ã€ŠSpring of Black Flowers [NECROMANCER EPIC FANTASY]ã€‹


 Chapter 1

    The sun had risen well above the horizon by the time the meltwater stream they followed was joined by another, pooling deep enough to splash above their ankles. The white lion of Aldrimar stretched itself across the Henric¡¯s back, his black cloak wrapped tight around him against the morning chill. ¡°How much further?¡± He muttered to himself. His uncles had woken him well before dawn, and they¡¯d been walking since.

    Zak stopped short, and for a second Henric thought a mistake had been made. Instead, he and Samael locked eyes. ¡°Here?¡± Zak asked.

    Samael shook his head. ¡°Around the bend. I marked us a spot ahead.¡±

    ¡°All the way out here?¡± Henric asked. ¡°Or is that part of the initiation?¡±

    That got a laugh from his uncle. ¡°I stopped here on my way back from the city and crossed over. It¡¯s a good spot.¡±

    Zak was the older of the two, almost ten years Henric¡¯s senior, and in many ways his role model. He wore his sandy hair cut short, though he¡¯d had a week¡¯s growth strapping his chin. ¡°Here is as good as anywhere. Right where I thought it¡¯d be.¡±

    Samael, Henric¡¯s younger uncle and only five years his elder, rolled his eyes and turned to Henric, ¡°Do you remember what the Book said? Do you remember the words?¡±

    Of course he did. He had been learning them for years, preparing for this moment. Still, Henric had not slept the night before, nervous. Usually it was a boy¡¯s father, not his uncles that led his initiation, but Gareth Aldimar was far away assisting in the King¡¯s campaign to turn back the hordes of Gors threatening his lands. Father would tell him to be brave right now, and so Henric nodded.

    ¡°Good.¡±

    Samael dug in his pack for a small bundle of chalk. He took out a stick, and began to mark out old runes on tree trunks and stones in a rough square around them. At each point, he said the old prayer as he drew on the accompanying marks. When he was done, he joined the other two in the stream, and asked ¡°Are we ready?¡±

    They both nodded.

    Henric thought back to the afternoons in the Lord¡¯s Study of Zaksburg with his father, sitting at the old desk. The walls were lined with the old books collected by Aldrimars over the generations, but there was no other book like this one. Bound in simple brown leather, Zakaran, the first Aldrimar for whom Henric¡¯s uncle was namesake, had kept journal filled with secrets and heresies in the eyes of the Congregation.

    Henric recalled the passage about Zakaran¡¯s first walk in Death, and the words he had spoken to cross over. ¡°Muzum ala thebeth.¡±

    His uncles nodded. They began to repeat the words over and over, and soon Henric began to feel a the water tugging at his feet, urging him to move. He listened, staying with the words as he began to feel the forest around him slipping away, the sounds of the world disappearing until it was only their voices chanting and the intensifying sound of running water.

    A few moments later, the two brothers stopped their chant. Henric continued, eyes shut, twice more before he noticed his uncles stopped.

    ¡°Open your eyes, Henric,¡± said Samael. ¡°Don¡¯t be alarmed, we¡¯ve crossed over.¡±

    He saw grey. Everything had disappeared, along with the warmth of the spring morning. Instead, he saw that the stream had stretched out in all directions, a thick fog rising off the water. The sky above was black as starless night. The water was cold filled with debris of fallen leaves and branches, but the current was strong and Henric could feel it tugging at his ankles, urging him to follow. When he looked at his two uncles, their faces seemed both there and not. He found himself taking a few steps downstream before Zak caught him in one strong arm and held him back.

    ¡°Careful now!¡± said Zak.

    ¡°Something is calling to me down river.¡±

    ¡°Ignore it, Henric.¡±

    Henric tried. The harder he worked to put it out of his mind, the more the feeling tugged at him, until he could almost hear something shouting to him from beyond the fog downstream.

    ¡°What¡¯s down there?¡± he asked, frightened.

    ¡°There¡¯s no way to know without going to look, but we won¡¯t be doing that,¡± said Zak. He noticed his nephew¡¯s confused expression, and continued, ¡°This is the River of Souls, Henric, Death. The current gets stronger further you go, and it is easy to get caught in it. Even we could not help you there if you should get swept away in it. And that¡¯s not even mentioning the denizens. No. It is too dangerous for your first time in the River.¡±

    He remembered the denizens from the Book. Creatures that dwelt in the bends and pools of the River, consuming souls unlucky enough to be swept to them. Though nobody had seen one in generations the Book went on at length about the dangers of denizens when in Death, and described the three methods to deal with one, prayers for binding, banishing, or breaking. He had only learned the very first of them, the simple binding. The boy let that sink in, then took a deep breath. Maybe I¡¯m not as ready for this as I thought.

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    ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    He nodded.

    After he had composed himself, Henric took another deep breath and called aloud, repeating the old words written in Zakaran¡¯s old book. ¡°Lady of the River, I beg you hear my prayer! I ask your favor, that I may always work to preserve your River¡¯s flow against those who would profane it.¡± He had shouted it, as loud and as deep as his fourteen year old self could muster, and noticed the fog shift a bit around them. He looked to his uncles, and they seemed impressed. He had done well, and surely the Lady of the River would bless him.

    Again the fog shifted, but little else happened over the sound of the river. He waited there for a few minutes before giving up, and turning back to his uncles. ¡°What was that?¡± asked Zak.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± said Henric, abashed. ¡°I thought I did everything right¡­¡±

    ¡°No, not you,¡± said Zak. ¡°Did you feel that Samael?¡±

    A worried look crossed Samael¡¯s face as he nodded. ¡°Something moved the fog.¡±

    ¡°Is everything alright?¡± asked Henric.

    ¡°Of course,¡± said Samael. He and Zak shared a glance. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    As Henric took a step back towards his uncles, he felt something grab his back and suddenly flung him backwards into the water. It was much deeper than he had expected, and he struggled for a moment to get his feet beneath him. When he stood the water was almost to his waist and the current threatened to sweep him off his feet again. Distantly, he could hear his uncles shouting his name somewhere out of sight. He put his hands up to shout back, but a rumbling laugh came from behind him, low and menacing.

    ¡°A boy,¡± it said, sending shivers down Henric¡¯s spine. He spun to see a dark figure in the fog behind him. It was thin and tall and cloaked in fog, but the stench of it, like rotted flesh filled Henric¡¯s nose and almost made him gag. ¡°A living one! My lucky day.¡±

    Henric tried to back away, but when he tried to lift his feet the current almost knocked him off balance. He didn¡¯t dare running. ¡°S- s- s- stay away,¡± he stammered, trying to visualize a loop of light encircling the shifting figure. That only made the denizen laugh.

    ¡°Why would I do that, boy?¡± even though he couldn¡¯t see it, he distinctly got the impression the thing was smiling. ¡°You¡¯re my way out of this place.¡± The fog rushed up to meet him, he threw his arms up over his face.

    Somewhere behind him he heard someone shouting, ¡°Henric!¡±

    ¡°Over here!¡± he shouted.

    ¡°Duck!¡°

    He did, and felt his hair standing on end as a blast of purple-white energy surged past him. The creature hissed as it shifted out of the way. Henric didn¡¯t wait for someone to tell him to run.

    He remembered what the Book had said about returning to Life. He focused on the slowed beating of his own heart, hearing it and clinging to it, and using it almost as a rope to pull himself against the current.

    Zak came splashing forward, blade in hand, Samael a few steps behind him. Samael¡¯s hand glowed a brilliant violet light, and with a commanding shout of ¡°Vade!¡± the light burst forth from his hand in another blast like before. Henric was too busy running to see the creature shift its form out of the way, and then change its form into a huge water serpent and lunge after them. Zak slashed at the thing with his sword as it tried to slide past him, cutting it deeply and making the denizen stop and let out a horrible cry of pain. Once Henric had run past them, his uncles raced after him towards the shallows, towards Life. Each of them concentrated on their still beating hearts, leading them back to their living bodies.

    ***

    Henric¡¯s head snapped backwards, and then forwards as he awoke, sending him face first into the bubbling stream. His nose hit a rock in the bed, and he noticed red dripping with the water off his face as he stood. Samael helped him up.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    He nodded. Or shivered. Possibly trembled. Just the thought of the denizen scared him. ¡°I think so. What was that thing?¡±

    ¡°Specifically? I¡¯m not sure,¡± said Samael. ¡°I didn¡¯t get a close enough look.¡±

    ¡°I did, and I¡¯m still not sure what that was,¡± said Zak. ¡°But it stunk.¡±

    Henric noticed the Mark on his left hand, the lines of the strange glyph seemed to be dyed into his skin with a purple-black ink. He tried to rub at it, but it would not come off, which he was glad for. ¡°Are we safe?¡± he asked. Zak looked to Samael.

    ¡°We must be,¡± said Samael. He looked up, and noticed the sky had changed to the golden tones of sundown. ¡°They aren¡¯t supposed to be able to cross into life without a body.¡±

    ¡°What was that light Sam?¡± asked Henric. ¡°How did you do that?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± added Zak. ¡°What was that?¡±

    ¡°It was a banishing,¡± said Sam.

    ¡°A banishing?¡± asked Henric. ¡°When did you learn how to do that?¡±

    Samael only nodded. His face scrunched up as though he smelled something foul, but it was gone almost as quickly as it had come. ¡°It¡¯s gotten late, let¡¯s go.¡±

    ¡°But¡­¡± said Henric.

    But Samael was already up and walking away, leaving Zak and Henric a bit surprised with no choice but to follow after.

    ***

    On the way, Henric could still faintly smell that awful stench of the creature everywhere around him. He tried as best as he could to put the thing out of his mind, it could not get him here in Life. It wasn¡¯t until they came upon the corpse of a raccoon and the smell grew almost overwhelmingly strong that Henric realized the creature had smelled of Death. The revelation set his mind at ease, and felt himself falling back experimenting with the budding sense he seemed to feel like smell. He soon noticed pleasurable smell cutting through the stink of Death, the sweet aroma of Life. The forest through which they walked was filled with both, decaying leaves which gave birth to new life. Predator fed on prey, and new life was being born. Henric was amazed at what he could feel and did not notice as his uncles slipped away from him, around a bend in the stream.

    When he finally caught up to them, they were talking in hushed voices about something, and when they noticed him coming he could hear the change in the conversation.

    ¡°There you are Henric. Is everything alright?¡± Zak asked as Henric approached.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Henric was confused at the question. ¡°There¡¯s just so much going on here. I needed a moment.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± said Zak. Both brothers shot each other concerned looks. Then Samael nodded.

    ¡°Henric, I¡¯m was not sure if you sensed it.¡± Samael put his hand on his nephew¡¯s shoulder, and Henric could see tears in his eyes. ¡°Your father has died.¡±

 Chapter 2

    All the bells in the city rang out to mark the passing of Gareth Aldrimar. Henric rode along side of his father¡¯s casket clad his finest blacks and the same cloak as the day he¡¯d first walked in Death, black with a white roaring lion sown in. Zak had worked with Lucan and the Watch to clear out the streets early in the morning, but the people had still turned out in droves to mourn the loss of their Lord Regent. And to welcome home the soldiers, their husbands and brothers who had fought for and with Henric¡¯s father. Henric would have traded places with any of them right now. Their day would be one of joy and reunion, while his would be one of somber and rigorous ceremony.

