the end, two figures became visible standing in darkness beyond the light of a lantern pole at the bridgehead.


    Grevail shifted the rucksack on his shoulders, then scoffed at himself. They couldn¡¯t be the men from the tomb. They were both the same height. Jumping at shadows. Anyone was sure to notice the big man, Noz¡­couldn¡¯t miss a fellow of that size. One of the shadows turned at the sound of Gaston¡¯s horse clopping across the stones and stepped into the lamplight. Grevail¡¯s heart sank at the sight of a watchman¡¯s white tunic.


    A flash of recognition crossed Aundan¡¯s face. The man¡¯s thick lips pressed together in a grimace as he drew the club from his belt and darted to the center of the bridge. ¡°Grevail! Where are you going? Running like a coward while you can?¡± he asked, jabbing the cudgel at them.


    Gaston did not rein his mount to stop, so Grevail kept walking too. ¡°Yes, we are leaving.¡±


    Aundan¡¯s eyes lit on his rucksack and widened. ¡°Stop! Stop right there!¡± he ordered and hopped into the path of Gaston¡¯s horse.


    Gaston¡¯s mount halted with a snort. ¡°What is the meaning of this?¡± he demanded.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what the meaning of this is,¡± Aundan said and strode forward till he was nose to nose with Grevail. He put out his hand, palm up. ¡°The bag.¡±


    Grevail averted his eyes. ¡°We are leaving¡­like you wanted. We don¡¯t have anything.¡±


    ¡°Your rucksack,¡± Aundan growled. ¡°I won¡¯t ask again.¡± The other watchman, whom Grevail didn¡¯t recognize, came to stand beside them. The wide fellow with a farmer¡¯s face eyed Grevail and his friends uneasily.


    Sweat popped onto Grevail¡¯s brow and his tongue twisted into knots. He sought an excuse, any excuse, but his stalling only made Aundan grow more agitated. He realized there was no easy way out. Maybe he won¡¯t find it tucked away in the bottom, or know what it is if he does. With an exasperated sigh, he slipped the bag from his shoulders and shoved it into Aundan¡¯s outstretched hand.


    Gaston clambered down from his horse. ¡°What is this about?¡± he asked, waddling over to Aundan and pointing at Grevail¡¯s bag. ¡°We¡¯ve done nothing wrong! You¡¯ll hand over his property and we¡¯ll be on our way!¡± Gaston¡¯s face grew more red with every word.


    Aundan handed the bag to the other watchman. ¡°Elus, search this.¡± Elus stared at the rucksack as if it contained a viper, and looked as if he might refuse, but then gingerly took it from Aundan.


    Aundan¡¯s gaze swung back to Grevail, though he spoke to Gaston. ¡°You¡¯d do well for yourself to stop barking orders, fat man.¡±


    Elus set the bag on the ground beside the lantern pole and began digging through it.


    Gaston moved toward Elus but Aundan slapped a hand on his chest. Undeterred, Gaston¡¯s voice grew louder. ¡°I¡¯ll have a word with Amphid about this! I am a friend to the Epikhos! What is your name?¡±


    ¡°Oh, are you?¡± Aundan looked Gaston over with a mocking sneer. ¡°Good. You can tell Talaen why you are here with a known thief,¡± he said with a nod at Grevail. He turned his gaze on the others. ¡°A thief and his mudrat friends.¡±


    ¡°This is ludicrous!¡± Gaston bellowed and pushed Aundan¡¯s hand from his chest. ¡°Let us be on our way!¡±


    To anyone else, Gaston might have appeared angry, but Grevail saw desperation.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Elus asked and pulled the relic from the bag. The watchman turned it in his hands and the gold swirls at the edges glinted in the light.


    Grevail¡¯s heart thumped against his chest. A surprising anger crept to the front of his mind. I¡¯m not spending the rest of my life in a Thavan prison. These ashen watchmen don¡¯t want us gone, they want us dead! We were leaving, isn¡¯t that what they wanted?


    Aundan turned from Gaston, an expression of confusion twisting his face at the relic in Elus¡¯ hand. ¡°That doesn¡¯t look like the property of a mudrat to me¡­if there is such a thing. Stolen, I¡¯d say.¡± He took the cube from his colleague and inspected it. Abruptly, his eyes widened and a grin crept across his lips. ¡°Emberfolk, even. I knew it. I knew you were up to no good.¡±


    Elus straightened with Grevail¡¯s rucksack and came to stand beside Aundan, looking at the relic as if it were about to explode. ¡°That Thavan told us to look for¡ª¡±


    Aundan silenced him with a glance, then turned a vindictive gaze on Grevail. ¡°I¡¯m placing you¡­¡±


    Grevail watched Aundan¡¯s lips as they began to form the words he knew would come. Will I spend the rest of my life in a cell? Anger consumed him at the thought. He sprang forward and sent a fist hurtling into Aundan¡¯s face. The watchman stumbled back with a grunt, slapping a palm over his nose as Grevail ripped the relic from his hand.


    Elus dropped the rucksack and drew his club, but Grevail¡¯s eyes were drawn to a flash of movement beyond him. A shadow lept from the darkness behind the watchmen¡ªa wicked blade gleaming in the mysterious figure¡¯s hands. Elus¡¯ confused eyes followed Grevail¡¯s toward the approaching form, and the watchman narrowly blocked a sword strike that flashed in the darkness like a bolt of lightning, thwacking into his cudgel and tearing it from his hand. A snarling man with cropped gray hair pirouetted amidst a dark cloak, preparing for another swipe.


    ¡°An ambush!¡± Aundan howled.


    From the night beyond the bridge, another giant form bounded toward them. Striding forward on long legs, it plowed into Aundan¡¯s back, lithe arms wrapping around the watchman. Grevail¡¯s jaw dropped open. Noz growled against Aundan¡¯s shoulder, struggling to contain the watchman¡¯s frantic movements.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    With no time to recover from the shock of what was happening, another figure drew Grevail¡¯s eye. Instead of racing forward, this shadow remained smooth¡­calm. A woman emerged at the bridgehead beyond the flailing watchmen and their attackers, a businesslike expression on her face. Blonde curls spilled from her hood to flank grim, pink lips. A blade appeared in her hand, like a cat ejecting its claws, and her arm whipped forward. The knife somersaulted toward Grevail, flashing as it tumbled through the lantern light. He threw his arms over his face.


    A moment passed, then another with his heartbeat filling his skull. She missed. A wave of relief washed over him, like a bucket of water dumped over his head on a hot day. The scrape of boots on stone mixed with the muffled grunts of the watchmen and their attackers flooded back into his senses. She missed!


    A panicked groan sounded beside him, growing louder the longer it went on. It was the sound of painful recognition, a sound that sent his hackles rising. He lowered his arms to find Gaston looking back at him, pure terror in his eyes. Buried to the hilt in his chest, the woman¡¯s knife moved in unison with his heavy breaths.


    Gaston sank against Grevail, opening his mouth to speak yet only a sickening gurgle emerged, followed by a dark jet of blood that splattered onto the bridge stones. The big man gasped, then toppled forward into the legs of his mount. The horse rolled its eyes with a whinny and charged forward, right at the woman, who dove out of the way.


    ¡°Ashes, run!¡± Tessyn darted past the mysterious gray haired man now grappling with Elus over the sword between them.


    Raela scampered after Tessyn.


    Grevail¡¯s mind whirled. No, not that way! Toward the gates! He snatched up his rucksack and stuffed the relic inside. Slinging it over a shoulder, he sped after his friends.


    ¡°Ashes! Ashes!¡± Adellus cursed on his heels.


    Grevail shot a glance behind. Noz and Aundan struggled with each other near the parapet. One shadow gained the upper hand, upending the other over the side. A blood curdling scream pierced the early morning as they tumbled from view. Shouts erupted from the gatehouse as the Epikhos¡¯ Khossoroi flooded onto the bridge with swords bare¡ªGaston¡¯s lifeless body face down on the stones before them.


    Grevail put everything he had into his aching legs. Adellus drew beside him, head tossed back and brown curls bouncing with every stride. Grevail realized his knife was in his hand, but he didn¡¯t remember taking it from his coat. As they raced down the main street of South Ferry, faces popped into windows and doorways.


    Something slammed into his back so hard it sent him stumbling. Grevail chanced a look over his shoulder to find a man only paces behind, bushy beard pressed flat against his chest and growling like a dog. Further behind still, a rider burst onto the road, kicking their mount into a gallop. A whistling shriek zipped through the air, and then another. Grevail realized they were arrows just as a shaft buried itself in the road ahead. Shouts from the bridge echoed after them.


    An old man still in his nightgown stumbled into the doorway of a nearby building and thrust a lantern at them. ¡°What¡¯s happened?¡± he called out as they sped by.


    A woman¡¯s face emerged from a curtained window on the second story above him. ¡°The watch! We need the watch!¡± she screamed loud enough to wake the whole village. Bodies spilled from buildings like a hive of hornets incensed by an intruder.


    ¡°He¡¯s trying to kill us!¡± Adellus yelled, voice cracking.


    The bearded man¡¯s heavy breaths licked at Grevail¡¯s heels like flames and the pounding hooves of the rider grew louder, gaining with every moment. Raela and Tessyn were near thirty paces ahead, rucksacks wiggling as they ran. If he and Adellus could lure the pursuers away they might have a chance to escape.


    ¡°You there! Stop!¡± A large man surged into the street ahead. The burly fellow took a wide stance and lowered his bald head, steeling himself for a charge. ¡°Stop!¡± he shouted, barring the way with heavily muscled arms. ¡°Stop now!¡±


    With little other choice, Adellus and Grevail both slid to a stop paces from the big man¡¯s blockade.


    The bearded man slowed and stopped too. Gulping down air, his dark eyes bored into the villagers gathering around them. The mysterious hooded horseman reined their mount to a walk and wove through the bewildered townsfolk flowing into the street, halting beside the bearded man. The rider, a woman with her face buried deep in a cowl, slipped a bow across her back.


    ¡°What¡¯s happening here?¡± the burly man grumbled, eyeing first Grevail, then the bearded man.


    ¡°He¡¯s trying to kill us!¡± Adellus squealed, just as the bearded man shouted, ¡°they stole my merchandise! Lowtown rogues they are!¡±


    Adellus turned to face the bearded man. ¡°He¡¯s lying! We stole nothing!¡±


    The bearded man swept graying hair from his face and spit on the ground. He searched Adellus with a burning, obvious hatred. He pointed at Grevail, stroking the unkempt salt and pepper beard hanging down his chest. ¡°That one there, he¡¯s got my merchandise in his bag. Lowtown thief!¡±


    ¡°Is that true? Did you steal from him?¡± the burly man asked. His eyes narrowed at Grevail¡¯s cap, widened when they fell to his rucksack, then bulged at the knife in his hand. ¡°We¡¯ve had enough of you mudrats sneaking out of the city at night to steal from us, you can be sure of that!¡± The man slapped a meaty fist into his hand, as if to emphasize his point. A ring on his finger held an opal in the shape of a water drop, a manifest of Aurin, which meant he could be Sacar¡ªa follower of the Thavan Accord. If so, the man would likely drag Grevail and Adellus both to the Thava if he saw the relic.


    ¡°We didn¡¯t steal anything from him,¡± Grevail said, slipping the knife into his coat and raising his hands. They were surrounded by a solid wall of villagers now and yet more poured from buildings, ringing them in. ¡°They killed my friend! We¡¯re not from Lowtown!¡± Grevail scanned the crowd for Tessyn and Raela. He hoped they didn¡¯t get it in their heads to attempt a rescue. Wiping sweaty palms on his chest, he spun in a circle, warding off the encroaching villagers.


    ¡°You villagers understand!¡± shouted the bearded man. ¡°They are from Lowtown! Would you take their word over mine? Look at them! They know they are caught!¡± The bearded man and his mounted companion pressed forward like a pair of wolves closing on a kill. The villagers watched in silence, searching Grevail and Adellus with suspicion.


    The burly man¡¯s gaze once again probed Grevail¡¯s knit wool cap. ¡°Take off your hat if you¡¯re not from Lowtown.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Grevail said, surprised his teeth were not chattering. ¡°I have nothing to hide. I¡¯ve done nothing wrong.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve done nothing, I swear!¡± Adellus said, voice cracking, and thrust a finger at the bearded man. ¡°Look at us? Look at him! That beard belongs on a vagabond from Lowtown!¡± His eyes darted around the wall of villagers as if looking for an escape.


    The burly man appeared unconvinced and came closer. ¡°You want the hard way? We¡¯ll show you mudrats! You don¡¯t come to South Ferry looking to steal!¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t have thieves running loose can we?¡± the bearded man crowed. ¡°I didn¡¯t think that was the kind of place Eudan was! Fetch me their bags!¡±


    The old man in the nightgown broke through the ring of villagers, lantern swinging in his hand. His shriveled and sun-worn face looked to the burly man. ¡°Ulphon¡­Ulphon! What are you doing?¡±


    The burly man stopped and crinkled his thick brow, then gestured toward the bearded man. ¡°Illin, this fellow says these mudrats stole from him.¡±


    Illin¡¯s elderly gray eyes swept from Ulphon¡¯s hulking form to the bearded man, then to Grevail and Adellus, sizing them up. His lips tightened. ¡°We¡¯ll let the Khossoroi decide that. We are civilized folk here in South Ferry, not a mob. You remember what happened last time. The Khossoroi will see this matter justice or there will be no justice at all.¡± Illin directed his gaze over the villager¡¯s heads toward the bridge where a handful of Khossoroi jogged down the road toward them, swords at the ready.


    Ulphon growled in his throat. ¡°How long are we to let these vermin destroy our village, Illin? We have to do something! The watch don¡¯t do anything, even when they catch em¡¯. The jail is packed full! If Amphid won¡¯t deal with it, we will!¡±


    ¡°Not anymore!¡± a woman cried.


    ¡°They¡¯ve stolen from all of us!¡± added an angry man.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been robbed three times!¡± came an irate voice.


    Illin sighed, scratching at the short gray hair ringing the crown of his head. He regarded the villagers with an admonishing frown. ¡°We are all tired of those in the city preying upon us innocent village-folk, but we don¡¯t dispense our own justice. That is for the Epikhos to do.¡± He turned to Ulphon and raised his chin, as if daring the burly man to defy him. ¡°It is what must be done, Ulphon. The watch have warned us once about taking matters into our own hands. I doubt they¡¯ll do it again.¡±


    Ulphon muttered under his breath, eyeing Grevail, but then inclined his head at Illin. ¡°As you say, Illin. As you say¡­¡±


    The bearded man turned from watching the Epikhos¡¯ Khossoroi trot toward them with an incredulous look on his face. ¡°The Khossoroi? What do we need them for? We can have this over right now!¡± The frustration and urgency in his voice increased. ¡°They¡¯re from Lowtown¡­they¡¯ve stolen my things! What more proof do you need? Hurry up!¡±


    Illin¡¯s wrinkled face tightened. ¡°You¡¯ll both wait for the Khossoroi. You can explain it all to the head of the watch.¡±


    ¡°You dimwitted villagers don¡¯t understand?¡± The bearded man marched toward Grevail, pure rage in his eyes. ¡°You¡¯ll give me my property, NOW!¡±


    A tall woman stepped from the crowd to intercept him. ¡°Illin is the voice of reason around here. He¡¯s the village Alder, and his word is what we go by. You can wait for the watch!¡± She was joined by a chorus of angry villagers.


    The bearded man stood toe to toe with her, eyes locked and jaw clenched. The woman met his gaze as if unafraid, but it was the mounted woman with the bow who spoke. ¡°Ailish¡­no,¡± she grunted. Her petulant face, tucked away in her hood, turned to watch the Khossoroi approach.


    Ailish whirled to stare at her, then spun again, searching for Grevail. ¡°Just so you know, mudrat,¡± he began in an ominous voice, ¡°I will see my property back¡­one way or another. Remember that. No matter where you go¡­we¡¯ll find you.¡±


    ¡°If you want it back, you can wait here for the Khossoroi, just like they will.¡± Ulphon said, his words now drenched in suspicion.


    Ailish ignored Ulphon and dashed to the woman¡¯s horse, vaulting into the saddle behind her. The villagers erupted.


    ¡°He was lying!¡± Ulphon shouted.


    ¡°Stop him!¡± Illin yelled. ¡°Hold him for the Khossoroi!¡±


    The woman kicked her mount into the villagers, knocking many to the ground as the horse bolted from the highway. The villagers gave chase, picking up stones from the road to toss at the fleeing riders.


    Adellus elbowed Grevail, tilting his head toward escape. Together they sank into the preoccupied mob. Grevail kept his head down until side by side, they squeezed through the crowd into the open road. To Grevail¡¯s surprise, no shouts called after them. He and Adellus shared an incredulous look and broke into a run.


    Two scurrying forms slipped from the village buildings at the edge of the road and moved to intercept them.


    ¡°We thought you were done for!¡± Tessyn exclaimed.


    ¡°Ashes! Me too!¡± Adellus breathed.


    They ran from the bridge village and didn¡¯t stop running even when the last building disappeared. A patchwork of fields dotted with homesteads filled the brightening horizon.


    Grevail spotted a path branching off the highway and loped onto it. He continued at a jog for as long as he could, but the burning in his lungs eventually brought him to his knees.


    Raela bent over beside him, sucking in air. ¡°Gaston! They killed him!¡±


    ¡°That was the man from the burial! Noz¡­¡± Tessyn said between gasps. She sank to a knee, pulling the hood from her head as if it was choking her.


    Adellus wiped sweat from his brow with a forearm. ¡°Bury my spirit¡­¡±


    ¡°I know¡­I know¡­¡± Grevail said and pushed himself upright. ¡°Come on, before they find us.¡±


    ¡°Grevail, stop,¡± Raela commanded.


    ¡°What, Raela? We¡¯ve got to go!¡±


    She marched forward, boots crunching on the road, and turned him by the shoulders. He felt her tugging on his rucksack.


    ¡°Ashes, Raela, what are you doing?¡± he asked, casting a wary eye toward the highway.


    A pop came from his bag, like pushing a needle through leather, and Raela stepped around to show him the arrow she''d pulled from it. A dark shaft with dark fletchings, and a sharp, deadly-looking head. ¡°You¡¯re lucky you had that on, or you¡¯d be dead,¡± she said, concern mixing with anger in her voice. ¡°Buried almost up to the fletching. Had to be only finger¡¯s width from your skin.¡±


    Grevail felt the blood drain from his face. ¡°We should¡­¡± he began, but waited for his breath to catch up. He realized he didn¡¯t know what they should do, beside get as far away from the bridge as possible.


    Adellus shook his head, directing a curse at the ground. ¡°Where are we going? South?¡± He turned on his heel to study their surroundings, probing every remaining shadow in the early morning as if it contained another attack. ¡°What are we doing?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Grevail hitched the bag on his shoulders with a shudder, imagining what that arrow might have done had he not been wearing it, or had it went a pace higher.


    With an exhausted sigh, Tessyn turned from studying the countryside to face them. ¡°We can¡¯t go back to Eudan.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t,¡± Raela agreed and set her rucksack on the ground to rifle through it.


    ¡°Why not?¡± Adellus asked. He paused, mulling the question, then emitted a groan. ¡°Aundan¡­he¡¯ll have it out for us now. We can¡¯t show our faces in Eudan ever again.¡±


    ¡°I think Aundan might be dead,¡± Grevail said. He thought it was Aundan who screamed going over the bridge. Somehow, he didn¡¯t think a man like Noz was capable of screaming like that. He didn¡¯t like Aundan, but plunging to death from the Kanarkand bridge was a cruel way to die, even for a scoundrel. ¡°If not for those villagers, they would have caught us for sure.¡±


    Tessyn ran a hand through her dirty blond hair, gripping it for a moment as if she wanted to pull it out. ¡°What did they say to you?¡±


    ¡°He said¡­he said he¡¯d get back what we stole from him, one way or another.¡± Ailish. Didn¡¯t look like who Makhe spoke of. How many people are after this relic?


    Raela¡¯s eyes descended on Grevail like red hot embers. ¡°So¡­we can¡¯t go back to Eudan,¡± she said in a tight voice. ¡°Gaston is dead! I trust you don¡¯t know who he wanted to visit in Dessos?¡±


    ¡°No¡­¡± Grevail admitted. ¡°He only said she was rich¡­¡±


    Tessyn scoffed. ¡°Well that really narrows it down in a place like Dessos.¡±


    Grevail wanted to be angry. He wanted to tell Tessyn to be quiet, but anger wouldn¡¯t do him any good right now. He¡¯d gotten them all into this, and he needed a clear head if he was going to get them out. ¡°We have to go south.¡±


    Raela gulped from a water skin and tossed it into her bag. ¡°To where?¡± She hauled the rucksack onto her shoulders and strode up to Grevail, thrusting a finger at his face. ¡°We hardly have any money, Grevail! We¡¯re going to starve! Leave that ashen cube in a field! If they want it, they can find it! They¡¯re going to kill us!¡±


    Grevail shied away and turned his eyes forward, but still felt her anger blazing like a fire beside him. He resumed walking. ¡°We have some money. It will have to do until we can sell the relic. One thing is certain, the further we get from the bridge, the better off we¡¯ll be.¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t throw it away? Even now? You sorry fool!¡± Raela followed at his shoulder like a cat waiting to pounce. ¡°What if they find us again?¡±


    Grevail pressed a hand to his forehead. He couldn¡¯t get Gaston¡¯s face out of his mind, and the pounding in his skull made it all the worse. ¡°We can¡¯t go to Eudan, we shouldn¡¯t even go anywhere near it. We¡¯d have to go north again to reach Dessos. If we go south, we might have a chance to find someone who will buy this thing without the watch or the Thava after us. We¡¯ll make a new life for ourselves somewhere else. That was the plan anyway, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°What will it take? Do they have to kill one of us next? Even Gaston isn¡¯t enough for you? Wasn¡¯t he your friend? Don¡¯t you feel anything?¡± Raela asked.


    Tessyn groaned behind him. ¡°How will we sell it? We don¡¯t even know what it is.¡±


    ¡°Maybe Raela is right, Grevail,¡± Adellus said. ¡°How will we find a Breaker rich enough to buy that thing for what he said it was worth? Ashes, Gaston is dead.¡±


    ¡°Gaston¡­¡± It seemed like a dream, but with every step he took it hardened, becoming real. Gaston was dead. An insidious thought crept into his mind. Is it my fault? He pushed it away. No, Gaston knew what he was getting himself into. There isn¡¯t any way I could have known that would happen. Another dark thought forced itself into his monologue. Didn¡¯t I though? I knew they were still after us¡­and I never told him. ¡°Gaston said it was worth a fortune. I believe him. We can find someone to buy it. Won¡¯t be easy, but there are Dawnbreakers everywhere, not just Eudan.¡±


    ¡°We are leaving it!¡± Raela hissed. ¡°Grevail, you could be dead if that arrow had went a pace higher or a hand deeper. What else would you sacrifice?¡±


    ¡°I never made you do anything, Raela. You want to give it up? After all we¡¯ve been through?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to leave it,¡± Tessyn said, a grimace twisting her lips. ¡°I don¡¯t like what happened to Gaston, but I want my cut from that thing, whatever it is.¡±


    Raela¡¯s eyes ripped into Grevail like claws. She jabbed a finger back toward the city. ¡°We traveled three days from that tomb and they still found us.¡±


    Grevail stopped and met her gaze. ¡°If we tossed it now, do you think they¡¯d leave us alone? I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll stop looking for us, cube or not.¡±


    Raela paused with an open mouth, eyes glittering, then swallowed an angry reply and snapped her jaw closed.


    Grevail turned from her, setting off down the path again. ¡°We need to have a plan. If we can¡¯t come up with something by tomorrow, I¡¯ll get rid of it. I promise.¡±


    Raela cursed at his back. ¡°You selfish, ashen, emberbelly! You just watched him die!¡±


    Her words sent a shiver down his spine, but he kept his own mouth clamped shut. They needed this relic now more than ever. It was worth a fortune to some Breaker, and if they could find them, all of this wouldn¡¯t be for nothing. Gaston won¡¯t have died for nothing. This relic was all they had.


    They traveled on in silence, heads spinning, looking for another ambush around every tree. Crops and cattle were the only witnesses to their journey while the wind brought the smell of manure and hay on the dust of the road. They saw no people, except a young boy shepherding a flock who watched them curiously from the roadside. The farmhouses became more infrequent as the road turned west. When they came again to the highway, Grevail stepped into it expecting Noz or Ailish to be waiting.


    They went south, becoming engulfed by the expansive wilderness of Eudan. Occasionally, a plume of chimney smoke rose on the horizon, but they were few and far between. Whenever they crossed paths with the rare traveler, Grevail and his friends got out of sight until they passed. The parents tumbled to the horizon behind them, with night soon to follow.


    ¡°We can¡¯t go south forever,¡± Adellus said. ¡°Emberfolk relic or not, they won¡¯t like us in Uruca.¡±


    Tessyn donned her cloak, taking it from her rucksack while she walked. ¡°Old Cophen said he was from Tamirra. He loved to say we northerners know nothing about the Urucan.¡±


    Raela shook her head. ¡°We don¡¯t know anything about anywhere but Eudan. I¡¯ve never been much further than this. Adellus is the only one of us who has traveled at all.¡±


    Grevail already felt like a fish out of water. ¡°We could catch a boat, there are small ports in the swamp, but you¡¯re right Dell, we can¡¯t cross into Uruca.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Adellus pondered, rethinking his earlier point. ¡°The war was a long time ago, maybe they aren¡¯t so bad as everybody says.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not find out,¡± Raela said with a toss of her hair. ¡°We¡¯ve already been through enough and I don¡¯t want anyone getting hurt.¡± Her anger at him boiled away during the day but now seemed to resurface. Her eyes twitched toward his rucksack. ¡°We should get rid of it¡­now, Grevail.¡±


    ¡°What was that!¡± Adellus spun around.


    Grevail whirled, reaching for the knife in his coat, though it was precious little protection against a sword or bow. After a moment of searching the highway, he realized it was empty. ¡°What, Dell?¡±


    Adellus shielded his eyes from the late daylight, squinting at the road behind them. ¡°I swear¡­over there by those trees¡­a man on a horse¡­looked like one of those¡­¡± he trailed off.


    ¡°One of those what?¡± Tessyn asked.


    ¡°Don¡¯t start again, Adellus! The weight of you¡­¡± Grevail growled. ¡°Don¡¯t say you¡¯ve seen something unless you¡¯ve actually seen something!¡±


    Adellus frowned. ¡°I saw someone!¡±


    Grevail resumed walking. ¡°A farmer?¡± Still, he shot a glance backward every twenty or so paces. In the road ahead, a narrow stream surrounded by a thick column of trees ran under a small bridge. Grevail motioned at it. ¡°Let¡¯s camp along the stream here? We can fill our skins at least. It isn¡¯t long till dark.¡±


    Without a word, Tessyn angled off the road. She led them through bushes and trunks, weaving this way and that until they came upon a small clearing. She slipped the rucksack from her shoulders and sank to the ground. ¡°Good enough?¡±


    ¡°Good enough,¡± Raela said and tossed her bag to the ground too, collapsing beside it.


    ¡°Should we start a fire?¡± Adellus asked. ¡°I brought some flint¡­just in case.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Raela said. ¡°Especially if nobody wants to see sense.¡±


    Grevail sat and tugged off his boots, rubbing at aching feet. ¡°Not with those people still out there somewhere¡­or anything else. It will draw attention.¡±


    Adellus squatted on his heels with a shake of his head. ¡°Gaston is dead. Who are these people?¡±


    Tessyn sprawled on the ground nearby, using her rucksack as a pillow. ¡°Attacking watchmen at the gates too. Whoever they are, they¡¯re a rough bunch. Breakers, maybe?¡±


    ¡°Gaston didn¡¯t deserve that¡­¡± Raela said, a tremble in her voice. She wiped at her eyes and rolled to face away from them.


    ¡°No, he didn¡¯t,¡± Grevail agreed. He didn¡¯t know what else to say, or if he should say anything. His gaze strayed to Raela¡¯s back. ¡°Tomorrow morning, I¡¯ll find somewhere to hide it. If nothing else, we can come back for it.¡±


    Adellus nodded as if he agreed, but Tessyn tossed her head with a dissatisfied frown. Grevail ground his teeth as he laid down, wrapping himself in his cloak. I¡¯ve got a fortune! I just have to find someone to buy it!


    They descended into silence, broken only by the soft sound of Raela sobbing and the crickets singing as night came. Much later, a wolf¡¯s forlorn howl cascaded over the forest and brought them all to attention.


    ¡°Should someone stay awake?¡± Raela squeaked into the darkness when the echo of the howl faded from the clearing.


    ¡°I think we¡¯ll be alright,¡± Grevail tried to assure her, though he was unsure himself. He didn¡¯t know anything about wolves.


    ¡°What about Noz?¡± Tessyn asked.


    ¡°They won¡¯t find us,¡± Adellus said. ¡°It¡¯s pitch black here and we have no fire.¡±


    ¡°You promise, Grevail?¡± Raela asked. ¡°Tomorrow you¡¯ll leave it behind?¡±


    ¡°I promise.¡± Sleep pulled his eyelids downward, even as he fought to keep them open. ¡°It will all be alright.¡±

 The Rabbit And The Wolf

    Grevail opened his eyes with a groan. How his body ached. It was still early, just after dawn, but the sky had yet to take on much color. He rolled over and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, wincing at yet another headache. Goosebumps sprang onto his skin while he massaged his temple and the sickly sweet smell of spoiled wine still hung in the air too. He cursed. What will it take to get this damn stench out of my nose?


    ¡°Raela¡­Dell¡­¡± the words died in his mouth. Two black leather boots were planted a few a paces away. Tucked into the boots were a tight pair of black trousers, and above that, a blue linen shirt sprouting chest hair between the laces. Finally, his gaze met a bemused face.


    The man sported wavy black hair to his shoulders and a thin mustache. A silver earring dangling over his shoulder was of an axe and dagger, a manifest of Bostra and Ilen. Blue eyes sparkled over a narrow and hooked nose. ¡°Trouble in Eudan?¡± he said in a light, airy voice.


    Grevail scrambled to his feet but one of those black boots slammed hard into his forehead and sent him to his rump.


    The man smiled. ¡°Now, now, Grevail. Do not try to run¡­or draw that knife in your coat. I promise, you will regret it.¡± He patted the sword at his hip for emphasis. The cadence of his voice was odd to Grevail¡¯s ears.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Grevail mumbled, head swimming.


    Before the man could answer, Raela came awake with a shriek that brought Tessyn and Adellus up from their bedding with bewildered expressions.


    Another man Grevail hadn¡¯t noticed hushed Raela the way one might a child from where he leaned against a tree. ¡°Don¡¯t worry miss, you have nothing to worry about. Just do what we say and you¡¯ll be fine.¡± This man was tall and muscular. A scruffy beard covered his chiseled jaw and combed brown hair crowned an intimidating frame. He too had a sword at his waist, while the handle of a small, hand-held crossbow peeked out of a holster on the opposite hip.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Grevail repeated.


    The first man spoke. ¡°Oh, I will entertain you¡­I suppose. I am Iphik.¡± He motioned toward his companion, ¡°and that is Grix.¡± He swept back a leg for a garish bow, then straightened and paused, studying their faces. Grevail realized he was waiting for a reaction. Iphik¡¯s lips turned down as if annoyed. ¡°We are Sifters. The infamous Astranid Sifters to be precise.¡±


    A sudden hardness in Grevail¡¯s stomach almost made him double over. For the first time, he noticed the leather cloaks hanging down their backs and the broad-brimmed black leather hat in Grix¡¯ hand. A silver pendant shined on Iphik¡¯s chest. A rabbit pursued by a wolf, ringed by links of chain. Anybody with the coin to hire Sifters wanted someone caught surely and quickly. Grevail had seen them once¡ªwhen he was a boy they chased a man down Merchant Row. They caught him of course, everybody knew Sifters always got their mark.


    Iphik acknowledged Grevail¡¯s discomfort with a toothy grin. ¡°Ah, I see you know what a Sifter is, even if you have somehow not heard of our exploits!¡±


    ¡°What do you want?¡± Grevail asked.


    ¡°Which one of you has it?¡± Grix rumbled and searched each of them with a stare hard enough to bully a mountain.


    ¡°Have what?¡± Adellus moved as if to stand but sank back when Grix put a palm to the sword at his hip.


    Iphik threw back his head and laughed. ¡°Do not be a fool.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got it,¡± Grevail admitted. He pulled his rucksack across the ground to him and retrieved the relic, offering it to Iphik. ¡°Here¡­it¡¯s yours, just leave us alone. We don¡¯t want any trouble.¡±


    Iphik snatched the cube from Grevail¡¯s hand and held it in front of his face with a smile. ¡°You do not want trouble? I am sure you do not¡­but you have found it, my friend. Unfortunately for you, you must come with us.¡±


    Raela frowned up at the Sifter. ¡°You have it, why do you need us?¡±


    ¡°No more questions,¡± Grix demanded. ¡°Prisoners don¡¯t get to ask questions.¡±


    Grevail¡¯s heart sank as a grim feeling of certainty washed over him. ¡°Will you take us to Eudan?¡±


    Iphik sighed and a look crossed his face that could have been pity, but it disappeared in a casual smile. ¡°We most certainly could, my friend. You are in possession of this,¡± he held the cube in front of him, flat on his palm. ¡°There is likely a warrant for each of you in Eudan, especially after that incident at the bridge.¡±


    Tessyn drew her brows down. ¡°How do you know about that?¡±


    ¡°Questions,¡± Grix muttered.


    Grevail ignored him. ¡°Where are you taking us then, if not back to Eudan?¡±


    Iphik ignored him in turn. ¡°Grix¡­get the chains. I will see that our new friends¡­stay friendly.¡±


    Grix grunted and marched into the trees toward the highway. Iphik tossed the cube back and forth in his hands but kept a sharp eye on all of them.


    ¡°It¡¯s not the Thava is it?¡± Raela asked, fearful eyes glistening on the verge of tears. ¡°Please¡­¡±


    Iphik stared at her a moment before he responded. ¡°The Thava do pay well, though everyone pays us well when we are the best Sifters money can buy. No man or woman can escape¡ªno suspect too elusive. Grix and I have hunted them down by the thousands to the seediest places in Eudan. We know all there is to know about this art.¡± He paused to judge their reactions. ¡°It will not be the first time we have seen a merit in the ear of our marks, though people from Lowtown are usually not worthy of our services. Mudrats, is that what they call you?¡±


    ¡°We found that cube, we didn¡¯t steal it,¡± Raela said, though her quivering voice did not sound convincing.


    Iphik laughed again¡ªa genuine full throated warble. ¡°Miss, you truly mistake me for a fool. It is probable that this relic is the least you are wanted for in Eudan. Murder may well be on the warrant too!¡±


    Adellus growled in his throat, eyes burning Iphik to ash. ¡°We may be thieves, but we are no murderers.¡±


    ¡°That is not what I have heard. In fact, rumor is¡­they suspect you in the death of a man named Gaston¡­and a watchman.¡± Iphik shrugged as if it really didn¡¯t matter.


    Grevail wracked his brain thinking of how they might have been blamed for Gaston¡¯s death, or a watchman¡­but a watchman, not two watchmen. Perhaps one of them had survived somehow.


    The rustle of brush and the clink of metal announced the return of Grix. He held a few lengths of chain in his hands that he tossed to the ground beside Adellus. ¡°I want no trouble while I¡¯m fitting these on you,¡± he stated and made Adellus turn his pockets out before patting him down. Then, Grix put the clasps on him. A band around each wrist and a band around each ankle, connected by rusted chain.


    The tall Sifter gave them all the same treatment¡ªtugging on the clasps to make sure they held. Grevail was last and Grix pulled open his coat to reveal the knife he kept there. The Sifter slipped the knife out of the loop and bounced it in his hand. ¡°It¡¯s cute,¡± he said with a mocking smile.


    ¡°Very good,¡± Iphik said when Grix finished. ¡°Up with all of you and out to the road. Do not worry about your bags, you will not need them.¡±


    ¡°My books!¡± Raela said.


    ¡°You have much more to worry about than that, my dear,¡± Iphik said.


    Raela wobbled to her feet, gazing at her rucksack with tears in her eyes. It had taken her ages to collect them all, and quite a sum of money too for the ones they couldn¡¯t steal, and now because of him she would lose them. She turned red rimmed and contemptuous eyes on him.


    Grevail stood with an apology ready, but stopped when he realized how stupid it would sound. He had every chance to do as she wanted before this, and now it was too late. Raela moved toward the highway at the direction of Iphik, ripping her gaze from him.


    ¡°Move,¡± Grix said and shoved Grevail into motion. He stumbled forward and shuffled after Raela in the half-strides the fetters allowed. They walked through the trees with only the clink of their chains disrupting the natural ambiance and after exiting the forest, found a wagon drawn by two horses as well as another lone mount waiting in the highway.


    Grix herded them into the wagon and then jumped in himself. Several chains were bolted to the wagon bed and at each end a rusty clasp. Grix clamped one of these clasps around the chain between their feet and secured it with a padlock.


    ¡°Please tell us where you are taking us, it¡¯s the least you could do,¡± Raela pleaded.


    ¡°You¡¯ll know soon enough,¡± Grix said.


    Iphik climbed into the wagon seat while Grix mounted the horse.


    ¡°I told you I saw something,¡± Adellus mumbled.


    Grevail met his eyes, and after a moment, inclined his head. ¡°I should have listened to you. I¡¯m sorry, Dell.¡±


    Raela glared at him. He had little doubt what she was thinking. We should have thrown it into a bush and went on our way.


    ¡°Not that it would have done you any good.¡± Iphik snapped the reins and the two brown rumps in front of him moved onto the highway. ¡°You stood little chance of escaping us.¡± He turned and directed a grin at Grix who followed behind the wagon at a trot.


    To Grevail¡¯s surprise, Iphik led them south into the rising Parents and not back toward Eudan. He and his friends said nothing, but Grevail knew that like himself, their minds had to be racing. Iphik and Grix talked to each other little and not about anything Grevail found useful.


    At mid-day, as the Parents rose to their zenith, Iphik stopped to distribute food and water. Boiled eggs and cured ham. Grevail gobbled down what was given to him, stomach grumbling as he did so. In truth, he was surprised Iphik had given them anything, and even more that it was food he couldn¡¯t afford on a good day.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    The headache didn¡¯t go away when he ate something as he hoped. Iphik¡¯s kick left him with an odd tingling sensation behind his forehead that only seemed to grow as the day wore on. He hoped the blow hadn¡¯t left him with some kind of permanent damage. After resting a while, the Sifters packed them back up and they continued on.


    The countryside they passed was vast and empty of human habitation. Hills crowded the horizon to the west, from gently rolling to those split in jagged cliffs or others peppered with rocky outcroppings. A doe and her fawn wading through a field of tall grass raised their heads to watch the wagon pass. They saw few travelers, but as dusk approached, a long line of wagons appeared ahead, one after the other like a trail of ants. A man wearing a large straw hat sat in the lead wagon, and motioned a greeting at Iphik as the wagons came near. A spade stood out on the sideboard of his dusty cart.


    Iphik pulled the reins and waved the man down. The man directed his own wagon to stop in the middle of the road, so those following could continue.


    ¡°Any news from the south?¡± Iphik asked when the stranger halted.


    ¡°Brigands reported a few days south of here¡­raiding guild wagon trains, but they wouldn¡¯t hesitate to rob you too.¡± The man sucked at his lip and spit over the side of the wagon. ¡°Rumors about a shimmerbeast in the hills north of there too,¡± he added as an afterthought with a chuckle.


    Iphik grinned. ¡°We¡¯ve heard rumors too, but that¡¯s all they¡¯ve been, as usual. Any word from Tamirra?¡±


    ¡°Nothing out of the ordinary,¡± the man grumbled, scratching at his patchy beard. ¡°Uruca this, Uruca that¡­you know how they are. Supposedly some noble down there is causing a fuss with talk of a coup. Always the rich itching for a fight when most folk just want enough food on the table.¡± The man laughed with a shake of his head. ¡°What about up north? We¡¯re headed to Eudan.¡±


    Iphik watched the other wagons rumbling by. ¡°Quiet as can be when we left, except for news of Talaen¡¯s nephew. He was killed not long ago and Amphid is in a rage over it.¡±


    ¡°We heard.¡± The man¡¯s eyes drifted from Iphik¡¯s hat, to the silver emblem on his chest, and then finally to Grevail and his friends. His eyes lingered on Grevail¡¯s merit before he abruptly spit on the ground again. ¡°Looks like you¡¯ve had a successful hunt.¡±


    Iphik nodded toward the canvas piled high behind the man. ¡°You as well.¡±


    The man grinned. ¡°True as the dawn, but mine is easier to catch.¡±


    Iphik shared a laugh with him. ¡°Well, we best be on our way.¡±


    The man bobbed his head and prodded the horse pulling his wagon into motion. ¡°Safe travels, Sifter.¡±


    Iphik flicked the reins and the horses trotted off down the highway.


    ¡°Spades,¡± Raela muttered when the wagons finally passed.


    ¡°You do not like the spades?¡± Iphik said without turning around. When nobody answered him, he continued. ¡°I have heard the complaints but they are no cause of trouble for me. The members I meet seem good, reputable people.¡±


    ¡°Not like us then,¡± Tessyn said.


    Iphik flicked the reins again with a rueful shake of his head. ¡°Do they steal? Some of them, surely, but not all.¡±


    ¡°Oh, they steal,¡± Tessyn growled.


    ¡°And get away with it too,¡± Adellus added. ¡°They steal and nobody bats an eye. Nobody can make a living off the marsh without their blessing, and I¡¯ve seen what they do to those who don¡¯t follow their orders.¡±


    ¡°So tell me,¡± Iphik said over the creak of the wagon axle. ¡°How did you come to live in Lowtown? Did the spades kick you out of the swamp too?¡± He turned on the wagon seat to look at them. ¡°I have wondered about the people there.¡±


    Grevail watched Iphik¡¯s face, wondering if Sifter¡¯s were capable of sympathy. It¡¯s worth a try. ¡°My parents were rooters¡ªbefore the spades,¡± Grevail said, putting a solemn look on his face. ¡°They were imprisoned and I never saw them again. I was sent to an orphanage, but I didn¡¯t like it and I left. I didn¡¯t choose Lowtown, Iphik, that was how the die rolled for me. We¡¯re not dire criminals, you know that. You¡¯ve already got¡ª¡±


    ¡°Imprisoned for what?¡±


    Grevail didn¡¯t want to tell him his parents were Breakers, as many who had been left destitute by the Spades had become, so he lied. ¡°They stole food¡­to feed our family.¡±


    ¡°Imprisoned and never seen again when they stole a bit of food?¡± Iphik asked, clear from the tone he thought Grevail was lying.


    Raela spoke up. ¡°My father dealt in furs before the Spades threatened to kill him if he didn¡¯t pay their tax. He only found relief in drink, but it was the Spades that killed him. Does that sound like good people? Iphik, we are only trying to get by. You have your cube, you don¡¯t need us anymore.¡±


    ¡°A sad tale,¡± Iphik said as if he truly meant it. ¡°I¡¯ve known those who could not go a day without drink. A terrible thing. I never claimed I supported every little thing the Spades do, but I do not wholly condemn them, as some would.¡±


    A silence stretched before Adellus spoke. ¡°I was a prince,¡± he said smartly, ¡°but the women of my kingdom were driven mad by my beauty and so they banished me. I ended up in Lowtown.¡± Grevail grimaced at him. Now is not the time, Dell.


    Iphik snorted a laugh. ¡°Obviously, your majesty.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± Adellus said. ¡°I left behind a fortune, too. If you take these chains off us, we can go back and get it. I¡¯ll give you half.¡±


    Iphik turned to raise an eyebrow at Adellus. ¡°You truly take me for a fool?¡± He cast his eyes to Tessyn. ¡°And what about you? Tessyn, was it? Are you a princess?¡±


    She scowled, cutting honey-brown eyes defiant when they locked on his. ¡°I¡¯m not answering your questions if you won¡¯t answer ours.¡±


    Iphik shrugged and cocked his head to the side. ¡°I only wish to shorten the trip with conversation, miss.¡±


    She turned away and looked to a row of large hills on the horizon. ¡°Plying us for information is what I think¡­to make your job easier.¡±


    ¡°Think what you will.¡± Iphik smiled and turned forward. Grevail suddenly felt foolish. A Sifter wouldn¡¯t let them go. Anybody else¡­maybe, but not a Sifter.


    A short time later, the barren hillsides became dotted with homes trailing chimney smoke into the cloudless blue sky, and buildings began to cluster around the highway like a vine around a fencepost. A smattering of people watched them enter the small village with wary eyes. A little girl playing with a doll near the edge of the highway offered the procession a wave, giggling when Grix returned her greeting.


    Iphik pulled the wagon off the road before a dilapidated and dusty building with a veranda roof on the verge of collapse. A sign out front said, ¡®Bit of Everything¡¯. Painted below that, a basket filled with fruit and bread, though it had faded to near illegibility.


    ¡°We need supplies for the rest of our trip,¡± Iphik said. ¡°Do not move, or Grix will discipline you.¡± He jumped down from the wagon and walked toward the building.


    Another round of goosebumps ran up and down Grevail¡¯s body, but soon died away. At least the acrid stench that had been in his nose all day had vanished for the time being. Grix remained mounted, appearing unperturbed at doing so. He busied himself watching their surroundings, but his eyes never strayed far from the wagon.


    ¡°So¡­¡± Raela whispered, ¡°how are we going to get out of this?¡±


    ¡°These are spring locks, shouldn¡¯t be too hard if I can get something strong enough to pick them with,¡± Tessyn said. ¡°I need a slim piece of metal that I can bend into shape.¡± She looked at Grevail. ¡°Stop answering his questions, he isn¡¯t your friend. He¡¯s fishing for information.¡±


    A woman in a bright blue dress with a wicker basket on her hip came into view around the corner of a building and jerked to a stop as if surprised, gazing at the wagon. After a moment, she came forward, shielding her eyes from the light. ¡°Rislyn? Is that you?¡± she asked Tessyn. ¡°It¡¯s been so long!¡± The woman stopped beside the wagon and smiled up at her. ¡°You¡¯ve grown into such a beauty!¡±


    Tessyn¡¯s mouth hung open. ¡°I¡­¡±


    ¡°Miss,¡± Grix said from atop his horse and the woman turned to face him. ¡°These are criminals in transport. Please step away.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± The woman slapped a hand to her mouth and jumped backward. She leveled a scowl at Tessyn and spun away, marching past the wagon.


    Grix watched her leave with a bemused grin.


    Tessyn reacted to Grix¡¯ amusement with a scowl of her own. ¡°Embers consume him¡­¡± she muttered. ¡°Where are they taking us if not back to the capital?¡±


    Grevail tried to push a finger between one of the clasps around his ankle¡ªthey were already beginning to chafe. The tingling on the inside of his skull had moved to the left, and when he turned his head that way, it skittered back across his head to the front. He shook his head in an attempt to dispel it. ¡°It has to be the Thava.¡±


    ¡°But why not to Eudan then?¡± Adellus asked. ¡°It was closer when they found us and there are plenty of Thava there, the most important Thava around.¡± With a suspicious glance at Grix, he lowered his voice even more. ¡°Can¡¯t be the Thava.¡±


    ¡°Maybe if we can get him talking he¡¯ll tell us,¡± Grevail said.


    A cold chuckle escaped Tessyn. ¡°Was that your plan by telling him your sad life story? To befriend him?¡± She nudged Raela in the ribs with a mocking grin. ¡°You too?¡±


    Grevail frowned at her. ¡°Yes. Do you have a better idea?¡±


    Tessyn stared at him a moment before a frustrated sigh escaped her lips. ¡°No, I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Grevail has the best ideas,¡± Raela muttered.


    ¡°Maybe if we started yelling that we¡¯ve been kidnapped, creating a fuss, someone would believe us and demand they let us go,¡± Adellus wondered.


    Raela rolled her eyes. ¡°Who are they going to believe, Adellus? Sifters? Or us, with merits in our ears?¡±


    ¡°They might not even know what merits are,¡± Adellus said. He rubbed at the clasps around his wrists. ¡°I¡¯ve never met a Sifter before but I¡¯ve heard lots of stories. I wonder if it¡¯s true they can sense a crime before it happens.¡±


    Tessyn snorted. ¡°They¡¯d have double the chains on me by now if they could sense what I¡¯ve been thinking.¡±


    Grevail had heard those stories too, everyone had. He¡¯d seen Sifters plenty in Eudan, they even came into Lowtown sometimes, and not even the Khossoroi were likely to do that. Sifter was the kind of thing every sprout wanted to be when they grew up at one time or another.


    The shop door opened, ejecting Iphik, and their conversation died away. The man whistled while he sauntered down the boards laid over the dirt with a burlap sack in his hand, heavy with something or another. Goosebumps sprang onto Grevail¡¯s skin as the Sifter approached and he silenced a curse, wondering if he¡¯d come down with a sickness. Iphik threw the bag onto the wagon seat with a thunk and hopped up beside it. ¡°Any trouble?¡± he asked Grix.


    Grix shook his head.


    ¡°Good,¡± Iphik said. ¡°Let¡¯s be on our way then.¡± He flicked the reins and the horses hauled the wagon away from the shop.


    As they pulled back onto the highway, Grevail realized the smell had returned. He ground his teeth in frustration. Everything was moving so quickly, he didn¡¯t have time to think. Something bothered him, but it remained just out of reach in his mind, disappearing around a corner whenever he grasped at it. The houses and shops turned to farmhouses and fields before all signs of humanity but the road disappeared. Once again, the vast wilderness of Eudan swallowed them up.


    They saw little else but rolling hills and forests for the rest of the day. They stopped once so the horses could drink from a stream. Grevail and his friends were given more food and allowed to relieve themselves if needed. The Sifter¡¯s sequestered themselves a short distance away and talked in low, heated tones. Arguing, it looked to Grevail. Iphik took something from his bag and handed it to Grix. A short time later, they were loaded back into the wagon and headed south.


    As they rode along, Grevail realized that the slithering itch that had been at the front of his head was now in the back. The smell of spoiled wine had gone too. The goosebumps were still there, but to a lesser extent than they were before. He turned to look at Grix behind the wagon.


    As night approached, Iphik pulled the wagon off the road and down an intersecting cart track, Grix following on his mount. They stopped on a flat grassy area not far from the highway.


    ¡°We will camp here,¡± Iphik declared and grabbed his burlap sack, hopping to the ground. ¡°You will sleep in the wagon.¡±


    Grix dismounted and stretched with a groan. ¡°Any mead in that bag?¡±


    Iphik only laughed and began clearing a spot on the ground. He went to a nearby stand of trees that lined the road and searched through it, eventually emerging with a handful of kindling. The Sifter made a fire from it, only big enough to boil a small pot of water.


    Grix contented himself with cleaning the small crossbow he kept in the holster at his waist. Grevail wondered how powerful such a tiny bow could be. Maybe it was for hunting rabbits or other small game, but for some reason, he didn¡¯t think it was.


    ¡°Any progress on picks?¡± Raela whispered to Tessyn.


    Tessyn shook her head.


    ¡°Me either,¡± Adellus said. ¡°We could slip away in the night. Grab the cube while we are at it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll pick his pocket?¡± Raela whispered and raised an eyebrow at Iphik, who sat holding a steaming pot over the tiny fire.


    ¡°The cube is in Grix¡¯ saddlebags,¡± Grevail said.


    Raela¡¯s eyes crept toward him, a growl forming in her throat. ¡°We are leaving it behind.¡±


    ¡°What are you whispering about over there?¡± Grix asked, still scrubbing at the small bow with a rag.


    They fell silent and Grix¡¯ question went unanswered. Without much else to do they laid in the bed of the wagon, jostling and nudging each other to get comfortable. Iphik gave them some bread, even some salted olives, then unhitched the horses and brushed them down.


    Grevail laid awake well into the night, staring into the dark sky, even after he heard the sounds of fitful sleep coming from his friends. Crickets chirped into the cool air, and amid their calls, the low murmur of conversation between the Sifters.


    Something gnawed at him. He never saw Iphik give the cube to Grix for sure, but he knew it was in those saddlebags. The scratching in his head pointed toward Grix¡¯ horse as surely as if it were glowing in the darkness. Something pulled him toward it, a feeling he couldn¡¯t quite describe, like being sucked into a whirlpool. He tried to convince himself it was his imagination, and when he awoke it would be gone, but the more he thought about the events of the day, the more he came to believe it. He knew it was true, like the dawn came every morning. Ashes, what is that thing? What has it done to me?

 Vidian

    Iphik awoke them at dawn. When Grevail sat up in the wagon, he found Grix and his horse gone. Iphik unchained them one by one so they could relieve themselves, then gave them some food and water. The Sifter reignited the small fire from last night, again brewing himself some tea, while Grevail and his friends sat in the wagon.


    After a while, Grix appeared astride his horse, further up the track near the highway. He rode down the rutted wagon road and stopped near the fire, regarding Iphik. ¡°I¡¯ve got something to show you.¡± He jerked his head toward the highway. ¡°Tracks.¡±


    Iphik¡¯s brow furrowed over the steaming cup in his hands. Some unsaid information passed between them and Iphik stood, gulping down the last of his tea. ¡°We might as well be on our way then.¡±


    The Sifter¡¯s harnessed the horses, and in short order the wagon was bumping down the muddy trail toward the highway. When they came to it, Iphik pulled the mounts to a stop and climbed down, Grix following him to the road. The tingling inside Grevail¡¯s head followed the tall Sifter and the goosebumps vanished from his skin.


    Grix and Iphik stood in the road together, whispering and staring at the ground. Grix pointed south while Iphik waved his arms around. Grix pointed south again, this time more forcefully. They met each other¡¯s gaze in a wordless stand-off until Iphik spun away and returned to the driver¡¯s seat. He snapped the reins, sending the wagon south at a quick pace. Grevail leaned over the side to study the ground as it sped by, but couldn¡¯t spot any recognizable tracks.


    As they bounced along, Grevail discovered that wherever Grix went, the itch in his head followed. If Grix were on the right, the itch was on the right. If Grix was behind, so was the itch. If Grix rode ahead, the skittering went with him. The scratching slid on the inside of Grevail¡¯s skull, following Grix¡¯ every movement. The smell of spoiled wine only revealed itself when Grix was ahead of him, but disappeared when he was behind. Am I going insane?


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Adellus asked, watching Grevail.


    Grevail realized he''d been staring at the wagon bed and mumbling under his breath. ¡°I¡¯m fine¡­¡± he said and jiggled the chains attached to his wrists. ¡°Fine as I can be anyway.¡±


    Raela watched him with tight eyes, lips compressed in a dissatisfied line. Her arms twitched, as if she wanted to wrap him in a hug¡­or slap him across the face, but she only looked away with a sigh.


    The endless and uninhabited land, coupled with the relentless squeak of the wagon axle made for a dull journey. The scenery provided the same view it did yesterday and the only thing that seemed to change was the Parent''s progression in their arc. Tessyn especially appeared bothered by the monotony. She shifted in her seat, scowling and grumbling at Iphik¡¯s back.


    ¡°Are you going to tell us where you are taking us?¡± she snapped, breaking the silence.


    Iphik turned with questioning eyes, searching Tessyn below the broad leather brim of his hat. ¡°You will know soon enough.¡±


    ¡°When we are in Andrada?¡± she asked as if the words were a cudgel.


    ¡°Soon,¡± Iphik said.


    Tessyn surged to her feet and clasped her hands together over her head, preparing to club Iphik. She wobbled forward¡ªthe chain restraining her to the wagon bed pulling tight with a metallic snap. ¡°I¡¯ll give you soon!¡±


    Iphik spluttered and raised a hand to defend himself. ¡°Sit down!¡±


    The wagon rumbled over a bump in the road and the bed jolted upward, throwing Tessyn off balance. She teetered on unstable legs for a moment, then fell, landing hard on her rump with a smack that made Grevail wince. Iphik stared at her, open mouth poised for a shout, but then a smile crept onto his lips. He erupted into wild laughter and Grix joined him, slapping a thigh and howling from atop his horse.


    Tessyn¡¯s face flashed a furious crimson, directing a scowl at Iphik intended to stop his heart. Raela offered a hand but Tessyn brushed it away and scrambled to her feet. She feigned another strike at the Sifter, but stopped as Iphik stood, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword. Tessyn met the man¡¯s eyes, but soon wilted under Iphik¡¯s serious gaze and sat, muttering through a clenched jaw.


    ¡°No more!¡± Iphik said. ¡°Sit quietly or I will do more than laugh at you next time.¡± He turned his dark stare from Tessyn to the rest of them.


    After much more time traveling in silence, evidence of humanity again peppered the surrounding wilderness. A man towing a cart piled with logs along the edge of the road appeared ahead. He turned and pushed up the edge of his straw hat with a wave as the wagon came near.


    Iphik returned the greeting. ¡°Where are the best beds?¡± he said as they came beside the woodcutter.


    The man¡¯s lips split in a smile, revealing missing teeth. ¡°The Epikhos¡¯ Coat I¡¯d say! Just ahead and take a left at the Little Leaf! Can¡¯t miss it!¡± His last words were shouted as they left him behind.


    Grix muttered under his breath, twisting his lips at Iphik¡¯s back from where he trotted behind the wagon.


    Beds? Grevail wondered. His friend¡¯s faces took on curious looks, tinged with worry.


    Iphik thanked the woodcutter with a wave over the heads of his prisoners. He gave the horses pulling the wagon some motivation with the reins and they picked up the pace, bouncing toward the buildings ahead. This village was much larger than the one yesterday. Two story buildings loomed over the highway and crowds wandered the streets between them. It was still small, especially when compared to the capital, but Grevail felt more at ease with so many people around.


    The village thickened around them, homes turning to shops and hawker¡¯s stands. Shady dirt avenues lined with trees crossed the highway. A group of women watched the wagon pass, while at the hems of their dresses a gaggle of children chased each other with playful shouts.


    The Little Leaf, a hunched stone building beneath a dirty slate roof soon rose on the left. A brick chimney poured thick gray smoke into the air and a handful of men on benches outside talked loudly with sloshing mugs. A round woman in a stained apron grimaced at the men before turning her attention to the wagon to watch it pass. Iphik pulled the reins and the horses veered off the highway.


    The Epikhos¡¯ Coat was just where the woodcutter said it would be. A well-kept three story building¡ªthe painting of a man in a luxurious fur coat with a crown on his head occupied an entire wall facing the street. The smell of manure wafted from an adjoining yard surrounded by a tall fence.


    Iphik pulled the wagon to a stop. Without a word, he hopped down and strode up wide stone steps to a pair of red double doors. Grix again remained mounted, dividing his attention between the people in the street and his charges.


    ¡°Are we sleeping in the back again?¡± Raela wondered aloud.


    ¡°They¡¯ll want to keep an eye on us, so unless they want to sleep in the stables with us, I doubt it,¡± Grevail said.


    Tessyn twisted in her seat, casting a wary eye at the villagers around them. ¡°They won¡¯t take us inside,¡± she said doubtfully. ¡°Why would they do that?¡±


    Adellus turned worried eyes to the Epikhos¡¯ Coat. ¡°Maybe we are about to meet whoever paid them.¡±


    Adellus¡¯ premonition was met with silence. Gnawing worry ate away at Grevail the longer they waited and the possible employers of the Sifters grew worse in his imagination with each moment that passed. By the time Iphik reappeared, Grevail convinced himself that the Sifters had been contracted by none other than Amphid, but instead, Iphik was accompanied by a young boy.


    Iphik came to stand at the back of the wagon. ¡°Everybody out.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure about this?¡± Grix muttered from atop his horse.


    Iphik scoffed and motioned at the wagon. ¡°Yes, Grix, I am sure. Unchain them.¡±


    With a shake of his head for Iphik, Grix dismounted and climbed into the wagon, unlocking the clasps that kept them chained to the bed.


    When they were all out, Iphik grabbed his burlap bag from the seat and turned to the boy. ¡°It is all yours. These horses have been a long way, I expect them to be well taken care of.¡±


    The young boy nodded and snatched the reins off the ground. ¡°Of course, sir,¡± he squeaked and stared up at the Sifter adoringly, as if Iphik were Otash in the flesh.


    ¡°Don¡¯t forget my mount here too,¡± Grix said, wrapping his reins around a post. He straightened and tossed the boy an ess. The child caught the gold coin against his chest and an unbelieving smile broke over his face. Clutching his prize, the boy led the horses and the wagon toward a gap in the high fence beside the inn, casting curious glances over his shoulder at Iphik and Grix as he went.


    ¡°Follow me,¡± Iphik said to Grevail.


    Grevail exchanged worried looks with his friends until Grix commanded them to move. Grevail searched Grix¡¯ face for clues about what was happening, but found little information in the man¡¯s stony gaze. Grevail trudged up the steps after Iphik and shuffled inside. The ceiling hung high above, held aloft by four very large and round whole timbers. At a number of tables scattered around an empty fireplace at one wall, the few patrons watched Grevail and his fettered friends enter with mild alarm.


    A slim, bald-headed man in a high collared coat stood speaking with Iphik. He took in the four of them with a distasteful twist of his lips, then spoke to the Sifter with concern in his voice. ¡°As we agreed then. Any damage and you pay, no questions.¡±


    Iphik gave the man an impatient nod, as if he¡¯d said this all before. ¡°Of course, of course. You will have no problems, my good man. Everything will be just as it was.¡± Iphik waved at them to follow. Grevail glanced over his shoulder at his friends. Grix stood a pace behind and a head above, watching as if expecting an escape attempt. Grix nodded after Iphik, commanding Grevail to move. The sickly sweet smell was back and in full force, as if a mug of day old wine were under his nose.


    As Grevail moved to follow Iphik, his eyes were drawn to a man wearing a maroon hat twice as big as his head. The Thavan stood at the landing of a staircase, staring at Iphik with surprise¡­or recognition. A Thavan! I knew it, Grevail thought.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    The Thavan¡¯s maroon robes, hemmed with gold at the bottom and cuffs, scraped along the floorboards as he made his way toward them. Embroidered on the breast of the robe in gold thread was a single flame inside a lantern, the symbol of the Thava. Below that, the letter ¡®R¡¯, stitched three times and separated by dots. A thin gold wire spiraled around the Thavan¡¯s round hat from the bottom all the way to the top, separated from itself by a finger-width gap. The man¡¯s eyes consumed the strange group before him, wiggling the large brown mustache hunched over his lips.


    The Thavan raised his hand in greeting, stopping Iphik in his tracks. ¡°Sifter, perhaps you would like a drink? I adore conversation with interesting people and I know a man such as yourself would have news to share. I assure you, I can return the favor. I am Joszi.¡± The man¡¯s beady chestnut eyes slid to Grevail and paused on his chains. ¡°Is this one of your captures?¡± he asked with a hint of incredulity.


    Iphik cleared his throat and threw on a hasty smile. ¡°Yes¡­ah¡­Joszi. Do not worry, you will be safe. I am Iphik.¡±


    ¡°Odd you would bring prisoners inside, Iphik, is it not? Is something the matter?¡± Joszi asked, centering a questioning gaze on the Sifter.


    Iphik shrugged, shifting his feet. ¡°We have spent many days in the wilderness after our marks, Thavak. Surely you cannot begrudge me for spending a night in a bed after a successful hunt.¡±


    ¡°Thavak? I do not belong to this village, Sifter, only passing through like yourself. Where are you going?¡±


    Iphik paused with his mouth open, as if unsure of how to reply. ¡°I apologize, Arbiter,¡± he said, regaining some of his composure. ¡°North. North to Eudan. We will get a nice prize for this one here.¡± Iphik jabbed an elbow at Grevail.


    Joszi chuckled, returning his gaze to Grevail. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure you will.¡± His eyes landed on Grevail¡¯s merit and tightened. ¡°A rogue from Lowtown? What must he have done to warrant your services?¡±


    ¡°Gold is what warrants my services, not the nature of the crime.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Joszi said with an understanding nod. ¡°Occasionally I forget that a Sifter¡¯s business is like any other, though I have employed your kind in the past.¡± He waved toward the common room with a wolfish smile. ¡°I know you are busy, but I would encourage you to come by my table when you are free.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid we need all the rest we can get, Arbiter. The ride has been long and tomorrow will be no different.¡±


    Joszi nodded, the fake smile slipping from his face. ¡°A shame. I would urge you to reconsider.¡± The Thavan¡¯s eyes locked with the Sifter¡¯s in a way that Grevail deemed purposeful. Silent tension built, until Joszi brushed past Iphik and walked to a table where he joined another man, whose bald head swiveled in their direction. Joszi¡¯s companion studied them with piercing blue eyes, but he wore not a speck of Thavan maroon or gold. A bronze sallet helmet hung from a strap on the man¡¯s waist, dangling beside his chair.


    It can¡¯t be then, Grevail thought. A wave of relief spread over him. He turned to look at his friends. Raela¡¯s eyes were big as they could get and Tessyn looked sick to her stomach.


    Iphik met Grix¡¯ eyes with an odd look on his face, then without a word, waved for them to follow and walked toward the stairway the Thavan emerged from. In silence, they ascended to a second story and went down a hallway, stopping at a door near the end. Iphik flung open the door and they followed him through.


    The room was sparsely furnished with two beds separated by a large window. Iphik threw his bag onto a bed, mumbling under his breath, then motioned at Grix. ¡°May I have a word with you?¡± He jerked his head toward the hallway.


    Grix nodded and the Sifters left, closing the door behind them.


    In a torrent of groans and rattling chains, Tessyn, Raela, and Adellus collapsed to the floor.


    Grevail wanted nothing more than to stretch out on the floor too after being in the wagon all day, but the sound of Iphik¡¯s voice murmuring through the door pulled at him. He gathered up his chains in an attempt to quiet them and cautiously crept forward.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Raela whispered at him.


    He knelt and lowered his head to the crack at the bottom of the door frame.


    ¡°¡­you are sure?¡± Grix whispered.


    ¡°I am. I think...¡±


    ¡°I told you we shouldn¡¯t have come here, fool,¡± Grix grumbled, ¡°but you were worried and wanted a bed. Now he is here¡­and you call him a Thavak? Did you not see the gigantic hat he is wearing? This is the¡­¡± his voice drifted from earshot before Grevail could pick up anything else. ¡°¡­followed us.¡±


    ¡°¡­he can¡¯t do anything here, if he could, he would have already,¡± Grevail heard Iphik say, but the Sifter went silent as footsteps thumped toward them, continuing when they faded. ¡°Erphele will have our heads if we mess this up. We won¡¯t have the money to pay Dufiphon if that happens. Watch what you say around him.¡±


    Grix scoffed. ¡°I should watch what I say? Maybe we should leave now?¡±


    Iphik said something inaudible before raising his voice. ¡°What good will that do? We will leave tomorrow morning, but not too early, they¡¯ll expect that if they have any plans for us.¡±


    A silence stretched. Grevail strained his ears, listening for anything else. The squeal of the door handle turning caught him by surprise and he rolled away, pulling his chains tight to silence them. He managed to strike a comfortable pose just as Grix opened the door. The tall Sifter furrowed his brow at Grevail and his friends, but after a moment, shook his head and walked to the window.


    Grevail didn¡¯t know much, if anything about the relationship between Sifters and Thava, but he couldn¡¯t help but wonder why Joszi wouldn¡¯t do as he pleased if he even so much as suspected the Sifters had the relic. Sifters signed contracts with kings, mayors, and village elders to conduct business, usually to bring a criminal to justice or solve some other sort of crime. Perhaps Joszi¡¯s apprehension had something to do with that, if the Thavan suspected anything at all. Erphele and Dufiphon. Neither name meant anything to Grevail, but it could be who hired the Sifters.


    Grix shed his sword, followed by the little crossbow on a bed. He sat beside his weapons and leaned to dig through Iphik¡¯s burlap bag. The itch in Grevail¡¯s head followed the Sifter just as surely as his eyes did. Grix¡¯ hand eventually emerged wrapped around a blue bottle. ¡°I knew it,¡± Grix said with chuckle. He reached into his coat pocket and removed a clenched fist. Grevail glimpsed the golden swirls of the cube glittering between Grix¡¯ fingers before he dropped it in the bag.


