《Dark God's Rise》 The Temple Deeps The temple deeps were cool and quiet. Brianda stalked carefully through their shadows, avoiding the pools of light cast by flickering lanterns. The silence made her ears ache, making it hard to concentrate on the game at hand. Personally, she didnt see the point of playing, but Raomar had said Ghost needed something to do, and that they needed to train. Thought you said you werent my master, Brianda grumbled, and the ex-guildmaster had given her an icy stare. The Northman, standing slightly behind him, had scowled, and shaken his head in warning. I am master enough in this, Raomar had replied. And Ghost needs the practice. And then hed put Ghost in charge of the gamea pre-adolescent regardless of her mixed heritage. The child had chosen Raomar as the bait, and set Grunwol, his Northlander protector to guard him, while she and Brianda raced to reach him without being detected or taken out by the others. QQWhich is why Im sneaking through a wine cellar instead of drinking the contents of these barrels,QQ she thought, coming to a halt and peering around the final cask in the row. Raomar had chosen an area bathed in the warm glow of a wall lamp set above a small table and two chairs, but he wasnt seated. Instead, he stood in front of one of the chairs, looking down at an isolated cask before filling a long-stemmed glass with shimmering gold liquid. Watching him, Brianda admired the way he conveyed that the contents of his glass were more important than anything that might come out of the cellar dark. The straw-gold hair of his kevarag-elf heritage gleamed in the lamp light, its fine yellow strands marred by three streaks of blue. Those streaks marked him as one of Enshuls favored. His dark-blue cape swished around his fine, black boots as he raised the glass, examining its contents. Brianda didnt let him distract her for too long. Somewhere, in the cellars shadows moved a greater threat. Grunwol was hunting her with the same intensity with which shed approached Raomars waiting spot. As she thought it, Raomar raised his head, his gaze sweeping over the cask in whose shadows she hid. Brianda froze, wondering where Grunwol was hidingand how he could hide so effectively. The man was huge, as big as a bear, but considerably more like the wolf his name recalled. Brianda took a long, slow breath, and peered cautiously back around the barrel. To her relief, Raomar had returned to his seat and was reading the piece of parchment that had rested there. Brianda didnt know what was on it, but he seemed to find it interesting enough. QQProbably a stock listQQ, she thought, and didnt let him fool her. While he might QQlookQQ like he was studying the parchment, he was probably looking beyond it. It made her wish she knew where Grunwol was, and brought unbidden memories to mind. The last time shed been in a cellar like this one, shed been Brianda took a sharp breath, cutting the thought off. Forcing her attention to the situation at hand, she looked around for another patch of shadow to move to. She cursed softly when she didnt find one, knowing it was one mistake her first master would never have tolerated. QQHed have punished me, for sureQQ, she recalled, her sadness vanishing in a wave of unexpected anxiety, as the memories returned. It wasnt that she couldnt move back the way shed come. It was that her target might have seen her over the top of the parchment and she couldnt move to another position without losing sight of him. QQAnd that would be a mistakeQQ, she noted, wondering where Grunwol was. The man could move like a ghost, and he had both reach and mass on her. The thought sent another shiver through her. QQGravarik! QQThe fear following the name chilled her to the core, and she shook the thought away. QQThat was another time and placeQQ, she reminded herself, QQAnd another Northman.QQ She shoved aside the memory that Gravarik had not been just a Northman, but That had been the information her master had required. And I got it, she whispered, not intending to speak the words out loud. She pressed her lips together, shuddering. QQI got itQQ. Knowing her voice had given her away, for sure, Brianda hastily retraced her steps, eyeing the racks of casks around her. Gravarik had kept her in a cellar like thishad pursued her through it when shed escaped. She climbed the casks Letting the thought trail to nothing, Brianda glanced across at the casks opposite. The racks stood six casks tall. Brianda stopped. Six was tall enough for her to touch the supporting beams. With a quick look toward Raomars warmly lit space, she darted across the aisle and scrambled quickly up the rack. Shed almost reached the top when she heard the slight sound of movement. Praying the shadows near the top of the rack would conceal her, she froze. Glancing toward the sound, she saw Raomar had come to the end of the casks and was standing silhouetted against the lamplight, his hair forming a golden nimbus around his head. He stood there for almost a minute, studying the shadows around the base of the racks. QQIf he looks upQQ, Brianda thought, and resisted the urge to scramble to the top of the casks. She only had two barrels to go, but movement would draw his attention as surely as any noise she might make in her haste. What followed was a duel of wits, Raomars curious gaze against her ability to stay motionless in the narrow shadow she occupied between the casks. After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, Raomar moved back into the circle of light and out of sight.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Releasing a quiet breath of relief, Brianda resumed her climb. She only had two more barrels to traverse. Four feet. They were the longest four feet she had ever had to cover. When she was finally able to haul herself onto the topmost cask, she crouched, looking along the row to make sure she was alone. She wouldnt put it past Grunwol to have made the heights on the racks his hunting ground. The Northlander was well-known for his ability to climb with an elegance and grace that made many cat burglars green with envy. Brianda felt both a sense of surprise and relief when the area she could see remained empty of his presence. Fairly sure she couldnt be observed, she straightened carefully, reaching for the support beam above her, and glanced around once more. When it remained clear, she stretched up, gripping the edge of the beam, and hauling herself upward. Her arms ached with the effort, but she swung a foot, hooking it over the beam, as well. A shadow shifted to her right, and Grunwol turned his head. Brianda caught sight of the pale oval of his face and gleam-toothed grin, and gasped. His green eyes glittered with mischief. Gravarik. The word was out before Brianda could censor it. She flicked her foot off the beam, and pushed away from the edge. As quick as she was the Northman was almost as fast. Brianda felt his fingers brush the back of her wrist as she dropped toward the casks. As she landed, she heard the soft rustle of cloth and glanced toward it. The damned kevarag had the ears of a cat! QQWhich, given his clanQQ she thought, shoving the logic aside as Raomar pulled himself onto the top of the casks, and moved carefully toward her. Out of the lamplight, his hair became a pale outline surrounding his head, negating the camouflaging effects of his green and brown splotched skin. Brianda took a swift step back as he advanced. The beam above her creaked, and she ducked, feeling the brush of fingertips against her collar. It was a momentary distraction as Raomar swept toward her, the grace of his movements reminding her, once more, of a wild cat. Brianda slide-stepped to the edge of the casks, sliding her hands to the edge, and the beam above her gave another creak. The barrels shook as Grunwol dropped onto them, and Brianda pushed herself over the edge, dropping to the floor. Grunwol dived toward her, his hand closing around her wrist and jerking her to a halt. Briandas body slammed against the casks, and she gasped in protest. As she did, something dropped past her. Raomar! Brianda hooked her legs up out of his reach, but Grunwol gave a grunt of effort and swung her out from the casks. She flailed, trying to find her center as he released her, letting her drop to where Raomar was waiting to catch her. Game over, he managed as he caught her. Game over, Brianda agreed, resisting the urge to fight, and pushing down the panic surging through her. Raomar released her as soon as she relaxed, and she managed not to bolt when a small voice interrupted them. My turn, Ghost demanded, her voice coming from the shadows alongside them. Turning toward it, Brianda sensed Grunwol hesitate at the top of the casks. The shadows parted and a young elf stood before them. Child didnt do her justice. She was past what humans termed childhood, having seen more summers than Taras seventeen. Ghost. Raomar sounded annoyed. Ghost gave him a look of solemn attentiveness. Yes, master? Raomar glared at her, but Brianda saw the slight smile curving his lips. She saw when Ghost noted it, but didnt see any hint of an answering smile on the childs face. My turn, master? Raomar ducked his head, the pointed tips of his ears parting his hair, and the angular planes of his face creating shadows over his skin. They shouted QQelfQQ to the worldand, coupled to the green and brown of his skin, shrieked QQkevaragQQ! Most would have taken that as a warningand the fact he belonged to that race should have frightened her more than Gravarik and his master. The kevarag were rumored to dwell in the darkest centers of ancient forests, in the deepest chasms of the mountainsand deep within the mountains themselves. They were also rumored to worship dark gods and demons, as well as shapeshifters, and the butchers of more human settlements than history could account for. None of these things bothered her when it came to this kevarag. Shed seen in him the stern guildmaster, but also an elf wallowing in the depths of despair, as drunk as a lord as he tried to drown his pain. And shed seen him loyal to his friends, placing himself in mortal danger to free them from the ancient power that sought their livesand soulsto fuel its freedom. Those friends were currently saferesting in an upper room in the temple, because the cellar had reminded them too much of the cells and underground temple in which theyd been held and readied for sacrifice. They had traveled with them in order to satisfy a request from the gods. Since their arrival at the temple, Raomar hadnt made a second attempt to drink away the pain of his goddesss rejection. Brianda suspected he still felt the pain, but that he kept it well-hiddenuntil he thought his companions were asleep. She also suspected that Grunwol and Ghost were aware of it, but like her, they kept the illusion of sleep, as their master grieved. A thud on the cellars flagstone floor broke into her reflection, and Grunwol landed beside her. She flinched, and the barbarian chuckled. Gotcha, he whispered, nudging her in the ribs. Gotcha, yourself, she grumbled back, smiling in spite of herself. Your turn, Raomar agreed, speaking to the child. Ghosts amber eyes lit with delight, and she bounced happily on the balls of her feet. Raomar gave her a mock-thoughtful gaze. Now What game shall we play, I wonder? Ghost scowled. Its she began, only to be interrupted by Grunwol. Why dont we ask Ghost what she wants to play? he suggested, smirking at the kevarag, adding, It QQisQQ her turn Raomar rolled his eyes, and Tara smiled at the word play between them. Shed seen the same kind of thing beforebetween the brothers and sisters of a far-distant court. Her heart caught at the memory, and she quieted it. There was no point in grieving for things she couldnt have had. Shed been the half-bred bastard of a favored concubine, and would have been banished to the streets if the Spymaster hadnt taken her on. The bonds that led to this kind of teasing had never been hersbefore. Still smiling, she stepped a little closer to the shadows, only to have Grunwol lay a heavy hand on her shoulder. He drew her back to his side, shaking his head. Nice try. Brianda shrugged. You cant blame me for the attempt, she told him, and he gave an amused snort. Raomar ignored the by-play, and turned to Ghost. What QQwouldQQ you like to play? he asked mildly. Stalkers! the child announced. And who are QQyouQQ going to stalk? Raomar asked, and Ghost looked him squarely in the eye. You, she replied, looking as sinister as she knew how. Truly? the kevarag responded. And what about Brianda and Grunwol? Ah, ah. Ghost wagged a finger at him. That would be telling. Off you go. Raomar smiled at her and sauntered down the aisle between the racks, turning a corner and vanishing out of sight. As he disappeared, Ghost approached Brianda. No listening, she admonished the barbarian when he stooped to hear what she whispered in Brianda''s ear. Brianda smiled at the target shed been assigned and moved quickly and quietly out of sight, taking to the shadows as soon as she reached the end of the aisles. From their shelter, she watched as the girl whispered a name into the barbarians ear, and then waited until hed walked away. She had to smile at Ghosts look of consternation, when the child realized she hadnt given Raomar a target name, and watched as the girl scampered in the direction in which the kevarag had disappeared. As soon as the girl was out of sight, Brianda turned to the casks and climbed to the top. Up there, in the dust-covered shadows, she began to stalk the temple deeps once more. 2鈥擳he Wizardess While her friends honed their skills in the temples cellars, the wizardess, Alessia Mistlewood, sat on the window seat in her assigned quarters. It was nice to feel the sun on her back as she watched her apprentices working to keep their minds from what had just happened. One of them, a solid girl with brown hair and eyes, was bent over a piece of embroidery, given to her by the temple priests. She sewed each stitch as though she wished to forget the last and wasnt seeing the picture on the cloth before her. Her brown hair had lost its chestnut gleam, and her brown eyes no longer held the laughter for which she had been known. Her name was Zarine, and her sleep was still troubled by the nightmare through which shed lived. Every now and then, shed glance anxiously over at her mistress, or across at the slightly older girl sitting at the table. Dark-haired and gray-eyed, Sindra was the oldest of her fellow-apprentices. She was frowning at the book before her, as if trying to understand the arcane theory it contained. A parchment, ink and quill stood beside her, occasionally shed return Zarines glances, or look down at her notes, or cast a wary gaze over the young boy sitting at the edge of a pool of sunlight. He was practicing spell-lets, minor forms of spells designed to prepare apprentices for the gathering and control of larger amounts of magical power. He was summoning and banishing tiny pools of dust. His name was Varan. Sindras next glance showed he was getting bored. He was forming the pools of dust into increasingly elaborate patterns, until it was obvious hed gone beyond spell-lets. The dust forms he created showed he was gathering and using the same amount of arcane power as required by most basic spells. His erasure of the patterns was also reaching that level for he was not simply wiping the dust away with single sweep, but following the lines of his creation until his destruction of the pattern was almost as complex as his creation of it. She glanced at Alessia, and saw the Mistresss gaze had been taken by something beyond the window. Mistress? she called softly, but Alessia didnt respond. She seemed lost in thought as she stared out the window into the forest beyond. Mistress, Sindra repeated, and waited until the wizardess looked up from her brooding to answer. What is it, Sindra? she asked, her voice quiet with remembered horror. See how accomplished our Varan has become? Sindra asked, gesturing toward the youngest apprentice. Varan grinned, pleased to have caught her attention. Seeing he had Alessias attention, also, he set the dust into a frenzy of complex swirls, creating the most complicated pattern he had yet to make. Sindra let out a soft breath of relief, when she saw Alessia smile. Very nice, Varan, but can you remove it as prettily? the wizardess asked. Varans grin grew wider. Watch, he replied, and Sindra knew he was going to try something far beyond what hed been doing before. With a sequence of elaborate gestures, and the warble of a chant none of them had taught him, Varan snapped his fingers in a staccato pattern over his design. The dust leapt from the floor in patterned sections, then swirled into the sunlight and hung there until he gestured, again. With another series of gestures, Varan caused the dust to swirl briefly into the design hed lain out on the floor, and then disappear in a fading glow of light. He glanced triumphantly across at Zarine and Sindra, then turned toward Alessia for approval. He looked so triumphant that Sindra had to suppress a smile. That became harder when she followed the boys gaze and caught the drop-jawed amazement on the wizardesss face. Well, mistress? he asked, and Alessia closed her mouth with a snap. A faint frown creased her brow when she saw her youngest apprentice watching her, a glint of victory in his eyes. She cleared her throat. Well done, Varan, she replied, managing to keep the amazement from her voice. Her next words were full of cool assessment. Id say you managed that magic quite nicely. Varans face fell, and Alessia relented. It was astounding, Varan, she told him. I havent had another apprentice do so well before. You will make a great mage. Sindra didnt need to look into her mistresss mind to read the uncertain certainty there. Varan was going to be a great magebut what form would his magic take? What form, indeed? came the agreement of another mind. Sindra startled, looking around the room before settling on the window. Given the room was empty, it was the only place the voice in her mind could have come from. Someone was watching them! Despite her suspicions, the only living thing outside the window, was the furry ginger form of a red squirrel. Sindra stared at it, noticing the intent way the small creature observed them. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Are you she began, staring at the little creature. The squirrel adopted a smug look, and flipped a forepaw over its ear. Its whiskers twitched in apparent amusement, then it scampered down the tree. Before she could say anything, it had reached the window ledge outside. There, it tapped on the casement, prying it open and slipping through. Sindra made it out of her seat and was heading toward it, when it leapt down to the floor, its shape changing to the agile form of a young man. Yes, he said, smiling as he answered her question. I am. He glanced across the room, and his smile faded to alarm as he registered Alessias reaction. The wizardess had come out of her seat, retreating across the room to stand, hunched in a corner, her knuckles jammed between her teeth as though to prevent a scream. Likewise, Zarine had slid out of her chair, leaving her embroidery on the table as she prepared to cast a defensive spell. At least, thats what Sindra thought it was meant to be. She reached across to slap her fellow-apprentices hands out of their pattern, disrupting the spell. It was Varan who saw what his mistress intended. After extending himself to form the elaborate patterns from the dust, his mage sense was stretched taut, sensitive to the slightest current of power in the airand his mistress had just become a seething mass of energy. Looking toward her, he saw her hands move in the first gesture for a new spell. The sense of power coming off her made his mage-sense ache, as did the aggressive destruction the power suggested. His mistress was afraidand the newcomer might be benign, but the wizardess wasnt going to give him a chance to prove otherwise. Varan pushed himself to his feet, the oppressive sense of his mistresss magic beating at his head. Whatever it was she was about to cast, Varan knew he needed to stop it. The newly-arrived shape-changer was faster. He raised a hand, smiling gently as he spoke a single word. Power rippled out from him, and Alessias hands stopped moving. Her voice faded to a panicked mumble before she could complete whatever it was she sought to cast. The gathered magic began to unravel. Varan sensed it coming apart, and couldnt help it. Hed never seen so much power gathered in one place before. If he could only He reached for it, his mage sense protesting at this added extension, but Varan ignored its warning. He was too focused on the pattern he was going to create this time. Warned by a mage-sense of his own, the shape-shifting wizard felt the power move, sensing the current of wild magic move toward the boy. Released from Alessias control, the magic surged and rolled. Knowing it was too great for any apprentice to wield, the strange mage reached out and gave the child a gentle shove. It wasnt much, but it was enough to stop him from keeping the spell in his mind. Varan shouted in protest, the magic spilling from his control, losing the shape hed tentatively been trying to form. Youve done enough today, Varan, Sindra stated. The newly arrived mage looked at the girl hed first seen from the windowthe one with the gift of mindspeak. Thank you for your support, my lady. He tried saying it with a smile, and was rewarded by a fleeting smile in return, but the expression was quickly gone, the stern frown replacing it not an improvement. Perhaps youd better introduce yourself and explain who comes here uninvited and in such an inadvisable fashion. The strange mage opened his mouth to reply, only to close it again as a gentle breeze wafted past them, vanishing out the window through which hed entered. Both he and Sindra pivoted toward its source. It was clear Zarine wasnt going to wait for an introductionand that her next spell wasnt going to be so benign. Once more, the strange mage spoke a single, gentle word, and froze one of her companions in their place. Dont worry, the stranger assured Sindra. Theyll both be all right. And you? Varan demanded, even though he didnt get up from the floor. What were you doing spying on us? His eyes narrowed with suspicion. Are you a peeping tom? Sindra and the strange mage exchanged glances. Sindra arched an eyebrow. Well? IIm not a peeping Tom, the mage sputtered. Im He sighed. I was passing by, as a squirrel, you know? When I caught sight of this shimmer, and, well, you know squirrels and sparkles. They just cant help themselves Andwhen youre in that form, neither can you? Varan challenged sharply. The mage blushed. Ill tell you what, when youve made your first shift, you can tell me how you went resisting your chosen forms temptations, he retorted. Varan rose into a crouch, his eyes growing dark and a snarl forming on his lips. The strange mage stepped closer in alarm. I didnt mean, now. Varan! Sindra cried, giving the boy a hasty nudge with the toe of her boot. Thats enough magic for today. The boy gave her a rebellious stare. I mean it, Sindra warned. And the mistress will say the same, so dont ignore me. She turned back to the mage. And? And so I scampered up that tree there, and took a little look A little look? Sindra challenged. Then how did you know to disturb Varan before he could hurt himself trying to wield more than his mind could hold? The mage rolled his eyes. IwellOkay, I admit it. It was more than a little look, but those patterns He cast Varan a wary glance. Your mistress is right, you know. You will one day become a formidable mage. The boy gave him another rebellious look, and he hurried to explain. Ive been sitting up there for just over a full turn of the hour glass. As soon as hed said it, his eyes widened and his face paled. Oh noIm going to be late. Late? A meeting. The mage tried to brush it off with a glib wave of the hand. Sindra decided to let it go, changing the subject, instead. Why? she asked. Why? the stranger repeated. Because I was curious, because the patterns the boy was making mesmerized me for longer than I care to admitor because Im unbelievably nosy. Take your pick. He paused apologetically. I didnt mean to startle you. Given where weve come from, Sindra replied tartly, that was a fools dream. But I wasnt to know that, the mage said softly. If I had, I might have chosen to make aless dramatic entrance. Sindra sighed and indicated the statue-still forms of Alessia and Zarine. It will have to do, she noted. Now, if you could release my friends? Of course, of course, the mage hurriedly answered, uttering the phrase required to end his enchantment. Alessia uttered a small gasp, then clasped her hands and studied the young mage. Zarine stumbled sideways, catching the edge of the table to steady herself before she fell. The girl gave the strange mage a resentful scowl, then returned to her seat and picked up her tapestry. The mage watched as she re-seated herself, and then turned to Alessia. Sindra stepped back to her seat signaling Varan should join her at the table. Write down what you learned, she instructed, if only to give the boy a task not involving magic. The strange mage bowed to her mistress, and Sindra observed as Alessia favored the young man with a forced smile. What she could not see was how their kevaragan friend reacted when Zarines message wind reached his ear. 3鈥擜n Unwelcome Surprise Down in the cellar, Brianda closed on her designated mark. She was thinking of making her descent to the ground behind him, when his hair lifted as though caught by a gentle breeze. Raomar stopped, cocking his head as though listening to someone speak, but Brianda heard nothing. Taking advantage of his preoccupation, she rose slowly into a crouch. A scuff to her left caught her attention, and she glanced toward itGrunwol! Gods, how had the Northman found her so fast? It didnt matter. He came diving out of the shadows of an intersecting column of casks, the racks shaking beneath them as he knocked her from her crouch. Brianda threw herself into a backward roll attempting to grab him and use his momentum to pitch him over her head and down into the aisle beyond. With any luck, hed land on the kevarag. She didnt stop to think of what the drop from the top of the casks to the floor would mean for himor her, if she followed him over. She didnt have time to think. As Grunwol slammed into her, her foot slipped between two casks and she fell. Instead of flipping into a roll that sent them both over the side, she ended up on her back, his weight crushing her to the top of the cask as her leg and knee flared with pain. She bit back a cry as he levered himself off her, not caring that he kept a good grip on her shoulder. Gotcha, he grunted. Yield, Brianda agreed, swallowing hard against the wave of pain that rolled up her leg. A stone skipped out of the darkness, bouncing across the flagstones to rest at Raomars feet. He shook his head, as though freeing it from the breeze, and glanced toward its origin. Game over, he called, as another stone came flicking out of the darkness to hit him in the chest. He glared at the shadows. I said game over, he repeated in a growl of frustration. Ghosts giggle floated out of the dark, and she followed. Gotcha. She was still smiling as she slid from the space between two casks and scrambled to her feet. Very good, Raomar acknowledged, before directing his attention to the top of the casks. I said the game was over. Grunwol lifted himself clear of Brianda, kneeling carefully beside her, and watching as she carefully tried to pull her leg free. When he reached to help her, she flinched back, and he paused, turning his attention to her leg. Thats going to hurt coming out, he observed. Brianda nodded, pressing her lips together. Shed been injured like this, beforeGravarik! With Grunwol looming so close, the memories came flooding back, and she closed her eyes against them, reminding herself that this wasnt the same barbarian, that this barbarian was on her side. Raomar sighed impatiently. Zarine says there is danger, Raomar stated. We need to go. Ignoring the urgency in his voice, Brianda gritted her teeth and nodded to Grunwol. She forced herself not to panic as he moved in front of her and lifted her to her feet. You ready? he asked, and she looped her arms around his neck, before pressing her face to his chest and nodding. Her Ready, came out muffled, but his arms tightened around her. Brianda! Grunwol! Raomars worried demand, almost drowned out Briandas cry of pain, as Grunwol pulled her free of the gap. Raomar misinterpreted the cry. The game is over! Neither of them answered as Grunwol helped Brianda swing herself over the edge of the rack, then let go so she could make a controlled drop to the floor below. Raomar watched them, his face set and angry. I thought I told you he began, his anger dying as Brianda landed, then collapsed with another cry of pain. When next he spoke, his tone held resignation, What did she do? I tripped, Brianda replied. Got her leg stuck between two casks, Grunwol answered at the same time. So, which is it? Raomar demanded, looking from one to the other. Did she trip or catch her leg? Both, they replied. Raomar opened his mouth to say something, only to be interrupted by Ghost. Zarine needs us, she reminded them. We should hurry. Raomar nodded, hastening to kneel at Briandas side. Here, he began, reaching for where she grasped her knee between both hands. Let me Brianda saw when he reached for his goddessand when he realized she wouldnt answer. His hand dropped, and he bowed his head. Im sorry, he told her. Theres nothing His voice cracked, and he rose abruptly to his feet. Ill send one of our hosts, he told her. Their god hasnt abandoned them. Ill be fine, Brianda replied, trying to ease his pain, not only at losing the favor of his goddess, but also at losing the power to help those in his charge. You three go ahead. Ill be there as soon as help comes. Raomars mouth opened, then closed again, as though he was torn on how to respond. Ill be fine, she insisted. But Zarine and Alessia It was what Raomar needed to hear, and he turned abruptly away, his whispered apology lingering as his footsteps died. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Im sorry. Grunwol followed his master, casting an anxious glance over his shoulder as he went. Brianda raised a hand to signal she would be all right, and he continued, moving around the end of the casks with Ghost and Raomar, and not looking back. Brianda waited until she heard the sound of the cellar door open and close, then slumped back against the casks. After a moment, she twisted, resting the full length of her leg against the floor and letting the cold of the flagstone ease some of the fiery pain burning through it. She didnt dare move until the aching subsided, and only then did she pull herself slowly to her feet and make her slow and painful way down the aisle, leaning on the casks for support. Every step sent more pain jolting through her, but she kept on, hoping Raomar had found a priest and sent them to her aid. Every step hurt, but she persisted until the pain drover her to lay her leg against the flags, once more. Refusing to cry, she curled against the casks, waiting for the cold stone to work its magic. * * * Upstairs, in the wizards chamber, Sindra was still frowning, but she had returned to her seat, and the book that lay open on the table. Once again, she wrote sporadically on the parchment set beside the book, and once again, she kept a careful watch on those in the room around her. Zarine had relaxed enough to return to her sewing. Her stitches were slower, lacking the desperation theyd had earlier, and her shoulders had less tension. She no longer seemed to be trying to forget each stitch she sewed. If anything, Sindra thought, the girl seemed to be enjoying the company of the strange mage seated on the woven rug before her. And he seems to be enjoying her company, too, Sindra thought, a slight smile curling her lips. Sindras smile faded as he looked toward her mistress. Alessia had returned to her seat in the slowly moving sun, albeit now she listened as Zarine and the mage spoke. She listened, but she made no attempt to join the conversation. She still sat as tensely as she had been sitting before. Haunted, Sindra thought, looking at her, and knew the fears that stalked her own dreams, stalked her mistresss, as well. Her gaze drifted back to the book, but the arcane script blurred to a meaningless scribble before her eyes. Sindra blinked, and rubbed her hand across her face. Her mistress wasnt the only one who had to conquer her fears. Sindra sighed, lifting her gaze to the window at her mistresss back. She tensed as movement flashed beyond it, rising from her seat to see something snaking its way toward the windows edge. As she watched, it paused, half-raised and peered inside. Sindra gasped, her eyes widening with fear as she stared at the thing disguised in earth and leaves from the bushes outside the window. Alessia whirled to face it, and Varan grabbed the nearest chair swinging it at the thing beyond the window. The glass shattered and the creature beyond yelled in alarm and rolled to one side. The chair legs caught on the window frame, shattering as Varan drew it back and swung it, again. A second creature rose out of the leaves and seized the edges of the chair, extending surprisingly human hands from under its camouflage. Zarine caught sight of them, too, and sputtered into abrupt laughter. Sindra and Alessia gave her startled looks, and her laughter grew. ImIm so sorry, she sputtered. I foforgot. Forgot what? Alessia asked in exasperation, but their visitor got it, first. The message wind! he exclaimed. How could I have forgotten? The figure holding the chair pushed the leaf-covered hood from his head and slowly lowered the broken seat. Sindra recognized Grunwols white hair and green eyes, and took a deeper breath. The other figure pulled the hood clear of his head, and Sindra saw Raomars familiar blue-streaked straw-colored hair. Grim amusement etched his green-brown face and Varan backed away from the broken window, letting the pair enter. Trio, Sindra corrected herself, as Ghost dropped down from an overhead branch. Roamer! Alessia cried, hurrying forward to help him through the window. She ignored the new mages indrawn hiss of surprise and fear, and Sindra got ready to intervene, but the mage only tensed, and then he waited to see what would happen next. As soon as she had him in the room, Alessia wrapped her arms around the kevarag, buried her face against his chest, and began to cry. Raomars skin darkened as though embarrassed, but he wrapped his arms around her, and stared defiantly at the mage, standing beside Zarine. When he spoke, he addressed the apprentice, and not the stranger. This is what scared you? he asked, waving a hand at the startled wizard. Zarine nodded, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, but Raomar only cocked his head, studying the mage with appraising eyes. He doesnt look so dangerous to me, he remarked. What made you think he was? Sindra decided to intervene. It was the manner of his arrival, she stated, drawing Raomars attention. And how did he arrive? As a squirrel through that window, Sindra explained, indicating the smaller casement, the mage had used to enter the room. He startled the mistress and frightened Zarine into summoning you when he shape-changed into a human. The kevarag shrugged, absent-mindedly stroking Alessias hair with one hand. Looking beyond the apprentices, he looked back again at the mage, and saw the mans fear fighting his curiosity in the windows of his eyes. He smiled, meaning to ease some of the mages worries, and shaking his head when he saw hed failed. Not all of us serve the powers of the dark, he said. Just as not all shapechangers use an evil power to affect their changes, the mage replied. Your name? Raomar asked. Rur-an-ith, the mage told him, pronouncing each syllable carefully. Ruranith Melkin al Runidah. A pleasure to meet you, Raomar replied. I am Raomar. You need not call me anything else. Glass crunched, and wood splintered as it was cleared away from the window. Grunwol hauled his large frame into the room, then reached back out to offer Ghost a helping hand. Hearing it, Alessia gave one last sniff, then pulled herself gently out of Raomars arms. Thanks, Rao, she said, moving to sit beside Sindra, and quietly dabbing at her eyes. Raomar didnt attempt to hold her, merely watched as she retreated, concern showing in his eyes. Youve spent too much time underground, he told her Ill speak to the priests of your need. Alessia gave him a forced smile. Im a wizardess, she told him. Were supposed to spend a lot of time indoors. Raomar gave her a steady stare. Nevertheless, he told her, Ill speak with them. IIm s Alessia began, but Raomar waved her apology away. Its all right. The waitingand the last few dayshasnt been very good for any of us. The door opened and they pivoted toward it, weapons raised, and spells prepared. A young priest holding a meal tray stood in the doorway. He gave them a puzzled look. Im sorry, he began, noting the tension in their postures. I didnt mean to startle you. Raomar stepped forward, and he tensed, despite the kevarags next words. Its the wait. Were all on edge, he said, by way of explanation. Movement glimmered behind him, and the priest hurriedly stepped forward, looking awkward as he entered the room. A priestess in yellow robes, edged in pale blue, stepped into the room after him. Raomar thought she looked like a sunny bolt of lightning. Then its a good thing the waiting is over, the priestess announced. The ceremony will occur, tonight. The gods have appointed it thus. The gods be praised, Raomar replied not bother to keep the sarcasm from his voice. His tone earned him a reproving look. If you have so little faith in the gods, she challenged, Why have you come? Raomar lifted his chin, his voice hardening. Because the gods ordered it, and I have no choice, he answered. Then youd better find the faith, she ordered sternly, before indicating the tray carried by the young priest. The meals are for the wizardess and her charges. Your food has been delivered to your appointed quarters, and its remains will be removed in an hour. It was as much of an order for them to return to their quarters as Sindra had ever heard, and she resented the priestesss tones. Raomar, however, merely nodded. Thank you, my lady, he replied, and went to lead his companions past her. She ignored him, focusing on the mage. And you, Master Ruranith, what brings you here? she asked. Mere curiosity, my lady, the mage replied. I was coming to see High Priest Ardor, when I chanced by this window and And you couldnt help but pry, the priestess admonished, her words softened by the beginnings of a smile. I trust youll be paying your respects, soon, then Again, Sindra recognized an order disguised as an observation, and the mage nodded. That I will, my lady. I have need to speak with him. And he has need to speak with you, the priestess reminded him tartly, before glancing at her assistant, and speaking sharply, Titan, stop your gawking and deliver that tray. The young priest jumped at her voice, the tray rattling in his hands. With an obvious effort, he took his gaze from the kevarags face, and looked for somewhere to put his tray. Sindra snapped her book closed to draw his attention, then indicated the clear space before her. By the time the tray had been delivered, Raomar had led Grunwol and Ghost from the room, and she realized the spymasters apprentice hadnt been with them. 4鈥擨njury and Healing Down in the cellar, Brianda leant against the casks and resisted the urge to weep. The pain raging through her swollen knee and ankle made it impossible for her to standand Raomar had not returned. With nothing to see in the darkness, she closed her eyes, listening for any sound that would let her know her companions had made it back. Instead, she heard the soft shuffle of strange footsteps and the clunk of a tray being set on a table. Meal time, she thought