    Henric was surrounded by an honor guard of his father''s six finest knights in their armor, and his uncle Samael who had just returned from the Unarium at Lullus. Like Henric, he was dressed in blacks to mourn the passing of his eldest brother, a man almost twice his age. Sam was staring off into crowds ahead, absently letting his horse lead him. Now was as good a time as any.

    Henric was about to open his mouth when someone else spoke behind him.

    "My lords," said Thomias, the portly mayor of the city. He must have spurred his poor old steed out of his assigned place in the procession to catch up to them. Henric had seen far too much of the big man in the past few weeks for his tastes. Thomias had a good heart, and was a capable representative of the people, but he was always eating and talking so loudly he drowned out any conversations that were not his own. "My condolences for your loss. Gareth Aldrimar will be missed"

    That seemed to bring Samael back from whatever occupied his mind. "Thank you, Mayor Thomias."

    "Yes, thank you" said Henric, keeping his answer short in hopes the mayor''s interruption would be an uncharacteristically brief one.

    "Your father was a great man, Lord Henric," continued Thomias. "I have commissioned a statue in his honor for the fountain in the West Market."

    "How good of you," said Henric. "I would like to see it when it has been completed."

    "Oh of course! And you shall!" said Thomias. Clearly he had no intention of leaving them alone. "We have many matters to discuss before then. Take for instance the goods flowing into the city. People are finding their own stolen goods in our markets."

    "I..." said Henric.

    "And then there is the matter in Altea," continued Thomias. Henric shot his uncle a desperate glance.

    "Now is not the time for these discussions Thomias," said Samael. "Let us first bury my brother and let my nephew rest. These matters can wait till later in the week, no?"

    The fat man shook his head, wobbling both his chins. "These are pressing matters and should not be delayed."

    "And they won''t," broke in Henric. "I will send for you to join us atop the hill within the week, once my father''s matters are settled."

    His assurance seemed to placate the man, and he soon returned to his designated place in the line. Looking up, Henric was able to see they had almost come under the shadow of their destination, the castle on its high hill. Their procession moved slowly, winding its way through the broader streets of the city, and at this rate they would not reach the castle until midday. He was glad Samael had been the one to meet Gareth''s corpse along the road, mostly for what his quiet uncle left unsaid expecting nothing of him. It felt like a bit of a break.

    "Sam," said Henric, keeping his voice low. "Sam!"

    "Yes Henric?"

    ¡°How did it go at the Unarium?¡±

    Samael shook his head and sighed. ¡°I¡¯m not sure. When I got there, I took tests for two days and gathered my things. I didn¡¯t stay long enough to even hear my results.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just glad you made it back on time,¡± said Henric.

    ¡°Barely,¡± said Samael. ¡°I was lucky to meet Arnult and the precession when I did.¡±

    Henric looked around, and then urged his horse into step alongside Samael¡¯s. "I''ve been meaning to ask what did you do? In Death?" The past week had been busy for Henric, and with Samael back at the Unarium to finish out his term and gather his things, the two of them had not had much time to discuss his initiation and the denizen''s attack.

    "I told you already, Henric, it was a banishing," said Samael.

    "Yeah, but you didn¡¯t explain anything uncle," said Henric. He remembered the brilliant violet-white blast surging through the fog. He remembered the horrible shriek the denizen let out as the blast hit it. He had dreamed about it almost every night and thought after it every free moment he had. He had even asked Zak, who was just as mystified as he was. ¡°And I read the Journal. It didn¡¯t say anything about a ball of violet light.¡±

    Samael blushed. ¡°Was pretty sure I did it wrong.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Henric almost laughed. ¡°It still saved me.¡±

    ¡°I suppose so,¡± Samael grinned.

    ¡°Well?¡± asked Henric. ¡°Are you doing it wrong?¡±

    ¡°Not anymore,¡± Samael said. ¡°I¡¯d found a book at the Unarium and tried something from it. That day in the river was the only time it ever worked.¡±

    "What book? Do you still have it?" asked Henric. "I would love a look at it."

    Samael shook his head, whipping his braided hair behind him. "Brother Davit caught me practicing and confiscated it from me. It is forbidden literature for all but the Ordained. I no longer have it."

    "Oh," said Henric, and nothing else. He had never known Samael to be careless with anything before, which only made him want to see this book more. Perhaps he would be able to find a copy when he attended at the Unarium himself. ¡°Did you find anything else?¡±

    ¡°About what?¡±

    ¡°The denizen,¡± said Henric. ¡°We still have to do something about it, but Zak and I didn¡¯t want to make a move without you.¡±

    The first thing they had did that night after Samael had left was dig through the old Journal. The last time a denizen had come so close to Life was more than a century ago, during the time of the first Henric Aldrimar. There was a famine that year, and the small town of Carthel, high in the eastern mountains was starving. Reports from the town said the dying screamed out in horrible agony, as if they were being eaten from the inside, a sure sign of a denizen preying on their souls. Lord Aldrimar crossed over and banished the creature deep down river, and maybe that would work for them...

    ¡°Henric,¡± said Samael. ¡°I don¡¯t think we have anything to worry about. That was a very remote area, I can¡¯t see how it would have crossed over. It would need a necromancer.¡±

    They had come to the Lord''s Square, the grand marketplace at the foot of the Aldrimar''s Hill beyond the the open gate. ¡°I guess you¡¯re right,¡± said Henric.

    The whole square was packed with crowds mourning for his father. It was here that the hundred assembled trumpeters began to play out fanfare. Henric didn¡¯t need to turn around to see the proud grin on Thomias¡¯ face, but did anyway. As they went, both he and Samael were showered with condolences, and could only respond with endless "thank you"s. A sea of people reached out to touch him, screamed his name, and he was grateful for the armed men between the rabble and himself.

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    "Aeeeee!¡° a shrill scream, the trumpets stopped and Henric''s guards had their swords in hand. All around them, the crowd broke into chaos, people running every which way, mothers dragging crying children by death gripping their hands. Henric¡¯s horse spooked, and bucked him off of its back.

    He hit the cobbled streets hard with a grunt, jolts of pain rolling up and down his back. Are we under attack? And who would? Something kicked him in the side, and a young man tripped and stumbled over him, only to keep running. Henric rolled back onto his feet and all he could see was the surging sea of people, but he could hear the sounds of swords somewhere around. Ceremony had dictated he did was not allowed to carry a sword during the procession, but he took some comfort when his hand felt the dagger he had hidden away in his boot.

    He almost screamed and drew the dagger when he felt someone grab his shoulder. "My lord! Are you alright?" asked one of the knights, a man named Rorgan. Henric nodded. "Keep sharp and stay close to me. Avner, Kardin, with me. The rest of you protect Lord Samael."

    The knights reigned up their horses, and formed a circle around their deceased commander and his son and half-brother. They formed a hard wall to the confused citizens running at them, knocking them back without the use of their weapons, showing immense restraint.

    An arrow stuck with a thud and a twang in the wooden casket beside Henric. He followed the angle of it back over his shoulder and saw a figure on the rooftop slip away down the other side. He pointed, "Up there! I saw someone on the rooftops!"

    Almost as suddenly as the chaos had begun, a way opened before them, and they were able to charge through the square to the gate beyond. A line of guardsmen had rushed out to form a line and protect the gate, and only broke at the sight of the procession.

    "Close the gates!" Samael shouted at the guards once they were through. Then he turned to Henric, "Are you hurt?"

    Henric shook his head. He could hear his heart pumping hard in his chest. ¡°What happened out there?¡±

    ¡°It was a scuffle,¡± announced the gate captain from the top of the stairs. Each wooden step let out a hollow thud as he descended. ¡°I saw it from atop the gate. It looked like some toughs started up a fight. One drew a sword and then it was like a malagreth had appeared down there.¡± The gates came closed with a screeching halt by the time the old man finally reached them.

    There were no more crowds beyond the gate, and much of the procession had dispersed behind them as they had passed through the city, and lost more during the panic. The few that remained were honored knights and the clergy attending the Archan. Henric was glad to see that Mayor Thomais seemed to have made it . They were on castle grounds now, though there were still two gates and a long climb between them and home.

    ¡°Work with the Watch captain and round up the men who started the fight. I have a few questions for them,¡± said Henric to the captain. He handed over the arrow he had pulled from the casket, and added, ¡°Someone was on the rooftops. I am lucky they missed.¡± I have to make sure those responsible are punished, he thought. The gate captain turned and started barking out orders, had Henric presented with a new horse, and the procession proceeded.

    When the sun hung high in the sky, the funeral procession finally crested the hill and arrived at the high courtyard of Zaksburg. The entire castle had assembled in the courtyard to receive the beloved son of their duke. Stable hands rushed up to take their horses, and both Henric and Samael rushed up to greet their waiting mothers.

    Lady Kris, Henric¡¯s mother, was a tall, fair skinned woman. Her long chestnut hair was done up in a single braid that hung down to her waist. Her mourning gown was long and modest, in the traditions of her homeland. ¡°Henri¡¯¡± she said as she wrapped him up in her arms. ¡°We had heard zer was a ummotion below? Are you alright?¡±

    ¡°Yes mother,¡± Henric said. ¡°I am just fine. I had father¡¯s best knights around me, I was well protected.¡±

    Beside them, Ekloda embraced her son Samael. Though Henric had known her as ¡®grandmother¡¯ all his life, that was only because she was married to his grandfather. The duke¡¯s second wife was only a few years older than Henric¡¯s mother. Like her daughter in law, Ekloda was a foreigner to Erazel, and the two women had become close friends over their years together as outsiders. The duke¡¯s wife was dressed in a overlarge, warm, but less than flattering dress. She had never grown used to the cold of Erazi winters.

    ¡°Good,¡± said Kris. She smoothed out the cloak on Henric¡¯s shoulders. ¡°You look too handsome, it would be a shame to have ruined that.¡±

    ¡°You do have a handsome son, Kris,¡± said Ekloda. ¡°Perhaps when he grows up he may be as handsome as one of mine.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, mother,¡± said Samael. His brother Zak was considered by the serving girls the more handsome of the two brothers, a fact Samael was not ignorant of.

    ¡°He should be so lucky!¡± said Kris. That made Adelin, Henric¡¯s younger sister, giggle at him. He shot her a glare but soon the others were laughing too. He brushed away his mother¡¯s fussing hands from his hair, he was embarrassed enough. He looked around at the assembled crowd. His uncles, Zak and Samael stood beside their mother, the duke¡¯s wife. To his left were his mother and his older sisters, Alixandra, Eldabeth, and to his right was his little sister Adelin.

    Elsewhere in the courtyard he spied Mayor Thomias chattering and waving his hands with the captain of the guards. The four clergymen assembled included Father Ulan, who would preside over the ceremony today, were talking amongst themselves. Henric saw a group of barons and knights from the countryside, a few elected officials including the Mayor of Waylese, and the duke¡¯s brother the Half-Zak. There was only one person Henric did not see, the duke of Zaksburg himself. But he had not been seen in Zaksburg for eight years, not since his surrender to the old king at the end of the rebellion.

    ¡°Father Ulan!¡± Henric shouted across the yard. The old priest looked up, at the sound of his name. ¡°I think it is time we started.¡±

    The old man looked up. His long brown beard was tucked into the collar of his robe, making a comical sight as he craned his neck to squint at the sun. ¡°I... I do think so too,¡± said the old man. ¡°Come on now everyone! Let us begin the Rites!¡±

    All of the guests assembled filed into the small chapel and took their seats. Though he was never duke, Gareth Aldrimar would be afforded all the dignities of burial as one. He had been named Lord Regent upon his father¡¯s surrender, and ruled through the duke¡¯s incarceration for the past eight years. Gareth had done his part in maintaining the tenuous peace in Erazel, working hard to reunite the divided nation after three generations of civil war and the extinction of the old royal family. In the weeks since his father¡¯s death, people had looked to Henric to fill those impossible shoes.