    After taking a drink from the bottle, Grix set it on the floor beside the bed. The tingling in Grevail¡¯s skull now pointed at the bag. He rubbed at his nose, wishing he could wipe the smell of wine from it, a smell that filled the room.


    A knock at the door brought Grix to it. The innkeep shoved a bundle of blankets and pillows into his arms, sparing another glower for Grevail and the others before Grix shut the door in his face. Grix dropped the bedding on the floor, gesturing for his prisoners to help themselves, and strode back to the bed.


    Raela hugged a pillow to her chest, watching the Sifter with a frown. ¡°Will you take these off?¡± she asked, raising an arm to jangle her chains. ¡°They are starting to hurt.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Grix said without turning from the window filling with twilight.


    ¡°Are you from Eudan, Grix?¡± Grevail asked.


    Grix turned to smirk at him. ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°And Iphik? Is he from Eudan?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Where is he from? He sounds like he has an accent but I can¡¯t quite place¡ª¡±


    ¡°Wherever Iphik is from, it doesn¡¯t concern you.¡± Grix took a swig from the bottle, giving Grevail another hard eyed stare, and returned his attention to the window.


    Raela raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Grevail, as if to ask him what he was up to.


    With a tired sigh, Grevail laid down, shoving a pillow under his head. It was too early for sleep, though he was exhausted. Grix gave them more food, only a few bits of bread and some dried meat from Iphik¡¯s bag. Whenever Grevail heard footsteps in the hallway, he expected the Thavan to step through the door, or maybe whoever Erphele was.


    Eventually, Iphik returned and Grix left. Iphik went to his bed and laid down, twisting about in an attempt to get comfortable. He set his bag on the floor between the beds and reached inside to pull out a book. He smiled wryly at the bottle Grix left out and put his head against the dark oak headboard to flip through the pages.


    The night deepened, and after some time Grix returned. He locked the door and made his way between the lumps on the floor in the dark room like a cat on a roof, then laid down, and the room once more descended into pure silence.


    Grevail lay in the darkness, conjuring one plan of escape after another and then rejecting them. There was no scenario he devised in which all of them could escape¡­or even one. A terrible feeling settled over him at the realization there may be no way out of this. They were caught, by Sifters, and there was no getting away. A warm, soft hand wrapped around his. He almost shouted, but instead looked down to find Raela peering back at him. Her big and round eyes glittered in the faint light. She gave his hand a squeeze and he returned it.


    Her breathing deepened and after some time her hand fell away from his. Despite the night carrying on, and the aching in his body from the wagon, he could not sleep. The buzzing in his skull kept him awake¡ªpulling him toward that cube.


    Grevail turned to stare at where Iphik¡¯s bag lay, only a few paces away, illuminated by the purple tinged light of Lusin pouring through the window. He was sure the relic was inside, as if he had put it there himself. I¡¯ve lost my mind.


    He tried to keep the tingling scratch from his thoughts. What if I tell Joszi the Sifters have the cube? Would he know what happened in Eudan? Would he arrest them all? Would I just shout it to him tomorrow morning when we leave? Would that be any better? These questions tossed back and forth in his mind like the angry waves of a turmoiled ocean. Sleep pulled at his eyelids, and though he tried to fight it off, slumber rolled over him.


    He floated in darkness. Below, he saw only endless, impossible black, and above, the same thing. There was no source of light that he could see, yet when he looked down at his body, he was perfectly lit. He extended his arms in front of himself but felt nothing. He moved his legs and the result was no different. A dream, he supposed. He blinked. The darkness was now white. A chair, suddenly beneath him, felt smooth and metallic. There was something under his feet, though he couldn¡¯t see anything there. He moved to stand.


    ¡°Please, stay seated,¡± said a thin, piercing voice.


    Grevail found the speaker standing in front of him. He was surprised to recognize the man¡ªthe face he saw that night in the tomb. The face he saw for only a moment, but he was sure it was this man¡¯s face. A barren scalp stretched tightly over his skull. Eyes that were too far apart and a shocking white studied him in return. Disturbing gray skin like ash, crisscrossed with unnatural dark veins, covered his body. The man was very tall¡­and very thin. Impossibly thin. Unnervingly long and wiry limbs poked from his body like the legs of a spider, as though they¡¯d been stretched.


    Grevail waited for him to speak, but when he did not, spoke himself, heart beating against his chest. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    The man smiled. ¡°I am Vidian. Who are you?¡±


    Grevail shuddered. The man¡¯s teeth were small, smaller than any teeth a man should have. Vidian blinked and Grevail noticed that his pupils nearly filled his entire iris.


    Vidian exposed his small teeth again. ¡°You don¡¯t have to tell me. I know.¡±


    ¡°Where are we?¡± Grevail swiveled his head, but the act made him lightheaded. White in every direction¡­yet he knew there was a distance to this space, though he couldn¡¯t say why. The man, nor himself cast a shadow.


    ¡°I wish you would tell me,¡± Vidian said, stepping forward. His long and thin legs reminded Grevail of an insect. He stopped beside the chair and studied Grevail through slitted eyes. ¡°Are you newly raised?¡±


    Grevail recoiled, staring at him open-mouthed. ¡°This isn¡¯t real,¡± he stammered.


    ¡°Of course not,¡± Vidian said with a scoff, gesturing at the whiteness surrounding them. He turned to walk away, but stopped and twisted to eye Grevail again¡ªthis time with disdain. ¡°Have they really let the blood fall this low?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you are talking about! This is a dream.¡± Grevail said again, reminding himself.


    Vidian smirked. ¡°Newly raised then¡­which must be why you haven¡¯t coupled. If only I could find you in here,¡± he spun in a circle before again facing Grevail, ¡°then I¡¯d know everything you do.¡±


    Grevail shivered at the way he said that. ¡°I don¡¯t know anything.¡± He willed himself to wake.


    Vidian slapped his hands together. ¡°Where is it!¡±


    Grevail pushed himself to his feet, swallowing the lump in his throat. Vidian was at least four hands taller. ¡°Where is what? Where are we?¡±


    Vidian lurched forward, long appendages swinging at his sides. ¡°Have they taught you nothing? Did you steal it? I¡¯ll teach you to talk to me that way, Tameling!¡±


    Grevail snarled and steeled himself for whatever was about to happen.


    The darkness of the room surrounded him. The smooth wood floor was once again beneath him. His arm was extended above his head, covered in goosebumps but slick with sweat. It disappeared inside Iphik¡¯s bag where his hand wrapped around the cube. An unearthly blue glow illuminated the sack, and as he released his grip, it blinked from existence. Grix¡¯ heavy breathing and Iphik¡¯s gentle snore were loud in his ears, but no more so than the thumping of his heart. Grevail turned to look down at his feet. His friends were silent lumps beyond the pool of purple moonlight he laid in.


    Slowly, he crawled back to where he¡¯d fallen asleep. The slithering itch filled the back of his head as he did so, calling him toward the cube, but he pushed it away. Burying his face into the pillow, he released a long breath. What is happening to me?

 Arbiter

    Grevail awoke from a tap of Iphik¡¯s boot against his shoulder. The Sifter stood silent until satisfied Grevail was awake, then slung the burlap bag over a shoulder and left the room. Grevail pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing at still-aching muscles from yesterday¡¯s journey.


    The vision he experienced last night slammed into his mind and a rancid tightness crept into his gut from the memory. The itching in his skull was strong as ever, but if nothing else, he was spared much of the smell now Iphik left the room. The slithering tingle crawling across the inside of his head said the cube was moving along the hallway to the common room. He followed it with his eyes. Vidian.


    Tessyn¡¯s face was a thunderhead, and she sat glaring at Grix like her eyes could shoot lightning. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Grix said and motioned for her to stand. ¡°It¡¯s already late.¡± Pale morning light streamed through the window behind the tall Sifter.


    Grevail and his friends stood while Grix went to the door. The Sifter held it open and chaperoned them into the hallway with his usual hard eyed stare.


    ¡°Can we eat before we leave?¡± Raela asked.


    Grix did not reply, and instead shepherded them toward the common room, chains clinking as they went. A patron of the inn paused in the hallway ahead to watch them plod along, but as they came near, the woman hurried into a room and shut the door.


    ¡°To the stables,¡± Grix ordered.


    Grevail¡¯s stomach rumbled when they clattered down the stairs and entered the common room. Wonderful smells wafted from a busy kitchen, masking the scent of spoiled wine the relic left in its wake. He would have become a Thavak for just a bite of whatever created that aroma, but Grix kept them moving.


    When Grevail shouldered through the double doors and descended into the road, the few villagers nearby turned with curious frowns to watch Grix march his prisoners to the stable gate. Just down the street, a knot of men milled about beside their mounts, watching as Grevail and his friends came closer. With a start, Grevail realized he recognized the bald man from Joszi¡¯s table among them. Piercing blue eyes followed Grevail and his friends¡ªthe strange bronze sallet helmet still hanging from his waist.


    ¡°Come on, move,¡± Grix said as they entered the wall surrounding the stable. ¡°Straight ahead.¡±


    Grevail spared a glance at his friend''s dejected faces, then released a heavy breath and did as Grix commanded.


    Iphik stood beside the wagon inside the open doors of the stable, talking with another man. ¡°You will not allow me to hitch these horses?¡± Iphik asked the man, jabbing at the mounts with his burlap sack. The horses stood tossing their manes on either side of the tongue, as if the man had interrupted Iphik hitching them.


    ¡°Sorry, sir,¡± the man said and knuckled his forehead, ¡°but I was told¡­¡±


    ¡°I know what you were told!¡± Iphik shouted and threw his bag into the wagon seat.


    Grevail and his friends shuffled inside, herded by Grix, and Iphik whirled to regard them.


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡± Grix asked.


    Iphik looked on the verge of an outburst, but the man he argued with broke in. ¡°I¡¯m sorry sir, I am, but the innkeep said this wagon wasn¡¯t to leave until you settled your bill,¡± he said, sweeping gray-streaked brown hair from a filthy face. The man¡¯s wary blue eyes bounced between the Sifters, as if wondering who would attack him first, and he brushed anxiously at the straw and dark stains on his trousers.


    ¡°We¡¯ve paid for everything,¡± Grix said.


    ¡°It is no use, Grix,¡± Iphik growled. ¡°I have already told him. I will see the innkeep!¡± Iphik turned to the man and shook a finger under his nose. ¡°Beseech Volera that you are still employed by the time I return!¡± He moved to grab his bag.


    The stableman raised his hands. ¡°No need to unpack your things sir, no. Just a quick word with the innkeep and you¡¯ll be on your way, I swear, I do.¡±


    Iphik drew a dark look on the man. ¡°For your own sake, I hope you are right! Grix, load them into the wagon.¡± He spun and marched through the stable doors.


    The stableman watched Iphik go with tight, concerned eyes. He spread his hands at Grix. ¡°Sorry to cause problems, sir, I am. It should only be a moment, yes.¡±


    Grix furrowed his brow and grumbled under his breath in response, then gave Adellus a shove. ¡°Into the wagon.¡±


    Grevail lumbered toward the wagon ahead of his friends and helped them climb in before doing so himself. Grix hooked the clasps on the bed to the chains on their feet. When finished, he hopped out and went to wait between the open doors for Iphik with the stableman.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got a pick,¡± Tessyn whispered with an eye on Grix¡¯ back. She produced a thin strip of metal from her trousers, two fingers wide. ¡°I can get these off us if I shave it down enough to get it in the hole. I think it will be strong enough to move the spring.¡± She chuckled and returned the pick to her pocket. ¡°Got it off that desk. Iron eye Sifter didn¡¯t see that.¡±


    Grevail nodded, but did not voice his doubts. Even unfettered, they were no match for Iphik and Grix.


    A haggard breath left Raela, as if she too considered the situation desperate. She took them all in, then straightened and gained a determined look in her emerald eyes. ¡°We can do it, if we stick together.¡±


    Adellus swept curly brown hair behind his ears. ¡°We¡¯ve got to do something. Wherever they are taking us it can¡¯t be far off.¡±


    A loud groan punctuated Adellus¡¯ words. It was followed by a thud, like a sack of grain hitting the floor. Grevail half stood and looked over the wagon seat at the stable doors, where the sound came from. The stableman stood over Grix¡¯ motionless body with a cudgel in his hand. The man tossed the club and set about hitching the horses.


    The stableman noticed Grevail peeking at him over the wagon seat. ¡°You will find it in your best interest to follow my directions, young man. Keep your mouth shut, yes?¡± He finished with the horses and bent to dig in a lump of straw near the stable wall. He withdrew a sheathed sword, still on the belt, and jumped into the wagon seat to rifle through Iphik¡¯s bag. ¡°Ahhh, there you are,¡± he breathed, then closed the bag and stuffed it tight onto the seat beside him. ¡°Sit down,¡± he snapped over his shoulder and swept up the reins.


    Grevail fell to his rump as the wagon bolted from the stall and into the yard. Grix pushed himself upright, putting a hand to his head as they raced by. The wagon careened onto the road in a clatter of hooves and squeaking wheels. The bald man from Joszi¡¯s table watched them pass wide eyed, wrestling with his startled mount.


    They rumbled past the inn door just as Iphik stepped through it. He froze, mouth dropping open in shock. ¡°Stop!¡± he shouted when he recovered and ran into the street after them, waving his arms. The blue eyed man and the horsemen with him jumped into saddles, spurring mounts into pursuit.


    The stableman whipped the reins harder, even as his hair trailed behind him from the speed. People crowded the street ahead, and though some saw the wagon barreling down, many were unaware.


    ¡°Make way! Make way!¡± the stableman bellowed. Townspeople parted with surprised shouts and angry denouncements as the wagon thundered past. A woman carrying a basket brimming with freshly baked bread narrowly jumped from the wagon¡¯s path and landed hard on her stomach, scattering white rolls across the street.


    The horsemen followed, propelled by Iphik¡¯s fading cries. The Little Leaf came into view, but just before they reached it, the stableman jerked the reins and the wagon skidded onto a street paralleling the highway.


    The stableman urged the horses on, shouting at the top of his lungs. Raela clung to the sideboard with eyes squeezed shut, red hair streaming across her face. Adellus rattled off a string of curses one after another while Tessyn was bent over the clasps around her feet, grinding at the pick. The wagon roared onward, blurring the buildings at the roadside until they disappeared altogether, replaced by fields on the outskirts of town. The riders dug heels into mounts and started gaining.


    The stableman looked over his shoulder, frowning at the horsemen.


    A rider bent low over the neck of his horse pushed through the dust trailing the wagon to match their speed. He was only paces away and the sound of his mount¡¯s labored breath was loud in Grevail¡¯s ears.


    ¡°You¡¯re caught! Give up!¡± shrilled the young man over the noise of the wagon.


    ¡°On what grounds?¡± the stableman shouted back.


    The young man kicked his horse and moved closer to the stableman. Another rider caught up on the opposite side. The grizzled older man eyed the chains around Grevail¡¯s limbs, then returned a determined gaze to Arxaro.


    ¡°Stop!¡± the young man screeched as he pulled beside the wagon¡¯s horses, reaching for the harness.


    The stableman half stood and twisted his body. A knife bloomed in the young man¡¯s back, right between the shoulder blades, and he fell forward onto the neck of his mount with a shriek, then rolled off¡ªtumbling into the wheels of the wagon.


    The wheel beneath Grevail rolled over the man, and then he was weightless, gliding through the air. An incredible pain exploded in his ankles and he swung downward, slamming into the back of the wagon. Bewildered, he realized he was upside down, hanging by his legs. The clasps around his feet dug into flesh and the road sped by just a pace from his head.


    The hooves of the remaining pursuer¡¯s mount thudded beside the wagon, but a guttural scream ripped into the air and the horseman fell from the saddle, hitting the road in a cloud of dirt.


    ¡°Ash at dawn!¡± the stableman cursed.


    The blue eyed man and another rider still galloped after. Grevail looked up his body at the taut chain between his feet.


    Tessyn¡¯s face appeared over the side. Her horrified eyes locked on his. ¡°Hold on, Grevail!¡± She grabbed at his feet in an attempt to hoist him up.


    Every jolt produced searing pain and his legs felt like they were about to be torn in two. The stableman¡¯s shouts reached his ears over the roar of the axle and deafening creak of the wheels. Just as he thought his ankles would be severed, the chain snapped in a ring of metal. Grevail crashed into the dirt and rolled, hitting his head hard.


    ¡°Grevail!¡± Raela¡¯s scream ripped through the whining in his ears.


    He tried to open his eyes, but could not. He tried to stand, but couldn¡¯t do that either. He felt himself slipping into deeper darkness, the world fading away from him. The sound of thudding hooves seemed like they were a world away, but he knew they were close.


    ¡°Check on the others,¡± a voice said. ¡°Hide the bodies if needed until we can get them out of here. We don¡¯t need the locals poking their noses into this. I¡¯ll send help when I take this one to camp.¡± Boots crunched on the road. ¡°There is someone who would like to talk with you.¡±


    Grevail slipped into black.


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


    Grevail came awake with a groan. He went to put a hand to the pain on the back of his head and realized he couldn¡¯t move. A rope was wound around his chest, tying him to a chair. He was inside a red and gold striped tent. There was a table just beyond his feet¡­and not much else. He winced, gritting his teeth at the pounding in his skull.


    ¡°The Arbiter will be here shortly. Do not try to fight your constraints, scamp. It won¡¯t help you,¡± a voice behind him said.


    Arbiter? He craned his neck but could not see the speaker. The scratching in his mind had faded, though he still sensed the relic further south. How far had it moved away?


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    After some time, a noise at the entrance brought his head up. Joszi entered, swathed in maroon and gold robes. He was accompanied by a woman clutching a leather binder to her chest that sprouted sheafs of paper from either end. She analyzed him with dark eyes, ignoring the strand of black hair falling out of place into her vision. Joszi and the woman sat themselves at the table, each regarding Grevail with a stony expression.


    The Thavan removed his hat and set it aside. He studied Grevail with deep chestnut eyes and stroked the thick mustache over his lips. ¡°Grevail, I know you are wanted in Eudan. I know you possessed an Emberfolk relic. Be truthful with me and you will be treated justly. Lie¡­well, you won¡¯t lie to me, will you?¡±


    Grevail couldn¡¯t get the words out fast enough. ¡°The cube, you want it, right? It¡¯s in the wagon! He is getting away with it!¡±


    Joszi¡¯s eyes went over his head, to whoever spoke when Grevail first came to. ¡°Lyphon, what happened to the Sifters?¡±


    ¡°I did not have time to check,¡± the man said, his voice barren of sarcasm. ¡°I gave chase immediately.¡±


    Joszi returned his gaze to Grevail. ¡°Who stole the wagon?¡±


    ¡°The stablehand,¡± Grevail said between groans as another wave of pain swept over his skull. ¡°I don¡¯t know who he was. You want the¡ª¡±


    ¡°What did he look like? Did he say anything to you?¡± Joszi¡¯s frown deepened.


    Grevail shook his head. You could look at him yourself if you cared to go after him! ¡°He had brown hair to his shoulders and blue eyes. Older fellow, maybe forty or fifty. If you want that cube¡­you have to listen to me. The relic right? That¡¯s what you want? They are¡ª¡±


    ¡°Silence,¡± Joszi said. ¡°You will speak when spoken to.¡± The Thavan grumbled under his breath and worked his mouth as if he¡¯d just been presented with an unforeseen problem. ¡°Did the Sifters know about the relic? Did you hide it from them?¡±


    Grevail jerked his head south, where he felt the scratching leading him. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t hide it. They had it¡­they wanted it.¡±


    ¡°I knew they were lying,¡± Joszi said and thumped the table with a fist. ¡°Do you know who hired them?¡±


    Grevail remembered the name he heard the Sifter¡¯s say. Erphele. Did he even want an Arbiter to find his friends? In the few moments he had to think about it, he supposed he did. It was the only chance they might have. ¡°I think¡­it was someone named Erphele.¡±


    Joszi furrowed his brow. ¡°Erphele¡­¡± He turned to the woman, then Lyphon, likely wondering if they¡¯d heard the name before. ¡°Do you know where they were taking you?¡±


    ¡°No¡­¡± Grevail began but stopped. The cube moved south, and the scratching pulled him toward it. Joszi was the last person in all of Voxetta he wanted to tell about the strange things he felt around an Emberfolk relic, but it might be the only chance he¡¯d have to find his friends again.


    Joszi interrupted his thoughts. ¡°Very well. It is unfortunate you will not provide the information I need. Two brave Keepers died at the burial this relic was stolen from. Slain in their sleep¡­likely by common Cythraul or Dawnbreaker tomb robbers. Did you have anything to do with that? I will find out. A stay in a work camp might refresh your memory. If that isn¡¯t enough, perhaps the Postulator¡¯s efforts may help you remember.¡± Joszi spoke to Lyphon with a gesture at Grevail. ¡°Take him away. I will send him to Inderim. Some time toiling in the swamps will show any Cythraul the path back to the Paragons.¡±


    ¡°If the Paragons will it, Arbiter.¡± Lyphon¡¯s footsteps drew close from behind.


    ¡°I can sense it, the relic, I can follow it,¡± Grevail blurted out. Vidian¡¯s face stuck in his mind for a moment before he dispelled it with a shake of his head. Lyphon paused at his chair back.


    Joszi received his admission with an incredulous chuckle that devolved into a sneer. ¡°You can¡¯t expect me to believe that.¡±


    The woman spoke. ¡°We know some people react strangely to them.¡± Studious brown eyes searched Grevail as if he were a puzzle to be solved.


    Joszi scoffed and turned to her. ¡°You have heard that there are those who can sense these relics, Amma?¡±


    ¡°No, but this artifact in particular has attributes we do not understand.¡±


    Joszi frowned. ¡°Like what? Isn¡¯t this something I should know?¡±


    ¡°You did not ask,¡± Amma said with a twist of her lips. ¡°An Asceraff died after handling one. We suspect his death was caused by the artifacts¡ªwe call them Emberstones, but we don¡¯t know how. There were reports of a farmer who found one and experienced hallucinations, then shortly afterward murdered his entire family. Another, a woman who knew everything about the process of distilling alcohol, though she claimed she had never done it before. Much of her memory from before she touched it had been erased.¡±


    ¡°Spirits of the Paragons,¡± Joszi whispered. ¡°Why we let you study these things, I¡¯ll never know.¡±


    Amma¡¯s mouth tightened at Joszi¡¯s words, as if she were holding her tongue, but she turned her black eyes on Grevail. ¡°Tell me, Grevail, what did it look like?¡±


    ¡°It was the size of my fist, with gold on the edges and little glass circles on each side. There was blue light too, from the glass parts.¡±


    She nodded as if she knew that was what he would say. ¡°Did you have any other¡­reactions to it?¡±


    Grevail stared at her open-mouthed. He told them he could sense it, that was enough for them to never let him out of their sight again, but if he told them about the visions they might throw him on the pyre before he finished talking. ¡°No, I can just tell where it is.¡±


    A skeptical look swept over Amma¡¯s face.


    ¡°Where is it then?¡± Joszi asked.


    ¡°South. It¡¯s going south¡­fast.¡±


    Joszi pursed his lips and a brief silence ensued before he spoke. ¡°As I see it, only a Dawnbreaker would be in possession of such a thing. Even most Cythraul possess a healthy fear of Emberfolk things. Are you a Dawnbreaker?¡± Joszi¡¯s eyes bored into him as if they could squeeze out a confession.


    ¡°I¡¯m no Breaker,¡± Grevail said. He forced his face to stillness and kept his breath measured. It wasn¡¯t the first time he¡¯d been accused, but it was the first time an Arbiter was the one asking.


    ¡°Then why did you have it?¡± Joszi asked.


    ¡°To sell it.¡±


    Joszi¡¯s hands clenched into fists and his lip quivered, as if struggling to control himself. ¡°Sell it to a Dawnbreaker?¡± He jabbed a finger at the green opal in Grevail¡¯s ear. ¡°I know what that is¡­and I know there are many Dawnbreakers in Lowtown, disgusting as it is. To think Talaen would let such people fester in the bowels of his city.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know who might buy it, but I know people will pay for that kind of thing. I¡¯m no Breaker, I swear.¡± After a brief pause he added, ¡°on Bostra and Ilen, I swear.¡±


    Joszi wasn¡¯t convinced. ¡°I¡¯ll defer to the Paragons for any truth in that¡ªand you will hope I do not find different. The Emberfolk brought about The Long Dark and the Dawnbreakers may well bring another with this reckless pursuit of Emberfolk artifacts. Nobody knows this better than I. It is for that reason I have dedicated my life to safeguarding us all from the filth of the past that brought The Long Dark upon us.¡±


    Grevail averted his eyes from Joszi¡¯s unwavering, determined gaze. ¡°I swear¡­I¡¯m not a Dawnbreaker. I only wanted to sell it. I¡¯d sell anything if it meant I could eat.¡±


    ¡°Anything,¡± Joszi said with a grimace, studying him over steepled hands. ¡°Very well, Grevail. I plan to go south anyway, after whoever stole the Sifter¡¯s wagon¡ªgranted my men do not find anything else. I will allow you to play your game. But if I find that you have lied to me, you will regret it¡­dearly.¡±


    Grevail nodded. ¡°They are getting away¡­¡±


    ¡°I make the decisions,¡± Joszi said. ¡°I¡¯ll let you suggest where we go, but I decide when, how, and if.¡±


    Grevail bowed his head, directing his gaze to the tabletop.


    Joszi picked up his hat and stood. ¡°I must see to matters.¡± He turned to Amma, who sat staring at Grevail, the binder under her hands forgotten. ¡°Amma will have more questions for you, be truthful with her as I know you would be for me.¡± Joszi moved past Grevail toward the exit, but paused and spoke to Lyphon. ¡°If a Purifier cannot catch a stable boy, perhaps the Archenari is right.¡± The Thavan settled the hat on his head before exiting the tent.


    A Purifier! Grevail would have clapped a hand to his head if he wasn¡¯t tied up. Ashes, first Sifters and now a Purifier. Who would come after this cube next? Amphid himself?


    Amma watched Joszi leave, then put her elbows on the table and rested her jaw on a fist, weighing him before she spoke. ¡°Where did you find the Emberstone?¡±


    ¡°I traded a man ten ess for it in Lowtown. I guess he didn¡¯t know what he had,¡± Grevail said, trying to keep a straight face, just like he did for the watch.


    ¡°You traded for it¡­of course,¡± Amma murmured. ¡°So¡­you had nothing to do with the tomb robbers? You know nothing of the bodies found there? Even one with a merit in his ear, just like yours.¡± She waited for an answer, but when Grevail remained silent, she continued. ¡°Did you know what he had¡ªthe man you traded with?¡±


    ¡°I had no idea.¡±


    ¡°Ten ess and you didn¡¯t even know what it was? That¡¯s a lot of money¡­especially in Lowtown. Do you always buy things when you don¡¯t know what they are?¡±


    ¡°I knew it was old, and old things are always worth something.¡±


    Amma smirked as if she found some kind of humor in what he¡¯d said, then changed her line of questioning. ¡°You say that you can feel the cube. What is it like?¡±


    Grevail felt an emptiness in the pit of his stomach, as if his worries had distilled to acid and coalesced in his gut. There would be no going back after what he said, and this would only be digging himself deeper, but the threat to his friends compelled him to speak. If he could convince this woman to follow where he led, he might see them again. ¡°It¡¯s an itch in my head¡­pointing in a direction and telling me a distance.¡± He inclined his head south, where he felt the scratching, like an insect burrowing out of his skull. ¡°I can show you right where it is.¡±


    Amma arched a curious eyebrow. She produced a quill and ink from the pouch at her waist, and after untying the straps on her binder, scribbled a few lines on the parchment before her. ¡°A distance? A specific number?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°No, it¡¯s a feeling. It¡¯s hard to describe. I can feel it moving south.¡±


    ¡°When did you notice these effects?¡±


    ¡°A few days ago.¡±


    ¡°And that¡¯s it? You feel¡­itching?¡±


    Grevail sighed, dreading the words he was about to speak. He realized this was the first time he¡¯d told anyone, and a Thavan of all people. ¡°That¡¯s not all. When I¡¯m near it, I get goosebumps on my skin¡­and I smell¡­spoiled wine.¡±


    Amma frowned and looked up from her binder. ¡°Wine?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    With a furrowed brow, the woman bent over the parchment, recording what he said. ¡°And the goosebumps, they go away when you are not near it? Do you know how far from the Emberstone you must be until you feel them?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s hard to say, but if I had to guess¡­ten or twenty paces?¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t smell wine now?¡±


    ¡°No, only when I¡¯m near it, or when I¡¯m somewhere it has been.¡±


    ¡°A trail? How can you tell?¡±


    ¡°It smells different, like an old thing next to a fresh one¡­if that makes any sense.¡±


    Amma paused in her writing and her eyes took on an inward look, as if she¡¯d become lost in thought. She murmured under her breath, frowned at Grevail, then set the quill between the pages.


    ¡°Why are you not going after the relic if you want it so much?¡± he asked, aware of the growing faintness in his skull.


    ¡°It takes time to move a camp,¡± Amma said, as if it were obvious. She continued, voice firm with determination. ¡°We will not let it escape us.¡±


    Damn that relic. Grevail recalled the day they fled Eudan after Gaston¡¯s death when Raela begged him to leave it behind. If only he listened to her, this could all have been avoided. ¡°And my friends? Will you throw them in prison with me?¡±


    ¡°What Joszi does with your friends is none of my business.¡±


    Grevail struggled to control the surge of anger that came over him at the uncaring look on her face. ¡°I should have known better than to expect fair treatment from a Thavan.¡±


    Disdain flashed across Amma¡¯s face and her dark eyes narrowed. ¡°I¡¯m a Conveyor, not a Thavan, and I do not need lessons on morality from a thief.¡±


    Grevail¡¯s face slackened in surprise. He¡¯d only seen Conveyors at the museum near the palace in Eudan, but they seemed harmless enough, though they worked with the Thava to excavate Emberfolk ruins. They were the only people the Thava allowed to touch relics or artifacts of the Emberfolk, to keep them away from Breakers. His gaze dropped to the binder beneath Amma¡¯s hands. It was said Conveyors would brave even Stricken in their quest for knowledge. They knew more than anyone else about anything. ¡°Have you seen these cubes yourself?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve seen them before.¡±


    ¡°Do you know what they are?¡±


    She stared at him, as if wondering why she was answering his questions. ¡°No, no one does,¡± she said and a look of seriousness settled upon her. ¡°That is why it is so important you truthfully tell me everything you know. These objects can be quite dangerous, as I told you earlier.¡± She paused, her eyes intent on his. ¡°They may well be capable of things we could only dream of.¡±


    Grevail fought the urge to swallow the lump in his throat. ¡°I¡¯ve been truthful with you,¡± he stammered. Dangerous or not, I¡¯m not telling her about Vidian.


    Joszi swept through the tent flaps. ¡°We are leaving just as soon as we are ready,¡± he said to Amma, then turned to look down at Grevail, mustache twitching over compressed lips. ¡°I will entertain your supposed connection with this relic for the time being. Consider it a gesture of the Paragons, Varien¡¯s own beautiful compassion. I could throw you in prison today for the rest of your life, but I won¡¯t if you help me find it. If you attempt escape, I will make sure that every watchman at every gate, every Thavak in every village, and every Sifter in every tavern knows your name. Ten thousand ess if need be to bring a Cythraul to justice. Not to mention, your friends will suffer a much worse fate when I find them.¡±


    The Arbiter took a deep breath and bent to grip the table edge till the wood groaned under his hands. ¡°However,¡± he continued, ¡°help me find this relic and perhaps I pardon you and your friends.¡± He shrugged and added, ¡°maybe a thousand ess reward instead of a prison stay.¡±


    ¡°My friends had nothing to do with the cube, they didn¡¯t even know about it¡­but I won¡¯t try to escape,¡± Grevail said. There was little doubt in his mind that Joszi or Amma would never release him after what he said.


    ¡°Very good,¡± Joszi said and turned to Amma. ¡°I would like to speak with you, Amma, before we depart.¡± Amma rose and gathered her binder and together with Lyphon and Joszi, left the tent.


    He sat alone, still tied to the chair, with the fading buzz in his head growing more faint by the moment. Would it disappear altogether if the cube went far enough way? On one hand, he wished it would, especially after what Amma told him, but on the other, it was the only way he could find his friends.


    Some time later, two Thavan Keepers came and untied him from the chair. They took the chains from his hands and feet, then led him outside. Any ideas of escape vanished when he saw how many Thavans were here.


    The camp was nearly all packed up, with red and gold striped tents being thrown into wagons. A knot of Thavan Keepers in red and gold tunics sat on horseback, waiting for the command to leave in shining kettle helms while many more on foot milled about.


    ¡°You will ride in that,¡± Joszi said from atop a red mare, nodding toward a wagon with a cage rising from the bed, not much taller than Grevail was. A jail cell on wheels.


    The Thavan soldiers hauled him by the arms toward the wagon and pushed him into the cage, securing the door with a thick, rusted padlock.


    The driver turned in the wagon seat to look at him. ¡°Welcome, like the dawn. Joszi told me why you are here!¡± she said. She looked much too old to be driving a wagon, with stark white hair to her shoulders. She smiled, displaying brown crooked teeth behind thin lips and searched Grevail with a friendly gaze. While one of those eyes was a warm brown, the other was nearly white¡ªlike an overcooked egg yolk. ¡°It is never too late to forswear. I¡¯m Thyma.¡±


    Forswear. Grevail grimaced at the word. He didn¡¯t know much about the Thava, but he did know what that word meant, so did anyone else in Lowtown. That meant they would lock you up until you agreed with whatever they said. Only then would a Cythraul be considered clean and allowed to leave, and they might just throw you on the pyre anyway. To the Thava, it meant one less Stricken in the world.


    She gave him a wink of her white eye and whipped the reins. They followed a long line wagons and Thava through the trees toward the highway. ¡°Jahisco will guide us on our journey!¡± Thyma said as the wagon trundled into motion.


    I¡¯m coming, Grevail thought, concentrating on the faint scratching against his skull.

 Shimmerbeast

    Raela couldn¡¯t take her eyes off Grevail laying in the road, even as he became a speck in the distance. A rider stopped beside him¡ªthe bald man who chased them from town, she thought. She tugged at her chains with the futile hope they would snap and she could jump from the wagon herself.


    Tessyn yelled at the stablehand to stop, but he ignored her, and instead shot a wary look over his shoulder at the riders. He did not slow the wagon or put down his blood streaked sword until the mounted men dipped from view. The horses grunted in protest, coated in a thick lather, until finally the stableman pulled on the reins and stopped.


    The man stood to look at the road behind them, raising a hand to shield his eyes. Sure they were no longer being followed, he lowered his gaze to the wagon and his eyebrows jumped to his hairline. ¡°What happened to the other one?¡±


    ¡°He fell out!¡± Raela spat. ¡°He could be dead!¡±


    "Fell out?¡± The stableman asked, squinting at the broken length of chain Grevail had been tethered to. He issued a sudden curse, sucking air through his teeth, then nodded as if he¡¯d made a decision and met her eyes. ¡°He will be fine, yes.¡±


    ¡°Fine? FINE?¡± Raela scowled. ¡°You¡¯ve ash in your blood!¡±


    ¡°They were Thavans, did you know? They have an Arbiter with them too. Do you know what that is? Do you?¡±


    ¡°Which is why we have to go back and get him,¡± Tessyn growled.


    The stableman waggled his head and sat, turning his back to them. ¡°Go back? You are insane! Barragos! They will throw us all in the dungeon forever, they surely will. Rumor says a Carreiro is at that camp, and that means at least a hundred Keepers, if not more. I will stay off the highway to avoid them, and run these horses to death if need be, yes.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve got to go back!¡± Raela pleaded, wiping at the wetness welling in her eyes. ¡°He needs our help!¡±


    ¡°I am sorry about your friend¡­I am, young lady, but to turn this wagon around now would be madness. I will not do it, no.¡± Arxaro snapped the reins and the horses shambled forward at a walk.


    Raela released a groan and looked at her fetters through the tears threatening to pour down her face. I can¡¯t give up, she told herself. Tessyn and Adellus need me. Grevail would find them, or they him.


    Adellus watched the stableman with narrowed eyes. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°Who I am is not important, not important at all,¡± the stableman said. ¡°But you may call me Arxaro.¡±


    ¡°You have that ashen relic, take it and leave us!¡± Raela shouted at his back.


    ¡°I cannot, young lady. You must come with me,¡± Arxaro said, a tone of genuine reluctance saturating his voice.


    ¡°WHY? Why do we have to go with you!¡± She stamped her foot on the wagon bed, trying to burn away the tears stinging her eyes with anger.


    ¡°These are my orders,¡± Arxaro said and turned to look at them. ¡°I understand your frustration, I do. Many people are after what you know.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know anything.¡± Tessyn¡¯s cutting brown eyes challenged Arxaro to prove that they did.


    Arxaro spread his hands. ¡°This relic in your possession¡­it is evidence otherwise.¡±


    Adellus studied Arxaro as if he were a puzzle to be solved. ¡°Are you a Sifter too?¡±


    Arxaro snorted. ¡°Certainly not, no.¡±


    ¡°Where are you taking us?¡± Raela demanded.


    Arxaro brushed gray streaked brown hair from his face and regarded her with bright blue eyes that possessed a glimmer of sympathy. ¡°Tamirra. I tell you this only because I feel badly about your friend, I do.¡±


    ¡°Are you a Breaker?¡± Adellus asked.


    Arxaro narrowed his eyes at Adellus¡¯s continued attempts to discover his identity and turned away, flicking the reins. ¡°I am no Dawnbreaker, no. You¡¯ll find no greater enemy of the Thava than I, but I am no Dawnbreaker.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know anything about the relic or what it is,¡± Raela told him again. ¡°Let us go!¡±


    Arxaro ignored her.


    ¡°Tell us who you are,¡± Tessyn demanded. ¡°You say you are not a Sifter. If you are not a Sifter then you have no contract and no right to hold us like this.¡±


    ¡°Oh? I have no right? Who will you complain to? The Thava? The watch? You are free to talk with them, yes, if you can find a way out of those chains¡­though it seems they all prefer you in chains too, they do.¡±


    Raela remained silent after that, though Adellus continued picking away at the mysterious man¡¯s defenses. She tried not to think about what might be happening to Grevail, but it was impossible. She could only push the worst from her imagination, yet no matter how quickly she did, another scenario replaced it. Arbiters were the subject of many tales and books, some of which detailed their misdeeds. They were fond of torture and accusing people of being Cythraul, usually those who could not defend themselves.


    Tessyn stared at the countryside, as if she too shared Raela¡¯s thoughts. I should have never let Grevail talk us into that tomb. He had good intentions, but his grandiose schemes always led to more trouble than they were worth. He¡¯d been that way ever since she met him¡ªalways dreaming up some plan or another. Raela wished they were all safe inside their shack in Lowtown, even with Aeson, it was better than this.


    She always considered it her duty to keep them safe, to corral her friends from their worst ideas, yet everything had gone so horribly wrong since they left for that stupid burial. Grevail was always searching for a way out of Lowtown, and he found it, just not in the way they¡¯d all hoped. She rubbed at the clasps around her wrists that hurt more every day after that Grix fellow put them on. I hope he wasn¡¯t killed by that blow to the head.


    Her inner voice scoffed at her naivety. I¡¯ve just watched two men be possibly killed, who knows what has happened to Grevail, and I¡¯m thinking about the welfare of the last person who kidnapped us. She watched Arxaro¡¯s back as the man gave Adellus vague answers about his intentions. Whoever he was, he wasn¡¯t the average thief. Attacking a Sifter and stealing from them. Not even the roughest sort in Lowtown would dream of doing something like that¡­well, not successfully. Not only stealing from Sifters, but killing Thava too, and without hesitation. If he were willing to stab Thava with that sword, Raela didn¡¯t think he¡¯d have any qualms about running her through as well.


    Arxaro rifled through Iphik¡¯s bag, tossing a waterskin and food at their feet as they crossed the Lukraesh river after mid-day. It was smaller and less virulent than the Kinarkand, but still wide and deep. The rickety wood bridge spanning the water seemed to sway as the wagon rumbled across. Raela imagined the wagon falling through into the water, dragging them to the bottom by their chains. Adellus couldn¡¯t even swim. Her hands latched onto the sideboard in a white knuckle grip until they passed.


    From the maps she¡¯d seen in her books, she knew they must be nearing Tamirra. There was a huge map of Voxetta in the Conveyor¡¯s museum near the palace in Eudan, and if that was right, they were only a few days away. Grevail loved the museum. He told her that as a boy he made up stories of his own for the things he saw there because he could not read the descriptions, until Raela taught him how. The more she thought about books and reading, it only made her think of her rucksack, rotting away in some meadow a few days behind them.


    Adellus was still pestering Arxaro with question after question. Raela thought it futile, but however pointless it might be, she gave an ear to listen.


    ¡°You are from the south, I can tell from the way you talk,¡± Adellus was saying. ¡°I met a woman from Tayori who talked like you.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± Arxaro said, releasing a long, annoyed breath. ¡°I will tell you a little about myself, yes? I am from Pictayn. You know where that is, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Of course we do,¡± Raela said. ¡°Why are you in Eudan kidnapping people?¡± Adellus furrowed his brow at her before returning attentive eyes to Arxaro.


    Arxaro remained silent, as if considering whether or not to answer. ¡°It pays well,¡± he said finally and took a long pull from Iphik¡¯s water skin. ¡°Not that I consider this a kidnapping. I was merely freeing you from the captivity of those of Sifters, yes.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right, Arxaro, it was the Sifters who kidnapped us,¡± Adellus agreed.


    Raela gave Adellus an incredulous look but spoke to Arxaro. ¡°We¡¯re free to go then?¡±


    ¡°No¡ª¡±


    Adellus broke in, talking over whatever else Arxaro was about to say. ¡°What did you do before you started kidnapping people? Are you from Rivella?¡± he asked.


    Raela frowned, resisting the urge to hit him. If she didn¡¯t know any better, he was enamored, not fishing for information.


    ¡°I have visited Rivella, yes. Beautiful city it is. Most beautiful in all of Voxetta.¡±


    ¡°Is it true that the mesa is five hundred paces tall?¡± Adellus, asked, scooting as close to Arxaro as the fetters allowed.


    ¡°Five hundred? No¡­no¡­¡± Arxaro watched Adellus from the corner of his eye. ¡°It is a thousand.¡±


    Adellus¡¯ mouth dropped open. ¡°I heard the women there are all beautiful as Volera herself, and the rivers are filled with wine.¡±


    Arxaro chuckled. ¡°Pictay women are very beautiful, yes.¡± He tilted his head and pursed his lips. ¡°Though the Broadleaf and Nottavaquenne flow with water like any other river. Plenty of wine to be found in the districts, yes, enough for a river.¡±


    ¡°Do you know any of the families?¡±


    ¡°The merchant families?¡± Arxaro rubbed his chin, a frown pulling at his lips. ¡°No, no. They wouldn¡¯t want anything to do with a poor old man like myself, no.¡±


    Tessyn cleared her throat. ¡°A poor old man? A poor old man who steals from Sifters and kills Thava in his spare time?¡±


    Arxaro nodded. ¡°Yes, a poor old man.¡±


    Adellus glared at Tessyn, but spoke to Arxaro. ¡°Have you seen the families? I read that they are the richest people in the whole world.¡±


    Raela wanted to kick him. He is not our friend! Not only that, but she had read him that. Arsevin Sardaho¡¯s book ¡®An account of Rivella and the people there-in¡¯. The merchant and banker families of Pictayn were said to be extremely wealthy. ¡°I bet they have enough money to hire a kidnapper.¡±


    Arxaro ignored Raela. ¡°I have seen them, yes. They may well be the wealthiest people in the whole world. I have never seen wealthier.¡±


    Adellus grinned and laughed as if Arxaro had told a joke. ¡°What is¡ª¡±


    Raela kicked him in the ankle. ¡°Not another word, Dell!¡±


    Arxaro turned in time to catch the look on her face and tossed his head ruefully. ¡°It seems the young lady does not want us to talk, no.¡±


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t want him talking to you, our captor,¡± she growled at Adellus. ¡°What about Grevail, Dell?¡± She returned her attention to Arxaro. ¡°Don¡¯t call me young lady.¡±


    Arxaro raised an eyebrow. ¡°What should I call you then?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t talk to me unless it is to say we are free to go.¡±


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°Very well, but you should know, I have no intentions to hurt you. Those are not my orders, no. We only want information about the relic¡­and who hired you to steal it.¡± Arxaro shrugged and went back to watching the road.


    And what if your orders were to hurt me? ¡°Who hired us? Nobody hired us!¡± Raela screamed, even as she remembered Gaston. ¡°Let us go!¡± Her shouts had little effect on the stableman, who merely shook his head and began to whistle a tune.


    Adellus shot her a quizzical look and spread his hands. Raela grabbed a handful of her trousers to avoid slapping him. Whatever harebrained scheme he had invented, this fellow would not fall for it. Tessyn was right, he was anything but a poor old man.


    The parents came down to the horizon and slowly sank behind. Shortly after nightfall, they came upon another village nestled along the highway. Few people roamed the rutted dirt streets that branched away into darkness, though it was a sizable town. Arxaro pulled the wagon down one of those streets.


    Raela¡¯s heart quickened and she exchanged alarmed looks with Adellus and Tessyn. She gripped the sideboard and prepared a scream on her lips that would wake half the village.


    A stable loomed in the darkness on the left, tucked behind a row of trees. The building emitted the muffled grunts of horses and a strong scent of manure. Arxaro halted the wagon and jumped to the ground.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be back.¡± He turned toward the stable but stopped and raised a finger at them. ¡°Don¡¯t move.¡± He grabbed Iphik¡¯s burlap sack and trudged toward the gate.


    Tessyn raised her chains at his back and shook them with a sneer.


    ¡°Why did you do that, Raela?¡± Adellus asked when Arxaro disappeared through the stable gate. ¡°He isn¡¯t like the Sifters. I think he would let us go.¡±


    Raela shook her head with a roll of her eyes. ¡°After what he did to get us? He isn¡¯t going to let us go, Adellus.¡±


    ¡°Hard to say who is in more trouble right now, us or Grevail,¡± Adellus said, a long sigh punctuating his words. ¡°If Arxaro is telling us the truth and those men chasing us were Thava, he could be in prison already. Maybe he got away somehow.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t trust him,¡± Raela said, watching the stable. Grevail might be in the hands of the Thava, but whose hands were they in? ¡°We¡¯ve got to do something. I¡¯ve had enough of being carted around in these chains.¡±


    Tessyn cursed at the clasps around her wrists. ¡°I dropped my pick when Grevail went over.¡± She raised angry eyes that looked on the verge of tears.


    Raela leaned to grab her hand. ¡°We¡¯ll find him. He will be alright. He has to be.¡± Tessyn wasn¡¯t one to cry, in fact, she kept her emotions bottled up more than most men did. If she was openly expressing anything other than anger it meant she¡¯d had enough.


    ¡°Grevail will be fine,¡± Adellus said confidently. ¡°The Thava won¡¯t kill him, send him to a prison maybe, but they won¡¯t put him on the pyre. We can get him out. We have to get him out.¡± His attention returned to the stable. ¡°Wonder what he is doing in there?¡±


    Raela wasn¡¯t as certain of Grevail¡¯s well-being as Adellus seemed to be, though he did have the habit of seeing everything in a positive light. Grevail could have broken his neck for all they knew. ¡°He¡¯s got to be a Dawnbreaker.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I thought too,¡± Adellus said. ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯s a Sifter, there is no reason for him to lie about that. Who else would want this cube? It must really be something.¡±


    ¡°I should have never let Grevail talk us into this,¡± Raela said.


    Tessyn scowled. ¡°What choice did he have, Raela? We went with him because we didn¡¯t have any choice either. Aeson has probably already left Lowtown in ashes.¡±


    Raela resisted a rebuttal. It wasn¡¯t the time to argue. There were other solutions, other solutions that wouldn¡¯t have led to this. It was her duty to keep them from their most foolish ideas, and this time she failed. If it wasn¡¯t for her, they¡¯d all have been dead long ago. And now look at us.


    Arxaro eventually emerged from the night and unhitched the horses. He led them to the stable and inside, only to return a short while later with two different mounts.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Adellus asked Arxaro as he harnessed the horses.


    ¡°Fresh steeds will make the journey faster,¡± he said.


    ¡°They would have been fine after a night¡¯s rest,¡± Adellus said.


    Arxaro shook his head. ¡°They will not find any rest on our path, no. We will not stop until we reach our destination, unless you must relieve yourselves¡­and maybe not even then,¡± he finished with a dry grin and climbed into the driver¡¯s seat. He drove the wagon back to the highway and out of town.


    Into the wild darkness of Eudan they went, until they were once more surrounded by the immense countryside, now lurking in shadow. Arxaro swayed silently as the wagon rocked down the road. Adellus and Tessyn slept fitfully, occasionally waking to gaze with fearful eyes at their surroundings before once again nodding off.


    Raela watched them for as long as she could, fighting her own urge to sleep. She knew they felt better when they woke and saw her looking back at them. Yet despite her best efforts, she nearly dozed off several times herself until a bump in the road pried her eyes open. And once, when interrupted from one of these brief moments of unwanted sleep, she heard voices.


    Raela straightened to look over Arxaro¡¯s shoulder. Just ahead, a wagon lay on its side blocking the highway¡ªcrates and other debris spilled around it. A dark haired man and an older woman with red hair stood beside the wreck, while not far away, a blond woman stood with the reins of two horses who busied themselves by nibbling at the tall grass along the road¡¯s edge.


    Arxaro pulled the wagon to a stop, frowning at the pace tall banks on either side of the highway that prevented any detour.


    ¡°Hello,¡± the red-headed woman called. ¡°We could use your help,¡± she pleaded. The dark haired man said something to her and walked to stand between Arxaro and the wagon.


    Arxaro grumbled under his breath, then whispered over his shoulder. ¡°Keep quiet and stay still.¡± He hopped down and went to talk with them.


    ¡°Should we say we¡¯ve been kidnapped?¡± Adellus asked.


    ¡°Good a time as any,¡± Tessyn said. ¡°He¡¯s no Sifter.¡±


    Raela shook her head with an eye on the sword swinging from Arxaro¡¯s hip. ¡°You saw what he did to those Thava. Look at these people, do they look like fighters to you? I don¡¯t think they even have weapons.¡±


    Arxaro came to stand with the dark haired man. ¡°What happened?¡±


    The man released an exasperated sigh and motioned at the horses. ¡°Skittish Iffy there. A wild dog jumped out of the grass barking and growling. Iffy panicked and took off¡ªol¡¯ Bitsy went with her. I tried to pull em¡¯ straight, but she tipped it over anyway.¡± The man shook his head and glared at the horse. Iffy swished her tail and paused with a wad of grass in her mouth to return his gaze.


    Arxaro grimaced, rubbing his chin. ¡°If you can take those horses on the other side, tie them off with some rope, yes? Then¡­we lift from here.¡±


    The dark haired man studied the wagon as if imagining Arxaro¡¯s plan. After a moment, he nodded and turned to the blond woman holding Iffy and Bitsy¡¯s reins. ¡°Phora, take them around, please.¡±


    The blond woman led the horses around the overturned wagon while the dark haired man retrieved a length of rope from one of the many crates laying in the road. They all disappeared on the other side as Arxaro instructed Phora where to tie the horses. When the horses were ready, the dark haired man, Arxaro, and the red headed woman came back into view.


    The red-headed woman cast an eye toward Raela in the wagon. ¡°It would be easier if they helped, wouldn¡¯t it?¡± she asked Arxaro.


    Arxaro stared at her, as if surprised she would ask, but quickly shook his head. ¡°No need, no. We will manage.¡±


    The woman shrugged, but as Arxaro and the others bent to grip the wagon, she instead sent a curious gaze Raela¡¯s way before joining them.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to say something,¡± Adellus whispered.


    ¡°Don¡¯t Dell,¡± Tessyn said. ¡°Raela is right, he might kill them.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think he would,¡± Adellus said. ¡°I¡¯m telling you, he isn¡¯t like the Sifters. Those Thava would have done worse to him and you know it. I could have got him to let us go if Raela wouldn¡¯t have interrupted.¡±


    ¡°Alright, Phora, get the horses moving,¡± Arxaro shouted to the blond woman on the other side of the wagon.


    The horses snapped the ropes taut and the wagon rocked in place. Arxaro and the others lifted, grunting and groaning from the effort. The wagon tilted upright, then came to a tipping point and crashed onto the wheels in a squeal of wood. It crept forward toward the ditch until the dark haired man slid a crate beneath a wheel to stop it.


    The man turned from inspecting the damage with a smile for Arxaro. ¡°Thank you, sir. I appreciate the help. I¡¯m Opulus.¡±


    ¡°Antaris,¡± Arxaro replied. ¡°It is of no consequence, no, but I must be on my way.¡±


    The man sent an inquiring gaze at Arxaro¡¯s wagon, and the people inside, but said nothing. ¡°Perhaps you could stay and help me mend the wheel?¡±


    Arxaro shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I am, but I must be on my way.¡±


    The dark haired man nodded as if he understood and frowned at the damaged wheel. ¡°Phora, hitch those horses so we can get out of his way.¡± The blond woman went to do as he asked.


    The red headed woman gestured at Raela. ¡°Would you and your friends like something to eat or drink? It is the least we could do for your help.¡±


    Arxaro waved impatiently at her. ¡°It is quite alright. We must be on our way, yes, quickly.¡±


    The woman furrowed her brow and cast another suspicious glance at Raela.


    Phora harnessed the mounts and the wagon soon creaked out of the way to the roadside, one wheel wobbling badly.


    Raela looked at Adellus, thankful that he only sat scowling at the wagon bed. Getting these people killed won¡¯t help anyone. She swept her eyes over the field of tall grass beyond the road, motionless and stretching into the still night. If only they could escape into it, Arxaro would never find them hiding there in the dark.


    Her gaze stumbled across on an odd depression, a dip in the grass, as if something were indeed hiding there¡­.and it moved. It angled toward the road, like a fisherman¡¯s line pulling through a quiet lake. Raela¡¯s thoughts raced as she watched it come closer. A wolf! Or more likely, the wild dog the dark haired man mentioned. It came to the edge of the ditch and paused. Raela readied a shout to alert the others¡­but the words died in her throat.


    The grass parted and what she could only describe as a blur, like the hazy air around a flame, descended from the bank to the road. She shook her head and dropped her eyes to the ground. A footprint was pressed into the dirt, right where the blur was. A large, oddly shaped footprint. As she watched, another print materialized in front of it. The grass behind the blur was smeared and distorted, but so subtly, it was hard to focus on the strange aberration.


    ¡°Arxaro¡­¡± she whispered and stood, pointing at it.


    Arxaro turned her way and arched an eyebrow in surprise. He looked to where she pointed, then back to her. With a shake of his head he stalked toward the wagon, grumbling under his breath.


    The red headed woman followed close behind with a suspicious glint in her eye. ¡°Sir¡­Sir¡­¡±


    Arxaro whirled to confront her. ¡°Miss, I¡¯ve told you, we don¡¯t need anything.¡±


    The woman stopped, right in front of the blur. ¡°Something isn¡¯t right here. Why do those girls look so scared? Who are¡­¡±


    The air behind the woman shimmered, like ripples on a pond glinting in the sunlight. A form coalesced from these ripples, taking the shape of animalistic curves and muscles. It lasted only a moment, and when the ripples disappeared, a gigantic creature towered over the pair of humans before it. Smooth gray skin stretched over large, veiny muscles. Many wispy white hairs floated from the beast¡¯s hide, shifting in the slight breeze and illuminated by Arulan¡¯s pure light. The creature¡¯s thick neck ended in a bulbous head, and where eyes should be, were instead only flat expanses of skin.


    A jagged triangular hole in the middle of the beast¡¯s face shivered, expelling mist in a forceful exhalation. The creature¡¯s wide crescent maw cranked open to reveal rows of sharp, arrowhead-shaped teeth. The beast dwarfed the red-headed woman, Arxaro, and even the horses and the wagon. It teetered suddenly on thin legs and raised a pair of long arms. Along each forearm were serrated rows of bone that ran all the way to the hand. The fingers were fewer in number than a man¡¯s, crooked and bony, and each had a claw almost as long as the fingers themselves. The beast balled its clawed fingers. Raela gasped as the bone plates along the forearm seemed to flex and a nearly pace long spike of white, serrated horn, extended beyond the creatures fist.


    The monster hurled that spiked arm at the red headed woman¡¯s back. It ripped through her effortlessly, like a sword through parchment. The woman screamed¡ªa shocking, frantic wail. She raised horrified eyes from the massive piece of bone through her body and met Raela¡¯s gaze. The beast jerked its arm and yanked the woman off her feet, tossing her through the air. Her pitiful body slammed to the ground at the foot of her own wagon twenty paces away, like a discarded plaything.


    The dark haired man stared at her aghast, but recovered from his shock and dashed to her side with a wail of his own. Arxaro stumbled backward, sputtering and clutching at his sword. He ducked around the side of the wagon, casting a terrified look over the sideboard as he ran past.


    The beast emitted a snake-like rattle that was so deep Raela felt it in her chest. The chains laying on the wagon bed vibrated, clattering and slithering around their feet like eels. The serrated bone horns paralleling the arms, one streaked with the red-headed woman¡¯s blood, retracted and disappeared as the thing opened its fists. The rattle stopped and the beast shimmered again. It became translucent, almost invisible, like a raindrop on glass, before flashing into existence again. It crept toward the horses pulling the wagon, silent and menacing, giant head swaying. The mounts tossed and writhed in their harnesses, whinnying and jumping onto hind legs. The beast stopped before the mounts, as if inspecting them, the triangular hole above the mouth moving in and out.


    The creature again balled it¡¯s fists, the bone plates along the forearms flexed, and the serrated horns ejected. It thrust one spiked arm into the belly of a horse and the mount collapsed with an ear piercing scream. The sound of the horse¡¯s desperate movements made the hair on Raela¡¯s arms stand on end, yet the beast only stood over it, watching, or so it would seem if it had eyes. The remaining horse bucked, hooves cracking against the wagon, and tossed violently. Spikes once again retracted, the Shimmerbeast hooked the horse¡¯s neck in its sharp finger claws and pulled the head toward its mouth, handling it like a toy. Many rows of sharp teeth sank into the horse¡¯s neck and the steed¡¯s searing shriek was abruptly cut short as bright red blood erupted in a spray from the edges of the beast¡¯s mouth, spattering wetly to the road.


    Adellus ripped the shoe from his foot and tossed it at the creature. ¡°Ashes! It¡¯s going to eat us alive!¡±


    The Shimmerbeast rattled, rippling and shimmering, and ducked as the shoe flew wide. Dropping the lifeless horse to the ground with a thud, it centered it¡¯s gaze on Adellus, or so Raela thought¡ªthe flat spaces where eyes should be gave no indication. The Shimmerbeast extended a blood dripping claw toward them. Trembling, Raela hid behind her hands but unable to look away, peeked through her fingers. She expected the monster to launch itself at them any moment, but instead, the Shimmerbeast reached to poke at Iphik¡¯s burlap bag in the driver¡¯s seat. The triangular hole in the face moved in and out as the beast turned its head, as if unsure what the bag was.


    Opulus rose from beside the red headed woman¡¯s body. ¡°Apora!¡± he screamed and drew a small knife from his belt. ¡°Kill me then! Stricken! Kill me too!¡± He ran forward and slung his blade at the monster. It vaulted off the creature¡¯s back and over the wagon. The beast spun to face the dark haired man, emitting another deep rattle that shook Raela¡¯s brain in her skull.


    The man¡¯s anger vanished as the Shimmerbeast¡¯s attention fell on him. Releasing a horrified groan, he darted toward the ditch and scrambled up the bank into the waist high grass. The beast shrieked, like air escaping a kettle, and bounded after him¡ªthin legs tripling the pace of a man in a shambling gait. Raela watched it race away, flashing in and out of visibility as it went, trailing long, wispy white hair.


    ¡°Opulus!¡± Phora¡¯s shout came from somewhere in the dark fields. ¡°Run!¡±


    Arxaro¡¯s head poked above the wagon behind them. ¡°Ash at dawn,¡± the man uttered in shock.


    The beast climbed out of the road and into the fields after Opulus. Arxaro scrambled around the side and jumped into the driver¡¯s seat, snatching up Iphik¡¯s bag. He spared a grim look for the horses laying dead in their harnesses.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you leave us here,¡± Raela pleaded. ¡°You can¡¯t leave us here!¡±


    Arxaro¡¯s hard blue eyes centered on her, then dropped to her chains. The beast shrieked, and Opulus screamed.

 The Sprouting

    Grevail rocked on the floor of the cage as the wagon thumped across the bridge timbers over the Lukraesh river. The buzzing in his head had gone, as he feared it might, but the stench of spoiled wine still hung in the air¡ªalmost undetectable. The countryside beyond the bars of the cage brimmed with the bright growth of early spring.


    Joszi¡¯s maroon hat bobbed up and down with every stride of his mount at the front of the formation. Lyphon rode at his side now, though the Purifier would sometimes disappear for days at a time. The Thavan soldiers marching in loose ranks behind the Arbiter divided their time between singing and ribbing each other with crude jokes. The procession moved at a crawl since Grevail¡¯s capture and he worried that the stableman, whoever he really was, had gained a considerable lead. Joszi had not pushed for more speed, despite all of his talk about pursuing the relic.


    Thyma took a deep breath. ¡°I love the smell of the river.¡± She cast a look back at him from the wagon seat, white hair swirling around her head on a breeze.


    ¡°I do too,¡± he said. Thyma talked to him as if he were an old friend since he came to be in the cage. She talked to him even when he didn¡¯t respond, while the other Thavans in the caravan offered him little more than disgusted looks.


    ¡°Where did you say you were from?¡± she asked. ¡°I think Joszi said you were from the capital¡­yes, that¡¯s right. I¡¯ve been there a handful of times. What a wonderful city! Is that where you got that green thing in your ear? Is that the fashion there? What is that? Some kind of emerald?¡±


    Grevail turned his eyes over the river, wondering what his friends were doing when they crossed this bridge. He knew they had. ¡°It¡¯s an opal.¡±


    ¡°Of course, an opal! Beautiful!¡± She chuckled and fingered her own ear with a wrinkled hand. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have the courage to put a hole in my ear that big. I¡¯ve been to the Spindle islands! I saw a man hauling every color of opal you could imagine.¡± She mimed carrying a wheelbarrow. ¡°Some were as big as a cabbage! They weren¡¯t polished like the ones you see at the jewelers. Those ones were still rough and dirty. Hard to imagine they would be worth thousands of ess once cleaned up!¡±


    Amma trotted past the cage toward the head of the caravan. The woman watched him like a hawk with probing black eyes whenever he was in her sight, and questioned him more than Joszi did. There were questions Grevail wanted to ask her too¡ªthings only a Conveyor might know about that cube, and things he didn¡¯t dare ask Joszi. What did the stableman, or anyone else for that matter, want with his friends? What was this thing and why did it give him visions?


    ¡°That was a long time ago,¡± Thyma said, hooking stark white hair behind her ears. ¡°Long before I heard the call of the Paragons to cleanse my spirit. I was a much different person back then¡­a young girl looking for adventure.¡± She scoffed. ¡°I thought I knew everything! I went to look for Badhalf¡¯s treasure.¡± She turned and winked at him. ¡°Everybody thinks the treasure is in Badhalf¡¯s hills, but those hills have been combed over countless times for hundreds of years. Badhalf was a pirate, surely he buried it somewhere beside the sea? That¡¯s what I thought at the time anyway.¡±


    Badhalf, the Paragon of luck, was one of the few taboo Paragons the Thava tolerated but would never truly celebrate. After all, it was the Thava who raised an alliance of nations to hunt Badhalf and his pirate gang down hundreds of years ago, though they failed, but nobody really knew what happened for sure. Every sprout in Voxetta grew up on tales of Badhalf and his treasure, even those in Lowtown. Grevail would be a liar if he said he never dreamt of finding it himself. ¡°Where else did you look?¡±


    ¡°All over the south! I looked in the delta¡­in the Cappomaches¡­even explored the caves of Rivella. I went to Oronis and the islands but I never found so much as a single clue. All of that searching got me to thinking¡­maybe Badhalf escaped to Matara and buried it there?¡±


    Oronis. Grevail¡¯s favorite book, Ajaanraari and the Seawind was about Oronis. They wore silks there and worshiped the ocean. Giant storms around the island would sometimes surge onto land, carrying the sea with them. Raela taught him to read with that book. ¡°Matara? Nobody can go there, not even Badhalf.¡±


    Thyma nodded. ¡°Yes! Which is why it is the perfect place to hide a treasure isn¡¯t it? I¡¯ve heard the people there do not consider gold and jewels valuable. Think about it! If you were ever going to bury a treasure, there could be nowhere better!¡±


    ¡°So why did you stop looking?¡±


    An unusual, solemn note entered Thyma¡¯s voice. ¡°I met a man who said another Little Dark would soon arrive.¡± She glanced toward the sky as if the ash was just about to fall. ¡°Hasn¡¯t come yet, but it will one day. I knew then it was time to end my adventuring. I had never been Sacar, so I visited a Spiritkeep the first time. I even went to Volera and saw the most beautiful Spiritkeeps in all of Voxetta.¡±


    Sacar. That was what the Thava called those who followed the Accord¡ªthe rules the Thava claimed everyone must follow to make up for the Emberfolk¡¯s supposed misdeeds. Otherwise, they said, another Long Dark will come. Grevail never paid the Accord much mind, and to him, some of those rules were ridiculous¡ªlike not consuming food or drink when the Parents were on the horizon. Only the most dedicated Thava ever seemed to follow all of the Accord all the time. He glanced at the maroon and gold clad soldiers marching along with the wagon, wondering how many of them followed the Accord as it was written.


    Thyma chuckled, a rueful grin pulling at her lips. ¡°In Volera is where I met Joszi. He needed someone to drive his wagons¡ªoh that was¡­five summers ago? I jumped at the opportunity¡ªthere isn¡¯t much else for an old woman to do after all. I never developed a trade or had any skill but wandering around, if you call that a skill. I wanted to help in any way I could to make up for my ignorance. We must show Otash and Seren we have changed so there will never be another dark, long or little.¡±


    Grevail shook his head at the assuredness in her voice. It was said that the ancestors, the Emberfolk, were allowed to live on Voxetta by the Parents, Otash and Seren, on the condition that they would protect the Great Tree. When the Emberfolk failed and the tree was burned down by the first Stricken, Otash and Seren covered the world in ash as punishment. The last Emberfolk, a pregnant woman named Vibrin, cried for days in the pit left behind by the Great Tree, creating Vibrin¡¯s lake. Vibrin died then, but not before giving birth, and the Parents, upon witnessing her remorse, decided humanity may be worthy of salvation after all. To prove themselves better than the Emberfolk, Vibrin¡¯s children would have to rid the world of the Stricken and never commit the same misdeeds the Emberfolk did.


    Grevail never understood how anyone believed what the Thava said¡­well, not all of it. Nobody seemed to doubt the Long Dark happened, he didn¡¯t anyway, but how could the Thava know why it happened? Lots of people had theories of what happened before the Long Dark. He knew better than to ask Thyma these questions, and if Joszi heard, he might command the Keepers to cut wood for a pyre immediately. As the Arbiter already told him, there were only two ways a Cythraul could be purified¡ªin forswearance, or in flames.


    The wagon trundled southward on the highway¡ªa thin strip of civilization winding through the boundless wilderness like a stream down a mountain. Grevail found it intimidating. Raela read them many stories about wolves, bears, and Stricken, but Grevail never thought he would have to worry about such things. Those creatures were made up tales told to scare children¡ªmaybe not the wolves and bears, but the Stricken certainly were¡­or had been. It was quiet out here, especially at night. He was accustomed to the raucous streets of Lowtown or the calls of hawkers on Merchant Row.


    A while later, and much to Grevail¡¯s disappointment, the caravan stopped to water the horses at a stream. Amma came by his cage to ask more questions about the Emberstone. When was the last time he felt the itch? Had he felt anything else? Was he sure there isn¡¯t anything else she should know? She was convinced he was withholding information, and he was, but he still wouldn¡¯t tell her about the dream. He was tempted, if only for the slim chance she might know something about Emberstones and visions.