resignedly, and wondered if it would do any good to call out. Before she could, however, another voice rang out in the shadows. Hello? a man called. Hello? He gave a worried grunt, and Brianda heard his footsteps, again. She swallowed, hurriedly, moistening her throat to reply, before he left. As she did, she registered the footsteps were growing clearer and not more distant, and stifled a sigh of relief. The door to their quarters creaked, making her smile. Raomar had been happy to leave it unreported and unoiled. Itll warn us of intruders, hed said, making Brianda wonder what kind of intruders he expected to come from the cellar. Like I need to ask, shed thought, remembering countless tales where an inn or a temple had been raided by intruders digging their way up from below. It hadnt been a comforting thought. The footsteps grew louder, moving from their small common room and into the cellar. Hello? the man called, again. Ive brought your meal And news. He hesitated, then continued worriedly, Is anyone there? Here! Brianda called, coughing when her voice came out as a croak. Clearing her throat, she was about to try again, when she heard hurried steps moving toward her. Lamplight bobbed at the end of the racks, and the man called out, again. Hello? Brianda tried to pull herself to her feet, but her injured leg wouldnt hold and she dropped back down, whimpering. Hello? the man called. Where are you? This time when she tried to reply, her voice worked. Here! she called back, trying to ignore how weak she sounded. Where? Brianda eyed the light, calculating how far away he was. Third row from your leftI think, she called. Oris it your right Her voice faded, but the light bobbed a few cautious steps closer. Why dont you come out? Brianda sighed, and tried, once more, to get to her feet. She made it up, but when she tried to take a step toward him, her leg gave way and pain shot through her. Are you all right? he asked, as her pained outburst died to echoes. The stupidity of that drew a chuckle from her chest. Do I sound all right? she snapped, if only to get control of her unruly temper. Taking a breath, she added, Ive hurt my leg. She heard a couple of hurried steps, and then he called out again. Where are your friends? Why dont they help you? Our friends upstairs called for help, Brianda replied. She couldnt blame him for his caution, and made a note that Raomar wasnt the only paranoid one around. I was hurt, so I told them to go on ahead. Again, she pulled herself to her feet, this time keeping her weight on the barrels as she tried to move toward him. It was hard going, and her arms ached with the effort, but she managed one step, then two, before her leg gave out again and sent her crashing to the floor. At least I remembered to curse in elvish, she thought, relieved when he called out in response. Stay there. Im coming. Brianda didnt bother trying to hold back the bitter laugh that rose to her lips. What else does he think Id do? she wondered, resting her head against the cask beside her. Her leg burnt where it had caught between the casks, and the cold cellar floor was rapidly numbing her through. She fought to catch her breath, listening to the pad of his soft-soled boots over the flagstones. When they got close enough, she gathered herself in another attempt to get to her feet. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. She had braced both hands against the cask, and was getting ready to push herself off the floor when he appeared at the end of the aisle. Over here, she managed, resting her back against the casks and waving him toward her. He hurried forward. Hold on; Im coming. Brianda nodded, not lowering herself back to the ground, but propping herself, half-upright, as he came. As she expected, he was a priest, wearing the robes of Staravan. What she hadnt expected from a priest was the lean muscular buildand the tan, as if he spent much of his time out of doors or on the road. Nor had she expected for him to take one look at her and sweep her into his arms, before turning back toward the temple proper. Hey! she managed, after sputtering with indignation. When he didnt reply, she slapped him on the chest and repeated herself. Hey! Put me down! He looked down at her, his expression becoming chagrined when he registered her annoyance. Im sorry, he said, stopping and setting her gently on her feet, but even that was enough to make her gasp as her leg gave way. She clutched at his arm, and he caught her hand, sliding one arm around her waist to stop her falling. Now you see why I carried you, he said sternly, sounding impatient. Brianda blushed, both at the reprimand, and at being so weak. I That is, you startled me, she managed, adding tartly, And I prefer to walk without your help. He gave an impatient sigh. Very wellalthough carrying you would be much quicker. Youll have to be patient then, she retorted, carefully adding, Im not used to having someone carry me. The priest snorted, his lips twitching into a smile. As you wish, he conceded, letting her wind an arm around his waist, and carefully supporting her all the way back to the common room she shared with Ghost, Raomar and Grunwol. He didnt say anything more until hed settled her at the table. Ignoring the meal set there, he swiveled her chair to face him, and knelt to examine her injured leg. At first, Brianda tensed, but he carefully positioned her leg and began to inspect it. She was about to relax, when he took a knife from his belt, and she froze, starting back in the chair. The priest paused, leaving the blade in its sheath. I have to cut the seam, he said, giving her an impatient look, and pointing to her injured, trouser-covered knee. Ill replace them from the temple stores. Brianda forced herself to relax. Okay. The priest studied her, then sighed. I can call for one of the priestesses, he told her, If youd rather. She shook her head. No, its all right. Well, if youre sure. He drew the knife, then very carefully cut the outer seam of her breeches from ankle to thigh. When the injury was uncovered, he pursed his lips, studying the purple discoloration pooling around her ankle and knee, and the myriad bruises in between. What did you do? I tripped and got it wedged between two casks, Brianda deadpanned in reply. His eyes darted to her face as though checking to see if she was making fun of him. Tripped and His eyes narrowed. How did you manage to wedge it between two casks? I was walking along the top of one of the racks, when Grunwol jumped me, and She let her voice trail off at the expression on his face. What? The priest didnt answer straight away, but continued to stare at her for another long moment, before he sighed. All right, I wont ask. What you and the north man were doing on top of the casks, is none of my business. He turned back to her knee. Fixing the damage you caused yourself, on the other hand Carefully cupping her knee in one hand, he grasped the amulet at his throat with the other. He opened his mouth to say something, and stopped. UhYou dont mind me praying over it, do you? Brianda looked at him in surprise. Why would anyone mind the touch of a priest? It did no harm, and it healed, relieved pain, and cured sickness. Who cared what god supplied the power? No she managed. Why would I? The priest shrugged. Some would object if the deity differs from their own. Just to be clear, I will be asking for Staravans gift to heal you. Staravan, Miralei, Sophriel, Brianda shot back. It doesnt matter who, as long as the pain goes away. That drew a soft snort of laughter and a small smile. Good, the priest said, bowing his head, gripping the amulet anew. The prayer that followed was simple, its language stronger than the language of magic, sweeter almost. Brianda listened, letting the sound of it flow over her as Staravan granted the priests request, and a soft amber light grew around his hand. Warmth followed, and Brianda gasped, feeling it radiate out from his hand and into her knee. Glancing down, she watched the amber light shift to gold and spread, following the warmth of Staravans healing as it spread from her knee to her calf and shin, and down to her ankle. Even when his words were done, the priest retained his grip on both knee and amulet, and the magic continued to flow. Brianda watched it, noticing the pain recede, as the glow spread. They sat in silence until it faded, and the priest let go of her knee and sat back on his haunches looking tired. Its done, he said, after a moment. Where did you say your friends went? They were asked to come to the mages quarters, Brianda replied. Zarine called for help. The priest scrambled to his feet. Then I should find them and make sure they are all right. Ill come with you, Brianda stated, accepting the priests hand as he offered it in assistance. Im sorry about the meal. He smiled gently. The meal can wait until were sure your friends are safe, although what could threaten them in the temple, I do not know. Best we find out, soon, then, Brianda said firmly. They returned quickly to the quarters she shared with the others, the smell of her meal making her mouth water as she passed. They reached the mages quarters in time to see Ruranith bidding a priestess in pale yellow robes goodbye. The shapeshifter gave them a sharp-eyed glance as he passed, and Brianda returned it, sure the strange mage had had something to do with Zarines alarm. Beyond him, Raomar, Grunwol, Varan and Sindra stood watchful and silent. We will consult the gods on this matter, the priestess stated sternly. They must needs have their say. Thank you, the strange mage replied. Now, is the High Priest free? The priestess snorted. Hes been waiting for you, ever since he saw you slide through the orchard, she replied, sounding amused. The mages cheeks colored, and he murmured a hurried thanks before hurrying through the door, sidestepping Brianda and her escort as he went. The priestess watched him go, her gaze alighting on the newly arrived pair. Yes? she said. She is one of mine, Raomar hastened to interrupt. Weve been waiting for her arrival. Very well. The priestess nodded. Remember, tonight, at the temple hall. I shall send Uravan and Lenick to collect you. 5鈥擜 Gathering of Gods Brianda watched from the edge of the crowd. Having crept past the priests when the others had been stopped at the door and told to wait in the ante-chamber, she kept to the edge until she found a place in one of the niches set at regular intervals around the room. Incense burned in a brazier set on the shelf above her and the column on the inner edge of the walkway around the central seating area helped shelter her from view, as did the potted plant shed drawn to the front of the niche so she could crouch behind it. Observing through a gap in the leaves, Brianda had a clear view of the dais on which the exchange ceremony would be held. None of the priests in attendance gave the niche more than a second glance as they took their places, and Brianda felt a small sense of satisfaction. She might have sworn loyalty to Raomar when shed overstayed her welcome in Toramar, but her first loyalties had been held by King Strevanis spymaster, and hed taught her well. None of her skills had been reliant on the goddess whod cast Raomar aside, so shed lost nothing when shed been expelled from Toramars guild with her master. And speaking of Raomar Brianda looked for the ex-guildmaster, worried shed lost him in the crowd of robes and heavenly servants. She breathed a sigh of relief when he stepped into view to take his place on the dais, watching as he knelt. He no longer wore Enshuls deep blue, although his straw-gold hair still possessed the three streaks of blue denoting her favor. I wonder why she let him keep them? Brianda studied her master, tensing as a ripple of horrified whispers accompanied his appearance, and only relaxing a little when the High Priest had calmed them. Raomar had kept his eyes on the floor, taking his place in the dove-gray robes of a supplicant as though he was the only one in the room. Hes the only one that matters, Brianda thought, eyeing the others. There were priests and priestesses from almost every known deity, both good and evil alike, but no sign of the usual rivalries that divided them. Instead, a sense of waiting hovered over them all. As the crowd settled, the high priest raised his voice in prayer. He called on the deities of those gathered before himand on one or two more, asking them to come and make their exchange. He also asked them to be merciful, to grant their servants an understanding of their love and the reason theyd been set aside to serve another. He asked for peace, and for the pain of rejection to be soothed. After that, he spoke to the deities taking on a new servant, urging them to let their new servants know they were loved and valued, and requesting they be told why they had been called, and demanding they value their new servants at least as much as the deity from whom theyd called them. As he moved from one gray-robed priest to the next, High Priest Ardor called others from the audience: a senior priest from the priests former deity, and an equally senior priest from the deity whod requested them. One by one, he oversaw the transfer of each priest whose services were required by another. There were tears, some of regret, and some of relief, but many of joy, as men and women whod felt the same empty space where their deity should stand filled by another who needed them. Brianda waited, watching as the number of priests on the stage dwindled, leaving Raomar to kneel alone. High Priest Ardor moved to the center of the dais, looking out over the gathered priests as though searching for someone, but Enshuls priest stood three paces back, and he was Staravans representative. After hed waited in a long moment of silence, the high priest turned to Enshuls representative. Is she he began, only to be cut off by a sudden commotion at the temple entrance. The door slammed open and a man and a woman arrived, breathing hard as they skidded to a halt to scan the room. One of Staravans priestesses, followed, gesturing urgently to the front of the room, before closing the door behind them. Her face looked pinched and anxious, but she quickly caught up with them, hurriedly escorting them to where the high priest was waiting. Brianda studied the newcomers, noting the womans blue skin and recognizing she wore the robes of Lurani, god of fisherfolk, coastlines and coastal waters. The man with her was some kind of warrior, his skin shining a coppery bronze in the lamplight, while his loose-fitting silk shirt denoted his nobility. She watched as his eyes scanned the gathering of priests, and a thrill of unease swept over her. Here was someone on a war-footingor hunted. Or not comfortable in crowds, she amended, In spite of being used to command. When the mans gaze fell on Raomar, his hand dropped to his sword hilt, and Brianda tensed. Not one move, mister, she thought, Or youll be feeling my blade, priests and sanctified ceremony regardless. She almost relaxed when Staravans priests stopped the man at the edge of the dais, while the priestess drew his charge forward and away from Raomar, bidding her kneel and wait. As she settled, two more priests left the gathering to join her. One was that of Zhirinok, the god of worlds, and the other wore robes of a deep blue-green. It took Brianda a moment to recognize who they belonged to, given shed been raised so far from the sea, but the name eventually came, Skarsht, the all-encompassing god of oceans, seas and coastlines. Luranis superior. High Priest Ardor glanced at Enshuls representative, only to receive a sharp shake of his head. Briandas spirits sank, out of sympathy for her master. Not here, yet. Anger bubbled briefly in her mind. But why would she leave him like this? With a sigh of regret, the high priest turned to the newly arrived priestess. As he did, a presence built around him, its power growing as though more than one deity lent themselves to its creation. Brianda drew a quick breath, and shrank further into her niche, seeking the protection of the shadows as the presence spread. Keeping her eyes on the stage, she saw the sensation was accompanied by something more. As it grew stronger, she began to see the gods themselves. At first their forms were shimmers in the air, then they grew more solid, until they took on the substance of ghostsand then She hardly dared to breath. Skarsht reminded her of the sea shed glimpsed from Toramars clifftops, while Zhirinok Zhirinok struck her as strange. He held nothing in his hands, yet, when she glimpsed his palms, they seemed to hold all things between them. His legs and feet seemed at once to be there and not, as if he was walking the distance between her world and another. Brianda shivered, curling into the shadow and leaning against the cold, hard comfort of the rock. Staravans presence was less frighteningexcept for the impression he knew everything that was going on, including the fact she was hiding in his temple, when no one but the priests and the womans companion had been allowed admittance. His presence glanced in her direction as though in confirmation, and his lips quirked briefly upward in greeting, leaving her shocked. Does he read thoughts as well? Another glance at the deity revealed nothing. Hed returned his attention to his priest and looked lost in the blessing being spoken over the priestesss head. The priests of Skarsht and Zhirinok glanced up as a priestess of Lurani moved hesitantly to joined them. She looked unsure, and was obviously their junior in rank, but they beckoned for her to join them, inclining their heads in welcome as she came to a halt before them. You have traveled far, High Priest Ardor intoned, Feeling the rejection of your god and wondering why he has forsaken you. The girl raised her face to acknowledge the truth of his words, and her cheeks were streaked by tears. The high priest continued as though he hadnt noticed. He has not. See? He is here, waiting to soothe your hurt. He has watched over you, all your long journey, unwilling to withhold his presence, but knowing he must or you would not be sure of your path. The girl looked from the high priest to the newly arrived priestess. The priestess smiled, and the developing presence of Lurani smiled with her. The girls face reflected their joy and she opened her mouth to thank them, but High Priest Ardor had not finished. Know that Lurani bids you well. Know that he has chosen you for the path about to open to youand know that his blessing and good wishes go with you. The girl bowed her hand in reply, but not before Brianda caught the glint of newly formed tears. High Priest Ardor reached down and placed one hand on the girls shoulder, while offering her the other. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Rise now, and meet your new master. His name is Skarsht, and he knows all that happens in the realm of the sea and the lands that border it. Lord over Lurani, he has asked your service from one of his own, and been granted it. The priestess of Lurani nodded in confirmation, and the girl took the high priests hand and allowed him to help her rise. He turned her to face Skarshts representative. I present you with Ormorik, high priest to Skarsht, both within these lands and the lands beyond it His voice faltered, and his breath caught as he noticed the all-too-tangible presence of the gods. When he spoke, again, it was in a voice quaking with deference and awe. Priestess, I present you with Skarsht himself. All around the room, Brianda saw priests drop to their knees, and wondered why it had taken them so long to notice the deities. Once more, she caught a glance from Staravan and, this time, he winked. The priests on the dais would have knelt as well, but their gods moved to prevent them. Skarsht slipped an arm through that of his priest, preventing him from kneeling, as well as reaching forward to take his new priestesss hand. Another time, he told them. His voice was deep and full of resonance, reminding Brianda of the rushing of waves on a distant shore. For now, the god continued, For you, there is no time. I welcome your service and regret the necessity of taking you from my sons service. There are parts of you that are unique, that are found nowhere else on this world. Or on any other, Zhirinok added, inclining his head as the girl stuttered her thanks. He said nothing more, but faded from sight. As Brianda watched, she saw other gods appear throughout the hall. They came to stand before or beside their priests, until every priest had companyall bar one. The place behind Enshuls high priest remained ominously vacant. Brianda saw Raomar glance at the space she should have occupied, and wondered at the goddesss lack of care. * * * Other eyes noted the empty space with gathering satisfaction, hostile eyes, distant and disembodied. They observed the exchange involving the young priestess through the reeking, yellow gleam of an observer hiding in the shelter of the halls portico. The observer swayed. It was a snake-like creature of earth, and rocked by its masters mixed emotions. Alessia and her apprentices, and Raomar and his companions, would have recognized its foulness and danger, but no-one else, since the weirds had only recently been returned to the lands, and none of those present had ever come across one. The earth weird was something like the elementals that had earlier graced the temples courtyard, save that it had a twisted core of evil that made the land around it shrink from its presence. It was a minion of the elemental god, Walshira, and the deitys first living servant since his defeat. It and Walshiras other servants had slept, dormant while their masters prison had held his presence from the world. Summoned to wakefulness and service by Toramars king, it was a master of its kind, and well aware of what the humans relationship meant to his god. While the king had worked to increase his masters power, so Walshira had worked at enlarging the flaw in his prison, so that it not only allowed him to reach the outside world, but let him increase his influence upon it. With the flaw close to breaking point, Walshira now sought the one thing it needed to break the last of the wards preventing him from breaking throughthe sacrifice of a powerful wielder of magic. And they had found one in the wizardess, Alessia Mistlewood. Her name had been provided by a local crime lord, and Alessia and her apprentices had been captured and taken to the castle. So. Close! Walshira mourned, his anger burning through the creature. SO. CLOSE. The creature tried to focus on the ceremony before it, the ceremony and the single waiting priest, but Walshiras memories dwelt on a different ceremony. That ceremony had included the wizardess and her apprentices as intended sacrifices, alongside scores of priests belonging to Miralei, goddess of law and order. The priests misery and torment had been intended to strengthen the deity, while the souls, spirits, and magic of the wizardess and her apprentices had been meant to free him. The ceremony had failed. Walshiras frustration at this raked his servants mind with pain, and the weird suppressed an agonized moan. Dropping the temples protections to allow his master access, had also allowed true elementals of the air to free the intended sacrifices from their chains, and flee with them. The weird suppressed another growl. A fifth creature had flown with them, one that was neither elemental, nor weird, but a shapechanger. A witch? His master wondered. There had been witches of elemental power in his time, but hed thought them so rare as to be extinct. The king had not known of them. This fifth being had taken the first apprentice, while the elementals had taken the restand others, a girl thief, a Northman, and a kevarag had wreaked havoc by freeing the priests. But not all of them, Walshira gloated, remembering the power hed garnered from those the would-be rescuers had been forced to leave behind. The weird ground its teeth. Even unable to prevent their deaths, Miralei had still managed to wrench some of their souls from his masters graspand their spirits also. Between her unexpected strength and the raiders, they had managed to rob Walshira of the power hed needed to free himself. Vengeance! Walshira demanded, and the weird tensed, only its masters will keeping it from entering the ceremony and killing whoever it could reach. All it was permitted was to crane its head further around the nearest column to grant its master a better view. From there, they could see the gathered gods, all of whom showed a rising disquiet at Enshuls non-appearance. Walshira wondered at it, also. The goddess was not his ally, but the longer she delayed her arrival, the closer he came to recapturing the wizardess and her apprentices. The weird hoped she would delay a little longer, since every heartbeat meant his master was closer to getting back what he had lost. It watched as the priests prepared to wait even longer, only to be interrupted by their deities, and told the ceremony must continue regardless, that time was short. The weird curled its lip in scorn. Time was far shorter than they knew. When all the priests had been transferred, and the kevarag was the only one left waiting, the priests settled down to wait. Watching them, the weird saw both anxious and impatient glances directed toward the priest. Still the goddess failed to appear, and after a full turn of the hourglass, Walshira sent the weird into hiding, and left. He needed to speak to the king. * * * In the distant city of Toramar, Walshira found his priest waiting beside the pool in his private garden. He spiraled into the pools twisted whorl, smoothing its breeze-rippled surface until it resembled glass. Sensing his presence, the king opened his eyes, his moment of private contemplation replaced by alertness. He waits, Walshira stated, showing him the scene in the temple. Raomars blue-streaked hair gleamed in the temple lamplight, and the old god was careful not to show the waiting gods. You must order your men to stop the ceremony. But, my men are miles from me, and the last report indicated they would reach the town just as the sun sets. I will help you reach them, the old god replied. Are you ready? Tell me when, my lord. What would you have done? I have reached your commander, Walshira told him, shifting the image he was sharing with the king from Enshuls rejected priest to the kings commander. Tell him dissidents are hiding in the temple. Tell him the priests have risen against you and their lives are forfeit, that the temple must be cleansed by fire and all within it executed before they can spread any further lies. As you command, so shall it be, the king intoned, fixing his eyes on the dark-haired man marching at the head of a squad of forty men. His eyes roved over the surrounding countryside, watchful by habit, even when such alertness wasnt essential. The king opened his mouth to convey the Old Ones orders, then stopped. What about the town? he asked, knowing there would be some whod try to save their priests. Any who come to the priests aid are to be taken, as well. There will be no uprising in Toramar. And the other temples? the king enquired. Leave them for now, Walshira instructed. He might be able to take on the deities gathered in Staravans temple, but if he forced more of the current pantheon to take notice, hed end up losing the ground hed gained. They watched as the commander glanced at the sky, and called a halt. Speak, now, Walshira instructed. Commander Estelle, the king said, seeking the mans face in the picture. The man started in surprise, glancing hurriedly around. When he spoke, he kept his voice low, and moved a short distance from his men. Your majesty? he asked, scanning his surroundings. Stop looking for me, the king commanded. I am observing you from the palace. The power I serve has bridged the distance between us. The king watched the commanders throat work, and waited. It took a heartbeat for the man to swallow his uncertainty, then the commander cleared his throat. Your majesty, he acknowledged, his voice tight as he bowed his head. How may I serve? Observing the man, Walshira saw the dislike he hid from his king, and decided the commander would be perfect for his next array of gifts. There would be none to oppose him, none so aware of their compromised king that they sought to defeat him. He listened to the king relay his orders for the priests of Wildejun, and relished the thought of the terror that would rise from this battle-hardened veteran as he was transformed. I have just received word of an uprising, the king stated, and the man tensed. Noting his reaction, the king continued, The priests of Staravan are inciting rebellion in the guise of their lords teachings. I want you to storm Staravans temple in Wildejun and kill them all. Make them an example of what happens to those who move against me. The commanders face hardened at the idea of rebellion, and the king pressed his advantage. There are others involved. They have designs on Toramaran troops in other lands. He watched the commanders face harden further, and knew the man wouldnt flinch from the slaughter ahead. It was one thing for people to rebel against a king he didnt like, but for them to intend harm to his fellow soldier There will be no mercy, Walshira observed, as the mans eyes took on an angry glint. The king agreed with his deitys assessment. From the look on the mans face, there would be no mercy shown, no quarter given. All within the temple grounds would be within his hands before the sun rose in the morningor they would be dead. He sighed with satisfaction, then tensed. They were not alone. Someoneor somethingelse watched. That is all commander, he said, and waited until the commanders image had faded from before him. We are not alone, Master, he said. Someone watches. Walshira hissed with anger, extending his awareness to sense they were observed, but unable to sense by whom, or where they were located. He ascertained a direction and reached for their hidden observer, only to discover a swirling emptiness where their observer had been. He angrily sniffed the empty space, and detected a distinctive scent. Walshira laughed. Sweet, sweet Enshul, he chuckled. What makes you think you can watch me and remain untouched? Dont you realize the rewards I have set aside for you? Dont you realize how I crave the sweetness of your flesh after I have taken all those who are yours and you have no one left? He gave a happy sigh. That is when I will come for you. That is when I will take your spirit and everything left within your power to give. And that is when I will make you my body slave and give you such service that you will beg me for releaseand release of every kind, you will have. His laughter swelled as he summoned darkness to reflect her form, and taunted her with the slow movement of his hands across it, before tearing it apart and banishing it. He turned his back on the place shed been standing, and was still smiling as he re-focused on his king. She is of no importance, he said, But her presence has made me hungry. This night begs my interference, and I need all the sustenance you can summon. Bring the magelet you retrieved, and send soldiers to raze and sack Staravans remaining temple. All his priests will die, tonightsince it is clear the treachery in Wildejun has spread to the capital. It has? the king asked, and Walshira chuckled. That is what your soldiers believe, he replied. Do not tarry. I have much to achieve before dawn, and cannot afford to run short of the power to achieve it. 6鈥擮f Gods and Goddesses Enshul stood trembling in her garden. She had retreated as soon as the king had alerted his master they were not alone. It had been enough time for her to escape the Old Ones reach, but not soon enough to avoid discovery. She listened as his presence found her observation point. Ah, sweet Enshul, hed begun, and shed listened with anger and horrified disbelief at his promises and threat. She was trembling with rage and outrage by the time hed finished, and could not deny the fear that nibbled at her heart. He was not far from being able to carry out his promise, and while part of her doubted he had the power to do as hed promised, another part of her did not. Steeling herself to take one last look at the king, she strode back to the tall, narrow plinth of nightstone that stood just beyond the border of night-petaled roses beyond which shed retreated. Shed seen and heard all that had transpired in the kings courtyard, and watched as the king turned from the now-empty pool and began issuing orders. This cannot be, she breathed, as he ordered Staravans temple sacked. My father will hear of this! Your father will be most relieved to know that, said a deep, wind-touched voice behind her. Enshul started, pivoting to see who dared disturb her. When she did, she froze. A Messenger? The creature looked back at her. Lion bodied with a face of mixed human and feline features, it eyed her with a golden gaze. Its huge paws were planted firmly in her realm, but she got a sense it was both standing before her, and standing somewhere else. What brings you here? she asked it, and it gave her a dropped-jawed smile. To Enshul, it looked more like the Messenger was bearing its fangs, and she caught herself wondering what she had done to displease it and what it would demand by way of apology. The Pantheons Ruler wishes me to convey his displeasure at your absence from the Wildejun Meet. He also bids you come at once, rather than cause your priest any further suffering. My ex-priest, Enshul snarled, At my fathers request. The politics of young gods is not mine to comment on, the Messenger replied, and Enshul drew a sharp breath. The Messengers were older than the gods, and the current pantheons deities suspected it was because they had served the ones who had preceded themthe gods of elements and principles, whod been raised by their ancestors. And that makes them untouchable, she thought, for the Messengers had not chosen to rise and take their masters place, but to serve the newly raised gods who followedor so the stories went. As such they were sacrosanct, even to the demons. If a Messenger was harmed, the gods and demons banded together to put certain steps into effect. The offender was stripped of their power, but allowed to survivewhether they wanted to, or not. What message do you bring? Enshul demanded. The Messenger cocked its head, and she swore it looked amused. Your father, the Lord Staravan, sends his displeasure at your absence from the Wildejun Exchange. Your presence is required to release your priest into his keeping, and he bids you allow me to escort you to the gathering once this message is delivered. Raomar Filameth is no priest of mine, Enshul snarled, And my permission is already given. My presence is not required. My father can take him whenever he desires. The Messenger flared its wings, before folding them once more along its spine. Daughter of the gods, you know that is not how these things work, it said firmly. Your father requests you stand by your priest during his exchange, and instructs you to accompany me, now. Judging by the wrinkle of its brow, the creature clearly worried about her anger, but it was just as clear that a fear of her temper would not keep him from his errand. Enshul studied his face, then gave an abrupt nod. Lifting her chin, she stepped toward him. Let us go then, she commanded. We must not keep my father waiting. That last was delivered with a hint of mischief, but the Messenger caught the faint ripple of unease beneath her words, as well as the faint scent of fear, or distress, as she approached. Without asking the cause of either, he led her from her garden to the edge of her realm, and there he bent his foreleg and stretched a wing so that she could mount. Enshul accepted the offered step, and slid carefully onto his back, settling just behind his shoulders. As soon as he was sure she was securely balanced, the Messenger launched himself into the darkness that separated her realm from the others. It was akin to flying through a sea of ice, and nebulous clouds drifted past in multi-colored puffs. Looking around, Enshul noted the scarlet glow of the lands to which the elemental gods of fire were said to have retired. A sapphire gleam drew her eyes to the realms of the elemental gods of water, and she wondered if she might one day dare explore them. As far as she knew those lands were empty, yet, tonight, they seemed to glow with renewed lifeand looked like they were expanding. Unsure what that might mean, Enshul didnt let it distract her from the news she carried, that a dark god was rising and represented a threat to them all. Unaware of her thoughts, the Messenger took her silence as a request for silence of his own, carrying her, unspeaking, to the mortal plane. As worrying as her thoughts were, Enshul monitored their progress, and kept a watchful eye on their surroundings. Just because the darkness provided a barrier between the Floating Realms, there was no reason to believe it was emptyor safe from threat. She kept that sense of watchfulness as the Messenger glided through the barrier to land within the Wildejun temple proper. His claws clicked on the temples stone floor, bringing him to a halt behind Enshuls worried-looking priest. Seeing his fear that she would not come, and the way he held it at bay with a strong belief that she would not shame her order so, Enshul slid from the Messengers shoulders, and danced the few steps required to bring her to the mans back. Naravi, she whispered slipping her hands over his shoulders. Do not fear; I will not shame you. It was a lieor it had been, until shed seen Naravis shaking faith, and the desperate way he clung to the belief that his goddess would honor a priest whod served her faithfully and not force him into the service of another without a proper farewell, that she would not abandon him. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Stepping around him, she felt the weight of her fathers stare and glanced up to catch his eyes. He greeted that gesture with a stern stare, his lips compressed in a thin line of disapproval. She flicked her gaze to the gathered priests in a reminder they were not alone. It was a warning he heeded, if his almost imperceptible nod was anything to go by. The Messenger moved around her, making a brief bow before Staravan. You message was delivered and she has come, he informed the lord of gods, pausing before adding, And she brings important news. Staravan inclined his head in acknowledgement. Thank you for your service, he told it. We are honored by your gift of time. The Messenger bowed again, more deeply this time, and then it faded from view, phasing out of the mortal reality to the realm of the gods. My Lord. * * * From her hiding place beneath the brazier, Brianda studied the tall goddess whod come to stand behind Enshuls priest. She saw the deity dance forward and whisper something in the priests ear. She also saw the slight shiver that ran through the mans form, as the goddess finished speaking, and stepped past to confront her father. The look that passed between them spoke louder than the creature announcing her arrival. As it bowed and vanished, Enshul stepped forward. Father. Enshul, my daughter. I have news of the king. The goddesss words rippled through the room and the priests stilled. Tell on, Staravan instructed. The goddess bowed her head, and her reply was silent, but Brianda swore she felt the goddess speaking. It was the faintest sensation of noise within her head, with no discernible words or meaning, but she was sure it was Enshul relaying something of great import to her father. It wasunpleasant, scraping through her ears and setting her teeth on edge. She cowered back in her niche, covering her ears with her hands in an attempt to block the noise, but keeping her eyes on where the two deities faced each other. The unpleasant sensation continued, but still nothing of the goddesss news reached her. * * * The king has sent troops to sack this temple, Enshul stated, aware of the rogues curious gaze. Staravan showed no sign hed noticed Briandas attention when he replied, Are you sure? Enshul dipped her chin. I am sure. He is an ancient power, as we know, and he ordered the king to sack the temple and bring all within it to his temple for sacrifice. She paused as Staravans fists curled. He particularly desires the wizardess and her apprentices, but I could not divine why, she continued. He ordered they take all within the temple walls, and any who came to the temples defense." But, if the king is in Toramar, how did he speak with soldiers near enough to attack, tonight? Staravan asked. His deity gave him the ability to far speak to the captain leading his forces. They will be here by nightfall, Enshul told him. For true? Staravan asked, not really requiring a reply. Enshul responded, anyway. Father, he has ordered your temples in Toramar sacked. Your priests Will walk with me once their ordeal is over, Staravan answered firmly, although pain flitted briefly across his face. He took a deep breath, the rise and fall of his shoulders obvious to those gathered in the temple proper. We must complete this exchange quickly, then. The balance must be maintained. And the others agree? Enshul demanded. I must give him up? A quiver of disappointment ran through her tones, but the sharp nods from the other deities was a unanimous agreement she could not deny, and she momentarily sagged. Very well. Was there any other news? Staravan asked, his eyes saying hed registered her loss, but could do nothing to ease it. Yes. Enshuls face hardened with anger, as she remembered the Old Ones final orders to the king, and she tried to stop the memory before it reached the point where hed addressed her directly. Raising her eyes to meet her fathers gaze, she said, He ordered the wizardesss remaining apprentice brought to the temple for sacrifice. Her voice faltered, but Staravan reached out and lightly laid his palm against her cheek. It was a fleeting gesture but it was enough to enable her to continue. He ordered the sacrifice of all the priests from Toramars templestonight. He ordered the temples be razed and sacked. She stopped, interrupted by the memory of what came after, when the ancient deity had noticed her. Swallowing hard, she continued, He He threatened me, father. Stepping away from him she met his eyes with a fierce gaze. I will destroy him for that. And I will help you, Staravan promised, But first He indicated the waiting priests. * * * From her hiding place, Brianda watched the priests as they watched the goddess and her father. Whatever they discussed it infuriated and grieved them by turn, but when Staravan gestured toward her master, Enshuls voice rang clearly throughout the hall. I await the ceremonys start, my Lord. Raomar remained on his knees, his head bowed, but his body tense. If he feared what was about to happen, he didnt show it. At Enshuls words, Staravan inclined his head and stepped forward. As he moved, Enshul retreated to stand behind her priest, and the king of gods beckoned for his own priest to step forward. Raomar didnt move, but Brianda thought she saw him flinch, as the goddess passed. Staravan came to a halt before him, extending a hand in a silent offer of help. Rise, Raomar Filameth, he instructed. Stand before the gods who demanded your presence, and your removal from the service of the one you have ever-faithfully served. Raomar rose, trembling, his hood slipping from his head, revealing his beast elf features and blue-stained hair. A gasp rose from the priests nearest as they realized what he was, and several hands were raised to cast defensive spells. Steel rasped from one side of the hall, Kevarag! It was more a curse than a warning, and that combined with the sound of a blade being drawn had her uncurling, ready to leap to his defense. Enough! Staravans voice rolled through them like thunder laced with lightning, and the priests stilled, allowing the deity to fix the man whod drawn his sword with a commanding gaze. Brianda sank back on her heels, watching as the girl whod been transferred from Lurani to Skarsht, moved to block her companion and his blade. Be still, Skarsht ordered, and she froze, still facing her escort. The priests turned to watch them, as the gods spoke. Enough, Staravan repeated, his voice edged with fatigue. We have one handover more to complete, and then we must leave this place. Thats got their attention, Brianda thought, running her gaze over the crowd in an attempt to identify any threats to her master. She watched as the priests shifted their attention, moving uncertainly in their places. High Priest Ardors upraised hand stilled them. Hear the words of Staravan, he commanded. With a wry twist of his lips, the escort slammed his blade back into its sheath and stepped back, leaving his charge to observe from beside Skarsht and Lurani. The trio studied the kevarag priest and the god who stood before him. When Skarsht and Lurani moved to join the lord of gods and his daughter, the priestess followed, causing Enshuls brow to crease with puzzlement. The creases deepened as more deities clustered around them, Toronar, lord of discovery, and Adriel, the problem solver. What business do they have with my master, Brianda wondered, her eyes widening when another deity joined the cluster. What interest could the goddess of magic have with my master? If the king of gods wondered the same, he did not say, merely tilted his chin in greeting, and addressed the gathering. Before we begin, he stated, his voice ringing clear across the hall and waking the resting earth weird in the portico, I must warn you we have been betrayed. The king has told his soldiers this temple harbors rebels and traitors and sent them to take all in this temple and all who come to their aidand he has commanded the temple be razed to the ground. Gasps greeted this announcement, and Brianda took a long breath to keep the panic at bay and resist the urge to run. Instead, she looked to her master, not surprised to see Raomar still on his knees, and still waiting for his exchange. Staravan waited until the sounds of shock had died, before continuing, As soon as this exchange has taken place, I command you to flee. You are not to allow the townsfolk to aid you, for their lives are forfeit if they do. He looked around the gathering, meeting as many eyes as he could as though trying to impress their owners with the gravity of their situation. Obey me, he ordered. We will defend your escape, but you must leave. Already my servants in Toramar feel the wrath of the kings words. Already they defend themselves against the foe Raomar Filameth and his companions must defeat. He turned to his high priest. Begin the handover, he commanded, And do not tarry. 7鈥擣light and Terror As the high priests completed their parts, Raomar raised his head. Tears gleamed in his eyes as Staravans presence filled the empty void Enshul had left in her anger. Power and comfort flowed through him, soothing the hurt of her rejection, but leaving the sadness of their separation. For that, Raomar was grateful. There were some things not even the gods had a right to touch, some emotions best left for mortals to deal with in their own time and way. Thank you, my lord, he managed, his voice husky with emotion. He inclined his head to Enshul. My Lady His voice faded as he tried to find the words to express what he felt. When he found them and drew breath to say them, a shadow fell over the hall, and his voice died a second time. A darkness swept over them, one saturated with evil, and even the gods turned toward its source, disquiet in their eyes. As they did, Staravan groaned, his presence flickering in and out of phase. The shadow about them laughed. * * * The shadows laughter echoed through the kings temple in Deverath, and the king laughed with it. As High Priest Azdravan, he gestured to the ironbound doors that led from the cells to the temple sanctuary where the altar stood. They opened, and he laughed again. Bring me another! he commanded, and one of the creatures standing just inside the doors shambled into the corridor beyond. A dark-robed figure followed it, and he settled to watch for their arrival, feeling the anticipation of Walshira wash through him. From beyond the opening came the jangle of keys and the resounding thump as the door was flung open. A moan of terror followed, and then sounds of struggle as another of the newly arrived prisoners was dragged from their cell. The panic increased from struggle to a scuffle that echoed up and down the corridor until one of his priests grunted with effort and a whip crack was answered by a half-choked cry of pain. Walk! A moment of quiet followed, then another grunt, and stumbling footsteps after. The dark-robed priest and creature entered the sanctuary after a short interval, a yellow-robed priest staggering between them. Seeing his king waiting, the kings servant released the whip from its grip on the priests throat and gripped the mans arm instead. There, the king ordered, pointing at a pillar surrounded by a raised base. It was one of several evenly spaced pillars lining the temples walls, each one adorned by three sets of manacles, chains and shackles. As his servant turned the priest so his back was to the pillar, the creature gripped the mans throat and pinned him in place. He stumbled as he took the step upward, his eyes widening in panic as his feet caught on the gutter running the circumference of the base. Blood stained its edges, but that wasnt what caught his attention. Opposite him hung the priest whod preceded him, his remains flayed and gutted, his blood gleaming a rich dark red from around his feet. Seeing his fate, the priest moaned in terror, his struggles rattling the chains as the kings servant secured them around him. He struggled harder when the king turned to regard him with solemn eyes. Patience, the king soothed. Patience. You will not suffer alone. The priest tried to protest, but the creatures hand tightened, choking him to silence. The king turned away, clicking his fingers as he faced the iron doors once more. Bring them all, he commanded, lifting his voice so it carried down the halls beyond. Our master demands their terror before he feeds tonight. The chained priests shriek was no more than a croak, but the chains still rattled and Azdravan once more looked in his direction. The mans struggles renewed, and the high-priest-king tutted, moving swiftly to the pillar. The priest shuddered. Be still, the king soothed, laying gentle fingers on the mans cheek. There is nothing for you to fear. His body blocked the mans view of the pillar opposite, and Azdravan took the moment to capture his captives eyes with his own. Raising a hand in front of the mans face, he touched a fingertip to the center of the mans forehead, drawing it down his nose. There is nothing for you to fear, he promised. Rest now. There is peace upon you. Now, rest. The priests eyes closed, and did not open when the king gently patted his cheek. As soon as he sagged in his chains, Azdravan returned his attention to the iron doors, crossing the temple floor to stand before them. Above the chained priest, terror gathered, seeping from the priests mind into the pocket of space created for it. The king had not removed his fear, merely redirected it to where it could be stored until it was needed. While it was no longer felt, it was still present, and would return so that Walshira could drink his fill of it. When he reached the doorway, Azdravan raised his voice and hands in a chant. His lilting words rose and fell in an ancient rhythm that swelled and rolled down the corridor, flooding the cells that lined it. Heartbeats of time followed, but gradually all sounds of struggle ceased, and the fear-filled cries stilled. Feeling his spell take hold, the king lowered his hands. Come! he ordered, and the shuffle of obedient footsteps followed. Watching them emerge from their cells, walking in terrified calm beside his priests, the king stepped back from the door. None of them spared him a second glance as they passed, allowing themselves to be gently guided onto the pedestals at the pillars feet. Not a single one of them protested as Walshiras priests chained them in place. The king watched, observing the pockets of their unfelt fear float above them, before starting the chant again. It might be tiring, but it was worth the expenditure to have his sacrifices prepped and ready in a fraction of the time it would otherwise have taken. He held the spell as long as it took for his priests to make sure of their bonds, then let it fade. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Begin the ceremony, he ordered when his priests had gathered before him. I will fetch the apprentice. His servants inclined their heads, and moved to take their positions around the sanctuary center. All knew their role, having practiced it many times over. Soon he would select one to grace Walshiras altar of transformation so they could serve his master better. The one with the most to lose from life, he decided, wondering which that would be, and knowing the more they lost, the better the transformations results, since bitterness would lend the spell more power. I will need to see what my researchers have uncovered. The apprentice would be tonights last sacrifice, since only she had the necessary reservoir of power the Old One required, and it was her spirit that would strengthen Walshiras reserves more than any single priestly soul tonight. Those were necessary to provide the mass energy of their suffering, and for the potential their destruction held to weaken the lord of gods. Glancing back as he passed the altar and entered the small room beyond it, the king surveyed the crowded pillars and smiled. The apprentice waited, and she knew he was coming. She knew the agony of her fate, too. He had made sure of that. * * * Azdravan was correct in thinking the apprentice waited, and he was right to think she feared. The cell had been placed near the temples sanctuary for a reason, containing a chain-wreathed seat placed before the slit window that provided an all-too-clear view of the altar. Xanthia had seen much in the days since shed been taken, and the altar had flowed full and fuller than usual. Seeing the king walk past it, she shuddered and began her plea, again. Oh Sophriel, she whispered. Lady of Magic Divine, hear me now Air moved around her, but it stank of the temple and the darkness saturating it. Silencing her words, she continued her prayer in her mind. The king was coming again. Xanthia wondered what hed say to her this time, what death hed offer, what pleasures hed promise at his own hand She shuddered, again. Most of the time, he spoke on his own behalf, but sometimes she felt the presence of his god, an ancient being so steeped in evil her soul wanted to flee her body before it could be found. How can anyone serve something like that? she wondered. She flinched as the door to her cell opened, and footsteps stopped on the threshold. She flinched again when he spoke. Greetings, little maid. She rose to her feet and turned to face him, fear racing through her at the sight of the long, dark robes he wore. They were a sure sign the temple would be busy, tonight. He stepped toward her, and she forced herself to hold her ground. She was holding it well, when he lashed out and wrapped one hand around her bicep. Tonight, you will hear the screams, again, he told her, But you wont be forced to watch. Relief surged through her at his words, but fear swiftly followed. For him to offer such a reprieve meant only one thing. Seeing the look on her face, the king smiled. Tonight, he promised, seizing her other arm and yanking her against his chest. Tonight, my dear, the last of those screams will be your own. Xanthia felt her skin cool as shock rolled over her. No She hadnt meant to speak, but the denial leaked out in a whisper. She had known the time would come, but had hoped She had hoped her mistress would return for her before it. Where had her mistress gone? Why hadnt she come? In her heart, she knew Alessia wouldnt be coming back, that there was no way her mistress would be able to kick free of the kings pursuit in time, but the reality A sob ripped through her, and the king drew her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her as though in comfort. His voice rose and fell in an all-too-familiar chant, and her fear lifted. There, now, Azdravan said comfortingly. There you go. Theres nothing for you to fear. He released her slowly, sliding a gauntleted hand down to take hers. Come, little maid, he invited. Id like to show you something. Xanthia followed the draw of his hand, letting him lead her into the short corridor outside and then out into the temple sanctuary. The sight of the altar didnt scare her, nor did the view of the priest-bedecked pillars set around the walls. The charnel stench of the temple servants flanking the altar didnt make her heart race faster, and nor did the memory of what shed seen them do before. She gave a squeak of surprise when Azdravan swung her into his arms and sat her on the altar top. "Stretch out for me," he instructed. Youll enjoy this. Xanthia frowned, sure that somewhere a small part of her was screaming and urging her to run. But where to? she wondered, eyeing the temple and its attendant priests, undead servitors and guards. I wouldnt get very far. She knew that fact alone should terrify her, but didnt feel a thing. Instead, she stretched out on the altar top, and let the dark-robed priest chain her ankles and wrists to the altar corners and strip her robes from her body by the simple expedient of cutting them away. Like every other captive waiting Walshiras pleasure, she waited, wondering at her surroundings and her lack of fearright up until the king spoke the words that broke the spell holding their terror from them. Let the ceremony begin. At his servants signal, Walshira lifted the defenses from around the temple and prepared to receive the strength he needed. At that moment, as her terror crashed around her, Xanthia sensed them go and lifted her mind and voice in one great cry. SOPHRIEL! She managed it only once, before one of the undead horrors shambled to her side and laid its rotting hand across her mouth. Once was enough. * * * In Wildejun, the gods avatars were fading, but the gods presence was strengthening. The shadow lifted, forced back by their combined will, and as it did, the priests learned to breathe, again. Staravans high priest heard one final command from his god before Staravans manifestation disappeared. Hurry! Brethren, Jasrian began, raising his voice to be heard above the murmurs growing in volume around him. He ignored the kevarag priest standing beside him, focusing instead on those gathered around the dais. Brethren! Some glanced toward him, and encouraged, he continued. You know the ways from the temple. You know where we will be met. Be swift. Do not panic. The gods will protect us. The murmurs became louder and more confident as the priests moved purposefully toward the exits. Only one took the entrance into the atrium. His terrified shriek drew the attention of those closest the doors and they promptly slammed those doors shut, the suddenly-stilled gurgles of their companion witness to the wisdom of their action. The earth weird had claimed its first victim, and the doors would not hold for long. Knowing Raomar stood beside him, Jasrian turned. You must go, he said. There is a window outside the wizardesss quarters. Take that, and any who wish to go with you. The priests know where to meet. He paused, clasping the kevarags shoulder and shaking him gently. You He sighed. Staravan will guide you, but you must head upstream along the Wildejun. He squeezed Raomars shoulder, then released him. Go. And may the gods be with you. You will be in my prayers. Raomar managed a short bow in return, then pivoted to do as he was bid. He caught sight of Brianda in her hiding place as he did so. Hurry! he told her, not fazed by her presence. We have to fetch the others. She scooted out from beneath the brazier and hurried to join him. The high priest opened a door at the rear of the dais and beckoned for them to go through. As they obeyed, he waved at a young girl in the robes of an acolyte to attend him. She had been standing beside the niche containing the brazier in which Brianda had hidden, and still looked perturbed by the half-elfs sudden appearance. Father? she asked, glancing at the open door through which Raomar and the half elf had disappeared. She waited as Jasrian waved at the newly-exchanged priestess of Skarsht and her escort. This is Linna, he said, when they hurried over. Take her and her escort to the docks through the mirrored way, then go hide with the fishermen. They will protect you. Do as they say. Someone will come for you, and Staravan will not forget your care. The girl nodded hurriedly. Yes, Father. She waited until the priestess and her companion looked toward her, then gestured for them to follow. This way please. 