    Light filled the chapel through the glass panels in the roof. At the altar, Father Ulan and his attendants produced the seven oils from the large wooden chest they carried with him. Gareth Aldrimar¡¯s casket was placed at an angle and opened facing the assembly. He looked peaceful, though Henric knew that was the priests doing. His father had died several weeks ago of a plague that had swept through his war camp during the new king¡¯s campaign in Azrinel.

    The old priest began to chant, and the others soon joined him. He led the ceremony, anointing the body of Gareth Aldrimar with the oils, one after the other. When he had finished with the sixth oil, Father Ulan motioned to the congregation to rise and for Henric to approach. He took the few steps to the raised platform, as the priest produced the seventh oil, and held it up for all to see. ¡°As we say goodbye to Gareth Aldrimar, we ask the Lords Above to bless us his son, Henric, with all his father¡¯s wisdom and benevolence.¡±

    ¡°Amen,¡± the congregation said in unison. The priest tilted his hand, and the final oil poured out and burst into a lavender flame when made contact with his father¡¯s forehead. The priest and the boy made eye contact, and both began to recite the ancient words. As they did, the flames whipped up and around, and Henric found himself concentrating deeply on the flame. He felt a drop of the oil on his forehead, and the flame leapt from Gauthier¡¯s forehead to his son¡¯s, and Henric felt a strange sensation of warmth come over him. The flames soon dispersed, Henric no worse for wear, and he rose to close the lid on Gareth Aldrimar¡¯s casket.

    Father Ulan went on to say much on the nature of Death. As Henric sat back down in his seat, he looked at the faces of those assembled, and allowed himself a bit of pride. He had done well. For a few moments, he listened to the old man.

    ¡°His works among us done,¡± warbled the man. ¡°The Lords Above have allowed him to join with them in Death Eternal, no longer shall he suffer the troubles of Life.¡±

    When he was younger, it had been hard for Henric to reconcile what the Faith and what the Book said about what happens when you die. He¡¯d asked his father one day which one was correct.

    ¡°Zakaran is,¡± said Gareth. ¡°You¡¯ll see for yourself one day, like I have.¡±

    ¡°So if the priests are wrong, why do we even bother with them?¡± asked Henric.

    He knew he had said something wrong by the look his father gave him. ¡°The priests are not wrong, Henric. What Zakaran talks about in his book would be heresy to any other. We are not supposed to see it. To travel in the River of Souls is a fate the Faith seeks to prevent for it¡¯s followers. Those who earn the gods¡¯ favor are brought straight to them once their souls leave their bodies.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± he remembered saying. He had seen Death now though, and he envied those souls.

    His father crouched down to look him in the eye. ¡°What Zakaran did, what we can do, serves the gods in a different way than the priests and the Faith can. Even in Death the sinners and the Faithless can wreak havoc, and the Lady chose us to keep her peace.¡±

    But why us? wondered Henric. Are we really the only ones? Does anyone know? Is that why I was attacked today? He wondered whether or not the men who had started the commotion this morning had been found yet. No, it had only been a few hours and would be unfair of him to expect results so soon. Someone tried to kill me today. That cannot go unpunished. He wondered who had been on the rooftop, and if they had anything to do with the chaos in the plaza. He had a lot of work to do.

 Chapter 3

    "So you missed him?" said Allen.

    "Hardly," said Rua. "My shot was perfect, the boy got lucky is all."

    "Whatever you say, boss," said Allen. Rua didn¡¯t like the way he said ¡®boss¡¯.

    The common room of the Dancing Stone was dark, crowded, and stunk like sweat and piss and beer. Or maybe it was the beer that smelled like piss and sweat, Rua couldn¡¯t tell. Across the table from him, the northerner, Allen chugged his down greedily, then slammed the table calling for another one. He had chosen this place to meet for its charms, it would seem.

    Rua had to admit the mistake to himself though. He had led the boy too little, and the arrow went right past him. Master Omaras would be furious at the news, but Rua had no intention of returning to the east until he had good news and a trophy of the duke¡¯s grandson''s death. He had not failed, not yet.

    ¡°That really was quite the commotion you stirred up today,¡± said Rua as the barmaid set down two more beers at the table. He still had more than half of his first beer left.

    Allen tipped his golden-maned head and his beer in a faux-gracious gesture of thanks, then took a giant gulp, and another. ¡°It was nothing really. Me an¡¯ a few of my boys just went and stirred up the boys from Southriver. Then one of ¡®em pulled out a sword! Lucky me!"

    "Yes," said Rua. "His fortunate for you." Even after these past few weeks, he still found nothing redeemable about his contact in this city.

    ¡°What do you even have against the kid anyway?¡± Allen asked.

    ¡°I was told he had to die,¡± he pushed his chair back from the table as if to stand. The whole bar was silent for a moment at the great creak it made, watching the thin stranger in his large dark cloak for a sudden move, and returning to their own drinks and distractions after a moment of inaction.

    ¡°That so?¡± said Allen.

    Rua had enough, and turned his back to the northerner.

    "Ahem," coughed Allen and stared Rua dead in the face. His right hand was stretched out, with a light grip on the hilt of his sword. "What about my money?"

    Of course, thought Rua. All these northerners think about is money and violence. They''re practically Rgahzi. He pulled a small purse from his pocket and dropped it onto the table with a thunk. Even before the purse hit the table he was leaving the Dancing Stone and stepping out into the evening sunlight..

    The street outside was hardly more than an alleyway, yet people milled in and out of the shops and stalls located throughout while carts wheeled down the center of the lane. Drawing up the hood of his cloak to cover his face, Rua began to make his way southwards through the sea of people. As he walked, he looked all around him for any sign of trouble, a remarkably easy task when standing a head taller than most of the crowd.

    He could not afford another failure. The last attempt had taken weeks of planning and almost all of his travel cash, and yet the lucky boy still lived. He had relied on the chaos in the plaza to distract the boys guards, and Rua didn¡¯t know the next time Henric Aldrimar would be seen in public. Perhaps I could infiltrate the castle? he supposed. He would need at least three weeks of observation to figure out the best way in, and a few more still to discover the young lord¡¯s patterns. But before any of that, he would have to send a report.

    Killing the boy¡¯s father had not caused him half the trouble. Sickness had done most of the work, striking the whole camp. It had been triflingly easy to slip past the token lookouts and into their captain¡¯s tent. Rua hadn¡¯t seen the duke¡¯s son leave his tent in the last day, and was not surprised to find him sleeping soundly. To the steward that found Gareth Aldrimar the next morning, it looked as though the sickness had killed him in his sleep.

    As Rua came around a bend, he saw two men armored in matching black and crimson surcoats with a white lion on the breast, Aldrimar¡¯s Watchmen. Rua stepped back and his around the bend, peeking out just enough to spy on them and the woman they seemed to be questioning. She turned, and pointed down the street directly at Rua, and he saw the guardsmen¡¯s eyes follow. He slipped back behind the bend, and went back northwards up the street. He slipped into a small alcove where one building jutted out further into the street than the one next to it, and waited for the guards to come.

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    Their heavy footsteps and clanking armor parted the crowds at their approach, and Rua was grateful for a line of people between him and the watchmen. Who was that woman? How did she know I was there? One watchman pointed, and the other followed him to the doorway to the Dancing Stone. Now¡¯s my chance! Run!

    But curiosity got the better of him. Instead of taking off down the street, he crossed ut and slipped back inside the stink of the Dancing Stone. With Rua¡¯s money Allen had ordered large plate of pork, and was now shoveling it greedily into his face. The disgusting display was by the guardsmen approaching the table.

    ¡°Allen,¡± said the taller of the two watchmen.

    ¡°Washman Theric! Fancy sheeing you here!¡± slurred Allen.

    ¡°It shouldn¡¯t surprise you too much,¡± said Theric. ¡°When there¡¯s trouble in town, you¡¯re usually not far from it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve no idea what choo mean, sir. I¡¯ve been here all day.¡±

    The Dancing Stone had fallen silent again for the second time that evening, its patrons rapt in the unfolding scene. Theric leaned in, placing his gauntleted hand firmly on the table.

    ¡°Don¡¯t play dumb with us,¡± said the watchman. ¡°We know you¡¯re lying. Plenty of people saw you picking a fight with those men from Southriver in the Plaza this morning.¡± He nodded to his partner.

    The other watchman shifted between Allen and the door, blocking Rua¡¯s view of his contact. Damn this dark place that hides from the Sun! No fortune could find a man in a place like this where torches burnt through daytime. Rua stood helpless as Allen went for his sword, and found a heavy mailed fist restraining him against the thick wooden pillar at his back. Both watchmen were speaking loudly at him while Rua slipped back out onto the street again.

    Rua moved as quickly as he could through the quickly darkening canyon-streets of the city below Zakaran¡¯s Rock, the city under the protection of the Aldrimars. Careless, he bumped into a someone, and thought he felt a pickpocket¡¯s groping hand. A quick check confirmed he still had his shortsword and his two hidden daggers, his knives, his coinpurse, and most importantly the vial, his way out should he be captured. He would die before giving up his secrets.

    But he didn¡¯t have his bow or arrows. He left them high in an empty attic he had found while exploring the city¡¯s rooftops. He wanted to get them, but they were just under a mile away and he had no time. If Allen said anything, the Watch would have the whole city watching for him, and he would be forced to drink the vial. Or flee, he could always try to slip away and spend his life moving from city to city, always looking over his shoulders for Master Omaras¡¯ knives. What kind of life would that be though? No. He would just have to make sure Allen said nothing.

    ¡°Let me go!¡± shouted Allen as the two guards dragged him kicking out of the Dancing Stone.

    ¡°Shut it,¡± said Theric. ¡°You¡¯re coming with us¡±

    Allen gave a mighty thrash, and almost broke Theric¡¯s grip on him. The other watchman struck him hard on the face, and Allen went limp in their arms.

    ¡°Shit,¡± said the watchman. ¡°Now we¡¯ll have to carry him the whole way.¡±

    They dragged him back northwards through the streets as the fireboys ran through lighting torches. Rua followed, pressed against walls and keeping the Watchmen in eyesight. They turned down an alley heading into the base of the Aldrimar¡¯s rock.

    ¡°Stop,¡± said Rua. The watchmen stopped suddenly. They had been sure they were alone with their prisoner.

    ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± asked Theric. He let go of Allen¡¯s arm, letting him slump down onto the cobbles. He loosed his sword in its sheath, and his partner did the same.

    Rua had his own sword in hand, a throwing knife in the other. He felt his muscles coiling, ready to spring when his opponents moved. Theric¡¯s partner drew his blade and approached.

    ¡°Ah!¡± he shrieked with Rua¡¯s knife sticking out from his eye. The tall man was on the watchman in an instant, and drove his blade through the man¡¯s armor and deep into his gut. The shortsword dripped red blood on the cobblestones as its owner turned on Theric.

    ¡°Mik! You bastard!¡± Theric came in fast and swung hard. With all his years of training, it was a simple thing to slip into the opening left by an opponent overextending himself. It was a simple thing for Rua to slide his blade along the man¡¯s exposed neck, cutting deep and spraying blood all over.