    After the respite, the caravan rolled onward, entering a thick forest. Near dusk, over the droning creak of Thyma¡¯s wagon, Grevail realized he heard singing. A disjointed and boisterous singing¡ªthe kind produced from too much drink. A gaggle of riders rounded a bend in the road ahead, swaying in their saddles and belting notes of a tune Grevail did not recognize, though some of the Keepers joined in. As the riders passed, they greeted the caravan with flush faces and inebriated smiles.


    Soon, even more people shared the road with them, until what began as a few turned into tens if not hundreds. Grevail stared at them streaming by in bewilderment. The handful that paid him any mind scowled at the cage, uttering a few choice words about Cythraul.


    The smell of woodsmoke and food was soon competing with the spoiled wine in his nose. Music and the murmur of crowds reached his ears through the trees. He stood to study the road, gripping the bars of the cage to stay upright in the swaying wagon. The caravan rounded a corner and ahead, the main street of a village stretched before them, writhing with revelers like an eel pit.


    Women corralled children amongst modest village homes while men wearing feathers in short conical hats toasted each other with foaming mugs and laughter. A man at the roadside chewing on a turkey leg watched the Thavan procession plod by in confusion. Two small boys darted into the Thavan ranks, both with buckets in one hand and a long ladle in the other. One boy stuck his ladle into the bucket and used it to sling water at the other. They laughed as if it were the funniest thing and ran after each other down the street.


    A pretty young woman with short brown hair smiled at Joszi and Lyphon before turning a grimace on Grevail. The infant in her arms wore a pair of wooden antlers and paint covered the child¡¯s face. Not far away, a man painted the face of another sprout to resemble a bear. They appeared unperturbed at the column of Thava marching into the village, in fact, most people seemed welcoming. He could only imagine what would happen if Joszi took his caravan into Lowtown. Grevail¡¯s cage seemed to draw every eye.


    ¡°I wonder what¡¯s going on?¡± he wondered.


    Thyma raised an eyebrow at him over her shoulder. ¡°You¡¯ve never seen the Sprouting before?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t have them often in the capital,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anyone paint their faces.¡±


    Thyma laughed. ¡°City folk don¡¯t celebrate it is as much¡­or in the same way, from my experience.¡± The old woman smiled at a girl, who recoiled at the sight of Thyma¡¯s white eye and ran to hide behind her mother¡¯s dress. Thyma appeared not to notice and tapped her foot to the sound of a lute, jiggling the reins in time to the music. ¡°It is one of my favorite celebrations¡­not the most favorite mind you, but maybe in my top five,¡± she said.


    ¡°Cythraul!¡±


    The shout took Grevail by surprise.


    A man beside the wagon raised a fist at the cage. ¡°Cythraul scum! The Thava will teach you, Stricken!¡± A woman at his shoulder pulled on the tall man¡¯s arm, hauling him from the wagon with a frown for Grevail, but other townsfolk were giving him dark looks too, some holding more than just disdain.


    ¡°No Cythraul in our town!¡± came another voice over the din of celebration.


    Joszi turned in the saddle, frowning at the wagon, but only motioned for Thyma to pick up the pace.


    Grevail crouched to huddle against the bars as more angry shouts were directed his way. Thyma flicked the reins to hurry the wagon along, and after another volley of curses from the townsfolk, Grevail breathed a sigh of relief when they were left behind. Thyma looked a bit ruffled, and her eyes looked sympathetic when they met his as she hurried the wagon along by snapping the reins. Grevail shook his head. It would be just his luck to be torn apart by a mob before he could even find his friends, though it might be a better end than whatever Joszi had planned for him.


    The thick crowd parted around the wagon and Grevail kept his head down, even while he searched for any clues to his friends in the passersby, however futile it seemed. Lyphon had tracked the stableman on the way south, confirming for Joszi the direction Grevail gave by gathering information in villages they passed. With this many people in town it would be a miracle if anyone remembered his friends.


    At the front of the column, Joszi waved at the throng of village people like a noble inspecting his lands. Some townsfolk asked if he would accept words for Aurin, the Paragon of the Sprouting festival, spring, motherhood, and rivers, among other things. The Arbiter declined the requests and continued winding down the main street of the village. The Keepers following him watched the festivities with obvious excitement, and some even took the opportunity to scamper from the formation toward stalls bearing festival food. Garlands and banners hung across buildings and ribbons were twirled around lamp posts in garish displays. The women wore necklaces of flowers while the men tucked feathers in hats or behind an ear.


    Grevail realized that the feeling in the air wasn¡¯t all celebration. He could sense that the cube turned right at the highway here and down a shady dirt street flanked by trees, but it must have come back. The sickly sweet odor still hovered in the air, but it was¡­newer, like a loaf of fresh bread next to a stale one. Yes, they turned off the highway, went down that street, then came back to go south again. What if the stableman did something to his friends here? What if they were still here?


    Joszi and Lyphon had halted in the road ahead, talking to each other amongst the swirling crowd from atop their mounts. The Arbiter rubbed at his mustache. ¡°Set up camp outside town,¡± he said. ¡°Everyone is welcome to take part in the festivities tonight. Then, come find me.¡±


    ¡°If the Paragons will it, Arbiter,¡± Lyphon said in a stoic voice, though his lips turned up at the order.


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    Grevail considered his options. What could he do if his friends were still here? He¡¯d need Joszi¡¯s help to free them. On the other hand, Joszi may simply send them all off to a work camp in the swamp without a second thought, and everyone knew that was as good as a cell in the Refuge. If either happened, they would probably never be seen again. He swallowed the urge to call the Arbiter¡¯s name.


    Thyma murmured polite greetings to those who stepped aside to let the wagon pass as the caravan pushed further into town. They continued until they were just outside the village on the other side and the throng had thinned to a trickle of excited festival goers. The head of the caravan snaked off the road and into a pasture of tall grass.


    After finding a spot for her wagon among the flurry of Keepers erecting tents, Thyma hopped down and set up her own. Grevail sat silently in the cage with little else to do but watch as the Keepers left camp for town. Eventually, Thyma finished with her own tent and straightened, rubbing at her back with a smile for Grevail. ¡°I¡¯m too old to be getting drunk, but I always have a mug during the Sprouting. Even so, I can¡¯t leave you starving now can I? I¡¯ll get you something to eat before I leave,¡± she said and wasted no time, disappearing among the tents.


    While waiting for her to return, night fell over Grevail¡¯s cage as the camp emptied further. The sound of celebration from the village came on a cool breeze across the field, now flowering with Thavan tents. That same breeze grew into a brief gust, rocking the padlock on the cage door. He turned to look at it. It was a rusty old thing. If he had something strong enough to fit in the keyhole he could probably break the mechanisms inside. It would be far from the first time he¡¯d done something like that, but did he dare attempt escape after what Joszi claimed would happen to his friends? He scoffed. He couldn¡¯t leave it up to a Thavan to help his friends.


    His stomach grumbled at the smell of food in the air. He watched the glowing lanterns and windows in the distance, wondering if his friends were really there. They could be scared, or hurt, or¡­he rubbed at the tears welling in his eyes. He¡¯d been such a fool. Raela¡¯s plea to leave the cube behind echoed in his mind.


    ¡°It gets better with time.¡± Thyma had appeared beside the wagon with a steaming bowl in each hand, pearly white hair bright even in the darkness. She stepped up to the cage and shoved them between the bars. ¡°You¡¯ve done the right thing in coming here.¡±


    He took them from her, mouth already watering at the aroma they emanated. One bowl contained beans and bits of cabbage in a tart brown sauce. The other, chunks of roast chicken. He began to eat as if it were as necessary and urgent as breathing. His mouth felt rough and dry around the moist food, but a comforting warmth spread through his body with every bite.


    ¡°It is tiring, bouncing along in this old wagon all day.¡± Thyma said, then drank from a mug, watching him over the rim.


    He paused while shoveling the spoon into his mouth. ¡°Thank you for the food, Thyma.¡±


    She shrugged and put a hand through the bars of the cage, placing it atop his knee. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± she said in heartfelt tones. ¡°When I came to serve the Paragons, I didn¡¯t have so much as one vita to my name. I might have been where you are now had things gone differently.¡±


    Grevail murmured his thanks again, unable to stop stuffing his mouth.


    Thyma took another long drink from her mug. ¡°So, what was it that brought you to our caravan? What made you decide to change? I know Joszi said that you were in the process of forswearing¡­your old ways¡­but it isn¡¯t right to let you go hungry. He¡¯s a good man, even if he doesn¡¯t think about much else other than rooting out Emberfolk relics and Breakers.¡±


    Did she think he was here of his own will? If she found out later that he wasn¡¯t, and for having the relic at that, would she have such compassion? He was already surprised she didn¡¯t despise him for being Cythraul as the other Thavans in the caravan seemed to. ¡°I thought it was my time,¡± he said. ¡°I hoped the Paragons could guide me¡­to¡­find something.¡±


    Thyma seemed to relate. ¡°I understand,¡± she said in a quiet voice. ¡°I¡¯ve been all over Voxetta¡­experienced so many things, but still it seemed I was missing something too. Perhaps I should have had children.¡± She grimaced with a half hearted laugh. ¡°Joszi doesn¡¯t always keep your kind around, you know. He must see something in you.¡±


    He sure does. ¡°Does Joszi find many Breakers?¡± Grevail asked.


    Thyma nodded. ¡°Always¡­wherever we go. Seems there are more of them than ever before.¡±


    Grevail was surprised by the worry wrinkling her face at the mention of Dawnbreakers, instead of the anger or disgust he expected. ¡°What do you think of Dawnbreakers?¡±


    She paused as if choosing her words. ¡°I think they are lost, like I used to be,¡± she said finally. ¡°Not that I was ever a Breaker, but I do think Joszi treats them harshly. Then again, it is important he does. If another Long Dark were to come¡­¡± she paused again. ¡°I wasn¡¯t completely honest with you earlier when I told you how I came to be here.¡± From her tone, it was obvious she was about to say something uncomfortable.


    The sadness that crumpled Thyma¡¯s face seemed such a foreign emotion for her to express. ¡°My brother went missing many years ago¡­some time after I left home. My parents searched endlessly, but they never found any clues to his whereabouts. I returned to visit now and again, ending my travels to see how they were. The last time I saw them, my father¡¯s spirit had passed on to the Shrove and mother wasn¡¯t far behind.¡± The sadness dissipated as Thyma¡¯s lips parted in a dry grin. ¡°Everyone was surprised my dad¡¯s ten days were uneventful.¡±


    Grevail nodded, as if he understood. The Thava always guarded graves¡ªdug them up sometimes too. They claimed graves had to be watched for ten days, otherwise the buried might rise, transformed into Stricken. If a grave remained undisturbed for ten days, that meant the buried had followed the Accord and their spirit was pure enough to pass on to the Shrove, an otherworldly place where everyone¡¯s ancestors lived. Grevail would have scoffed if not for Thyma. People in Lowtown never watched the dead nor let the Thava do it, and he had never seen a Stricken before that night at the tomb.


    Thyma¡¯s mirth faded as she went on. ¡°On one trip back home, I stumbled across my brother.¡± She shook her head and raised inward looking eyes to stare past Grevail. ¡°He was hardly recognizable. Old Esh¡­they become scaly with lots of extra skin, but I knew it was him. It was the eyes¡­they change too, but not that much. Luckily for me, he was alone and I jumped in a river to escape, otherwise I may have been his next meal.¡±


    ¡°He left with me with this.¡± She motioned at her white eye. ¡°He spit in my face. It burned like fire. Sometimes, I think whatever was left of him was cursing me for abandoning him. They say that¡¯s how you become an Esh yourself¡ªthrough the blood or spit, but it never happened to me. I stayed in the woods for days thinking the entire time I would become like he was.¡± Thyma exhaled with a shake of her head. ¡°I told everyone I fell in a fire drunk when they asked about the eye. I¡¯m surprised they believed it, but I doubt anyone would have believed the truth.¡±


    Grevail shivered, imagining what it must be like to see someone he once knew become the tortured, horrible creature he saw that night at the tomb.


    ¡°The truth is, there wasn¡¯t much left of my brother in that thing, but when I recovered, I knew I had to do something to help. If I hadn¡¯t went off exploring the world and left him behind, perhaps he would still be alive today with a family of his own. If only I had done something.¡±


    Her final words struck Grevail as if they were an accusation. If only he had done something. If only he had thrown the relic away like Raela wanted. If only he hadn¡¯t pushed them into going to the tomb. If only¡­if only. Now, he was stuck in this cage, and his friends could be just down the road.


    With a beleaguered sigh, he scraped the spoon at the bottom of the bowl, digging out the last of the beans hiding there. The wind picked up again, rattling the padlock against the cage as he brought the spoon to his face. He paused, glancing over his shoulder at the lock. He would bet all the ess in the world the handle of the spoon would fit in that keyhole. He gulped down the last of the beans, returning his gaze to Thyma.


    She drank from her mug, then looked into it as if she could find some comfort inside.


    Grevail slipped the spoon under his rump, then stacked the bowls atop one another and slid them toward her. ¡°If I deserve a second chance, Thyma, then you do too.¡±


    Thyma gave a start, as if she¡¯d forgotten he was there. A smile curved her lips, revealing brown, stained teeth. ¡°You¡¯re right. Well, that¡¯s enough sadness¡­tonight is a time of celebration,¡± she said, eyeing the night, ¡°and forgiveness.¡± She reached into the cage and grabbed the bowls. ¡°A shame you can¡¯t come with us into town, but next year you¡¯ll have made enough progress in your forswearance. I¡¯ll see you in the morning.¡±


    Grevail kept his eyes on hers, breathing a sigh of relief when she turned and headed further into camp. Hopefully she wouldn¡¯t realize the spoon was missing and come back. After some time, when she did not return, he crawled to the cage door on his knees. Every Keeper was at the festival and the camp was empty as it would ever be. Sticking his arm through the bars, he grabbed the padlock and brought the spoon handle to it. Don¡¯t drop it, Grevail. If that happened, there would be no hope of escape tonight, and he doubted there would be another chance, especially if they found the spoon in the grass below the wagon. The fires scattered around the tents provided enough faint light to insert the handle into the keyhole.


    He wrenched the pewter spoon back and forth, careful not to break it. The lock creaked and groaned as he worked, and the spoon bent and twisted but remained in one piece. Every few moments he paused to scan the maroon and gold tents staked in loose rows and stretching into the night, but nothing moved. Eventually, after much wrangling, he got what he wanted. The spoon neck had become wedged into the lock, and he was sure that something would probably break if he applied enough force. He just hoped it was the lock instead of the spoon. He strained, putting all the strength he could muster into the handle from his awkward position. The spoon wavered, but he pressed on and then with a loud clang, it snapped in two, tumbling from his fingers.


    Grevail looked for the spoon in the grass below wagon, though he had no hope of reaching it. Unable to spot it, he issued a curse and raised his eyes. The lock was hanging open. Recovering from his surprise, he spared a quick glance around before taking it from the door and dropping it into the grass. Pushing the door open, he slipped to the ground, and with no Thava in sight, scurried from the wagon toward the nearby cover of the tents. He sneaked down the row cautiously, freezing at every noise even if he spotted no guards patrolling the darkness. After all, there was little for them to guard against here at the Sprouting festival of a Eudan village. One tent emitted the loud snore of the Keeper inside, but no cry was raised as Grevail sneaked from the camp into the night.


    When he reached the highway beyond the tents, he found a good number of festival-goers still walking into town, and scampering from the into the road, did his best to blend in as they walked toward the sound of celebrations. Ahead, the main street of the town glowed in the night.


    The throng thickened as he entered the first houses, and he kept a careful eye out for any red and gold, though with so many people here, any Thava were unlikely to recognize him unless he walked right into one. Grevail had seen Sprouting festivals before, but none of those reminded him of what he saw here. Clumps of revelers danced in swirling eddies in the stream of people moving around them. A man in the seat of a carriage led by two fine horses stood and bellowed for people to move out of the way with little effect.


    ¡°Did you hear about what they found outside of town?¡± a nearby man asked another.


    ¡°My wife¡¯s sister saw it. She said it was like a butcher¡¯s shop.¡±


    The other man gave a grim shake of his head. ¡°My cousin saw it too. Who could do such a thing? You¡¯d expect that sort to happen in Tamirra or Eudan, but not here!¡±


    The sweet reeking smell of the relic led Grevail down the main street, past shops and festival games, right toward a wooden platform in the road atop which a musician troupe played. Women sent brightly colored dresses swirling and spinning, dancing to fast, whimsical music. One man played a flute while another struck some kind of dulcimer, and yet another woman plucked a guitar.


    The road he thought his friends went down would be on the other side of the platform. Villagers were pressed shoulder to shoulder here and he briefly considered going around, but discarded the idea. Lots of people would be better to hide in, and if there were any clues to be found it would be along the scent of the relic. He pushed into the throng with apologies, but as he did, the music on the stage died, producing annoyed groans from the crowd.


    A very tall man with a short black beard and a conical cap ascended the dais. He was followed by three figures covered head to toe in sheer green cloth so that none of their person was visible. The man turned to address the villagers.


    "During Aurin¡¯s sprouting¡­" he began, pausing for the crowd to quiet, ¡°¡­we celebrate the spring and all that it brings. The growth of plants, animals, and the rains."


    "Who are they, Marsham!" someone shouted, and a warm chuckle rippled through the audience.


    "Well...would you really like to know?" the man on stage asked.


    ¡°Tell us who!¡± screamed a woman.


    Grevail didn¡¯t care what this was all about. His friends could be here. Pushing forward, he made his way further into the press of villagers, coming closer to the stage and the people atop it.


    A young woman stepped in his path and motioned toward the stage. ¡°Would you like to dance?¡±


    ¡°Dance?¡± Grevail asked.


    ¡°Yes, dance.¡± she emphasized the word as if Grevail had never heard it before. Her deep brown eyes studied him over a wide, toothy grin. ¡°Come on!¡±


    ¡°No¡­I¡¯m sorry¡­I mean¡­thanks¡­no, I meant¡­no thanks,¡± Grevail said.


    The young woman¡¯s brows rose curiously over eyes that looked at Grevail as if there might be something wrong with him, but then gave a slight shrug of her shoulders and dove into the festival-goers where she found another young man who accepted her offer. Together, they headed toward the stage.


    Marsham quieted the crowd again by flapping his arms. He built the anticipation with a few moments of silence. "The first daughter is...Belene Shirdi!" He ripped the sheet off the first figure, revealing a young woman with frizzy brown hair balling around her head. The girl¡¯s brown eyes widened as the crowd loosed a thunderous roar at the sight of her. She looked at her feet, a shy smile creeping across her lips at the response.


    Marsham did the same with the next two sheet wrapped figures, both young women, and both attained the same reaction from the crowd. "There are your daughters of Aurin. Now, might we have any dashing young Darunens in the crowd?" With that, young men bobbed up and down, some raising hands while others rushed toward the stage. Marsham picked three who went up on stage with the young women to stand beside them.


    "Enjoy the night, dear residents of Esiphon! We¡¯ve earned it!" He waved to the musicians and jumped off the stage. The troupe started up in a different, feverishly fast, fun song. The three pairs of young people began a quick flashing dance. The women¡¯s skirts created vibrant explosions as they whirled in the men¡¯s arms, kicking legs in beat to the song. The crowd roared back to life, cheering and doing dances of their own.


    ¡°Daughters of Aurin?¡± Grevail murmured to himself, searching for an easy path through the wall of bodies.


    "The daughters of Aurin," a slurred voice said beside him. Grevail found a short and fat man swaying at his shoulder, bloodshot eyes on the stage. "Every year the Alderman...hic...picks out three of the most eligible...girls for marriage...and they dance in the street there with every unmarried man...hic¡­they can¡­until...until they are too tired to go on!"


    The daughters of Aurin moved off the stage and into the crowd.


    "Maybe we could get...hic...a drink?" The man edged closer until the ale on his breath was sour in Grevail¡¯s nose. "I don''t have any coin now...but I...hic..."


    "Maybe some other time,¡± Grevail grumbled and shouldered his way toward the stage.


    Ahead of him, the crowd flowed around knots of writhing dancers. He had never seen a dance like this before. People in Lowtown danced all the time, sometimes late into the night with drink to keep them going, but he was never one to join. That was the kind of thing for Tessyn and Adellus.


    The acrid sweet scent led him forward and he followed, pushing through a ring of villagers surrounding several pairs of dancers. The men twirled the women, sometimes lifting them off the ground, much to the delight of the onlookers who cheered and egged the couples on. A pair of dancers circled toward Grevail as he moved along the edge of the crowd. He recognized the young woman who¡¯d asked him to dance earlier, now in the arms of a man in a black, broad-brimmed hat with dark wavy hair to his shoulders and a¡ªIphik!


    The Sifter¡¯s eyes locked with Grevail¡¯s and widened in recognition. Iphik stumbled with the girl in his arms and they both crashed to the ground in a heap. The crowd erupted in jeers and laughter with some villagers rushing to help get the Sifter and the young woman back on their feet. Grevail dove into the crowd, shoving anyone out of his way who didn¡¯t move fast enough.


    Shooting a glance over his shoulder, he saw Iphik¡¯s black leather hat spinning over the heads of the townsfolk around him, but Grevail wasted no time in creating as much distance as he could between them. He kept an eye out for Grix, but saw no evidence of the tall Sifter who would stand at least a few hands above most everyone else. Spotting an alleyway ahead, he ducked out of the crowd into it.

 Purifier

    Grevail crept into the shadows at the mouth of an alley. Revelers swamped the street here too, but fewer than where the stage was. He saw no sign of the Sifters in the crowds of smiling village folk. They must have followed the caravan, but Grevail could only wonder what plan they might have beside steal the Emberstone.


    He pushed the Sifters from his mind and instead focused on the task at hand¡ªfinding his friends. Far down the street, two Keepers walked along, though thankfully heading away from him. Grevail took a deep breath and slipped out of the alley, keeping as far from the swirling crowd as he could by hugging the garland draped buildings along the street edge.


    As he continued, he drew on his experience eluding the watch in Merchant Row to avoid the eyes of curious partiers. Luckily, the villagers seemed much more interested in enjoying the celebration than questioning a strange young man slinking around in the shadows, especially on a night when strangers were not so strange. The sickly sweet scent grew stronger as he came to the highway, where on the other side sat the dark tree-lined road his friends must have went down.


    Ducking his head through the mass of village folk he crossed the highway bathed in Arulan¡¯s light and eased into the darkness beneath the canopy arcing over the street. He released a breath as he wandered away from the moving bodies and noise of the road, confident that at least the Sifters would not venture down here looking for him. He couldn¡¯t stand idly by any longer, especially when clues to his friends whereabouts were within reach...just down this road.


    He jumped at every shadow beneath the trees, but the few people roaming the night here showed little interest in him, if they noticed at all. He came to a large building behind a tall fence where the smell of horse manure was thick, as was spoiled wine. The relic must have stopped here for some time. How long, he couldn¡¯t be sure, but longer than if it just passed by. Did the stablehand work here too? Surely the stablehand didn¡¯t kidnap his friends and attack Sifters just to sell the wagon and horses. He moved toward the fence to search for a way inside.


    ¡°They¡¯re not here,¡± came a voice behind him.


    Grevail whirled, nearly tripping over his own feet. Lyphon stood in the moon dappled darkness a few paces away, but to Grevail¡¯s surprise, the Purifier remained motionless, studying Grevail with stoic, knowing blue eyes.


    ¡°How do you know?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve asked,¡± the Purifier said, eyeing the stable and resting a hand atop the sword hilt at his waist. ¡°It must be true then, you can sense that relic. I don¡¯t know how else you¡¯d find your way here.¡± A smile seemed to curve Lyphon¡¯s lips, though it was hard to tell in the dark. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you escaped the cage, and I certainly didn¡¯t think you¡¯d escape those Sifters so easily after bumbling right into one. Those years in Lowtown helped you avoid them, but you¡¯ll have to do much better if you want to avoid me.¡±


    He was smiling, Grevail realized.


    The smile vanished from Lyphon¡¯s face as he stepped forward into a pale shaft of moonlight. ¡°I have an important task¡­and I¡¯ll need your help. In exchange¡­I¡¯ll overlook your little outing tonight.¡± The Purifier¡¯s skeptical eyes weighed Grevail like he was a horse at auction.


    ¡°Me?¡± Grevail ran a hand through his hair. He couldn¡¯t believe Lyphon hadn¡¯t hauled him back to camp by now, and found himself even more surprised the man wanted to make some kind of agreement. ¡°How am I supposed to help you?¡± Is this a setup? A game? What does he think I¡¯m going to do? Hunt Esh with him?


    ¡°The stableman was here, or so the villagers said, but he moved on well before we arrived. I want to travel ahead on the highway to see if the relic stayed on it, or¡­if you prefer¡­we can return to Joszi and tell him what you¡¯ve been up to.¡±


    Grevail swallowed. If you wanted to get locked up forever, this would be a good way to do it, fool. ¡°Lead the way.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Lyphon said as if there¡¯d been no other possibility and waved Grevail to follow. The Purifier returned to the highway, bronze sallet helmet bouncing on his hip. Lyphon¡¯s brown stallion loomed out of the darkness where it was tied to a tree at the roadside, switching its tail and nibbling on a clump of grass between the roots. Lyphon mounted and offered him a hand to climb up behind him. When Grevial was seated, Lyphon kicked the horse into a canter.


    They maneuvered through the thinning crowd and clumps of departing revelers on the way out of Esiphon. One by one, the villagers turned down rutted dirt tracks fading into the night, leaving Grevail and Lyphon alone far outside of town.


    The eerie and dark fields held no sign of life as they went south. Lyphon remained silent, though his head turned to consider every sound¡ªany hint of movement. The Purifier radiated tenseness, rolling his shoulders and grumbling at the night. They traveled in silence for some time with no other sound than the thud of horse hooves in the dirt.


    Why is he bringing me all the way out here? It was possible that the stableman did leave the highway, but Grevail couldn¡¯t understand why. From what he remembered of maps he¡¯d seen, there wasn¡¯t anything out here but forest and swamp. Had the Purifier heard something in town about his friends that would lead him to believe such a thing? ¡°You think they left the highway?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll know when we get there¡­if what you claim is true,¡± the Purifier said over the sound of his bronze sallet helmet clinking against the straps of the saddle.


    Grevail restrained a growl. The man wouldn¡¯t tell him anything worth knowing. All he wanted was that damn relic. The sound of the helmet clanking with every step of the horse made him want to grind his teeth. He had never seen the Purifier without it. ¡°Do you have that helmet because you think you¡¯re going to be fighting something all the way out here?¡± Grevail asked, failing to keep the mocking tone from his voice.


    Lyphon snorted. ¡°I always have it with me. The Stricken can be anywhere¡­at any time.¡±


    ¡°You need that for the Stricken? Is that why it is bronze? I¡¯ve seen plenty of soldiers in the capital and none of them ever had a bronze helmet.¡±


    ¡°Some Stricken can read your mind,¡± he said, his voice taking on a hard edge. ¡°Do you think the Stricken are real? I know many who do not, city folk usually. Some even think I¡¯m a myth.¡±


    Grevail frowned and resisted the urge to tell him about the Esh at the tomb. Reading minds? Grevail knew now that tales weren¡¯t always just tales, but that seemed far fetched. ¡°I¡¯m from the city, but I¡¯m no fool. You can¡¯t sell me a patch of swamp and call it a Hightown lot.¡±


    ¡°I know. You are from Lowtown. You steal from those people with a Hightown lot. I prefer that, if you didn¡¯t know. There are many different types of thieves, scamp. Some, like yourself, skirt the law. Others¡­the worst kind¡­they disregard the law.¡±


    Lyphon paused, as if waiting for Grevail to respond, but then went on. ¡°I¡¯ve met rich merchants and nobles who know nothing of what a Purifier does or about what we keep from their doorsteps. They think I¡¯m a liar when I tell them, much like you probably do. Sometimes, I wish the Stricken would return. Nobody could excuse it as nonsense from a Thavan with no use, as they usually do.¡±


    Anger flooded over Grevail at the man¡¯s condescending tone. I don¡¯t want to be here. I don¡¯t want to know anything about you, Thavan, or the Stricken. ¡°You Thava know everything, don¡¯t you? If someone doesn¡¯t listen to you, you¡¯ll call them Cythraul and dig up the graves of their family.¡±


    Lyphon noted the scorn on Grevail¡¯s tongue with a shake of his head. ¡°Count yourself lucky if I don¡¯t repeat some of what you say to Joszi,¡± he threatened. ¡°Yes, we believe Otash and Seren turned the Emberfolk to Stricken for their misdeeds, just as they do to Cythraul. What do you believe? Do you believe like the Dawnbreakers? Do you believe the Emberfolk fled from the Stricken into the sea¡­to Eldimirian?¡± he finished with a snicker.


    Grevail shifted on the horse, reining in his tongue. The last thing he needed was for Joszi to know what happened here tonight. ¡°I¡¯m not a Dawnbreaker. Only they know what they believe.¡±


    Lyphon scoffed. ¡°I wonder if they know that Esh can sense living things over vast distances? That¡¯s how they find fresh meat.¡±


    Sense living things? Grevail remembered the Esh that followed them from the tomb entrance. He wondered afterward how the thing managed to track them through the rain that night. He shook his head. Sense people, not read minds. If she could read minds, she would have followed us all the way home. ¡°I¡¯ve seen Esh before.¡±


    Lyphon chuckled, bemused. ¡°I¡¯m sure that you have. A dead Esh was found at the tomb you claim to have never visited. I saw the tracks of one that left there with my own eyes¡­following in the footprints of a band of at least three, maybe four. They were wearing poor shoes, not made for trekking through swamp¡­the kind Lowtown scamps might wear.¡±


    Grevail¡¯s breath caught, then his anger boiled over again. ¡°So why is your helmet bronze? You said it was because Stricken could read minds, now you are saying they can sense living things. Which one is it?¡±


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you made the distinction.¡± A long breath left Lyphon. ¡°Esh sense living things, but Aelfic can read your mind¡­control it too. A Shimmerbeast will know what you¡¯re going to do before you do. The helmet helps protect against it.¡±


    ¡°Aelfic? Is it true they can fly?¡±


    Lyphon snorted. ¡°Fly?¡±


    ¡°Yes, and¡ª¡°


    ¡°And they can turn food to gold by staring at it?¡± Lyphon finished for him. ¡°I suppose you also believe they are so beautiful they can hypnotize any man or woman? They can look like anything they want, that¡¯s what makes them so dangerous. Do they smell like sage? Or perhaps it is tar? I¡¯ve heard people claim both, and many other things besides.¡±


    Grevail tried to ignore the heat in his cheeks. ¡°How does your helmet help you fight them?¡±


    Lyphon laughed when Grevail avoided his questions and shrugged. ¡°No one is certain, but many think some metals interrupt their powers¡­or at least weaken them.¡±


    ¡°I heard once that Purifiers can sense Stricken. Is that true? Maybe you and Esh aren¡¯t so different?¡±


    Lyphon responded with a rueful shake of his head. ¡°Said the scamp who claims he can sense an Emberfolk relic. Maybe you¡¯re not so different from us either.¡± He half turned in the saddle, sweeping up the amulet laying against his chest. ¡°With this I can.¡± Inscribed into the thick, diamond-shaped silver amulet were two crossed swords behind the Thavan lantern and flame.


    Grevail furrowed his brow at it. ¡°How does it work?¡±


    ¡°Now that is a secret, but suffice to say, our enemies make us stronger.¡±


    Grevail puzzled over Lyphon¡¯s cryptic statement for a moment, but did not understand what the man meant. ¡°If Stricken are such a threat, why does everyone think they are tales made to scare children? Why aren¡¯t they everywhere?¡±


    Lyphon sighed, as if pitying Grevail¡¯s ignorance. ¡°Once, everybody knew why we wore bronze and copper. Everybody knew the powers Stricken had over the mind. Now, only rural peasants know much at all, and they are vilified if they so much as utter a word about the Stricken. We¡¯ve grown soft, and if they ever come back, we will not be prepared.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean if they come back?¡± Like most people, he thought Esh were a fairytale before that night at the tomb. He¡¯d never seen one, and everyone he ever knew had never seen one. Whenever someone claimed they had, they were likely just telling stories.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d be giving a history lesson to a¡­¡± Lyphon paused to clear his throat. ¡°In the past, many hundreds of years ago when ash still fell from the sky, the Stricken were everywhere. Cities were fortresses under siege from their filth. Over centuries, the Thava have cleansed Voxetta so that we can travel along this highway in relative peace. But now, there are more Cythraul than ever, more Dawnbreakers than I remember in my lifetime. More and more, people forget what life was once like. They forget our commitment to the Parents and the Accord. Now, I fear they will return.¡±


    Grevail furrowed his brow. He¡¯d never heard any of that before. ¡°All the Dawnbreakers and Cythraul will make the Stricken return?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard too much of late to take anything lightly. Stricken have appeared in places they haven¡¯t been in hundreds of years, lots of them, and not out in the hills, but near cities and towns. Something is happening. We¡¯d be fools to ignore it¡ª¡± the Purifier went quiet.


    Grevail peeked around Lyphon¡¯s shoulder. Ahead, down a long and dark stretch of road, the orange glow of a large fire pushed back the night. A group of human-shaped shadows stood beside a huge lick of flame at the edge of the highway. Grevail realized it was a wagon as they came closer¡ªa bonfire on wheels.


    Lyphon halted his mount a good distance from the blaze. The villagers regarded them in silence, neither moving or voicing a greeting. Lyphon dismounted and helped Grevail down.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Grevail asked.


    Lyphon shook his head, as if he was unsure himself, or as if he didn¡¯t want to say. ¡°Do you sense anything?¡±


    Grevail began to say he didn¡¯t, but at that moment realized he did. The smell of spoiled wine was¡­thicker. The relic had spent some time in this place. ¡°It stopped here.¡±


    Lyphon loosed an uncomfortable sigh, like a man forced to do something unwanted and waved Grevail after him.


    The villagers watched Lyphon approach, wary eyes lingering on the sword at his hip, but the Purifier jerked to a stop over a broken board laying in the dust of the road. Tilting his head, he studied it and mumbled under his breath as if it were something he¡¯d never seen before. He knelt and brought the board to his nose, inhaling sharply.


    Grevail crinkled his own nose. ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    Lyphon shoved the board under Grevail¡¯s face. ¡°Do you see them?¡±


    Glowing in Arulan¡¯s light, long and delicate white hairs were snagged on the board, wafting on the night air.


    ¡°A Shimmerbeast has no eyes,¡± the Purifier said. ¡°Instead, it uses these long hairs to judge currents of air, down to the smallest of movements, like that of its prey. Because of this, they are most often found in caves or deep forest and only venture outside of those areas when there is little wind.¡± Lyphon plucked one free and after studying it between his fingers, released it to the breeze. It floated lazily, like a wriggling translucent worm until it was swept away. ¡°Worth a lot of money to Dawnbreakers, whatever they use it for.¡±


    Grevail turned his gaze on the fields stretching into darkness. A Shimmerbeast! Ash and embers!


    Lyphon judged Grevail¡¯s reaction with a stoic grunt and dropped the board. ¡°Do you think they are real now, scamp? Do you quiver from laughter?¡± The Purifier turned and walked toward the villagers. ¡°What happened here?¡± he said to be heard above the fire.


    An older man with dull gray hair and a full beard spoke, pulling his brow down. ¡°You don¡¯t want to know, sir. It¡¯s best for you to be on your way.¡±


    Lyphon walked closer and Grevail stayed at his side, casting worried looks into the surrounding fields. Shimmerbeasts were made of smoke and tall as trees. They could be everywhere at once¡­or so Raela¡¯s books said.


    The Purifier motioned at the wagon. ¡°I heard rumors in town. I want to help.¡±


    A young woman at the old man¡¯s shoulder turned incredulous brown eyes from the blaze. ¡°Help?¡± Her gaze fell to Grevail. ¡°With him?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a Sifter. He is my apprentice.¡± Lyphon said in a gruff tone, as if it were none of the woman¡¯s business.


    The old man shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t think your abilities will help you here, Sifter. Whoever did this is long gone.¡±


    Lyphon folded his arms across his chest. ¡°Tell me. I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡±


    The old man stared at Lyphon a moment longer, then shrugged. ¡°Well, I suppose if anybody can help it would be you.¡± He sighed and grimaced at the night. ¡°Damned if I know what happened¡­I¡¯m not sure I want to know. I¡¯ve never seen anything like it¡­and I¡¯ve been the undertaker all my life. There wasn¡¯t much left of the bodies, the only thing we could think to do was burn it all and be rid of it.¡±


    ¡°A good idea,¡± Lyphon said.


    The old man raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°The burning.¡± Lyphon gestured to the fire. ¡°With no one to guard the bodies, they may well have turned to Stricken if they¡¯ve been left out for too long.¡±


    The old man appeared unconvinced, glancing at the helmet on Lyphon¡¯s hip. ¡°So the Thava say. I don¡¯t think it happened long ago, maybe a day or two at most.¡±


    Lyphon nodded. ¡°I suppose an undertaker like yourself would know.¡±


    The old man raised a gnarled, calloused hand to rub at his brow. ¡°Something needed to be done and Marsham came to me with the job. Still the undertaker even after all these years. If this keeps up, maybe I¡¯ll buy some land like I¡¯ve always thought about. I¡¯d rather dig a furrow for sprouting life than a grave for concealing death.¡± He grunted with a shake of his head. ¡°Always work for an undertaker, even during the Sprouting.¡±


    ¡°What did you find?¡±


    ¡°Parts¡­¡± the old man said with a frown. ¡°The wagon was covered in blood, the ground all around it too. So much blood. There were chains in the wagon, along with a few dead horses still in their harnesses¡­or what was left of them. We can¡¯t be sure how many dead there are, but we found seven hands. Up near a small hill over there, we found the body of blond girl. Found a redhead too, well¡­just the head, but nobody seems to know who they are. Folk coming in for the festival passed the wagon but nobody wanted to go near it, covered in flies and stinking to death in the heat as it was.¡±


    ¡°Where did you find the¡­parts?¡±


    The old man gestured at the fields around them. ¡°Out there. We collected them and put them in the fire. Whatever happened here¡­whoever or whatever did this¡­I just wanted to be rid of it.¡±


    Lyphon nodded, wrapping a fist around the amulet on his chest.


    Grevail¡¯s eyes followed the Purifier¡¯s into the fields, trying to swallow away the apple sized lump in his throat.


    ¡°One man who passed by on his way to the Sprouting mentioned strange footprints in the road,¡± the old man said, pointing at the ground. ¡°But when we got here, there were none to be found. Likely swept away by the wind.¡±


    Grevail dropped his gaze. Shimmerbeast footprints? He shuddered, imagining what kind of feet a creature like that would have. Could something made of smoke even leave footprints? A glint of metal caught his eye, strobing in the light from the fire, as if something were buried just beneath the soft dirt of the road. He knelt and studied what looked like the edge of a coin. After sweeping away the soil, his mouth went dry. It was the coin Dell kept from the tomb. The angular symbols stamped into the perimeter were obvious as the dirt fell away. A terrible tightness crept across his chest and it seemed as if an huge weight were pressing him into the ground.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Lyphon appeared at Grevail¡¯s shoulder, staring at the coin with a fist still wrapped around his amulet.


    Grevail¡¯s eyes burned. His heart hammered against his chest like it was trying to escape. A wave of dizziness swept over him and he put a hand to his forehead. ¡°It belonged to my friend,¡± he grunted. A girl with blond hair. A redhead, too.


    Lyphon¡¯s eyes raised from the coin and studied Grevail¡¯s face. His features softened and a gentle sigh escaped his lips. ¡°They could still be alive,¡± he suggested.


    ¡°How? You heard what he just said.¡±


    ¡°Is the relic still here?¡±


    ¡°Who cares about that damn relic!¡± Grevail growled.


    Lyphon paused, as if he were choosing his words. ¡°If it isn¡¯t here, your friends might have went with it.¡±


    Grevail walked from the bonfire, sensing that the trail continued. ¡°No, it is gone.¡±


    Lyphon stopped Grevail with a hand on his shoulder. ¡°If the stableman escaped with it your friends could still be alive.¡±


    ¡°How do we know somebody else didn¡¯t take it?¡±


    ¡°That fellow said nobody wanted to go near this with...¡± Lyphon paused whatever else he was about to say with another long look at Grevail.


    Grevail wanted to throw the coin at his face. ¡°I would have been with them if it wasn¡¯t for you!¡±


    ¡°What would you have done?¡±


    ¡°I could have done something,¡± he said, fighting the wetness growing in his eyes.


    Lyphon shook his head and tuned his voice to a whisper. ¡°Against a Shimmerbeast, Grevail, there is little you could have done. You must have hope that the Paragons protected your friends. They are still alive.¡±


    ¡°What do you care? All you want is that cube. My friends mean nothing to you.¡±


    A frown turned Lyphon¡¯s lips. ¡°True¡­I do seek the relic, but I never wanted anything to happen to your friends¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not helping you find anything! My friends are dead!¡±


    Lyphon leveled a serious gaze at Grevail. ¡°There are two possibilities, scamp. The first is that the stableman and your friends are dead and the relic is lost forever.¡±


    Grevail clenched his jaw tight around a scream, fighting the sobs shaking his body. ¡°It is your fault! Not mine!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it is your fault,¡± Lyphon said. He softened his voice. ¡°The second possibility is that at least some of your friends or the stableman survived¡­and continued on with the relic.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t know that!¡± Grevail shouted. The villagers around the fire turned to stare at them but said nothing.


    ¡°Can you tell how long the relic was here? You say you know it stopped here, can you tell how long?¡± the Purifier asked.


    Grevail refused to answer, and with tears streaming down his cheeks, challenged the Purifier¡¯s gaze. You will pay Thavan! You will all pay for what you did!

 Tamirra

    ¡°We¡¯re getting close,¡± Thyma said and adjusted her broad brimmed straw hat.


    As they approached Tamirra, more and more farmsteads and buildings appeared along the highway. Grevail didn¡¯t know much about the town, other than what everyone else did. It was on the border with Uruca and whenever people talked about the civil war, they talked about Tamirra. He wiped the sweat from his brow, squinting up at the sky. Otash beamed down on him. The giant orange ball was orbited by a smaller, but just as radiant orb of blue-white that was his wife, Seren. There was no escape from their judgment in the cage. It was the first hot day of the year¡ªthe kind of unusual heat spring occasionally brought to Eudan.


    Thyma again ignored his silence. ¡°The caravan was here not long ago. I thought we would go north for the summer¡­we were in the south all winter. We were almost to the capital¡ªit¡¯s been ages since I¡¯ve been, but Joszi turned around as if an army of Breakers had been spotted.¡±


    Grevail assumed Joszi¡¯s change in direction was no coincidence. Lyphon must have alerted Joszi to the events at the tomb and then tracked the Sifters to the inn. The seething anger burning inside him flared whenever he looked in the Arbiter¡¯s direction or heard mention of his name.


    Thyma cast a concerned glance at him through the bars of the cage but didn¡¯t comment and instead continued to voice her thoughts, refusing to let him stew in peace. ¡°Tamirrans are not concerned with Breakers or even Stricken as much as they are elsewhere. The Urucan are the problem they want dealt with, and there isn¡¯t much we Thava can do about that. Even during the Sprouting, Tamirrans keep watch across the Phantha for Urucan.¡±


    After discovering the Shimmerbeast attack on Grevail¡¯s friends, Lyphon returned him to camp. The Purifier told Thyma he removed Grevail from the cage to give him lessons on the Paragons¡ªthe Sprouting was an apt time to do so, he claimed. Thyma had seemed to accept that answer, even as she watched Lyphon fit a new padlock on the door after ushering Grevail inside.


    A sharp bump in the road brought him from his thoughts. Thyma had not stopped her ramblings. ¡°A reasonable person might think no grudge could last so long. The civil war was a hundred and fifty years ago after all, but on the other side of the Phantha is Uruca. Many folk have family on both banks. Emotions still run hot over what happened all those years ago.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been to Uruca. Have you?¡± she asked, then went on without a pause. ¡°On this side of the river, people say they are ten feet tall, hairy and fierce as bears.¡± She shook her head. ¡°They are no different from anyone else, but they do love war, the Urucan. After the Prosperity Coalition and so many years of peace the Toads must be itching for a fight.¡±


    Toads? Grevail resisted the urge to tell her to be quiet. He moved again to wipe the sweat from his brow but stopped. The buzzing was back. The scratching slither on the inside of his skull was pointing him south. It was faint and distant, more nebulous than he remembered, but it was there. A rush of relief overtook him as he realized he could find the relic, but it was then swept away by yet more anger.


    He would find the stableman, and whoever else was responsible for what happened to his friends. He would have his revenge. The stableman led them right into the jaws of a Shimmerbeast, and if Joszi wouldn¡¯t have been so slow¡­so careless, Raela, Dell and Tessyn would still be alive. If I didn¡¯t push them into stealing this relic¡­ He tossed the thought away. They would pay for what they did.


    His gaze strayed to Amma riding behind them. He¡¯d thought long and hard about what he would do when this moment arrived. Did he tell the Thava where the cube was? If he wanted revenge, he couldn¡¯t think of any other way to do it. Joszi might kick down the door of wherever the stableman was hiding in rabid pursuit of the relic before it could bring another Long Dark.


    Standing on his knees in the cage, he waved his hands over his head. Amma took her gaze from the scenery long enough to notice him and kicked her horse toward the wagon, bringing the mount to a walk behind it.


    ¡°What is it?¡± she asked, drawing her brow down at him.


    ¡°It¡¯s in Tamirra,¡± he whispered. Thyma never turned around, but at this point, he didn¡¯t care if she heard.


    Amma¡¯s eyes widened and she wasted no time heeling her horse toward the front of the column and Joszi.


    Joszi¡¯s giant maroon hat rotated to the Conveyor when she pulled beside him. They spoke briefly, Joszi casting a glance toward Grevail, then Amma returned. ¡°Tell me immediately if you sense anything,¡± she commanded as she fell in behind the wagon.


    Grevail sneered at her command. If he saw the chance, they would all pay for what happened to his friends.


    The wagon crested a hill and the large stone wall of Tamirra rose from a flat plain like a giant wave crashing down on a smattering of huts outside the city. The river rock battlements formed a collage of colors from red to gray, joined by thick lines of white mortar and a steady stream of people moved through the square gatehouse. The trail of the cube went right toward the open mouth of the gate, but the itch pointed him further north, toward the towering walls of the city.


    As they rode into the jumble of buildings near the gate, townspeople occasionally waved at Joszi and called out to him. ¡°Give my beseechings to Aurin! My crops need rain!¡± bellowed one bronzed farmer from the steps of a tavern. A flag with the image of a toad impaled by a sword hung on the wall behind him. Words at the bottom read, ¡®Not then! Not now!¡¯.


    ¡°Even after all these years,¡± Thyma said with gentle scoff, looking at the flag.


    At a signal from Lyphon, many of the Thavan soldiers broke from the procession and moved toward the shops and taverns along the street. Grevail wondered where they were all going and why Joszi wasn¡¯t camping outside of town like he usually did. Surely he wouldn¡¯t cough up the ess to buy a room for all these Keepers. The few remaining wagons trundled onward toward the gate.


    ¡°Thavak! Thavak, I need the help of Siberus!¡± A woman in a tattered dress dashed into the road and fell to her knees in front of the column. Joszi jerked his mount to stop. She looked up at the Arbiter with crazed eyes in a filthy face.


    A man walking in the street stopped beside the woman, looking down at her. ¡°Can¡¯t you see the hat?¡± he said, gesturing at Joszi. The man shook his head, then spit on the ground. ¡°He¡¯s no Thavak, you loon!¡± He swept a handkerchief hanging from his coat pocket, embroidered with a purple rose, to wipe his mouth.


    Joszi spared a grimace for the man, who was already moving away, then turned his gaze to the woman cowering in the street. ¡°What is it?¡±


    The woman clenched her hands together and waddled forward on her knees. A necklace laced between the fingers of her fist dangled a pendant in the shape of a bear¡ªa manifest of Siberus, the Paragon of winter, dreams, and thought. ¡°Siberus! He must help me sleep! He must! He must! I need his help. I need him! I cannot sleep, not with the dreams I have!¡±


    Joszi raised a calming hand. ¡°I will see that Siberus knows of your plight when I next return to the Spiritkeep. He will help you sleep and guard your dreams.¡±


    The woman scrabbled forward further and clung to Joszi¡¯s stirrup. The Arbiter corralled his mount with a few words before digging into a pouch at his waist and extending a fist to the woman. ¡°Here, take this,¡± he said and dumped a pile of small bronze coins into her outstretched hand. Vita. Grevail saw them plenty in Lowtown, though that handful could hardly buy a roll of bread. The Thava sometimes gave them to the poor so they would have something to give back at a Spiritkeep.


    The woman stared at the coins in her hand and mumbled, as if in a trance. Joszi reached into his saddlebags and after some rifling around, produced a thin slip of paper that he also extended to her. ¡°Go to the nearest Spiritkeep and give them this. The Paragons will shepherd your spirit to the Shrove, Sacar.¡±


    The woman bobbed her head, and with the vita clutched tight, scampered from the road. Joszi kicked his horse into a walk and what remained of the caravan jolted forward after him. Grevail scowled at his back. Sacar was what the Thava called believers, those who followed the Accord and the Paragons. Compassion when there is someone to see it, lies when there is not.


    Joszi waved to acknowledge more calls as they went on, bulbous maroon hat rotating this way and that, but kept the caravan moving toward the gate. Those at the roadside followed the cage and Grevail with dark, suspicious stares. Some shouted curses and called him Cythraul, while one boy even threw a rock that clanged off the cage bars, then dashed out of sight before Thyma could raise her voice. Thankfully, most townsfolk didn¡¯t do much more than glare.


    After passing through the buildings scattered outside Tamirra¡¯s walls, the remainder of the procession meandered through the half-open portcullis of the gate. Lyphon appeared with Joszi at the front of the column, bald head swiveling as if spotting a threat in every person who passed.


    The tingling inside Grevail¡¯s skull had only intensified as they approached the city. It now slid over his mind to the right, and as it did, the faint, sickly sweet scent disappeared. He turned until the scratching rolled back across the inside of his head to the front and found himself looking down a street that paralleled the north wall.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    He motioned at Amma and pointed toward where he felt the itch guiding him. ¡°Down there.¡±


    ¡°Thyma,¡± Amma said, ¡°stop.¡±


    Thyma pulled on the reins as asked, craning her neck to give Amma a curious look.


    ¡°Joszi!¡± Amma called.


    Joszi and Lyphon reined in together, staring at Amma with questioning looks before spurring their mounts toward the wagon.


    Amma motioned toward where Grevail had indicated. ¡°It is down here.¡± Her dark eyes slid from Joszi back to Grevail where they narrowed in suspicion.


    Joszi nodded and ordered one of the few remaining Keepers to lead what was left of the caravan onward. ¡°Thyma, follow Amma please.¡±


    Amma heeled her horse down the street. Thyma pulled the reins to follow while Joszi and Lyphon rode on either side of the cage near Grevail.


    ¡°I do hope you are not playing games,¡± Joszi grumbled for Grevail¡¯s ears, resettling his hat with a grimace as they moved off the highway. ¡°If so, you will regret it.¡±


    Grevail clamped his mouth shut and instead studied the way ahead as if the relic might be laying in the road. There was nothing that stood out to him about this street. He assumed it was like any other in Eudan, but the answer to what happened to his friends was somewhere along it.


    A throbbing pain gripped his head, accompanying the itch, and they both intensified as the wagon lumbered further along. The houses grew larger, more ornate, and became surrounded by walls. The gates to these properties were embossed with crests and symbols. On one home, a large tree was etched into the metal and painted so the trunk was white and the leaves purple. A red bird of some kind graced the gate of another house, while yet another had the moon Arulan quartered.


    The buzzing slid to the right like a bug skittering across his brain. A huge mansion of gray stone with a slate roof sat on the other side of a waist-high brick wall. Many windows marched down the side of the broad, rectangular building, and a rearing white horse, eyes rolling in fear, stood on the gate. Grevail¡¯s head throbbed so badly he thought it might explode.


    ¡°There,¡± he groaned, squinting at the building through the pain. On unsteady feet, he stood and grabbed the bars of the cage to keep himself upright, peering at the windows. I know you are there, stableman.


    ¡°Sit down,¡± Joszi growled under his breath. The Arbiter heeled his mount to put himself between Grevail and the mansion.


    Grevail searched the windows, hoping to spot a clue. He didn¡¯t think he¡¯d ever seen so many windows on one building, except perhaps a few in Hightown. The answer of what happened to his friends that night was inside¡­and so was his revenge.


    Joszi¡¯s face flushed a deep crimson. ¡°If you don¡¯t sit, I¡¯ll have you sent to the swamps immediately. By sunset!¡±


    Grevail met the Arbiter¡¯s eyes, challenging the spiteful anger he found in them. He did not sit, and instead continued to cast his gaze over Joszi¡¯s bulbous maroon hat toward the mansion.


    Joszi sputtered and waved at Lyphon.


    ¡°Sit, scamp,¡± Lyphon said.


    Something in the man¡¯s voice made Grevail turn to meet his eyes too, and he was surprised to find a mote understanding in the Purifier¡¯s pale blue gaze. Lyphon shook his head, casting a furtive glance at Joszi. Despite the warning, Grevail spent another moment standing in the back of the wagon before he sat.


    Joszi tore his eyes from Grevail and spoke to Lyphon. ¡°Find out what you can about who lives there,¡± he said, inclining his head toward the mansion. ¡°Send word when you have something¡­and don¡¯t let yourself be seen.¡±


    Lyphon acknowledged the order, but his eyes remained on Grevail, sharing a look that told him not do anything stupid. Then, the Purifier turned his mount back the way they had come.


    ¡°You¡¯re not going to do anything?¡± Grevail asked. As the wagon rolled down the street away from the mansion, the throbbing in his head began to subside.


    ¡°Quiet yourself,¡± Joszi said with a scowl. ¡°How do I know it is in there? What if you are lying to me?¡±


    ¡°I thought it was going to start another Long Dark? Isn¡¯t that what you said?¡±


    Joszi scowled. ¡°Watch your mouth, Cythraul.¡±


    Grevail challenged his gaze again. ¡°If it were a shack in Lowtown you wouldn¡¯t waste any time at all.¡±


    Joszi sneered. ¡°No, I wouldn¡¯t¡­and nobody would care. I¡¯ll turn you from a deceitful, cowardly Cythraul. Your spirit has become corroded, but you will be purified¡­mark my words.¡± The Thavan kicked his horse, galloping ahead to speak with Amma.


    Thyma watched Joszi speak to Amma for a moment before turning a confused gaze on Grevail. She was still under the impression that he was just some Cythraul who Joszi had shown an odd interest in. Who only knew what she thought now.


    Joszi led them through the city, occasionally pausing his conversation with Amma to cast a suspicious look at Grevail. Tamirra was smaller than the capital, but Grevail felt a familiar comfort in the city as opposed to wilderness, even in a Thavan cage that drew scowls of townspeople.


    The street ahead ended in a huge curving wall and surprised, Grevail¡¯s eyes traveled up the looming form. His mouth went dry when he recognized the maroon and gold banners hanging from it, wavering in the breeze. The lantern and the flame was on one, and another with the three ¡®R¡¯s representing the Thavan creed. There was a Refuge in the capital, too, though Grevail had never been inside. These walls were the last thing of the outside world most Cythraul ever saw. His heart sank as the fortress rose ever higher above him, towering over the street and buildings around it.


    Grevail realized now what Joszi planned for him. That liar, he thought. Even if I handed him that cube today, he¡¯d never let me go. He stared at the Thavan¡¯s back as they arrived at the iron portcullis of the Refuge, wishing he had escaped the night of the sprouting.


    Joszi cupped a hand around his mouth and called to the top of gate. ¡°The corrosion has been repelled!¡±


    A face capped by a kettle helm appeared atop the wall, then disappeared, and not long afterward the portcullis began to crank upward. Joszi¡¯s mount pranced through, followed by the wagon and Grevail.


    Inside, buildings crowded against the battlements, crammed shoulder to shoulder with each other and between them, narrow lanes cut through like a river burrowing into a hillside. Thavan Keepers in maroon and gold marched down these avenues, comfortable in the unnatural shade the buildings provided. The industrious cacophony of taverns and shops accumulated into a nearly overpowering din. The streets moved with people, and yet more popped heads out of windows or strode through doorways. Everything seemed to be built from stone and featured circular inspiration in the architecture. One building had a round door, while another appeared to be constructed from many circular stone blocks stacked one atop the other. Despite his confinement in the cage, Grevail had to marvel at it. It was like an anthill, and in a way, it reminded him of Lowtown.


    They passed a blocky barracks, beside which a training yard occupied a rare open space, where more Thavan Keepers practiced with wooden weapons. A lone Purifier stood beside the entrance to the training yard, copper sallet helmet hanging from his belt and diamond-shaped silver amulet laying against his chest, just like what Lyphon carried. Grevail wondered how many Purifiers there were in all of Eudan, surely not many.


    Beyond the barracks, a massive Spiritkeep towered over everything else like a mountain. The circular tower dwarfed even the four story buildings beside it and the round windows were twice as wide as Grevail was tall. A gaggle of Thavaks milled around outside, maroon chaperon hats piled atop their heads.


    The Thavaks became agitated at the sight of him in the cage and exploded into a noisy rabble. A chunk of bread threaded between the bars to hit Grevail in the chest. ¡°Cythraul scum!¡±


    Soon, a deluge of debris was battering the cage.


    ¡°Forswear!¡±


    ¡°Dawnbreaker!¡±


    Grevail huddled into a ball on the floor of the wagon, shielding himself as the attack continued unabated. The Thavaks followed the wagon with excited shouts, becoming especially boisterous whenever one of them landed a direct hit. After what seemed an eternity, when the onslaught finally waned, Grevail raised his head to wipe what he thought was tomato juice from his face. The Thavaks had been left behind and various bits of food were scattered across the floor of the cage. Thyma caught his eye. To his surprise, she looked on the verge of tears, yet the old woman only turned forward and flicked the reins.


    Joszi came to a halt beside a stately building of huge stone blocks and dismounted, handing his reins to a liveryman in gold and maroon. At the top of stairs leading from the street, double doors with ornate gilded glass sparkled in the morning sunlight and Joszi motioned at two Keepers standing beside them who then followed him to the back of the wagon.


    Grevail went to the cage door as Joszi unlocked it. ¡°You lied to me, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    Joszi swung the door open and the Keepers surged in, grabbing Grevail by the legs and dragging him out. They hauled him to his feet, each holding an arm. The Keepers seemed to take some kind of pleasure in manhandling him, laughing and making jokes while Joszi looked on with a smile. Grevail writhed in their hands, scowling at the Arbiter. ¡°You are a liar. You won¡¯t let me go. I showed you where it was! You said¡ª¡±


    ¡°Consider yourself lucky that I do not send for the Postulators, Cythraul.¡± Joszi smirked at Grevail¡¯s struggling, then walked toward the building and the Keepers hauled Grevail up the stairs toward the gilded glass doors the Arbiter propped open.


    With Grevail between them, the Thavans shuffled into a grand foyer. Polished stone lined the walls, all the way up a second and third floor above that carved staircases on each side of the room ascended in graceful spirals.


    A woman sitting at a desk just opposite the entrance ran muddy brown eyes over Grevail, twisting thin lips as the Keepers puppeted him toward a door beside her post. Her eyes warmed when Joszi entered behind them. ¡°Joszi! I didn¡¯t expect you back so soon!¡±


    ¡°I did not expect to be back so soon, Franthe,¡± Joszi said.


    ¡°Should I have a Postulator sent for?¡± the woman asked.


    Joszi turned to regard Grevail, studying him for a moment. ¡°No, not yet,¡± he said finally.


    The Arbiter marched past Grevail to open the door beside Franthe¡¯s desk, which the Keepers then hurried him through and onto a flight of stairs. Down they went into a labyrinth of cold stone and lantern filled hallways, turning here and there, passing doorways and intersections but few people. The Keepers kept a tight grip, dragging Grevail along with little more care than if he were a sack of grain.


    A man standing beside a doorway in the hall ahead watched them with interest as they approached, the gold stripes on his maroon uniform sparkling in the light of a nearby lamp.


    ¡°Nasos¡­¡± Joszi said, inclining his head. ¡°I have someone here for you to look after.¡±


    Nasos narrowed his eyes at Grevail before his lips, surrounded by a dark beard, tilted in a smirk. ¡°Company?¡± The man turned and threw open the door behind him.


    ¡°A Dawnbreaker, but a¡­special case.¡±


    Nasos shrugged and gave Grevail a wicked grin as the Keepers hauled him through the door. ¡°They¡¯re all the same to me¡­but it will be as you say, Arbiter.¡±


    They entered a dungeon, well-lit by lamps, where empty cells occupied one wall. Nasos skittered into the room and took a ring of keys from his belt to unlock one. The Keepers pushed Grevail inside and he fell to his knees at the center, the door clanging shut behind him.


    Joszi came to the bars, looking down his nose. ¡°You do not share the same space we reserve for your brethren. These are for¡­distinguished guests.¡±


    Grevail stared at the cell and thick stone blocks sealing his fate. He was in the bottom of a Thavan prison, where he would likely die, just like his parents. He¡¯d lost his friends, he¡¯d lost everything. ¡°You are a liar, Joszi! Let me out of here! You killed my friends, you coward!¡± He realized tears were streaking down his face but made no attempt to stop them, even when Nasos began laughing. ¡°You killed them!¡±


    Joszi offered a mocking smile. ¡°I need no admonishment from a thief with the Emberfolk¡¯s deeds staining his hands.¡± The Arbiter¡¯s disdain laden eyes studied him a moment longer before he spun from the cell and left with the Keepers in tow.


    Nasos chuckled and took a seat atop a stool as the door closed behind Joszi. He smiled, as if relishing Grevail¡¯s sobs. ¡°You¡¯ll die in here, Breaker scum. I¡¯ve seen many like you do just that.¡±

 Paragon Of The Blade

    Sitting on a stool before Grevail¡¯s cell, Eukriss bent over the leather-bound tome in his lap. Flipping through the pages, the tails of his maroon chaperon hat fell past tufts of gray hair to dangle beside his head. Stitched into the man¡¯s robe was the golden scythe manifest of Darunen, the Paragon of the harvest and of food. He raised disdainful eyes, staring at Grevail through the bars and pursed his lips. ¡°I hope¡­at the very least¡­you know this? Which two Paragons were sisters?¡±


    Grevail smirked. Everyone knows that. ¡°Varien and Mara¡ª¡°


    ¡°Silence, you fool!¡± Eukriss shouted, nearly jumping from his seat. The Thavak shook his head and calmed himself. ¡°You do not say her name! Never say her name.¡±


    ¡°You asked me which two¡ª¡±


    ¡°I did, but even a drunk in a swamp hovel knows not to say her name.¡± Eukriss released a long, incredulous breath and resettled on the stool. After a moment, he continued in a measured tone. ¡°We refer to Varien¡¯s sister as the Lady of Graves, the Mistress of Death, or the Woman of¡ª¡±


    ¡°What happens if I say it?¡± Grevail heard Marath¡¯s name uttered more than once and never saw anything happen, but it was taboo to say it, even to people like himself who never stepped foot inside a Spiritkeep. Marath was the Paragon of death after all, and not only that, of evil too. As the stories went, she embarked on a murderous spree in a bid to lessen her sister Varien¡¯s fame. Varien healed and took care of the sick, and in jealous rage, Marath poisoned and killed those her sister helped. There were Sefkha in Lowtown, who worshiped Marath and said her name all the time, yet Grevail never saw anything happen to them either.


    A blank look passed over Eukriss¡¯ face, as if stunned Grevail would ask such a thing. ¡°You darken your fate to do so. Illness will befall you, death, misery and destruction soon after. The Lady of Graves can pass through walls and appear anywhere as she wishes. If you say her name, you call her attention, and may the Parents have mercy upon your spirit if you draw her focus.¡±


    He sneered at Eukriss¡¯ ominous speech, which only deepened the man¡¯s glare.


    With a look of stubbornness, the Thavak pressed on. ¡°Which Paragon rescued the Thava and led them to the homeland? Who saved Sanyatta Barragos in the desert and brought him water?¡± A smug sneer flattened Eukriss¡¯ lips, as if he were sure that Grevail would not know the answer.


    Indeed, Grevail didn¡¯t know which one it was. Anger flared inside him. I don¡¯t care about your beliefs, Thavan. Grevail readied himself to tell the man that, but after a moment¡¯s thought reined in his emotions. Eukriss would not receive the satisfaction of seeing him angry. ¡°Was it Ilen?¡±


    The Thavak scoffed and pushed up the sleeves of his maroon robe modestly embroidered with gold thread. ¡°Ilen? Are you serious? Is Ilen the only Paragon you know anything about?¡±


    Grevail spread his hands. He never gave beseechings to Paragons, or gave Thavans his coin. Most people didn¡¯t know the entire history of Paragon, but most knew all the manifests. From the Paragons Grevail knew, he always liked Ilen most. The mute, valiant killer. Small and unimposing, but deadly and agile¡­always ready with a knife. Out of all the Paragons, he thought she would fit in Lowtown best. Skill with a knife was always useful in Lowtown after all, and a mute would never say a word to the watch.


    Eukriss shook his head in disgust. ¡°Volera. It is Volera¡­you¡­¡± The Thavak took another long breath. ¡°It is so easy to remember. She was known for her fiery temper and red hair. The Paragon of passion, anger and love. Red hair¡­fire¡­passion? Do you understand? I¡¯ve seen life-long Dawnbreakers who know more than you do.¡± Eukriss emitted a frustrated growl. ¡°If you haven¡¯t studied the Paragons, you can redeem yourself by telling me the conditions of the Accord.¡±


    Grevail scratched his head. ¡°Well¡­I know one is that you are not supposed to eat at dawn.¡±


    Eukriss waited for more, but when none came, his face slackened in disbelief. ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± The Thavak closed his eyes, reciting passages from memory. ¡°We will never acknowledge, praise, or celebrate those who came before the Long Dark nor handle their possessions. We will never break an oath. Food nor drink will never be consumed when the Parents are on the horizon. The Stricken must be Purified wherever they are found and Voxetta protected from them. At Dawn, we accept our duty, and at sunset, mourn our loss.¡±


    An incredulous chuckle escaped Grevail¡¯s lips. ¡°You don¡¯t really follow all that, do you?¡±


    The Thavak scrunched bushy gray eyebrows over narrowed eyes. ¡°Of course¡­at all costs.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve never eaten something when the Parents were on the horizon? What if you were starving? Would you wait?¡±


    The Thavak scoffed, snapping shut the book in his lap. ¡°Joszi gave me the task of bringing you to forswear, and I will do everything in my power to see that you do. Tomorrow when I come next, you will have studied the materials¡­or all of Varien¡¯s compassion won¡¯t be enough.¡± Eukriss eyed the pile of untouched parchment in the corner of Grevail¡¯s cell.


    Grevail inclined his head. ¡°I¡¯ll read them all night and into the morning.¡±


    The Thavak rose, scowling. ¡°I¡¯ll wipe that smile from your face, Cythraul. This is for your own good¡­though perhaps it would be expedient to abdicate you on the pyre now and have it over with.¡± He swept the tail of his chaperon over a shoulder and exited the dungeon, slamming the door shut.


    Nasos sneered from where he leaned against the wall. ¡°Only a fool would antagonize him. Are you a fool?¡± He laughed, the sudden sound filling the dungeon with a harsh echo. ¡°Of course you are¡­fool Breaker.¡±


    Grevail glared at the man. They can throw me on the pyre, I don¡¯t care. With my friends dead, does anything matter? ¡°Don¡¯t you have anything useful to do? Anything other than snoring half the day and spending the other telling me I¡¯m a Breaker?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I do,¡± Nasos said. ¡°I love what I do,¡± he reminded Grevail with a cruel grin.