8鈥擭ight Flight Captain Reuven Suran directed his troops through Wildejuns main gate. A few words and a single glance at his uniform had been all it had taken to convince the man to have the gates opened to let them pass. Fool, he thought. No thought for identification. No thought to look beyond the uniforms. No request for our orders He allowed the thought to trail off, realizing he was muttering to himself. His lieutenant looked at him strangely. The temple is this way, sir, the man said. Their captain has sent a man to guide us. He was referring to the towns captain, and Reuven silently cursed the mans trusting nature. How did he make it this far? he wondered, since a fool was often short-lived in a frontier town. Maybe he hasnt been here that long. Still, that trust worked to their advantage. Tell him we need to converge on the temple from multiple directions, he snapped. We need more than one guide. His lieutenant nodded, turning back to the guardhouse. Reuven waited, surveying the darkening streets and the fishing boats returning to the rivers mouth on the evening tide. He hoped their catch had been a good one. That way theyd be too busy to interfere with what he was about to do. Another boat drew his gaze to the rivers mouth. It stood off from the fishing boats. Reuven squinted against the darkness in an attempt to get a better look at it. It was more than just a boat, being bigger than the fishing boats, but the wrong configuration for one of the river passenger ships. It was too small to be an ocean-going merchantmanand its lines were too sleek. He wrinkled his nose against the scent of mud and silt as the water boiled and mingled where the Wildejun River poured into the Tonaril, a larger body of water that flowed into the sea. If not a passenger vessel or a sea-going merchantman, was it a pleasure boat? Some noblemans private transportand whose? Or maybe it was a smuggler? Studying it a moment longer, Reuven noted it was of medium size, black-hulled and built for speed. Sails reflected the dying sun in muted colors on its masts, and he wondered if there was a name painted on its hull. Its too dark to tell, he thought in frustration, his thoughts interrupted by the sound of boots on the cobbles behind him. Anticipating his lieutenants return, Reuven pivoted toward them. As soon as the man saw he had Reuvens attention, he spoke. Reinforcements will take care of the temples rear and side walls, the man informed him. The town captain was quite adamant. He assures you there will be no one who escapes his net. He refused my request? Reuven demanded, sensing something amiss. He said he could spare us the one man, and no more, the lieutenant confirmed. And his net? Reuven challenged. He has patrols in those areas, regardless, the man replied. Which means he couldnt spare them if he wanted to, Reuven realized. Or he didnt want to. Still feeling that something was wrong, Reuven frowned. He couldnt challenge the captains duplicity without causing resentment in his own men. The lieutenant shifted uncomfortably. What is it? Reuven demanded. The captain said hed send an extra watch to the waterfront to make sure no one made it to the fishing boats when they come in. And where did he say hed find the men for that? Reuven challenged. He was rousing the day watch when I left, the lieutenant answered, and Reuven relaxed a little. Perhaps it is not treachery, but truly the reality of manning, he thought, returning his attention to the bay. Have the men ready to move as soon as our guide arrives. He didnt give the lieutenant a second glance, but continued his surveillance of the bay and the intervening town. As he did, he caught a flash of movement and pivoted to take a closer look at where hed seen it. Nothing. Still scowling, he took a step toward the building. He was sure Captain? Swearing softly under his breath, Reuven stopped and turned back. Our guide is here. * * * In the shadows toward which hed been moving, a tall man-shaped shadow carefully relaxed. The lieutenants words hid the soft scrape of cloth as he moved a little closer, watching the troops being martialed. He was on the trail of somethingsomeone hed not known existed until a few nights ago, someone whose existence hed only discovered when Fianrei, Lady of Light, had revealed it as the reason for her refusing his service. And her refusal had meant he could not go from being kings assassin in service to Elira, Lady of Shadow to kings advisor, as Fianreis servant, which was not as his king desired. Instead, he had to care for his endangered child before he could move forwardand that, too, had worked in the kings favor. Although, until now, I didnt know she existed to become endangered, he thought speaking a simple spell to allow him to hear the captain of the newly arrived soldiers as he declared the temple their destination and prey. Taking a breath to bring the tension under control, he eased back into the sheltering darkness and waited for the soldiers to move out. Keeping low and turning his face earthward as they passed, he raised his gaze enough to watch them. Not a single one of them glanced in his direction, not even the captain whod seemed to see him, before. As soon as they were past, he moved out of his crouch and trotted quickly down the alley. He knew he could reach the temple before them, could warn the priests, could He hesitated. There were other considerations, responsibilities he had to see completed, and his continued service to Elira had worked to his kings interests, in spite of his disappointment. Rumors had arrived on the tail of Fianreis rejection, that a dark power rose in Toramars capital, that the lands king had been suborned, that the human pantheon was under attack from one older than themselves. Fianrei and Elira wanted the truth of those rumors known. His king wanted the truth of Toramars growing instability and potential fall to darkness clarified. Well, I can do the second, Terinor decided, addressing himself softly. Now, for the first He could beat the soldiers if he ran the streets, but with the city on alert hed be running the risk of falling into their hands. Foolish, he decided, When I know a better way. There was a secret path into Staravans temple, although why the lord of the human deities tolerated it, Terinor didnt know. I hope the reason is worth it. The priest had called it The Mirrored Way, and thered been a hidden entry in Terinor racked his brains, slowing his pace as he approached an intersection. There was a puba dockside tavern Glancing up, he took a deep breath, his nose wrinkling in response to the smell of stale piss and rotten fruit. The smell of salt and old fish rising from the direction of the docks wasnt much better, but at least it gave him a direction to go in. Taking a leftward turn, Terinor continued picking at the problem. Now what was it called, exactly? Because there were two or three drinking establishments at the quayside, none of them particularly reputable. And what would a priest be doing drinking in one of those? Shoving the reason aside as not important, right now, Terinor kept moving, cautiously now he remembered the patrols that kept watch on the docks. The temple entrance was through the mirror in the high priests bedrooms, hence the routes name. And theres no way he doesnt know about it, Terinor concluded, given he is aware of the paths existence. Stolen story; please report. He wondered what it would be like to serve a deity who didnt keep his people in the dark, and then snorted softly to himself. Who am I kidding? Thats the kind of secret any deity keeps to themselves until its needed. He came to an abrupt halt at the mouth of the alley hed been following. Ahead of him, across the cobbles of the wharfside road, was the river, its water capped with white as its waters melded with the even greater river flowing past its mouth. The fishing boats skirted the maelstroms edges with care as they returned. Not even a once-in-a-decade phenomena was allowed to interfere with their need for a living. As it shouldnt, Terinor decided, looking up and down the street. A wooden sign swinging gently in the night breeze, caught his eye. Thick, black lines portrayed a tankard adorned by a curving fang, and memory returned. Terinor smiled. The Cats Tooth, he recalled, and stepped out of the alley, straightening his clothes like he was emerging from some necessary private time. The action gave him enough time to survey the docks and street, once more. Seeing they were still clear, Terinor straightened his tunic, again, then strode purposefully toward the pub. * * * In the meantime, Henna trotted quickly through the temple halls, the newly-exchange priestess and her guardian following close on her heels. She took them unerringly through the high priests sleeping chambers, passing the canopied wooden bed and its attendant dressers without a second glance. Shed cleaned his chambers for the past year, and helped his wife with whatever tasks she needed, and it had been a privilege. Part of that had also been knowing what part of the border around the outsized mirror at the end of the room should be left alone. The Mirrored Way, named for its temple entry point, was a closely held secret. That the high priest had asked her to show it to two strangers, and then told her to hide with the fishermen, meant something terrible was coming. Shed caught a glimpse of the creature in the atrium, and caught the stench of decayed leaves and flesh that rolled out before theyd closed the doors, and her hand shook as she depressed the leaves that would open the way. She hoped the high priest escaped, tooand that she could find him after. How would she learn how to serve Staravan is she did not? Go, she ordered, gesturing them through and glancing back as another scream drifted to them from the temple proper. Come, the man urged, reaching a hand toward her. You cant help them, and the high priest needs to know you are safe. Hearing the truth in his words, Henna obeyed, a lump forming in her throat. Swallowing to clear it, she passed beyond the mirror, then turned and closed it firmly behind them. If others had followed, they would either find the passage, or make their escape over the high priests balcony. Either way, the stranger was right. The high priest wanted her safe, and she could only come back to keep the temple for his return if she stayed that way. I should not leave it open, she explained as the mirror clicked into place. Squeezing around them, she motioned for them to follow, This way. She wasnt aware of the look of amused consternation the warrior gave her, and wouldnt have cared if shed seen it. The high priest had given her a charge and she was determined to keep it. She didnt care if the man was three times her height, and wore chain mail and leather greaves. She didnt care if his blue eyes held a gimlet gleam. She would not be swayed. Having determined that, she increased her pace, giving them no choice but to keep up. * * * Behind her, the warrior raised an eyebrow at her determination. If he was honest, he was torn. Part of him wanted to lead, and thus face any danger ahead before them. The other part of him acknowledged that not only was the danger behind them, but the girl knew the path ahead, and he did not. And as for Linna Well, the priestess would walk where she wanted, and it would probably be best if he let her. What is it with the women who choose serving a deity as their vocation? he wondered, then shook his head. Later, maybe, Ill ask her. In the end, she chose to walk at his side, and he felt strangely happy with the arrangement. He shook his head at that, too, and focused on keeping up with the acolyte. For someone with such a short stature, the child moved fast. She led them along a corridor lit by a soft enchanted light. Noting its source, Tarquin saw there were stones set in the wall at waist height. Set several feet apart, they shone with magic. The acolyte ignored them, too, although whether that was because of expedience or familiarity, he couldnt tell. And now is not the time to ask, he decided, lengthening his stride to keep up. Time seemed to stand still, and each foot of corridor looked the same as the last. Nothing changed, and no sound came to them from beyond the passage walls. Only the beat of their own footsteps reached their ears. Part way along the corridor, Linna took his hand. Surprised, he almost rejected her soft grasp, but then realized what it was. Accepting her grip, Tarquin wrapped his hand around hers, content to walk forever if she was going to walk beside him. The corridor morphed to a set of stone stairs, and Henna signaled they should wait, while she crept up them. After a few heartbeats, she descended to where they could see her, and signaled they should follow. They did so without saying a word, stopping a few steps below her when she came to a solid stone wall. There, she spoke a single word, and the wall rippled to reveal a narrow alley rank with refuse and urine. Something rat-like scurried hurriedly away from their emergence, and a cat hissed and spat from the opposite side of the street before bolting up a rickety set of wooden stairs. Tarquin followed its progress, and saw no threat on the tiny landing above. He also saw no threat in the shadowed dark waiting to greet them. Turn right and keep going until you reach the main street, then left and keep going until you get to the end. It leads straight to the forest. The high priest said to keep going and head south. She laid her palm on Tarquins hand. He said hed get word to your brother and tell him to sail immediately. He said She stopped long enough to catch her breath in a short gasp. Taking another, she continued, He said the danger was great for you all. Tarquin nodded, but Linna reached out and gently clasped the girls shoulder. Thank you, she said, then indicated the docks. Now, go, get to the fishing boats while you can. The girl hesitated, then nodded, her eyes dark pools against the pallor of her cheeks. When she didnt immediately start moving, Linna gave her a gentle push. Go, the priestess urged. Well all be safer when weve done as the high priest asked. She did not add that the high priest was still in the temple and might never emerge, but the thought hung there between them, vanishing as the acolyte spun on her heel and ran for the docks. Tarquin waited until the girls footsteps had faded to nothing, and the alley mouth remained empty, and then led the way in her wake. When they reached the dockside street, it lay silent and empty, devoid of the life it had held earlier in the day. Tarquin moved to the alley mouth and peered carefully around. The tavern signs still hung over the boardwalk bordering the road, and the shop awnings flapped gently in the breeze. Beyond the road, the rivers clashed and melded in a muted roar. Ignoring river, signs, and awnings, Tarquin turned left and lengthened his stride, Linna moving swiftly beside him. They had almost reached the beckoning safety of the forest, when they heard the sound of quick-marching boots striking the cobbles behind them. Neither of them looked back, and both resisted the urge to break into a run. It was hard, especially when the sound grew louder behind them. There was nowhere to run, since theyd left the last side street behind them, and with it the shop awnings and their shadows, so they had nowhere to hide save the trees aheadif they could reach them. They both tensed, but kept walking. The shout, when it came made them both jump. You two! Tarquins stride hitched and he thought about making a break for the trees. Not without seeing how theyre armed, he decided. Last thing either of us needs is a crossbow bolt in the back. If they only held swords, he might chance it, but not if they had crossbows locked and loaded. He sighed, and turned slowly to face them, tucking Linna under his arm as he did so. If he was lucky, theyd be mistaken for a couple out for an evening stroll. Unlikely, he decided. Yes? The head of the patrol took two steps forward. Stay where you are, he directed. Youre under arrest. The man sounded young and inexperienced to Tarquin. On what charges? he challenged. High treason and subversion, the patrol leader replied, beginning to move closer. For taking a romantic stroll to the woods? Tarquin asked, letting his tone tell the man how stupid that sounded. For having come from the Temple of Staravan, the man retorted. An arm around the priestess youve been escorting doesnt make her your lover. Tarquin took his arm from around Linnas shoulders and tucked her behind him. He didnt like it when she moved slightly to one side to give herself line of sight. It put her in line of sight of the patrolmen, and while their crossbows werent raised, they had them. Our attendance at the temple was priestly business, Tarquin argued. We have no interest in treason. That is not what weve been told, the patrol leader retorted, and thrust a hand toward them. Seize them. His inexperience showed as he bolted forward to carry out his own order, instead of ordering his men to their bows. Its not like theyd try to bring a traitor in alive, Tarquin thought, unless theres something else afoot. He pivoted, grabbed Linna by the arm and towed her around. Run! he ordered, harsh-voiced with worry. The trees might only be a block away, but theyd allowed the patrol within ten feet. Not my smartest move. Hoping he could run faster than any of the men behind them, and that none of them thought to go for their bows, he raced for the forests edge, the space between his shoulder blades itching in anticipation of a bolt in the back. He neednt have worried about her falling behind. The woman could run! And her grip on his hand was like a vice. The sound of footsteps grew louder behind them, and it looked like as fast as they were, there were soldiers who were faster still. He sucked in another breath, listening to their pursuit and trying to gauge when he needed to let go of Linnas hand and prepare to fight. Hed almost decided it was time, when a shape materialized before them. Tarquin dropped Linnas hand and drew his blade pivoting to keep himself between the priestess, the new arrival, and the patrol. He heard Linnas voice raised in prayer beside him, but didnt look to see if shed closed her eyes. Shes not that stupid, he reassured himself. Follow me. I will aid you, was not what he was expecting to hear from the newly arrived stranger. To give the priestess her due, when he decided to trust the slender hope the stranger offered, the priestess followed without hesitation. Maybe she got word from her god. Light from a watch lantern swiped the strangers face, and he caught the impression of narrow features, pointed ears, and long hair held back by warriors braids. It was almost enough to make him stop, but strange elf or hunting human wasnt much of a choice. He followed the elf, and hoped he hadnt doomed them to a worse fate than the one waiting with the Watch. They turned into the narrow gap between two houses, the strange elf flattening himself against a weatherboard wall and signaling them past. Given it would give them one more thing between them and a crossbow bolt, Tarquin obeyed, reaching out to reclaim the priestesss hand and tow her with him. A second instruction followed them past. Stop before you get to the end. He nodded in acknowledgement, not caring that the elf wouldnt see it. Magic rose in a quiet chant