    He knew someone had likely heard the watchman¡¯s scream and he had only a few more moments before they would come looking. Rua looked at his contact laying unconscious on the ground. He¡¯s been nothing but trouble. I can leave no witness. He flipped the broad man onto his back, thrust the shortsword through his ribs, and placed one of the watchmen¡¯s swords in his hands. Rua looked around at his work and grinned. He allowed himself only a moment before disappearing into the crowded streets of the city below Zaksburg, nowhere to be seen when his handiwork was discovered.

 Chapter 4

    Henric Aldrimar woke, sucking in a deep breath. He was soaked in sweat and tore the covers off his bed and the clothes off of himself in disgust and threw open the shutters of his bedroom window. The young man stood there staring out into the night as cold filled the room, trying to forget the nightmare that had woke him.

    He remembered the cold pull of the current, around his ankles, the fog and the starless sky. He remembered the sound of the denizen¡¯s voice, the way it terrified him to the bone, the serpentine way it moved and sprung after him. In his dream, his uncles were not there to save him, and the denizen had quickly gained on him as he ran.

    No. He shook his head hard, as if it would shake away the fears. He took a deep breath, long and slow, and exhaled it quickly. His father had taught him that breath exercise years ago to help him keep his calm. Gareth Aldrimar had always stressed keeping a cool head. Though he did in fact feel calmer, the denizen¡¯s Death-stench would not fade, no matter how much fresh air he let in. It made him want to hurl.

    Henric¡¯s room was high in the east tower, some two hundred feet above the city and offered a great view of below. It was still dark, many hours before dawn. He stood there for a few minutes, searching for any signs of movement on the rooftops below in the moonlight. He thought he saw something for just a moment, but soon decided it was nothing. From his view, he was able to see the second gate opening to allow a group of Watchmen and some captives in. Good. They¡¯re here. He closed the shutters and stoked the embers in his fireplace back up to a small flame which added just enough light to the room. He quickly dressed himself , and lit a candle from the fireplace. With the light, he noticed he had left the Book lying open side down on his bed stand, bending the spine.

    He was about to open the door when he heard two quick knocks on his door.

    ¡°Lord Henric, I am sorry to disturb you, but I have urgent news.¡± The voice was muffled through the wood. ¡°Lord Henric?¡±

    ¡°Come in,¡± said Henric.

    It was Watch Captain Lucan that entered, and with him a fresh whiff of Death-scent. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to have disturbed you my lord.¡±

    Henric flippantly waved the apology away. ¡°It¡¯s alright Lucan, I was already awake. You have news? Is it about the men who disturbed my father¡¯s procession?¡±

    ¡°Yes, my lord,¡± nodded the captain. He was almost twice Henric¡¯s age with long, mousy hair, and his armor cut an imposing figure in the firelight. ¡°Two of our men are dead.¡±

    Two of our men are... ¡°What? How?¡±

    ¡°It appears they had a suspect in custody, but he managed to grab one of their swords and cut them down, at the cost of his own life.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s dead? What about the others?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve rounded up over a dozen men, including the swordsman.¡±

    Henric clenched his fist. Two men are dead to capture twelve?

    For a guest, navigating Castle Zaksburg by night could be treacherous even with a candle, but to Henric this place was home. Completed in three phases over five generations of Aldrimars, the castle was a network of interconnected buildings and towers, and it had taken Henric years of his childhood to learn his way around every part and shortcut. He occasionally stumbled on a new servant who managed to get themselves lost, and was always more than happy to help them find their way.

    His uncle Zak¡¯s rooms were in the south tower, only a few flights of stairs, a short walk through the library and a few more stairs. When he knocked on the door, he heard the surprised gasp of a woman through the wood. Zak said something to her, but Henric couldn¡¯t quite tell what. He heard some commotion inside, and pressed his ear up against the door to hear clearer. Maybe I should come back later, he thought too late.

    He heard someone on the other side grab at the door handle and jumped back. ¡°What!¡± said a shirtless Zak Aldrimar, all muscles and hair with a few scars. It took him a moment to recognize his nephew, and while he softened his posture only slightly, he offered no apology for his tone.

    ¡°I need to speak with you,¡± said Henric. Zak was always telling him to sound like a lord. Inside the room, a woman leaned over on the bed trying to peek out the door, falling back the instant she saw Henric. All he saw of her was a flash of fiery red hair.

    Zak shifted to block more any more of his view to the room. ¡°What about?¡± Two weeks ago, his uncle would have just told him to shove off. Since the Rites though, Henric had yet to see just how much respect his new position held with his uncle.

    ¡°Get dressed. Our guests have arrived.¡±

    "Guests? What gue... Can''t that wait until morning?" Zak looked mournfully over his shoulder.

    "Not until morning," Henric shook his head. "Lucan brought me an urgent report when he arrived. When you''re done here, come down to the Pit."

    The putrid Death-smell assaulted Henric as Captain Lucan opened the door. Inside the cell, deep in the rock beneath the castle, three corpses lay covered in bloody cloths. Two of them still in their armor, and the third dressed in a garish green tunic.

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    "We found this on that one," said Lucan, nodding towards the man in green. He handed a small coin pouch to Henric, who undid the tie and upended the contents into the palm of his hand.

    "Azrin coins," he said. Fifteen newly minted gold coins, each of them marked with the image of King Gundemaro. The inscriptions read ¡®Rey Sestil DCCXXX¡¯. Not King Erazi? ¡°They were minted only two years ago.¡±

    "I''ve seen enough," said Henric. One by one he slid the coins back into the purse, slid that purse into his pocket, and turned his back on the room. The gaoler closed the door behind them. "Who was he?"

    "Allen," said Lucan. "The Watch has had trouble with him before, but he usually comes in peaceful enough. I guess he had a history with Theric."

    Henric nodded. "And the rest of them are in the Pit?"

    "They are, my lord."

    Carved into the hard rock below Zaksburg, the hard stone walls of the Pit made the angry shouts of a dozen men sound like a hundred. Their wrists chained, the captives were allowed all the freedom sheer twenty foot walls offered. Henric stood near the edge and peered in. It was dark in the pit, their only light coming from the torch in his hand. "Fifteen," he strained to hear himself of the devil''s choir below.

    "Yes, my lord, in total," said Lucan.

    "And who are they?"

    "Petty criminals, mostly. Not one of them hasn''t made trouble before one way or another."

    "Let''s get started then." He used his hands to make a wide cone around his mouth and shouted down into the pit, "Enough!¡°

    The men quieted for a moment, before silently and unanimously deciding to renew their raging. Shouts of "fuck you","I''ll kill you", threats of ripping his cock off. Like caged animals...

    "I said enough! I have only a few questions for each of you. If you can behave yourselves and you will be compensated for your trouble and returned to your homes by morning."

    Henric signaled to a guard, and soon two other guardsmen stepped through the heavy iron gate. They pulled one of the captives out, and he was brought up to the top of the pit.

    "Wait, you''re jusht a kid!¡° remarked the man. He was dirty, covered in grease and dressed in dirty rags. His black eye and missing teeth almost made Henric feel bad for him. Stop that! This man could have been trying to kill you!

    Lucan''s men had prepared a small cell in the upper levels for Henric''s use. In turn, Henric had each one of the captives brought up and questioned. He had a cask brought down and offered each man a drink to loosen their tongues. Slowly a picture of the previous morning''s events became clear.

    Apparently, all of the men belonged to one rival gang or the other, and at their leader Allen¡¯s urging men from the north side attacked the men from the south during the procession. "He thought it would be easier since they''d all be out in the open," said one of the northsiders. "We didn''t know they''d have a sword though or I''d have brought my own."

    "So I seen them coming at us. They grabbed Rand and started beatin'' him," said the man who pulled the sword. ¡°So I pulled out my sword, and then some bitch started screaming and people was all over the place. What¡¯s any of that got to do with you?¡±

    ¡°You disturbed my father¡¯s funeral.¡± said Henric. ¡°And why did you have a sword? You know it is illegal to carry that in the city unless you are knight, a Watchman, or actively serving in my grandfather¡¯s military. I will have to confiscate the weapon.¡± The man gulped at that, but he knew nothing of any plans on Henric¡¯s life.

    ¡°Can you tell me what you were fighting about that yesterday?¡± Henric asked a vaguely rat-like man. He almost sighed at it. He had been asking questions of these men for almost an hour now, and he had hardly learned anything new.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Allen said we should. Kept saying it was a great day for it. I don¡¯t argue with Allen. You¡¯ll have to ask him. Where is he anyway?¡± The rat-man looked around the room nervously, then sipped at the beer Henric had set before him.

    ¡°He¡¯s dead.¡±

    ¡°No! How?¡±

    ¡°Resisting arrest. He killed two of my men who tried to bring him in.¡± Henric thought to himself for a moment, ¡°Why was he so focused on yesterday?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not surprised,¡± the rat-man said flatly. ¡°Just like him. He¡¯d been having meetings. None of us ever went, just him, but he had one of them tonight. At the Dancing Stone.¡±

    ¡°Meetings? With who?¡±

    ¡°I just said I never went. Can I go now?¡±

    Henric dismissed him, and ordered the guards to release the men he had captured. As Lucan escorted the captive away, Zak slipped in.

    "About time," said Henric. "What took you?"

    "I was outside," said Zak. "Listening in. You did well. Letting them all drink... You know some of them are carolling down in the Pit right now?"

    Henric laughed. "Really? They were screaming and raging earlier. This way seemed easier than hurting them."

    "Indeed." Zak grabbed a flagon and poured himself a drink from the cask. "So what do we know now?"

    Henric waited till he sat to begin. "Did you see the bodies?"

    "I did.¡±

    ¡°How can you stand the smell?¡±

    ¡°You get used to it, in time. Damn shame about them though. I''d seen Mik fight a few times in the Ring, he was fierce. Didn''t think a common thug would do him in."

    "That''s because he didn''t. Someone else is involved here, someone who wanted Allen starting a fight this morning. Someone who would rather kill him than risk him talking."

    "But who?"

    "The same person who tried to kill me this morning, and my only lead on their identity is laying dead down the hall. How do I find someone when I have no way to know who I¡¯m looking for?¡±

    Zak smirked. ¡°That¡¯s an easy one, nephew. Let them come to you.¡±

    ¡°Do you really think that¡¯s a good idea?¡± Henric couldn¡¯t look his uncle in the eyes. He could feel tears welling up, and took a deep breath to stave them off. ¡°The arrow only barely missed me last time.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll be protected,¡± said Zak.