    The thick jail door swung open again and Lyphon strode through. He studied Nasos with a suspicious look, as if he thought the man might be sleeping on his feet again. The Purifier¡¯s voice took on a commanding tone and he jerked his head toward Grevail. ¡°Unlock his cell.¡±


    Nasos raised a dark eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯ll unlock that for Joszi, or the Archenari, and a few others as well¡­but not for you.¡±


    Lyphon crossed the dungeon and grabbed Nasos by the collar, pressing the smaller man into the wall. ¡°Unlock the cell,¡± the Purifier grated, ¡°or Joszi will know how well rested you are.¡±


    Nasos averted his eyes, cowering into the neckline of his uniform in Lyphon¡¯s grip. ¡°Alright¡­alright¡­just don¡¯t do anything rash!¡± Lyphon released him and the guard scurried across the room, hurrying to liberate the keys from his belt.


    ¡°Come on,¡± Lyphon said to Grevail as the iron bars squealed open.


    Grevail stepped out of the cell slowly, unable to keep the surprise from his face. He¡¯d been in the tiny space for days on end and couldn¡¯t help but feel a ripple of excitement run down his spine being outside of it.


    Lyphon saw the questions on the tip of his tongue. ¡°No, you are not being freed. Joszi thinks you should get some exercise.¡±


    Nasos sneered at Lyphon¡¯s back, though wiped it from his face as the Purifier turned for the door.


    ¡°Thank you, Lyphon,¡± Grevail said, still in disbelief.


    A seriousness weighted Lyphon¡¯s face. ¡°I want you on your best behavior. I mean it. Any attempt at escape and you will be right back here¡­with a set of chains on for good measure. Come with me.¡±


    Grevail followed the Purifier from the jail, leaving a petulant Nasos behind. Lyphon wasted no time walking the dim, tunnel-like halls buried beneath the huge building. The Purifier¡¯s ever-present bronze helmet hung from his belt, clicking and shining in the sparse lamplight as they walked along. Grevail still wondered how he never took the thing off his hip. Surely it must get caught on things all the time.


    Lyphon led him through a series of twists and turns, until finally at the end of one hallway they came to a robust door. When the Purifier pulled it open, a sheet of golden sunlight poured over him onto the floor. He waved Grevail through.


    Through the door, Grevail found a walled garden at the rear of the building he¡¯d been imprisoned beneath. Banks of yellow flowers lined vine covered walls, while benches and bushes dotted thick, green grass. A black iron gate in the wall seemed to be the only other exit. ¡°Exercise?¡± Grevail asked, shielding his eyes. ¡°Doing what?¡±


    Lyphon turned, and in one smooth motion tossed something through the air. Grevail flinched, catching the object against his body. A board? No¡­not a board, but a wooden sword. He raised an eyebrow at Lyphon. ¡°What is this?¡±


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°A practice sword,¡± Lyphon said. ¡°For your exercise, I will give you lessons on the way a Purifier fights.¡±


    Grevail looked askance at the sword. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Would you rather stay in your cell?¡±


    Grevail shook his head, reveling at the warmth of the Parent¡¯s light on his skin and the gentle breeze ruffling his hair. If it keeps me out of that cell for a while¡­ ¡°Alright, what do you want me to do? I don¡¯t know how to use a sword.¡±


    A smirk curled Lyphon¡¯s lips beneath bemused pale blue eyes. ¡°I know you don¡¯t, but it wouldn¡¯t hurt to learn, would it? Now, hold it in both hands, one atop the other, like this.¡± Lyphon demonstrated with another practice sword he picked up from the ground.


    Grevail watched, then placed his hands on the hilt, just as the Purifier did. It felt awkward holding a sword. You couldn¡¯t use one of these in the tight, twisting paths of Lowtown. A knife was much better. Not to mention a sword would attract the watch like minnows draw a crane.


    ¡°Now loosen your arms¡­relax your shoulders,¡± Lyphon advised, rolling his own shoulders. ¡°You are much too tight. If someone were to strike at you¡ª¡° The Purifier crossed the few paces between himself and Grevail with abrupt speed, cutting downward with the wooden blade.


    Grevail reacted with a clumsy parry, like he imagined people fought with swords, but could only brace as Lyphon¡¯s weapon cracked him on the shoulder. He rubbed his arm with a curse and glared at the man.


    ¡°See,¡± Lyphon said, smiling. ¡°You must be fluid¡­loose. If you are too rigid, you cannot act appropriately. The sword must become part of your body, and you should be able to use it as you would your own hand. Do you have to think when you use your hand?¡±


    Grevail shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t understand why we are doing this. I¡¯m not a Purifier, Lyphon. ¡±


    Lyphon snorted. ¡°Would you rather be a Purifier than Cythraul?¡±


    Grevail scowled and tossed the practice sword to the ground. ¡°If you say I am. All I¡¯ve ever been is a thief.¡±


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you rather be a Purifier than a thief?¡±


    Grevail stared at the sword on the ground. ¡°You¡¯ve lost your mind.¡±


    Lyphon tsked and ran a hand over his bald head. ¡°Perhaps you are right. Instead of training you, I should let Joszi send you to the camps¡­to toil in the muck until you die of old age. If he does that, you¡¯ll wish you accepted my offer.¡±


    ¡°Are you serious?¡± Grevail wanted to laugh at how absurd it seemed. ¡°You want to train me as a Purifier? Why?¡±


    ¡°I see promise in you, scamp. You¡¯ve come this far from Lowtown, why not go further?¡±


    ¡°Bury my spirit.¡± Purifiers were supposed to be noble, brave, and most importantly¡­Thavan. Grevail wasn¡¯t any of those things. Being noble and brave didn¡¯t put food in your stomach, not in his experience anyway. In Lowtown, you did what you had to. ¡°I¡¯ll never be a Thavan.¡±


    Lyphon shrugged at the disgust on Grevail¡¯s face. ¡°Not all Purifiers are Thavan, Grevail. I wasn¡¯t, once upon a time. I¡¯m not asking you to don the derico. I don¡¯t think you¡¯d look good in a chaperon anyway.¡±


    ¡°Joszi wants me to be a Purifier?¡±


    Lyphon waved a hand as if it really didn¡¯t matter. ¡°Joszi does not decide who becomes a Purifier and who does not. Let¡¯s go over it, maybe you¡¯ll find it interesting?¡±


    Grevail bent to pick up the practice sword and swiped it through the air. If nothing else, maybe I can crack him on the head with it. Might knock some sense into him about this ashen relic. ¡°Fine. If you will not keep your word and let me go¡­after I showed you where the relic is.¡±


    ¡°All in due time, scamp. We will get there in time.¡± Lyphon glided across the ground at him.


    Grevail and Lyphon spent hours in the garden trading blows. The Purifier would toy with him, often feinting one way, then another, laughing at Grevail¡¯s delayed reactions. Soon, sweat poured down Grevail¡¯s back and beaded on Lyphon¡¯s forehead. His body ached from the strikes Lyphon landed, while he couldn¡¯t remember landing one. The bald man¡¯s sharp blue eyes were amused when he snaked around Grevail¡¯s guard yet again to land a sharp stab on his belly.


    ¡°Now imagine,¡± Lyphon said as he jumped backward, avoiding Grevail¡¯s slow, vengeful rebuttal, ¡°if a Shimmerbeast was reading your mind. How would you deal with that? How do you fight an opponent that knows what you will do before you do it?¡±


    At the mention of a Shimmerbeast, the memory of his friends forced itself to the front of his mind. He¡¯d already cried himself to sleep in that dungeon until he thought there was not a tear left in his body, and the fool Purifier something like that. Grevail growled. ¡°I¡¯m never fighting a Shimmerbeast, Lyphon!¡± He sprang forward with a cutting swipe at Lyphon¡¯s head that the Purifier parried with a chuckle.


    ¡°Perhaps not the best example...¡± Lyphon circled Grevail, feinting and teasing. ¡°A Catiglian? They cannot read your mind, but they can freeze it¡­render you immobile¡­easy prey.¡±


    Grevail spit on the ground at Lyphon¡¯s feet. ¡°When the Stricken return?¡±


    Lyphon nodded. ¡°Yes. Do you think I¡¯m a fool?¡± The Purifier snapped his wrist and the tip of his sword became a blur, clipping Grevail¡¯s chin before he could react. Lyphon grinned. ¡°Now, I ask again. How do you fight an opponent who knows what you will do before you do it?¡±


    Anger heated Grevail¡¯s cheeks and he launched at the Purifier with a roar. Lyphon danced in reverse, parrying each blow, but with growing concentration. The swords clacked against each other in quickening succession as Grevail drove the Purifier back with the pace of his strikes, yearning to hear the smack of his practice sword against the man¡¯s ribs. He swung wide at Lyphon¡¯s right side, and when the Purifier shifted his guard, Grevail changed direction and stabbed at his stomach. The training sword slipped under Lyphon¡¯s parry, heading straight for his gut.


    Like a ballet dancer, Lyphon spun out of Grevail¡¯s vision. The tip of Grevail¡¯s practice sword, which just moments earlier had been on the verge of landing a hit, now sliced through the empty air where the Purifier had been. A sharp pain across Grevail¡¯s back was accompanied by a loud thwack.


    Grevail fell to his knees, chest heaving with labored breath. He cursed.


    ¡°Almost, scamp¡­almost. That¡¯s enough for today,¡± Lyphon said behind him.


    He pushed himself to his feet and turned to glare at the Purifier. ¡°You were just playing with me, weren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Did you expect to best me on your first try? I¡¯ve been honing my sword for many years, Grevail. You¡¯ll have to do much better than that.¡± Lyphon waved at the stone benches around the garden. ¡°Sit, you¡¯ve earned yourself a treat. I¡¯ll find us something.¡± The Purifier turned to leave but stopped. ¡°You won¡¯t try to escape¡­will you?¡±


    Grevail watched his back. ¡°No, I won¡¯t.¡±


    Lyphon only nodded and opened the door to head inside.


    Grevail walked around the garden, running a hand through his sweaty, greasy hair and arching his back against the ache developing from Lyphon¡¯s blow. If Joszi thought exercise was good for forswearing, perhaps he could be convinced a bath was too. Not that Grevail was accustomed to bathing often. There were no baths in Lowtown, of course, but the Kanarkand was always flowing when it was warm enough. Thinking of Lowtown only returned his friend¡¯s faces to his thoughts and he fled from them. He¡¯d mourned for days while Nasos howled with laughter. He would cry no more. Now, he would get his revenge.


    He approached the black wrought iron gate. He wouldn¡¯t try to escape¡­now, just like he promised. Little chance he could escape without a good plan anyway, surrounded by Thava as he was, but he did give Lyphon his word. Fool, why keep my word when he doesn¡¯t keep his? I¡¯ll have to escape unless I want to die in here.


    Somehow, he¡¯d have to make it to the house where the relic led him, and where the stableman must be. What am I going to do? Kill them all? Maybe not, but I can steal that relic. If the stableman and Joszi wanted it so much, the best way to avenge his friends would be to steal it for himself and deprive them of it.


    Beyond the gate, the Refuge streets were quiet, though Grevail spotted movement in the houses across the way. He wasn¡¯t sure why, but he always thought there was nothing but Thavaks, Spiritkeeps, and dungeons inside Refuges, but that isn¡¯t all he saw here. There were businesses, homes, townspeople, everything any other town might have. It seemed a place designed to prevent escape, with narrow streets and high walls. First, he¡¯d have to find a way out of the dungeon, that in and of itself would be no easy task. If he could somehow make it to this garden under the cover of darkness, it might give him a chance. There were no guards, and every¡ª


    ¡°Thinking of escape, scamp?¡±


    Lyphon stood watching him with narrowed eyes, holding a tray in one hand and a glistening pitcher in the other. ¡°No, I was¡­just looking.¡± Grevail returned to one of the stone garden benches near Lyphon and sat.


    ¡°You¡¯d make a good student,¡± Lyphon said and placed the tray lined with crackers between them before sitting himself. He poured two cups and motioned with the sloshing pitcher for Grevail to take one. ¡°You¡¯ve got a talent for swordplay. I can tell. Quick wrists, quick feet, intelligent enough though not afraid¡­but not too brave either. There is a delicate distinction between bravery and stupidity, sometimes it can be hard to tell the difference.¡±


    Grevail shook his head, still in disbelief the man was serious. ¡°It isn¡¯t my business to be a Purifier.¡± He picked up a cup and gave it a sniff. It was tea, and smelled of honey. Taking a drink, he found it was cold, sweet and refreshing. He gulped down the rest as if he was dying of thirst.


    Lyphon chuckled at Grevail¡¯s already empty glass and poured him another, but it was followed by a tired sigh. ¡°Nobody wants to it seems. Purifiers were heroes once, now¡­most people don¡¯t even remember we exist. Perhaps the Archenari is right.¡±


    ¡°The Archenari?¡±


    ¡°The leader of the Thava,¡± Lyphon said with a roll of his eyes.


    Grevail restrained himself from rolling his eyes back. Unless the Archenari is a watchman or in Lowtown, why should I care who he is? He¡¯d heard the word before, of course, but the Thava were not a subject he studied other than how to avoid them. And I¡¯ve just spent hours sparring with a Purifier who wants me to ride off and fight Stricken with him. ¡°What is he right about?¡±


    ¡°She thinks Purifiers are outdated. The Stricken we specialize against are so rare, the Thava no longer need us in their ranks. We are too expensive, she claims, too much time in training for something so infrequently useful. You don¡¯t need a Purifier to round up Dawnbreakers or guard the Refuge walls.¡±


    Grevail grimaced. Breakers, right, like me. ¡°But you said the Stricken were coming back.¡±


    ¡°I did, and I think they will, but Lura Guera does not share my concerns.¡±


    ¡°Where does the Archenari live? In Andrada?¡±


    ¡°In the palaces of Volera¡­far away from any Stricken. I¡¯ve met her, and most think she has served the Thava well. I would protect her life with mine, but on this at least, she is wrong. Voxetta will soon have more need for Purifiers than ever before.¡±


    It was hard for Grevail to discount what the man said. Ever since he came into contact with that cube, he¡¯d seen evidence for not one, but two types of Stricken, and if anyone knew Stricken¡­it was a Purifier. ¡°Is that why you want me to become one? You can¡¯t find anyone else?¡±


    ¡°I see promise in you. I know you are no Breaker, and I would rather you learn my trade than rot away in some work camp.¡±


    ¡°If you know I¡¯m not a Breaker, why don¡¯t you let me go? Joszi said if I helped him find¡ª¡±


    The Purifier sighed. ¡°Joszi will not let you go until we have the stone, scamp. There isn¡¯t anything I can do about that.¡±


    Grevail stared at him. How long will I be kept here in this dungeon, then? Forever? He turned from the Purifier, scowling at the ground. ¡°You¡¯re never going to let me go, are you?¡±


    ¡°I will do what I can, Grevail. The man who lives in the house you led us to is a noble, and a well-off one too. His name is Seirod¡­does it sound familiar to you?¡±

 The Visitor

    Thyma sat on the stool before Grevail¡¯s cell, lips split in a crooked smile. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry about me. Joszi doesn¡¯t care if I come to visit you¡­he probably doesn¡¯t even know. What would he do anyway? Throw me in there with you?¡±


    ¡°He could,¡± Grevail grumbled, though she scoffed at the suggestion. If Joszi knew what happened on the night of the Sprouting, he very well could lose his temper with Thyma. Grevail adjusted his position on the hard stone bench that gave him a backache whether he slept or sat on it. ¡°Do you know where Joszi went?¡±


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t tell me where he goes or why.¡± Thyma shrugged and winked her white eye. ¡°The Purifier, or a few Keepers usually go with him, but not this time. Makes me wonder what he¡¯s up to.¡± She furrowed her brow, as if contemplating it now, but another warm grin soon pulled at her lips. ¡°The jailer might let me bring something special tonight. The cook at the barracks owes me a favor or two.¡±


    Grevail waggled his head. ¡°Please don¡¯t, Thyma. You¡¯ll get in trouble.¡± He betrayed her kindness once, he would not do it again.


    ¡°Nonsense! The slop they have in here isn¡¯t fit for an Esh! Joszi is only making it harder for you to forswear and serve the Paragons. Compassion heals all wounds, not time, as my mother used to say. After all, what good is time if nobody tends the wound?¡±


    Nasos snorted from where he stood behind Thyma, leaning precariously on his spear with half open eyes. Grevail scowled at him. If the guard wasn¡¯t sleeping on his feet, he was sleeping in one of the other cells. Nasos¡¯ ripping snore echoing in the dungeon was a familiar sound.


    The dulled clanging of a key being inserted into the lock interrupted whatever else Thyma was about to say. The door creaked open and thudded against the wall. Nasos straightened with a gasp and lowered the spear to his hip.


    Lyphon stepped into the dungeon, bronze helmet shining on the strap at his waist. Tucking thumbs into the chest of his leather jerkin, he studied Nasos and chewed his lip, as if thinking of a suitable punishment. Nasos averted his eyes and swallowed, wrenching nervous hands around the spear. Lyphon¡¯s gaze dropped to Thyma. ¡°Would you excuse us?¡±


    Thyma twisted her lips at the order and included a roll of her eyes for the Purifier, but rose to leave anyway. She murmured a goodbye to Grevail and brushed past Lyphon to the door, closing it behind her.


    Lyphon ignored Nasos and took Thyma¡¯s place, pale blue eyes like mid-day sky studying Grevail. ¡°Is she planning to break you out? She told me yesterday that Joszi and I,¡± the Purifier cleared his throat and adopted a shrill voice, ¡°have no idea how to help a young man come to the Paragons.¡±


    ¡°Did Amma find someone more worthwhile to ask her questions of?¡± If Eukriss wasn¡¯t quizzing Grevail on what it meant to be Sacar, Amma was interrogating him about the cube. She would come nearly every night, and sometimes spend all of it on the stool Lyphon now occupied, asking countless questions. Grevail¡¯s answers were never different, no matter how many times or in what way she asked. No, the cube hadn¡¯t moved. No, he hadn¡¯t felt anything else. Yes, he was sure he had told her everything.


    ¡°She hasn¡¯t been seen.¡± Lyphon grunted and his eyes fell to the floor, as if the omission puzzled him. ¡°Nobody seems to know where she is¡­though I¡¯ve asked.¡±


    ¡°Are you her replacement¡­or have you come to convince me to be a Purifier?¡±


    Lyphon¡¯s lips quirked in a dry grin when he met Grevail¡¯s eyes . ¡°Have you changed your mind?¡±


    ¡°No. Why would I?¡±


    The Purifier raised an eyebrow at the bars between them. ¡°I can think of a few reasons.¡± Nasos yawned, and Lyphon cast a glare over his shoulder that made the smaller man jump. ¡°It¡¯s better than wasting away in here or a work camp, isn¡¯t it?¡± he asked, swinging back to Grevail.


    Yes, but that wasn¡¯t the deal! Grevail swallowed a growl and stood, walking to the bars. ¡°Joszi might get away with breaking his promise to a mudrat, but shouldn¡¯t that mean something to you? I led you to it. You¡¯re a Purifier after all. What good is washing away whatever you think happened in the past, whatever it was the Emberfolk did that was so bad, if you replace it with your own?¡±


    Lyphon¡¯s brows hardened over a cutting stare. Grevail struggled to keep his calm under that steady gaze and worried he might have went too far, but the Purifier only scoffed. ¡°We can¡¯t be sure it is in the house you pointed out. I don¡¯t agree with everything Joszi does, but we must find that relic. If it continues to exist in the wrong hands, another Long Dark will happen.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll all die from another Long Dark? The relic, the relic, the damn relic,¡± Grevail groaned. ¡°You promised to let me go if I helped you find it. I did my part, now do yours.¡±


    Lyphon released a breath that held a touch of frustration. ¡°I know what was promised, scamp. I will do what I can to see our promise upheld, you have my word, but only when we lay eyes on it, and not a moment before.¡±


    Nasos¡¯ spear clattered to the floor, the sound reverberating in the stone room. Lyphon twisted in his chair to stare at it, then with a curse, stood and jabbed a finger at the guard now slumping against the wall. ¡°I¡¯ll have you brought before the Roybal, Nasos! If you can¡¯t¡ª¡°


    Nasos slapped a hand to his head and wavered on unsteady feet. In a sudden jerk, his back snapped straight and his arms dropped to his sides. Staring over Lyphon¡¯s shoulder with dead eyes and an emotionless, slackened face, he looked as if he were under some kind of hypnosis.


    ¡°What is wrong with you? Have you been drinking?¡± Lyphon stepped toward Nasos, as if to grab the man by the shoulders, but stopped in mid-stride and stumbled, like he¡¯d been struck by an invisible club. The Purifier staggered backward and slammed into the bars of Grevail¡¯s cell.


    ¡°Lyphon?¡± An uneasy feeling came over Grevail. ¡°Are you alright?¡±


    ¡°Listen to me¡­¡± Lyphon breathed. ¡°Grevail¡­you must focus¡­do not let it change reality¡­¡±


    Nasos, straight as a board, spun toward the door of the dungeon. The man¡¯s movements were unnatural, but subtly so, like a swaying marionette.


    Grevail watched Nasos march across the room in bewilderment. ¡°What are you talking about? What is happening?¡±


    Lyphon growled as if he were struggling against some unseen force. ¡°Focus on the world around you¡­do not let it change, focus on reality! The colors!¡± The Purifier¡¯s back went rigid and he became still, like a statue.


    Nasos reached the door and opened it, eyes boring ahead out of a face etched from stone. A woman swept around him and into the room as if she¡¯d been invited. Dark curly hair spilled from her hood, surrounding a handsome face. Plump lips curled in a smile when her eyes landed on Grevail. She sized Lyphon up and her grin deepened as she stepped across the room to put a hand on his bicep. ¡°A Purifier¡­¡± she cooed. ¡°Such strong resistance. How I¡¯d love to have him moored for a night.¡± Lyphon did not react to her touch.


    The woman pointed an index finger to the ceiling and Lyphon popped onto his toes, as if suspended from a string. She swirled her finger in a circle and Grevail looked on in horror as Lyphon twirled a pirouette at her direction. When Grevail caught a glimpse of the Purifier¡¯s face, it was slack and emotionless, just like Nasos¡¯.


    ¡°Do you want out of here?¡± the woman asked. Smoldering black eyes probed Grevail, but flicked to Lyphon, still spinning, as if checking on a pet.


    It took a moment for Grevail to realize she was asking him a question. ¡°W¡­who¡­who are you?¡± he stammered. ¡°What are you doing to him?¡±


    The woman snickered. ¡°Do you want out of here or not?¡±


    ¡°Stop doing whatever you are doing to him!¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t do that,¡± the woman said, arching an eyebrow in amused surprise. ¡°I¡¯m offering you a way out¡­isn¡¯t that what you want? Do you want to be held here? Is he your friend? Is that why he holds you prisoner?¡±


    Lyphon did not cry out in pain, nor show emotion on his face, but Grevail felt as if he were being tortured. ¡°Leave him alone.¡±


    ¡°Interesting.¡± The woman stared at Grevail, and though her hand dropped to her side, Lyphon continued circling like a top. ¡°I want you to show me where it is.¡±


    ¡°Where what is?¡±


    ¡°Please, don¡¯t be silly. I know it is near¡­but I can¡¯t quite find it. I¡¯m afraid I need your help.¡± Her face tightened as if she hated to admit such a thing.


    Watching the woman¡¯s dark eyes run him up and down, Grevail had the eerie feeling she knew what he was thinking. ¡°How do you want me to help?¡±


    She centered a knowing and confident gaze on him. ¡°I want you to find it. I know you can sense it¡­and so can I, but not like you can. Amma was kind enough to share a trove of details about you.¡±


    Grevail struggled to wrap his head around what was happening. Did this woman do something to Amma? She could sense the cube too? Lyphon still spun on the edge of Grevail¡¯s vision. If she could do that to a Purifier, what could she do to him? What was she doing? He cursed himself for the urge to rescue Lyphon. He wouldn¡¯t keep his word, why sacrifice yourself to save him! Yet even as the reverberation of that thought faded from his panicked mind, he recalled the sympathy in the Purifier¡¯s now emotionless, uncaring eyes. Sympathy and understanding when he¡¯d hardly ever known either, much less from a Thavan. He wanted to save me, ashes and embers if I know why, but he did. ¡°Let him go and I¡¯ll show you where it is.¡±


    A merciless chuckle escaped her pretty, blood red lips. ¡°I told you, I can¡¯t do that.¡±


    ¡°If you won¡¯t leave him alone, I¡¯ll never show you where it is.¡±


    Their eyes locked. Lyphon stopped twirling but continued to stand as if being suspended from a wire by the top of his head. Grevail eyed the open door beyond the woman. Someone has to come down here eventually. If she¡¯s after the relic, she¡¯ll grow gray waiting for me to tell her where it is.


    The woman¡¯s lips curdled, as if she could read his mind. An incredible pain gripped Grevail¡¯s skull, like a giant hand digging searing fingers into his head. He lurched forward, grabbing at the bars of his cell to stay upright. Nausea hit him in a sickening wave, but at the same time, elation and joy, interspersed with swells of intense sadness and dread. It was as if he felt every emotion one could feel at once, howling across his soul like a gale. The claws in his head dug ever deeper.


    The color evaporated from the world, scoured away like a film of water drying in the sun. The woman¡¯s green cloak turned gray, and the orange glow of the lantern on the wall behind her became a blinding white ball. He struggled to fend off whatever was happening to him, but felt like a babe, mewling and helpless at the feet of a wolf.


    The woman¡¯s confident smile struck him like a slap to the face. ¡°If you will not see sense, you are no use to me. I would rather your talent die with you than the Thava make use of it.¡± Her cutting, frigid voice sliced through the pounding in his ears.


    Grevail stared aghast at the drab dungeon through watery eyes. The staggering pain in his head burrowed deeper, into the depths of his mind, down to the very core of who he was. He was losing a battle he didn¡¯t know how to fight.


    The last color winked from existence and his back snapped straight, though not of his own doing. His limbs simply refused to do what he what wanted, as though they¡¯d grown a mind of their own. The woman sauntered to the cell door, a bemused chortle accompanying her swaying movements. Grevail jolted into awkward motion toward her, like a newborn calf taking its first steps, his feet moving of their own accord.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    She reached a hand through the bars and stroked his cheek. ¡°Poor fool. You can¡¯t fight me. Not even your Purifier could fight me.¡±


    No matter how he struggled, he could not recoil from her hand. He couldn¡¯t avert his eyes from her cold gaze nor move the muscles in his face to sneer at her patronizing smile.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you believe me?¡±


    Grevail watched in wild horror as the skin on the woman¡¯s face moved. Her once pretty features became blocky and misshapen, like a hunk of clay-like flesh. With snapping limbs and distorted features, the woman¡¯s body contracted into a disgusting ball that hovered in the air beyond the bars of his cell. Curves and lines formed on this sack of floating flesh. Some areas grew, while others shrank, until a triangular shape ballooned to fill his vision. A snake¡¯s head dangled in the air before him where the woman had stood. Shining, diamond-shaped eyes regarded him. Like the crack of a whip, a forked tongue darted from the jaws and slithered between the bars, scraping against his face. He wanted to turn away or close his eyes but stood unmoving, heart thumping against his chest.


    In the middle of a gem-like golden eye, the snake¡¯s slit pupil centered on him. ¡°I can make your nightmares come to life,¡± it hissed. The jaws cranked open until it was all Grevail could see. He looked down the beast¡¯s throat, past the writhing tongue into a hole black as night.


    The jaws closed with a thunderous crack and the snake began to melt as if it were wax, splattering to the floor where it formed a revolting, fleshy stalagmite that bubbled and ebbed like a hot-spring in the swamp. Striking white bones formed in the oozing lump, and these bones disappeared when glistening tendons and muscle strapped across them. Veins forked across the disturbing mass, filling with dark, rich blood. Skin stretched over the muscle, crawling and growing across the raw, bloody insides. The transformation happened in the blink of an eye, and when it was over, the most beautiful woman Grevail had ever seen stood looking back at him, naked as the day she was born. Her emerald green eyes were mischievous and she quirked a playful smile, as if relishing the shock on his face. She brushed fiery red hair over a delicate shoulder and spoke in a voice sweet as sugar. ¡°Or¡­I can make your wildest dreams come true.¡±


    Again, the thing changed in a sickening blur of skin, blood and muscle. Facial features and body parts disappeared, were rearranged, grew and shrank until the woman who walked through the dungeon door stood at the bars again, sporting a knowing smile.


    ¡°Now, let¡¯s make our escape,¡± she said. Nasos spun toward Grevail¡¯s cell, key in hand.


    A groan echoed in the cold dungeon. On the edge of Grevail¡¯s vision, Lyphon struggled to take a step forward. He did take one¡­then another. The woman whirled toward the Purifier, a look of intense concentration contorting her previously assured features.


    Color crept into the edges of Grevail¡¯s vision. She can¡¯t control all of us, he realized, still fighting the fear of what he¡¯d just seen. Lyphon¡¯s words ripped through the tumult of panicked thoughts in his head, like a drowning man resurfacing for a desperate breath. Focus on reality.


    The stool at the woman¡¯s feet, the one Lyphon had sat on. He imagined what it looked like before this creature took hold of his mind. The metallic shine of the nails, the battered, dulled wood. The woman¡¯s gray cloak was once a deep green and her lips blood red. The stones of the floor, the black of the cell bars, the shine of the gold in Nasos¡¯ uniform. He was in a dungeon, a dungeon, a dungeon. He¡¯d been there for days.


    Color exploded across his vision and the pain gripping his skull vanished. The woman¡¯s shocked gaze fastened on him, but then her wide eyes tightened in anger. Grevail focused on what was around him, holding every detail in his mind and searching for any change. Focus on reality. Lyphon was firmly under her sway again, standing still and silently.


    The woman rolled her shoulders. ¡°Impressive. I didn¡¯t expect that from you of all people, though no one can escape me forever. You will come one way or another. I haven¡¯t done all this for nothing.¡±


    The rasp of Lyphon¡¯s sword flying from its sheath sent Grevail¡¯s heart into his throat, but instead of attacking the woman as Grevail expected, the Purifier spun the blade toward his own chest.


    ¡°No!¡± Grevail shouted. ¡°If you kill him I¡¯ll never tell you anything!¡±


    ¡°I tire of these games.¡± The woman said with a sigh, pursing her lips. ¡°Tell me where it is¡­or he dies.¡±


    Grevail licked his lips, wondering if he dared lie to her, then wondered if he dared even think of lying to her. These thoughts roared through him like a swollen river after rain, a rushing wind in a storm.


    ¡°Well?¡± The woman asked. She raised a hand and Lyphon¡¯s blade crept toward his own chest. ¡°What will it be?¡±


    ¡°It is inside a house along the north wall¡­a house with a fox on the gate.¡±


    ¡°A fox?¡± The woman tapped a nail against her cheek and studied Grevail with narrowed eyes. ¡°So you say, but still, I think you must direct me in person.¡±


    Lyphon¡¯s sword clattered to the ground. He spun stiffly and teetered into the cell opposite of Grevail. Nasos crossed the room and closed the door, locking it. He remained standing at the cell door with the key in his fist, face slack and emotionless.


    The woman furrowed her brow at Grevail. ¡°Why do you care for this Purifier who holds you prisoner? Tell me¡ª¡±


    Grevail interrupted her with a snarl. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Azouel,¡± the woman said as if it hardly mattered, ¡°¡­an Aelfic. Perhaps you¡¯ve heard of my kind before?¡± She smirked at the look on Grevail¡¯s face.


    Nasos jerked like a bobbing puppet and came to the door of Grevail¡¯s cell. After shoving in the key, he swung it open.


    ¡°You can come willingly,¡± Azouel suggested. ¡°If not, I can motivate you.¡±


    Grevail forced himself to leave the cell, imagination running wild with what this woman was capable of. Nasos slapped an iron grip around his bicep, though the man¡¯s eyes still looked straight ahead.


    Without another word, the woman turned and walked through the open door. Nasos jerked into motion, dragging Grevail along by the arm, fingers digging into his flesh. As they left the room, Nasos turned and pulled shut the door before following after Azouel.


    ¡°Here!¡± Lyphon¡¯s muffled voice echoed into the hallway. ¡°Aelfic in the Refuge! Here!¡±


    Azouel laughed as if she were at a party. ¡°Such fiery passion these Purifiers have.¡± Her voice dropped to a disappointed whisper. ¡°A shame I have to leave him behind¡­and alive to boot. It¡¯s been so long since I¡¯ve had a Purifier moored¡­a hundred years if not longer.¡±


    The pain in Grevail¡¯s head returned and the color retreated from the edge of his vision. The life of the world slowly leeched away, turning dull, sickly gray. He renewed his focus on what was around him, latching onto any detail at all in a desperate attempt to fend off whatever she was doing. The glow of lanterns on the walls, the texture of his shirt, the shape of the floor stones beneath his feet, anything to keep his hold.


    ¡°Handsome, isn¡¯t he?¡± Azouel said with a nod at Nasos.


    Grevail gasped at the sight of a scaly hand wrapped around his bicep and his gaze traveled up to what should have been Nasos¡¯ face, but instead, an Esh watched Grevail with milky white eyes and a streamer of drool hanging from its chin. It gnashed black teeth, as if waiting for Azouel¡¯s command to attack. ¡°Stop,¡± he grunted at Azouel. ¡°Please.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not so bad, you know. You might not be a big strong Purifier, but you are handsome in your own way. Maybe you¡¯d like to spend a night under my influence?¡± Azouel laughed again, this time with a sultry edge. ¡°You¡¯ll remember everything, and what a memory it will be. Some men tell me the lack of control is¡­exhilarating.¡±


    Grevail ignored her words and instead grounded himself in his surroundings, just as Lyphon said. She¡¯s trying to catch me off guard. He forced himself to remember Nasos¡¯ face. The face he saw sneering as he cried himself to sleep on the hard cell bench. After a moment, the Esh¡¯ skin seemed to smooth and the eyes went from white to black. The facial features reformed into Nasos¡¯ until finally, the guard stood beside him again. The digging pain in his skull faded as the color returned. A wave of relief flooded over him. Whatever she is doing, I can fight it.


    Down the long hallway they went, but not a soul was present this late in the dungeon. Grevail never thought he would wish to see a Thavan, but at this moment, he would be overcome with joy to see even Joszi. Not that Joszi might stand any chance against an Aelfic. They came to an intersection where the hallway split into three. Azouel paused, green cloak swaying around her legs as she looked down each. Nasos directed Grevail to the right with his vice-like grip and Azouel followed.


    Ahead, the door to the garden sat hunched at the end of a dark corridor and when they reached it, Nasos flung it open, dragging Grevail behind him toward the black iron gate.


    Azouel followed, pulling up the hood on her cloak. Her eyes glowed like twin embers in the darkness of the cowl.


    The pain in Grevail¡¯s skull again returned, like thick fingers digging into his brain. He groaned and stumbled forward, struggling to maintain what was around him. If he allowed her to gain any control at all, there would be no Lyphon to divide her attention and save him this time. He focused on the gate ahead, dully shining in the moonlight, dark wrought iron bars painted black. He passed a stone bench, the seat pock-marked with craters and stained green from rain. He stumbled and steadied himself with the garden wall, coated in leafy vines rippling in the breeze. A sudden pain stung his hand.


    He looked down his arm to find a snake working its jaws, fangs buried deep at the confluence of his thumb and index finger. He staggered backward with a bewildered cry and flung the snake across the garden. A vine on the wall grew eyes, then scales, and coiled, hissing with a flicking tongue. The wall became a writhing mass of snakes and they slipped to the ground, slithering toward him. He closed his eyes, remembering the wall just as it was when he entered the garden, even as the hissing snakes began to coil around his feet and climb up his legs. He pictured the wall just as it was when he and Lyphon sparred here. No, they are vines! Vines!


    ¡°Impressive,¡± Azouel said.


    He opened his eyes to find the snakes gone. The pressure in his head subsided.


    ¡°I must say, I¡¯m amazed you handled that so well¡­especially if you¡¯ve never met my kind before. You haven¡¯t, have you?¡± Azouel asked as she reached the gate. She didn¡¯t appear upset at her question going unanswered. ¡°Not even your Purifier friend did so well. I¡¯d love to know how you are doing it, but I sense that there is something...different about you.¡±


    Nasos unlocked the gate and pushed it open, hauling Grevail into the shady cobble street beyond the wall. Shadows moved in the distance and in the lit windows of buildings across the way. The thought of shouting to draw attention crossed his mind.


    ¡°Don¡¯t think about it.¡± Azouel said.


    Grevail suppressed rising panic at the idea the Aelfic was reading his thoughts. ¡°Hey,¡± Grevail said to Nasos. ¡°I know you can hear me.¡±


    ¡°Be quiet,¡± Azouel commanded, hooded head turning to regard Grevail as she walked, ¡°or I¡¯ll have him cut out your tongue.¡±


    Nasos tore a knife from his belt, yet still looked straight ahead as they marched along. Grevail had little doubt that at a command from Azouel, the guard would plunge the blade into his chest. He swallowed his tongue and ripped his eyes from the knife.


    They came to the curving wall of the Refuge and Azouel turned to walk along it in the moonlight until a a small gatehouse appeared ahead. A Keeper stood in a pool of lantern light at the entrance, whistling at the night.


    The guard turned with questioning eyes beneath his kettle helm as they came near. He opened his mouth to speak, but before a word was uttered, he snapped straight. A look of momentary panic washed from his face as the emotionless cast of someone under Azouel¡¯s control came over him. The Thavan stumbled toward a barrel near the Refuge wall and dove in head first. The sound of gurgling reached Grevail¡¯s ears.


    ¡°Stop it,¡± Grevail said as the guard¡¯s legs began to spasm. ¡°Stop it, or I¡¯ll¡ª¡±


    The force of the blow jerked his head around. Grevail rubbed at the bright red welt on his cheek, eyeing Nasos¡¯ uncaring face.


    Azouel laughed, a soft chime in the ringing of Grevail¡¯s ears. ¡°Don¡¯t irk me, boy.¡±


    The pain returned, but Grevail was prepared. The warm orange of the lantern above the gatehouse door. The steel gate hanging on bronze hinges. The sound of his feet scraping along the cobbles as he stumbled away from Azouel.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on down there!¡± A voice broke into the darkness. High atop the Refuge wall, another Keeper looked down on them. ¡°Where is Olen?¡± His eyes widened and he staggered, kettle-helm falling from his head to clang on the ground below. ¡°Stop!¡± he shouted. ¡°Help! Over¡ª¡± The man went stiff as a plank and spun to fall face first out of sight. The impact of his body hitting the street reverberated into the night.


    Shouts erupted inside the Refuge. Commotion came from every angle, the sound of Thavans headed their way.


    Azouel sighed. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you would cause me this much trouble. Had I known¡­¡±


    Nasos marched forward with the ring of keys in hand and unlocked the gate. Then, he grabbed the dagger at his waist and pointed the tip at his own neck.


    Though Nasos had been gleeful in Grevail¡¯s torture, he was horrified by the idea the man was about to kill himself under this creature¡¯s control. ¡°What are you doing? You monster!¡± Grevail cried and rushed at her.


    Azouel only smirked and watched as he fell to the ground, clasping his head in his hands. The painful fingers digging deeper than ever before.


    Nasos plunged the dagger into his neck and sank to his knees. He continued driving the dagger into his own throat, even as blood spilled down his chest and pooled around his legs. Then, he fell forward and went motionless.


    ¡°The next time we meet, I do not think you¡¯ll be so lucky to resist me. Nobody can.¡± Azouel said while watching Grevail writhe on the ground at her feet. She stepped around Nasos and his blood, frowning down at the man as if he¡¯d been so inconsiderate to die where she wished to walk. ¡°I let you go only because I would rather you be loose than in Thavan hands. However, I will not stop searching for you. Run, little rogue. Run while you can.¡± She turned, green cloak fluttering, and disappeared.


    After Azouel left, the painful fingers continued for a few short moments, but then vanished suddenly as if a rope had been cut. Grevail rose, disbelief gripping him at the sight of Nasos¡¯ body. Shouts echoing off the Refuge walls pulled him back to where he was.


    A man rounded a nearby corner, sliding to a stop at the sight of Grevail. ¡°You!¡± he exclaimed breathlessly. His eyes widened at Nasos, then took in the guardsman¡¯s feet sticking out of the rain barrel, widening even more. ¡°It¡¯s the Cythraul! He¡¯s escaped!¡±


    Grevail jumped to his feet and darted into the gate, leaping over Nasos¡¯ body. Dashing down the street, he saw no sign of Azouel but did not have any time to dwell on her whereabouts. He sped away from the Refuge, ducking into several side streets until the shouts of his pursuers faded.


    Turning into an alleyway, he stopped and leaned against a building to catch his breath, then slid to his rump. He would have to find somewhere to hide. When day came, the watch might have his description. The buzzing in his skull from the cube pulled him north, calling to him, just as it had from the cell.

 The Delphines

    Seirod¡¯s mansion loomed like a mountain in the dim light of early morning across the street from where Grevail sat in a narrow crack between two buildings. Luckily, he¡¯d spotted no Thavans from the Refuge, though they must be watching this house too. A shiver ran down his spine. Azouel could even be nearby, ready to grasp hold of his mind before he knew she was there. The scratching of the Emberstone in his head was front and center¡ªharder than ever to ignore. His stomach groaned, twisting in knots at what he was about to do, but also by the mere thought of food.


    After escaping the Refuge, he slept in an alley gutter until the owner of a nearby shop shooed him away with a few kicks for the trouble. At least the man hadn¡¯t called for the watch. Joszi might well have Grevail¡¯s name on the tongue of every watchman. With little else for Grevail to do, he wasted no time in making his way to this house. In the absence of food, money, or shelter, he had only the scratching slither in his head and a name, thanks to Lyphon. Still, he hadn¡¯t seen anyone that Seirod might be, nor had he seen the stableman.


    Guards patrolled the grounds, a suspicious amount for any ordinary home, even a mansion, but Seirod was obviously not an ordinary man. The front door of the house was visible from where Grevail hid, and the short, brown-haired fellow wearing a red cloak walked past it now, sword wiggling at his hip. Grevail wiped a forearm across his brow. Approaching the front would be impossible. The house was surrounded on three sides by a wall three times as tall as he was, the rear of which faced the ramparts of Tamirra, and Grevail had already seen soldiers atop them who would undoubtedly spot him climbing from that direction. He needed a look at the back if he wanted to steal this relic.


    The mansion on the right, a tall and slim structure of white stone drew his eye. The building huddled in the midst of an expansive lawn separating it from the street. Between that house and Seirod¡¯s rose an imposing stone wall. A carpet of thick vines crowded the wall¡¯s top, which might hinder an attempt to climb it or block any view of the area behind Seirod¡¯s house.


    On the left, a building of dark gray stone. Beneath a green slate roof, many large windows crowded with white curtains looked over a lawn dotted with manicured bushes. Another stone wall sat between this house and Seirod¡¯s. If he could climb it, he¡¯d at least get an idea of what was back there.


    He spent another few moments watching the red cloak guard pace around the front door before the man disappeared from view. Grevail stood and peeked into the street. Thankfully, not many city folk were outside at this time, but the Thava and Azouel could be watching. Taking a deep breath, he walked from his hiding spot toward the house on the left.


    Grevail studied the curtain filled windows for any movement while he crossed the road. It seemed empty, but then again, a house that big might seem empty with all of Lowtown inside. A curving gravel path led from the gate to the front of the house, then wrapped around the back where he assumed a stable might be.


    He covered the last few paces to the hedge and paused to look up and down the street, then plunged inside. With the sound of breaking branches and rustling leaves he stumbled onto the lawn and ducked low, crunching his way across the gravel path to the wall beside Seirod¡¯s mansion.


    He pricked his ears for any sound of alarm at his presence, half-expecting a face to appear in a window or a shout to fill the air, but heard only his heart thumping against his chest. He looked up at the top of the wall, running his eye along its length all the way to the rear of the property where it joined another. He set off in that direction.


    When his vision rounded the corner of the house, he found a stable at the end of the gravel path and a wagon sitting outside the open doors. The whinny of a horse stopped him in his tracks. He chewed at his lip with an eye on the stable doors. It¡¯s too late to turn back now, fool! He forced himself forward, relieved to see that no watchmen were atop the city ramparts of Tamirra, towering over Seirod¡¯s house and the wall around it.


    Grevail stopped at the wall separating this house from Seirod¡¯s and craned his neck to scout where he would climb. The stone was rough, and chunks were missing in some spots, enough for him to jam a few fingers for a grip. After getting a good toe hold and taking a deep breath, he started up. Periodically, he glanced over his shoulder to be sure he hadn¡¯t been spotted, though there was little he could do in the event he was. He continued on that way for what seemed half the day, but finally, his hand gripped the top.


    With a groan, he pulled his torso atop the half-pace wide wall and hung there. Another two-story building lay behind Seirod¡¯s mansion, and a stable beside that. A guard stood at a well between the mansion and the rear structures, the one with a black vest and dagger hanging from his belt. The guard circled the well, whistling a tune, then walked away. A cellar door drew Grevail¡¯s gaze, as well as a few entrances to the building itself. The back looked much like the front, though, three stories with a window every ten paces or so.


    He did not see a way inside that would be any easier than if he knocked on the front door. He considered the cellar. From here, he couldn¡¯t see a lock, but it wouldn¡¯t do to sneak his way to it and find it shut tight. If he waited till night, then climbed down this wall to reach that cellar door, he might¡ª


    ¡°You are a fool,¡± a man said.


    Grevail¡¯s breath froze. He looked to the top of a nearby tree poking above the wall where the voice had come from.


    ¡°Seirod isn¡¯t kind to thieves, especially stupid ones.¡±


    A man in a thick brown coat straddled a branch a few paces above the top of the wall and Grevail, resting with his back against the trunk. He wore a hood, and cloth covered his face so that only amber brown eyes were visible. The man gripped an apple in one hand and pointed at Seirod¡¯s mansion with the other. ¡°I¡¯m telling you, it isn¡¯t worth it.¡±


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Grevail asked.


    The man shrugged. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m nobody,¡± Grevail said, preparing himself to scramble down the wall.


    The masked man chuckled. ¡°Me too¡­but from one nobody to another, you should look for an easier mark.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not here to steal,¡± Grevail said. Well, he was, but this was more about revenge.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what else you¡¯d be doing here,¡± the man said, rubbing the apple on his trousers while watching Seirod¡¯s mansion.


    ¡°I have my reasons.¡±


    The man arched a reddish-brown eyebrow as if intrigued. ¡°Is that so? Maybe our reasons are not so different?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not here to steal from him either?¡±


    ¡°No¡­no¡­I¡¯m here for information.¡±


    Grevail stared at him. ¡°What¡ª¡°


    ¡°Hey!¡± Far below at the base of the wall, the red cloaked guard¡¯s face looked up at him.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Red Cloak demanded. He called over his shoulder at Seirod¡¯s mansion. ¡°Over here! Romine! Argae!¡± Red Cloak turned and scurried toward the street, no doubt intending to intercept them on the other side.


    Grevail flinched in a panic, nearly toppling from his perch and only just regaining his balance. He spared a glance at the tree to find the hooded man gone. With a strangled curse he descended, searching for the holds he used on the way up. His foot found one, and just as he moved to drop down, the stone under his toes crumbled. He plummeted toward the ground, hands scraping along the wall.


    Landing hard on his feet, he fell backward onto his rump, emitting a yelp at the crushing pain in his ankle. For a moment he only squirmed on the ground in agony, but then stood and lumbered into a hobbled run toward the street. When he reached the hedge, he launched himself at it head first.


    Red Cloak was already making his way down from Seirod¡¯s mansion and at the sight of Grevail tumbling into the street, gave chase. ¡°Stop! Romine! Over here!¡±


    With Red Cloak closing in, Grevail limped toward an adjoining street and turned down it. The few townsfolk nearby stopped to stare, yet none made a move to intervene. If it were Merchant Row, he could lose a dozen watchmen with a broken leg, but this wasn¡¯t Merchant Row. He stumbled onward, gritting his teeth at the pain and pushing for more speed.


    Red Cloak appeared in his wake with a cry. ¡°Stop him!¡±


    Grevail spotted an alley just ahead and raced into it, searching for a quick place to hide, but instead found tall wood fences on either side hemming him in. With a curse he limped forward, but the sound of something approaching turned his head. A low growl sounded just before a dog slammed into the other side of the fence with a thunk that sent Grevail reeling. His foot caught on something sticking out of the dirt and he careened forward, landing hard on his chest.


    He rolled over just as Red Cloak slowed to a stop at his feet. Gray-blue eyes looked down at him triumphantly and thin lips curved in a confident smile, like a hungry wolf who had caught its prey. ¡°Don¡¯t move!¡± the man said over the barking of the dog, exposing the sword hilt at his waist. ¡°Don¡¯t do anything stupid. We don¡¯t tolerate thieves.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m no thief,¡± Grevail said.


    The man¡¯s grin widened. ¡°Are you a Delphine? You fools don¡¯t know when to give up, do you?¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯m¡­¡° Behind Red Cloak, the masked man from the tree entered the alley, cloth still covering his face. ¡°No,¡± Grevail hurried to say, hoping the guard did not turn around or draw his sword. ¡°I¡­I only wanted to ask you a question.¡±


    Red Cloak snorted. ¡°Of course, but let¡¯s get comfortable first? I know just the place for us to relax and chat. Get up.¡±


    The hooded man broke into a run at them. Red Cloak¡¯s brow furrowed at the sound of footsteps and he began to turn, but did not make it all the way around before the hooded man¡¯s fist thudded into his temple. Red Cloak collapsed with a groan against the fence, incensing the dog on the other side even more.


    The hooded man stood over Red Cloak for a moment with his fist raised, but when it became obvious the man was incapacitated, lowered it and turned to Grevail. ¡°Follow me if you¡¯d rather not wait for his friends,¡± he said, then wasted no time trotting toward the opposite end of the alley. After a glance at Red Cloak who struggled to right himself, Grevail scrambled to his feet, limping after the hooded man.


    ¡°Ashen coward!¡± Red Cloak shouted after them, falling against the fence after another attempt to stand. ¡°You¡¯ll pay for that!¡±


    The hooded man outpaced Grevail, cloak fluttering behind him, and left the alleyway when it came to the street. Grevail lumbered after, groaning in pain with each step. Again in the street, Grevail spotted the stranger weaving through the crowd ahead. The man stopped at the head of another alley, waiting to be sure Grevail had seen him, then disappeared into it.


    When Grevail reached the alley mouth, he found the man leaning against a building, mask and hood removed. Grevail was surprised to see he couldn¡¯t be more than a few years older than himself. He was handsome, with pouting lips and reddish-brown hair.


    Keen amber eyes regarded Grevail in return. ¡°Auphen.¡± He extended a hand.


    Grevail took it. ¡°I¡¯m Grevail¡­thank you.¡±


    Auphen shrugged, as if it wasn¡¯t anything out of the ordinary. ¡°I saw you across the street all morning. Figured you were a thief, but I also thought you¡¯d see sense and get bored. Only a fool would try to sneak into that place with all those guards walking around. Still surprised to see you top the wall next to me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m no thief.¡± Not anymore, anyway. Stealing the relic was about revenge.


    ¡°So you say,¡± Auphen said, though he sounded unconvinced. An awkward silence stretched as Auphen studied him, but then a bright smile arced across the young man¡¯s face. ¡°We could use someone like you. We need people who can keep their eyes open and their mouths shut.¡±


    ¡°Who is we?¡±


    ¡°We call ourselves Delphine¡¯s Companions.¡± When Grevail offered a blank stare in response, Auphen went on. ¡°You¡¯re not from around here?¡±


    ¡°No¡­I¡¯m from the capital.¡±


    Auphen grunted in surprise, glancing at the merit in Grevail¡¯s ear. ¡°Lowtown? I¡¯ve heard so much. Interesting.¡± He stepped toward the mouth of the alley and peeked into the street, then waved Grevail after him. ¡°We should get going before that fellow has his legs under him. Come, I¡¯ll take you to someone I know.¡±


    Grevail went to follow, but a voice in his head gave him pause. What am I getting involved in? ¡°Who?¡±


    The brown-haired young man scoffed and turned, a boyish grin on his face. ¡°You¡¯re not afraid are you? Do you think I¡¯d punch that emberbelly just so I could rob you? I could have let them catch you, you know. Come, I¡¯ll take you to a friend of mine. A hot meal is in it, if nothing else.¡±


    Stolen story; please report.


    Grevail contemplated the offer with a long sigh, wondering if he was about to make a mistake. I¡¯ve already lost my friends. What else do I have to lose? His stomach groaned, as if cajoling him.


    ¡°Well?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll meet with your friend, but I won¡¯t promise anything.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have it any other way,¡± Auphen said with a shrug and left the alley. The young man kept a quick pace, leading Grevail in an easterly direction toward the Urucan gate. ¡°What were you doing at Seirod¡¯s?¡±


    ¡°He knows things I want to know. Why were you there?¡± Grevail still limped along, but the pain was easing. Luckily, it didn¡¯t seem he broke anything. If he had, he didn¡¯t know what he¡¯d do.


    Auphen chuckled at the suspicion in Grevail¡¯s voice. ¡°The same reason, although I think the information we seek might be different.¡±


    Suddenly, Grevail realized that Auphen may have seen the stableman. ¡°Have you seen anybody go into Seirod¡¯s house? An older fellow with long brown hair, blue eyes, stocky¡­has an accent.¡±


    After a moment of thought, Auphen nodded. ¡°Yes, sounds like the Pictay man. He comes and goes, but what he does there I¡¯d love to know.¡±


    Grevail felt as if his blood were boiling. ¡°Me too.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°He killed my friends.¡±


    A sympathetic cast entered Auphen¡¯s eyes and he placed a hand on Grevail¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear that. I knew there was something off about that Pictay man. Things are dire here in Tamirra, not that you would have heard in the capital. If you¡¯re an enemy of Seirod, you¡¯re an ally of mine. We¡¯ve been watching him and a few others as well. If you want to know the secrets of those in the gated houses, nobody knows more than we do. We can talk about that later, come.¡±


    Auphen headed back to the highway, and as they walked down it, a large complex of several buildings rose on the horizon. It was surrounded by a high wall, and the central structure was topped by a large, white dome. It struck Grevail as an odd building, though beautiful. He couldn¡¯t think of any other like it that he¡¯d ever seen. Two guards standing at the entrance in watch tunics seemed to have more interest in the clouds than anyone passing in the street. Still, he reminded himself that Joszi might have given the watch his name and ducked his head as they passed.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Grevail asked, stealing looks at the building from the corner of his eye.


    ¡°That¡¯s the Council House. It¡¯s where the council of nobles convenes and where, Daryn, the Khos of Tamirra resides. It¡¯s also home to the Pillar of Justice,¡± Auphen scoffed, ¡°as it is so called anyway.¡±


    ¡°Beware the lies!¡± shouted a man in the shadow of the domed building. He offered a flier to a passerby from a stack he held. ¡°I can tell you are good Eudan! Daryn is the rightful Khos! Do not listen to the lies of Carbathe!¡± He shoved another flier under the nose of a woman. ¡°May the ash bury you if you do!¡± He wore a blue and white cloth around his neck, the colors of Eudan.


    ¡°Who is Carbathe? Is he on the council?¡±


    Auphen responded with a grim nod. ¡°Yes, but he isn¡¯t satisfied with only that. He claims Daryn is unfit for the role.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Well, when the Khos passes or retires, they select someone to succeed them, usually from among the other nobles. Carbathe thought it should have been him instead of Daryn, and he wants Daryn to step down. But that isn¡¯t all Carbathe wants. We think he is working with the Urucan.¡±


    ¡°Urucan?¡± Grevail snorted, though Auphen¡¯s serious gaze silenced him. Before the young man could respond, a pair of wide doors burst open in the Council House wall and a row of soldiers in glittering mail over white and blue tunics marched out. First, a block of men with sword and shield, then another of spears, and finally men carrying bows. They marched toward Auphen and Grevail, feet thumping the ground. A mounted man at their head wore a shining breastplate and sported a large red plume in his helmet.


    Grevail motioned at them. ¡°What is this?¡±


    ¡°The Fyrd.¡±


    Grevail mouthed the word. ¡°Where are they going?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± Auphen said, watching the men march past. ¡°I¡¯m surprised to see them leaving,¡± he went on, as if it made him uneasy. ¡°You don¡¯t have a Fyrd in the capital?¡±


    Grevail shook his head. ¡°We do have the Khossoroi, though. I suppose they are kind of like that,¡± he said with a glance toward the soldiers.


    When the Fyrd had filed out of view toward the north gate, Auphen continued leading him south. Grevail tried to ignore the cramping in his stomach that grew worse for every tavern or inn they passed and the wonderful smells spilling from them into the street. A woman working a stand with meat pastries smiled at him, and before he could stop himself, thought of using his old tricks to swipe one from under her nose. He sighed. When they left the capital what felt like years ago, he thought he¡¯d never have to steal again when they sold the stone. A pang of regret struck him as he recalled Gaston¡¯s body laying face down on the bridge. He cleared his throat and wiped at his eyes, pushing his friends¡¯ faces from his mind.


    After walking quite some distance down the highway, the south gate soon towered above them. On the other side of it would be Uruca. At any other time, Grevail would have been excited by the idea of being so close to the border with the reviled and fabled Urucan every Eudan had heard about since they were sprouts. Several watchmen streamed in and out of a gatehouse beside the gate, but none of the¡­Fyrd. Grevail supposed they didn¡¯t stand watch at the gates like the Khossoroi did.


    Following behind Auphen toward the gate, Grevail glimpsed a speck of pearly-white bobbing through the crowd ahead. Thyma stopped to admire the clothing on a mannequin outside a shop. ¡°Let¡¯s go this way,¡± Grevail said, spinning on his heel and darting toward an adjoining street.


    ¡°Where are you going?¡± Auphen asked, dancing through the crowd in pursuit. ¡°We¡¯re almost there!¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s take a different way,¡± Grevail said over his shoulder.


    Thyma left the store window and continued on in his direction. She wouldn¡¯t tell Joszi, would she? He didn¡¯t want to find out. Pushing through the throng and receiving a few disgruntled words in return, he ducked off the highway.


    Auphen caught up and arched a questioning eyebrow at him. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Just someone I don¡¯t want to talk to.¡±


    A frown bent Auphen¡¯s lips, but he only shrugged and took the lead again. ¡°Alright, well¡­we¡¯re not far.¡±


    A short while later, Auphen angled toward a tavern with a painted sign hanging from the eave of a farmer hauling a golden bushel of wheat on his shoulder. ¡®The Lucky Harvest¡¯ it read. Auphen strode up to the door, flinging it open, and a gale of noise washed over them. The place was busy with full tables and a bar lined with turned backs, all saturated in the overpowering drone of conversation. It reminded Grevail of Maedra¡¯s, though it didn¡¯t appear as rowdy. Auphen wound through the packed tables toward a far corner where a space had been left clear for a small dias, atop which a man spoke before a number of seated listeners.


    ¡°¡­I don¡¯t believe it!¡± exclaimed a seated man.


    ¡°Nobody does,¡± said the speaker in a clear, strong voice. He sported short, dark hair, and matching black eyes scanned the audience in front of him. ¡°Carbathe and his cronies can say what they like, but we know the truth!¡±


    ¡°Aritane,¡± said a fat man in a wrinkled coat, ¡°we¡¯ve been saying this since winter. Every day more people are drawn in by Carbathe and his nonsense.¡±


    Auphen stopped behind those seated. Grevail waited at his shoulder, searching the crowd for anyone who might know him. He didn¡¯t think this was the kind of place Joszi or Lyphon would visit, but it would be just his luck.


    A woman raised a mug to the fat man¡¯s words. ¡°If we don¡¯t do something soon it will be the whole town!¡±


    Another woman spoke up. ¡°Stephos said he agreed with Carbathe.¡±


    The fat man gasped and nearly spilled his mug, juggling it in his hands. He directed an incredulous stare at the woman. ¡°Not Stephos!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Aritane,¡± Auphen said with a nod to the man on the dias. ¡°He is one of the best Delphines we have.¡± Grevail asked if that¡¯s who he was here to see, but Auphen shook his head.


    Aritane waved his listeners to silence. ¡°Stephos is but one man.¡±


    ¡°But even him?¡± said the fat man. ¡°He used to be one of us!¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter!¡± Aritane growled. ¡°If Stephos can be swayed so easily, he was of no use to us anyway. We must continue our work! We cannot give up. We will continue to recruit and inform. We must remain vigilant for when the time comes.¡± Aritane turned toward a young woman with shining black hair and deep blue eyes sitting near the dias at the front of the audience. ¡°Alisia has plans for all of you until we meet next week. Once again, any contributions you can make to the coffers will help our cause. Even more important than that, however, tell your friends, neighbors and loved ones that the time has come to defend our city against Carbathe¡¯s¡ª¡±


    ¡°Hey you!¡± The slurred shout broke over the cacophony of the tavern, plunging it into silence and drawing every eye. A man stumbled from the bar and pointed at Aritane with a drunken grin. ¡°Would you shut up with that crazy talk! We¡¯re here to drink!¡±


    The final word had yet to leave the drunkards lips before a man with arms as big as tree trunks pushed through the crowd and grabbed him by the collar, yanking him off his feet. The heckler protested and struggled, feet thumping the hardwood floor, but to little avail as he was dragged across it. Cheers and shouting erupted, egging the bouncer on as he hauled the troublemaker to the door and ejected him through it with a kick to the rump for good measure. The big man then turned to Aritane and inclined his head.


    ¡°Thank you, Bipho!¡± Aritane said. ¡°Remember, Parxo¡¯s tavern is our second home! He believes in our cause. We have a list of shop owners who are known Carbathe supporters and we do not give them our coin! If they sport a purple rose, your purse stays closed! Come to me if you have any questions. That will be all for tonight! Speak to Alisia about your tasks and we¡¯ll see you next time!¡±


    The seated people rose and began to talk amongst themselves. Many moved toward the young woman, Alisia, and spoke to her too.


    Aritane stepped off the dias and wove through the audience to stand at Auphen¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Any good news?¡±


    ¡°Some, but not worth an acre of swamp,¡± Auphen grunted.


    Aritane grimaced, then nodded at Grevail. ¡°Who is this?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve brought him to see Alisia.¡±


    Aritane raised an eyebrow and gave Grevail another look. ¡°Well, we can always use the help if you think he¡¯s right for it.¡±


    Auphen issued a confident nod. ¡°I think we can help each other.¡±


    Aritane motioned at Grevail¡¯s soiled clothes. ¡°Interesting garb you are wearing.¡±


    Grevail¡¯s face reddened. ¡°I¡¯ve¡­been¡­down on my luck.¡±


    Aritane smiled. ¡°No shame in that, young man. We are all on hard times with Carbathe around. Part of what we do here is take care of each other, like family. Where are you from?¡±


    ¡°The capital,¡± Grevail said.


    ¡°Oh¡­a northerner?¡± Aritane¡¯s lips pursed at the merit in Grevail¡¯s ear. ¡°What brings you here?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m looking for someone.¡± If this isn¡¯t who I¡¯m supposed to meet, who is? Grevail turned a questioning gaze on Auphen only to realize he had disappeared.


    ¡°If Auphen brought you, he must have reason,¡± Aritane said and cast an uneasy eye over the crowd. ¡°We have to be on the lookout for Carbathe¡¯s followers.¡± He stepped close and dropped his voice to a whisper. ¡°We know who they are.¡±


    Grevail shifted his feet but Aritane was quick to offer another smile. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not accusing you.¡±


    Alisia materialized from the crowd at Aritane¡¯s shoulder. She greeted Grevail with cool blue eyes in a pretty face framed by lustrous black hair. The unadorned green coat and trousers she wore looked too big on her diminutive frame. ¡°Grevail?¡± He nodded and she wasted no time. ¡°Come, we can talk over here. Care to join us, Aritane?¡±


    Aritane shook his head. ¡°I have some things I should see to.¡± He extended his hand and Grevail took it. ¡°It was nice to meet you, Grevail. I hope to see you again. You are in good hands,¡± he said with a smile for Alisia.


    After Aritane departed, Alisia led him to a secluded table in the corner. ¡°So,¡± she began when they were seated, ¡°Auphen told me how you two met and why you were at Seirod¡¯s.¡±


    ¡°He said we could help each other,¡± Grevail said.


    Alisia nodded. ¡°We can, I think. First, I¡¯d like to know a little more about you.¡±


    Grevail shifted in his chair, remembering Joszi¡¯s threat to offer a thousand ess for his capture. While surely exaggeration, it still could be there was ess on his head. Would these Delphines turn him in for an easy profit? On the other hand, he stood little chance of gaining access to the relic on his own with Seirod¡¯s house guarded the way it was. ¡°What do you want to know?¡±


    ¡°I need to know why the Pictay man killed your friends,¡± she said, eyes narrowing, ¡°¡­and what you want to do about it.¡± She pulled a few shining black strands of hair behind her ears with a finger and waited for his answer.


    Grevail searched for the right words before speaking. ¡°We¡­came into possession of something that Seirod wanted. He sent a man after us. Auphen said he is a Pictay man.¡±


    ¡°Arxaro is his name.¡±


    ¡°The Pictay man is named Arxaro?¡±


    ¡°Yes. So what was this thing?¡±


    Grevail hesitated. He did not want to tell her about the relic. They might drag him out of the tavern like that drunk. There was no telling if Alisia was Sacar---she didn¡¯t have any manifests about her, but even if she didn¡¯t, the relic might be enough for her to turn him in. Although, if these Delphines had been spying on Seirod, they might already know about the relic or at least that he has interest in such things. He took a deep breath. ¡°It was¡­an Emberfolk relic.¡±


    ¡°Emberfolk?¡± Alisia¡¯s eyes went wide.


    Grevail raised a hand to stop her short, then leaned close to whisper, casting a quick glance around the tavern. ¡°I¡¯m no Breaker. We just wanted to sell it. We didn¡¯t know what it was when we found it,¡± he lied, then went on. ¡°Arxaro took it and killed my friends.¡±


    ¡°Interesting,¡± Alisia said, ¡°is Seirod a Breaker? Perhaps we should just make a trip to the Refuge and tell them about it¡­might take care of that problem at least¡­but it could complicate matters as well.¡± She became lost in thought for a moment before noticing the look on his face. ¡°I¡¯m no Breaker either, or Sacar, but the Thava is the last thing we need to deal with.¡±


    Grevail heaved a relieved breath. ¡°I don¡¯t want it. I just want to find out how my friends died.¡±


    Her deep blue eyes, like polished stones, studied him for a long time. Her features softened. ¡°You told Auphen you were after information, but I think you are after revenge.¡±


    ¡°I am,¡± Grevail admitted. ¡°I just want to¡­I want to avenge my friends.¡± He wanted to kill Seirod and the Stableman for what they did, but for some reason, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to say it. He didn¡¯t even know if he could do it. He¡¯d never killed anyone, even after a life in Lowtown, but one thing he could do was steal that relic. Alisia wouldn¡¯t have to know about that. The only reason he wanted to steal it was so Seirod would not have it.


    She seemed to sense what was on his mind. ¡°Sometimes¡­death is not the best punishment.¡±


    Grevail raised an eyebrow. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    She sighed and leaned across the table, tuning her voice low. ¡°We think that Seirod is scheming with Carbathe to overthrow Daryn, but that isn¡¯t all. We suspect Carbathe has been meeting with the Urucan in secret too. We can¡¯t prove anything yet, but that man¡¯s ambitions go beyond merely becoming Khos of Tamirra.¡±


    A disbelieving scoff escaped Grevail¡¯s lips before he could stop it. Everything he¡¯d heard about Tamirrans seemed to be true. They were so suspicious of the Urucan, he was surprised they didn¡¯t think he was one. ¡°The Urucan? How is Carbathe going to do that? Won¡¯t the Khos and the Epikhos stop him?¡±


    The young woman¡¯s hand thumped the table. ¡°I¡¯m serious.¡± Her eyes bored into Grevail as if they could burn him to ash, but after a moment, she waggled her head. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, it¡¯s just that¡­we have no shortage of naysayers, even after everything we¡¯ve found.¡±


    It was Grevail¡¯s turn to apologize. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to offend¡­¡±


    She waved a hand. ¡°You don¡¯t have to believe it now¡­but I know you will in time, just as we all have. We can both get what we want in the meantime¡­revenge on Seirod. You for your friends, and me for what he plans to do with my city.¡±


    ¡°What do you want me to do?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been watching Carbathe and his ring of conspirators for some time, but they¡¯ve caught on to us. They¡¯ve hired guards to chase us down on sight. More of our faces are known to them than I¡¯d like and it is getting harder to watch their movements. We need people who are not afraid of the nobles, and you showed that at Seirod¡¯s, even if you and Auphen were nearly caught.¡±


    ¡°So¡­you want me to watch them?¡± He couldn¡¯t help but feel he was miring himself in swamp mud up to his neck.