behind them, its tones soft and beguiling, inviting him to listen further. He shook its influence away, glad it wasnt directed toward him I might not have been able to resist it, otherwise. Magic flowed away from them as they reached the other end of the gap, and they halted. Seconds later, the elf brushed by them. This way, he instructed. I know a place. Tarquin wanted to ask what hed done, and how long they had before the patrol resumed its pursuit, but he didnt dare. Instead, he followed the elf as he took them along the rear of the last few houses before the forests edge. There, he waited. Come, he urged, when Tarquin hesitated. We have little time. Tarquin followed, but halted a few feet into the shadows. What stake do you have in this? he demanded, pulling Linna close. The elf watched the movement with a look of impatience. I have questions that need answering, he replied abruptly, and turned away. Now, come. He didnt look back to see if they obeyed, but led them deeper into the woods, threading his way through thick clusters of bushes and letting the trees close behind them. It was only when they heard movement ahead, that he called a halt. They shrank into crouches, their ears straining at the night. The sound came again, movement slightly ahead, but closer to the river bank. The elf rose, stooping slightly as he turned toward it. Stay here, he ordered. Ill see what that is. 9鈥擣ound鈥?nd Left, Again Terinor cursed his luck at finding the fleeing pairand in such danger. Still, he couldnt find it in himself to abandon them to the watch patrol. Whatever was happening in Wildejun, it was connected to the gods, and thus to the king. The presence of the kings guard attested to that. Instead, hed gotten them away from the Watch, figuring that entity, at least, had to be connected to the king. Or dupes, he reminded himself. They could always be that. If the king hasnt revealed his hand Anger surged briefly through him as he remembered other reports detailing how Toramar had turned offers of aid into conquests, and the terrible deeds that followed in its armies wakes. There has to be a reason, he mused, knowing Okreidors king wasnt going to endanger close friends and valuable diplomats in finding out. In addition to the reports of armed aid turning into conquering forces, there had been stories of assassins, mysterious illnesses, and unexplained hordes. Silently approaching the source of the noise that had halted their flight, Terinor tried to push the thought away. It seemed Toramar was no longer the reliable source of mercenaries it had once been. Forcing his attention to the task at hand, he crept forward, refocusing his eyes so he had night vision to rival any cats. Ahead of him, the group had stopped. Ducking into a crouch and weaving quietly through the bushes, he moved forward until he could see the group. The faint brush of leaves against his clothes made him wince, and he worried that the pungent smell of the herbs hed crushed beneath his boots might reach them. It cant be helped, he thought, settling into a crouch and taking a long, careful look at them. What he saw made his blood run cold, and he dropped his hand to his dagger. Kevarag! he thought, taking a long slow breath and forcing himself to study the beast-elfs companions. A humanhalf-elvenchild clung close to the kevarags side. Every now and then, shed glance anxiously up at him, and then scan their surroundings. Sharp, he thought, studying her. And half-kevarag herself given the color of her skin and eyes. I wonder if she knows He stifled the urge to snort at that. Of course, the child knew. Shed have little choice, given how people reacted to the kevarag. Is he her father? he wondered, then forced himself to move his attention to the person hovering protectively behind the pair. A Northlander? Well, isnt that interesting. He relaxed slightly. The Northmen didnt give either their allegiance of protection lightly, and never to one without honor. Which explains why he is so far from his homeland, Terinor mused, returning to briefly regard the kevarag again. And given hes priest to a human deity, I can understand why. The kevarag shifted, his gaze sweeping the forest and passing over Terinors hiding place. At least I did not come to them openly, he thought, not at all sure his hiding place had saved him from detection. The rest of the group consisted of a small human male, standing in wary defiance as he followed the kevarags gaze. He seemed blissfully ignorant of the two young women flanking him. Like mothers with their cub, Terinor thought. Though that wouldnt save him, if Id meant him harm, or their mistress, either. His gaze shifted to the red-headed wizardess, and he frowned. The woman was plucking at the threads of magic surrounding her, and weaving and releasing each set of strands into a pattern of readiness that she unraveled before it could come to fruition. As he studied her movements and their results, he saw the boy casually reach out and pluck a thread from her current pattern. The childs gaze was still on the forest, and he didnt look like he was paying attention to what he was doing. The sight sent a tremor of unease through him, even as he marveled at the sheer talent on display. A wizardess with an apprentice of frightening ability, he noted. I must seek them out when my mission is over. So you dont mean us any harm, then? The voice slid unbidden into his mind, and he froze. Apprehension ran through him, and the dark-haired girl in the clearing lifted her chin, turning her gaze toward him. Knowing he was screened by leaves gave him no comfort as she flexed her fingers. Shed cast on me? he thought, mildly alarmed, but also amused. But she doesnt know Answer me! she ordered, mind-to-mind, Or I will tell them where you are hiding. As if the direction of her gaze isnt enough, he thought with chagrin, not daring to move. And where is that? he challenged, and she winced. Her answer came in the slightest movement of her hand, which he was relieved to see she kept at her side, and out of the kevarags notice. Out of most of their notice, he amended, relieved. Beneath that bush, her mind-voice replied. Terinor forced himself to remain still, and not heave a sigh of defeat. He also made sure he kept his eyes on the girl and not bow his head. I mean you no harm, he sent, and saw her wince again. You neednt shout, she protested. I could hear you quite clearly as you were before. When I wasnt projecting, Terinor thought, And when I was trying to keep my thoughts to myself. Exactly, she told him, not bothering to hide the depth of her intrusion. Sorry, he apologized, letting himself think it clearly but not trying to project it. Mental magic wasnt something hed ever thought to make his own. Thats better, she replied. So, if you mean us no harm, why are hiding and spying on us? The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. I was making sure you posed no threat to those under my protection, he told her, deciding honesty was the best policy. As he mind-spoke, an image of Linna and Tarquin rose to memory, and he wondered if he should hide it. Deciding it would do him no good, if he did, he let it hang there, well aware she was studying it. The image, however, reminded him of his situation. And, now, I must return to them, he said. We must put more distance between ourselves and the town. As must we, the girl told him, and turned to her companions. Terinor tensed, preparing to either fight or flee as needed. There is no danger, the girl stated, her voice low and clear, but still enough to startle her companions. She did not flinch when the kevarag pivoted abruptly to face her. How do you know? he demanded. Because I have just been speaking with him. He stopped to make sure we posed no threat to Skarshts new priest and her guardian, since he has only just rescued them from the Watch. Terinor stared at her in horror, well aware she could not see his expression. How much more did you take from my mind? he wondered, and she smiled. No! If she heard his denial, or the plea within it, she gave no sign, but added, His name is Terinor. Terinor tensed, bowing his head and hunching in on himself as he anticipated the worst. To his relief, she stopped, hesitating as though she sensed his heartfelt fear she would reveal his true identity. He will seek us out, later, when he has made sure the priestess and her companion are safely on their way. She turned as though to urge the group to continue their journey, but was interrupted by a new voice. This one was young and female, and came from someone Terinor couldnt see. Terinor? the woman asked, emerging from the other side of the clearing. Did he give you more of his name? Again, the woman hesitated, and he was sure he felt her mind brush over his, uncovering his desire that she let him remain anonymous. No, she replied, after a moment, but the hesitation had been enough. Tell me, the newcomer insisted, and he raised his head, taking note of her half-elven features, and feeling the sudden stab of regret. I cannot tell you, the mind mage replied, Because he did not give me his name to start with. I took it without his permission. This roused the red-haired wizardess. You what? she demanded. The young mind mage opened her mouth to answer, but the kevarag interrupted her before she could speak a word. Enough. We dont have the time, he instructed. It is enough to know he intends us no harm, and has business of his own to attend to. He scanned the undergrowth in which Terinor hid, and smiled. We must go, he added, and Terinor wasnt sure if that was meant for the newly arrived half elf or him until he continued, I look forward to meeting you, Terinor Thorn. The mind mage winced. I didnt she whispered, and Terinor brushed her apology away. I know. He took the kevarags words as a signal that he should leave, and eased himself back, until he was sure he was out of range of their sight. As he did, he heard the half-elfs voice raised in question. Thorn, Master? Are you sure? It hurt to hear the excitement and hope that edged her words, but Terinor didnt turn back. Im sorry, child, he murmured. Again. The kevarags reply gave him no comfort, either. No, Brianda. It was just a guess. But You will be able to ask him yourself when he returns. Terinor halted beside the solid trunk of a tree he didnt recognize, and listened as the group behind him began to move. He thought he heard the kevarags soft steps moving away, followed by the heavier tread of the Northman. The child will move with them, he thought, remembering the half-kevarag girl and not surprised he couldnt hear her. And she will move like a ghost. But, Master There was pain in the half-elf womans voice, and it tore at Terinors heart. He swallowed hard, hearing tones of steel in the kevarags reply. Enough! We havent time to wait, and his path takes a different direction to our own. He will come for you. So he knows, Terinor thought, creeping a little closer as he failed to resist the need to look on his daughter one more time. Rather than brave the intervening bushes once more, he took to the nearest tree, securing a vantage point on the rough-barked surface of its lowest branch. As he moved along it to get a better look at the girl, the kevarag spoke again. Grunwol. Well need your stone, he instructed, then raised his voice. Assassin. Wizard light. Terinor closed his eyes, glad of the warning as a magical brilliance of a quickly shielded light flared beyond the protection of his quickly bowed head. That would have hurt, he mused, cautiously opening his eyes and seeking out the slender form of the half-elven woman. Brianda. He sighed. To be so close and Clenching his jaw, Terinor stayed in his tree, watching the small group as they wound their way deeper into the forest. Theyre heading west, he noted, storing the information for future reference. And so will I once this is done. * * * The kings assassin was not the only one to be following the kevarag and his group, and his intrusion had only made them all the more alert. There were things afoot that could see their downfall, and the beast-elf priest was determined to avoid them all. As Terinor and his charges fled further south, Raomar Filameth, newly made priest to Staravan and member of a race reviled, sensed something following. Rather than stop, he dropped his hand to the flap covering the small crossbow he carried concealed in a pouch on his belt. As subtle as it was, the movement didnt go unnoticed, and the mind mage sidled over. Let me see if I can sense them, she whispered, and he gave her a small nod. Taking it as permission, she let her magic drift away, seeking another mind to touch. When she found it, her heart lifted with unceremonious joy, and she slapped her hand over the kevarags. Dont, she instructed. He means us no harm. The feel of the Northman looming behind her was not enough to get her to remove her hand, and nor was the kevarag twitching his trapped hand in an attempt to dislodge her grip. Then get him to show himself, he said, in a low-voiced snarl, Or I will shoot the first unusual thing I see. Ruranith, the mind mage sent. This is Sindra. Master Raomar is on edge and asks you show yourself quickly if you dont want any arrows in your hide. She almost sobbed with relief when the mage replied. Tell him I am coming out of the tree to his left, and give him my apologies. It was the way his hand dropped to that pouch that made me hesitate. You are not the first weve encountered, tonight, Sindra told him. Now, show yourself. Ill tell him youre coming. You remember Ruranith, dont you? she asked, indicating the area the mage had said hed appear. Hes coming out of a tree to your left. Please, dont shoot him. Very well, Raomar agreed, and slid his hand out from under hers, before lifting it away from the pouch. No sooner had he done so than there was a rustle of branches, a snap of twigs, and a brush of leaves, and the young mage dropped out of a tree to land beside the trail. His feet had barely hit the ground before the Northman had him by the throat and was lifting him from it. Identity yourself, growled softly onto the evening air, as the barbarian flexed his fingers. The wizard wrapped his hands around the Northmans wrist, trying to reply. When only choking sounds emerged, the barbarian loosened his hold. Ruranith, he stuttered. You know me. We met. Back at the temple. Remember? The Northman held him a moment longer, studying his face intently. Recognition flashed in his eyes, and he gently let the man go. What brings you here? Raomar demanded. You do, Ruranith shot back. That and High Priest Ardor sent me to guide you. I came upon him as he was leaving the temple and he said you would need a guide. His eyes flicked to Zarine, and he blushed. And And here I am. He instructed us to move upstream, Raomar said shortly. Yes, yes he did, Ruranith agreed, And I will take you that way until the gods say otherwise. Raomar held his gaze, reading the truth there, before gesturing him forward. Ruranith inclined his head in acknowledgement, shot the barbarian a worried glance, then move to take the lead. Sindra dropped back to walk beside Alessia, worried by her mistresss pale-faced silence, and concerned for the casual way Varan collected magic from the air and released it, again. She was surprised when Zarine, brushed past her and then the guildmaster and his guard to take her place beside the newly arrived wizard. She wouldnt, she thought, watching her fellow-apprentice settle into stride beside the man. She really didnt Glancing at Alessia to see if their mistress had noticed, Sindras worry grew. Alessias expression was unreadable, and Sindra had to resist the urge to send her mind gliding beneath the surface of the mistresss thoughts. Her newly-awakened gift was not for that. Surely not * * * Behind them in Wildejun, the kings men reached the temple gates. 10鈥擝attle in the Heavens Above Staravans Wildejun temple, the human deities stood shoulder to shoulder. Together, they faced the growing darkness that was Walshira manifest. Together, they gathered their power and poured it into a shield meant to stop the Old One from reaching the priests fleeing Staravans roof. Enshul was the only one missing, and she had been there bare moments before. Dark laughter danced along the shields edge, battering their resolve. It taunted them, teasing them with images of the temples Walshira had crushed, priests he had murdered on his altarssouls he had stolen. It continued, until some had trouble holding their place in favor of reaching out and attempting to destroy the being that mocked them. Those closest to Staravan tried to keep an eye on him. The deities on either side, wrapped their arms around his waist in support. The continuing sacrifice of his priests in Toramar tore at him as nothing else had torn before. He tried not to hear their cries, to go to their aid, vowing to avenge the loss of their souls with the Old Ones defeat. He resisted the urge to break from his place in the shield and go to their aidor to relinquish his place on the line and flee to the privacy of his domain. He fought that need, but knew there was rapidly coming a time when he would be able to deny his servants, and his pain, no more. He didnt try to find Enshul. He knew where she was, could feel her seething resentment at his orders. She had wanted to stand fast within the shield, foiling Walshira in personal confrontation, and Staravan had forbidden it. Take the priests to the ship in the bay, hed ordered. Recruit the fisherfolk to act as ferries, so that I can start a new temple in a land far from Toramars claws. We will all start temples there, for we will be welcome in the land of the Vicarey-Esselwoods. Father! shed cried, but her protests had fallen in the face of a unified pantheon and, outvoted by the other gods, she had found herself doing as shed been asked. Very well, she had snarled, leaving in a flurry of dark-petaled magic. I will go and prepare the way. * * * On the sleek dark ship at the river mouth, Captain Anton Vicarey-Esselwood had seen the soldiers enter Wildejun, his heart leaping with concern for his brother and the priestess they had fought so hard to secure. Through the spyglass he kept at his waist, hed watched them jog through the town. Theyre making for the temple, hed murmured, surprised when his first mate had replied. Aye. Theyd watched the attack unfold, together, noting when figures had slipped from an alley and moved quickly along the dock front. A squad of soldiers had come down the main road and turned onto the dock front just as the first fishing boat had ridden to its moorings. Anton had watched it navigate the seething maelstrom swirling at the rivers meeting and admired the courage such an act had taken. His boat was sturdier, and he refused to risk going any closer to what the locals called the Meld. Fetch my brother, he ordered, and he didnt mean the one currently escorting their newly acquired priestess along the Wildejun docks. Aye, captain, the mate said, and hurried to find Andres. They returned shortly after, and by then the skies had turned dark and the scent rising from the Meld had changed from river mud and salt-touched fresh water to something that hinted at death and decay. If the change hadnt been so new, Anton might have dismissed it as normal river smells, but now He turned to Andres, gesturing at the shore. How close does it match? he demanded, and his brother didnt need to ask what he meant. Instead, he studied the scene on the docks before reluctantly nodding his head. Its the same, he admitted. See? They speak to the patrol. Soon they will run. As Tarquin did exactly that, Andres continued. Now, their rescuer appears. As he spoke, a figure leaned out from between two houses and Tarquin and Linna changed direction to follow it. Hell take them to safety. Andres spoke with a surety Anton didnt feel. And her? Anton asked, indicating a small figure that darted out of the cover of several crates and barrels after the patrol had passed. The vision said nothing of her, he answered, and they settled to watch her as she ran to the first fishing boat as it docked. At first the sailors seemed to refuse her, but she made a series of wild motions with her hand, gesturing toward the sky, the temple, and the soldiers stumbling back from the gap in the houses. Whether it was that, or something she said, the fishermen changed their minds, steadying the boat at the dock but not mooring. Whats going on? Anton murmured, as the girl was led to where the fishing captain stood. Anton wished he could hear what was said, but the churn of water and the rumble of threatening thunder combined with the distance to thwart him. He was still intently studying the scene when another form materialized on the deck beside the sailors. She spoke to the sailors, and he wished he could hear her voice above the roar of the waters, especially given their reaction. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. What can she possibly say to calm them? * * * The maid speaks the truth. The captain jumped in fright at the cold, melodic tones that hit his ears, then shivered bone deep. As he turned to see who spoke, one of his sailors shouted in alarm, and the woman behind him turned, her hands raised and alight with magic. Kevarag some of the fishermen whispered. Their voices trembled at the sight of her. Witch, came from others. Pah! I am neither, the mottle-skinned woman replied. Lightning flashed in eyes of a rich golden amber, and her pale gold hair lifted as though caught in an invisible stormbut one that kept the strands from her face. The sailors gaped. I am Enshul, and the gods request your aid. She gestured toward the shore where figures wrapped in priestly garb were emerging from the shadows between the buildings along the dock. Some cautiously exited the Claw, glancing nervously left and right. Why? the captain challenged. And how? Toramars king sent soldiers to sack Staravans temple, the goddess replied fiercely. Isnt that where the captain began, but Enshul didnt allow him time to finish. It is where the servants of the gods have gathered to hear the will of their masters. She paused, making sure she had their attention before continuing, The king has told them the priests plot treason. Thats a lie! snarled out from one of the sailors. We have to stop them! Defend the temple! There was a rush of movement toward the boats edge. Fools! the goddess snapped, and they stopped. The king has also ordered all that go to the temples aid be declared traitors and to be taken as such. That brought worry to their expressions, and puzzlement. What What would the gods have us do, then? one finally asked. Take your boats to Wildejuns Wake and Embers Spit. Collect the priests gathering there and take them to the ship that sits at the river mouth. Around the churn? Around the churn, Enshul replied. The gods make war on your behalf, and might not be able to come to your need in time. And then? the captain asked. For the soldiers will know what weve done. Enshul gave him a tight-lipped glare. Then you will bring your boats back, gather your wives and children, and flee. Follow the ship if you must, or find another village up-river, away from Toramars shores. Even if you do not aid the priests, your lives will depend on that. She looked around, her eyes coming to rest on Staravans acolyte. The girls face was a mix of fear, trepidation and awe, and her gaze softened as she acknowledged the child, before returning her attention to the captain. Heed the child. Give her the clothes of a fishers brat and send her to wake your families and take them to where the priests gather. That way you will not need to return, and they will be gone before the king can think to order them be taken for what you have done. But, Mistress, one of the fishermen began. Our whole lives He stopped, finding he was speaking to thin air. The goddesss manifestation had gone. The captain didnt try to discover where shed gone.. You heard the lady, he bellowed. Though we all know tis not she we serve but Lurani, and it is he who will protect us long after she is gone. No-one had an answer for that, but they didnt need one. All that mattered was that the acolyte was outfitted and running for their families as they untied and prepared to make for the river cove known as Wildejuns Wake. By the time Henna was dressed as a fishers brat and had been put ashore, the goddess had visited the rest of the fleet and over half were altering course away from the docks. * * * Anton watched them from the quarterdeck. What do you think is going on there? he asked, as Andres leant on the taffrail and watched the fishing fleet. Where are they going? He watched the fishing boats a moment later, then came to an abrupt decision. Rouse the crew! he ordered. Weigh His next word died unspoken. The woman materializing before him looked kevarag save that he knew she was not. Hed seen images of her as human and elven depending on her need. Why shed chosen a beast-elf form was beyond him, and not his concern. Having her floating a foot off the deck in front of him was. Her amber eyes glowed with power, and her long, pale-gold hair whipped around her head, shot through with flickering streaks of blue lightning. Peace, she said, spreading her hands, palm open before her. I come on behalf of the gods, seeking aid for their servants. Anton gaped at her. Well, Duke Anton Vicarey-Esselwood? Enshul demanded when he remained too speechless to reply. What say you? Will you aid the gods now that your fathers prayer to Skarsht has been answered? The goddesss reminder of why Tarquin had taken Linna ashore was enough to make him believe what his eyes were telling him was real, and he took a deep breath. Enshuls scent filled the air, reminding him of roses, but like none hed ever smelled. He gasped, wondering if she was trying to enchant him. My Lady, he replied, What service do you require? Only this, Enshul answered. That you receive the servants of the gods with friendship and welcome and give the people of Wildejun an escort and a home, since their assistance renders them in need of one and without the other. And my fathers prayer? Abandon them to other care, the goddess ordered. My brother Anton began, only to stop when she met his worried gaze. He will be brought to you in safety, with the priestess by his side, Enshul answered. You have my word on that. Now, the priests? I will aid you, Anton ceded. The priests may come aboard. She gave him a satisfied smile, and gestured toward the edge of the churn and the boat coming around its edge. Very good. The first boat comes. Draw that boat alongside! Anton roared, seeing his men about to wave the vessel away. Take the priests aboard, and tell the captain to fall behind us if he wishes to be part of the fleet. Fleet? his brother asked. Anton, what are you doing? What the goddess bids, he snapped back, then raised his voice. All hands on deck! All hands! Footsteps thundered through the deck below, and a hatch crashed to the deck as it was thrown back. His two men emerged looking slightly tousled, and like their minds were still catching up to their abruptly wakened forms. Good enough, my Lady? he asked, turning back to the goddess, and stopping when she wasnt there. He sighed, laughing softly at his own chagrin, then hurried to greet the boarding priests. Glancing at the village, he saw a swirling darkness had gathered around the edges of the Staravans temple. * * * The Old Ones darkness gathered just beyond the touch of the gods shield. Its depths roiled and swirled like the folds of a storm with every probe he made. Looking beyond the shields glare he could see the priests leaving the temple. Beyond that, where the river met the docks, he thought he could see the shadow of a figure, flickering as it appeared and disappeared from the decks of the ships in the rivers mouth. Shifting his attention, he watched as his soldiers began their assault on the temples entrance, and raged at their failure. As he did, he caught a faint flicker of movement that was neither priest, nor boat, nor fisherman and tried to bring it into focus. It didnt and he struck the shield in frustration, causing its surface to flare with defensive brightness. When the brightness faded, the source of the movement had disappeared. Curling back into himself, Walshira considered the shield, once more. As he chose another place to strike, the priests clambered into fishing boats, the unmistakable figure of the deity of thieves overseeing their escape. Rage boiled through him, tinging his vision with red, as he gathered more darkness around him before, with a force born of anger, rage and frustration, he forged the dark into a blade and hammered at the shield preventing him from reaching those he considered his rightful prey. In doing so, he blinded himself to matters he would have seen and assessed as more important. Fortunately for those matters, he focused on pounding the shield, causing the gods to stagger. In answer they bowed their heads and threw their remaining strength into keeping the shield in one piece. In desperation, Walshira drew more strength from the kings temple, and summoned twisted elementals to his aid. 11鈥擯ursuit in the Forest In the forests south of Wildejun, Raomar paced beside the river. The battle raging over Wildejun rumbled like distant thunder, the sight of it blocked by the overarching trees. Not that he was looking back. He swept his gaze over his companions, relieved to see them all uninjured and keeping up. As he did, a faint stench caught his nostrils and he hesitated. Glancing over at Ruranith, he jerked his chin toward the river. The mage nodded, and slowed his pace. I smell it, he murmured, and signaled they should move away from the river bank. I know a trail that might help us travel faster. And you didnt think to mention it before now? Raomar asked. You didnt think to ask, the mage shot back, moving swiftly through the nearest bushes, toward the trail. Now, no more questions. You havent the time. Raomar scowled at his departing back, his lips firming in a thin line of angry disapproval, then followed. Beside him, Grunwol shepherded Alessia and her apprentices after the mage. Brianda went last, protecting the rear, and looking relieved to leave the river behind. Behind them the Wildejun River gurgled, its waters rippled, becoming a frothing mass as a filthy column of river water rose from its depths. It stank. All the dead things that had sunk to the mud at the rivers bottom seemed to stick to itor to be sticking out of it, but it didnt seem to care. Strands of rotting weed hung in lank lengths from its back, arms, and head. Eyes the color of coal searched the river bank and saw the still-glowing hollows where Raomars feet had touched the shore. The column pushed against the current until it came to rest beside the bank. Closer inspection revealed that the glowing tracks led away from the river and its disappointment became defeat. Foiled, it howled its rage. In the sky above Wildejun, Walshira heard the howland listened to the report in its depth. Releasing more of the power he had drawn, he brought another earth weird into wakefulness. The weird at the temple was busy tracking all those priests whod been too slow in obeying the High Priests orders. Its jaws dripped with the blood it had shed, and it was too far away to fulfill his need and too absorbed in slaughter to heed him. The ground near the riverbank shuddered and shook free of its covering of fallen leaves. A long, serpentine shape rose out of the leaves, its red eyes gleaming as gravel-laden spittle drooled from its lower lip. It hissed something at the creature standing angrily helpless in the water by the bank. At first the creature refused to reply. The earth weird sucked the drool back into its mouth, and worked its jaws for a long moment. The creature in the water turned its head to study the opposite side of the riverbank. The earth weird stopped chewing, looked contemplatively at the creature in the water, and spat. The semi-solid ball of mud and spit it had created, flew out over the river, stopping only when it met the back of the water weirds head. The water weird roared with anger, an undirected bellow that reached more than the private ears of its master. On a wide trail, a half-mile distant, Alessia froze with fright. Arcane power started to coalesce around her, and her youngest apprentice eased carefully away from her, eyes wide. This time, he didnt attempt to draw strands from the gathering power. Phosphorescent lightning played through it and looked like it wanted a target. Varan didnt want that target to end up being him. Sweet mother of Sophriel, he whispered, watching his mistress turn to face the roar. Ahead of him, Ruranith heard the boys soft prayer and pivoted to see what had caused it. His face paled as he observed the wizardess through a magicians eyes, and saw what kind of magic had answered her call. Sweet mother he murmured, echoing the boy. What is it? Raomar turned, also, but Grunwol, looking toward Alessia saw something that didnt need mage sight to comprehend. Colored lightning crackled up and down Alessias form, reaching out to strike anything that stood near. Grunwol leapt, scooping Xanthia and Sindra away from their mistresss side. Lightning lashed toward him, but stopped short, flickering with frustration as he moved out of range. A frown creased his forehead as his Northmans instinct didnt respond. Outside magic usually triggered a rage that only ended when the source of the magic had been destroyed. The wizardess didnt seem to notice him, nor did she appear to notice when Raomar reached a hand toward her. Ruranith, however, slapped his hand away. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Dont touch her! he warned, earning a curious look from the kevarag. Why not? Ruraniths jaw dropped. Are you so mage-blind that you cant see what even a barbarian observes and understands? I can see the lightning, Raomar assured him, And I do not fear it. More fool you, then, Ruranith retorted. The power she has drawn to herself is wild and untamed, taken from the plane of magic itself. Sophriels gift, Varan breathed, But she has never shown any sign of being able to wield it, before. Ruranith shrugged. The Gift chooses its own time and place to manifest, he said. Some say its the goddess who chooses the who and the when. Others say its chance, that the goddess has no more choice than the recipient. How can that be? Xanthia squeaked. How can it be that she cannot give her gift as she pleases? Ruranith shook his head. Ive heard stories of how Sophriel received her gift, he said. They all talk about a mightier power, an elemental god of magic. I have no arguments with this, or any other opinion. The Gift either comes from the goddess, or it does not. Either way, it still comesbut rarely, until now. Were wasting time, Raomar growled. Choose another time for your lessons. We are hunted. The mage didnt argue. He pointed at Grunwol and the apprentices, including Brianda in his gesture. You five, he ordered, Get behind the wizardess and myself. He turned to Raomar. And you, he continued, If your god is too busy to aid us, then youd better get behind us, as well. The priest-whod-once-been-a-guildmaster sighed and moved behind the mage. Very well. Together, they watched as the bushes lying between them and the river shook, and Alessia drew on the power that shrouded her, cupping small balls of it in her hands. The bushes shook harder, and the ground shuddered beneath their feet. The lightning flowed faster around the wizardess, and her companions took a step away from her, Raomar included. The closest bushes lifted from the ground with the sound of tearing roots. They toppled to one side as an earth weird rose from the ground, the fetid odor that accompanied it marking it as one of the Old Gods beasts. Alessia shrieked, her words sounding similar to those shed used before, only fiercer and far less under her control. More arcane words followed, and she flung lightning from her hands. The weird roared, rearing away from the lightnings path. Its tail lashed wildly but it couldnt avoid the lightning, and two sizzling balls of it struck the weirds upraised belly. It flickered with lightning for a long moment, making the weird shriek in anger and pain. It rolled closer to where Alessia stood, its struggles failing to conceal the noise of more shaking and tearing. The beast had summoned reinforcements. Alessia paid the sound no mind, but drew more lightning to her hands. * * * Deeper in the forest, the electrifying crackle of Alessias magic raised the hairs on the back of Terinors neck. The roar of some unnatural creature echoed around him, followed by the eerie shriek of magics tongue, older than the language of magic he was used to, but undeniably arcane, and far more powerful. Glancing at his two companions, he sighed. The woman ran as sure-footedly as any elf, and the man followed her on soldiers feet. He might regret rescuing them, and being forced to take a detour from his plans. Keep going, he ordered, when they hesitated. Theyre in good hands. The soldierTarquinlooked like he might argue, even when Terinor let his face harden into the mask he wore when killing. Again, the hair-raising static of magic washed over them, drawing him toward it. The sensation was almost irresistible, especially when he knew his daughter was there, and he hesitated. The feel of a hand on his arm made him look down. The womanthe priestess? She stood beside him, and he realized hed stopped. You said we were in a hurry, she reminded him, but glanced toward the sound. You said they were in good hands. Are you sure you want to leave them? Wondering how she knew of his concern, and realizing shed probably read it from his expression, Terinor turned his assassins face toward her. Again, the roar came. The priestess ignored it. She ignored the look on Terinors face, too, staring at him unflinchingly as she waited for his answer. With an effort, Terinor let his killing expression fall away. With another effort, he pulled himself together, and began moving, again. This way, he ordered, his voice rough as he led them away from the roars. He was still struggling with the decision, when he felt something pass overhead. It momentarily covered them with a shadow of indefinable evil and great power. Terinor shuddered at is passing. Hurry, he said, fear roughening his voice further. Neither the warrior or the priestess argued. They stayed on his heels as he took them further into the forest. The Erlindar of Al AHarimmal are south west, he thought. I can leave these two in their care, and then pursue my daughters care. Another roar shook the forest, and he touched the stone at his throat, feeling it heat beneath his fingertip. Even though it offered them a faster means of escaping the danger zone, he was reluctant to use it. Such power so close to whatever battle draws the gods is unwise, he reasoned, but his thoughts were interrupted by the swelling sense of evil. For a moment, he thought it was the previous presence coming back to foul the sky overhead. Stepping off the faint trail hed been following, he took shelter beside the thick trunk of a tall oak, and silently, his companions followed his example. The sense of evil grew stronger until it was beating all around them, and the leaf-scented air of the night forest was ruined by the sudden gusting of a fetid swirling breeze. The base of a whirlwind touched down briefly, kicking up dust on the path they had been followingand then it lifted just as quickly away. As it left, the three companions released the breaths theyd been holding, and breathed, again. A sudden backwash of rot-filled air brought tears to their eyes, and they stood, choking on it, until the sound of rushing wind had died totally away. This way, Terinor croaked, when he could catch his breath. I knowa shorter path. His hand crept to the stone adorning the gold-laced torc at his throat. It glowed a dull green at his touch, the light escaping from between his fingers. The priestess nodded, taking her soldiers hand and dragging him in Terinors wake. Seeing they were following, the elf picked up speed, leaving the fading stink of the whirlwinds passing, but not quite able to shake the sense of evil its presence had brought.