    ¡°I was protected yesterday.¡± Henric was looking down at his cup. ¡°I almost died yesterday. I almost died a few weeks ago during my initiation. I¡¯ve seen Death uncle, I don¡¯t ever want to see it again. I wouldn¡¯t even wish it on my enemies. I¡¯d be better off if I never left the castle again.¡±

    ¡°Oh come on now, you don¡¯t mean that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just not sure I can do it uncle.¡±

    ¡°Do what?¡±

    ¡°All of this! I haven¡¯t slept a whole night through since my father died, and I¡¯ve almost died twice. I get the feeling I¡¯m not long for this world.¡±

    ¡°Henric, look at me.¡± He finally looked up from his cup. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you anything will get easier for you, but I promise I will do anything I can to help you in it.¡± Zak watched him for a moment, and sighed. ¡°Sometimes I think you forget how young you are. What you¡¯re going through would be hard for anyone. But you¡¯re not giving up either. From now on you¡¯re carrying your sword with you everywhere, and you show up at dawn for drill every morning.¡±

    ¡°You talk to me like I¡¯m a child. You don¡¯t get to tell me what to do.¡±

    ¡°You are still a child sometimes. I promised Gareth I¡¯d always be looking out for you, no matter what. You know he¡¯d say the same thing"

    "You''re right, uncle." He really was. Henric could almost hear his father¡¯s voice telling him the wisdom of his uncle¡¯s words. He sighed, and set his cup back down on the table. ¡°You¡¯re right. I¡¯m going to sleep for a few hours. I¡¯ll see you at the yard.¡±

 Chapter 5

    ¡°Hold strong men! And remember,¡± he shouted. The sky had been clear sun was hot that morning and he was already sweating in his armor, but the duke¡¯s excitement only grew. Today would be a glorious battle. He savored the wind whipping through his hair ¡°We fight today because our king would have no peace! We fight to protect our wives and our sons and daughters. We fight today because we must, may the Lords Above have mercy on us.¡±

    Before him, the assembled knights and their armies from half the kingdom shouted back ¡°Amen!¡±

    Henric recognized the royal emblem on the king¡¯s shield, leveled his lance, and charged headlong at him. The king soon recognized him as well, and brought his lance to bear. They smashed gloriously against each other, lances shattering to splinters against the other¡¯s shield. Henric brought his horse around and drew the sword. He swung, their swords clashed, again and again. When the first fell off his the other dismounted as well and the bitter rivals continued their fight on the ground.

    The Death-stench had grown powerful all around them, and it filled Henric. All around him, men spilled each other¡¯s blood and it began to seem as though he could see the clouds of Death steaming off the blood of fallen soldiers.

    The two Henrics, duke and king, were locked in mortal combat, neither willing to concede to the other. Their whole lives had been for this, to finally end the bloody conflict begun by their grandfather¡¯s half a century ago.

    He felt a sharp pain in his leg. ¡°Ahhhg!¡± The knight behind him had a blue and white shield, and the tip of his sword was red with Henric¡¯s blood. ¡°How could you, Doryan?¡± He felt Doryan¡¯s shield bash into the back of his helmet, and suddenly the ground rushed up to meet his face.

    He opened his eyes to darkness. It felt like there had always been darkness, but Duke Henric remembered otherwise. He remembered the sunshine on his skin, the wind blowing through his hair, the smell of autumn rains. In this cell, there had never been sunlight, no breeze could ever blow, and the only smell was Death.

    Henric had spent the first weeks of his time here spilling his guts, hardly able to keep anything down because of the smell. It didn¡¯t come from any one place, but instead pervaded the whole of his small cell equally. He used to wonder how that was possible, but no more.

    ¡°Aldrimar¡±

    There it was. The voice that was not a voice that sent shivers down his spine. It was the only company he had, and he hated it.

    ¡°Aldrimar. Come now, speak to me. I have something I wish to tell you.¡±

    ¡°No. Leave me be.¡±

    ¡°You know I won¡¯t do that.¡±

    He did. Henric had fought against it before, and each time he was punished. Still, it was better to fight, wasn¡¯t it? He felt a wave of nausea wash over him, and he heaved.

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    ¡°You¡¯re so stubborn Aldrimar.¡± It laughed, and Henric heaved again, and fell to his knees on the floor. He was lucky he hadn¡¯t been fed for a while and his stomach was empty. ¡°But you¡¯re fun.¡±

    ¡°Fine. What is it?¡±

    ¡°I had something I wanted to share with you.¡±

    ¡°Yes? Out with it demon.¡±

    ¡°Demon?¡± It laughed. ¡°Is that what you think I am?¡±

    They had played this game hundreds of times before, and it had never been forthcoming with what it really was. It had only revealed its name, Draciat. ¡°Why not?¡±

    ¡°If you don¡¯t wish to guess any longer, I suppose that would do.¡±

    ¡°Go on, you said you had something to share?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I do. Though perhaps you knew. Your son is dead.¡±

    ¡°My... son?¡± He remembered the faces of his three sons the last time he had seen them. His heir Gareth, a grown man with a son of his own. Zak, just becoming a man. And young Samael crying as his father was taken away in chains. ¡°Which son?¡±

    But a wave of nausea washed over him, and he felt pressure building behind his eyes. Suddenly he was out in a field, wind blowing through his hair. Before them, armored men charged at each other with lances and swords. Henric recognized his own banner flying high above one group of men, watched his men rush headlong into a group loyal to the Lenese king. Horror struck him as another group of Lenes knights rode over the ridge, and smashed down on his son¡¯s side. The fighting was over quickly and soon Henric was standing over his son, Gareth, bleeding from his side where stuck by a lance.

    And in a blink he was back in the darkness of his cell. Henric felt tears running down his cheeks and cursed himself, he might have needed the fluid. ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± he began to say.

    ¡°Don¡¯t what? Stop? If you insist, there¡¯s plenty more.¡±

    The nausea washed over him again. He watched as his son Zak, now a grown man stood atop castle walls hacking down each enemy that climbed up, only to take an arrow through the neck and collapse onto the ground.

    "No!" shouted Henric.

    The scene shifted, and we watched his youngest son, Samael sitting alone, take a sip of wine and turn purple as he choked. "Please, make it stop!¡°

    Then it showed him a young man who he hardly a moment to recognize as his grandson, the boy Henric, before he was consumed in a great blast. "Why? Why are you doing this to me?"

    "This is your doom Aldrimar. The punishment for all those who bear your name."

    This isn''t real, Henric thought. But the visions came quicker now. A young man fell from a high wall into the sea rocks below as a baby screamed in the tower above. A man set upon by outlaws and strung up like a common poacher. One man drove his blade through another on a balcony looking out over a sprawling city below.

    Henric reached his hand out, feeling for the wall he knew had to still be there. In spite of his vision, he felt the cold, rough stone of the floor beneath his fingers and followed it over to the wall. "Make it stop!¡° he shouted, but the voice, Draciat only laughed.

    Still more visions came, men and women died over and over before him. He did not recognize most beyond their sandy hair and green eyes of the Aldrimars. Henric slammed his head against the wall, "Make it stop!" But Draciate offered him no repreive, and so he slammed his head into the wall again. And again. He could feel the hot wet of blood running down his face. He could feel the pain numbing him, but the visions were still worse. He saw a man and his army swallowed by a black horde. It took all his effort to raise his head again, and this time he could only let it fall. He heard the crack of his own skull, and knew it would soon be over.

    The visions soon began to fade. Blackness was closing in all around him and he felt very weak. Finally, thought Henric. I will be free!

    As he lay there in his cell deep below the Capitol, bleeding out, dying, Duke Henric Aldrimar the Third heard one last thing from his longtime tormentor. "Farewell, Aldrimar. We shall see each other again, soon."

 Chapter 6

    Rua had been following the fat man for three weeks. He had first noticed him and his small menagerie of armed guards as he left the Aldrimar¡¯s castle one evening. At first he had mistook the man for some visiting dignitary and paid little attention to him. It would still be several more days before he would notice him arriving again and passing through the gates unhindered.

    He had tried those gates himself, but without the proper papers the guards would not let him through. Rua had contemplated attempting a forgery, but he did not know what the proper papers looked like. He had looked for other ways up as well, but the castle was built atop a sheer rock rising up out of the river valley. There was no other way up but the gates without the potential of being noticed by half the city as he climbed.

    When the fat man was let up through the gate for the third time that week, Rua knew he had to follow him when he left. Carefully, he climbed down from his rooftop perch and followed the man through the city streets that evening. His quarry had a companion with him, and both men were dressed in bright, colorful silks, and were surrounded by six men with iron helmets and swords at their belts. Rua followed behind them, only just close enough to pick up parts of their conversation over the busy streets.

    ¡°So, what did you think of our future duke?¡± asked the fat man.

    ¡°I am unimpressed, Thomias,¡± said the shorter, bald one. So his name is Thomias. ¡°He spent half the meeting staring out the window and hardly said a word. His uncle did all the talking for him.¡±

    ¡°Give him time, give him time,¡± said Thomias. ¡°Henric has always been a bright boy, but he grieves for his father right now. Give him time, you¡¯ll see.¡±

    ¡°How much time? It was undignified how we were treated! What if this is simply how it will be with him? What will you do then?¡±

    The fat man raised a meaty hand to stroke his chin, then laughed as though he had seen some farce. ¡°You are such a fool Doggen. A disinterested ruler suits our needs just fine. If we convince the boy to establish a ministry, we stand to gain more under his rule than any before.¡±

    Doggen¡¯s face and the top of his bald head turned a deep red. ¡°I hadn¡¯t thought of it that way.¡±

    ¡°No, of course you didn¡¯t Doggen,¡± Thomias patted his companion on the back, almost knocking the shorter, balding man off his feet. ¡°That¡¯s why I am Mayor and you are not.¡±

    Doggen looked around. They had come to an intersection where two of the city¡¯s main thoroughfares formed into a large square. Doggen motioned to the Northriver road, and said ¡°This is where I leave you, your mayorship.¡±

    ¡°Farewell Doggen!¡± said Thomias. He turned, and continued down the West Road. Rua followed him to a large home in the middle of the city, a few blocks from the cathedral square. Two more guards stood outside the oak double-doors, and opened them for him with a ¡®Welcome home.¡±

    Rua had been following the mayor back and forth from the castle for two weeks now. The way he moved from one hiding spot to another had become routine, a daily dance through the streets below Zaksburg. His routine almost outed him when he mechanically made to move across an alleyway only to see the mayor take an unusual turn, towards Southriver.

    They wound up outside a small, well kept shop in the tradesman¡¯s quarter. He could hear the clinks of hammers on stone coming through the shops open door. The mayor went inside, and his guards stood outside, waiting. Less than an hour later, the mayor and his guards were on their way, but Rua stayed behind and slipped inside the shop.

    He bowed his head as he crossed the low doorway into the ceilinged room shop. Each step kicked up dust from the wooden floor. Small stonework trinkets lined shelves on one wall. There was nobody to tend the counter or watch the door, allowing him a full view of a shorter man with wooly black hair shouting commands at his two apprentices as they chiseled away at a block of marble.

    ¡°You heard the mayor!¡± said the man. ¡°He¡¯s not going to pay us until we are able to unveil it. Work faster!¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t work any faster Halad,¡± said the blond boy, maybe sixteen, as he chipped away at what seemed to be an emerging shoulderblade.

    The dark-haired boy stopped his work entirely to plead with his master, ¡°We¡¯ll ruin it and have to start over like last time.¡±

    ¡°No, not like last time because YOU aren¡¯t going to make any mistakes this time. You cannot afford any mistakes, or I will have to find new apprentices. I told the mayor we would be ready to present it to the young lord Henric by next Friday.¡±

    ¡°Friday!¡± both boys cried at once, but offered no more argument. They returned to their work, and the who shop was again filled with the rhythmic chink of hammer and chisel and stone.

    Satisfied, the stonecutter turned around. It took him a moment to notice the tall man standing in his entryway and he gasped.

    "Well hello my good man," said Halad. He stepped around the counter and spread both arms out in a welcoming gesture. "Have you had a look around? Is there something I can do for you?"

    Rua felt a plan forming in the back of his mind. "Actually sir," Rua let his foreign accent out, carefully saying each syllable as if for the first time. "I come to know if you have work."