    ¡°We will have many things for you to do. You want to get back at Seirod and so do I¡­but¡­I can¡¯t have you watch Seirod when his guards are sure to know your face.¡± She thrummed her fingers on the table, uttering a curse.


    Grevail tongued his cheek and studied his hands. He hadn¡¯t considered that, though it seemed obvious now.


    A young man appeared at the table with a mug in one hand and a plate of sliced roast beef in the other. He shoved them both in front of Grevail with a wink at Alisia.


    Alisia nodded at the food. ¡°Consider this on us.¡± She rose from her chair and looked down at him. Oddly, he found that her serene gaze put him at ease, even with the tumult of thoughts spinning through his head. She placed a hand on his shoulder. ¡°After you¡¯ve eaten, you can find me over there. If you want to join us, we¡¯ll give you somewhere to sleep. Help us, and we will help you.¡± She looked into his eyes a moment longer, then departed.

 Conspirator

    Carbathe¡¯s estate glowed like a candle in the depth of night below them. Grevail, Aritane, and Auphen hid on a tree covered hilltop several hundred paces away which possessed a good view of the entire compound. Grevail wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. Aritane would not allow a fire, since it might alert Carbathe to their presence.


    It had been several days since he¡¯d met these Delphines. Alisia had given him a room in her own house, but so far, he¡¯d done nothing but twiddle his thumbs and eat her food while trying to ignore the scratching in his head that pulled him toward Seirod¡¯s home. That all changed two days ago when she called him to her sitting room with Auphen and Aritane, assigning them all this task.


    Several leagues from Tamirra in the countryside, they had followed Carbathe to this estate with orders from Alisia to watch for anything suspicious. A long sigh left Grevail. They¡¯d seen nothing of note in that time. ¡°How long are we going to spend out here?¡± he asked. This was getting him no closer to the Emberstone and his revenge on Seirod. He could still feel the pull of the relic, but lesser than it had been before, like a tiny tickling on his brain.


    ¡°We follow our orders,¡± Aritane said. ¡°As long as it takes.¡± The man sat with his back against a tree, whisking a knife along a whetstone. ¡°Alisia told us to watch Carbathe until he returns to Tamirra¡­so we watch Carbathe until he returns to Tamirra.¡± The dark haired man fixed Grevail with a stare that dared him to argue.


    Grevail turned back to studying the wide, bowl-shaped valley below where Carbathe¡¯s estate sat, bathed in the purple tint of Lusin and surrounded by fenced pastures of cattle. A handful of buildings lay at the center, the largest of which was the residence where Carbathe secluded himself only to emerge for brief periods during the day. A few servants worked the farm, though strangely, Grevail had yet to see even one guardsman. If Carbathe really were planning what Aritane and Auphen claimed, Grevail thought the man would have at least a dozen bodyguards on hand. The Delphines insisted a coup instigated by Carbathe was imminent, and yet more ridiculous to Grevail, they believed the nobleman had involved the Urucan somehow. Why am I wasting my time with this?


    ¡°Tonight may be the night,¡± Auphen said as if sensing Grevail¡¯s frustration, something the young man seemed to do regularly. ¡°Carbathe often retires to his various estates to avoid detection and meet with conspirators. I know waiting out here isn¡¯t very¡­thrilling, but it must be done. Tamirrans are ignorant of Carbathe¡¯s plans. It is our duty to bring them into the light where Daryn can see them.¡±


    Aritane¡¯s whetstone continued to whisk away and he spoke without looking up from it. ¡°So far, we haven¡¯t had the chance to whisper what we¡¯ve found into Daryn¡¯s ears¡­though admittedly, our evidence isn¡¯t conclusive. Most people seem to consider us as conspiratorial as we do Carbathe, whom they believe is simply a disgruntled man that will eventually come around.¡± Aritane gave an incredulous shake of his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know how long they think it will take for him to see sense, but no matter how dangerous Carbathe¡¯s rhetoric becomes, people still do not take him seriously¡­except for us of course.¡±


    Auphen grumbled at the night. ¡°By the time they do take us seriously it will be too late and whatever trap Carbathe is preparing will have sprung. We can¡¯t let that happen, Grevail, or Tamirra will never be the same.¡±


    It isn¡¯t my city, he thought, but even as he did, felt some embarrassment. These people had taken him in, given him food and a place to sleep. He was no closer to Seirod, but he would be far worse off if it wasn¡¯t for these Delphines. Why should I care what they think of Carbathe?


    A moment of silence stretched until it was interrupted by Auphen jerking straight with a soft gasp. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± he said, pointing down the hill.


    Grevail squinted into the night at the shadowy estate below them. Several riders, only just visible in the faint torchlight, had emerged from the darkness and were making their way toward the central building. ¡°Visitors¡­but how are we to know what kind?¡±


    Aritane tucked the whetstone into his coat pocket and came to kneel at the crest of the ridge with Grevail. ¡°We must get closer and see who they are. A noble¡¯s retinue perhaps, but we can¡¯t be sure until we see faces. Come.¡± The older man clapped Grevail on the shoulder and left the hilltop, descending the slope.


    Grevail stared at Aritane¡¯s receding form as it disappeared into the night. Is he mad? What is he going to do? Knock on the door?


    ¡°Come on,¡± Auphen said, still crouching nearby. Unlike Grevail felt, the young man looked as comfortable as if he were lounging at home in his favorite chair instead of prowling around a nobleman¡¯s property under the cover of night. ¡°Stay quiet and follow us.¡± After a reassuring nod for Grevail, Auphen descended behind Aritane.


    Grevail hesitated for a moment, then breathed a sigh and hurried to follow before he lost them in the dark. He picked his way down the rocky, sparsely forested hillside with careful steps to avoid stepping on a loose stone or into a hole. Still, he did stumble, just catching himself before he fell. With a wry scoff he imagined himself tumbling down to the bottom in an avalanche of debris, alerting Carbathe and his guests.


    They found Aritane waiting for them near the bottom of the slope and tailed him into the dark where they came upon the first fence line. The cattle were quiet except for the occasional bellow, but most laid on the ground sleeping. Carbathe¡¯s estate was only a few hundred paces away now, lit by lamps and torches in a warm orange glow.


    Aritane climbed over the fence to crouch on the other side in the pasture, waving for Auphen and Grevail to join him. ¡°Keep your head down and don¡¯t disturb them,¡± the dark-haired man said, nodding toward the cattle. ¡°We will use them as cover to get close enough. If Carbathe and his guests see movement out here, hopefully they think it is nothing more than a few restless cows. This is what we were waiting for. We need to know who these people are.¡±


    With that, Aritane crept down the fence line toward the buildings, keeping far enough away from the still forms of livestock so as not to frighten them into motion. The fence they followed eventually came within a few dozen paces of the residence, and ahead, an open window spilled amber light onto the ground outside.


    Aritane took up position across from the window, peeking at it over the fence as Grevail and Auphen joined him. A table covered with tankards and dishes was visible inside, though not much else, but the faint murmur of voices escaped the building. After a moment of watching the window, Aritane motioned at Auphen. ¡°Go round to the other side,¡± he whispered. ¡°Be careful.¡±


    Auphen inclined his head and moved onward past them, disappearing into the night.


    Though Aritane too looked as calm as if he were going for a stroll, Grevail felt like he struggled to breath. Any flicker of shadow or hint of sound was enough to send his heart racing. Nearby, several cattle lay sleeping beneath Lusin¡¯s purple light, yet some remained awake, heads bent to the ground and tails swishing.


    Peeking between the rough logs of the fence at the window, they waited in the cool night for any movement, and after some time, a man with snow-white hair came into view. At the man¡¯s shoulder was a young, dark-haired woman in a cream colored dress whose nose dominated her face.


    ¡°Is that Carbathe?¡± Grevail whispered at Aritane. Although the Delphines had described the man, Grevail had yet to see him except at a distance.


    Aritane nodded but did not speak, keeping his eyes trained on the window.


    Carbathe walked to the table and sat, but the man who followed him into the room drew Grevail¡¯s eye. He possessed the strangest appearance Grevail had ever seen. His arms were covered in tattoos, in fact, every patch of skin visible below his jawline was tattooed. His head was shaved and he sported a peculiar, braided beard. Other men came to sit at the table too, dressed in black leather jerkins and orange cloth like the strange man, with braided beards and tattoos. Grevail had heard enough tales and legends to have little doubt who these men were.


    ¡°Urucan,¡± Aritane growled. ¡°We must hear every word we can, Grevail. Be quiet¡­our lives depend on it.¡± The man squeezed between the logs of the fence to crouch on the other side, then made his way to the Carbathe¡¯s residence, steering wide of the yellowed light the window cast on the ground. Grevail held his breath as Aritane crossed the road, sure that the men inside would notice, but he reached the building without being spotted, then crept down it toward the open window. He waved for Grevail to follow.


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Grevail glanced from Aritane, to the Urucan, then back again. Uttering a curse, he squeezed through the fence. He scampered in Aritane¡¯s footsteps, hardly daring to breath for fear of making noise. He did emit a relieved sigh when he reached the building without raising any alarm, and then he too scooted along the wall until he was shoulder to shoulder with Aritane, the open window just beside them.


    ¡°Of course I am pleased to have you here at my estate,¡± said a booming voice inside. ¡°Soon, there will be no need for secrecy.¡± The words were followed by a chorus of laughter.


    ¡°We are pleased to discuss matters with any Eudans who see as clearly as you do, Carbathe,¡± another man said.


    ¡°Most Eudans do not,¡± Carbathe agreed. ¡°If they did, Daryn would never have been appointed as Khos by Saulderin, or at the very least, would have been removed by Amphid. A commoner? As Khos?¡± Carbathe scoffed. ¡°That has no place in Eudan, and if everyone believes it does, perhaps I have no place in Eudan!¡±


    ¡°Such a practice has no place in Uruca, I assure you, but as you¡¯ve told us,¡± the Urucan said, ¡°Tamirra is your birthright.¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Carbathe again agreed. ¡°I was born to lead her, and I would be now if it wasn¡¯t for that impostor.¡± A thump sounded, chased by the metallic rattle of silverware. ¡°He seizes every opportunity to make light of this shameful fact. His rule is a farce! I was raised from a babe with my every moment preparing me to one day sit beneath the dome. I spent my youth learning how to behave and what needs to be done. How did Daryn spend his youth? Turning the spit in Saulderin¡¯s kitchens? Ha! This peasant has no idea how to govern my city. The people need a real leader! Ridiculous!¡±


    ¡°Amphid does not appreciate you, Carbathe. He has grown weak and soft. The Epikhos is not the same man his ancestors were¡­his blood is not what it used to be. He has as much right to land north of the Phantha as a Phocan dancer.¡±


    Carbathe laughed, a thundering guffaw, yet it deflated into a tired sigh. ¡°It is true. All of Eudan has become weak and soft. You know they tremble at the very idea of Urucan crossing the river. It is pathetic! Amphid has allowed the Spades to control the swamp¡ªa thing his forefathers would have never dreamt of doing. The commoners grow poor and go hungry from it. The capital has become a slum because of it. Yet still, the people do nothing. The man is a tyrant and should have been hanged from the highest tower of the palace long ago. People so weak as this are unfit to have a nation!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve had word that Daryn sent the Fyrd north.¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­yes. You heard? Not that the Fyrd are what they used to be either. Brigands in Astranid¡¯s marsh, apparently. I can¡¯t imagine how they might have come to be there!¡±


    Grevail sat in disbelief with mouth agape at what Carbathe was saying. The Delphine¡¯s suspicion of the man certainly seemed warranted now. He glanced at Aritane but the older man was busy listening to the conversation. Surely, Daryn had to be suspicious of Carbathe too.


    A sudden commotion inside brought Grevail from his thoughts.


    ¡°What was that?¡± Carbathe said.


    ¡°Is someone out there?¡± said another man.


    ¡°Delphines!¡± Carbathe barked.


    In the screeching of chairs and clatter of crockery, a surge of thumping footsteps left the table, heading away from the window. Aritane bolted from the building, grabbing Grevail by the arm and pulling him toward the fence where they both vaulted over.


    ¡°Stop!¡± came a shout from Carbathe¡¯s residence behind them. ¡°Stop there!¡±


    Aritane did not so much as pause and raced into the field with Grevail tight on his heels. The cattle, disturbed by the shouts and potential forms of predators leaping about amongst them, staggered to their feet with fearful bellows and scattered into the night.


    Racing across the field, the pounding of distant horse hooves somewhere behind them reached Grevail¡¯s ears as he and Aritane lept over yet another fence. The dark-haired man led Grevail along it in a crouch, toward the hill where they had watched from earlier, and where they were to meet if anything went wrong.


    With a start, Grevail remembered Auphen. ¡°What about Auphen?¡± he asked, following behind Aritane as they left the last fence to traverse between the bushes and boulders beyond the pasture.


    ¡°If he escaped, he will be up there,¡± Aritane said, motioning at the hill.


    ¡°What?¡± Grevail asked, dumbfounded. ¡°They¡¯ll kill him if he got caught, won¡¯t they?¡±


    ¡°It is the risk we take,¡± Aritane said in a grim voice as they arrived at the bottom of the slope.


    Grevail looked to the top of the hill but so no sign of Auphen on the ascent. Lusin hung just above the crest, a fat purple ball nestled among twinkling stars. Aritane began to climb and Grevail followed in his footsteps. They used the few trees protruding from the rocky face as cover, moving from one to the next while below in the valley, riders raced alongside the fields of roiling cattle, calling to each other with angry shouts that echoed in the night.


    When Aritane and Grevail clambered to the top, they found the small, flat area empty. ¡°He¡¯s been captured,¡± Grevail said, a note of disbelief touching his voice.


    Aritane grunted, a noise that could have meant anything. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be sure. Auphen can take care of¡ª¡± the rustle of brush nearby cut him short.


    ¡°You sound disappointed, Grevail,¡± Auphen said as he stepped from behind a tree. A bright and mischievous smile arced across the young man¡¯s face. ¡°Are you starting to like it here with us?¡±


    ¡°Auphen,¡± Aritane growled. ¡°This isn¡¯t the time for playing games. Follow me. We must leave before these Urucan get it in their heads to cast the search wider.¡±


    Together with Auphen in tow, they left the hilltop down the opposite side from Carbathe¡¯s estate, leaving the bellowing cattle and calls of the Urucan behind. Around them, the dark landscape lit only by Lusin¡¯s violet gaze was motionless and silent.


    Grevail still felt some surprise at what Carbathe said. He had spent his first days with these Delphines thinking they might be mad, but now, he didn¡¯t see how they could be wrong. ¡°You heard what he said, didn¡¯t you, Aritane? Ashes, I think he hates Eudan. What are you going to do?¡±


    Aritane glanced over his shoulder. ¡°I know it may surprise you, Grevail, but we have known these things about Carbathe for some time. Our greatest battle so far has not been fought with him, but with our own people¡ªconvincing them to believe what we know. Ashen embers, Auphen, how did you let yourself be seen? Who knows what else they may have spoken about tonight.¡±


    ¡°It was worth it, Aritane,¡± Auphen said while trailing behind the man. He dropped his voice to a whisper. ¡°You didn¡¯t see him, did you?¡± When Aritane remained silent, Auphen spoke again. ¡°I saw Patalla.¡±


    Aritane jerked to a stop and turned, eyebrows climbing to his scalp. ¡°You saw him?¡±


    ¡°He was there. I got a bit too close and they saw me¡­but I would not mistake that tattooed brute for anyone else. Alisia will be over the moon.¡±


    Aritane guffawed and resumed walking. ¡°Now that is good news. Alisia will be pleased indeed.¡±


    ¡°Who is Patalla?¡± Grevail asked.


    ¡°The Urucan prince,¡± Auphen said. ¡°We believe he is the antagonist behind Carbathe and this whole scheme. If Oda, the Urucan Epikhos has any involvement, we haven¡¯t seen proof of it, though his son may be proof enough. Carbathe has mentioned Patalla several times but tonight is the first time we¡¯ve seen his bearded face. The weight of him and his Toads stepping foot on Eudan soil.¡±


    Aritane¡¯s voice was rough with anger. ¡°Carbathe invited these conspirators into his own home.¡±


    An Urucan prince? Grevail furrowed his brow, wondering just what kind of situation he had mired himself in. Fighting Urucan would get him no closer to Seirod, in fact, it might get him killed. ¡°Aren¡¯t you afraid Carbathe will find out who you are?¡±


    Aritane shook his head. ¡°We will not stop. He knows some of our faces but he can¡¯t respond out in the open¡­yet. We all know the dangers, Grevail. Alisia may have forgotten to tell you, but the most important rule we Delphines have is that we never talk. I would embrace death before I reveal your names or our plans. The only thing that stands between Carbathe and whatever he plans to do, is us.¡±


    Auphen clapped. ¡°Well said¡­well said, Aritane. See, Grevail. I told you he is the best Delphine we have. Just don¡¯t let him scare you off with his talk of dying for the cause. That is only a very last resort, otherwise, we intend to stay alive and stop Carbathe.¡± The young man turned while walking and clapped Grevail on the shoulder. ¡°How does completing your first assignment feel?¡±


    Grevail shook his head. He¡¯d been sneaking around and stealing things his entire life, but never did he steal from nobles like Carbathe¡ªthat was a good way to find yourself in an early grave. Of course, he¡¯d never crossed an Urucan either. He¡¯d never even seen one until tonight. Life in Lowtown was no doubt dangerous, but even so, these Delphines possessed a courage far beyond snatching bread to eat. ¡°I¡¯m glad we¡¯re all alive and we got what we needed.¡± What they needed, he reminded himself. None of this got him any closer to Seirod.


    Again, Auphen seemed to sense what was on his mind. ¡°We¡¯ll get to Seirod. He is in this just as deeply as Carbathe. We suspect he has played a pivotal role but we lack the evidence to be certain. The man has proved a tough nut to crack but we¡¯ll open him up and see what is inside. Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll have revenge for your friends, Grevail.¡±


    After a few moments of walking along in silence, Aritane spoke. ¡°Do you know who the girl in the dress is, Auphen? Did you see her?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but I don¡¯t know who she is. Odd that Carbathe would have her there¡­on this of all nights.¡±


    Aritane grunted his agreement. ¡°He must trust her a great deal to meet with such people in her presence. I wonder if she arrived with the Urucan or if we somehow missed her when following Carbathe. Unfortunate that Urucan women do not mark themselves with tattoos like the men do. It would make them easier to spot.¡±


    ¡°Why is it strange she was there?¡± Grevail asked.


    Marching at the head of their little column, Aritane led them further into the night and the road back to Tamirra. ¡°Carbathe does not usually have women at his estates. He once had a wife, though she died some time ago, and while some claim the circumstances of her death were mysterious, no evidence has ever come to light. In any case, Carbathe has made a name for himself recently with his rabid, if unsuccessful pursuit of Lady Erphele. This young woman¡¯s presence may mean his desires have changed, which would be noteworthy¡­perhaps something we could use.¡±


    Lady Erphele. The name sounded familiar to Grevail but he couldn¡¯t quite put his finger on why.

 Traitors

    The Emberstone glittered, shining in his hand. The pinpoint of pale blue light behind the glass circle became an inferno, until he was blinded, then died away. He held the relic extended, standing beside his bed in Alisia¡¯s house. Through the open window beside him poured Nila¡¯s yellow light.


    The sound of laughter drifted into absolute silence. A woman¡¯s laughter. Grevail turned to the window, pricking his ears and searching the still, dark buildings across the way. The laughter sounded again¡ªthis time closer. As he made his way to the window the planks under his feet neither groaned or whined, though he knew they did.


    Like a cascading harp, the laughter bubbled from the courtyard. He leaned through the window¡­and his breath froze. A soldier stood in the courtyard, looking back at him from inside massive slabs of black metal. The face remained obscured in the darkness of a helm, yet Grevail knew their eyes met. The menacing being raised a hand and jabbed a finger at the window. Grevail flinched, and though it was only a moment, when he opened his eyes the soldier was gone.


    A dream, he reminded himself, but even so, the silence of this place was unnerving. The chiming laugh of a woman sounded again, now in the street beyond the courtyard. With a frown, he left the window. Down the stairs he went, through the eerie, silent house and out the front door.


    The courtyard was empty and no strange soldier stood waiting for him, even if it felt like something should be. The vines hanging from the walls shimmered in a wind he did not hear or feel. The Emberstone glowed like a lantern in his hand, casting shifting blue light across the courtyard.


    ¡°Grevail¡­¡± said a woman beyond the courtyard wall. Her voice tickled at his memory.


    Grevail walked to the gate and pushed. It floated away from him on silent hinges he knew squealed horribly. He stepped into an empty street lined with trees that wavered from the same invisible wind as the vines. Nila, tiny and motionless in a starry, cloudless sky, painted the world in her sickly yellow light.


    ¡°Grevail¡­¡±


    He recognized the voice behind him, nearly forgotten. He turned, and as he did, the world fell away. Trees tumbled, tossing dirt into the air from their roots and grass wilted flat before his eyes. The cobblestones dropped from under his feet. Buildings crumbled to foundations, then into dust, vanishing into black. Nobody was there. Only himself in an eternal sea of night.


    ¡°Grevail¡­¡±


    He spun again. His mother stood exactly as she was when he last saw her. Curly black hair rested on her shoulders and black eyes held him lovingly, as if they never stopped. She was the same handsome, petite woman Grevail recalled from his childhood,.


    ¡°Why¡­¡± Grevail began.


    His mother stopped him with a hand. ¡°Grevail, you must find the Emberstone and come to me¡­¡± she paused, as if unsure what to say.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have it. Where are you? What happened to you?¡± Grevail went to move toward her but did not budge. He looked down at his feet to find them floating in black. ¡°Where are we?¡±


    ¡°I know you miss me¡­my little pumpkin.¡± Painful recollections of those words were pulled from the blackest reaches of his memory and he was forced to look at them¡ªto remember what he¡¯d spent most of his life forgetting. His mother¡¯s face softened at the wetness stinging his eyes.¡°I am close. Find the Emberstone and come to me.¡±


    ¡°I thought you died? Is this a dream? Tell me where you are!¡±


    She smiled, and like a ray of sunshine it basked him in beautiful, natural warmth. ¡°I¡¯m very close dear. Not far at alllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll¡­¡± Her melodic voice caught and dragged as if she¡¯d been frozen in time. Her face stretched and flattened like a hide at a tanner¡¯s shop, then snapped back into place. She became faded, like a painting that sat too long in the sun, and ripples spread across her body as if she were a reflection in a pond.


    His mother expanded outward, her body stretching in a horrifying manner. Grevail tried to back away, yet despite flailing limbs, did not move. Her distended stomach ballooned toward him and he closed his eyes with a shout.


    Grevail sat up in bed and swung his legs to the floor, gripping his head. The slithering itch was still there, burrowing out of his skull toward the relic. He experienced many dreams since he came into contact with the Emberstone, and they only seemed to become more numerous and detailed as the days wore on. A variety of people had appeared in them too, but never before his mother. He hadn¡¯t dreamt of her in¡­he didn¡¯t know how long. He shook his head and pushed it all to the back of his mind. All I have to do is steal that stone. Revenge for Raela, Dell and Tessyn.


    He stood, throwing on his old clothes that were full of holes, then headed downstairs. Usha, in the kitchen as usual, handed him a plate with a buttered roll, two boiled eggs and a few slices of ham. Grevail inhaled the meal, as he did every morning, thankful for anything to eat. Even so, the wide woman held no love for anyone in her kitchen beside Alisia and shooed him away before he swallowed the last bite.


    Afterward, he went searching for the others. Voices drifting through the cloth hung in the doorway of Alisia¡¯s sitting room caught his ear, and when he pushed it aside, found her atop a red settee in conversation with three people he did not recognize.


    ¡°Ozra,¡± Alisia said to a thin girl sitting across from her who sported a bushy clump of curly brown hair atop her head. ¡°I need you down there to hear what he talks about. Do not under any circumstances draw his attention. We can¡¯t risk that. Remember what Aritane and Auphen learned about Patalla. If Riphale mentions anything about the Urucan, no matter what it is, come back to me immediately. Do you understand?¡±


    The girl issued a confident nod.


    ¡°Good,¡± Alisia said. ¡°Off with you then. Be careful.¡± The girl bounced to her feet and rushed past Grevail out of the room while Alisia turned to a round man who had been sitting beside her. ¡°For you, we need to know who Eryth supports. The next time she comes into your shop, I want you to find out.¡±


    ¡°What if she becomes angry?¡± the fat man asked, seemingly disturbed by the idea.


    Alisia adopted a firm tone. ¡°You will slip it into a conversation naturally¡­unassumingly¡­don¡¯t ask her outright. Make light of Carbathe¡¯s claims¡­or mention that another customer supports Daryn. Everyone has an opinion, it¡¯s just a matter of getting them to voice it. We think Eryth has some intimate knowledge of goings on at the Council House but I have to know which we way she leans before we proceed further.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know when she might come again, Alisia¡­but I will do what I can,¡± the large man said, rising from the chair and bending in a small bow.


    ¡°Of course, of course. Whatever you can do,¡± she said as the man left, brushing past Grevail. Alisia then spoke to the last woman, an older, pretty brunette in a dress fine enough it wouldn¡¯t seem out of place among the mansions in the north of town. ¡°For you, Lady Renthil, I have a special request. So far we¡¯ve failed to discover if Seirod has any¡­preferred type of woman¡­or desires women at all for that matter. We¡¯ve seen none around him. I want you to¡ª¡±


    Lady Renthil gasped, an indignant look on her face. ¡°Alisia, you must not be suggesting that I throw myself at him! I believe in our cause just as much as anyone could, but I would never¡ª¡±


    ¡°Of course I¡¯m not asking you to do that, Ellyn,¡± Alisia interrupted, bewildered. ¡°I only want you to find out what gets his rooster crowing. What does he like?¡±


    The anger drained from Lady Renthil¡¯s face and she seemed relieved, but it lasted only a moment before she spoke in a worried tones. ¡°I think he has grown wary of me, Alisia. What if he suspects me? He is hardly friendly as it is.¡±


    Alisia reached across the table between them to place a hand atop Lady Renthil¡¯s. ¡°I understand if you do not feel comfortable, I do, but we need to know as much about him as we can. I cannot force you to do anything and I never would, but please, if you see an opportunity¡­consider it.¡±


    ¡°I will try my best, Alisia. I know it is important to us.¡± Lady Renthil said and stood, inclining her head to Alisia before leaving past Grevail. Only as Alisia¡¯s eyes followed Lady Renthil toward the exit did she seem to notice he was there. ¡°You don¡¯t expect to be out on your own just yet do you?¡± she asked with a teasing smile. ¡°Your first assignments have gone well but not so well as that.¡±


    ¡°How long will I have to wait to get at Seirod?¡± he asked, aware of the scratching on the inside of his head pulling him toward the man¡¯s home.


    ¡°If things keep going well¡­not long.¡±


    Grevail grimaced. ¡°Can¡¯t you tell me anything about him?¡±


    Alisia stood, sweeping lustrous black hair over her shoulders and came to stand with him. ¡°I know it must be frustrating for you, but I can¡¯t let all of our hard work go to waste. If you want to know everything, I must trust you as much as I do Auphen or Aritane.¡±


    For a reason Grevail couldn¡¯t put his finger on, her murky blue eyes always seemed to instill a calm in him. Looking into them now, he felt almost as he did with the Emberstone, as if he were being sucked into a whirlpool. ¡°I¡¯m ready to prove myself.¡± A scoff echoed in his head. I¡¯ve never been one to fall for every pretty girl I see like Dell.


    ¡°Great,¡± Alisia said, taking a cloak from the back of the settee and throwing it over her shoulders. ¡°You will come with me. I have some time before my agents are due back and there is something I¡¯d like to try.¡±


    Grevail raised an eyebrow. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Well, now that we¡¯ve seen Patalla himself with Carbathe, I think Daryn must be informed in any way we can.¡±


    ¡°You want to go to the Council House and talk to him?¡±


    Alisia shook her head. ¡°Not with him. We may only have an audience with the Council of Nobles on Grievance days, and the next is days away still. He would not receive us if we were to arrive unannounced, but I do have other contacts there who might be able pass this information to him.¡± She walked from the room, waving him after her.


    ¡°Grievance days?¡±


    ¡°Grievance days. Those are the days in which anyone in Tamirra can go to the Council House and air their grievances to the Council of Nobles at the Pillar of Justice.¡± Leaving the house, they walked across the courtyard and into the street.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°Have you ever tried to tell Daryn what you¡¯ve found before?¡± he asked as Alisia set a brisk pace down the road. ¡°Does he have any idea what is going on? I heard what Carbathe said that night.¡±


    Alisia sighed. ¡°We¡¯ve tried, I assure you, but it¡¯s not like we can just walk into the Council House and demand to speak to him. We¡¯ve gone on previous Grievance Days, but Carbathe and the other nobles were there on those days too, and we cannot reveal what we know to them or they will be sure to make trouble for us. Even if we did get Daryn alone, there is no guarantee he will believe us. It is our word against Carbathe¡¯s and unless Daryn was there to see it himself, how would he know we are telling the truth?¡± She slapped a fist into her palm with a growl. ¡°Sometimes, I think they are trying to keep us away from him. There is no way for us to know what the Khos thinks of Carbathe, but Daryn can¡¯t know what we do, otherwise he¡¯d have to do something.¡±


    ¡°Who are we meeting?¡±


    ¡°For the past while I¡¯ve been volunteering at the kitchens in the Council House for an old friend who works inside. Of course, I am not doing this for charity. I do it to gain access, learning what I can and perhaps eventually, get closer to Daryn. The servants there sometimes know just as much about the goings on as the nobles, if not more so. Once we do get inside, we will need to find Bavin, the Khos¡¯ steward. He may be interested in helping us get this information where it needs to go. You know how to scrub a pot, don¡¯t you?¡± she asked, grinning at him.


    He did not have time to reply, for as they rounded a corner, a knot of men in the road ahead drew his eye. They were marching along together, pumping arms in the air and repeating a chant that echoed up the street. ¡°Lesabre is unfit! Lesabre is unfit! He¡¯s not our Khos, he¡¯s not our man, he must be made to quit!¡± Every man wore the purple rose on the chest of white tunics and many carried cudgels in their belts.


    The group slowed beside a shop where a crowd was gathered, perusing baskets of garish vegetables set out on tables. A man in the lead raised his cudgel. ¡°Daryn Lesabre is unfit for duty! He must be removed! Carbathe for Khos!¡±


    ¡°Daryn must be removed!¡± A man in front of the shop agreed, raising his fist in kind.


    ¡°Carbathe for Khos!¡±


    After a few cheers of encouragement from the shop patrons, the men resumed their march past Grevail and Alisia. Grevail ducked his head, diverting his gaze to the ground, but Alisia stared lightning at the men.


    ¡°Carbathe will never be Khos! He¡¯s a traitor!¡± spat an old woman outside the shop, jabbing her finger into the face of a man with his fist raised.


    The man stepped close and put the fist under her nose. ¡°Watch your mouth, old hag!¡±


    The shopkeep, swathed in an apron, lept through the shop door and ran to put himself between them. ¡°Ashes, Oiren, she¡¯s an old woman!¡±


    ¡°Old or not,¡± Oiren said, glaring at her, ¡°she should know her place.¡±


    The crowd descended into shoving matches and the shouting of accusations. Soon, the villagers had organized themselves into two roiling gangs. A brawl looked imminent, but after a short standoff and much hand-waving of the shopkeep, the two groups dispersed with only threats. The shopkeep wiped a hand across his brow and with an incredulous shake of his head, returned inside.


    ¡°See what his henchmen do?¡± Alisia said, face made from stone. ¡°That man will stop at nothing to be Khos. Even if it means destroying our city.¡± With a scowl, she resumed walking. ¡°Come on.¡±


    A short distance down the road they entered a large square ringed by buildings that Grevail had seen a few times before from a distance. Townsfolk wandered across the oval-shaped space like fish in a pond, while in the center, a statue several times taller than a man and made of white stone towered over them. It was of a woman dressed in common clothes with a sword raised over her head. The figure had a fierce snarl on her face and an open mouth, as if belting a soundless shout across the river toward Uruca.


    ¡°Who is that?¡± Grevail asked as they passed the base of the statue. It was quite an impressive structure¡ªtaller than most every building around the square.


    The anger washed from Alisia¡¯s face as she glanced up at it. ¡°Delphine,¡± she murmured, a proud smile warming her lips. ¡°The hero of Tamirra during the civil war. She and many others joined the hill tribes in fighting for Eudan independence. The Urucan attacked Tamirra and won a difficult victory, then laid waste to the city. Delphine helped many people escape, and afterward, the survivors led a resistance against the Urucan. They never gave up, even when it seemed overwhelmingly dire. Delphine fought until the war was won. Then, when the peace treaty had been signed and the Urucan were forced to cede the Phantha, she helped rebuild Tamirra. I¡¯ve been to the capital once, and the streets you have there curve every which way, but here, you might have noticed they¡¯re all straight as a good plank. That¡¯s because this city is no like other. It was built all at once.¡±


    ¡°I suppose she is why you call yourselves Delphine¡¯s companions?¡±


    Alisia looked at him, befuddled, then a chuckle bubbled out of her. ¡°You pieced it together, did you?¡± Snickering, she walked from the statue, pulling Grevail along with her.


    As they left the square, a flag with the purple rose of Carbathe hanging from a tavern eave caught Grevail¡¯s eye. Next door, the blue and white stripes of an Eudan flag peeked from the window of an inn. Nearly every building displayed their allegiance where those passing could see it, and Tamirrans in the street proudly donned patches or sported embroidered handkerchiefs hanging from a pocket that let all know who they sided with too. Alisia¡¯s claims of an imminent coup seemed obvious now, so obvious only a dolt could miss them.


    Yet he had been that dolt when he first came to Tamirra. He had walked past all of these things and hardly noticed. Not only that, I somehow have become embroiled in it. It was still hard to believe a coup could really be possible, even after what he heard that night at Carbathe¡¯s estate. Surely, Carbathe could not challenge the Khos and his Council of Nobles, and certainly not the Epikhos. Amphid would settle the matter before anything could happen.


    Alisia led him along the straight streets of Tamirra toward the eastern edge of town. When they stepped onto the highway south of the Council House, the road was brimming with townsfolk and travelers, as it usually seemed to be. Bustling shops lined the road and lining even those were more rows of hawker stands. The calls of merchants and murmur of a crowd reminded Grevail of Merchant Row, though the memory inspired little more than a feeling of painful regret now.


    The Council House soon rose ahead¡ªthe odd white dome cresting above the other buildings like Arulan on the horizon. Alisia walked toward the double doors of the entrance, which were guarded by two men in white watch tunics. Grevail swallowed, remembering Joszi¡¯s threat of a thousand ess to bring him in. If his only chance of getting closer to Seirod was by helping Alisia, then it would be a risk he¡¯d have to take.


    Alisia planted herself in front of the watchmen and cracked a smile. ¡°Hello,¡± the diminutive woman said. ¡°I¡¯m here to see Kallidra.¡±


    One of the watchmen, a dark eyed, broad-shouldered man with a scruffy beard looked down his nose at her. ¡°About what?¡±


    ¡°I come to help her in the kitchens. I was here a few days ago¡ª¡±


    The man turned his dark eyes from Alisia to Grevail. ¡°Him too?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    The watchman rubbed at his jaw, frowning. ¡°Sorry, miss, but no visitors are allowed today.¡±


    ¡°What? Why?¡±


    The man shrugged and spread his hands. ¡°I don¡¯t question the orders, I just carry them out. They said no visitors to the kitchens¡­so no visitors to the kitchens.¡±


    Alisia stared at him. ¡°I was just here a few days ago and there was no such rule! Who gave the order?¡±


    The man laughed, then spit on the ground at their feet. He took a handkerchief from his pocket, stitched with a purple rose to wipe his mouth. ¡°Get out of here or you¡¯ll spend the night with the jailer.¡±


    Alisia glared at the handkerchief, then at the watchman. ¡°You don¡¯t scare me¡­traitor,¡± she whispered like death itself. ¡°I¡¯ll be back.¡± She held the man¡¯s eyes for a moment, as if daring him to act, then strode away.


    The guard watched her go before settling bemused eyes on Grevail. ¡°How about you, Delphine? Do you want some company tonight? No doubt the jailer would prefer her, but the old man does get lonely down there, he might make due with you.¡± The man issued a gruesome chuckle.


    Grevail clamped his mouth shut around a growl and turned away, hurrying after Alisia. He caught up to her as she stalked away from the Council House, looking angry as a swarm of bees. ¡°What now? Is there another way inside?¡±


    ¡°Not that I know of. You saw his handkerchief, didn¡¯t you? I told you they are trying to keep us away from Daryn¡­but they can¡¯t do it forever. We will get through to him eventually¡­even if some of the watch are in on it.¡± She cursed, balling her fists. ¡°Traitors! Come on, I need a drink and some time to think. We¡¯ll go to the Lucky Harvest.¡±


    ¡°What about your agents?¡±


    The young woman shrugged and her murky blue eyes narrowed in anger as if she were thinking about running right back to the Council House. ¡°They know what to do if I¡¯m not there. Aritane and Auphen should come by eventually. We need to think up a plan to reach Daryn.¡±


    The Lucky Harvest wasn¡¯t so busy when they arrived and not long after seating themselves, a young man came to thump tankards on the table in front of them. Grevail took a grateful drink of the ale. Anything that helped to lessen the now seemingly ever-present throbbing scratch in his head was welcome.


    Alisia looked glum as she drank, glancing at the sparse patrons of the tavern as if another of Carbathe¡¯s henchmen were among them.


    ¡°What are your next plans?¡± Grevail asked.


    She twisted her lips in a grimace. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Sometimes, I wonder what good we¡¯re doing if nobody wants to listen. My Delphines risk their lives all the time¡­yet most people don¡¯t seem to care. It feels like we are fighting an insurmountable battle, and every day the enemy grows stronger while we dwindle in number.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not thinking of giving up, are you?¡± Grevail asked. ¡°I mean¡­I didn¡¯t believe you before, but after hearing Carbathe for myself, it is hard not to.¡±


    Alisia sighed. ¡°That is the problem isn¡¯t it? Not everyone can be there at those times to hear it for themselves. Somehow, most people can¡¯t see what is right in front of them. If only we could find some physical proof of their schemes!¡±


    Grevail frowned at the resigned defeat in her voice. It was such a foreign emotion for her to be overcome with. Every moment he¡¯d spent with Alisia so far, it seemed she thought of little else than stopping Carbathe. ¡°There has to be something else we can do¡­some other way we can reach Daryn or¡­something.¡±


    She nodded in agreement, but the sadness did not leave her eyes. ¡°Maybe Aritane or Auphen will have some ideas. We need to get Daryn alone somehow, but with the watch itself infested by Carbathe¡¯s cronies, I don¡¯t see any easy way to do that.¡±


    Grevail stared into his mug, realizing that he wanted to help her. He thought of slapping himself. We are supposed to be finding the relic, Grevail, and avenging your friends that you got killed, not getting involved with¡­whatever this is. Still, for some reason he couldn¡¯t say, he felt compelled to help her, whatever his help was worth. After all, he would have been sleeping rough and stealing to eat by now if not for her. ¡°How did you come to lead the Delphines?¡±


    She shrugged as if it didn¡¯t really matter, then stared at him for a moment as if that was all the response she would offer. ¡°Years ago, when Carbathe first started causing trouble, most people didn¡¯t take him seriously. They still don¡¯t, as it turns out, but back I couldn¡¯t find anyone who thought he was suspicious until I met Aritane. We started by handing out flyers in Delphine¡¯s Square¡­that¡¯s how we found Auphen. He was bothered by Carbathe too, in fact, Auphen¡¯s family used to own an estate out of town, much like the one you visited that night¡­but then Carbathe forced them out and took it for himself. Auphen knew even more about Carbathe than we did. We thought Carbathe wanted to be Khos so he could push even more people off their land that he would then keep for himself, but as we investigated, we realized it was even worse than that.¡±


    ¡°How did Carbathe force Auphen¡¯s family off their land?¡±


    Alisia issued a disgusted scoff. ¡°In every way he could. He argued they owed more tax or that they didn¡¯t really own it at all due to some error in the ledgers ages ago and many other scandals he invented. Auphen thinks Carbathe sent saboteurs around to damage the place too¡­even set the house on fire once. Wasn¡¯t long before his folks couldn¡¯t afford the tax, and were too terrified to stay even if they could. He lives with them now not far from here and spends all of his time not spent with us taking care of them.¡±


    Grevail drank the last of the ale and stared into the bottom of the mug. ¡°I can see why he wants revenge.¡±


    ¡°The both of you are not so different, you see. I think that¡¯s why he likes so much.¡± He looked up to find her watching him over the rim of her own mug. ¡°I think I know what I¡¯ll have you do next, Green.¡±


    ¡°Green?¡±


    ¡°That stone in your ear. Aritane says everyone has those in Lowtown. What are they?¡±


    Grevail sighed. ¡°They are called merits. It means you belong in Lowtown.¡±


    ¡°Will you ever go back to Lowtown?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t think I belonged there.¡±


    They drank in the tavern until each of them had consumed several tankards, or at least he thought, but it was hard to remember just how many. Alisia, he discovered, was quite fond of cursing and crude jokes when her blood was thin. She told him stories about her Delphines and their exploits, while he told a few of his own about Lowtown, though he didn¡¯t think they matched hers. Aritane and Auphen never arrived, nor did he and Alisia formulate a plan to reach Daryn, but when eventually they rose to leave, Grevail was surprised to find he had trouble keeping his balance. Outside, dusk was settling over the town and the streets were clearing of the day¡¯s business.


    ¡°You know, when Auphen brought you in, I wasn¡¯t so sure as he seemed to be,¡± Alisia said, offering him a drunken smile as they walked. ¡°But¡­you¡­you¡¯ve done pretty well.¡±


    Grevail grinned back. ¡°Good enough that you¡¯ll tell me about Seirod?¡±


    She raised a finger in warning. ¡°Not yet¡­not yet, but close.¡±


    ¡°So what was the thing you said¡­you wanted me to do?¡±


    ¡°I have someone else for you to watch, Green. His name is Aramis.¡±

 Sibling

    Lusin hung high in the sky above Tamirra and the street Thoma walked, casting cool purple light on the city below. Most folk had laid down for the night and the homes he passed were dark and silent, though his work was only beginning.


    Vaik ordered him to contact any fellow Siblings in the area in the hope one of them might have word on this elusive relic that slipped through their fingers. Thoma did not wish to see again the rage that consumed Vaik after the night at the tomb.


    He glanced over his shoulder, spotting the tall and lithe shadow slipping from building to building behind him. Noz could sneak like a mouse when he wanted to, despite his size. He was an unnerving man, even more so because he never said more than a few words to anyone other than Vaik or Lyra. Still, there was nobody better to be watching his back, not that Thoma felt it was needed.


    In fact, if the Embers were watching, Noz would stay in the shadows. Some of the those at this meeting were his friends, or had been once upon a time. They were all Siblings, but that mattered little to Vaik, and therefore Noz. They would do anything to retrieve the Emberstone, and Thoma would too, but he had reservations¡ªthings he would like to avoid, and they did not.


    He rounded a corner on the wide and moonlit road of tight cobbles. The southwest of the city was crowded with workshops and businesses. A quiet place at night, except for the occasional vagabond, but there were not many of those in Tamirra.


    The warehouse he was told to look for sat hunched in the darkness ahead. A lantern hung beside the big swinging doors, an orange ribbon twirling from the bottom. That was one of the many signals Siblings used to alert family members. The signals had to be changed sometimes, whenever the Thava caught a Dawnbreaker, as the Thava called Siblings.


    Thoma retrieved the black mask of a raven from where it was tucked under his arm and slipped it over his face. Flipping up the hood of his cloak, he angled toward the warehouse doors. He doubted there would be much to discover here, and may the Embers protect those inside if he did, especially with the anger that Vaik displayed at this relic which seemed to slip out of their grasp at every opportunity. Thoma found Vaik¡¯s story of what happened at the tomb hard to believe. All of this because Noz couldn¡¯t handle some children from the slums?


    Thoma might not have believed it if he hadn¡¯t been there that morning at the Eudan bridge, and saw with his own eyes how lucky those young rogues could be. When the watchmen stopped the Lowtown mudrats, Vaik ordered Thoma and the others to attack. If the watch captured the Emberstone, retrieving it would have been difficult if not impossible. Piri almost skewered one of the rogues with a knife, Lyra an arrow, and Ailish came close to running them down, but they were forced to flee when the Khossoroi came.


    At first, Vaik assumed they returned to Lowtown, but after weighting a few hands with coin it was determined they went south. Thoma knew just how tight lipped those Lowtowners could be after venturing in there himself at Vaik¡¯s behest and narrowly escaping with the clothes on his back for the effort. They searched high and low south of Eudan afterward, under every stone and in every copse of trees, but still came up empty. Noz gleaned enough information from the towns and villages they passed to discern the mudrats continued south, and in the company of two Sifters no less.


    Thoma wasn¡¯t sure who the Sifters were, or if they even realized they had the stone, but then they found the village where the two men were ambushed. The whole town had been talking about it, along with rumors that an Arbiter was somehow involved. Thoma sneered. The last thing they needed was for the Thava to get their hands on this Emberstone, though he would relish the opportunity to send a few Thavan spirits to their Shrove if it came to that.


    They followed the trail of the Thava and these Sifters to Tamirra, the southern-most city in all of Eudan. There wasn¡¯t much chance the Sifters would take them into Uruca, unless they had a death-wish, since it was known at least one of them was Eudan. Either way, Vaik claimed he knew they were here. A few bribes at the gatehouse was enough to get eyes on who came and went, though those guards looked to be half asleep whenever Thoma saw them.


    Clearing his mind from thoughts of how he came to be here, Thoma stopped at the warehouse doors and knocked.


    ¡°Who is it?¡± came a low whisper from inside.


    ¡°Brand. I wish to find the way,¡± he said.


    ¡°The way?¡± a man asked.


    ¡°Across oceans and through storms. I wish to find the way to Eldimirian.¡±


    A grating noise sounded on the other side, as if a bar were being lifted. One of the large doors swung outward a fraction and a man wearing a bull mask edged into the moonlight.


    ¡°Welcome, I¡¯m Stable,¡± the man said. Waving Thoma in, he retreated into the dark interior.


    Thoma followed, pulling the door closed behind him. Inside, a few lamps lit the building with a warm, flickering glow. The shadowy shapes of crates draped in tarps were stacked high against the walls, but left enough space for several people to be standing in pools of lantern light. A man in a cougar mask grunted a greeting with a nod and a woman in a bear mask beside him bowed her head.


    ¡°Welcome,¡± they said one after the other.


    Thoma had been to many pleadings, especially after meeting Vaik, but he felt more at home here than in any palace storeroom or manor garden. The nobility often had no idea just how much risk commoners took to hold a pleading, though there could be a few well-off Siblings in this room too.


    Stable¡¯s voice brought Thoma from his thoughts. ¡°Brand, do you have anything for the pleading?¡±


    Thoma nodded. ¡°Of course.¡± It wouldn¡¯t do to attend a pleading without an offering to the Emberfolk. That would be in bad taste, and surely looked down upon by all that were here. However, what one brought mattered too. He pulled the heavy chair figurine from his pocket. It glittered with diamonds, silver and gold in the light as he handed it over.


    Stable¡¯s eyes widened behind his mask. ¡°Its beautiful,¡± he said, rotating the throne in his hands. ¡°Quite the item to bring to a pleading, Brand. The Embers will be pleased.¡±


    ¡°Consider it a gesture of my goodwill,¡± Thoma said, relishing the awe in the man¡¯s voice. He often wondered what an Emberfolk king or queen may have been like when he looked at the throne, surely that must be what it represented. Most Siblings wouldn¡¯t bring something so rare or valuable to a pleading, but he had nothing to fear, especially with Noz lurking outside. If the other Siblings were impressed by it, they might trust him more easily.


    ¡°Exquisite,¡± rumbled a broad shouldered man in a green cloak and wolf mask. Thoma knew from the voice, if not the muscular build, it was Aramis. A blacksmith and leader of a thief network here in Tamirra. The mask did as much to disguise his distinctive form as it would have on a pig. It was far from the first time they¡¯d met, though Thoma was unsure if the smith recognized him in return. Beside Aramis, the short stocky woman in the bear mask nodded in appreciation of the throne.


    ¡°It will do nicely,¡± Stable said and placed it near a lantern on the ground. After a long look at the doors, he motioned at the others. ¡°It is time, anyone not in this room must not be coming.¡±


    One by one they came forward to place their own objects around the lantern in a circle. Thoma watched each with a careful eye. The woman in the bear mask placed an owl statue, made of bronze and a pace tall. A beautiful thing, and in wonderful condition. Thoma had seen those before, and though they were often broken or worn smooth by time, this one must have been as detailed as the day it was made. Another man dropped a bronze coin beside the owl figurine, the outer edge of which was stamped with odd angular symbols Thoma recognized. His breath caught, but he dampened his expectations. Those coins could be more common than he realized.


    Thoma recalled some of the items such as the throne they found in the bags those Lowtown rogues left behind. If only there had been time to search the place. The treasures that may have been uncovered in a tomb of that size could have been the discovery of a lifetime. Thoma had visited many such burials in his travels with Vaik, but none rivaled the size or grandeur of the one in the swamp.


    He analyzed the other items the Siblings placed around the lantern, but nothing even closely resembled the Emberstone, nor was it all that interesting otherwise. Vaik must know, as he did, that even if a Sibling had somehow come across the Emberstone, there was little chance they would bring it to a pleading. Yet still, Vaik demanded he attend to sift for what information he could.


    When the items were gathered, Stable produced a small brazier he placed beside the lantern. He carefully removed a vial from his shirt pocket and rotated, displaying it to those gathered. ¡°Blood of an Esh. The blood of beasts which drove our ancestors from this land¡­may it burn.¡± He pulled the cork stopper from the vial, handling it as if spilling one drop could mean death, and it very well could. There were stories of people who became Esh after coming into contact with the blood days after it had been spilled, though most of the Esh blood Siblings used in rituals was harmless and came from some animal or another. Esh were certainly not as common as they once were, after all, and even many Siblings considered them little more than tales.


    Stable tipped the vial of blood into the brazier. Next, he removed another vial, a vial of oil, Thoma knew. Stable emptied that vial into the brazier as well, then lit the mixture with the aid of the lantern. A flame rose, sputtering and flaring, but finally coalesced into a strong blaze that produced a streamer of dark smoke.


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Stable knelt and those gathered joined him. Thoma bent his knee and directed his gaze to the ground.


    ¡°Emberfolk,¡± Stable began. ¡°Can you hear us?¡±


    ¡°We plead for your recognition,¡± the people gathered around the lantern repeated in unison.


    ¡°Emberfolk,¡± Stable said. ¡°Where have you gone?¡±


    ¡°Show us the way to Eldimirian.¡±


    ¡°Emberfolk,¡± Stable¡¯s voice trembled. ¡°We are your children, the siblings of Ember.¡±


    ¡°Speak to us.¡±


    They waited for a reply, as they always did, but none came. A rooster crowing would have meant good fortune, while a dog barking would have been an ill omen. A flying insect would have meant to show caution, while a bird or bat would mean to be suspicious of those around you. The omens of a pleading were always up to interpretation, of course. Silence meant that the Emberfolk saw no need to reply, and in his circumstance, Thoma considered this an unfavorable outcome. He rose, as did the others.


    ¡°As is custom,¡± Stable said, ¡°we will reconvene at dawn for those of you who wish to stay.¡±


    The siblings mingled with each other, soft conversation filling the dark interior of the warehouse.


    A woman in a pig mask approached Thoma. Her thin, swan-like neck dipped into a modest green dress that exposed a considerable amount of bosom. ¡°Brand?¡± She stopped before him and offered a hand sprouting from the lace at the cuff of her dress. ¡°Rivulet.¡± Thoma bent and kissed her hand. Obviously a high born lady to expect such treatment, and perhaps a newborn Sibling, not accustomed to covering all aspects of her identity while attending a pleading.


    Rivulet waited until Thoma straightened to begin speaking. ¡°That throne you brought is exquisite! Where did you acquire it? If you don¡¯t mind me asking¡­¡±


    Though her smoky voice tickled at his memory, he could not place a face to her. Perhaps not a newborn then. ¡°I purchased it from a friend not long ago.¡±


    The woman laughed. ¡°Do they have any more? I¡¯d love to have one¡­cost is not an issue.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps. There was a tomb found in the swamp east of the capital, apparently he acquired it from there.¡±


    The woman¡¯s dark brown eyes like fresh earth widened in the sockets of her mask. ¡°So the rumors are true. What I wouldn¡¯t give to see that!¡±


    Thoma murmured his agreement, and not for the sake of conversation. Even worse, I was standing outside the door and still didn¡¯t get to see what was inside. Even Vaik appeared torn at leaving the tomb behind, but with so many Thava camped nearby, it would have surely meant disaster to stay. ¡°Have you heard anything about artifacts from that tomb? I¡¯d like to track down a few more if I can.¡±


    The woman¡¯s mask swayed. ¡°I¡¯m afraid not, if I had, I would have procured one or two for myself. Due to my¡­circumstances, I¡¯m not able to attend Pleadings as often as I¡¯d like.¡± The woman¡¯s head tipped to the side, studying him acutely. ¡°However, I do know a woman, someone in town I consider an expert on such things. She is quite secretive of course, even more so than I, but¡­if I determine you are to be trusted, I may put you in contact with her.¡±


    Though Thoma doubted he would have the time to arrange a meeting with this mystery woman, he indicated he was interested, and after a bit more fruitless conversation, the woman in the pig mask left to engage a man in a frog mask. While Thoma scanned the room for another target, the stout woman in the bear mask crossed the room toward him.


    She extended her hand and Thoma took it. With a start, he spotted the remnants of a faded tattoo on her palm. A curled snake¡­one of the many images Sefka used. He thought it unlikely there were two women with such a tattoo in the same place. The short woman seemed unaware of his shock.


    ¡°Where did you get that throne?¡± she asked. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anything like it!¡±


    Her voice too was familiar, so much so, Thoma was certain whose face was behind the mask. ¡°A friend. A quiet fellow who lives in the woods and rarely comes to town. He is not only a Dawnbreaker, but Sefkha as well. I do not believe in such things, do you? Do you know anyone who worships Marath,¡± he dropped his voice to a whisper and leaned close, ¡°Lynn?¡±


    The woman¡¯s eyes went wide, then narrowed as if he had cursed her name. ¡°Thoma?¡± she asked, a little too loudly for his taste.


    ¡°I never thought I¡¯d see you again, much less here,¡± he said.


    Lynn scoffed. ¡°Don¡¯t you know who my uncle is?¡±


    Now that she mentioned it, Thoma did remember. He chose his words carefully. ¡°I¡¯m here with friends, some of them you might know.¡±


    ¡°Vaik?¡± Lynn asked, a hopeful glint in her dark eyes. ¡°We must meet as soon as possible. There are events here in the city he will want to know of. I assume there is only one reason he is here.¡±


    ¡°I can bring you to him, if you¡¯d like.¡± Vaik would no doubt be pleased to be reunited with Lynn, given her connections, which would be helpful in the search for this relic. Thoma did not relish the idea of another competitor for Vaik¡¯s attention, but if the man ever learned Thoma had met Lynn and not told him, there would be dire consequences. Noz might likely know her as well, and if she took that mask off with him waiting outside, there were no assurances the big, silent man might not tell Vaik himself.


    Aramis came to stand at Lynn¡¯s shoulder and inclined his head at Thoma. ¡°What are you two whispering about over here?¡±


    Lynn giggled and adjusted her mask to look up at the tall man. ¡°This is an old friend.¡±


    Aramis studied Thoma from beneath the wolf mask. ¡°An old friend?¡±


    ¡°Yes, from many years ago. In fact, he¡¯s brought me some good news.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Another old friend of mine is in town. I¡¯ve told you about him many times. I¡¯ll be seeing him soon¡­tonight, in fact.¡±


    Tonight? I never said anything about tonight. Thoma grimaced. Lynn would never change.


    ¡°I suppose you don¡¯t want me along on your meeting?¡± Aramis said with a grunt.


    ¡°Not now, dear¡­maybe next time,¡± Lynn said, then spoke to Thoma. ¡°When can we leave?¡±


    Aramis and Lynn? The two seemed an unlikely pair, like a bird and a snake becoming betrothed. He stared at Lynn for a moment, wondering if he should offer an excuse but decided against it. If there was anything to be gained from reuniting Vaik and Lynn, Thoma wanted to bring her to him. ¡°As soon as you are ready.¡± There wasn¡¯t much point hanging around this dusty old barn, after all. Only a fool looking for a knife in the back would bring an Emberstone to a pleading or talk about it around Siblings they were not familiar with.


    ¡°Very well,¡± Lynn said. She turned back to the smith. ¡°I won¡¯t be long.¡±


    Aramis only nodded, but his eyes narrowed at Thoma.


    A loud knock at the door brought them all to attention. The warehouse dropped into pure silence.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t expecting anyone else,¡± Stable whispered and turned toward the double doors with fearful eyes. He made a hushing motion with his hands and crept toward the entrance. Thoma gripped the dagger at his belt. If it were the Thava, or the watch¡­or both, he might have to fight his way out of here. Still, he felt safer knowing that Noz was outside. Noz wouldn¡¯t let the Thava take him, would he? No, he was too valuable to be captured.


    Stable came to the doors and leaned close, whispering at them. ¡°Do you know the way?¡±


    The reply came, murmured on the other side just as Thoma had done. The Thava might know the phrase too, though. That was also something they were forced to change from time to time. Stable cracked the door. The tension left the man¡¯s shoulders as if relieved and he moved aside. A cloaked man entered as if the Thava were on his heels.


    The man wore a rich blue cloak, embroidered at the edges in silver thread, and the cowl was pulled down to cover half of his face in the absence of a mask. Not the attire of a commoner. Perhaps a noble or merchant, Thoma figured.


    The cloaked man struggled to control his breathing, as if he¡¯d run to the warehouse. He leaned close to whisper at Stable, but Thoma was able to hear his words. ¡°The Thava tried to stop me on the way here. I escaped, but they are likely looking still.¡±


    A ripple of uneasy murmurs spread across the room as what the man said was relayed.


    Stable slapped a hand over his mask to cover a groan and turned to those gathered. ¡°Siblings¡­we must leave our Pleading unfinished and be gone from here immediately. Be careful as you leave.¡±


    Lynn watched Stable with no visible distress, then turned to Thoma. ¡°No time better than now.¡±


    Aramis put a hand on her shoulder. ¡°Are you sure that is wise? With Thava prowling out there?¡± The big smith nodded toward the cloaked man, though his gaze eventually settled disapprovingly on Thoma.


    ¡°I am not afraid of the Thava, dear. Do not worry about me. It is very important that I visit my friend.¡± She inclined her head to Thoma. ¡°Shall we?¡±


    Stable opened the door to let a Sibling in a frog mask slip out, then shut it in the face of a woman in a cat mask. ¡°Not all at once. It might draw attention. Wait just a moment.¡±


    Thoma returned her nod. If she was not afraid of the Thava, he would show no fear either, though her determination had peeked his curiosity. What was so urgent that she must tell Vaik? ¡°Very well.¡±


    They moved to grab their offerings from the circle around the brazier. Lynn engulfed the pace tall bronze owl beneath her cloak with some effort while Thoma tucked the throne into a pouch at his waist. He sent a questioning look at the owl beneath her cloak. ¡°Are you sure that¡ª¡±


    ¡°It will be fine,¡± Lynn shrugged. ¡°No different than sneaking bottles of wine out of my uncle¡¯s cellar when I was girl.¡±


    They filed into the line of worried Siblings waiting at the doors, which continued to shorten as Stable released them, waiting for some time in-between. When Thoma and Lynn were next to go, Stable realized they were to leave together and cracked the door. Thoma flipped up his hood.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let anything happen to her¡­¡± Aramis muttered at his back as the warehouse door creaked closed behind them. Thoma removed his mask and stalked off down the street toward the southern gate where the safe-house was. He looked over his shoulder to be sure Lynn was behind him.


    She was busy removing her mask with one hand, the other holding the owl figurine inside her cloak. Her face was exactly as Thoma remembered it. With dark hair, dark eyes and a big nose, she was a distinctive figure, though nobody would say she was pretty, or even handsome. ¡°It is a dangerous time to be in Tamirra, Thoma,¡± she said as the mask disappeared under her cloak with the owl.


    ¡°Why do you say that?¡±


    ¡°My uncle has plans¡­plans that could make yours and Vaik¡¯s go awry¡­whatever you are up to here. So tell me, what it is? What has brought you here? I can¡¯t imagine Vaik has given up his quest to find a land with no ash, but what does that have to do with Tamirra?¡±


    Thoma shook his head. ¡°If Vaik wants to tell you, he will.¡±


    Her black eyes sparkled with amusement. ¡°Oh, secretive¡­I almost forgot how secretive we were.¡±


    He ignored her comments. If Vaik wanted to tell Lynn anything, that was for him to do. The streets were dark here, but Lusin still shone in the night sky, bathing the city below in purple light. Thoma kept an eye out for Noz as they went along but saw no sign of the monstrous man. He turned a corner¡ªLynn following him in silence.


    ¡°You there!¡± a shout broke in the night.


    Thoma¡¯s breath caught in his throat when he saw stripes of gold flashing in the dark just ahead.


    A Thavan Keeper approached, kettle-helm shining in the light of the lamp he held. Another Keeper beside him stared at them with narrowed eyes.


    ¡°What are you doing out here at this hour?¡± the Keeper with the lamp asked.


    The throne in the bag at his waist felt as heavy as a boulder. Thoma thought of dashing away into the night. If he could outrun Lynn he might have a chance to escape. She didn¡¯t know anything of their plans, but she did know who he was, and that was enough to give him pause. ¡°We are heading home for the night, Keeper.¡±


    ¡°Now?¡± the man said, seemingly suspicious. He frowned, blue eyes looking them up and down.


    Lynn cleared her throat. ¡°I am Lynn Raseil, of House Raseil. This man is my escort. My uncle, Lord Carbathe, did not want me walking alone this late at night.¡±


    At the mention of Carbathe¡¯s name the man¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Oh! I heard you returned Lady Raseil, I apologize for not recognizing you. The escort is a prudent precaution. We¡¯ve had reports of Cythraul in the area. Be careful on your way.¡±


    Lynn gave a grateful nod of her head, shifting the owl figurine under her cloak. ¡°Thank you for the warning, Keeper. We will head straight home.¡±


    The Thavan nodded in return, and with his companion in tow, walked onwards into the night.


    Lynn sighed as the Thavan¡¯s footsteps faded. ¡°Too close for me¡­¡± she muttered. ¡°Now tell me what you are doing here.¡±


    Thoma breathed a sigh of relief himself, but only gave a shake of his head for Lynn¡¯s demand and continued to the hideout.

 Better Than Nothing

    The scratching in Grevail¡¯s skull was a constant reminder he was wasting time. His feet itched to move toward it, almost as if he were tethered to the relic by an invisible rope. He¡¯d nearly left his hiding spot several times to surveil Seirod¡¯s home rather than this man Alisia had tasked him with, yet ultimately forced himself to stay put. She was right, those guards would have an eye out for him.


    He stared at the squat shop across the street that emitted a dark plume of smoke twisting upward into a cloudless sky. He¡¯d kept watch for two days, beginning at sunrise and ending at sunset. His instructions were to follow the man if he left, but there¡¯d been no sign of who Alisia described; Aramis the smith.


    Aramis¡¯ building was in the southwest of the city where warehouses and shops hugged wide dirt streets traversed by wagons loaded high with goods. It was a rougher area than the rest of Tamirra, but not nearly so rough as Lowtown. Grevail felt more at ease here than among the large mansions near the north wall¡ªthey reminded him of Hightown, though the watch didn¡¯t sneer at his merit like they would in Eudan.


    An old man entered the smith¡¯s shop and the ringing of hammers poured through the open door before it closed behind him. Aramis¡¯ business seemed healthy, and many customers came and went during the time Grevail watched. Why would someone who appeared so well-to-do entangle themselves in such dangerous plots as overthrowing a Khos? If that is the man¡¯s true intentions. Alisia was adamant of Aramis¡¯ involvement somehow, but as usual, had little evidence for such claims she was willing to reveal.


    A coup. The idea seemed absurd only a dozen days ago, but the more time he spent here, the more possible it seemed. It wasn¡¯t out in the open, but broiling just under the surface; easy to miss if you weren¡¯t looking. Carbathe¡¯s purple rose or Eudan colors in support of Daryn were on display all over town. The politics of nobles made little sense to Grevail¡ªthat was the kind of thing people in Hightown with stocked larders bickered about.


    Though much of the city was on a knife¡¯s edge over Carbathe and Daryn, Grevail heard no talk of Urucan involvement from anyone beside the Delphines. Still, he couldn¡¯t discount what he saw with his own eyes that night at Carbathe¡¯s estate. I don¡¯t have time for this, he reminded himself. His goal was to avenge his friends by stealing that relic, and only with Alisia¡¯s help would it be possible.


    He sighed and scraped at the ground with shoes on the verge of falling off his feet. Alisia had been gracious enough to give him new clothes. He looked down at the dingy blue coat, white shirt, and sturdy brown trousers he found at the end of his bed. Yet even with the clothes and a full stomach, he couldn¡¯t help but think the Delphine¡¯s schemes were becoming a lengthy distraction from what brought him here.


    The door opened again and the old man left, but Grevail was drawn to another, muscular man who exited on his heels. Aramis stopped to survey the street, curly black hair swaying around his head and dragging across wide shoulders. The man¡¯s dark eyes passed over Grevail¡¯s hiding spot before he turned and walked north.


    Grevail left the warehouse wall, a wave of excitement sweeping over him as he crept through the stacked crates between him and the street. Aramis moved with purpose through the sparse crowd, crossing the path of an oncoming wagon which obscured him from view. Grevail hurried into the street after him, breathing a sigh of relief when he found the man still walking ahead.


    He followed the muscled smith into the north of the city, maintaining fair distance so as not to draw attention. More than once, Aramis turned a corner out of sight. Losing track of the man would squander the best opportunity Grevail had yet seen, but each time the smith disappeared into the crowd, Grevail was able to sift him back out again. Eventually, Aramis turned down a lonesome street and ducked into a small tavern tucked between butcher¡¯s shop and a leather worker¡¯s. A sign hanging from the eave read The Red Lady, and below that, a painting of a woman in a red dress and riding boots.


    For a short while Grevail waited outside to be sure Aramis wouldn¡¯t immediately reappear, and when satisfied he would not, went to peek through the open door. A handful of men sat at a far table in an otherwise vacant room, though none of them were Aramis. Along one wall sat a handful of secluded booths he couldn¡¯t see the inside of, but they all appeared empty from where Grevail stood. He hesitated at the entrance, wondering if he should wait for the smith to emerge¡ªperhaps a better plan than bumbling around inside for Aramis to spot him. Even if the man didn¡¯t know who Grevail was, coming face to face now could mean trouble in the future.


    Just as he made to leave and find somewhere to wait in the street, a serving girl burst from the doorway of a kitchen across from him. She entered one of the booths and the distant rumble of a deep voice that likely belonged to Aramis, like a giant bumblebee, reached Grevail¡¯s ears.


    Slipping through the doorway, he pretended to be seating himself, though the men at the table did not seem interested in anything but the mugs under their noses. Grevail shuffled between tables toward the center of the room and shot a look over his shoulder at the booth the serving girl entered, spotting enough of Aramis¡¯ hulking form to know it was him. The smith was accompanied by a dark haired young woman with a big nose that dominated her face.