    Halad gave him a puzzled look, "you want to know if I have work? This is my shop, of course I have work!¡°

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    "No! For me. Have work for me."

    "Oh." Halad looked him over for a minute then said, "No, I''ve no room to take on any more help."

    This time it was Rua''s turn to play confused. "But I come here because you need work. They say you teach."

    "Teach?" He thought for another moment. "What''s your name son?"

    "Varu.¡± It was his native word for liar.

    "I only teach apprentices Varu, and apprentices do not get paid."

    Rua did his best to look excited. "But you teach?"

    Halad nodded.

    "Oh thank you thank you!¡° Rua reached out and took his hand, shaking it vigorously in a parody of the Erazi''s strange custom.

    Though Halad did not pay, he had offered to let Rua stay on one of the extra straw mats he had upstairs. He would be sharing a room with the two younger boys, but it was "no more than a grown man still apprenticing deserves."

    That night, once the others had drifted off to sleep, Rua crept quietly downstairs into the workshop. By the faint light of the two moons he investigated their work. The marble block was some six feet tall, three feet wide and deep. Their past month''s work had whittled that block down into the emerging likeness of a man standing tall, with a noble cast to his features. Yes, this will do nicely. His plan was coming together.

    The next week was a busy one. By day he played bumbling apprentice in Halad''s shop, proving just skilled enough with hammer and chisel that he was trusted to handle the less nuanced work. By night, he snuck away from Halad''s and began gathering supplies.

    Easiest to find had been the fuel, charcoal pilfered from a nearby blacksmith. It had just been sitting in a large metal bucket behind the smith. Rua counted himself lucky, because it would take him the rest of the week to get the rest of the supplies he needed.

    None of the merchants Rua approached had a significant portion of sulfur, and charged an arm and a leg for what small amounts they had. He was separated from five of his gold coins over the next week in exchange for enough sulfur to match as much charcoal had he had stolen.

    He had to go all the way across the north river to find a dungshack. Apparently, the city had most of its waste swept away and brought to an order of monks who processed and refined it into some religious oil. This particular dungshack was too far away from the monastery on the west end of town, and in so poor a neighborhood as to be the most convenient waste dump. It was run by a man called Ulman.

    A candle was lit in the window of the shack, and Rua could hear the clanging of pots and pans inside. Rua knocked on the door.

    ¡°What? Who¡¯s there?¡± came a muffled voice through the door. The old man opened the door just a crack, ¡°What do you want?¡±

    "I am looking for Ulman."

    The door shut in Rua''s face. He could hear fiddling with metal locks inside, and then the door flung wide open. The first thing Rua noticed about him were his robes. They reminded him of a monk''s, only far more stained and worn. He had a bald head, with stark white tufts of fluff about his ears. "A customer? Come in, come in.¡±

    The old man¡¯s hovel was a cluttered mess. Tables lined two walls and were covered in all sorts of odds and ends; glass bottles, tubes of copper, pots, pans, and stills. He had a small stove in one corner, as well as a rough straw pile across from it where he must have slept. To Rua¡¯s right, next to the window, was another, smaller table stacked high with books with names like ¡°Of Sacred Oils and Their Production" and "The Properties of Salts". He blew a few puffs of air into the stove, and the flame quickly rose.

    ¡°I don¡¯t usually expect customers so late. What can I do for you... you? What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°I am called Mora¡¯ai.¡± It meant untrustworthy stranger. ¡°I need Loamsalt. It seems I''ve come to the right place."

    "The right place, aye" said the old man. "Sounds like you''ve come a long way, and you''ve arrived just in time, I should have a new batch ready in a fortnight. How much would you need?"

    A fortnight was too long. Rua thought about the other question a moment. He''d spotted a jar in Halad''s about the size of his head. "Half a pound."

    "Half a... what!? That''s half my production. I have orders for more two thirds of the batch already. No, that will be impossible."

    ¡°You¡¯ll just have to cancel some orders then,¡± Rua dropped his heavy coin purse on the table. ¡°As you can see, I can pay well. And I need it by wednesday.¡±

    ¡°Five days? You¡¯re mad! That just isn¡¯t possible.¡±

    ¡°I need it by wednesday,¡± he said again. ¡°How much can you get me by then?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t get you any. A priest may have some, and I could distill some from their oils, but I cannot provide enough in five days with my meager operations.¡±

    ¡°A priest?¡± Rua thought about that a moment. Over the years, he had made a point to keep out of the affairs of holy men. Rua was not an overly religious man, but he had decided it best to avoid the ire of the gods anyway. But if he must... He turned and opened the door and went out into the night

    It took two nights to find the monastery where it sat along the bank of the south river on the west end of the city. Its low walls served merely as a deterrent, and Rua had no trouble getting onto the grounds once he found them. Hiding behind well-manicured bushes, he watched and waited as two sentries stood around for a few moments before continuing on their way. Once the yard was cleared, he continued his search. He found the low, wide building and it¡¯s companion lean-to near the riverside. Under the lean-to, a hundred small mounds of waste and compost sat rotting, and Rua knew he had found the right place.

    Listening carefully for anyone inside, Rua attempted to open the door. It was locked. He circled around the building and found a small, shuttered window. With his knife, Rua forced open the shutter¡¯s lock, the shutters clacked against the wall, and slipped inside. He had only the dim moonlight from his opened window to light the room, he was forced to pull out his tinderbox and a candle from his cloak, and lit it.

    The whole building was a single large room twice as long as it was wide, and like Ulmans, was filled with tables with all kinds of bottles and stills. Against the far wall he found what he was looking for, a shelf lined with small bottles. Rua uncorked one of the bottles, and poured a grain or two out onto his candle, turning it¡¯s flame purple for a moment. Perfect.

    Rua was grateful for the extra pockets in his cloak, and stuffed as many of the bottles as he could into them. In his haste, he accidentally knocked a bottle from the shelf where it shattered on the ground. He grabbed one more.

    ¡°Hey!¡± someone was at the door, working the mechanism to open it. ¡°Jon, somebody is in here!¡± Rua moved back to the opened window, careful not to drop any bottles out of the coat.

    More light filled the room from the door, and Rua was face to face with a monk, torch in hand. He dodged backwards. The monk saw him, and began chasing him through the lab.

    Rua ran around the table, and slipped past the monk out through the door. He was out into the night, dashing across the grounds. With only a bit more carefulness than before, he was over the wall and away into the city.

    By the time he stashed the bottles and his cloak in his safe place with his bow, the sky was already beginning to take on its predawn grey. It was dawn by the time he made it back to Halad''s and snuck back onto his cot. He lay there for an hour in silence before anyone woke, thinking of how next friday would be his last day in the city, and Henric Aldrimar''s last day alive.

 Chapter 7

    ¡°Hey! Henric!¡± someone called across the yard. He wanted to turn his head and look, but he had no time. Instead, he brought his sword up to block Jaren¡¯s. The older boy twisted his sword, and wrenched Henric¡¯s from his grip.

    ¡°Give up?¡± Jaren¡¯ blade was at Henric¡¯s throat.

    ¡°You win, Jaren,¡± said Henric, grabbing the blunted edge with his gloved hand and shoving it away from him. He looked around for whoever had called for him, but saw only the usual crowd of servants and stable hands worming their way through the garrison at drill.

    ¡°You¡¯ll fare better when you can keep that sword in your hands,¡± said Jaren as he handed Henric back his sword.

    ¡°Thanks...¡±

    Jaren was only a year older than Henric and the closest in the garrison to him in age and experience, but had at least forty pounds on him. Their first sparring match had reminded Henric of something his father had told him about the scarcity of fair fights. He was just glad he hadn¡¯t ended up in the dirt this time.

    ¡°Henric!¡±

    ¡°Megan!¡± He smiled when he saw the girl and her brother standing on the other side of a hay bale that marked the training ring.¡°Mathev! Hey guys!¡±

    As he ran over to them, the acorn haired girl climbed up onto the bale and jumped at him. He almost wanted to dodge out of the way, before realizing he was supposed to catch her. Instead all he managed was to break her fall into the dirt blow. Henric heard some of the men at arms laughing.

    ¡°You were supposed to catch me,¡± she said.

    ¡°Lords Above Megan, you almost killed him,¡± said her twin as he climbed over the bale after her.

    ¡°No,¡± grunted Henric. He wedged an arm beneath himself, and rolled the girl off of him into the dirt and straw. He took Mathev¡¯s outstretched hand to pull himself up. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±

    Megan was already back on her feet, brushing dirt and hay off of her modest green dress and giving her brother a death glare. ¡°That¡¯s not funny Matt.¡±

    It took a moment for Mathev to catch his sister¡¯s meaning, and a look of horror struck his face. ¡°Oh no! Henric I¡¯m so sorry! Are you alright?¡±

    ¡°Of course I am, don¡¯t worry about it,¡± said Henric. Looking at them, he realized how sweaty he was in his gear. ¡°Here, follow me. I¡¯ve got to get these off.¡±

    They followed him through the yard to the armory where he hung up his training sword and tried to remove his leathers himself. Unfortunately, the knot on his back had slipped just out of his reach. The twins giggled at the sight.

    ¡°A little help?¡± asked Henric. Megan reached over and undid the knot with a single tug on the leather strap.

    ¡°Ew,¡± she said. ¡°You stink.¡±

    ¡°So would you if you¡¯d been up since dawn in the yard with Jaren.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯d mind that,¡± she said, looking over her shoulder into the yard. Henric hung his armor back on the rack.

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t,¡± said Mathev. ¡°C¡¯mon, let¡¯s go.¡± He motioned to the door out to the castle. ¡°Our lord¡¯s got a lot of catching us up to do.¡±

    They walked back to the castle, Megan a step ahead of the two boys. They had been gone for the last year in the Capitol with their father Marek.

    "When did you get in?" asked Henric.

    "Last night," said Mathev. "We went home first. I never realized how much I missed my own bed."

    "Not me, I never wanted to come back," said Megan. "Nothing compares to the capital."

    "So you liked it there?" asked Henric.

    She turned around, walking backwards as she spoke. "You''ve been there right? All the people, the singers, the ships! I''m sorry, but home doesn''t even compare."

    "Don''t listen to her Henric. It wasn''t really as great as all that."

    They let themselves into the mess hall by a side door. It was late in the breakfast hour, and only a few stragglers were scattered about the simple tables. Their conversations echoed off the hard stone walls, filling the room with the sound of a thousand whispers.

    "Megan!¡° squeaked a girly voice on the other side of the hall, silencing all conversation. Beth, Henric''s sister stood, skidding her chair back against the stone and rushed around the table to hug the younger girl. Beth was a year older than Henric, and had been friends with the twins as long as he had. "Gods Megan I''ve missed you!¡°

    "I missed you too Beth! I hope my letters were enough to stave off your boredom without me around."

    Henric and the twins sat down at the table with Beth and their other sister, Adelin.

    "I missed you too Megan," said Adelin. She had always looked up to the older girl. Where Beth had always needed Megan''s prodding to keep up with the boys, Adelin tried to emulate the older girl in everything she did. "Did you have any adventures in the capital?"

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    "Loads!¡° said Megan. "I can''t wait to tell you all about them."

    "It''s nice to see you ladies again too," said Mathev, looking a bit dejected. Henric was too busy eating to add to the conversation, training made him hungry.