    Grevail realized he recognized her. It was the woman he¡¯d seen at Carbathe¡¯s estate with the Urucan. The serving girl spoke with Aramis for a moment, and after a pleasant nod, left the booth. Grevail averted his eyes, hoping she did not notice him on her return to the kitchen.


    He uttered silent thanks to Badhalf when the girl¡¯s footsteps trailed away. The booth just beside the smith¡¯s was dark¡ªa nice spot to eavesdrop if he could make it there unnoticed. He turned, as naturally as he could make himself seem, and headed toward it. Framed by the doorway, Aramis and the woman were engaged in conversation and did not look his way as he crossed the room. At the top of each booth, a pace or two gap near the ceiling would hopefully allow him to listen in on whatever they were saying. Taking care not to make too much noise, he reached the booth beside Aramis¡¯ and eased inside, slowly lowering himself onto the polished bench nearest the door.


    ¡°Did you know he had that throne?¡± the woman asked the smith. Her voice was thin and nasally, but clear as a bell in Grevail¡¯s ears. ¡°That could buy him a fortune. Ashes, even I know people who would trade an estate for something like that, and Vaik does too.¡±


    ¡°No, I didn¡¯t.¡± The smith¡¯s voice in contrast was deep and rumbling.


    Grevail strained his ears to pick out every detail. If any of this convinced Alisia he could be trusted, it would be worth the risk.


    ¡°Well,¡± the woman said, ¡°he certainly surprised me. I can¡¯t believe I didn¡¯t recognize his voice. It has been years since I¡¯ve seen him last.¡±


    Aramis grunted.


    ¡°What?¡± she asked, words turning sharp with suspicion. ¡°Did you know he would be there?¡±


    ¡°No¡­¡± Aramis assured her. ¡°I wasn¡¯t even aware who it was until you told me.¡±


    The serving girl¡¯s footsteps announced her imminent presence. Grevail flattened himself into the seat as she passed the darkened booth looking straight ahead, two frothy mugs gripped in her fists.


    When the serving girl had left, the woman spoke. ¡°So¡­you finally fought your way through those hooligans to meet with me instead of sending letters? I knew you couldn¡¯t resist.¡±


    Aramis¡¯ laugh resolved into a sigh. ¡°They¡¯ve grown bored of me I think,¡± he grumbled. ¡°I have not seen them for a few days, but they¡¯ll be back. Me and my men know all their faces. The Delphines are not so smart as they think.¡±


    The woman scoffed. ¡°The Delphines are harmless fools. Nobody would believe them even if they did see something worth seeing, though that doesn¡¯t stop them from pestering my uncle either.¡±


    ¡°Daryn could be hunting for an excuse. Perhaps he has contracted these Delphines to find one for him?¡±


    ¡°Do you think he knows? Surely, he cannot. Even a commoner¡ªa coward such as himself, would act if he knew. Oh, don¡¯t look at me that way, Aramis. It is no judgment of you when I complain Daryn is commoner. He does not belong in the Council House.¡±


    A silence stretched.


    The woman spoke. ¡°Has Seirod kept you busy?¡±


    ¡°Yes. He has kept my purse full too, which I am grateful for.¡±


    ¡°And the party? My uncle is itching to try his hand at converting anyone influential in attendance who is still undecided.¡±


    ¡°Seirod has invitations being sent out as we speak.¡±


    ¡°Oh good!¡± The woman sounded giddy. ¡°I do love to mingle, especially when there is so much to talk about.¡±


    ¡°Bountiful conversation to be sure. The guest list would be enough to make even Amphid jealous.¡±


    ¡°Do you think Daryn will be there?¡±


    Aramis snorted with a laugh. ¡°Not likely. Seirod wouldn¡¯t invite him, and even if he did, Daryn would not attend. The Khos must be rife with suspicion.¡±


    Grevail bit his lip to keep from loosing a celebratory cheer. A party was exactly what he needed. Alisia should jump at the opportunity to learn of any secrets that might be overheard at such an event, and it was likely the best chance to get inside he would come by.


    The woman giggled. ¡°Vaik begged me for an invite from my uncle.¡±


    ¡°Vaik? He¡¯s the man with Thoma?¡± The smith sounded wary of the pair.


    ¡°Yes. Vaik and Seirod were friends once long ago. I suppose that is why Vaik is so eager to attend.¡±


    ¡°And your uncle? What does he wish to accomplish at this party beside attracting support? Some say it is to antagonize Daryn. Considering the tension in the city, it might not be the wisest thing. Daryn is still Khos.¡±


    The woman chuckled. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry about my uncle.¡± Her voice slipped into a sultry sulk. ¡°You know I can¡¯t tell you everything, dear, but Erphele is no doubt at the top of his list. He will be angry if Seirod hasn¡¯t sent her a suggestive invite.¡±


    Aramis grumbled, sounding annoyed. ¡°Erphele? Seirod will send her one, but how am I to know if she will accept? Your uncle¡­what is it with him and Erphele? Doesn¡¯t he have more important things on his mind? He knows that she is¡­¡± he left the rest unsaid.


    The woman breathed a sigh. ¡°I don¡¯t know. He is besotted and will not accept a refusal from her. I don¡¯t have any idea why. I¡¯d have better luck demanding that a tree explains why it grows leaves. I¡¯ve tried talking to him about her but he won¡¯t tell me. He could have nearly any woman in Eudan but he chases after the one who isn¡¯t interested.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps that is it then? He seeks the thrill of the chase, an ultimate conquest, to have the one woman he can¡¯t have?¡±


    ¡°Ultimate conquest?¡± The woman wheezed with dry laughter. ¡°Men. Obsessed with conquering this or that and most of you can¡¯t even change your bedding.¡±


    ¡°You did not complain about my obsession with conquest during our last night together,¡± Aramis replied.


    The woman giggled again and a brief silence followed.


    ¡°Does your husband still believe you are meeting friends when you come to see me?¡± Aramis asked.


    ¡°Of course. He isn¡¯t the most polished opal in the bunch. He isn¡¯t anything like you. He is solemn and withdrawn¡ªhasn¡¯t even had the courage to consummate our marriage after all this time. If only uncle had promised me to anyone else. ¡±


    The two talked for a while longer, but said nothing Grevail found useful, though he hung on every word. He began to worry if the meeting went too long, he might be discovered by one of the serving girls. Just as he was in the process of devising a plan to sneak out unseen, Aramis spoke.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°Well, we should be going,¡± the thunk of a mug on the table punctuated his words.


    ¡°So soon? We¡¯ve barely arrived and it¡¯s been days since we¡¯ve had a chance to be together¡­alone.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I have other business I must see to. Here, I need you to deliver this.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps you can make time for me tonight? Uncle won¡¯t be back to the city until tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°I think so,¡± Aramis said in an expectant voice before his tone became serious, ¡°but tonight. I have to get back to the shop. Promise me you¡¯ll give that to him as soon as you can.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I will. Very well, tonight.¡±


    They rose from the benches and vacated the booth with the thumping of feet. Grevail sat still as a stone until he was sure they¡¯d left the tavern, then slunk out of the booth and crept to the exit, peeking out of it after them. The woman bade farewell to Aramis, and the smith returned in the direction of his shop while she walked north. Grevail slipped through the tavern door and into the street after her.


    Thankfully, the woman¡¯s pitch black coat made her easy to track in the crowd. She meandered up the road, not appearing to hurry, and even stopped to buy a pastry from a street vendor. She ate while walking and eventually disappeared into a large home in the northwest of the city. Like the other grandiose mansions in this part of town, the gate was painted with a house sigil¡ªa beaver on the surface of a pond, tail slapping the water.


    Grevail waited some time to see if she reappeared, but when she did not, decided he should report what he¡¯d heard. Alisia would want a pair of ears at this party just as badly as he wanted to get inside. He would stick out like a root at low tide in that company, but there would be servants there too, and luck willing, he could slip in amongst them. All he needed was to get his foot in the door.


    As he returned to the south of the city he kept a careful watch for Thavan colors in the crowds, as he always did, but there were surprisingly few of them present outside the Refuge. It seemed Thyma was right. The people here were not concerned with Dawnbreakers or Stricken. The Urucan and the struggle between Daryn and Carbathe is what occupied Tamirran minds.


    A short while of walking brought him to Alisia¡¯s house, which looked from the outside like any other in the row, but if one were to watch they would notice many people coming and going at all hours. Alisia¡¯s agents kept a steady flow of information back to her, reporting what they learned during assignments. Grevail pushed the gate open in the outer wall and entered the bench-lined courtyard coated in leafy vines, then strode across the hex-shaped paving stones to give the door a knock.


    An older, heavyset woman answered. Alisia¡¯s maid and cook, Usha, wrinkled her nose at him, fingering the large mole on her chin. ¡°She¡¯s in,¡± the woman said in a grating voice and once Grevail had entered, shut the door. She dismissed him with a wave of her hand toward Alisia¡¯s sitting room and thumped off toward the kitchen.


    When Grevail first met Alisia, he had assumed she didn¡¯t come from wealth, but the hallway he walked down now told a different story. Fine paintings decorated the walls and even small statues sat tucked into niches. He had come to learn she was the daughter of a well-off merchant who spent most of his time abroad. He shook his head, wondering if the man knew what his daughter was up to. Alisia claimed she hadn¡¯t seen him in years, which made Grevail question if he was alive, or even real for that matter.


    He arrived at Alisia¡¯s sitting room and pushed aside the linen curtain over the doorway to find her lounging as usual on a well-padded red settee with a book in her hand. A grin curved her lips. ¡°You¡¯re back early, Green. Anything to report?¡± She gestured at a high backed chair across from her. ¡°Please.¡±


    Grevail crossed the room and sat, experiencing an excitement that somehow escaped him earlier. He didn¡¯t think he¡¯d ever see the smith, never mind hear any of his plans. ¡°It went well. I¡¯ve got something you¡¯ll find useful.¡±


    Alisia¡¯s brows rose. ¡°Really? Aramis hasn¡¯t left that shop to go anywhere but his home for a season.¡± She folded a page to mark her place and set the book aside. ¡°I hope you won¡¯t lie to me¡­we¡¯ll find out,¡± she teased.


    ¡°Did you have someone watching me while I was watching him?¡± Grevail asked, a touch of frustration in his voice. Despite all he¡¯d done for the Delphines, he was no closer to Seirod. In the back of his mind he¡¯d come to suspect Alisia was taking advantage of him. Promising to help but with no intention of actually doing so, all while he did her dirty work.


    Whether Alisia noticed the tone in his voice or not, she gave no indication, and instead offered him a secretive smile. ¡°Perhaps. Well, what is it?¡±


    ¡°Aramis did leave his shop not long ago. He went to a tavern called The Red Lady.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of it. Not a popular establishment¡­or the kind I would frequent. I like my tavern nights a little more lively than that dusty old spot, though we know the proprietor has remained neutral between Daryn and Carbathe. I wouldn¡¯t expect Aramis to patronize such a place. He has never been known as the quiet type. A drunkard and a womanizer perhaps, but not quiet.¡±


    ¡°A good place to meet someone for a quiet chat without anyone to hear it.¡±


    Alisia¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°He met a woman there. She was his younger by five years, if not ten. Dark hair, dark eyes and a big nose. Most important of all, Alisia, she was present the night Carbathe met with the Urucan. I am certain it is the same woman.¡±


    ¡°Interesting,¡± Alisia said. ¡°She must be very important indeed to meet with Carbathe and Aramis¡­yet we¡¯ve never seen her face before that night at the estate.¡± Her lips bent in a dissatisfied frown, as if this gap in her knowledge made her uneasy. ¡°Did you learn anything else?¡±


    ¡°Seirod is hosting a party. He is sending out invitations for it right now.¡±


    ¡°Invitations? A party? For what?¡±


    ¡°They didn¡¯t say. The woman with Aramis claimed her uncle wanted to discuss something with the attendees. Apparently, her uncle is besotted with a woman named Erphele who is¡ª¡±


    Alisia straightened with a gasp, slapping a hand to her cheek. ¡°It has to be Carbathe! I didn¡¯t know Carbathe had a niece and I know more about him than he does! The woman you saw at Carbathe¡¯s estate was his niece?¡±


    ¡°Aramis wanted her to deliver something. I didn¡¯t see what it was but I followed her when she left. She went to a home near the north wall. The sigil on the gate was a beaver with it¡¯s tail slapping the water.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Teral¡¯s place,¡± Alisia said, chewing at her lip as if she found it concerning. ¡°He¡¯s as close to being on the council as one can be without actually being on it.¡±


    ¡°The woman and Aramis also appeared to be having an affair,¡± Grevail said.


    Alisia¡¯s eyebrows jumped. ¡°Is that so? She is married? How could this have slipped past us all these years? Carbathe is not the type of man to let a marriage in the family pass without gratuitous ceremony. Who is her husband?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but she didn¡¯t seem to like him very much.¡±


    ¡°I wonder who it could be? Teral?¡± Alisia spent a moment wrapped in thought, tapping her small, delicate lips with a finger. ¡°A party hosted by Seirod that Carbathe will be attending. They will no doubt discuss intimate details of their schemes with so many of them together. What I wouldn¡¯t give to have an ear in those conversations.¡±


    A relieved breath left Grevail. ¡°I knew you¡¯d say that. So, you¡¯ll help me get inside?¡±


    Alisia considered the request, then dismissed the idea with a shake of her head. ¡°How? We won¡¯t be invited, of course, and even if we were, Seirod may recognize some of us. I cannot risk any Delphines on such a mission. We have enough trouble recruiting as it is. If something were to go awry at this party while our people were inside, they¡¯d have no chance of escape. Carbathe would know all of our plans then and not the other way around. He likes to pretend we don¡¯t exist around the other nobles, but I know he is just as wary of us as we are of him.¡±


    ¡°Seirod won¡¯t recognize me,¡± Grevail said. ¡°I got what you wanted, Alisia. I helped you, now it¡¯s time for you to return the favor, as was promised. I want to know more about Seirod, and after that, we can talk about how you¡¯ll help me get inside.¡±


    ¡°Help you get inside?¡± She frowned at him. ¡°Seirod might not recognize you, but his guards or the Pictay man would.¡± She stared at him, and for a moment, Grevail thought she might refuse to say anything more, but then her face softened, as if relenting. ¡°What do you want to know?¡±


    ¡°What does he look like? Who is he?¡±


    ¡°He has brown hair, dark eyes, light complexion,¡± Alisia said, raising her eyes to the ceiling in thought. ¡°He is on the short side and always dresses nicely, well groomed.¡± Her gaze fell again to Grevail. ¡°It isn¡¯t easy to find much information on the man. We¡¯ve learned he has been in and around Tamirra for years, dabbling in local politics, but usually never directly involving himself. He is the type to be one step removed from those at the center of things¡ªa benefactor, and a particularly rich one too. How he acquired such vast wealth is yet another mystery. It is unusual that he would invite so many people into his home and draw attention to himself.¡±


    ¡°Why would he be hosting a party if he¡¯s always been in the background?¡±


    Alisia turned pensive. ¡°I don¡¯t know, but it is a question I want answered. Why now?¡±


    ¡°Who is Erphele?¡± He¡¯d heard the name three times now. Once from Iphik, once from Aritane, and now from Aramis. The woman seemed to be involved in everything Seirod was.


    A curious look entered the young woman¡¯s dark blue eyes at Grevail changing the object of their discussion, as if wondering what he was up to. ¡°Raina Erphele. A noblewoman. Quite beautiful and somewhat of an outsider among the nobility here in Tamirra. She has disparate views on some things, and the commoners love her, much to the frustration of her peers. She lives in a mansion fit for a queen. Her husband, Berephan, was something of a local folk hero, but died ten or so years ago and she never remarried. Carbathe is obsessed with her, though she doesn¡¯t appear to show him any affection in return.¡±


    ¡°Do you watch Erphele too?¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course. I had hoped to bring her to our side. Carbathe would tell her anything. He would probably confess all of his plans to Daryn himself if Erphele asked.¡±


    Grevail paused, considering his words carefully. ¡°Have you seen a pair of Sifters around her? Iphik and Grix.¡±


    Alisia¡¯s eyes narrowed at him in suspicion, but she inclined her head. ¡°Yes, I know them. They were at Erphele¡¯s days ago. Our Delphines posted there haven¡¯t reported them for some time though, but they may still be around. We thought it strange she would host such company, even if nobles with deep pockets like Erphele often insert themselves into all manner of conspiracy where those services might be needed.¡±


    Grevail had not considered the Sifters might still be in Tamirra. He couldn¡¯t think of any other reason beside looking for him and the relic that they would be. He spent a moment staring at the floor, pondering his best move, when an idea struck him. If Erphele had an invitation to the party, and Erphele wanted the Emberstone¡­¡°Where does Erphele live?¡±


    ¡°By the south gate on the highway. It¡¯s impossible to miss. Her home is just as lavish as the Council House itself. Berephan did quite well¡ª¡± Alisia¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You¡¯re not thinking of going over there are you?¡±


    Grevail set his jaw and trained a serious look on her. ¡°I need to get inside.¡±


    ¡°Wait¡­¡± Alisia¡¯s eyebrows flattened. ¡°How do you know about the Sifters?¡±


    Grevail reined in a sigh. If he had to tell her more about himself, it was best to keep it short. ¡°Erphele was also after the relic we had. She sent the Sifters to find it and they captured us for a while¡­until Arxaro showed up.¡±


    Alisia¡¯s eyes were unbelieving. ¡°Erphele? She is a Breaker?¡± The young woman paused, then scoffed with a shake of her head. ¡°Let me get this right. You were captured by the Sifters for this Emberfolk relic you had¡­then Arxaro captured you and killed your friends¡­and then you escaped?¡±


    Grevail gave a vigorous nod, hoping she did not ask any more questions. Alisia would likely find the whole truth even more unbelievable anyway. ¡°It seems ridiculous, I know.¡±


    Alisia watched him for a long time, toying with her hair, then emitted a sigh of her own. ¡°I¡¯m beginning to wonder if involving you in our plans was a mistake.¡±


    He didn¡¯t blame her for feeling that way. In fact, he felt the same way about himself becoming involved in this business with Carbathe, but even so, the Delphines knew more about Seirod than anyone else in town, and if he was going to avenge his friends, their help would be useful. He pressed on, determined to get something out of her. ¡°I¡¯ve done what you asked. I got this information from Aramis and now I need your help getting into Seirod¡¯s. Did the arrangement between us only go one way? I remember when we met you said we could help each other.¡±


    Alisia¡¯s face darkened at his tone, murky blue eyes sparkling with mild offense. ¡°We have given you food, clothes, and a place to sleep, Green. With Carbathe¡¯s cronies on every street corner, it¡¯s a risk for us to help anyone. Don¡¯t forget it.¡± She analyzed him, tilting her head one way, then the other, as if rolling around ideas of what to do with him. ¡°What is your plan?¡±


    ¡°Erphele will have an invitation to this party. I¡¯ll tell her I know where the relic is and she¡¯ll get me inside.¡±


    ¡°The relic?¡± she asked, imbuing the word with a scandalized tone. ¡°The one both Seirod and Erphele are after? What are you going to do? Steal it?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°I do it only to avenge my friends, Alisia, so that Seirod and Arxaro will not have it. They killed my friends for it, and as revenge, I will make sure they never see that thing again. Whatever Erphele wants to do with it is her business.¡±


    Alisia¡¯s eyes hardened on him suddenly, as if realizing the foolishness of his plan. ¡°If Erphele can get you inside, what do you need us for? If you are going in anyway it wouldn¡¯t be any additional effort for you to keep an ear out for me. The last thing we need is the Thava on us too, Green. The Postulators would do worse to my Delphines than even Carbathe might if they thought we had something to do with Emberfolk relics.¡±


    Grevail shook his head at her stubbornness. ¡°I¡¯ll accept whatever help you offer. That is what we agreed upon when we first met, isn¡¯t it? If you don¡¯t fulfill your end of the bargain, and I happen to hear anything in there that would be of interest to you¡­I¡¯m keeping it to myself.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t risk any of my Delphines on the inside.¡± Grevail opened his mouth but she charged over him. ¡°However¡­if you are determined to get in there and willing to keep your ears open¡­we can work something out. I want as much detail as you can get. Who was in attendance? Who talked to who? What was the nature of their discussions? In return, we will already have eyes on the outside, obviously, but they will have orders to keep watch for you. It might prove valuable should anything unexpected happen. Do you know where this relic is? How will you find it?¡±


    ¡°I know where it will be.¡± Of course, he would rely on the scratching itch in his head to find it inside Seirod¡¯s house, but he didn¡¯t want to tell her about that. By her own admission, Alisia was no Sacar, but she already seemed uneasy about the Emberstone. If he told her of the strange things he¡¯d experienced around it she might haul him off to the Refuge herself.


    ¡°Seirod couldn¡¯t be so stupid to keep it on the mantle of his fireplace. It will be locked away somewhere. I can get you keys. We know who his servants are and they can be bribed¡­or stolen from. It won¡¯t be all that difficult¡ªthere is one who likes to drink more than he should. While you are digging through Seirod¡¯s things, keep an eye out for anything that might incriminate him in Carbathe¡¯s schemes. There must be something. Those two are in this up to their necks and tied at the hip besides. There has to be something.¡±


    Though Grevail couldn¡¯t be sure what he¡¯d find inside Seirod¡¯s house, if he managed to get inside at all, he agreed. ¡°I¡¯ll be on the lookout.¡±


    She grimaced. ¡°I¡¯m revealing our hand by helping you, Green. This might be the excuse Carbathe needs to deal with us more directly. It could jeopardize everything we¡¯ve worked for, but I will fulfill my end of the bargain. Did they say when the party would be?¡±


    ¡°No, but Erphele will know.¡±


    ¡°A deal then? Our keys and eyes outside for whatever you find inside?¡± She thrust her hand over the table between them.


    Better than nothing. He took her hand.

 Erphele

    Grevail knocked on the slim door in the wall surrounding Erphele¡¯s residence. A steady stream of people passed behind him on the highway near the south gate of Tamirra. He kept a wary eye out for Thavans, or Sifters, and tried to make himself inconspicuous.


    A small square in the door slid open with a clack, framing an older man¡¯s face like a portrait. Dark and suspicious eyes narrowed at Grevail, sizing him up. ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like to have a word with Erphele,¡± Grevail said.


    A furrow developed in the man¡¯s brow below a deeply receded hairline trailing slicked white hair. ¡°About what?¡±


    Grevail raised his chin and assumed an air of confidence. ¡°I have an offer for her.¡±


    The man guffawed. ¡°Get out of here!¡± The square slammed shut.


    Grevail pounded on the door, ducking his head from the stares he felt on his back. ¡°I have information she will want. It¡¯s about the Sifters and¡­what they were looking for,¡± he growled into the door.


    The small trap slid open again. A seriousness had entered the man¡¯s eyes but the rest of his face still held a patronizing annoyance that Grevail thought looked more at home there than a smile ever would. ¡°The Sifters? What about them?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here to talk to Erphele,¡± Grevail said again.


    The man considered Grevail shrewdly. ¡°Wait here.¡± The tiny door snapped closed.


    Grevail turned to study the crowd on the highway. Behind him, Erphele¡¯s mansion towered over a white wall twice as tall as he was that stretched a good hundred paces in either direction. Alisia wasn¡¯t joking when she said Erphele¡¯s place was fit for a queen.


    Just when Grevail thought he was being ignored, the small door clacked open and the man¡¯s face again filled the space it vacated. ¡°Lady Erphele will see you,¡± he muttered in begrudging tones and swung the door inward over a courtyard of white paving stones. Grevail stepped inside.


    The man made no attempt to keep the disdain from his wizened face while he bolted the door. He wore a white doublet with lace at the neck and cuffs, while his blue trousers were piled atop shining dress shoes. Not a guard, even if he has a dagger at his hip, Grevail thought, but looking at the size and opulence of this place, Erphele must have a guard or two on hand.


    ¡°She will arrive shortly,¡± the man said in a way that suggested he was finished talking, though his gaze never strayed from Grevail.


    Grevail nodded and folded his arms across his chest in the hope it would put him at ease. Several horses were tucked inside a nearby stable at the edge of the paving stones, tossing their heads. A thick tangle of vegetation sat between him and Erphele¡¯s mansion, which rose like a mountain over the garden. Made of soft white stone, it glowed with a dull shine beneath the morning sun in contrast to the lush green before it.


    After some time spent suffering under the servant¡¯s watchful eye, Grevail spotted a woman in a blue dress cutting a winding path through the garden. Erphele, he assumed, yet she was accompanied by another, older woman.


    When the women came to a set of stone steps that dropped from the garden to the courtyard, the servant walked to place himself between them and Grevail. Erphele paused at the crest of the stairs, studying him with a frown, then hiked her dress and descended. ¡°You claim to have information about the Sifters?¡± she asked in a cool, commanding tone when she reached the bottom. With sharp blue eyes and golden blond hair, Erphele was a striking woman. Her voice and posture emitted an aura of authority, as if she knew that Grevail would answer any question she posed.


    He bobbed his head. ¡°I have information on what they were looking for.¡±


    ¡°What was it?¡± The old woman beside Erphele brushed a lock of gray hair from her forehead and scoured Grevail with skeptical black eyes. Her face seemed oddly familiar, he realized, but couldn¡¯t pin down why. The simple wool dress she wore was out of place beside Erphele¡¯s finery, but no more so than his own clothing was.


    ¡°A relic,¡± Grevail said, narrowing his eyes at the old woman. ¡°Emberfolk.¡±


    ¡°What do you want?¡± Erphele asked. The chest of her dress was studded with exquisite white opals that must be worth a fortune, enough to buy an Emberfolk relic several times over. ¡°Why have you come here?¡±


    ¡°I need your help and you need mine,¡± he said. ¡°You want to know where the relic is, and I¡ª¡±


    ¡°Who says we look for anything?¡± the old woman barked.


    Grevail answered her question with reticence. Whoever the old woman was, she wasn¡¯t a servant as he had assumed. They regarded each other in stubborn silence for a moment, neither party giving ground, until Grevail spoke. ¡°I know you are.¡±


    Erphele glanced at the old woman for a moment, then cleared her throat. ¡°We¡¯ll hear what you have to say.¡± She turned to the white haired man, who stood with a hand on the dagger at his belt, watching Grevail. ¡°Ophin, I have need of your service,¡± she said and spun to ascend the steps.


    A dissatisfied frown broke over the old woman¡¯s face at Ephele¡¯s words and she hurried to catch the lady. Ophin waved Grevail after them and took up the rear, still with a hand on his dagger. As they walked along a stone path curving through the shady garden, the old woman motioned and spoke to Erphele in heated tones, but Grevail couldn¡¯t make out what she was saying.


    The garden, like everything else he¡¯d seen, seemed to be something one might find at a palace. There were types of plants here Grevail had never seen before and it reminded him of Darunen¡¯s garden which, as the legends said, supposedly contained every plant in the whole world before it was lost forever. The greenery ended at a grand white staircase rising to Erphele¡¯s home that the women were already climbing and Grevail followed them up. Topping the stairs, he found an expansive terrace encircled by railing that overlooked the garden.


    His eyes were drawn to a young woman admiring the view. She wore a yellow dress, but it was her dark complexion and frizzy hair that tugged at his memory, just as the old woman had. With a soft gasp, he remembered where he¡¯d seen her. His foot caught an uneven stone and he tripped, nearly falling face first into the ground. Ophin spun and drew half the knife at his waist, only to stop with a roll of his eyes when he realized Grevail merely stumbled.


    She was in the dream! Had Erphele not only sent the Sifters, but Xylen too? No, not Erphele. It was Articia¡¯s face he remembered from the dream¡ªthe person who¡¯d written the note handed to him by the woman now standing at the edge of the terrace. The smell of her lemon perfume seemed as if it was in his nose again. Was it me in that dream? He shivered, remembering himself talking with Xylen¡¯s voice. What else could it have been? Xylen¡¯s dream? He tried to forget what the relic might be capable of, even as the thought of touching it again filled him with dread. He squashed the feeling and forced his feet to move after the women. If Articia had sent Xylen, he could use that information to his advantage.


    Erphele whisked beneath the massive portico crouching over the entrance of her home and through the open door, followed by the old woman. Another red-headed liveried servant stood beside the entryway. The man gave Grevail a considering look with brown eyes and adjusted the belt around his waist that held a sheathed long dagger.


    Inside, Grevail found a foyer of gleaming white stone, just as lavish as the outside. He followed Erphele down a hallway to a room that held several chairs and a cold, empty fireplace. The noblewoman sat, waving for him to take a leather chair across from her. The old woman sat on Erphele¡¯s right while the red-headed guard came to stand behind the women.


    ¡°So,¡± Erphele began when they were all seated. ¡°What is it?¡±


    Grevail thought everyone must hear his heart thumping away. ¡°I know where it is.¡± Though he¡¯d spent much of the day thinking about what he would say, now that he was here, it was hard to remember any of it.


    To Grevail¡¯s surprise, the old woman spoke first. ¡°We have no interest in relics.¡± Erphele¡¯s lips twisted, as if annoyed, but the old woman went on. ¡°Are you Thavan? You should know better than to enter Lady Erphele¡¯s home and accuse her of such things.¡± Erphele¡¯s eyes widened.


    Grevail hoped his own face was still, though he was not surprised she was lying. Nobody would admit they sought an Emberfolk relic to just anyone, and an Emberstone at that. I¡¯ll have to prove it to her. He fastened the old woman with a steady gaze, the best he could muster. ¡°If the Thava knew what I know, they¡¯d have put you on the pyre long ago.¡±


    The old woman¡¯s brows flattened and a scowl bent her lips as if she were about to give Grevail the rough side of her tongue, but Erphele broke in. ¡°Articia, let¡¯s give him a chance to explain himself.¡± She turned sharp blue eyes on him. ¡°Well,¡± she said in a cool, mediating voice. ¡°What do you know?¡±


    ¡°I know that you sent Xylen.¡±


    Erphele barked a laugh as if she thought it ridiculous, shifting in her chair. ¡°How do you know that?¡±


    ¡°I was in the tomb that night too. I saw him die.¡± His voice didn¡¯t even waver when he said it. He would have killed us, Grevail reminded himself. ¡°I¡¯m not here to play games. I know you want this relic and I know where it is.¡±


    Articia visibly tensed, as if the old woman were thinking of leaping out of her chair to strangle him. Instead, she motioned at the red-headed guard standing behind her. ¡°Kaeno, send in Ophin¡­then fetch the Sifters.¡±


    Grevail suppressed more surprise at the old woman ordering Erphele¡¯s servants about, but did not dwell on it long. There were many stories about the vast array of methods Sifters utilized to coax information from prisoners. ¡°If you do anything to me, I¡¯ll never tell you where it is. No matter how much you torture me. I¡¯ll die before I say anything.¡±


    Erphele dismissed the notion with a wave of her hand. ¡°There will be no torturing.¡± She nodded at Kaeno, as if giving him permission to follow Articia¡¯s command. The red-headed man fixed Grevail with a stare meant to keep him in place, though Ophin soon entered and replaced Kaeno¡¯s glower with his own.


    Articia eyed Grevail with unease, as if he were an unknown, possibly venomous insect. ¡°I¡¯d like to know why you are telling us this.¡±


    ¡°I need access to where it is being kept.¡±


    ¡°Where is it?¡± Articia asked.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Grevail was shaking his head before she finished. ¡°I want a deal before I tell you anything.¡± Realistically, there was little he could do if they didn¡¯t fulfill their end of the bargain. The only leverage he had was that he could sense the cube, and he¡¯d rather not tell anyone about that, though he had the feeling he might have to.


    ¡°What kind of agreement?¡± Erphele asked, pursing her lips.


    Articia shot Erphele a glare. ¡°How can we agree to anything if we don¡¯t know where it is? Is it in Uru¡¯ Phagia? On top of the Elderstones? At the bottom of the Spasian?¡±


    Before Grevail could reply, Iphik and Grix entered the room, followed by Kaeno. Iphik¡¯s eyes nearly popped out of his skull at the sight of Grevail. ¡°Lady Erphele!¡± he exclaimed. ¡°It is the Lowtown thief! Grevail!¡± The Sifter swept the broad brimmed black leather hat from his head and marched forward, coming to a stop beside Grevail¡¯s chair. Grix followed with a stare hard enough to crack stone.


    Erphele tapped the arm of her chair with a finger. ¡°Sly little thief you are,¡± she whispered before raising her voice. ¡°He claims to know where the Emberstone is, Iphik. The one you lost, if you remember.¡± Her eyes hardened on Grevail. ¡°We were told you were captured¡­by an Arbiter? Is that true?¡±


    ¡°I escaped.¡±


    Articia scoffed. ¡°Nobody just escapes an Arbiter¡­not for long. How do we know the Thava haven¡¯t sent you here? How do we know you didn¡¯t tell them anything?¡±


    Iphik gave Grevail a considering look. ¡°I doubt Joszi would let you out of his sight, even if he thought he could ferret out a few Dawnbreakers by doing so. Where are your friends?¡±


    Grevail¡¯s jaw tightened. He expected this question might come, but it still left him nearly speechless. ¡°Dead.¡± He lowered his eyes to the floor when despite his best efforts, they moistened.


    ¡°Why are you after the relic then?¡± Grix asked, absentmindedly fingering the silver pendant on his chest. The tall Sifter¡¯s brow furrowed in suspicion. ¡°You said you didn¡¯t want it and we should let you go.¡±


    If only I had listened to Raela. The stablehand would pay. Seirod would pay. They would all pay for what happened to his friends. He stood little chance of surviving an attempt at killing any of them, but he could steal that relic. If it was so precious that his friends could die for it, then he would deprive them of it at the very least. ¡°I want revenge.¡±


    A sympathetic look softened Erphele¡¯s face.


    Articia gave a roll of her eyes for Erphele and thrust an accusatory finger at Grevail as if she¡¯d just spotted him pickpocketing a purse. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    ¡°You help me get inside and I¡¯ll steal it. Afterward, you¡¯ll give me a thousand ess as payment.¡±


    ¡°A thousand ess?¡± Erphele¡¯s eyes widened in shock.


    ¡°Where is it?¡± Articia demanded in a gravelly voiced, like a dog with a bone it did not want to part with.


    ¡°A house in the north of the city.¡±


    ¡°How do you know?¡± Erphele asked.


    ¡°The stableman is there,¡± he said with a look for Grix and Iphik. He didn¡¯t want to tell them he could sense the relic, though he knew they¡¯d inevitably ask how they are to find it inside Seirod¡¯s mansion.


    Grix rubbed his head with a growl. ¡°I¡¯d like to have a word with him.¡±


    Iphik nodded in agreement. ¡°As would I.¡±


    ¡°What does the house look like? Do you know who owns it?¡± Articia asked.


    ¡°I want a deal before we go any further. You get me inside and I¡¯ll steal it for a thousand ess,¡± Grevail said. Articia snorted.


    ¡°Three hundred,¡± Erphele said. Articia made a choking noise like she was being strangled.


    ¡°Eight,¡± Grevail returned.


    ¡°Four.¡±


    ¡°Five.¡±


    Erphele considered the offer, raising her chin to look down at him with glittering blue eyes. ¡°Agreed.¡±


    Articia breathed an incredulous sigh imbued with disgust for Erphele, but spoke to Grevail. ¡°Well? We need details.¡±


    ¡°It is inside a mansion at the north wall with a rearing horse on the gate.¡±


    ¡°The wealthy live along the north wall.¡± Iphik frowned. ¡°Are we to break inside? Is that how we are supposed to steal this relic?¡±


    Grevail shook his head, keeping a close eye on Erphele. ¡°A man named Seirod lives there.¡± Her lips parted, if only by a hair, but it was enough for him to say she knew the name.


    Articia frowned, twisting her lips. ¡°Seirod¡­do any of you know of him? He must have hired this stableman,¡± she took a long breath and inclined her head at Grevail, ¡°if what he tells us is true.¡±


    Erphele looked wary now, her regal aura fading. ¡°Seirod? I¡¯ve heard the name before. I received an invitation¡­from a man named Seirod,¡± she said.


    Articia cocked her head at Erphele. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡±


    It was Erphele¡¯s turn to roll her eyes. ¡°I receive invitations to things all the time from people I don¡¯t know, Articia. I¡¯ve never met Seirod, but he did mention¡­¡± she retreated from what she was about to say with a look at Grevail. ¡°You knew I had an invitation, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    Grevail nodded. ¡°I overheard.¡±


    ¡°So,¡± Articia said as if she was not happy with the direction of the conversation. ¡°We are to attend a party¡­and then what? Do we go gallivanting through the man¡¯s house while he watches us? Perhaps we should just ask him where it is?¡±


    ¡°I know where it will be,¡± Grevail said.


    ¡°How do you know where it will be?¡± Articia growled as if her patience with Grevail¡¯s vague answers was at its end.


    ¡°The stableman will recognize you,¡± Iphik said, ¡°as he will me and Grix.¡±


    Erphele strummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. ¡°Would Seirod recognize you?¡± she asked Grevail.


    ¡°No. I¡¯ve never seen him before.¡±


    Erphele spent a long moment studying him. ¡°You will be my servant,¡± she decided.


    ¡°Raina,¡± Articia pleaded, ¡°this is foolish.¡±


    Erphele dismissed her. ¡°I won¡¯t pass up this opportunity, Articia. Whoever Seirod is, he would not dare do anything with all the eyes he claims will be in attendance.¡± She gestured at Grevail. ¡°What do we have to lose? He does not have anything to gain by lying to us.¡±


    ¡°This is so¡­so¡­stupid!¡± Articia hissed at Erphele. ¡°We could draw attention!¡± She turned her anger on Grevail. ¡°He could be lying!¡±


    Erphele¡¯s piercing blue eyes analyzed Grevail down to the threads of his clothes. ¡°What other choice do we have? If he¡¯s telling us the truth it may be our only chance. You¡¯ve always said you would stop at nothing¡­¡±


    Articia pinned Grevail to his chair with a distrustful gaze.


    ¡°What about us?¡± Grix asked.


    Erphele swung to the Sifter. ¡°You will come with us. Seirod wouldn¡¯t dare touch Sifters, no matter what he knows.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know that!¡± Articia slapped the arm of her chair. ¡°We must investigate this man first and find out who he knows! We must know who he is!¡±


    ¡°There isn¡¯t any time, Articia,¡± Erphele said in a calm rebuttal to Articia¡¯s vitriol, as if the conversation was over. ¡°The party is tomorrow night.¡± She stood and looked down her nose at Grevail, like a queen issuing a command. ¡°You will stay here until we are to leave. Ophin, please prepare a room for our guest. If he wants any food or drink, see that it is brought to him. Kaeno, Master Drakis will arrive soon, please show him to my study.¡± Kaeno inclined his head.


    Erphele swung to Iphik and Grix. ¡°For the time being, the two of you will investigate Seirod¡¯s property. It¡¯s just as he described, along the north wall. Don¡¯t let yourselves be seen and find out what you can. Any information will be useful for tomorrow.¡± Erphele studied Grevail, as if reassuring herself, then left the room. She was followed closely by Ophin who whispered urgently at her shoulder. Iphik and Grix regarded each other in silence.


    Articia¡¯s eyes never left Grevail. ¡°Erphele may not have the time, or the foresight, to dig any deeper,¡± she began when the woman left, ¡°but I do. How did you track the relic to Seirod¡¯s house?¡±


    ¡°I am interested to know as well,¡± Iphik said.


    He¡¯d thought up all sorts of lies for this, but now the question had been asked, he realized all of them would lead to more questions that he didn¡¯t have good lies for. Instead, he decided to tell the truth. These were the last people who would run to tell a Thavan, and if anything, it might deter them from sticking a knife through his ribs. ¡°I can sense it.¡±


    Iphik guffawed.


    Articia¡¯s eyebrows climbed toward her hairline. ¡°I¡¯ve heard stories¡­¡±


    Iphik turned curious eyes on her. ¡°What kind of stories?¡±


    ¡°Stories about relics, Sifter,¡± Articia snapped.


    Grevail wondered if Articia might be Erphele¡¯s relative, it could explain why Erphele let her order around the servants. ¡°Are you a Breaker too?¡±


    ¡°It is none of your business what I am.¡±


    ¡°If that¡¯s the case, then maybe the business between me and Erphele is none of yours.¡±


    Articia¡¯s lips tightened. ¡°I¡¯m only interested in the relic, that is all you need to know about me.¡±


    ¡°What do you know about it?¡±


    The old woman¡¯s face slackened and a hint of surprise widened her eyes. ¡°Not much more than anyone else I suppose.¡± She waved a hand at the Sifters. ¡°Will you excuse yourselves? This does not concern you. Lady Erphele has given you a task.¡±


    Iphik had watched the exchange with obvious curiosity, and showed no sign of doing as Articia ordered until Grix tapped him on the shoulder. ¡°We should get over there,¡± the tall Sifter said.


    Iphik nodded, but cast a searching look on Grevail as if wondering what he was hiding before they headed for the exit.


    ¡°There isn¡¯t anything else you can tell me?¡± Grevail asked Articia again.


    Articia glowered at the Sifter¡¯s backs as they left. ¡°Are you curious?¡±


    Grevail nodded. ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± A cold smirk broke over her wizened lips. ¡°Most wouldn¡¯t even touch it, much less be intrigued by it. Are you a sibling?¡±


    Grevail scrunched his brow. ¡°Sibling?¡±


    ¡°Sibling is what Dawnbreakers call each other.¡±


    He¡¯d never heard Dawnbreakers call each other Siblings, but they were a secretive lot. The first line from the letter in the dream entered his thoughts. I have an important task. You know what is owed to me, Sibling. He shook his head to dispel it. Was this woman lying to him about being a Dawnbreaker? Who else would go through all this trouble for a relic, even if it were worth a fortune? I¡¯m still after it, aren¡¯t I? ¡°All I want to know is why everyone wants to kill each other over this thing.¡±


    Articia gave an incredulous waggle of her head at his apparent ignorance. ¡°They say Emberstones hold all the secrets of the world. All that have ever been or ever will be.¡±


    ¡°So I¡¯ve heard.¡± Grevail recalled Gaston saying Dawnbreakers thought the stone would reveal how to reach Eldimirian. ¡°Eldimirian? Is that what you think you¡¯ll find?¡±


    ¡°A land where there is no ash,¡± Articia intoned. ¡°A land where there is no Stricken. A place of paradisaical beauty and bounty.¡± The old woman scoffed. ¡°Of course¡­anyone would like to find that, wouldn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Only Dawnbreakers think Eldimirian is real. I¡¯ve never seen ash. Plenty of beauty and bounty right here too. Eldimirian sounds like a nice place but I¡¯d rather have gold in my pocket. Gold is real.¡±


    ¡°Ahhh,¡± Articia breathed through a secretive smile. ¡°You don¡¯t believe what the Dawnbreakers say? There are many Dawnbreakers in Lowtown, or so I¡¯ve heard, but you are not one? You couldn¡¯t believe as the Thava do or else you would never have touched the relic in the first place. What do you believe?¡±


    ¡°I believe in putting food in my stomach.¡± Nobody in Lowtown discriminated against Dawnbreakers, those who worshiped the Emberfolk, or Sacar, those who worshiped the Paragons. Everyone in Lowtown was a mudrat no matter what they believed.


    Articia seemed to accept that answer. ¡°Tell me, how do you sense the relic?¡±


    Grevail rolled his shoulders. ¡°It¡¯s like a tickling on my brain. I can tell the direction it is in.¡±


    ¡°It is drawing you to Seirod¡¯s home?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°How did this happen?¡±


    Grevail hesitated, his desire to know more about the relic at war with the idea of this woman knowing more about him. Amma¡¯s hours of questioning had not faded from his memory. ¡°I held it.¡±


    ¡°You held it¡­¡± Articia raised an eyebrow. ¡°Did you notice any strange things happening around you?¡±


    ¡°Well, everything has been strange since I touched it.¡±


    Articia¡¯s eyes remained focused on his. ¡°The Thava fear the Emberstones. They would rather lock them all away, or perhaps destroy them, if not for the Conveyors. The Siblings seek the illusive Eldimirian, but I¡­I think these objects contain power¡ªa kind of power we can¡¯t imagine.¡±


    ¡°Power?¡± Grevail wrinkled his brow. Everyone seemed to have a different idea of what this relic was.


    ¡°The power to move mountains. The power to divert rivers and travel across oceans in the blink of an eye. The power to perceive the world in a way that we simply cannot otherwise. I¡¯ve heard some say that they think these stones are alive.¡± The old woman laughed as if it were a joke. ¡°You can sense it. Why do you have this connection and nobody else? You are tied to it.¡±


    ¡°Tied to it?¡± A mild panic roiled Grevail. ¡°I¡¯m not tied to it. I just can tell where it is. If it goes far enough away I can¡¯t sense it. How could that happen if I was tied to it?¡±


    Articia shrugged. ¡°Perhaps it isn¡¯t a bad thing? Don¡¯t you want to be powerful?¡±


    ¡°All I want are the ess Erphele and I agreed upon.¡±


    The woman seemed to sense his discomfort and a knowing look sharpened her features. ¡°Riches always come with power and power always comes with riches. Isn¡¯t that the dream of everyone in Lowtown? If you were to unlock the secrets of the Emberstone, you could be the richest and most powerful person in all of Voxetta. It is capable of things we can only dream of.¡±


    Grevail struggled to keep a straight face and pushed Vidian from his thoughts. Whatever the Emberstone was, it would be far from his mind when he finished with Seirod and Arxaro. ¡°It could do anything or nothing at all, just so long as you¡¯ll pay me to steal it. After that, it¡¯s all yours.¡±


    Articia smirked. ¡°You pretend to be disinterested, but I think you want that stone as much as I do.¡±


    Grevail¡¯s jaw tightened and he met her eyes. ¡°Only if it gives me my revenge. Did you promise Xylen power?¡±


    Articia stared back at him, a flicker of anger heating her gaze. ¡°Xylen could not sense the relic like you can. He was not bound to it as you are now. I¡¯ve heard tales of this before, you know,¡± she said, narrowed eyes burrowing into his. ¡°They say sometimes, on very rare occasions, the stones choose someone. If that is true¡­you will never escape it. It will always have you in its grasp.¡±


    Grevail swallowed and forced himself to release the white knuckle grip he held on the arms of the chair, but refused to look away. ¡°We¡¯ll see about that.¡±


    The old woman¡¯s lips slanted in a cruel grin. ¡°I agree. I think we will.¡±

 Shifting Crowds

    Erphele looked herself over in a body length mirror, then turned to do it again. Smoothing her white lace dress, she ran a hand over the creamy, pearl opals stitched into the neckline. ¡°Did you sleep well? Those clothes fit nicely on you,¡± she said.


    Grevail looked down at the brown trousers and comfortable wool shirt Ophin brought him, wiggling his toes inside new shoes. ¡®My servant would not dress in rags¡¯, is what Erphele told him when he asked her why. ¡°I slept well, thank you.¡± It was no lie. He¡¯d never lain in a bed as fine as that which Erphele gave him last night. Feather pillows, a feather mattress, and blankets so soft they felt more like a mattress themselves. He¡¯d been anxious about sleeping under the same roof as the Sifters, but he made it clear if they tried anything he wouldn¡¯t utter another word about that relic.


    Erphele spun in a swirl of dress to a nearby table and the selection of jewelry atop it. She snapped a silver bracelet on her arm and returned to the mirror, inspecting her appearance. ¡°How do I look?¡± she asked over her shoulder.


    Grevail didn¡¯t know what to say. It wouldn¡¯t do to insult her, especially now. Would she be angry at what a lowly mudrat thought? Ophin brought him to Erphele¡¯s dressing room a short time ago with Grevail under the impression they would discuss the party, but so far the woman had not spoken about it at all.


    She studied him in the mirror with a secretive smile. ¡°You don¡¯t think I¡¯m beautiful?¡±


    Grevail closed his mouth and averted his eyes. He would not let himself be amusement for some noblewoman. ¡°Why do you want the relic?¡±


    A soft laugh bubbled from Erphele at his embarrassment. ¡°Why do you?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t. I¡¯ve told you that. Why Xylen? Why go through all this trouble? What is it?¡±


    ¡°Curious, are you? I suppose it is only natural given the connection you claim to have with it. I ordered Ophin to guard your door last night so Articia couldn¡¯t sneak in and interrogate you. She is very interested in what you¡¯ve said.¡±


    As if the mention of his name had been a summons, the door opened to emit Ophin. ¡°Lady Erphele,¡± he said in a solemn voice, ¡°you will be late if we wait any longer. The carriage is ready.¡±


    Erphele rolled her eyes but made soothing sounds at the man. ¡°I¡¯m coming, I¡¯m coming.¡±


    Ophin bowed in acknowledgment, then straightened and swept suspicious eyes across Grevail before closing the door.


    ¡°He hates to make a bad impression,¡± Erphele said as if Grevail should understand.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t answer my question.¡±


    Erphele sighed. ¡°I suppose I didn¡¯t.¡± After a short pause and one final check of herself in the mirror, she waved Grevail toward the door. ¡°They say the Emberfolk used the stones to travel to Eldimirian. Did you know that?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard. Do you believe it?¡± Grevail followed her from the room and into a hallway of white stone with a fine blue rug running down the center of it.


    Erphele issued an unapologetic shrug of her slim shoulders. ¡°Yes, I do.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not afraid to tell me that?¡±


    ¡°Would you tell someone? And if you did, who would they believe?¡±


    He supposed she was right. Cythraul or Dawnbreaker accusations weren¡¯t uncommon, but most people didn¡¯t pay much mind, unless the accused were someone a lot of people didn¡¯t like or it was a Thavan doing the accusing. Nobody would believe anything someone like himself had to say about a lady like Erphele. ¡°That¡¯s it? You think the Emberfolk used these? That¡¯s why you¡¯re willing to do all this?¡± It was difficult to believe someone with so much would risk it all on the speculation of what these Emberstones could do.


    Erphele turned a corner and descended a staircase that widened at the bottom like a wave spilling across the floor of the entry hall. ¡°What if we could find out how they did it? What if we could cross the oceans like they did?¡± she said, a hopeful light in her eyes. ¡°What awaits us on the other side? I¡¯ve dreamt about it since I was a little girl¡ªventuring into the oceans like Luscien and Spasian. If the Emberfolk used these stones to travel beyond the storms at sea, maybe we can too?¡±


    Ophin was waiting in the foyer at the bottom of the staircase with a proud smile for Erphele, and as she descended, scurried ahead of her to the door.


    ¡°Who is Articia? What is her story?¡±


    Ophin struggled to prop open the gigantic door, but Erphele stopped short with a grin for Grevail. ¡°That¡¯s enough questions for now. For the rest of the night you are my servant.¡± Her smile brightened and she gave him a wink. ¡°Maybe for a while after too?¡±


    Grevail prepared a coarse rebuttal, but Erphele floated past Ophin, who scowled at Grevail before scrambling after her. Grevail caught the door as it closed and walked after them across the terrace. The young woman from the dream was not there, nor had he seen her again. He doubted Erphele would tell him who she was either, like Articia.


    When they came to the end of the garden they found a carriage waiting in the center of the wall lined courtyard. It was white with blue trim, and even the horses were white with blue harnessing. Remembering Carbathe¡¯s obsession with Erphele, though she apparently didn¡¯t return the man¡¯s feelings, Grevail couldn¡¯t help but wonder if she supported Carbathe¡¯s efforts to unseat Daryn as Khos. He shook his head, tossing Alisia¡¯s suspicions of a coup from his mind.


    The ring of keys Aritane claimed to have bribed out of Seirod¡¯s servant were tucked away in his pocket. His goal was to steal the relic, and in doing so, avenge his friends. Nothing else was important as that, though he would try to uphold his end of the bargain with Alisia if the opportunity presented itself. He supposed there was no harm in doing so if something Alisia might find valuable fell out of the sky onto his head.


    Erphele climbed into the carriage with a hand from Ophin and sat beside Articia, who was already waiting. Ophin waved Grevail inside with a grimace. ¡°In with you.¡±


    Grevail stepped into the carriage and sat opposite of the women on the leather bench. Blue cloth upholstered the walls and ceiling where delicate patterns of leaves and vines in white thread wound around the windows or curled above the seats. Grevail could count on one hand the number of carriages he had ever been inside, fewer still with the owner¡¯s permission, and none were so fine as Erphele¡¯s.


    Outside, Ophin clamored into the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°Shall we proceed, Lady Erphele?¡±


    ¡°We may,¡± Erphele called back to him.


    The carriage jolted into motion. Grevail stuck his head out of the window and observed Kaeno opening the gate for their departure.


    ¡°Sit back,¡± Erphele commanded.


    Grevail pulled back into the carriage, raising an eyebrow at her.


    Erphele arched a blond eyebrow in turn. ¡°If you want your disguise to be believable, you won¡¯t speak unless spoken to, and you won¡¯t do anything unless asked. You are to be invisible until I¡¯ve given you a purpose. If needed, your name will be Phedor, but I shouldn¡¯t have need to say your name if you are waiting on me as you should.¡±


    ¡°Not what I¡¯m used to¡­but if it helps.¡±


    Unlike Erphele¡¯s expensive dress, Articia¡¯s was simple wool, though the tight stitch and pattern of flowers across the shoulders said it was of quality make. The old woman frowned at him as she might a coiled snake. ¡°I hope you are right, Erphele.¡±


    ¡°What do we have to lose?¡± Erphele had retrieved a pair of white silk gloves from somewhere and was busy pulling them on. ¡°I believe him, and if he acquires the Emberstone, it will be worth it, will it not?¡±


    ¡°I only hope this is the best way to go about it,¡± Articia grumbled.


    Grevail hoped the same thing. The itch still pulled him north, just as it had been. ¡°Where are the Sifters?¡±


    Erphele wrinkled her nose at the question in disapproval, as if already he was disobeying her orders to remain silent unless spoken to. ¡°They will arrive later. Iphik and Grix have special instructions.¡±


    With Ophin snapping the reins, the carriage rolled out of the compound and bounced down the highway toward the north gate. Grevail was surprised to hear an occasional cheer directed at them as they went. A young woman appeared at the carriage doorway, skirts swishing around her legs as she ran beside. ¡°Lady Erphele! Lady Erphele! Bless you and the memory of your husband!¡±


    Erphele responded with a wave and a laugh. ¡°Thank you, dear!¡±


    The carriage trundled onward, leaving the young woman behind, and turned onto Seirod¡¯s street just as dusk gave way to night. As they clattered down the cobbles, drawing closer to the party, a feeling of unease settled upon Grevail.


    It was hard to concentrate on anything else but the scratching in his head. Would he be able to find the relic? What would happen if he didn¡¯t find it? Would he give it to Erphele as he promised? Would he see the stableman? He didn¡¯t know answers to these questions, or many others. He was as ill-prepared for this as much as one could be, but he had to do something. If I had done something earlier my friends would still be alive.


    The carriage slowed. Grevail moved to look out the window to see what was going on until Erphele growled at him to sit back.


    ¡°Who goes there?¡± a man called when the carriage lurched to a stop.


    ¡°The Lady Erphele and her guests,¡± Ophin announced.


    Grevail flinched when the metallic shriek of an opening gate peeled into the night air. An older man with an untrimmed beard peeked inside the carriage, offering Erphele a smile. ¡°Good evening, my lady,¡± he said. Grevail recognized him as one of Seirod¡¯s guards, and though the man did not look his way, released an uneasy breath when he disappeared.


    The carriage shambled forward a short distance before stopping again. Ophin jumped from the driver¡¯s seat in a crunch of gravel to help the women down. Grevail climbed out after them, catching the door just before it hit him in the face. Ophin returned to the driver¡¯s seat at a word from Erphele and snapped the reins to lead the carriage away.


    Erphele stood adjusting her dress and jewelry, waiting for Grevail to join her. ¡°Open the door for me,¡± she whispered at him when he came close. Seirod¡¯s mansion lay in front of them. Rectangular in shape, like a three story brick, it sat hunched in the dark, some of the many windows glowing warmly.


    Grevail clenched his jaw at the order but did as he was told and ascended the stone steps of the looming building, pulling open the door. Erphele floated past, leaving a light and flowery trail of perfume in her wake. Articia came at her heels, tugging the wool dress around herself with yet another scowl for Grevail.


    Inside, in the center of a well-lit marble foyer, a beady eyed man in gray and black livery with Seirod¡¯s rearing horse on the breast took them in with a raised brow. After a moment, his eyes widened in recognition and he bent in a deep bow. ¡°Lady Erphele! We¡¯ve been expecting you!¡± The man straightened and gestured at a nearby hallway filled with the echoing murmur of a crowd. ¡°Right this way! Seirod will be so pleased you¡¯ve arrived!¡±


    Erphele inclined her head and let the man lead the way. Grevail followed, already searching for any clues that might be useful, though the polished walls revealed little. The further they went down the hallway, the louder the chatter of conversation grew until they entered a huge hall. Beneath gleaming chandeliers, a thick crowd mingled atop a hardwood floor layered with luxurious patterned carpets. Nearby, a large hearth filled with blazing logs crackled and popped. Grevail¡¯s eyes rose to the roof three story''s above. Party-goers on a second floor looked over a carved railing to watch them enter, many with a goblet in hand.


    ¡°I¡¯ll inform Seirod of your arrival,¡± said the servant over the din of the party, then disappeared into the crowd like a frog jumping into a pond.


    Grevail felt more out of place than he ever had. A woman wearing a necklace worth more than most common folk scraped together in their entire lives mingled with others dressed just as richly. A fat man in an obvious wig joined them, waving a hand glittering with diamonds. Drunk rich people wearing their most expensive jewels to impress each other? A pickpocket¡¯s dream, he thought. He and Tessyn could have made a fortune out of a place like this on a good night. If she was still alive¡­


    ¡°Can you sense it?¡± Articia whispered at him, diverting his attention from the bejeweled party attendees and the memory of his friends.


    ¡°I can.¡± The scratching was overpowering, and now accompanied by a throbbing headache. The itch rolled back and forth whenever he turned his head but he thought the relic was somewhere above them, on the upper floors. His gaze traveled up the wall. ¡°It¡¯s somewhere upstairs.¡±


    Articia narrowed her eyes, then glanced over her shoulder at Erphele who was engaged in conversation with a woman in a dark riding dress and bedecked in more jewelry than a Tayori merchant. The other patrons, bored with the newcomers, went back to talking amongst themselves.


    ¡°See if you¡ª¡± Articia began but Grevail¡¯s attention was drawn to a man wading through the crowd behind her.


    The man, sporting a well-groomed brown head of hair and beard, wore a dark gray coat with a rearing horse on the breast. ¡°Lady Erphele!¡± he exclaimed and spread his arms as if she were an old friend. His intent brown eyes passed over Grevail as if he were furniture. ¡°I¡¯ve heard so much about you, it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I am Seirod.¡±


    Erphele inclined her head as she would to an equal. ¡°The pleasure is mine, Seirod.¡±


    An older, stocky man with long graying brown hair and sharp blue eyes appeared at Seirod¡¯s shoulder. Grevail stopped himself just short of gasping.


    Upon sight of Grevail, surprise flashed across Arxaro¡¯s face. He leaned and whispered into Seirod¡¯s ear, just as the host was about to say something to Erphele.


    Seirod paused, flicking his eyes to Grevail, but only for a heartbeat before he continued. ¡°Carbathe will be elated you are here, Lady Erphele. He should arrive soon.¡±


    Erphele emitted a pleasant laugh, though it seemed somewhat forced. ¡°Very well. Carbathe is the life of a party after all.¡±


    The shock of coming face to face with the stableman did not last long. Grevail¡¯s blood boiled. Sweat popped onto his brow and his heart thumped against his chest as if he¡¯d ran all the way here. The knife hidden in his coat felt as if it weighed twice as much and were on fire. Even if he were to draw it now, he doubted he would escape Seirod and his guards alive. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°Care to introduce me?¡± Seirod said to Erphele, gesturing toward Grevail. Erphele hesitated, then turned to Grevail, forehead creased with worry.


    Grevail prepared himself to draw the knife, even if it was futile. He would at least see some blood in vengeance for his friends. This fool plan failed before it even began. He reached inside his coat to grip the hilt, waiting for his name to leave Erphele¡¯s lips.


    ¡°I will introduce myself, Lady Erphele.¡± Articia said beside him, stepping forward with a dark smile and eyes that did not pretend to be amiable. ¡°Seirod¡­¡± she said carefully, as if pronouncing it for the first time. ¡°I am Articia.¡±


    Seirod¡¯s practiced smile slipped, and confusion or perhaps alarm sprang into his eyes. ¡°Welcome, Articia.¡± He stared at her a moment longer, as if he wanted to say more, but swung back to Erphele, recovering his composure just as quickly as he¡¯d lost it. ¡°Make yourselves comfortable. I look forward to the conversations we will have, Lady Erphele. The night is young and there is much to talk about!¡± With that, he twirled on his heel and walked into the crowd. The stableman was immediately at his shoulder and the two put heads together as they were swallowed by the patrons.


    Erphele was taken up in conversation by a man with a gigantic yellow plume in his hat.


    Articia placed a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Wait,¡± she whispered. ¡°More guests will arrive, they¡¯ll get good and drunk, then you should go. Whatever you¡¯re going to do, be careful¡­and if you get caught, don¡¯t you dare implicate either of us or¡­¡± The old woman left the rest unsaid.


    Grevail nodded at her words, but it was the surprise on Seirod¡¯s face when he saw Articia that occupied his thoughts. The man clearly knew her, and she him. None of that matters, fool! I am here to find the relic! Articia and Seirod could have a dance and reminisce for all it mattered to him. He wasn¡¯t sure what a servant did when they weren¡¯t fetching something, but observing the plainly dressed, solemn people trailing the nobility, it seemed to mostly involve remaining invisible until summoned, just like Erphele said.


    Erphele and Articia moved away from the door and Grevail kept close, but not so close that he¡¯d draw attention. He belonged here as much as he did at the bottom of the Spasian, and if anybody spent any time talking to him, they¡¯d realize it. Erphele and Articia both grabbed fancy glass chalices of chilled wine from the tray of a passing servant while a steady stream of people approached Erphele to discuss a wide range of subjects. One woman asked Erphele if she supported Carbathe, which Erphele answered vaguely. Another man asked if he could send his daughter to stay with Erphele. She had attempted to run off with a young man and he hoped Erphele could teach her how to be a lady. She declined.


    With the itching throb in his head, Grevail half-listened to the conversation for anything Alisia might value, and spared the other half of his attention to scan the crowd for any sign of the stableman¡¯s whereabouts or other clues he could gather. The longer it went on, the harder it became for him to stand by when he should be doing something. After some time, Erphele moved up the stairs to the second story.


    Grevail thought the Emberstone must be on this floor. The scratching pulled him toward a row of doors at one edge of the expansive lounge crowded with chairs and settees that Seirod¡¯s guests mingled around, drinks in hand. He spared a furtive glance at Articia, but she was preoccupied in conversation with a man so drunk he sloshed wine over the edge of his cup and onto his wrist. If I stand around here any longer, I might go grey from waiting. He took a step toward where the scratching led him.


    ¡°Lady Erphele!¡± announced a booming voice. A tall man with silver-white hair and stinging blue eyes like ice walked toward them through the parting crowd, trailing a purple cape so long it dragged on the ground behind him a few paces.


    Erphele issued a smile that did not reach her eyes. ¡°Carbathe¡­¡±


    Carbathe took in Grevail and Articia, but his gaze snapped back to Erphele as if afraid she might vanish. ¡°It is such a pleasure to see you. Only Volera herself could bring more light and beauty to a room than you.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­thank you...¡± Erphele muttered with a dismissive wave of her hand.


    Carbathe appeared not to notice Erphele¡¯s indifference to his compliment. ¡°Lady Erphele, you must understand, I could use your aid in so many ways. The people¡­they adore you, and¡­so do I,¡± he said, stepping closer. ¡°There is no one better to be at my side when Daryn ultimately concludes, as we all have, that he has no business being Khos of Tamirra.¡±


    Erphele nodded as if she¡¯d heard it all before. ¡°I will consider your offer, Carbathe.¡±


    Carbathe¡¯s brow furrowed, though his voice remained smooth. ¡°What else could be more important? I will do whatever it takes to make you see it from my point of view, Lady Erphele. Daryn¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªis not here to defend himself,¡± Erphele interjected.


    ¡°Yes, well,¡± Carbathe said, ruffled by her interruption. He raised his voice. ¡°Daryn calls himself a leader, but why is he hiding in the Council House instead of mingling with his people here tonight!¡±


    A few cheers of agreement from the surrounding crowd put a confident smile on Carbathe¡¯s face. ¡°Perhaps you will visit my estate tomorrow and we could talk more openly,¡± he leaned close and inclined his head, ¡°without all the prying ears around.¡±


    Erphele tilted backward and averted her eyes.


    Seirod materialized from the crowd to join them, sporting a slick smile. ¡°The man of the occasion,¡± he said to Carbathe. ¡°I should have known you¡¯d find Lady Erphele so quickly, she attracts everyone in the room it seems.¡±


    ¡°That she does.¡± Carbathe clapped the smaller man on the shoulder. ¡°I owe much of my success to supporters like yourself, Seirod.¡±


    ¡°It is my pleasure. After all, we know,¡± Seirod said with a look that included Erphele, ¡°Daryn is unfit to be Khos and you should rightfully have the title.¡±


    ¡°On the pillar!¡± Carbathe bellowed and clapped Seirod on the shoulder again. ¡°A beautiful home you have for such a wonderful party, Seirod, but you must let me send you wine from my estates. It¡¯s the best outside of Marchera, not that yours is all that bad. It¡¯s expensive, but I know that of anyone, you have the coin for it.¡±


    Seirod¡¯s face soured. ¡°I suppose I could make some room in the cellar,¡± he said, then cast a darting glance at Articia. ¡°There is always some old thing left hanging around down there that is well past it¡¯s usefulness.¡±


    A small man with a delicate, bird-like nose emerged from the surrounding crowd to stand at Carbathe¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Evening,¡± he said with a bow of his bald head and an anxious smile. He wore a fine brown coat and pants that matched his eyes, embroidered with leaves in gold thread.


    ¡°Teral, I¡¯m pleased you saw fit to arrive here tonight,¡± Carbathe said. ¡°You have proved yourself a worthy ally, too. With supporters like yourself and Seirod, there is no way I cannot succeed against that layabout Daryn.¡±


    Teral bobbed his head at Carbathe¡¯s appreciation. ¡°Yes, I would like to have a word with you¡ª¡±


    Carbathe waved a hand at him. ¡°The night is young, Teral! We have plenty of time to talk business later. Where is your new wife! My niece must meet Lady Erphele.¡±


    Teral¡¯s mouth tightened at being cut off, but at the mention of Carbathe¡¯s niece he brightened. ¡°She is here, and eager to make the Lady Erphele¡¯s acquaintance, of course,¡± the man said, bobbing his head.


    Grevail realized the woman he had seen with Aramis was engaged to Teral. Alisia¡¯s suspicions had been correct, it seemed, but he did not have long to think about what that might mean. Over Teral¡¯s head, Grevail recognized a large man, several hands taller than the party patrons bending away from his towering form. Grevail¡¯s breath froze in his throat. It was Noz, dressed in a fine coat, and beside him, the other man from the burial stroked the blond goatee around his mouth, studying the crowd. Even in expensive clothes moderately garnished with dashes of white lace at the cuffs or throat, they looked out of place among everyone else, like two wolves among a flock of sheep.


    ¡°Lord Carbathe,¡± the man with the goatee said, ¡°would you please introduce us?¡±


    Carbathe turned to eye the man. ¡°Oh, yes,¡± he mumbled, sounding annoyed. ¡°Seirod, this is¡­ah¡­Vaik! Vaik and his large friend here. Noz, I think it was? Yes, Noz. Interesting name, that. Is it from the west? Drossian, perhaps?¡±


    Noz shook his head. Carbathe guffawed as if he found the response humorous and took a heavy drink from his cup. ¡°A quiet one¡­but big! If only I had twenty more of him I could be in the Council House tonight!¡± The crowd joined him in laughter.


    ¡°Vaik,¡± Seirod said, giving the name a touch of incredulity. ¡°Wonderful to meet you.¡±


    Vaik issued a cold smile in return. ¡°And to you, Seirod,¡± he said, repeating the Seirod¡¯s name with the same emphasis.


    Seirod turned to Erphele. ¡°This here is the beautiful Lady Erphele.¡±


    Erphele, apparently unaware of what had passed between Vaik and Seirod, inclined her head.


    Vaik gave a slight bow to Erphele, then straightened and gestured at Articia. ¡°And who is this?¡±


    ¡°Oh, that¡­is Articia.¡± Seirod said with a cold smirk, as if he were telling a joke.


    Articia regarded them both with flat eyes and an unreadable face.


    ¡°Articia¡­¡± Vaik said with a grunt, then moved his eyes to Grevail where they began widening until they seemed ready to explode.


    ¡°Ah,¡± Carbathe intoned and stepped forward, blocking Grevail¡¯s view of Vaik. The man clapped his hands together. ¡°Now that greetings are out of the way, I suggest we really get to know each other.¡± He offered his arm to Erphele. ¡°May I?¡± Carbathe did not wait for her consent and pulled the unwilling woman with him through the crowd like an angler with a fighting fish. ¡°You must see the estate I acquired just a few days ago. A beautiful view of the Phantha¡­¡± whatever else he said was lost as they moved away.


    Vaik and Noz put their heads together, staring at Grevail and whispering to each other.


    Articia planted herself in front of him with her back to the men. ¡°Do they know you?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Grevail whispered. ¡°Do they know you?¡±


    Articia chewed at her lip. ¡°How¡ª¡± she began, but stopped with a curse. ¡°Get out of here. I¡¯ll keep them occupied. Go and get what we came here for.¡±


    Wasting no time, Grevail ducked into the crowd, heading toward the far end of the room and the doors he saw there. Looking over his shoulder, Vaik and Noz had disappeared behind the shifting crowd, but he still felt as if their eyes were following him.


    Picking his way through the patrons, he paused to study the doors, spotting the open entrance of a hallway during a brief break in the partiers. He moved toward it, sidestepping clusters of nobles engaged in discussion, but a familiar face bobbing like a buoy in the crowd stopped him short. The stableman stood about thirty paces away, and as if by chance, his eyes met Grevail¡¯s. Arxaro¡¯s face hardened and he began moving in his direction.


    Stifling a panicked curse, Grevail darted into the wall of patrons, bumping into a man who grunted an unkind word in return. He pressed on, shooting a glance behind at the stableman and collided with a woman. ¡°Are you drunk?¡± she exclaimed, indignant. He ignored her and plowed forward, leaving a trail of perturbed nobles in his wake.


    Arxaro¡¯s large form helped part the crowd for him and he gained ground, now only a few paces back¡ªthe sound of his rumbling apologies spurring Grevail on. Grevail realized that if he left the eyes of the party attendees, there was no telling what Arxaro might do, but with plenty of witnesses he wouldn¡¯t dare try anything drastic. Would he? Realizing he had little other choice, Grevail stopped and turned to face him.


    The stableman came within arm¡¯s reach, shouldering aside a man, but before a word left his lips, a hand gripped Arxaro¡¯s shoulder, silencing him. ¡°Hello,¡± Grix said, stepping from the crowd to stand beside Arxaro. ¡°I¡¯ve been wanting to talk to you.¡± The Sifter stood nearly a head taller, though Arxaro¡¯s shoulders were a shoulder wider, but they stared at each other like two strange dogs with a bone between them. Arxaro tensed as Grix spread his hands and spoke. ¡°A drink is all I ask. A drink and it¡¯s all forgiven.¡±


    Grevail scurried into the cover of the crowd again. Ducking low, he wove through the patrons, receiving a few odd looks for the behavior, but did not pause or chance a look behind until he reached the hallway he spotted earlier. Inside, he pressed himself against the wall and spent a moment gathering his thoughts. When he was sure he hadn¡¯t been followed, he peeked back out into the party, glimpsing an angry Arxaro scanning the crowd. Grix, still at his shoulder, continued his efforts to distract the man. Swallowing, Grevail spun and walked down the hallway. I came face to face with the man responsible for killing my friends and ran like a coward. Shame bubbled up him as the sound of the party faded, as if they were talking behind his back.


    Stealing the relic is what will avenge them, he reminded himself. The itching in his head had turned into a throbbing pain that pointed him straight ahead and he followed it. Further down the hallway, a door opened in front of him and he nearly jumped out of his trousers, but the maid in Seirod¡¯s livery who looked up from the bundle of bedding in her arms only raised an eyebrow in confusion before moving around him. He waited for her footsteps to disappear before releasing a relieved breath and pressing on. The familiar goosebumps cascaded over his skin and a chill ran down his spine.


    The hallway opened into a rectangular space, like a knot in a rope, and two doors lay at each end of the rectangle on either side of the hallway. A table surrounded by a few chairs huddled atop an ornate rug outside one door, and it was there that the throbbing in his skull pointed him. The smell of spoiled wine hung in the air, too, but so faint it had to be many days old.


    After being sure that the hallway was clear, he walked around the table and tugged at the door handle, finding it locked. Freeing the loop of keys from his pocket, he set about trying each of them, stopping to listen every few moments for footsteps. Sweat slicked his brow by the time he tried them all, and he shoved the keys away with a frustrated curse. Picking the lock might take him the rest of the night, if he could do it at all. He didn¡¯t have the talent for it like Tessyn¡­had.


    He could try to brute force the door, but that would be far too noisy. He remembered the rows of windows he spent so much time staring at when watching Seirod¡¯s house. This room probably had a window, and he might be able to climb across the outside of the building to reach it. He went back to the hallway and tried the handle of the next door only to find it locked as well. Once again, he went through the keys, and to his surprise, the third one worked.


    He thought it might be a guest room, but it was hard to tell in the darkness; there were so many rooms in Seirod¡¯s house he had to wonder if all of them were ever used for anything. The shadowy form of a bed occupied one corner, and what was probably a desk in another, but it was the night-filled window at the back wall that called his attention. Closing the door, he made his way to it.


    The building he saw when scouting Seirod¡¯s backyard greeted him, only forty or so paces away across a lawn. It was shrouded in night and not a light could be seen in the windows. The stable beside it was well lit, however, and there was movement inside. Some of the servants and liverymen most likely, waiting to deliver their tipsy masters home for the night and perhaps having a drink of their own.


    Grevail unlatched the window and pushed it open. Cool, refreshing night air poured inside, accompanied by the sharp scent of flowers from bushes below and the raucous laughter of those in the stable. He leaned out the window, relieved to see the lawn empty. Another window a dozen paces down the side of the building must lead to that locked room. Grevail reached into the pocket of his coat, feeling for the pick Aritane had given him.


    A thin, decorative stone bevel ran from the window sill along the wall on the outside¡ªperhaps half a hand wide. Sitting on the sill, he bit his lip and studied the thing, envisioning how he¡¯d use it to shimmy along to the other window. Sucking air in through his teeth, he tucked his knees close to his chest and swept his legs outside. He sat for a moment with his feet dangling and looked at the ground two stories below. It isn¡¯t that far. I¡¯ve fallen further out of bed.


    Gripping the window sill, he lowered himself down the face of the building until he hung suspended, feet scraping along the stone in search of footing. His arms began to burn, and just as he thought about pulling himself back inside, his toe caught on something. Another bevel it seemed, though this one wasn¡¯t nearly as wide; he couldn¡¯t get more than the tip of a shoe on it.


    He spent a moment resting his arms as much as he could with the aid of the bevel. As he hung there, he was struck by the absurdity of what he was doing. A surge of doubt consumed him, and he briefly considered returning to the hallway with the keys again. Maybe I missed one? The window to the locked room caught Lusin¡¯s light, glaring, as if beckoning him onward. Not far at all, he assured himself. With a determined curse, he began moving along the dual bevels, pausing every so often to rest his arms and scan the lawn for anyone who might have wandered outside from the party. Luckily, even Seirod¡¯s guards were likely enjoying a drink.


    After what seemed an eternity of tenuous shuffling along the tiny ridges of stone, he was soon in position below the window. The scratching slither told him the relic was certainly in this room. He paused to catch his breath, then hauled himself up to peek in the window.


    The dark room revealed very little of what was inside. He spared a hand to quickly slip the spring lock pick from his pocket, only now thinking he should have clenched it in his teeth instead. Gripping the bevel with one hand, he used the other to wedge the pick between the windows, then slid it upward until it hit the latch, and with a quick thrust, forced it open. The panes of glass floated outward and he ducked to let them pass before climbing inside.


    Immediately in front of him in the small room sat a table surrounded by chairs, partially lit by purple moonlight. Bookshelves and paintings lined the walls, though they were little more than black rectangles in the night. He took a step and something hit his leg. He quelled the shout in his throat, realizing it was a footrest.


    The itch pulled him toward a lump on the floor between two bookshelves; a chest, he thought. He crept around the table toward it, but as he did, something on the table caught his eye. It was a sheet of parchment covered in cursive writing, and in the bottom right corner beside a flowing signature was Carbathe¡¯s purple rose. The deal Grevail had made with Alisia came to the forefront of his mind. He licked his lips, eyes straying back to the chest, but after a shake of his head, picked up the paper and bent toward the moonlight with it.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to thank you for your support. As promised, you will be gifted my estates north of the Phantha. If ever you need my assistance do not hesitate to ask. You are my ally, and I will vouch for you as you have for me. To our future in a new, better, Tamirra. ~ Carbathe¡±


    The letter might be proof of Alisia¡¯s coup, but Grevail had much bigger things to deal with at the moment. He shoved the parchment into his coat and slunk onward to the chest. Running his hands over it in the dark, it seemed to be quite a gilded and luxurious affair with many swirling patterns and decorations that made finding a way to open it by hand difficult. Some chests of this kind would have latches, he knew, though did not feel any. He tried prying at the lid but it was stuck tight. After a little more blind searching his fingers stumbled upon a keyhole. With a sigh of exasperation, he again retrieved the loop of keys. He would be surprised if one worked, since none opened the door to the room it was inside.


    He set about trying each key, fumbling with them in the dark. He had made it about halfway through with no luck when he heard voices in the hallway and froze. Shadows moved in the small crack at the bottom of the door and a moment later, the sound of the knob being jiggled sent his heart racing. He jumped to his feet and backed toward the table, searching for somewhere to hide. He crammed himself into a corner where a bookcase met the wall just as the door croaked opened, realizing as he did so that he¡¯d left the window open.

 In Flames

    Footsteps entered, more than one person, he thought. Whoever they were, they did not bring a lamp and the room remained dark. He peeked around the edge of the bookcase. Two shadows stood beside the chest. One of them stooped over and the metallic scraping of a key being inserted in the lock followed.


    The chest came open and a soft blue glow filled the room. A man had opened the chest, and he still knelt before it dressed in what looked like Seirod¡¯s livery. Peering over the man¡¯s shoulder at the chest was a woman draped in a green cloak. She had full, pouting red lips and¡ªGrevail stifled a gasp.


    Azouel¡¯s eyes rose from the chest, narrowed, and crept toward his hiding spot as the smile slid from her face.


    Grevail ripped the knife from his coat and darted from behind the bookcase. The crushing pain of Azouel¡¯s attack grappled on his mind, overpowering even the pounding in his head from the relic being so close, but he ignored both and flung himself at the chest. The man in Seirod¡¯s livery moved to intercept him and they collided, falling to the floor in a confusing mass of tangled limbs.


    The man did not speak as they wrestled about blindly in the dark, even as he gained the upper hand and climbed atop Grevail. The man¡¯s hand gripped Grevail¡¯s throat, clamping tight around his windpipe and squeezing it closed. Grevail fumbled at the attacker¡¯s arm, breath reduced to a wheeze, but the servant¡¯s fingers ratcheted even tighter. The man snarled as he arched his back, locking his elbows and putting all of his weight on Grevail¡¯s neck. A black vignette encroached upon Grevail¡¯s vision, constricting at an alarming rate.


    In desperation at the tingling burn in his face, Grevail hammered at the man¡¯s face and chest with his fists, gasping for air. Just as Grevail thought he would lose consciousness, the servant made an abrupt, loud gasp of his own, his grip mercifully eased, and he toppled forward. Still struggling for breath, Grevail pushed the man¡¯s limp body off himself. I must have knocked him out. His heart rammed against his chest so hard it seemed it was trying to escape and his hands were slick with sweat.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you had it in you,¡± Azouel said. She stood over him, dark eyes hard as stones and red lips in flat line.


    In a panic, Grevail scrambled to reinforce the room around him in his mind, watching for any change¡ªanything that seemed out of place. The Aelfic¡¯s attacks had stopped for now, but who knew how long the man she controlled would be incapacitated. ¡°The Emberstone is mine!¡± he said and thrust a finger at the creature as if it would keep her at bay. He froze. Not sweat¡­blood. It coated his hand in bright red, so much that it dripped away to the floor between his legs. Grevail turned to the servant laying beside him. His knife stood stuck upright in the man¡¯s unmoving chest, just below the collarbone. He¡¯d forgot he had it in his hand. I¡¯ve killed someone. His mind reeled.


    Azouel frowned at the dead man as one might a stain on a fine rug, then shifted her eyes to Grevail. Pain gripped his head. The stinging fingers he remembered from the night at the Refuge dug deep into his brain. He flung a desperate hand toward the chest.


    ¡°You¡¯ll never get away with that stone,¡± Azouel said and came to stand over him, nudging his hand away with a foot. ¡°You will not escape me a second time.¡±


    A pair of arms burst out of the floor in the splintering of wood and wrapped around Grevail¡¯s legs. A pair of hands grabbed his shoulders while another set of arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him tight to the ground. Like growing weeds, arms erupted from the floor to claw at his chest, and yet more thrust through the walls until he could see nothing but a sea of hands reaching toward him.


    Azouel stood undisturbed in this strange forest of limbs that swung and bent around her as if of one mind, a delighted smile quirking her lips. ¡°That¡¯s it, darling. Come to me.¡±


    Grevail struggled to calm himself as the arm hooked around his throat squeezed ever tighter. It smelled of sweat and grime. He attempted to recall the room as it had been, tried to ground himself in what was really there, but was too terrified to think straight. He snapped his eyes shut, yet the grubby fingers still clawed, pinching his body¡ªnails scraping skin and ripping clothes.


    I can¡¯t give up now. I must avenge my friends. I must avenge them! With a desperate yelp he flung an arm toward the chest, grabbing the rim and tipping it over. The cube tumbled out atop a flood of debris, filling the room with pale blue light. Azouel gasped as he slapped his hand down on it.


    I walked past the well toward the storehouse. Disgust and anger mixed with determination in my heart, but I didn¡¯t know why, or maybe I didn¡¯t want to acknowledge it. I turned to look at Seirod¡¯s house with a scowl before opening the door.


    Picking my way through the storage in the crowded room, I wondered what the young girl had been up to. The place stank of mold and dust. It was no place for a pretty young girl, no. I topped the stairs, then walked the hallway to her door.


    ¡°Hello, Arxaro,¡± she greeted me when I entered.


    She reminded me of my daughter, she did. Caran would be thirty years old if she were still alive. As I watched the girl stare glumly at her chains, I reminded myself this was the last time. I should have never left Pictayn, but I signed the contract, and I¡¯d keep my word. If I never had anything else, at least I kept my word. Seirod would let her go, he would. Eventually he¡¯d see she didn¡¯t know anything, no. Just a sweet young girl who got mixed up with the wrong crowd.


    When Grevail opened his eyes, the arms that had been holding him to the ground were gone. They were gone from the walls too, and Azouel¡¯s fingers no longer clawed at his mind. The cube, still on the floor under his hand, glowed like a small, blue candle. He remained motionless, immobilized by shock, staring at Azouel¡¯s silhouette looming over him and trying to understand what it was he¡¯d just seen. A memory? Was that what he¡¯d seen with Xylen? His memory? Arxaro didn¡¯t kill them. He saved them. They are alive!


    He pushed himself to his feet and stuffed the relic in his pocket, fighting Azouel¡¯s searing fingers as they returned. He concentrated on every detail of the room, fixing it in his mind. A nearby shadow cast from the moonlit window twisted, curling into an unreal shape. He couldn¡¯t say what it was that he did, but he straightened it, smoothed it into what he thought it should look like. The pale blue of the Emberstone¡¯s light shifted color, ever so subtly, and he changed it back. Amma popped into existence at his shoulder, seemingly as real as anything else, and opened her mouth to speak, but before she could utter a word he¡­dismissed her¡­and she was gone.


    ¡°Impossible!¡± Azouel hissed as if he¡¯d stabbed her and launched herself at him. He grappled briefly with the Aelfic, then shoved her to the ground and dashed toward the open window.


    He tumbled out head first and plunged toward the bushes below. On impact the air flushed from his lungs and a sharp pain erupted in his rump. He spent a moment moving his arms and legs to be sure they worked before rolling out of the foliage and to his feet. Limping toward the storehouse, he spared a glance over his shoulder. Azouel stood at the open window, bathed in Lusin¡¯s purple light.


    Not even thinking of Aritane¡¯s keys in his pocket, Grevail ran at the door and lowered his shoulder. It flew open with a crack and he toppled to his knees inside. Rising to his feet in the dark interior, he picked his way through mounds of shadowy shapes covered in sheets. Furniture, barrels, sacks¡­even parts of a carriage made a maze of the first floor.


    Lusin¡¯s purple light glared through a window at the back wall where it illuminated a staircase, the same one Arxaro had used. The cube felt red hot in his pocket. Ash and embers, he thought, what is this thing? He ascended the stairs in the dark, feeling at the walls, but when he came to the second floor, his vision had adjusted enough that he recognized a hallway lined with doors stretching in either direction.


    He knew she¡¯d be in the third one. Counting the doors as he went, he arrived at the third and gave it a soft knock. ¡°Raela,¡± he whispered.


    ¡°Hello?¡± came a voice from inside.


    Despite the vision telling him she would be here, he was still surprised to hear her voice. ¡°Raela?¡±


    ¡°Grevail!¡±


    ¡°Stand back.¡± He kicked the door and it flew open, slamming against the wall.


    She sat on a small cot in a dark room, the one boarded up window emitting only streamers of purple moonlight. He stepped toward her in a state of shock, nearly unable to believe she was real. She looked back at him in much the same way, wide eyes unbelieving, as if he were a ghost. He was relieved to see that she looked no worse for wear. Her red hair was neatly combed and her green eyes sparkling, just as he remembered.


    They stood staring at each other in silence until she spoke. ¡°How did you find us?¡±


    With a start, he remembered how he came to be there. ¡°There isn¡¯t any time.¡± He rushed to the bed, pulling her up by the arms. Azouel could arrive at any moment, or Seirod, or several others besides. A ripping panic struck him at the thought someone from the party might have found the servant¡¯s body. Ashes, I¡¯ve killed someone. Luckily, the room was dark enough that Raela did not seem to notice the blood staining his hand. The chains the Sifters had put on her what seemed forever ago remained tight around her wrists and feet. ¡°Where are the others?¡±


    ¡°They are both somewhere down the hall,¡± she said, and before he could respond, wrapped him in a tight hug. Despite the urgency, he drew a deep breath and responded in kind. He drank the warmth of her body and pressed his face into her hair, delighting in the scent of her.


    After a few moments, she pushed him away. ¡°I thought you were dead.¡±


    ¡°Me too.¡± There were so many things he wanted to say to her. He wanted to apologize for everything he¡¯d done since the tomb¡­but there would be time for that later. First, they had to find Tessyn and Adellus. ¡°Follow me as best you can.¡±


    With Raela in tow, her chains rattling faintly behind him, he went down the hallway knocking on doors and whispering his friend¡¯s names. It didn¡¯t take long to find Adellus.


    ¡°Grevail? Is that you?¡± came a murmur from behind another door.


    ¡°It¡¯s me,¡± he said and barked a laugh before he could stop himself. ¡°It¡¯s me, Dell!¡±


    ¡°Top of the Elders!¡± Adellus exclaimed. ¡°I thought you were dead! How did you escape? Oh¡­tell me later, just get me out of here.¡±


    When Grevail kicked the door open, Adellus was quick to clamber out and snatch up Raela in a hug, then did the same for Grevail. ¡°I knew you¡¯d escape,¡± Adellus mumbled into his shoulder, curly brown hair falling over his face. ¡°Nobody can ever keep us caught for long.¡±


    ¡°Come on,¡± Grevail said as he wriggled out of Adellus¡¯ arms and turned to lead them further along, quickened by the knowledge that at any moment the alarm would be raised.


    ¡°Tessyn!¡± Grevail said as loudly as he dared.


    A muffled reply squeaked through the walls further down the hall. ¡°Hello? Grevail? Is that you?¡±


    ¡°Yes! I¡¯m here!¡± He came to the door she was behind and wasted no time putting his foot into it, flinging it open with the sound of cracking wood.


    Tessyn closed her gaping mouth from where she sat on the bed and stood. ¡°Well, look who comes crawling back to us,¡± she said with a wide smile that was bright even in the darkness. Raela and Adellus rushed past him to swamp her, and though the idea that Seirod¡¯s guards could be at this very moment searching the first floor, he joined them. For a few moments they stood in each other¡¯s arms, issuing relieved murmurs and giggling in relief.


    Eventually, Grevail untangled himself from his friends. ¡°Come on, we¡¯ve got to get out of here.¡±


    ¡°What is going on out there? I¡¯ve heard a lot of noise,¡± Raela asked as they returned to the hallway.


    Grevail took the lead, his friends rustling chains and creak of the floorboards all too loud in his ears as they hurried down the hallway to the stairs. He eased down the first steps, feeling his way again. ¡°Seirod is hosting a party¡ªthat¡¯s how I got inside, but we¡¯ll need to avoid everyone to get out of here.¡± Despite all of the planning he¡¯d done, he never expected to find his friends and didn¡¯t know what to do next. ¡°If we can make it to the street, people there will help us.¡± What will I do if Azouel is waiting for us outside? Would she take control of his friend¡¯s minds? I can fight her.


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    ¡°Who?¡± Raela asked. ¡°What have you been up to?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a long story,¡± Grevail said, ¡°and one that I will be happy to tell you when we are well away from here.¡± He leapt off the stairs at the bottom well ahead of his friends, ready to fend off the Aelfic¡¯s attacks, but saw no sign of the creature. Perhaps she had decided better of pursuing him into the storehouse, but still, that didn¡¯t mean she wouldn¡¯t be waiting in ambush somewhere else. He hurried toward the door, grateful for the nearby lantern that produced enough light to easily navigate the stacks of junk. He jerked to a stop.


    Noz¡¯ massive frame stepped from behind a tarp covered tower leaning against the wall between Grevail and the door, a knife in his hand. The bald man¡¯s lips curdled in a disgusted grimace as if he wanted to spit and his dark eyes narrowed. ¡°You made a fool of me,¡± he said, the words almost unintelligible due to his thick accent. ¡°Now, you will die.¡± The giant lunged forward, outstretched hand flashing with the glint of steel.


    Grevail arched his body, just enough that Noz¡¯s knife missed his flesh by a finger¡¯s width, and spun, grasping at the man¡¯s hands.


    Like a pouncing cat, Raela jumped onto the big man¡¯s back with a vicious snarl and tried to wrap the chain binding her wrists around his neck. Even while wrestling with Grevail to free his weapon, the giant spared a hand to grab Raela¡¯s arm, ripping her from his back as if she weighed nothing at all and flinging her across the room. She collided with the post on which the lantern hung and it tumbled free, landing on a pile of rolled carpets where it exploded in a ball of flame that lit the storeroom with a stunning flash.


    ¡°Give me the relic!¡± Noz growled as he and Grevail spun around each other in a desperate struggle over the knife.


    Tessyn hobbled toward Noz, clasping her hands together and raising them as if to club him over the head, but the giant shoved Grevail away¡ªthe knife clattering to the floor between them¡ªand snapped a huge hand around her ankle. Yanking Tessyn¡¯s leg into the air, he upended her onto the floorboards with a loud crack.


    Noz whirled from Tessyn so quickly it seemed his feet never touched the ground, fist hurtling for Grevail¡¯s head. The giant¡¯s knuckles plowed into his chin and Grevail¡¯s legs folded, dropping him hard onto his rump. Grevail worked his jaw, surprised it was still attached to his face.


    Adellus rushed at Noz with a wild shout, lowering his shoulder as if to tackle him. The big man ducked under the charge, picking Adellus up at the waist and tossing him into a nearby heap of stacked dining chairs. Spotting his knife on the floor nearby, the big man moved toward it, but Tessyn launched herself at his feet, wrapping her arms around one of his legs. ¡°The knife, Grevail!¡± Tessyn said, her voice sharp and wild, cracking with panicked fear.


    Grevail dove at the knife and swatted it out of Noz¡¯ reach, sending it sliding across the floor.


    ¡°Give me the relic!¡± Noz howled. Ripping his leg free from Tessyn, he stomped toward Grevail, but Adellus came leaping out of the pile of chairs to grapple with the giant, only to be immediately flung right back into the heap.


    Grevail rose to his feet. The pile of carpets the lantern landed on had went up in flames as quickly as if it had been dry hay, and the fire had spread to several other nearby towers of junk in the cluttered storehouse that was filling with smoke. The blaze already brushed at the ceiling, where growing tendrils of flame raced across the beams. Grevail realized they didn¡¯t have much time before the entire building was consumed. Raela was nowhere to be seen.


    ¡°Raela!¡± Grevail called.


    ¡°Fire!¡± shouted another voice on top of him.


    Arxaro stood in the open door of the storehouse, staring at them in dumbfounded confusion as smoke poured out of the doorway over his head. The man opened his mouth as if to shout again, but nothing came out. Instead, his blue eyes rolled up into his head and he toppled forward into the room on his face.


    As Noz was distracted, staring at Arxaro, Tessyn scrambled to her feet and darted past him toward the door. ¡°Forget that stone, Grevail! We¡¯ve got to get out of here or we¡¯ll burn! Raela! Dell!¡±


    Grevail cast an eye about the room for Raela, but the increasing smoke made seeing anything difficult, and he couldn¡¯t take his eyes off Noz. The man stood only a handful of paces away, as if the building were not being incernerated around them, wide, unbelieving eyes focused on the stone in Grevail¡¯s hand.


    Grevail looked down at the relic to see that it was pulsing fitfully with that pale blue light. Swelling and increasing in brightness before dimming, then swelling and brightening even more. He didn¡¯t know what it meant, but it did seem alarming, and though his heart was already racing, he thought it began to thump even faster.


    ¡°You can use it?¡± Noz grunted, the words a mix of sudden realization and disbelief.


    Grevail stared at him. Use it?


    ¡°What is going on here?¡± came yet another voice behind Grevail, shouted over the roar of the fire.


    Iphik held Tessyn against his chest in the doorway over Arxaro¡¯s unconscious body. The Sifter¡¯s arms were coiled around her slim form like a pair of snakes, yet his eyes remained locked on Grevail and the pulsing relic in his hand.


    A flaming plank swung loose from the ceiling between the Sifter and Grevail, thudding to the ground in a cloud of embers and smoke that obscured the doorway. Grevail whirled back to Noz just in time to see him pull Raela to his side. The big man gripped a fistful of her fire red hair in one hand, and held the blade he had dropped earlier in the other, now pressed to her throat. ¡°Give me the relic or she dies,¡± he said. Raela¡¯s green eyes, wide in terror, rolled down to the knife against her flesh.


    Grevail thrust the cube at him. ¡°Here! Take it, then!¡±


    An eager smirk spread across Noz¡¯ lips. Sinister shadows from the wild flames played on his face as the giant took a step forward.


    The ceiling above them shifted abruptly downward with a deep groan, tossing flaming splinters to the ground trailing wisps of smoke. Noz froze mid-step, glancing up at the lines of fire racing across the wood. Before either of them could take another a breath, the ceiling gave way in a thunderous roar. Grevail threw himself backward as a torrent of fiery debris crashed to the floor. Where Noz had been standing was now an inferno, and there was no sign of the man, or Raela.


    Grevail jumped to his feet, spinning in one direction, then another, but found only solid walls of smoke and fire. He couldn¡¯t remember where the door was, even though it seemed he¡¯d just been looking at it. His skin burned red hot, as if it should be in a puddle at his feet. A boiling anger bubbled over him. He¡¯d been on the verge of having his friends back, and now he was about to die. Molten rage poured into his heart at the thought of it, blazing like the fire around him that swirled in violent wisps atop blackened, malformed shapes. The cube, still in his hand, seemed even hotter than the heat searing his skin. The embers floating on the smoke whirled and swung on the hot air. Vidian slammed into his mind. The fire, the smoke¡ªthe whole world shrank until it disappeared, and the strange man¡¯s face completely consumed his senses.


    Vidian vanished from his head, and at the same time, a loud bang sounded. A strong gust momentarily pulled the heat from Grevail¡¯s face. He cracked an eye against the stinging heat. In the dark, undulating smoke, he thought he saw the light of an opening. He stumbled toward it, wheezing from lack of breath as he clambered over the flaming objects in his way.


    As suddenly as if shades had been drawn, the smoke was gone. Surprised, he turned to see that he had walked out of a gaping hole in the burning building. In a radius around the hole lay smoking debris and a handful of moaning, injured people. One man clutched his head in shaking hands while a woman cast a horrified look at Grevail, a deep gash on her forehead pouring blood down her face. Grevail studied the building, struggling to understand what had happened. An explosion? Had Seirod been keeping something explosive in there? His ears were still ringing and his thoughts plodded along like a stubborn old horse.


    As if his thinking of the man had summoned him, Grevail realized Seirod was there, laying on the ground like he¡¯d been flattened by the blast. ¡°Stop him!¡± the man bellowed, rising to his feet.


    An ominous rumble sounded, and behind Grevail, the entire storehouse shuddered. Without a second thought, he dashed from the building as an enormous roar was followed by a bank of hot, dark smoke that swallowed him whole, obscuring everything beyond a handful of paces. The cube was glowing in his hand like a lantern and he shoved it in his pocket, extinguishing the light. He tried to slow his racing mind and make sense of what happened. Were Raela and Noz still inside? His friends could be alive and nearby, but so were all the people after this relic. Shouts and cries drifted through the haze all around him.


    He bumped into something, and reaching out, felt the form of another person in the smoke. Mumbling an apology, he shuffled around, keeping his head down.


    ¡°Grevail?¡±


    It was Adellus. Soot stained his friend¡¯s cheeks, and his hair was singed in places, but he appeared unharmed otherwise. Grevail motioned for him to follow. ¡°Come on, we need to get out of here.¡±


    ¡°What about Raela and Tessyn?¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t seen them, have you?¡±


    ¡°No, but they¡¯ve got to be close.¡±


    Grevail swallowed the urge to call their names. Seirod and Arxaro have ears too. The dissipating smoke revealed party goers pouring from Seirod¡¯s mansion ahead and Grevail hurried toward them, tugging Adellus along behind. He slipped into a line of attendees moving toward the front of the building while more people filed out of the mansion, issuing worried murmurs at the burning mound of rubble that had been the storeroom.


    ¡°Dell, we¡ª¡± He glanced over his shoulder to find a white haired elderly man in a blue doublet with a much younger woman on his arm. The man frowned at Grevail, probably at the soot all over his clothes and face.


    Grevail broke the man¡¯s gaze and hurriedly turned forward. Follow me, Dell, Grevail hoped. He moved with the knot of patrons as they came to the front of Seirod¡¯s property. The entire party seemed to be here on the front lawn amongst the wispy tendrils filling the night air. Grevail wandered through the milling patrons, raising his eyes from the ground every so often to scan nearby faces for Raela or Tessyn.


    ¡°Why am I not surprised to find you here?¡± Joszi¡¯s chestnut eyes bored into Grevail from under the bulbous maroon hat sitting unevenly on his head. The Arbiter hitched his gold and maroon robes as if preparing to charge. ¡°I saw it in your hand! The filth of the past!¡±


    Grevail leapt into the crowd like a rabbit into underbrush.


    ¡°Stop him!¡± Joszi¡¯s shout rang in the night.


    Grevail darted around one clump of nobles, and then another, a cascade of concerned voices following after him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let him get away!¡± came a cry. ¡°He¡¯s Daryn¡¯s spy!¡±


    Grevail ducked under a hand that reached out to grab him, shoving the owner away and lurching onward. The stockinged leg of a woman slipped from under her dress and swept toward his feet but he hopped over it, righting himself before he fell on his face while evading another set of reaching arms. Zipping through the bewildered patrons, he broke into the open and raced toward the waist-high brick wall along the street. He cast a glance over his shoulder. Ripples in the crowd announced the presence of pursuers. Vaulting over the wall, his feet hit the ground just as Seirod¡¯s guards burst from the throng on the lawn.


    A cloaked shadow broke from a building across the street and rushed toward him. ¡°Follow me!¡±


    If Grevail had breath to spare, he would have sighed in relief that the voice was Aritane¡¯s. He fell in behind as the man turned down an adjoining street. Together, they fled from Seirod¡¯s house, feet slapping hard on the pavement, and when the sound of pursuit faded, Aritane slowed to a stop, ducking inside an alleyway. The dark haired man leaned against a wall, catching his breath. ¡°What happened?¡± he breathed. ¡°There was a fire?¡±


    My friends. Realizing what he had done, that he had left them behind, he stared at Aritane for a moment with an open mouth, unable to think of anything to say. ¡°I have to go back, Aritane,¡± he said when he finally managed to speak. ¡°My friends are there!¡±


    Aritane looked at Grevail as if he were insane. ¡°Go back? Your friends? I thought you said they were dead?¡±


    ¡°I found them alive! They¡¯re alive!¡± My friends are alive and I abandoned them! He moved toward the mouth of the alley but Aritane grabbed him by the arm, jerking him to a stop.


    ¡°They¡¯re alive? I¡¯m happy for you, Grevail, but you¡¯ll only get yourself caught returning to Seirod¡¯s, especially with that fire. What happened?¡±


    Grevail struggled against Aritane¡¯s grip, pulling the man into the street with him. ¡°I¡¯m not leaving them!¡± The words sounded foolish after he had done just that, but he didn¡¯t care.


    ¡°Grevail! Stop!¡±


    ¡°I have to save them, Aritane. It¡¯s my fault!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not thinking straight!¡± Aritane snapped, pushing him out of the street and against a nearby building. The man pinned him in place with a forearm across his chest. ¡°You can¡¯t!¡±


    ¡°I can! They were just right there! They were¡­¡± he began, but the words died in his throat. He couldn¡¯t go back. I¡¯ve lost them again. ¡°I¡¯ve lost them.¡±


    Aritane¡¯s face softened. ¡°Ashes,¡± he muttered, then turned to look up the street as distant voices echoed in the night. The buildings around them were dark, for now, but the commotion could bring townspeople to their windows and doors at any moment. Aritane returned his eyes to Grevail, then pulled him from the wall, and shoved him into motion. ¡°Come on. Straighten up, lad. We¡¯ll find them! We need to get you out of sight. Remember, Grevail, we have many eyes out here, and if there was anything worth seeing, they would have. What do your friends look like? I¡¯ll make sure everyone knows them. We will find them.¡±


    Grevail cleared his throat, recovering some small portion of his composure at Aritane¡¯s assurances and set about describing them as they walked. Every memory and detail recited was like stabbing himself in the chest, only to pull the knife out and do it again. The only thing that kept him from running back, though he knew it would be futile by now, was Aritane¡¯s hand around his wrist. By the time he finished describing his friends down to the small scar on Tessyn¡¯s chin, they were standing at the gate of Alisia¡¯s house. Aritane clapped him on the shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Grevail. Someone will have seen them.¡± The man¡¯s eyes hardened in determination, as if he really meant those words, but he did not ease the grip he held on Grevail¡¯s arm.


    Aritane all but dragged him inside and to Alisia¡¯s sitting room where they found a thin-faced Delphine woman with a hooked nose and dark eyes reading a book on the red settee where Alisia usually sat. Aritane instructed her to spread the description of Grevail¡¯s friends to those still out in the streets. She spared a wide-eyed look at Grevail¡¯s soot-coated face and clothes, threw on a cloak, and headed for the door.


    ¡°I will get Alisia,¡± Aritane said and moved toward the exit himself, but paused, frowning at Grevail. ¡°Don¡¯t leave here, Grevail. You won¡¯t do your friends any good by getting yourself killed. I¡¯ll tell Usha and the others you are not to leave this house, so don¡¯t try it. She¡¯ll tie you up if she has to.¡±


    After Aritane left, Grevail had little else to do but stare at the wall. Adellus was at least alive, and probably Tessyn too, but the memory of Noz holding his knife against Raela¡¯s throat was enough to throw Grevail into a rage. Not just an anger for Noz, but at his own failure to rescue his friends. He stood and paced the room a dozen times, stomping his feet, then sat again. After some time tapping his fingers and fidgeting, he again rose to walk around the room, a restless energy coursing through him. He could not remain still¡ªnot while Raela, Tessyn and Dell were out there. You fool, Grevail. You are such an ashen-headed fool.

 Where The Road Forks

    Raela screamed around the hasty wool gag tied over her mouth. Thrown over Noz¡¯s shoulder, she couldn¡¯t see much else but smoke swirling around the man¡¯s legs.


    The giant jerked and a crash sounded, then he was bounding forward. Raela craned her neck to look behind them. A fat plume of smoke billowed from the shrinking storeroom door. ¡°Grevail!¡± she shouted into the gag.


    Noz raced from the storehouse and rounded the corner of Seirod¡¯s mansion. Even with her over his shoulder, the man galloped through the night as if unburdened, every jarring step accompanied by the jangle of Raela¡¯s chains. Seirod¡¯s house disappeared from beside them, the man now carrying her through the diminishing smoke on the front lawn.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let him get away!¡± came a cry. ¡°He¡¯s Daryn¡¯s spy!¡±


    The shouts raised her hopes and she renewed her efforts to free her hands as she bounced on the big man¡¯s shoulder, but despite screaming as loudly as she could into the gag in her mouth, no rescue came. Noz jumped into the air. A wall passed beneath them, and then the big man¡¯s feet were thudding on pavement.


    ¡°Hey!¡± came a man¡¯s voice. The footsteps of a pursuer chased after them. ¡°Stop!¡±


    Noz ignored the demand and ran onward, covering long strides with ease. He made an abrupt turn, then another, until Raela became lightheaded from being tossed around on his back.


    ¡°Halt!¡± a man¡¯s voice said again, though it sounded further behind than it had before.


    Noz did halt, and suddenly, Raela was gliding through the air. She landed hard on her stomach, knocking the air from her lungs. Gasping to recover her breath and still hanging from her middle, she loosed a startled shriek into the gag when whatever she landed on moved. The horse tossed its head and snorted as Noz climbed into the saddle. Yanking her upright and to his chest, he gathered the reins and kicked the mount into motion.


    The sound of pursuit faded as they sped into the night.


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


    ¡°Let me go!¡± Tessyn shouted into the hand over her mouth.


    Grix never so much as flinched at the kicks she landed on his legs. The storeroom was now engulfed in an inferno, licks of flame rising high into the night sky. Adellus stumbled away from the building, the doorway behind him puffing dark smoke like a giant¡¯s tobacco pipe. Tessyn struggled in Grix¡¯ grip but he squeezed her tight until she thought she was blue in the face.


    ¡°What is going on here?¡± a voice called over the roar of the flames.


    Patrons of Seirod¡¯s party, dressed in fine silks and glittering jewelry, were piling out of a rear entrance to gawk at the blaze, whispering in shocked tones. Joszi¡¯s bulbous maroon and gold hat plowed through the crowd before the rest of him came into view. ¡°You there,¡± the man said and pointed at Grix, mustache wiggling over his lips. ¡°What is happening?¡± His chestnut-brown eyes dropped to Tessyn and widened.


    Seirod burst through the partygoers beside the Thavan, staring at the storeroom in disbelief with an open mouth before a look of rage twisted the features of his face. ¡°What¡ª¡±


    An explosion tore through the air, so powerful it sent Grix to the ground, smothering Tessyn beneath him. She struggled to breath for several moments as they lay there until the tall man righted himself, lifting her into the air with him. One section of the storeroom wall was now a gaping hole filled with an angry orange blaze. A silhouette appeared in that flaming cavern, encircled by fire and smoke. Grevail, coated in soot, stepped from the burning building.


    To her horror, Tessyn realized Raela was still in there. ¡°Raela!¡± she screamed. Grix slapped a hand over her mouth with a curse.


    Bodies lay strewn across the lawn. Some people were picking themselves up off the ground, but others remained crumpled piles of limbs moaning in pain. Seirod popped to his feet and jabbed a finger at Grevail. ¡°Stop him!¡±


    The storehouse shook and groaned like thunder on a distant horizon; a burning timber plummeted from the top of the building, landing in a flurry of embers. Then, as if being pulled into hole, the structure folded in on itself with a roar, spawning a swirling bank of black smoke that descended upon the crowd like a monster, plunging them all into darkness.


    As the wall of hot smoke overtook them, Grix grabbed Tessyn by the arms and lifted her into the air. Hugging her to his chest like an ungainly parcel, he carried her through the haze, even kicking and writhing as she was. They passed dark shapes splayed out on the ground or bent, coughing on smoke, but none noticed Tessyn¡¯s desperate, muffled cries. A form loomed out of the fog ahead, and Grix hurried to it, smuggling her through the open doors of what she came to realize was a stable. Several carriages were parked inside, and the back wall was lined with horses in stalls, restlessly snorting and tossing their heads as if sensing the commotion outside. The Sifter staggered with her toward a white carriage, and after struggling to open the door with one hand, clamored in and shoved her in a seat.


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    ¡°Don¡¯t you scream,¡± he said, looking her in the eye. He reached to shut the door while his other hand covered her mouth, pressing her head to the wall.


    She snarled and did her best to bite his hand or land a fist in his ribs, but the man eventually pinned her into a position where she could hardly move.


    ¡°I thought I saw you go this way.¡± Iphik materialized in the hazy air beyond the carriage window, casting a wary glance over his shoulder at the stable doors. ¡°You saw it in his hand?¡±


    Grix nodded. ¡°Not much good it does us. I didn¡¯t see where he went.¡±


    Iphik cursed. ¡°Neither did I. At least you captured her. I do not know where the others are, but if we want to get our cut from Erphele she might be the only way we will get it. If Seirod captures him, we¡¯ll never see so much as one ess.¡±


    ¡°Right, well we¡¯re not out of here yet. If Seirod finds us with her, we might not leave alive.¡±


    Iphik¡¯s eyes widened, as if he¡¯d not thought of that, and he spun toward the stable doors. ¡°I will get Erphele. Keep her quiet. Find out what she knows about where he went.¡±


    Grix returned his eyes to Tessyn as Iphik disappeared.


    ¡°Please, let me go,¡± she pleaded into his hand. ¡°I don¡¯t know anything.¡± Her eyes went moist, but she refused to shed a tear in his presence.


    The tall man shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, miss.¡± His eyes softened, and for a moment it seemed he really meant it, but that hard gaze returned. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±


    Grix questioned her about Grevail¡¯s intentions and where he might be, but when she refused to answer, the Sifter simply kept her contained until Iphik returned with another man. Strands of the man¡¯s slicked white hair had fallen out of place and his doublet was smudged with soot. His mouth dropped open at the sight of Grix restraining Tessyn and he turned bulging eyes on Iphik. ¡°What is this, Sifter?¡±


    Iphik waved the man toward the front of the carriage. ¡°Be quiet and harness the horses, Ophin.¡± Ophin seemed as if he might refuse, but after sparing one more look for Tessyn, went to do as asked. Shouts from those still fighting the fire outside penetrated the stable walls.


    A beautiful blond woman in a rich blue dress swept into the stable to the carriage door like a swan. White opals connected by a lattice of thin silver chain and draped across her chest were tangled in disarray from the chaos outside. Sharp blue eyes like polished sapphires narrowed on Tessyn, then moved to Grix and narrowed even more. ¡°I hope you haven¡¯t hurt her, Sifter.¡±


    Grix ignored the purposeful jab of Tessyn¡¯s foot into his ankle. ¡°Of course not, Erphele.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Erphele opened the door and flattening her dress with her hands, crowded inside with them. ¡°Young lady, please sit on the floor. I do not want you hurt,¡± she said in a calming voice with a look for Grix.


    Grix pushed Tessyn to the ground with a hand over her mouth. The man then crouched over her, pinning her down.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go, Ophin!¡± called Iphik.


    Ophin waited for Erphele to confirm the order before snapping the reins, and the wagon rumbled out of the stable.


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


    ¡°They say it was the Delphines!¡± a young woman exclaimed, holding an older man¡¯s arm.


    The older man assured the young lady everything would be fine and they filed into a thick line of worried party-goers snaking toward the front of Seirod¡¯s mansion. Adellus followed behind the pair, peeking over their shoulders to search for Grevail, but smoke hung heavy in the night air.


    ¡°Stop him! He¡¯s Daryn¡¯s spy!¡± The shout, somewhere ahead, sent Adellus¡¯ heart galloping. They must have spotted Grevail! The throng roiled around him, unnerved murmurs rippling through the attendees.


    Adellus spun on his heel with a muffled curse and turned against the crowd, heading back toward smoldering ruins of the storehouse. There must be somewhere to hide or another way out of this place. If they were searching for Grevail, it wouldn¡¯t be long before they found him too. The chaos and dissipating smoke had so far hidden his chains, but he had to get out of sight before someone noticed.


    The crowd parted to reveal Seirod standing together with Carbathe. Adellus ducked behind a knot of patrons who were busy staring at the flaming ruins in shock.


    Carbathe studied the remains of the still-burning storehouse, snow-white eyebrows cratering over his eyes. ¡°I only know one man who could be responsible for this!¡± he said, loudly enough for all to hear. Whispers of ¡®Daryn¡¯ snaked through the crowd.


    Seirod growled and threw his hands in the air. ¡°Yes! Daryn must be responsible! The devious brute! I want answers!¡±


    Moving away from the men, Adellus slipped through the onlookers and past a well to work his way down the side of Seirod¡¯s mansion toward a darkened and empty area of the property ahead. Keeping his chains taut so they wouldn¡¯t make noise, he glanced over his shoulder, though luckily, no one had followed. Scanning the grounds, he searched for some way he might escape.


    He stopped at the corner of the mansion to analyze the high wall about twenty paces away. Even without the chains it would be hard to climb, and with them, probably impossible. He peered around the corner toward the front lawn where the thick crowd of nobles stood. Carriages had been drawn from the stable for the more distinguished guests who were now climbing inside. A blue and white carriage rumbled along the gravel path toward the gate.


    ¡°Don¡¯t run, Adellus. I don¡¯t want to hurt you, no.¡±


    Adellus spun, planting his back against the cold stone of Seirod¡¯s mansion.


    Arxaro crept toward him out of the night, hands extended in front of him in a calming gesture. A large red welt shown down one side of his face.


    Adellus scowled at him. ¡°Don¡¯t come any closer! I¡¯ll¡­I¡¯ll do¡­something!¡±


    The man''s eyes seemed to hold some sympathy. ¡°I know you want to go after your friends, I do, but if you tell us where they went, we can find them together.¡±


    Adellus bellowed a hoarse shout and stumbled into a run toward the crowd on Seirod¡¯s lawn, chains slapping around his ankles.


    In a few strides Arxaro closed the gap, wrapping burly arms around him. ¡°I told you I won¡¯t hurt you, yes?¡±


    ¡°Let me go!¡± Adellus shouted, struggling and kicking in Arxaro¡¯s hands.


    None of those at the front of Seirod¡¯s mansion so much as looked in his direction, much less moved to help as Arxaro dragged him from view around the corner.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I am,¡± Arxaro said, clapping a hand over Adellus¡¯ mouth, ¡°but I have to¡­¡±

 In Memory

    Aritane was gone for quite some time, but when he did return, Alisia swept into the room behind him, her face a mix of disbelief and worry.


    ¡°What happened?¡± she asked as she came to sit across from Grevail. ¡°What is all over your face and clothes?¡±


    He shook his head and paused, trying to remember everything. From the moment he walked through Seirod¡¯s door to meeting Aritane in the street was a blur. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. I found my friends¡­they are alive. They¡¯re alive, Alisia, I have to save them!¡±


    ¡°At Seirod¡¯s?¡± Alisia asked, confused. ¡°Where are they now?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡­ash and embers, I lost them during the fire.¡±


    Alisia¡¯s jaw dropped with a faint gasp. ¡°The fire?¡±


    Aritane spoke, taking a seat on the settee beside Alisia. ¡°There was a fire behind Seirod¡¯s house¡ªsome kind of warehouse, I think. I heard an explosion from where I was in the street. It was so loud, I¡¯m sure they heard it at the Urucan gate. Whatever it was, it brought the party to a premature end. I saw Grevail being chased through a crowd on Seirod¡¯s lawn and helped him escape.¡±


    Alisia spent a moment studying Aritane¡¯s face before furrowing her brow at Grevail. ¡°How did the fire start? Did you have anything to do with it? Why were you being chased?¡±


    ¡°I found my friends. We tried to escape, but we were discovered. A fight broke out and the fire started when a lantern broke. It was during the fire I lost my friends.¡± It was hard to believe that it had happened. It seemed unreal. ¡°I was spotted. I had to run. I abandoned them.¡± He cursed, slamming a fist down on the arm of his chair.


    Auphen rushed through the linen sheet over the door. ¡°Well, you sure put on a show,¡± he said to Grevail. ¡°What happened in there? Our Delphines have their hands full trying to keep eyes on everything tonight.¡±


    After filling in the copper-haired young man on the events inside Seirod¡¯s house, Auphen spoke to Grevail. ¡°Thanks to the descriptions Aritane got us we have an idea of what happened to your friends. We had several people watching Seirod¡¯s house tonight, along with our usual positions around town too. I saw the red-headed girl, Raela. She was carried out of there by a giant man right after the fire started. In the confusion, I don¡¯t know that anyone paid much attention to them with everything else that was going on. Very strange thing to see, even on a night like this.¡±


    The relief Grevail felt upon hearing Raela had not been burned alive was quashed by his stomach turning over at the thought of her in the hands of Noz and Vaik. ¡°Noz.¡±


    The others exchanged glances, likely wondering who Noz was, but Auphen went on. ¡°We believe Adellus is still at Seirod¡¯s. He was last seen with the Pictay fellow.¡±


    Seirod hadn¡¯t hurt any of Grevail¡¯s friends so far. He could only hope the man didn¡¯t fly into a rage over what he had done and take revenge on Dell.


    ¡°Our Delphine at Erphele¡¯s spotted Tessyn. Apparently, she tried to escape from a carriage just before it entered the woman¡¯s home, but was captured again and taken inside.¡±


    Grevail didn¡¯t think Erphele would hurt Tessyn, no matter what he had promised her, but Articia, he wasn¡¯t so sure. Articia seemed as cold as a winter wind, much more so than Erphele, and Grevail would bet all the ess in the world Articia would do whatever necessary to get that relic. It would be a no small task freeing his friends from the hands of all these people, but he had what they all wanted. They won¡¯t hurt them so long as I have this relic.


    The Delphine¡¯s faces twisted in confusion as Grevail arched his body into the chair back, digging into his pocket to wriggle out the Emberstone. The odd slanted triangles in the small glass circles on each side of the cube were lit by the soft blue glow now. The golden filigree around the edges of the black metal glittered in the light of the lamps spread around the room. He held it in front of his face, watching them over the top of it.


    Alisia leaned back as if he had brandished a weapon at her, eyebrows jumping. ¡°Is that what I think it is, Grevail?¡±


    ¡°Yes. It is an Emberfolk relic.¡±


    Aritane cursed. ¡°Why do you have that? Are you a Dawnbreaker?¡±


    Grevail met his eyes. ¡°No. I¡¯m not. I want my friends back. The people who have them want this relic. I will trade the relic for my friends, but I¡¯m going to need your help.¡±


    ¡°If they all want that thing, how are you going to¡ª¡± Alisia gasped. ¡°You mean to lure them all at the same time?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like this, Alisia,¡± Aritane said and frowned at the relic like it was about to jump out of Grevail¡¯s hand and attack him. ¡°You and Auphen are not Sacar. You don¡¯t follow the Accord, but I do.¡±


    Alisia patted the dark-haired man on the shoulder. ¡°The Accord says you can¡¯t touch it¡­so don¡¯t touch it. Nobody will ask you to do that.¡±


    Grevail set the Emberstone on the table between them. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Aritane. I do not mean to worry you, but this is the only way I¡¯m going to get my friends back.¡±


    Aritane wrinkled his nose at the relic, dark eyes glittering with suspicion. ¡°I understand. I do not like it, but I understand.¡±


    ¡°Seirod and Erphele are Breakers?¡± Auphen asked, dumbfounded.


    Alisia shrugged as if it seemed surprising to her too. ¡°Apparently. If it weren¡¯t for the fact that the Thava might hand us over to the Postulators along with them, I might tell the Refuge.¡±


    Auphen grunted at Alisia¡¯s words and leaned over the table, looking at the cube. ¡°Must be worth a fortune with all that gold.¡± He showed none of the disdain Aritane had but instead curiosity, still, he made no move to touch it. ¡°How do you plan to free your friends, then, Grevail?¡±


    ¡°I will send an invitation to Seirod, Vaik, and Erphele to meet me somewhere in the city. Then, I will exchange the relic for my friends.¡±


    ¡°I suppose they don¡¯t want to share it do they?¡± Alisia asked. ¡°What if they just kill you and take it?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why I need your help.¡±


    A tired sigh left Alisia. ¡°I know rescuing your friends is very important, Grevail, but our priority is stopping Carbathe. I would like to help, but showing our hand prematurely might end in disaster. I¡¯ve already taken great risks in helping you, especially considering you are involved with¡­that,¡± she said, nodding at the relic. ¡°I don¡¯t know if now is¡ª¡±


    ¡°It might be too late,¡± Aritane grunted, as if it wasn¡¯t the first conversation they¡¯d had on the subject. ¡°By the time we make our move, it will be too late.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think it is,¡± Alisia countered. ¡°The city is boiling, but still, I think we must wait.¡±


    ¡°Might be boiled alive if we wait any longer,¡± Aritane returned.


    Alisia gave a forceful shake of her head that sent her lustrous hair swirling. ¡°We might be boiled alive if we act too soon. We need proof of Carbathe¡¯s schemes, Aritane. If rumors were enough to stop Carbathe, he¡¯d have been locked away years ago.¡±


    Grevail had done everything Alisia had asked of him, and it rankled that she still seemed unwilling to help. Even so, he had to admit that he had roiled the ant¡¯s nest tonight, which was the last thing Alisia wanted. Suddenly, he remembered the letter he¡¯d found in Seirod¡¯s house. He dove into his coat pocket for it. If anything convinced her to help him, it would be that. ¡°Perhaps this will change your mind,¡± he said, passing it across the table.


    Alisia frowned at the parchment, then opened it and began reading, her eyes growing the further down the page she went. ¡°It has Carbathe¡¯s seal!¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± Aritane asked. Alisia passed him the letter and after looking it over, the man tossed his head in disgust. ¡°Teral is in on it,¡± he said, handing the letter to Auphen.


    ¡°Carbathe mentions Seirod¡¯s aid,¡± Alisia said. ¡°What did he do for Carbathe?¡±


    Aritane frowned. ¡°All we really know about the man is that he¡¯s rich, and I¡¯d assume he has been supplementing Carbathe¡¯s income¡­paying for his henchmen.¡±


    ¡°Teral is betrothed to Carbathe¡¯s niece, too,¡± Grevail said.


    Alisia raised an eyebrow at him. ¡°So it was true?¡± She pursed her lips. ¡°She is seeing another man behind his back on top of it.¡±


    Auphen looked up from the letter. ¡°He¡¯s a weakness.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll get to work on him,¡± Aritane said. ¡°I know just how to do it. I¡¯ve been slipping his liverymen ess since winter.¡±


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Alisia bobbed her head as if she was thinking the same thing. ¡°If he knew what his new wife was up to, and how Carbathe was about to stab him in the back, he might be willing to talk.¡±


    ¡°Would he believe it though?¡± Aritane asked.


    Alisia spread her hands. ¡°This is too good a chance to pass up, I think.¡±


    The room dipped into silence as the others pondered what she said.


    ¡°Getting Teral talking might take some time, and while Aritane sets to work on that, I have another idea that could make everything much easier,¡± Alisia said. ¡°On the next Grievance day, I¡¯ll take this note to Daryn. Even if Carbathe is there, there isn¡¯t any way he can deny this.¡±


    Aritane mulled it over. ¡°What more proof could Daryn need? What else could force his hand? He will have to do something about Carbathe after reading that.¡±


    Auphene scoffed. ¡°Will he? He hasn¡¯t done anything up till now, even after all the evidence we¡¯ve found.¡± He harrumphed. ¡°Well¡­I guess we haven¡¯t found any physical proof like this to give him,¡± he said pointing at the letter. ¡°Until now, nobody had any reason to believe us, but they can¡¯t not believe that. They¡¯ll have to if they are holding it in their hand.¡±


    ¡°And my friends?¡± Grevail asked. Their eyes were drawn to him as if remembering he was there.


    Alisia centered calculating, deep blue eyes on him. ¡°I¡¯ll offer you a deal, Grevail. If you come with me to give this letter to Daryn, and tell him everything you saw at Seirod¡¯s house, I will give you the full support of the Delphines in the rescue of your friends.¡±


    ¡°Daryn might even help free your friends himself,¡± Auphen said. ¡°With that note, Seirod, Carbathe, and probably Erphele as well should be arrested.¡±


    ¡°He won¡¯t arrest me on the spot when we give him the letter? After telling him how I stole it from Seirod?¡± Grevail asked. He didn¡¯t know anything about this man Daryn. ¡°He has more in common with these nobles than he does us, doesn¡¯t he?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m certain,¡± Alisia said. ¡°Daryn is a just man.¡± Auphen scowled but Alisia went on. ¡°If somehow he doesn¡¯t act, and the Parents watch over us if he doesn¡¯t, we¡¯ll help rescue your friends. Please, Grevail. Just this last thing. It will be all the more believable if you are there to tell him how you found this.¡±


    Aritane nodded in agreement. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry, Grevail. After reading that note, I¡¯d help save your friends if they were with the Lady of Graves herself. We¡¯ve spent a long time searching for evidence just like that.¡±


    Auphen grunted to add his consent too. ¡°You¡¯ve done a lot in your time here. I accept you as one us.¡±


    ¡°If you think it will help,¡± Grevail said, but an uneasy feeling gripped him, as if he were again stepping into something better left alone. Despite that, he knew if he wanted his friends back, he could not do it by himself. ¡°I¡¯ll come with you.¡±


    Alisia nodded as if it were decided and set about making plans with Aritane and Auphen. Grevail listened for a while, though his thoughts were inevitably drawn back to his friends. When he stood and moved toward the exit with the intention of retiring to bed, Aritane gave him another warning about leaving Alisia¡¯s house.


    He trekked tiredly up the stairs, and closing the door to his room, laid down on the bed. He set the cube on his chest where it rested in a pillar of moonlight beaming through the window. The glass circle with the odd slanted triangle was not alive with that pale blue light now. Sometimes it was there, and sometimes not, but he was relieved it was not there now. Whenever it was, more often than not, the relic was about to do something strange. Ash and embers I wish this thing was leagues away from me. Sleep tugged at him, but thinking about his friends kept him awake most of the night. When he finally fell asleep, he was staring at that leaning triangle on the glass circle, wondering what it all meant.


    I stood in the trees at the edge of the clearing, watching as the wagons and tarps were prepared. Night darkened the sky as the distant shadows of men set about the work. ¡°Did you cover your tracks at the river?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Of course,¡± came a reply from someone standing beside me. The voice was deep and confident. ¡°Our spies tell us that no one is the wiser. They will not suspect a thing when we arrive.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± I said, then felt a rush of excitement that pimpled my skin, but I wasn¡¯t sure why. ¡°Be sure that you have enough uniforms to disguise yourselves when the time comes. Steal them or make them yourself, but they will be needed. I must see to matters in Tamirra. Stay out of sight. If they so much as catch a glimpse of you out here our plans will be ruined.¡± No reply came back as I turned and walked into the trees. As I left the meadow, the landscape slowly became brighter. From night, to morning, then noon in a matter of moments, and from there it simply grew brighter still, until everything was consumed by a pure white.


    White in every direction. Beneath Grevail was the familiar metallic chair. It seemed to be made of steel, and was polished to a mirror finish, yet his fingers left not a mark on it. Another dream. He rose and looked down at his feet. He clearly stood on something, though he couldn¡¯t see what. It looked like the same infinite white below his feet as it was anywhere else he looked. Reaching down, he stretched out his hand. It was perfectly smooth.


    He stood again and walked in a circle around the chair. It did not cast a shadow, just like before, and neither did he. He was perfectly lit as if under a noonday sun, but looking around, saw no source of light. He stared off into the distance of the never-ending white landscape, searching for¡­anything.


    Vidian popped into existence several dozen paces away. One moment he wasn¡¯t there, and the next, he was. The tall, impossibly thin creature strode toward Grevail with long limbs swinging and bleached white eyes studying. He wore a toga of plain white silk that stretched down to his knees and swayed with his movements. Grevail did not budge as the thing stopped a few paces away.


    ¡°I knew I¡¯d see you again,¡± said Vidian. ¡°You can feel it, can¡¯t you?¡± He smirked, gray skin like ash wrinkling around the corners of his mouth. He raised a bony hand and pointed a finger twice as long as it should be at Grevail. ¡°You should not let it out of your sight, Tameling. Your life depends on it.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Grevail asked, surprised that his teeth were not chattering for all the fear this creature instilled in him.


    Vidian scoffed. ¡°The Aevum, of course. I know that you can sense it. I¡¯ve given you that much at least.¡±


    ¡°Aevum?¡± Grevail¡¯s leg hit the chair and only then did he realize he had been backing away. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you are talking about.¡±


    Vidian shook his head, murmuring something under his breath, then raised his voice. ¡°Perhaps it is this that frightens you?¡± he said, motioning at the whiteness around them. ¡°Do you need comfort? I know what comforts you.¡± Vidian raised a hand beside his head and snapped his fingers.


    There was no movement. No blurring of color or sound of any kind. One moment the forever-white had surrounded them, and now Grevail¡¯s shack in Lowtown did. It was just as he left it, everything where it was when they walked out the door. Raela¡¯s blankets were still in a pile on her bunk. Dell¡¯s empty bottle of wine beside the firepit. One of the uprights of the bunk had several stab marks from Tessyn¡¯s knife. Grevail stood beside his own bunk. Warily, he reached out to touch it. The wood felt real. This is a dream.


    Vidian stood beside the empty fire pit, and with another snap of his fingers, a flame flared to life. One moment it was empty, and then in a blink, a brilliant blaze danced atop fresh firewood. ¡°Is this better? Do you feel more at ease?¡±


    Grevail urged himself to wake up. ¡°This is a dream. This is a dream. This is a dream. It is not real.¡±


    ¡°It is real,¡± Vidian said, staring into the flames. ¡°It is all very real.¡±


    ¡°You are a liar!¡± Grevail growled. ¡°I want you out of my head! Do you understand?¡±


    Vidian chuckled and raised his eyes from the fire. ¡°I can¡¯t let that happen. I will not hurt you, Grevail.¡±


    The creature¡¯s wheezing chuckle tightened Grevail¡¯s jaw. I don¡¯t want to be here. I don¡¯t have to be here, creature. Eyeing the fire, he remembered that sometimes he had dreams where he would wake up when he fell or was injured. He wasn¡¯t going to stay here in this dream with this¡­thing. This wasn¡¯t real. ¡°You can¡¯t hurt anything. You¡¯re not real.¡± He stepped forward and thrust his hand into the flames.


    Only for a moment did he feel the stinging heat and surprisingly, the pain, before Vidian¡¯s hand slammed into his chest, flinging him backward. Arms whirling, he landed on his rump with a smack, back pressed against his bed. ¡°Fool!¡± Vidian barked. ¡°I¡¯ve told you that I will not hurt you, but I can¡¯t do anything about you hurting yourself.¡±


    Grevail looked down at his arm to find it angry and burning with much of the hair singed off. He touched it, wincing.


    Vidian stared at him for a moment, as if thinking, then spoke, but not to Grevail. ¡°Something is wrong. Very wrong. What has happened?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be here!¡± Grevail shouted at him.


    Vidian returned his attention to the fire. ¡°I know, but it must be. I need your help, and you need mine.¡±


    Grevail picked himself up off the ground. He clung to the bunk as if it were the only thing keeping him standing. ¡°I don¡¯t need you. You¡¯re not real!¡±


    ¡°Do you need to be convinced further? Do you need further comfort? How about this?¡± he accompanied the final emphasized word with a sharp clap of his hands.


    Grevail flinched at the sound, and at first, didn¡¯t notice any change, but then, a familiar soft voice filled the room.


    ¡°Caoquin strode through the forest, looking for the Shimmerbeast¡¯s trail. He spotted its footprints and knew it would be close. Drawing his sword, Diandiar, he crept through the underbrush on silent feet, eyes skittering from here to there, waiting for the beast to make itself known but¡­¡±


    Raela sat on her bunk, wrapped in a blanket and reading from a book. A book Grevail remembered well. ¡°Raela?¡± he asked.


    She did not look up, only continued reading.


    ¡°Raela?¡± he said again. ¡°Raela, what¡ª¡±


    ¡°Are you ready to talk?¡± Vidian asked. ¡°Isn¡¯t this what you find relaxing? Your friend reading to you?¡±


    ¡°What are you doing to her!¡± Grevail shouted at him, then spun back to Raela, but she only continued to read as if neither of them were there. ¡°Raela!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve done nothing to her,¡± Vidian said. ¡°She is just as you remember, isn¡¯t she?¡± He issued an abrupt sigh. ¡°This doesn¡¯t appear to be working.¡±


    Suddenly, the roomed seemed to lurch as if it had been kicked by a giant. Grevail stumbled into Vidian, then pushed the creature away.


    ¡°Far too short,¡± Vidian said, shaking his head. ¡°You will learn.¡±


    The door of the shack burst open, sending splintered boards sliding across the floor. A giant form stepped inside where the light from the fire spawned blue streaks jetting across the broad black plates of their armor. Vidian did not move and instead stood staring at Grevail, but Raela jumped to her feet, dropping the book to the floor with a shriek that hurt Grevail¡¯s ears. The black clad soldier thundered across the room in the clanking of metal to grab hold of her.


    ¡°Stop! Let her go!¡± Grevail moved toward them.


    Vidian¡¯s spidery arms wrapped around Grevail, stopping him. The creature pushed him backward until they both slammed into the wall on the other side of the room. ¡°You need to keep it with you,¡± he hissed into Grevail¡¯s ear.


    Beyond them, the black-plated soldier had Raela¡¯s throat clenched in a gauntlet. It unsheathed a black dagger from its belt that gleamed menacingly in the light from the fire. Grevail struggled to free himself, but Vidian¡¯s thin, bony arms were much stronger than they looked. ¡°Let go of me! Raela!¡±


    ¡°Keep it with you,¡± Vidian whispered again. ¡°All of your lives depend on it.¡±


    Morning light streamed across the Emberstone on his chest; the glass circle with the strange triangle flickered a pale blue. With a yelp, Grevail pushed it off of his body and onto the bed, then sat up, being careful not to touch it again. He stared at it, breathing heavily, then became aware of a burning pain along his arm. He raised it to his face, mouth falling open in disbelief at the reddened patch of skin stretching from hand to elbow.

 Beneath The Dome

    Alisia busied herself stroking glossy black hair with a nervous hand on the bench beside Grevail. ¡°You¡¯re sure about this?¡± he asked, resisting the urge to scratch at the burn on his arm. He¡¯d worn his coat today to hide the injury, though it was warm. Luckily, the wound wasn¡¯t as bad as he had feared, but that it was there at all was enough to make his hair stand on end. He didn¡¯t want to think how it could have happened. He didn¡¯t want to think about that damn relic. Soon, he would exchange it for his friends, and he¡¯d never think about it again. If what Alisia said was true and Daryn helps free my friends, the first thing I¡¯ll do is throw it in the river. Even so, that hopeful thought shared the inside of his skull with the scratching itch. It was always pulling at him now.


    Alisia nodded and a smile arched her delicate lips that seemed as if she meant it to be reassuring, but it did not hide the uncertainty brewing in her murky blue eyes. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be here if I didn¡¯t think it was possible, would I? This is it, Green. All Daryn has to do is read this letter,¡± she said, patting the pouch at her waist where she¡¯d tucked the correspondence between Carbathe and Seirod.