    The girls went on gossiping and catching each other up on all the fashions and intrigues that they had missed. When the conversation veered towards boys, Henric gave Mathev an elbow nudge.

    "Let''s get out of here," he whispered. His friend nodded, and they got up from the table. "See you ladies later." They were ignored.

    "I''m sorry about your dad," said Mathev as the crested stairs to the top of the wall. "He was a really good man." The sun was bright that morning and the day would be a warm one. From up here they could see almost everything in the valley below, birds flying from tree to tree, the farmers across the river in their fields, and right below them they could watch the bustle of the city.

    "Thanks, Matt," said Henric. He didn''t know what else to say to that. He''d gotten plenty of condolences in the month since his father''s death, and simply run out of gracious thank yous.

    "But it''s kind of exciting right? Being a lord now?"

    Henric laughed. "Less so than we always imagined it would be..." He thought back on all the documents he had to sign, some to reconfirm his father''s appointees, others approving official expenditures on supplies for construction projects in the city and the castle. "A lot of signing papers, and a whole lot of ''important ceremonial duties''. And my life is constantly in danger. I haven''t left the castle since my father''s funeral."

    ¡°Shit,¡± said Mathev. ¡°So someone really did try to kill you?¡±

    Henric¡¯s held up his hands in the air so they framed the sides of his head. ¡°They missed by this much. The arrow stuck in my father¡¯s casket instead.¡±

    Mathev was silent for a moment, looking out over the city. "So how do we catch this guy? Do you have any leads?"

    Henric looked at his childhood friend. He''d gotten taller in his year away, and seemed more serious than the boy he used to play knights and bandits with. "I don''t know Mathev. Lucan and the watch have been searching the city for a week and found no trace of any assassin. I''m afraid they''ll turn up nothing."

    "Oh. But you''re not going to stay up here forever, right? That''s not very ''ducal''."

    This time it was Henric''s turn for contemplative silence. Mathev was right, of course. If he really wanted to live up to his birthright, he couldn''t spend the rest of his life afraid for it. But did he? He had thought about letting Zak or Samael assume the title instead, or possibly passing it to one of his lord cousins. Then he wouldn''t have to rule, his life wouldn''t be in constant danger. He would even have his chance next week when the lords Aldrimar met for Council. Somewhere deep inside himself though, he knew he was being foolish. He could almost hear his father shouting at him, "You would surrender your birthright? You would run away from the life you were meant for? Then you have no right to call yourself Aldrimar."

    "No, I suppose I can''t," said Henric.

    "Good. I thought I was going to need to find a new best friend."

    "There they are," said a voice on the stairs behind them. Both boys turned to see Marek, chancellor of Zaksburg and Gareth Aldrimar''s right hand man, with Samael right behind. Marek reached out a hand and offered it to him. "Henric my boy, good to see you again. Or should I say ''my lord''?"

    "You can call me whatever you like, unofficially," said Henric. "Officially though, it''s best to use my honors."

    Marek chuckled a moment before turning to his son. "Sorry to do this to you son, but there is important business for Henric and I to discuss. Watchmaster Lucan has arrived with a report for my lord."

    Mathev sighed. "Alright, I''ll find something to entertain myself."

    Henric knew how he felt being left out of the important conversations, a few weeks ago he would have been right there with his friend. "I''ll see you soon Mathev. Maybe I''ll finally beat you with a sword."

    Mathev gave him a goofy grin and took up a fencing stance. "Just because you''ve been practicing a little? I grew, Henric, you don''t stand a chance."

    Henric shook his head and grinned. "Just... Thanks Matt. I''m glad you''re back."

    Lucan was waiting for them with Zak in the council chamber conversing with Zak.

    ¡°Have you ever seen Roban fight? Now there¡¯s a tough bastard,¡± said Zak.

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t have anything on Varnen,¡± said Lucan. ¡°Roban¡¯s big sure, but I¡¯ve watched Varnen slip get behind a man and send his knees before the crowd could even start cheering for him.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong Luc, Varnen¡¯s good. But I¡¯ve fought Roban, and blocking one of his blows felt like my arm was gonna be ripped off.¡±

    ¡°He almost did, didn¡¯t he?¡± asked Lucan.

    ¡°No,¡± said Samael. ¡°He just dislocated it. I remember that fight, there was a moment there I almost thought you had him Zak.¡±

    When he looked up and saw Henric, Lucan snapped back onto his feet at attention. ¡°My lord! I have news to report.¡±

    ¡°Is it about the assassin?¡± asked Henric as he descended past concrete benches to the chamber floor, past Lucan. The council chamber was a large room on the southeast side of the castle, with large windows looking out over the river and the countryside below. Henric¡¯s official seat was at the table high on a raised platform with his back to these windows, and if he looked down from there it seemed as though there were no ground below him. As he sat, Marek and Samael sat on either side of him and Zak climbed his way into one of the chairs at the very end.

    ¡°No, my lord. There was an incident at Saint Elberts, a robbery.¡±

    ¡°At Saint Elberts? Truly? What was stolen?¡± Henric was surprised. He had thought the monastery served largely as a residence hall for the holy men in service to the cathedral and was hardly the place he would have suspected of a robbery.

    ¡°A bit more than half a pound of something called loamsalt,¡± said Lucan.

    ¡°Loamsalt?¡± asked Henric.

    ¡°It is an essential ingredient to the seventh oil of the Rites,¡± said Samael. ¡°It¡¯s quite a process to derive it, and half a pound would go for...¡± He stopped to do the calculation in his head. ¡°At least five goldens.¡±

    ¡°But why?¡± asked Zak, stealing Henric¡¯s question before it left his lips. ¡°What good is the stuff?¡±

    Everyone looked to Samael for an answer. ¡°Some butchers use it to salt their meats. It¡¯s expensive, but to rob priests for it?¡± Samael shook his head.

    ¡°When did this happen Lucan?¡± asked Henric.

    ¡°The night before last, my lord. I will have my men question the city¡¯s butchers.¡±

    Good old Lucan. Henric could see why his father had appointed Lucan. In his five years as a watchman, Lucan had proved he was able to outwit and apprehend a remarkable number of nerdowells, and his two years as captain had transformed the Watch into a fine tuned machine of justice. ¡°Good. No need to bring anyone in, just ask about their sources, but don¡¯t forget, I want a report as soon as possible. Thank you Lucan. You are dismissed.¡±

    The captain¡¯s tension fell away and he turned on his heels towards the chambers double doors. Beside him, the others were making to stand as well. ¡°Oh, one more thing,¡± said Henric. ¡°I don¡¯t want any word of this getting out to the Lords Aldrimar when they arrive tomorrow. Not about this, and not about the assassin. Understood?¡±

 Chapter 8

    ¡°Good, the boys are gone,¡± said Adelin. The younger girl had a wicked look on her face. ¡°Now you can tell us all about the boys in the capital.¡±

    Megan hadn¡¯t even noticed them leave, she¡¯d been so wrapped up Beth¡¯s telling of her sister Alix¡¯s most recent string of suitors. Seeing her old friends had made her forget how much she missed the capital and how awful the past two weeks had been since she¡¯d left.

    She shot Beth a helpless glance, but her friend¡¯s forest green eyes were staring back at her eagerly. Gossip fiends these girls...

    ¡°Oh yes!¡± said Beth. ¡°Tell us about Antoine.¡±

    ¡°Oooh who¡¯s Antoine?¡± asked Adelin.

    Megan felt flushed and instantly regretted including him in her letters.

    ¡°Antoine Doryan,¡± said Beth. ¡°The duke¡¯s nephew, he¡¯s in love with her.¡±

    ¡°Oh come on now,¡± said Megan. Antoine had been at court for a few years with his father, and had been courteous with her when she¡¯d first arrived. ¡°It wasn¡¯t like that. He was only being gentleman.¡±

    ¡°And if only he¡¯d been a little less so,¡± said Beth.

    ¡°What did he look like?¡± asked Adelin.

    ¡°He was tall,¡± said Megan. ¡°He had long, brown hair and the bluest eyes I¡¯d ever seen. And he was strong too. You could feel it when you danced with him.¡±

    ¡°So did you kiss him?¡± asked Beth. ¡°You said you were going to?¡±

    Sometimes Megan wished her friend would forget something she read once in a while. She shook her head. ¡°Almost.¡±

    The Aldrimar sisters were sitting, watching her, rapt in attention.

    Megan continued. ¡°He invited me to attend a ball with him a few weeks after we arrived. We danced, and ate and he was very gallant. There were a few times while we danced I thought he was going to, but he never did.¡±

    ¡°Aww,¡± said Adelin. ¡°What a jerk!¡±

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    Megan laughed. Adelin Aldrimar was two years younger than Megan, and had always had a knack for making her laugh.

    ¡°He wasn¡¯t being a jerk, Addy,¡± said Megan, even though she couldn¡¯t help agree with the younger girl. ¡°He was just being a gentleman, like I said. What about you two? Surely something interesting happened while I was gone.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± started Beth.

    ¡°No,¡± said Adelin. ¡°Not here. We can tell her later.¡±

    ¡°Tell me what?¡± Megan looked between the two golden haired sisters. ¡°What¡¯s going on.¡±

    ¡°Are you done eating?¡± asked Beth.

    Megan nodded. All three of them had finished eating a while ago, and had just been sitting and chatting at the table.

    ¡°Good,¡± said Adelin. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    Looking out the great window of the Aldrimar¡¯s library reminded Megan of just how different this place was from the capital. From here, one could still see unbroken forests and untamed, hilly countryside, while in Zael, the King¡¯s Palace, one could only see the city and the sea. She¡¯d used to think Zaksburg was a large city, but it was little more than a sleepy hamlet by comparison. Still, she loved this view. The Aldrimar¡¯s library had always been one of her favorite places to play, and many of her fondest memories happened in this room.

    She heard the creak and clack of a door slamming shut on the balcony above. Adelin stuck her head out over the banister, and called out ¡°All clear.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± asked Megan. ¡°Why all the cloak and dagger?¡±

    They had snuck all the way from the great hall, and neither girl would tell her why.

    ¡°It all started a few months ago,¡± said Beth. ¡°Father sent Henric a book, and ever since he and uncle Zak have been all kinds of secretive about it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Adelin as she made her way down the spiral staircase. ¡°They pretend like there is no book. But even Samael¡¯s in on it.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± asked Megan. ¡°That¡¯s... weird?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know the half of it,¡± said Beth. ¡°They¡¯ve been disappearing, saying they¡¯re going hunting but not bringing any bows or spears. And a few weeks ago, Henric came back from one of their trips with a tattoo on his hand.¡±

    Now that she mentioned it, Megan had noticed the vaguely eye-like marks on the back of Henric¡¯s left hand in the armory.

    ¡°It¡¯s the same tattoo Zak and Sam have,¡± said Beth as her sister flopped into one of the library¡¯s comfortable, overstuffed chairs. ¡°Father had it too, and none of them will tell us what it is.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re just being paranoid,¡± said Megan.

    ¡°Not at all,¡± said Adelin. ¡°I overheard them talking once, planning something, and they stopped as soon as they knew I could hear them. There¡¯s something they don¡¯t want us to know.¡±

    ¡°I guess,¡± said Megan. She had been meaning to ask him about the tattoo. ¡°Maybe.¡±

    ¡°And now that you¡¯re here, you can help us,¡± said Beth.

    ¡°Yeah!¡± said Adelin.

    ¡°Help? How?¡± asked Megan.

    The Aldrimar sisters exchanged glances and nodded.