    They sat in the white stone foyer of the Council House on a polished bench, awaiting an audience with the Khos. This entire scheme only made Grevail more nervous the further it went along. He didn¡¯t know anything about Khos Daryn or how he might react to Alisia¡¯s claims. They might both be thrown in the dungeon for wasting the man¡¯s time, but Alisia insisted Seirod, Vaik, Carbathe, and even Erphele would be jailed instead. If that happened, she said, Grevail¡¯s friends were good as free.


    A diminutive bald man in blue and white livery passed through the double doors nearby and fastened them with meticulous brown eyes, as if he were recording their every nuance down to the color of their clothes into memory. ¡°I apologize, young lady, but I have been unable to reach Khos Lesabre about your request for a private audience. However, the council will convene shortly anyway. You may ask him then or air your issues in public. Come with me. You may wait in the Council Chamber until they arrive.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Bavin,¡± Alisia said and rose from the bench, pulling Grevail up by the arm.


    ¡°No audience?¡± he asked. ¡°Surely you don¡¯t want this note read where everyone can hear¡ª¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± Alisia whispered, glancing at Bavin¡¯s back. ¡°We have indisputable proof now. He just needs to read it.¡±


    Bavin led them through corridors Grevail found quite lavish; paintings and murals garnished walls of fine stone, while accents of marble graced pillars and lintels. Servants crisscrossed the hallways, busily going about their duties, and two of them in blue and white dresses appeared in the hallway ahead, talking in excited tones. The women quieted as they came near, smiling and ducking their heads at Bavin.


    ¡°Spades?¡± one woman asked the other after passing Grevail and Alisia. ¡°Here at the Council House?¡±


    Bavin twisted to frown at them.


    The other woman giggled. ¡°Yes! They just arrived! I don¡¯t think they¡¯ve ever come to the Council House before! Someone said they had something to discuss with the Khos, but I have need of Didenudra like you would not believe, and there hasn¡¯t been any in the markets¡ª¡± whatever else she said was lost as the pair moved out of earshot.


    Bavin raised a curious eyebrow at their backs but did not stop heading deeper into the Council House, and eventually, Grevail and Alisia followed him into a wide hall at least a hundred paces across. The ceiling loomed three stories above and a grand staircase flanked by carved railing cascaded from a second floor. A desk covered in stacks of paper sat near a pair of large double doors at the other end of the room, but Bavin proceeded to an archway beneath the stairs, and inside a small, circular alcove there, opened a door.


    Down another hallway they arrived at yet another door, this one embossed with intricate geometric designs. Along the lintel read the words: Seek Justice All Who Enter. Bavin pushed the door open and they stepped into an impressive, round room of white marble. We must be in the bottom of the dome, Grevail realized. Steps descended from bench lined walls to a space at the bottom where several desks in a crescent formation surrounded a waist-high pillar as round as a man¡¯s thigh.


    ¡°Please, have a seat,¡± Bavin said, nodding toward the benches ringing the room.


    Two people were already here sitting together nearby; a bronzed man in a broad brimmed hat and a woman in a red dress. They watched Grevail and Alisia seat themselves, every footstep echoing under the dome. The ceiling arced above, perhaps another twenty paces from their heads.


    Grevail¡¯s eyes fell to the desks and the pillar they surrounded. Owls with round and bulbous eyes were carved into the faces of the squared white pillar, worn smooth by time, and there was a notch in the top as if something was supposed to be placed there. ¡°Is that the pillar of justice?¡± Grevail asked Alisia as they sat, remembering what Auphen told him.


    ¡°Yes. It is important that we touch it while speaking to the council.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°It is customary,¡± Alisia said as if it should be obvious. ¡°Any who touch the pillar while addressing the council on Grievance Days will receive just treatment without fear of reprisal.¡±


    They sat in silence, listening to the echoing murmur of conversation between the bronzed man and his wife until a middle-aged man entered. He was balding, just a ring of short red hair remaining around the crown of his head. Blue-green eyes swept across Grevail and Alisia before he descended the steps and took a seat at one of the desks. Birds stitched in silver thread along the sleeves of the man¡¯s red coat seemed fine enough to Grevail for a Khos.


    ¡°I¡¯m the first here?¡± he grumbled as he sat down.


    ¡°Is that him?¡± Grevail whispered. Alisia waggled her head.


    A short time later, a young man with flowing, shoulder-length brown hair entered. The white doublet and black trousers he wore did not look befitting of a Khos, though the confidence in his step did. Quick brown eyes took in the people seated around the room before he too descended and approached the pillar. He took a seat at the desk in the middle of the crescent, then motioned at the bronzed man and his wife. ¡°Bavin said you were here first. You may approach the pillar and speak.¡±


    The man and his wife stood and made their way down the steps. The man removed his hat, revealing a sun-burnt scalp, and stood beside the pillar with a hand atop it.


    ¡°Carbathe isn¡¯t here,¡± Grevail said to Alisia.


    She nodded. ¡°Luck that he isn¡¯t, but even if he were, he can¡¯t deny what is in this letter, marked with his own seal.¡±


    ¡°What is the issue?¡± Daryn asked the man and his wife.


    ¡°I live near the north wall, Khos, by the Berry Gate. My neighbor, Phenton Hexoilan, has torn down part of my fence and built a small hovel he claims is to be used for storage.¡±


    ¡°The dispute is that he has built on your property?¡± Daryn asked.


    ¡°Yes, and he destroyed my fence, Khos. I have proof! If that wasn¡¯t absurd enough, he has a cellar and it¡¯s not even close to full. I know it isn¡¯t! He could store plenty in there but he insists that I built the fence on his land.¡±


    ¡°Did you ask him to come here today?¡±


    The man nodded vigorously. ¡°I did! He said you would not give him a fair hearing, pillar or not. He has a purple rose hanging in the window of his house, if that means anything¡ª¡±


    The man¡¯s wife scowled. ¡°He said he would come if you apologized for calling him a toad-faced coward, but you refused!¡±


    The man¡¯s eyes bulged as he turned to her. ¡°Not now, Oira!¡±


    Daryn sighed. ¡°Do either of you have records?¡±


    ¡°No, Khos,¡± the man said. ¡°At least I don¡¯t. Phenton might, but he refused to talk to me about that. This house has been in my family since the civil war! I will not allow him to take what is rightfully mine and¡ª¡±


    The door slammed open, issuing a thundering echo under the dome. Carbathe stormed through¡ªlong purple cape wafting behind him.


    Daryn directed an angry scoff at him. ¡°You¡¯re late. The least you could do is not knock the door off the hinges.¡±


    A man stepped through the doorway behind Carbathe. His arms, hands, and indeed everything visible below his jawline was dark with tattoos¡ªswirling patterns and symbols Grevail didn¡¯t understand the meaning of. His head was shaved and a braided beard hung from his face. He wore a gambeson of gold and black and an axe dangled from his belt. This man was soon joined by another whose appearance and dress was the same¡­then another.


    ¡°Urucan¡­¡± Alisia¡¯s voice trembled.


    ¡°What is this?¡± Daryn surged to his feet.


    ¡°Carbathe!¡± The red headed man stood too, his face a thunderhead. ¡°I¡¯ll see you hang for this!¡±


    ¡°I tried to reason with you, Daryn.¡± Carbathe¡¯s lips turned in a smug grin. ¡°Please don¡¯t be a fool, Asimir,¡± he said to the red headed man. ¡°This can happen peacefully.¡±


    The Urucan soldiers marched down the steps toward Daryn with the sound of creaking leather and whispering steel. Yet more Urucan streamed in, though a short bald man, obviously unlike the Urucan, was among them. Teral, Grevail knew.


    ¡°Teral!¡± Daryn said, staring murder at the man.


    ¡°Traitor!¡± Asimir growled.


    The bronzed man and his wife spun beside the pillar, clutching each other and staring at the Urucan in a state of open-mouth shock.


    ¡°You may go,¡± Carbathe said, flicking his hand at the pair as he descended the stairs behind the Urucan.


    The woman ducked her head at the command and pulled her husband through the soldiers pouring into the room. The bronzed man¡¯s neck twisted first this way, then that, gawking in disbelief at the bearded Urucan.


    ¡°Alisia¡­¡± Grevail whispered and stood, pulling her up with him. He began moving after the man and his wife.


    ¡°Not you!¡± Carbathe boomed and thrust a finger at them. An Urucan stepped into Grevail¡¯s path, blocking the way with a bearded axe in his tattooed hands.


    Near the desks in the center of the room, another Urucan approached Daryn and moved to grab his arm.


    The Khos swatted away the soldier¡¯s hand and threw a whirling punch, striking the man in the mouth. The Toad stumbled backward with a curse, slapping a hand to his face. Before anyone else could react, Asimir dove at the nearest Urucan with a roar like a charging lion, swinging fists.


    Like a horde of ants swarming over their prey, the Urucan rushed to the nobles, surrounding them in a roiling ball and piling on until the two were subdued beneath a mass of bodies. Daryn was hauled to his feet first. ¡°You traitor!¡± he snarled at Carbathe through the hair streaming over his face. Blood ran down his chin from a split lip. ¡°And you!¡± he said, spitting at Teral¡¯s feet.


    For a moment, Teral¡¯s eyes widened in what could have been horror, but then a grim scowl hardened his face.


    ¡°Daryn,¡± Carbathe laughed, ¡°don¡¯t make this any worse for yourself.¡± He gestured at the Urucan. ¡°Chain them and take them to the wagons!¡±


    The soldiers clapped chains on Daryn and Asimir, delivering a punch or kick when they wouldn¡¯t cooperate.


    ¡°Now, for you,¡± Carbathe said, turning icy blue eyes on Alisia.


    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Alisia said with a sneer. ¡°You are a traitor! And I have the proof right here!¡± She ripped the note from her pouch and shook it in his face.


    Carbathe welcomed the accusation with a mocking grin. The man narrowed his eyes at Grevail for a moment, as if in recognition, but turned back to Alisia. ¡°You are too late, annoying little fly. You¡¯ve been buzzing around in many ears¡­whispering and conspiring. Perhaps it is time for me to finally swat you,¡± Carbathe said, fingering the hilt at his hip.


    Alisia met his eyes in show of defiance. ¡°You can kill me, but the Delphines won¡¯t be stopped. We¡¯ll oppose you, just as we always have. You are a vile traitor!¡±


    Carbathe considered her. ¡°I suppose it would be better to keep you alive. I know Aritane would hate to see any ill befall you, and he may well be a problem to deal with later.¡± Carbathe motioned at the pair of them. ¡°Take them as well. The girl and her friend.¡±


    An Urucan soldier stalked forward with a length of rope stretched between his hands. Alisia gave the man a growl in her throat as he bound her hands. When the soldier finished with her, he did the same for Grevail.


    In short order, the Urucan marched them all out of the Council Chambers. Daryn and Asimir in front while Alisia and Grevail followed after, side by side and surrounded by the tattooed, bearded invaders. Grevail shimmied his arms covertly, trying to loosen the rope enough to slip his hands out. I won¡¯t be held prisoner again¡ªnot while my friends need me. He remembered the relic was still in Alisia¡¯s house underneath his bed. If Carbathe knew who Alisia was, he might send men to search her house. Grevail fought a growing panic that threatened to take control of his body in a wild escape attempt. If he lost that cube, he lost his only chance of seeing his friends again.


    Amidst the din of Carbathe¡¯s self-congratulatory celebration, they exited from beneath the stairs and into the large hall. The stacks of paper on the desk Grevail saw earlier were now strewn across the floor all around it. Daryn became agitated at the sight and struggled against the Urucan clasping his arms. ¡°Bavin! What have you done with him! Teral, tell me!¡± One of the men hauling Daryn along paused to ram a fist into his ribs. The Khos doubled over with a gasp, but the Urucan did not halt and pulled him along sagging between them.


    The soldiers towed Daryn through the double doors beside the desk, which led outside to a large paved courtyard surrounded by more buildings of the Council House complex. Hundreds of Urucan soldiers milled about among dozens of wagons scattered around the square. A spade was emblazoned on the side of every wagon and tarps were laying on the ground beside them. Grevail recalled the servant women¡¯s words earlier about the Spades arriving at the Council House.


    He wiggled his wrists, loosening the rope even more until he thought he could get a hand out. It wasn¡¯t the first time he¡¯d been tied up. The Urucan who had done the tying hadn¡¯t done it very well, but now that Grevail was looking over the sheer number of Urucan in the square, it seemed the binding was more of a symbolic gesture. He eyed the crowd for a path of escape but saw hardly so much as a hair¡¯s width gap in the solid sea of Urucan packed around the Council House doors who turned to regard them.


    ¡°Daryn!¡± Carbathe crowed as he entered the square and the soldiers broke into a raucous cheer. Carbathe guffawed and drew his sword, raising it over his head as if he¡¯d just defeated Daryn in a duel. ¡°He surrendered with hardly a fight!¡±


    Daryn and Asimir glared daggers at the Urucan, but no more than Alisia did. A familiar face appeared among the jubilant Urucan crowd. Seirod wove his way through the soldiers toward Carbathe.


    ¡°We will see to any resistance in the city!¡± Carbathe exclaimed over the cheering Urucan, sheathing his blade.


    ¡°About our agreement,¡± Seirod said to Carbathe as he came to stand beside the man.


    Carbathe nodded with a roll of his eyes. ¡°I have important matters to attend, Seirod, but yes, of course¡­¡± he began as they moved away.


    Grevail and the others were led deeper into the crowd while Toads shouted curses and made obscene gestures at Daryn and Asimir. The throng parted to reveal a wagon, and the Urucan soldier leading them wasted no time grabbing Asimir by the elbow and ushering him toward it.


    Beside Grevail, Daryn watched it all with hard eyes, wrenching at the chains around his wrists. Grevail studied the square and the thick carpet of Urucan atop it. At one end, a walkway between two buildings drew his attention. It was suspended over a road he thought must lead to the highway in front of the Council House. He returned his gaze to the horses and the wagon, imagining how quickly it could reach the walkway. If all of these Urucan were not standing in front of it.


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    He twisted his hands a bit more, careful not to draw attention to himself, until the rope was ready to drop away. He tried to slow his breathing, but looking at the forest of tattooed men circling them, he wondered if this would be the last thing he would ever do. I won¡¯t be a prisoner any longer. Not one more day. If all those years slipping out of the watch¡¯s grasp ever gave him anything, he needed it now. ¡°I¡¯m going to try and escape,¡± he whispered at Daryn.


    Daryn frowned at the rope around Grevail¡¯s hands, then scanned the Urucan in the square. ¡°How do you plan to do that?¡± he whispered back.


    The Toad had finished shoving Asimir into the wagon and was making his way back toward them, gray eyes on Daryn. The man¡¯s axe hung loosely in a loop at his belt, swaying back and forth. ¡°Just be ready to drive that wagon out of here when you see the chance,¡± Grevail said before the man reached them.


    The Urucan grabbed Daryn and pulled him away. ¡°Come on, Eudan cretin! You¡¯ll get no special treatment, dear Khos. No, no. I think you¡¯ll cry and beg for your mother by the time we are done with you!¡±


    When Daryn was loaded into the wagon with Asimir, as Grevail hoped, the Toad came for Alisia next. While the Urucan hauled her away, the young woman exploded into a fury, throwing elbows and trying to bite him.


    ¡°These Eudan girls are feisty! Just how I like them!¡± the bearded man said. His comrades broke into wild laughter, egging the man on while Alisia squirmed in his arms. Eventually, the soldier grew bored of the game and pulled Alisia off her feet, tossing her into the wagon like a sack. Asimir broke her fall, sparing a dangerous glare for the Urucan, but the soldier was already spinning away, centering his gaze on Grevail. The man looked down his nose with an amused sneer as he came close, reaching for Grevail¡¯s arm.


    Grevail dropped the rope from his hands and ducked under the man¡¯s outstretched hand, snatching the axe from his belt.


    The Urucan whirled, grabbing at his waist. A look of rage contorted his face and he sprang forward with a snarl.


    Grevail backed away, swinging the axe in a wide arc to ward off the avalanche of bearded men that surged toward him. Urucan walled him in from all directions, axes and daggers springing into tattooed hands. The few Toads who had been standing in front of the wagon now crept forward, brandishing weapons of their own with excited grins as if at the thought of using them.


    Grevail slashed at an Urucan who got to close, then swiped at another¡ªnearly taking the man¡¯s hand off. Beyond the wall of soldiers, Daryn tumbled head first into the driver¡¯s seat of the wagon and snatched up the reins. The Urucan, unaware, closed in on Grevail.


    ¡°Take him alive, fools!¡± a voice boomed over the square. ¡°Take him alive or answer to Patalla.¡±


    The tattooed men lurched forward and Grevail spun in a circle, swinging the axe wildly, sometimes just a hair¡¯s breadth from a throat. A hand gripped the back of his coat before jerking away with a curse when the axe came whirling.


    The encroaching Urucan grew more bold, coming closer and closer each time the axe cleared the air in front of their faces. Grevail waited for an opportunity, almost too long, but when it appeared he took it. Throwing himself into a roll, he tumbled between the legs of a surprised Toad, then scrambled on all fours between another pair of Urucan boots. He cleared the ring of bearded invaders and sprang to his feet beside the wagon. With the blunt of the axe, he smacked the nearest horse on the rear as hard as he could with a shout. The mount screamed and bolted in a jangle of harness, Daryn already whipping the reins. The wagon thundered forward, scattering the few Urucan left before it.


    Grevail dropped the axe and jumped at the sideboard, latching on as the wagon bounced over the cobbles. Alisia and Asimir were quickly there, grabbing his arms and hauling him over the side.


    ¡°Slay my spirit!¡± Asimir cursed and turned from Grevail to kick a growling Urucan clinging to the wagon in the face. The man dropped from sight with a shout.


    Daryn whipped the reins and the wagon barreled through more surprised Urucan toward the north gate of the Council House. They raced below the suspended walkway, leaving the courtyard and most of the Urucan behind. Daryn pulled the horses onto a narrow, wagon-wide path that ran between a wall on one side and the Council House on the other.


    ¡°I thought we were dead for sure!¡± Asimir shouted to be heard over the roar of the wagon and the clatter of hooves.


    ¡°What now?¡± Alisia asked, lustrous hair streaming across her face.


    ¡°We can¡¯t stay in the city!¡± Asimir said. ¡°We must go to the north gate!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not out of it yet!¡± Daryn replied, pointing.


    A knot of Urucan stood in the street ahead where it met the highway in front of the Council House. Beyond them, the road roiled with townsfolk and soldiers alike; a confusing mass of motion and sound. Shock flashed across bearded Urucan faces at the wagon bearing down on them and they hurried to toss themselves out of way. One man wasn¡¯t quick enough and went beneath the horses with a scream that sent Grevail¡¯s hackles rising. He was left as a bloody pile in the road behind them as the wagon rattled onto the highway.


    The streets surrounding the Council House writhed with chaos and the air was thick with panicked cries. Parents clutching children emptied their homes into wagons, while others merely peeked from windows and doorways with open mouths at the scene unfolding in front of their homes. Some Tamirrans recognized Daryn and made desperate pleas for help, but the Khos only yelled for them to flee as they sped by.


    Ahead, a ball of soldiers wearing Carbathe¡¯s purple rose cleared a path through the throng with shouts and cudgels while being battered in return by the denouncements and projectiles of angry townspeople. The road was littered with debris around the purple and white clad men, but they pressed onward, occasionally lunging at a nearby assailant. Some townsfolk were supportive of the purple rose, however, and fights broke out in the crowd. Swirling masses of bodies came together, then dispersed just as quickly. Down one street, Grevail even glimpsed what he thought were bodies laying in the road.


    Daryn never slowed the wagon, forcing townspeople and Carbathe¡¯s men alike to scatter from its path, but when the north gate finally came into view, the Khos growled a curse. The portcullis was closed. The thick line of Urucan guarding it snarled as rocks thrown by riotous villagers cracked against round orange and black shields. Daryn yanked on the reins and the wagon veered onto an adjoining street.


    ¡°What are we going to do now?¡± Asimir asked.


    ¡°The Berry Gate!¡± Daryn said, struggling to control the horses with the fetters around his wrists.


    Remembering he still had the pick, Grevail dug into his coat pocket for it.


    ¡°They¡¯ll be guarding that too!¡± Asimir said.


    ¡°Do you have a better idea?¡± Daryn asked.


    Grevail crawled to the head of the speeding wagon, motioning at Daryn¡¯s chains with the pick.


    Daryn obliged, half-turning so that Grevail could shove the thin piece of metal into the hole on a clasp. It was a difficult thing to manage while bouncing along, but after working it around some, the spring dislodged and the clasp fell into the driver¡¯s seat with a clank.


    Daryn nodded his thanks when Grevail had done the other and jerked his head at Asimir. ¡°Him next!¡±


    Grevail returned to the bed and worked to free Asimir, and when he had, they both then untied the rope around Alisia¡¯s hands.


    The Berry Gate, located in the corner where the north and west wall met, appeared as they rounded a corner. A hysteric swarm of townspeople surrounded it, while a knot of Carbathe¡¯s men with the purple rose on their chests helped bar the way with several tattooed Urucan among them. Even this small force was enough to block the way as effectively as a wall of steel because the Berry Gate was so small¡ªenough for only one horseman to pass through at a time. The Urucan and Carbathe¡¯s men moved not a hair from their positions in the face of the furious rabble before them.


    ¡°Ash and embers!¡± Daryn said, pulling the reins and bringing them to a stop behind the scene around the Berry Gate.


    ¡°We can fight our way out,¡± Asimir said. The older man jumped from the wagon as if to charge the gate by himself.


    ¡°Not without a weapon you can¡¯t,¡± Daryn hopped down and rushed to grab hold of him.


    ¡°We¡¯ll find weapons,¡± Asimir growled and ripped his shoulder from Daryn¡¯s hand, scanning the area as if he might find just such a weapon laying nearby.


    ¡°Come with me,¡± Alisia said as she dismounted. ¡°You¡¯ll get yourself killed trying to force your way through the gate, but I can hide you. We can get you out.¡±


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Daryn asked, turning a searching look on her. ¡°What was that parchment you shook in Carbathe¡¯s face? You said you had proof¡ª¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have time for an explanation of that. It¡¯s too late anyway.¡± She met the Khos¡¯ gaze, her voice adopting a prideful tone. ¡°I¡¯m Alisia. I lead Delphine¡¯s Companions.¡±


    Daryn stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of you.¡±


    Alisia¡¯s eyes tightened, as if she were holding back a few choice words, but she only shook her head and fastened Asimir with a look that said he was being a fool. ¡°I can¡¯t stop you from throwing your life away, but we can¡¯t take back this city if we¡¯re all dead, can we? Follow me.¡± She turned and marched away.


    ¡°Well?¡± Asimir asked, blue-green eyes burning the Urucan at the gate to ash. ¡°Are you really going to follow this commoner girl, Daryn? We can fight our way out.¡±


    ¡°What other choice do we have?¡± Daryn asked. ¡°We can¡¯t fight all these Urucan, Asimir, even if we had weapons. We must go to Amphid,¡± Daryn moved to place himself between Asimir and the Urucan. ¡°She¡¯s right. We¡¯d need a hundred men to force our way through that gate.¡±


    ¡°Amphid?¡± Asimir shook his head. ¡°He might do worse to us than Carbathe will. Maybe I¡¯d rather die here now rather than when we reach Eudan.¡±


    The Khos¡¯ eyes glazed over at Asimir¡¯s premonition, as if he might be imagining his own death at Amphid¡¯s hands, but then blinked it away. ¡°Stop it, Asimir.¡±


    Alisia had stopped some distance away and now stood waiting impatiently. She spread her hands at them. ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°She can help you,¡± Grevail said to Daryn. ¡°Nobody knows more about Carbathe than the Delphines do. If anyone can get you out of here in one piece, it¡¯s Alisia.¡±


    The two nobles turned to him, and after a moment, Daryn nodded as if he¡¯d made a decision. He rolled hard eyes to the frantic townsfolk, then started after Alisia as if he had to force his feet to move. Asimir exchanged an unsure glance with Grevail before cursing and following too.


    Alisia led them from the Berry Gate through tumultuous streets where Tamirrans raced from homes with arms full of belongings, while others strapped sacks on the rump of a horse, unaware the Urucan had blocked the gates. Daryn looked more distraught the further they went, watching the scenes with unbelieving eyes.


    A shout rang out that carved through the hectic ambiance, pausing the frenzied crowd where they stood. ¡°They¡¯re coming!¡± A man skidded around a corner about a hundred paces away and broke into a run toward them. ¡°They¡¯re coming!¡± he screamed.


    On his heels, a tight formation of Urucan swathed in thick black gambesons with accents of orange rounded the bend. They hefted circular shields in one hand, overlapping the shield of the man next to them, and axes in the other. The Toads stared hard-eyed from beneath conical steel helmets with wide noseguards at the people fleeing before them.


    ¡°Do not fight!¡± bellowed a man at the rear of the Urucan ranks.  ¡°You will not be harmed if you do not fight!¡±


    Children were swept up by adults and out of the street. Wagons piled high with belongings jolted into motion, drivers whipping the reins.


    ¡°Get back in your homes!¡± the Toad at the rear of the formation shouted, waving an axe with a bone-white haft over his head.


    As if a command had been given, all around Grevail and the nobles, townsfolk poured from alleys and houses to form a line before the Urucan. They held rakes, spades, brooms, and other tools or household items, even a few with simple boards grasped in shaking hands. In front of this line of older men, young men had gathered, many mere boys, into their own line. The ragtag youth began hurling rocks at the Urucan as they approached, some even whirling slings over their heads. The stones thwacked into shields, a few off a helm in a ring of metal, but the Toads did not slow.


    ¡°Hold them back!¡± A man wearing a rusted old helmet said and jumped atop a nearby crate laying in the road. ¡°Make them pay! We must buy time for people to escape!¡± His eyes lit on Daryn and widened. ¡°Khos! Lord Daryn! What has happened? Where is the Fyrd?¡±


    ¡°The Fyrd isn¡¯t here,¡± Daryn said, watching the Urucan marching toward them, feet thrumming in unison.


    The helmeted man waved toward the Berry Gate. ¡°We have to help people escape! We need your help!¡±


    ¡°No! The gates are blocked!¡± Daryn snapped in a voice so rough it could have ground steel to dust. The Khos cupped his hands over his mouth to carry his voice. ¡°Leave now! Don¡¯t waste your lives! Listen!¡±


    Shock seemed to paralyze the helmeted man. He watched Daryn in disbelief, open mouth forming silent words before his face turned to disgust. ¡°You are running away? You?¡±


    ¡°Those Urucan will go through you like a wolf through a hen house. You won¡¯t stand a chance.¡± The helmeted man spluttered, taken aback, but fell silent as Daryn continued. ¡°They won¡¯t get away with this. The Prosperity Coalition and Amphid will come. Don¡¯t throw your lives away for nothing. Wait until we can attack in a fair fight!¡±


    The helmeted man turned to look at the Eudan men facing the Urucan. ¡°Well you can go, but I¡¯m staying here. I¡¯ll get as many of our people out as I can. Hold them back so people can escape!¡± he shouted to the thin line of townspeople, righting his rusted helmet.


    Daryn, fury reddening his face, shoved the smaller man from the crate and hopped atop it himself. ¡°The Urucan have blocked the gates! Do not fight! Do not throw your lives away!¡±


    The Eudan men turned toward Daryn as word spread through the line.


    ¡°Khos Daryn!¡±


    ¡°Daryn!¡±


    Daryn pointed at the Urucan marching toward them, now only fifty or so paces away. ¡°You can¡¯t fight them! Stay alive! Amphid will return and we will take back the city! We will need all of you then! Stay your hands!¡±


    Confusion gripped the Tamirrans as worried faces looked from Daryn to the Urucan. The helmeted man grabbed at Daryn¡¯s arm in an attempt to pull him from the crate. ¡°You coward!¡±


    Daryn ripped his arm from the man and fastened him with a murderous stare, voice shaking with anger. ¡°You will get all of these men killed, and for nothing! Wait until we can form a counterattack. We won¡¯t let them have our city! We will need all of these men then. Don¡¯t let them die needlessly, you fool!¡±


    The man remained silent, staring at the Urucan, who approached under an increasing hail of rocks thwacking against their shields.


    ¡°You can¡¯t fight that with garden tools and townsfolk!¡± Daryn spat. ¡°Don¡¯t do this!¡±


    The man in the helmet turned to look at the Eudan men. He nodded, as if finally seeming to understand, then looked up at Daryn in a new light. ¡°You¡¯re right, Khos. You¡¯re right.¡± He raised his voice. ¡°Listen to the Khos! Don¡¯t throw your lives away! We will retake the city! Wait for Amphid!¡±


    The Eudan men shared dumbfounded looks, and though some held their ground, many didn¡¯t need much more incentive and scampered from the approaching Urucan like startled deer bounding away from a predator.


    ¡°Wait for Amphid!¡± Daryn shouted, the helmeted man now echoing him.


    What remained of the line fell back and began to disperse. The onslaught of rocks went from a downpour to a drizzle, and the Urucan doubled pace as if their resolve had been renewed. The Tamirrans broke, scattering into nearby buildings and alleyways.


    The helmeted man had disappeared himself as Alisia came to pull the nobles away from the Urucan and onto another street. ¡°If you are done drawing attention to yourselves perhaps we can get to safety,¡± she said and wasted no time heading further into the city.


    Alisia guided them further into the city where Urucan and Carbathe¡¯s men alike prowled like wolves amongst the frantic Tamirrans. No matter which street they turned down, they were all the same, filled with distressed villagers and aggressive, patrolling knots of Urucan invaders.


    Judging from the direction Alisia was taking them, Grevail realized she couldn¡¯t be leading them to her house. ¡°Where are we going?¡± he asked as they ducked into an alley to avoid a mob of townspeople wearing purple roses.


    ¡°We can¡¯t go to my house,¡± Alisia said. ¡°Carbathe likely knows where I live.¡± A long sigh left her. ¡°I hope Usha is not there when they arrive.¡± Motioning for the others to follow, she set her jaw and quickened the pace. ¡°We must go to the hideout.¡±


    Hideout? Again, Grevail remembered the relic was still inside Alisia¡¯s house. Carbathe¡¯s soldiers could be searching the place at this very moment. The scratching itch inside his skull had not moved, and a compelling urge pulled him toward it. He didn¡¯t know where this hideout was, and even if he had the cube right now, he¡¯d still need the Delphines to free his friends. Would Alisia still be willing to help after what happened today? Were his friends still safe? Who knew what happened to them during all of this. Despite the pull of the Emberstone, he forced the buzz to the back of his mind and followed Alisia.


    There were far less people in the south of the city, which allowed them to move more quickly and freely instead of pausing or taking detours to avoid the distant forms of bearded Urucan invaders or even the chaotic masses of townsfolk. Soon, they had arrived before a two-story brick building that looked as if it had been abandoned for quite some time; the few windows facing the street were boarded over. Alisia knocked on the door.


    After a moment the door swung open to reveal Auphen, as if he were expecting them. Without a word, Alisia pushed past him though the door. The young man¡¯s eyes nearly fell out of his head at the sight of Daryn.


    Inside, a pair of huge, rounded millstones took up most of the main room. Poles arced outward from a large timber jammed in the center, where oxen or men would have struggled to turn the massive blocks.


    When Grevail commented on it, Alisia shrugged. ¡°The fellow who owned it wanted to sell and we wanted to have somewhere inconspicuous to go if something like this came.¡± Distant noises from the turmoil outside still pierced the thick brick walls. Alisia shook her head at them. ¡°We hoped we¡¯d never have to use it. Come on. We need to think up a plan.¡± She led them past the millstones toward a doorway where they found a darkened, dusty room filled with a handful of chairs at a table and a desk that sat in front of one tall, boarded up window.


    Alisia sat at the table and motioned for the rest of them to do the same. ¡°Please, sit.¡±


    Grevail remained standing by the door, but when the nobles had seated themselves, Alisia shot him a knowing look. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Grevail.¡±


    ¡°You couldn¡¯t have known this would happen,¡± he said, yet still, the scratching slither of the cube pulled at him, reminding him of where it was, undefended. With the chaos outside, anyone could simply walk into Alisia¡¯s house and grab it, perhaps even Carbathe¡¯s men. As if that weren¡¯t bad enough, what was happening to his friends during all of this? Seirod and Erphele had guards to defend them, but what about Raela?


    Auphen scrubbed at his reddish brown hair. ¡°A whole lot of Carbathe¡¯s men came to the Lucky Harvest. We fought them off for a while, but they lit the place on fire, Alisia, with us inside. The blue and white in the windows and the rumor that Parxo had supported Daryn was enough reason for them, apparently. We barely escaped out a back window.¡± He scowled at the ground, but when he raised his eyes back to Alisia, they were steady and determined. ¡°Have you seen Aritane?¡±


    Alisia shook her head. ¡°He should pop up. If anybody comes out of this without a scratch, it would be him.¡±


    Daryn¡¯s face was a crumpled, angry mess, and he occasionally glanced at the door beside Grevail as if thinking of storming through it. ¡°You said you could help us escape.¡±


    Alisia considered her words before speaking. ¡°I can, but only with more of my Delphines. Hopefully they¡¯ll find their way to us soon enough, but it won¡¯t be long until I can round some up. Some of them may have fled before the Urucan shut the gates, but enough have no doubt stayed put. This is exactly what we knew was coming.¡± She reached into her pocket and produced the note Grevail found at Seirod¡¯s, passing it to Daryn. ¡°Unfortunately, we were a step behind.¡±


    Daryn read the note aloud while Asimir crowded at his shoulder. ¡°Where did you find this?¡± Daryn asked when he finished.


    Alisia inclined her head at Grevail. ¡°He found it in Seirod¡¯s house.¡±


    Daryn swung a questioning gaze to Grevail, then squeezed his eyes shut, crumpling the note in his hand. ¡°Carbathe I knew¡­but Teral¡­¡± he said the name as if it were a curse, then stuffed the note into his pocket. ¡°We need to be on our way to the capital immediately. Amphid must know all we do about what happened here.¡±


    ¡°What happened at the Council House?¡± Auphen asked Alisia, motioning at the nobles.


    Asimir ignored Auphen as if he hadn¡¯t spoken. ¡°Our best bet is the Berry Gate. They¡¯ll let their guard down eventually.¡±


    Alisia¡¯s lustrous black hair swayed as she waggled her head. ¡°The Berry Gate? It¡¯s too small. One or two of those Toads could block the way against a few hundred men. The wall will likely be crawling with Urucan too,¡± she reasoned. ¡°I have a plan, and with our help, we will get you out.¡±


    ¡°Why should we listen to you?¡± Asimir grunted, meeting Alisia¡¯s eyes. ¡°I appreciate your help so far, but I don¡¯t intend to hide in this hovel.¡± Asimir turned a dark gaze on the building around them that then eventually settled on Daryn. ¡°We should have fought our way out with the townspeople. We could have overwhelmed them! We¡¯d be well on our way to Eudan by now.¡±


    ¡°You would have drawn every Toad in town to that gate,¡± Alisia said. ¡°If not Carbathe himself. Now, if you want to get out of here, just give me the time to find Aritane¡ª¡±


    Daryn broke in. ¡°Aritane? How long will that take? We must be on our way as¡ª¡±


    Grevail slipped out of the door and into the mill room, the voices of Alisia and the nobles fading as he neared the exit. The cube buzzed against his skull, drawing him toward it. It wasn¡¯t the time to ask Alisia about his friends now. Will she still help? He couldn¡¯t be certain about much of anything after today but one thing. If he didn¡¯t have that Emberstone, there wouldn¡¯t be much chance of seeing his friends again at all. Ash at dawn, let them be alright.

 To Ash

    Grevail hurried into the street. There were still townfolk among roads strewn with belongings left behind by those who fled, or attempted to, though many likely didn¡¯t make it out after the Urucan blocked the gates. The disemboweled innards of homes: chests, crates, clothes and furniture, cluttered the roads Grevail slunk through. He went quickly as he dared, running when the street was clear, and darting out of sight when it wasn¡¯t. Urucan and Carbathe¡¯s men patrolled the city, and they did so with a look of purpose, as if searching for something. A chill ran down his spine. Were they after Daryn or something else? That Carbathe might want the stone too was enough to pimple his skin.


    Ducking into hiding at the presence of every suspicious person or every noise meant it took much longer than he thought it would to reach Alisia¡¯s street, but when he did, it was thankfully clear of Urucan and most anyone else. The two or three story homes here, crowded shoulder to shoulder, were silent and still, and some sat with front doors open, creaking in the breeze, as if the inhabitants had left in a hurry. He watched the road for some time to build his courage, fearing that a cadre of Carbathe¡¯s men would round the corner the moment he stuck a toe out, but eventually, took a deep breath and forced himself into the open.


    Creeping down the cobbles he came to the gate of Alisia¡¯s house. The windows overlooking the courtyard were empty, but that didn¡¯t stop him from imagining a bearded Urucan watching him from one. Beside commotion echoing from the direction of the Berry Gate, only his own quick breathing was in his ears. Slowly, he turned the handle of the gate, then pushed it open, cringing at the metallic squeal it peeled into the air. He paused, listening again for any movement beyond the courtyard wall.


    Relieved that at least the courtyard must be empty, he squeezed inside to crouch on the paving stones. It looked just as it did the last time he saw it, and nothing stood out to him as suspicious. He scampered past the benches and green walls shrouded in vines to the front door. He reached toward the knob, but stopped as his hand neared. It was already open, if just by a hair. Was Usha still here? He pushed and the door floated inward. Not a sound came from inside. Carbathe¡¯s soldiers were not here. Or have they already been here? he thought, staring at the open doorway.


    He surged inside and clambered up the staircase beside the entrance. Reaching the top, he burst into his bedroom and dove at the bed, feeling under it. For a brief few panicked moments, his hand found only smooth floorboards, but then finally, gripped the familiar metallic cube.


    Can you hear me? Only I can show you how to use this, Tameling.


    He dropped the relic and scrabbled backward away from it. That was Vidian¡¯s voice inside of his head, as clear and real as if it was his own thought. He stared at the cube still under the bed. Behind the odd slanted triangle on the little glass circle at the center, blue light danced faintly inside like a dying flame. Hello?


    A woman¡¯s distant scream drifted through the open window, pulling him back to where he was. Hesitantly, he crawled toward the Emberstone and reached out to grab it, closing his eyes and biting his lip as he did. When his fingers made contact, and Vidian¡¯s voice did not pop into his head, a breath he didn¡¯t realize he¡¯d been holding left him. This cursed thing, he thought, looking at it in his hand.


    Standing, he dashed from the room and took the stairs down two at a time. Reaching the courtyard, he started toward the gate, but after a moment¡¯s thought, turned to shut the door tight. It would be little deterrent to the looters he¡¯d seen ransacking homes on the way here, but hopefully it would be enough they might leave Alisia¡¯s house untouched. The squealing of the gate behind him raised the hair on his neck. Grevail spun around to find that a man with a purple rose on the chest of his white tunic had stepped into the courtyard with him. Another four crowded in behind, and they all eyed Grevail with expressions of suspicion and surprise.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± the stocky man with a scruffy blond beard asked.


    Grevail froze with his mouth open, staring back at him.


    Narrowing his gray eyes at Grevail¡¯s silence, the lead man stepped further into the courtyard. ¡°Where is Alisia? Are you a Delphine?¡± His gaze fell to Grevail¡¯s hand and he frowned, brow furrowing.


    Grevail remembered that like a fool, he still held the cube. He looked down at it, surprised to notice that it was warm, and seemed to be growing warmer by the moment. That realization, and the alarm it instilled in him, came and went in almost the same instant before he forced himself to focus on Carbathe¡¯s henchmen before him. I can run through Alisia¡¯s house to the back garden. If he made it up and over the wall there, he might escape with his skin.


    The man rolled his eyes, as if tiring of Grevail¡¯s hesitation. ¡°This house is now the property of Khos Carbathe. Whoever you may be, looter or Delphine, hand over whatever you¡¯ve got and we will forget you were here. We have enough rabble to deal with and¡ª¡±


    Between the man and Grevail, a small yellow flame flared into being, hovering in the air at head height. They both stared at it in disbelief, and the other soldiers stood dumbfounded with mouths agape as this tiny, floating lick of fire, no bigger than that of a candle, began to rapidly grow in size, building in intensity. With a bright flash, a huge bar of flame as round as a barrel shot upward from that suspended pinprick, higher than Alisia¡¯s house, higher than probably most everything in town.


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    Carbathe¡¯s men issued terrified gasps and threw hands over their faces as they were enveloped in an crimson glow. The raging tongue of red fire blazed into the sky with a deafening roar for several moments, then vanished in the sound of guttering flames, leaving nothing else to say it had been there beside a thick gray line of vertical smoke that began to bend and drift with the breeze.


    Carbathe¡¯s men stared at him wide-eyed in pure terror, though the look on Grevail¡¯s own face was surely no different. One man loosed a hysterical shriek, dashing toward the gate, and in a matter of moments, all of them were stumbling over each other toward the exit, casting worried looks back at Grevail as they did. ¡°Paragons protect me!¡± one of them shouted as they fled down the street, feet slapping the cobbles.


    The cube was no longer warm in his hand. He shivered as an overwhelming urge came over him to toss it as far as he could and run the other way. It is the key to saving my friends, he reminded himself, though still felt as if he held a poisonous snake that might bite him at any time.


    He took a step toward the open gate, but as he did, a section of vine on the courtyard wall swept to the ground, heaving a dark cloud of particulate into the air. He froze, staring at the pile of dust that had been created. He raised his eyes to study the rest of the vines that still clung to the stone. They were a stark black instead of the healthy green they¡¯d been when he arrived. He reached and poked at a nearby leaf, which crumbled away like ash at his touch. It had all been burnt to a crisp. He didn¡¯t remember feeling any heat from that fire, at least he thought, not enough to do this. There were no burn marks on the walls, or on the ground, nor did anything else in the courtyard appear damaged. He looked down at the relic again, licking his lips.


    I don¡¯t have time for this. Those men could come back, or some other threat might appear, and he didn¡¯t want to be standing here with this¡­thing when they did. He shoved it into his pocket and hurried into the street. There was no sign of Carbathe¡¯s men, and he wasted no time returning to Alisia¡¯s hideout much the same way as he had went to her house¡ªby staying out of sight however he could. The few times he spotted any of Carbathe¡¯s men or the Urucan, they were far away, but still, he crept through the city as quietly as a mouse in a den of snakes.


    By the time he was walking toward the door of the mill, dusk was chasing the light toward the horizon. A moment after knocking, the door cracked open. One of Alisia¡¯s dark blue eyes appeared in the slit, widening at the sight of him. She flung the door wide and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, yanking him inside.


    ¡°Where did you go?¡± she asked after she had shut the door and turned, shaking a finger under his nose. ¡°You had us worried to death. I thought you had went after your friends¡­or¡­or something even more stupid!¡±


    ¡°I had to get the relic,¡± he said. ¡°I need it to get my friends back.¡±


    The young woman stared at him as if she had not considered that. ¡°I suppose if anything is worth the risk, it would be that,¡± she said after a moment, and reached to put a hand on his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m glad you are safe. We will need your help if we are to get the Khos out, and of course you can¡¯t save your friends dead, but please¡­at least tell me before you do something so stupid again. Carbathe¡¯s men will be sure to search my house. Did you see Usha there?¡±


    ¡°She was not there.¡± He was glad Usha was not there, though felt a touch of shame at the thought. What would Usha have made of that fiery column in the courtyard? If Alisia knew, would she reconsider helping him? It was for that reason he rejected the idea of telling her he encountered Carbathe¡¯s men at her home. He just wanted to be free of this ashen stone. He wanted to be free of Vidian, and he wanted Raela, Dell and Tessyn back. ¡°What about my friends?¡± he asked, surprised by the sudden emotion that cracked his voice.


    Alisia¡¯s eyes turned serious. ¡°I must help Daryn escape the city. Amphid will need them if he is to take Tamirra back. Grevail, helping your friends is important too, but if we don¡¯t¡ª¡±


    ¡°You promised,¡± Grevail said around his tightening throat. ¡°You said that if I went to the Council House you would help my friends. I did as you asked. Who knows what has happened to them during all of this!¡± Wetness stung his eyes, but he refused to look away from her. They¡¯re alive. If Seirod, Vaik and Erphele wanted this relic, his friends would be alive.


    ¡°I will help you after the Khos has escaped the city,¡± Alisia said, then swallowed, as if she found words distasteful. ¡°One last thing, Grevail, and we will help your friends. I know I¡¯ve already promised this to you, but circumstances have changed. Daryn must reach Amphid.¡±


    Since he came to be with the Delphines, he¡¯d thought up a million plans to free his friends by himself and for one reason or another discarded them all. He could not do it by himself. He closed his mouth around the harsh words on the tip of his tongue. He would give her one last chance to fulfill her promise, and if she still refused to help, he would try to free his friends on his own any way he could. He had no other choice.


    A tired sigh heaved Alisia¡¯s chest, as if sensing his mood. ¡°Come. I¡¯ll show you to your room. We wanted to keep this place a secret, so we didn¡¯t use it often, but at times we did. There are at least enough beds so we don¡¯t have to sleep on the floor.¡±


    Without waiting for a reply, she walked into a nearby hallway lined with doors and Grevail followed after her. The first thing he had to do was to hide the relic and get it as far away from himself as possible, though even that wouldn¡¯t protect him from Vidian. After the day¡¯s events, he was tired enough to sleep on a slab of stone like he had in the Refuge, but he didn¡¯t want to so much as close his eyes long enough to blink around the Emberstone. It is what will save my friends. He tailed Alisia down the hallway, ignoring the relic rubbing against his leg, just as he tried to forget what had happened in the courtyard. When he exchanged the stone for his friends, he¡¯d never have to think about it again.

 The Sifters Smile

    Tessyn sat in the Council House with her legs slung over the arm of a well-padded, comfy chair. It was the last place she ever expected to find herself. When the chaos in Tamirra began, Erphele assumed Carbathe¡¯s riot would be quelled soon, but of course that never happened. Erphele sat nearby, smoothing her white dress. The garment must be worth a few hundred ess, and the blue opal jewelry around her neck at least as much.


    Carbathe¡¯s men arrived at Erphele¡¯s mansion not long after the city was taken and demanded she come with them. Tessyn thought Erphele would refuse, but surprisingly, the woman agreed, if only to maintain her dignity. ¡®I will not be tied hand and foot to be dragged from my home like a criminal¡¯, is what she said. At first, Tessyn thought this Carbathe fellow meant to throw Erphele in the dungeon for some crime or perceived slight, but instead, he¡¯d put her in private quarters and visited her every few hours it seemed. The man was clearly infatuated, and while strange, it at least meant there was little for Tessyn to worry about so long as he was. Even so, none of them had been allowed to leave.


    Articia sat beside Erphele, glowering at anything that dared enter her sight. Apparently, Grevail promised the pair he would steal the relic if they got him inside Seirod¡¯s house. Grevail, Grevail, Grevail, Tessyn mused. He meant well, but was always at the mercy of his dreams, and she was often all too willing to join him. Yet he did try to save them, even if he nearly killed everyone in the process.


    Adellus and Raela were another matter. Tessyn knew Raela was with that big man, Noz, and his companion. She shuddered; just thinking about that fellow was enough to send her skin crawling. Her stomach felt turned inside out whenever she imagined what Raela might be experiencing in the captivity of those two. Articia let it slip that the Sifters found Vaik¡¯s hideout near the south gate. I have to get out of here and find her.


    Beyond the sitting room doors, Tessyn saw the Urucan, Patalla. Carbathe treated him as an equal, even deferring to him at times, so she assumed he must be some kind of powerful noble, though she knew little about that kind of thing. She¡¯d heard stories about the Urucan since she were a child, as had every Eudan sprout, and they lived up to the tales, at least in appearance¡ªhairy, brutish, and covered in tattoos. He was as much an Esh to her as he was a man.


    Ophin and Kaeno were here, too. Erphele did not want to leave without her servants, and Ophin begged to be brought along as if he might shrivel up and die otherwise. Grix and Iphik sat at a table beneath a window in the corner, playing the board game, Culi. Iphik had mostly won so far and Grix frowned at the pieces as if frustrated. She shook her head at the pair.


    Grix had come to her while she was being kept at Erphele¡¯s, and to her surprise, offered what seemed a genuine apology. If it weren¡¯t for his contract with Erphele, he would let her go, he claimed. Her first instinct was that the tall Sifter was after something else, but she was not the type to fall for a man, or to be used by one. She never let them get too close. They all only wanted one thing from a Lowtown mudrat girl.


    To make it up to her, Grix taught her how to defend against someone who grabbed her like he did that night at Seirod¡¯s mansion. Control the wrist and spin away. Sweep the legs or strike for the face. He even let her practice on him, until Articia found them and scolded Grix as if he were a boy.


    She watched him analyzing the board between himself and Iphik. He was quite handsome, even if he rarely had a look on his face other than that hard stare. His eyes lifted from the game, locking on hers, and then as if to spite her, a smile bloomed on his lips. A pretty sight when he does, though.


    Grix insisted that Erphele let him take off Tessyn¡¯s chains and he would be the one to keep an eye on her, so she forgave him for imprisoning her in the first place. He accompanied her for walks in Erphele¡¯s garden and even shared some wine from Erphele¡¯s cellar after he convinced Ophin that Erphele wouldn¡¯t mind. It wouldn¡¯t be easy, but she estimated it would be just a handful of days and he would be opening the door for her as she walked out of here¡ªunless Articia caught on. The old hag already eyed the Sifter with unbridled suspicion whenever they were in the same room together.


    Motion at the doorway brought Tessyn¡¯s attention to Carbathe striding toward them. A black cape snaked behind him¡ªhis torso protected by a shining, ornate breastplate. The sword at his hip moved in rhythm with every step of his black leather boots. He¡¯d taken to wearing Urucan colors, orange and black. The gambeson and leggings today were no different.


    Tessyn didn¡¯t understand what the man¡¯s plan was. Surely, Amphid would come and take the town back. From the little she¡¯d seen of Carbathe, which was usually when he came to unsuccessfully woo Erphele as he seemed about to do now, he appeared a total buffoon.


    Carbathe entered and surveyed the room with pale blue eyes that were all the more cold under snow white hair. Everyone continued what they were doing, but watched him from the edge of their vision, as if he were an overbearing father chaperoning his children.


    ¡°Raina,¡± Carbathe said and the room paused at his booming voice. He motioned at Grix and Iphik. ¡°What need do you have of these Sifters?¡±


    Erphele expressed surprise at the question. ¡°They are my friends.¡±


    Iphik directed a frown at Carbathe, but when the man turned his way, the look transformed into a feigned smile. Carbathe¡¯s gaze drifted lazily back to Erphele. ¡°Your friends? I have known you for quite some time, and I do not remember Sifters in your company before now.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well¡ª¡±


    ¡°And who is this?¡± Carbathe asked, inquisitive eyes fastening on Articia.


    For the first time Tessyn had seen, Articia looked worried. The old woman displaced her usual glower with a meek pout that was as natural on her face as it would have been on a wolf. ¡°I have known Erphele for many years, Khos Carbathe,¡± she said. ¡°I am an old friend of the family.¡±


    Carbathe rationed his worsening glower around the room. ¡°I ask, Raina, since it seems you spend all day in here accompanied by an over-sized entourage, yet there are many things I have for you to do if you cared to do them.¡±


    Tessyn stopped a scoff before it left her lips. He was such a pompous fool. Tessyn understood why Erphele had no interest in him. I might feel sympathy for the woman if the irony of her being held captive the same as she did to me wasn¡¯t so delightful.


    Carbathe¡¯s gaze swept to Tessyn. He fingered his chin and studied her. ¡°Who is this?¡± he asked Erphele.


    ¡°She is my servant,¡± Erphele said, cautious gaze wandering to Tessyn.


    Carbathe frowned. ¡°Raina, my dear, you have no need of that now. I have a dozen servants ready to wait on your every need. The very best Tamirra has to offer.¡± Carbathe narrowed his eyes when Tessyn directed a glare at Erphele. ¡°She is not fit for a lady of your status.¡±


    ¡°She is very important to us,¡± Articia added quickly.


    Tessyn turned her glare on the old woman. Old bag of bones. She had enough of that hag and her questions. ¡°You¡¯re right¡­ah¡­Khos Carbathe. I miss my family¡­and¡­I¡¯d¡­I¡¯d like to visit them,¡± Tessyn said.


    Carbathe regarded her with a flat-eyed stare for a moment before he shrugged and gestured at Ophin. ¡°You may keep your other servants, Raina, at least they seem capable, but this girl has no place here, especially when she does not want to be here in the first place. Not worthy of you at all, my dear.¡± Carbathe turned toward the door. ¡°Mesimere! Escort this young woman from the Council House.¡±


    A young man, head swaying with blond curls and wearing a tunic emblazoned with Carbathe¡¯s purple rose appeared in the doorway, already striding toward Tessyn.


    ¡°But¡ª¡± Erphele began.


    ¡°Enough, Raina. For too long I have asked you to see things as I do, yet you have refused. Now, you will do what I say.¡±


    Tessyn struggled to control her elation. She felt like giggling, or sticking her tongue out at Articia. She¡¯d thought of endless schemes to escape and then Carbathe set her free in a handful of words.  ¡°Thank you,¡± she said to Carbathe.


    Carbathe looked down his nose at her, running a cold eye filled with disgust over her legs slung across the chair arm. ¡°Not even a curtsy, as would be proper. I should have you flogged.¡± He swept back his cape in a lordly flourish and returned his attention to Erphele.


    Grix shot up from his seat, chair screeching on the floor and drawing every eye. ¡°I will escort her,¡± he began, then paused and finished with, ¡°Khos Carbathe.¡±


    Carbathe raised an eyebrow at Grix, pursing his lips, then spread his hands with a touch of exasperation. ¡°Very well, Sifter. Seren herself could appear and show her out for all it matters to me.¡±


    ¡°I will have my most well trained servants brought¡­¡± Carbathe said to Erphele, but Tessyn didn¡¯t care to hear the rest.


    Grix crossed the room and offered her his hand. She rewarded him with a smile and they retreated under Carbathe¡¯s domineering gaze toward the door. Tessyn glanced over her shoulder to see Articia staring vexedly at their backs.


    ¡°Why did you do that?¡± she whispered at Grix as they left the room.


    ¡°I wanted to warn you,¡± he said.


    ¡°About what?¡±


    ¡°The city is quite dangerous, there are drunken soldiers roaming the streets and I¡ª¡±


    Tessyn scoffed. ¡°I can take care of myself. I¡¯m from Lowtown if you don¡¯t remember.¡± A few drunk men were not something she ever needed to hide from. Quick feet, quick wit, and a winning smile had gotten her out of more trouble than muscles ever had for any man.


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    ¡°Of course you can,¡± he said without a hint of sarcasm, ¡°but you will allow me to escort you to the gates at the very least.¡±


    ¡°Why do you care what happens to me? I was your prisoner after all. What about your contract with Erphele?¡±


    They meandered down a long hallway that ended in the entrance doors of the Council House. Grix looked down at her with a frown. ¡°I¡¯ve already told you that just because I have a contract does not mean I like what I¡¯m ordered to do.¡±


    ¡°What didn¡¯t you like about your orders?¡± Tessyn asked.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t like keeping you in chains,¡± he said, ¡°if that is what you¡¯re after. I thought Erphele would question you for a few days before releasing you. That night at Seirod¡¯s when you asked me to let you go, I realized¡­¡± he stopped and cleared his throat.


    ¡°You realized what?¡±


    ¡°That I¡¯d made a mistake,¡± he finished. He pushed open the fancy double doors of the Council House and they passed between a knot of Urucan guards who watched them with suspicious eyes around the nose-guards of gleaming helmets.


    A thought occurred to Tessyn as they stepped into the street. Is he trying to trick me? She jabbed a finger at him. ¡°If you think you can follow me to see where I go and come back to capture me for a third time, you¡¯re mad.¡± She turned north on the highway. Far down the road in the distance sat the Eudan Gate. The only other time she¡¯d seen it was peeking through the window in Erphele¡¯s carriage the night after the fire at Seirod¡¯s mansion. When Arxaro had brought them into Tamirra, Raela, Dell and herself had been bound and gagged beneath a tarp in the back of a wagon. Even from here, Tessyn could see the portcullis was down, and before it, the indistinct moving forms of what were surely more Urucan. It would be hard to find Grevail, if he was even still in the city, but at least she knew Raela and Dell¡¯s last whereabouts.


    Grix followed behind her. ¡°That is not my intention,¡± he muttered.


    So, we¡¯re back to cold eyes instead of pretty smiles, are we? ¡°Well, why are you still here? I can take care of myself, as we¡¯ve already established.¡±


    ¡°I just want to make sure you leave the city safely.¡±


    ¡°Who said I want to leave the city?¡±


    Grix turned unbelieving eyes on her. ¡°You mean to stay here? And you think I¡¯m mad? Why?¡±


    ¡°Since when have you cared about my well-being, Sifter?¡± She turned off the highway and away from the Eudan Gate, walking deeper into the city.


    Grix tailed her, emitting a long, worried breath. ¡°Tessyn, please tell me you won¡¯t stay here.¡±


    Goosebumps raced across her skin. Although the weather seemed warm enough, it must have been a rogue, chilly breeze. All that time in captivity had made her soft. It wasn¡¯t because she liked the way her name sounded on his lips, that was for sure. Not him. A Sifter who had kidnapped her and her friends. ¡°I won¡¯t promise you anything.¡±


    About a dozen paces ahead, two hooded figures stepped from the mouth of an alleyway and into the road. Tessyn jerked to a stop.


    ¡°Tessyn,¡± one of them said, a man¡¯s voice. His face was covered with cloth so that only his amber-brown eyes were visible.


    Grix dashed to stand between Tessyn and the strangers, a hand on his sword hilt. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°Easy, Sifter,¡± the other man said, putting his own hand to a dagger at his waist. ¡°We¡¯ve been looking for her.¡±


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Tessyn repeated, watching them over Grix¡¯ shoulder.


    ¡°Grevail sent us.¡±


    Tessyn¡¯s jaw dropped. She tried to push Grix out of the way but he refused to budge. ¡°Grevail sent you? Where is he?¡± The last Tessyn saw of Grevail was when he appeared from the inferno of the storeroom that night at Seirod¡¯s house, and from the little information she managed to garner from Grix and the conversations she overheard between Articia and Erphele, she knew he escaped.


    ¡°Come with us and we¡¯ll take you to him. We can¡¯t say any more here with¡­¡± the man fell silent with a nod at Grix, who still clutched at his sword as if ready to draw.


    Tessyn jabbed a knuckle into the Sifter¡¯s back. ¡°Get out of the way.¡±


    ¡°How can you be sure they are to be trusted?¡± Grix asked over his shoulder.


    ¡°Who else would know who I am?¡±


    ¡°Seirod?¡±


    Tessyn bit her lip. She hadn¡¯t thought of that.


    The first man glanced at his companion, as if unsure of what to say next, then spared a wary glance around the empty street. ¡°If you¡¯d like to come with us, we¡¯ll take you to him, otherwise, we¡¯ll tell him you refused.¡± He nudged his companion and they disappeared into the alley.


    ¡°I¡¯m going with them,¡± Tessyn said. ¡°They wouldn¡¯t just leave if Seirod sent them.¡±


    ¡°They would if I was here protecting you.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t need your protection!¡± she spat and danced around him, marching after the cloaked men.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Tessyn.¡±


    There was something in his voice that made her turn around; a sadness she didn¡¯t think someone like Grix were capable of.


    ¡°¡­about your friends. I¡¯ve never regretted capturing a mark, until you. I¡¯m sorry, and I hope you find them.¡± He paused, as if he wanted to say something more, but then shook his head and spun on his heel, walking away.


    Staring after him, she opened her mouth, then scoffed and snapped it closed. You¡¯ve got a head full of ash, Tessyn. Nobody wants a mudrat but another mudrat. She too spun on her heel, entering the alley to find the cloaked figures standing just inside.


    ¡°Are you ready?¡± said one of the men, removing the hood and cloth from his head. He was young, with reddish-brown hair and light brown eyes that scanned the mouth of the alleyway as if expecting the Sifter to reappear. ¡°I¡¯m Auphen.¡±


    The other man had also removed his disguise and regarded Tessyn with dark eyes, inclining his head. ¡°Aritane.¡±


    A sudden surge of doubt struck her. What has Grevail gotten himself involved with? Why isn¡¯t he here? She repressed the thoughts, though with some trouble. If these people know anything about Grevail¡¯s whereabouts, it is worth the risk. ¡°Lead the way.¡±


    The man who named himself Auphen bobbed an eager nod and headed south down the alley. Tessyn followed after him and the other one, Aritane, took up the rear. ¡°Who are you?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Grevail can tell you everything,¡± Auphen said without turning around. ¡°First, we need to get you there without catching a Toad axe in the back.¡±


    Tessyn took the cue to remain silent and tried her best to keep her suspicions about the pair subdued as they led her further into the city. They skirted main roads as much as possible, peeking out of alleys to scout if the way was clear before proceeding. Once, when a knot of Carbathe¡¯s men turned a corner in the distance and marched in their direction, the pair of cloaked men picked her up by the arms, hustling her out of sight onto the nearest side street.


    ¡°You are no friends of the Urucan?¡± she asked when they stopped manhandling her.


    Auphen¡¯s amber eyes tightened. ¡°Of course not. Are you?¡±


    Tessyn harrumphed. ¡°Nobody would have ever caught me kissing Amphid¡¯s rings, but I don¡¯t like what happened here,¡± she said with a glance at the empty streets and vacant houses. She imagined how she would feel if the Urucan marched into Lowtown, but then had to remember it was Amphid himself who wanted to do that.


    Auphen shook his head. ¡°At least northerners won¡¯t laugh at us when we talk about the Urucan from now on.¡±


    Much less Urucan were present in the south of town than elsewhere, and the few times Tessyn saw any townsfolk, they scuttled along like an insect, shoulders hunched and head twisting to look every way at once. Many buildings had been looted, and even some others had been burned to the ground with nothing more remaining than blackened husks where a business or home once stood. The Sifters escorted her through the silent city without incident until Auphen strode to the door of a big brick building at an intersection that at first glance appeared abandoned, the few windows facing the street boarded up.


    Auphen knocked, and when it opened a short moment later, a young woman stood in the entrance, her deep blue eyes widening at the sight of Tessyn. She waved them inside hurriedly, and once they were out of the street, slammed the door shut as if the Urucan were on their heels.


    After sliding the bolt closed, the woman tossed lustrous black hair over a shoulder and gestured at Tessyn while narrowing her eyes at Auphen. ¡°Who is this? It¡¯s hardly the time to be bringing in new recruits, Auphen! If they find out where we are¡ª¡±


    ¡°This is Grevail¡¯s friend,¡± Aritane said. ¡°Tessyn.¡±


    Alisia¡¯s mouth dropped open and she swung back, studying Tessyn. ¡°He will be happy to see you.¡±


    Tessyn cast an eye about the place. Beneath a high vaulted ceiling were a pair of large millstones covered in a thick layer of dust, as was everything else in the musty, cobwebbed brick building, but Grevail was nowhere to be seen.


    ¡°Grevail!¡± Alisia called over her shoulder.


    It didn¡¯t take him long to appear in a doorway at the rear of the room. He was disheveled¡ªblack curly hair a mess and clothes dotted with stains. He stared at Tessyn, green eyes blinking, then dashed forward, bounding past the millstones in a blur to wrap her in a hug. ¡°Tessyn!¡±


    She hugged him in return, laughing, even as he threatened to squeeze the breath out of her.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Tessyn,¡± he mumbled into her hair.


    ¡°Grevail,¡± she said and pushed him to arm¡¯s length, surprised to see wetness in his eyes. ¡°It isn¡¯t your fault.¡± The tomb may have been his idea, but they¡¯d all gone along with it too. The only other choice they¡¯d had was to wait for the watch to storm Lowtown.


    ¡°We could use her help,¡± Alisia said.


    Tessyn turned to look at the other woman, whose deep blue eyes were busy sizing her up. ¡°With what?¡±


    ¡°Daryn and Asimir,¡± Grevail said. ¡°We are getting them out of the city.¡±


    Tessyn raised an eyebrow. ¡°Who are they? What about Raela and Dell?¡±


    Grevail put a hand on her shoulder and his gaze grew hard and determined. ¡°I have a plan. We¡¯ll get them back too. I have it, Tessyn.¡±


    Tessyn grunted in reply, stealing a look at Alisia, but the young woman did not so much as blink. He¡¯s told her about that stone, has he? Tessyn didn¡¯t know whether to be relieved or worried. If she hasn¡¯t ran to tell the Thava yet, she can¡¯t be about to do it now.


    ¡°The relic. I have it and I¡¯m going to trade it for Adellus and Raela.¡±


    Aritane, the older fellow, produce a few disgruntled noises at the mention of the relic, but Alisia bobbed her head at Grevail¡¯s words. ¡°And we¡¯ll help you get your friends back,¡± she said, ¡°but first thing first. If Amphid wants to retake our city, he has the best chance to do so with Daryn at his side.¡±


    ¡°Who is Daryn?¡± Tessyn asked again, spreading her hands at Grevail. ¡°How is he more important than Raela or Adellus, Grevail?¡± Why should we help Amphid? He never helped us!


    ¡°He is Khos of Tamirra,¡± Alisia said, rolling her eyes at Tessyn¡¯s ignorance. ¡°Grevail promised me his help.¡±


    Grevail gave a hurried nod, obviously trying placate the girl, but his gaze held a salience that was for Tessyn only. ¡°We¡¯ll need their help to get Raela and Dell back, Tessyn. If it wasn¡¯t for Alisia, I¡­who knows where I¡¯d be, maybe dead, and I wouldn¡¯t have found you. I want Raela and Dell back too, but this is the only way. We need their help.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s fill her in,¡± Alisia said. ¡°She is from Lowtown?¡±


    Tessyn raised an eyebrow at the woman. Who does she think she is ordering us around?


    Grevail noticed the look on Tessyn¡¯s face and hurried to speak first. ¡°Yes, she is, and she comes only if she wants to,¡± he said to Alisia, then directed a shrug at Tessyn. ¡°It could be dangerous and I don¡¯t want to talk you into anything worse than I have already.¡±


    Alisia analyzed Tessyn with a critical eye, as if she were an item for sale on a shop shelf.


    Tessyn patted Grevail on the cheek with a resigned breath. She had always wanted to be a part of his grand ideas, everyone did, even when they sometimes didn¡¯t turn out as intended, but this wasn¡¯t about getting them out of Lowtown as his schemes usually were. This was about saving Dell and Raela, and not even the Lady Of Graves could make Tessyn walk away from her friends, especially now. ¡°I¡¯m coming with you, Grevail. We¡¯ll get them back.¡±


    A relieved smile split his face and he threw his arms around her again.


    Tessyn smiled too, speaking into his chest as he crushed her against it. ¡°What¡¯s more, I know where Raela is. That Noz fellow and his friend are hiding near the Urucan Gate, but I don¡¯t know much more than that. If we are going to find where she is being kept, we need to start as soon as we can.¡±


    Grevail released her with another laugh, but his mirth soon faded. ¡°Well, it¡¯s a place to start. We¡¯ll find her.¡±


    Alisia took them in with a resigned sigh of her own before speaking. ¡°I¡¯m glad you have found your friend, Grevail, but our work tonight will be dangerous. We all need to be at our best and focused on the matter at hand.¡±


    Grevail was once more quick to ease her worries. ¡°I know. We will be.¡±


    ¡°What is this plan?¡± Tessyn asked, furrowing her brow at Alisia.


    The dark-haired woman¡¯s lips tightened in a grimace. ¡°Well, it was to get the nobles out through the Berry Gate, but the Urucan have increased the guard there, and atop the walls too. I¡¯m afraid we have no other choice but to go through the Eudan Gate.¡±


    Tessyn frowned. ¡°There are loads of Urucan at the gate¡­and the portcullis is down. How are we going to get past that?¡±


    Alisia nodded as if she realized what she was about to say might seem absurd. ¡°We will break into the gatehouse and raise it ourselves.¡±