    ¡°Henric might tell you,¡± said Beth. ¡°Or Mathev. And you can get things out of him right?¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± Megan¡¯s twin brother had never been able to keep a secret from her, usually offering them up willingly. ¡°I mean, if he tells me anything.¡±

    The sisters grinned pretty, mischievous grins.

 Chapter 9

    The Lords Aldrimar and their attendants had been filing into the city since before dawn, each with blaring trumpets and streaming banners. Four times that morning the gates had opened, and four times Henric had sat waiting in the courtyard to receive each of the counts in their turn. Henric was glad for the warm, clear morning which let him wear his most comfortable summer formal wear a little ahead of season. He wasn¡¯t sure he could have endured another day of pomp and ceremony overdressed for the cold mornings and sweating by midday.

    Most of the nobility of the castle assembled outside to welcome their guests. Henric¡¯s mother and sisters, his uncles and their mother, Marek and his children, along with the household knights.

    First to arrive that morning were Count Markan and his younger brother Gelden of Marche, along with sixteen armed men and two attendants for each of the young lords. Their lands were north of Zaksburg, along the border with Barethil. Count Markan was six years older than Henric, and stood a full head taller than he did. He strode right up to Henric and embraced him.

    ¡°Good to see you again my lord cos!¡± said Markan. He had a warm tenor voice and an easy smile.

    ¡°And you,¡± said Henric. ¡°You too Gelden. I¡¯m glad you both could make it.¡±

    The younger brother was a bit younger than Henric, and still looked like a little boy next to his brother. His blonde hair was longer and curlier than his brothers, which did little to help how young he seemed. In spite of their close ages, Henric hadn¡¯t ever spent much time with Gelden. ¡°Thank you,¡± was all he said.

    Markan had already moved down the line, shaking hands and hugging his distant relations, but stopped when he got to Zak. ¡°Zak! I missed you at my tournament last fall, what happened cos?¡±

    ¡°What happened? It was in Marche!¡± said Zak. ¡°I don¡¯t fight for country crowds!¡±

    Markan laughed. ¡°Oh, but the fighters were magnificent! I hurt all over for a week afterwards!¡±

    Zak was laughing too. ¡°So who won that one then? I never did hear.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t?¡± Markan looked surprised. ¡°DuErden took home twenty pounds of my gold.¡±

    Those two continued on like that for a few minutes. Henric could the hushed whispers among Alix and Beth¡¯s ladies in waiting. Though his brother had moved on, Gelden was still hanging nervously about near Henric.

    ¡°Feel free to head inside Geld,¡± said Henric. ¡°There is a meal being prepared in the great hall to welcome you all.¡±

    ¡°Oh, thanks.¡± And the boy went inside the castle.

    Within the hour, the gates opened again to usher in the grey haired Arnult, lord of the western county of Limos. More than three decades Henric¡¯s senior, Arnult was still a fierce warrior and veteran of the Rebellions, and quite possibly the only man alive who had actually known Henric the second, from whom they all claimed descent. In that time, Arnult¡¯s one proud, thick golden mane had faded to grey.

    When Arnult dismounted from his horse, he bowed low before Henric, his fine black cloak scraping the dirt. ¡°My lord Henric, thank you for your hospitality.¡± He turned and looked Henric¡¯s mother and sisters in the eyes, ¡°My condolences to you for the loss of Gareth. He was a wise man and a good lord.¡±

    ¡°Sank you, Lord A¡¯nult,¡± said Lady Kris.

    ¡°Indeed, your kindness is much appreciated my lord. I hope I can live up to my father¡¯s memory.¡±

    The old man seemed to approve of Henric¡¯s formality, nodded, and then continued his way down the line to make his greetings. Unlike Count Markan, Count Arnult let himself inside the castle, preferring to find a comfortable place to sit.

    As they waited for their last arrival, the Count of Uxerre, Zak had found an old ball in one of the storage rooms off the courtyard, and was kicking it back and forth with Count Markan. Soon, Henric and Mathev, and even Beth, Megan, and Adelin had joined into their makeshift game of kicking the ball back and forth between each other without using their hands, while Samael sat in the dirt reading some old book with a red cloth binding. They had finally worked up a good sweat when Count Phillip arrived.

    His lands were the southernmost of all Aldrimar possessions, and were the most connected to the rest of the Erazi kingdom. Because of this connection, Lord Uxerre had been able to collect substantial taxes on the merchants that traveled the kingdom, making him incredibly wealthy.

    This wealth reflected itself in the way he dressed and in the menagerie of attendants who followed him. Phillip was tall and strongly built, his brown eyes and his short cut brown hair gave him hard look. He was bristly and ambitious, and Henric recalled at least a few occasions of his father complaining about the pretensions of the Count of Uxerre.

    ¡°Welcome, Lord Phillip, it is good to see you again,¡± said Henric.

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    ¡°Indeed.¡± He wiped the sweat from Henric¡¯s palm off on his cloak, and bowed low to Henric¡¯s mother and kissed her hand. Watching it made him bristle a bit.

    Henric looked around to assess who was still in the yard. He had noticed that Count Arnult had brought a chair out from the hall and had set it at the top of the steps. Gelden sat beside him, listening intently as Arnult spoke.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you could join us Count Phillip,¡± said Henric. ¡°We must be on our way.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me?¡± the Count was surprised. ¡°On our way where?¡±

    ¡°There is a ceremony in town for the unveiling of a commemorative statue of my father. It would only be right for all of us to attend.¡±

    And soon, all of those assembled were on their way down the bluff into the city below. They were met by Mayor Thomias in the Lord¡¯s Square, where Henric still remembered the sight of that sea of people crashing about. He took a deep breath and steeled himself, he was in no danger.

    He had made sure of that, assigning his knights to assist the Watch in securing the city around the procession. Lucan had even positioned men on the rooftops to watch for any sign of a threat. And even if he hadn¡¯t had the Watch to guard him, Henric had the sword on his belt. Just feeling the weight of it gave him some assurance.

    Thomias led them through the city to the market square where a large white cloth covered something about nine feet tall in the center. As everyone filed into the square, surrounding the covered statue, Henric noticed there were no civilians around.

    ¡°My lords and ladies!¡± began Thomias, in his most theatrical voice. ¡°I introduce to you, Halad, the sculptor of this fine work!¡± The assembled crowd clapped graciously for the small, wooly man who stepped forward and waved to them all. There were three young men, his apprentices, standing dutifully behind Halad.

    ¡°My lord Henric, would you like the honors?¡±

    ¡°No, thank you mayor Thomias,¡± said Henric. ¡°The honors are all yours.¡±

    Gleefully, Thomias ripped the covering off the statue, and the crowd cheered as a white marble carving of Gareth Aldrimar dressed for battle was revealed. It was a good likeness, but the small plaque at Henric¡¯s father¡¯s feet did not seem to be properly set into the stone. Henric heard muffled swears coming from the sculptor, who rushed one of his apprentices, a tall, dark skinned man, up to fix the small mistake. The apprentice fidgeted with the plaque for a long moment, and Halad shooed him away from the square in shame once he was done.

    ¡°Is it not a perfect likeness my lord?¡± asked Thomias proudly, as though he himself had carved the statue. ¡°It is only fit to commemorate your father for all...¡±

    Thomias was cut off by something like a thunderclap. Before he knew what was happening, Henric was on the ground, winded. It took a moment or two for his vision to come back to him, and he saw people and rubble everywhere, smoke and dust hanging in the air. Henric felt the back of his head, which came away red and wet. He tried to get his feet beneath him, and drew his sword.

    He could see his mother laying on the cobblestones a few feet from where he had been, and he rushed to her side, shaking her. When he didn¡¯t hear his own voice, he noticed he couldn¡¯t hear anything except a high pitched ringing. He shook her again, shouted ¡°MOTHER!¡± but it hardly sounded louder than a whisper.

    Lady Kris¡¯ eyes blinked open, and let out a cry of pain. Looking her over, she didn¡¯t seem to be injured, only bruised. Helping his mother to her feet, he searched for his sisters, and for Mathev, and Megan. Adelin was easy to find, sitting on the ground, curled up in her knees crying. He found Zak helping Alix and one of her handmaids, a girl with fiery red hair called Clare back up and making sure they were alright.

    ¡°What is happening?¡± Henric shouted again. He wasn¡¯t sure if Zak had heard him, as focused as he was on helping the handmaid with her twisted ankle. ¡°Zak! What is going on?¡±

    He looked up. ¡°Hell if I know!¡±

    As the ringing in his hears faded, the world came back into focus. All around him people were crying out in confused pain. Nobody knew what was going on. He looked down at his feet and saw a chunk of his father¡¯s face staring back up at him. Picking it up, he looked to where the statue had once been, and saw only broken rubble. Not everyone had been as lucky as Henric had been.

    The charred, broken body of the stonecutter¡¯s apprentice had been thrown ten feet back from the statue with bits of marble forced into him. Others around had hit by shards of the broken stone, cutting or sticking into them. Some were worse than others, but nobody had escaped without at least a few bruises. Besides the stonecutter¡¯s boy, Count Arnult was injured worst, with a large sharp chunk of stone sticking out from his shoulder.

    Henric knew he had to do something. Taking a deep breath, he tried to ignore the subtle creeping stench of Death. He looked at the carving of his father¡¯s eye and wondered what he would do. ¡°Everyone! Please try to stay calm. The Watch will be here any moment to help the injured. If you stand and walk, help someone who can¡¯t.¡± It was as though his father was speaking through him, and people listened.

    Rua grinned when he heard the blast from more than a mile away. It had only been the night before that he had managed to finish the etchings for heat on the back side of the plate. The mixture of charcoal and loamsalt had been stashed into a cavity in the statue¡¯s base behind the plate, but bereft of brimstone to catalyze it, it was little more than dirt. And so Rua had made due with an etching that would ignite the mixture quickly, and when Halad sent him to fix the plate, he activated it at the expense of a small amount of his living breath.

    He watched as the guardsmen at the gate in Lord¡¯s Square marched out into the city after the blast, leaving behind a token garrison of four men. Those men were so focused on the commotion in the city that they didn¡¯t notice Rua slip over the wall just behind the gate, and make his way up through the castle.

    From the castle, Rua would learn first hand of the duke¡¯s grandson¡¯s demise, and if the bomb hadn¡¯t worked... He ran his finger along the knife in his cloak. He almost drew it out of reflex when he was stopped at the second gate. ¡°You there,¡± said the guard. ¡°What¡¯s going on out there?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± said Rua. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to get up to the castle and have the steward prepare for injured.¡±

    ¡°Davra,¡± swore the guard. ¡°Better get on then.¡±

    The third gate was open to him and unmanned. He just slipped right in. So they call this a castle? The Aldrimars¡¯ castle was little more than a hodge-podge network of buildings and towers centered around a central, boxy keep. It was a mess of different styles and construction techniques, nothing like the ornate monolithic fortresses of his homeland. For all the time it took him to get there, Rua was simply not impressed.

    No, Henric Aldrimar. Not impressed at all. I shall tell you as much should you still breathe.

 Chapter 10

    His carriage stopping, again, was the last straw for Olverez. He had been sitting in this sweatbox on wheels with only a few rock hard cushions to sit on. Had he wanted to feel a breeze, he would have had to remove one of the small panes of clear glass, and even then it could only have been a small relief.

    ¡°Why in God¡¯s Names have we stopped?¡± he shouted from behind the rag pressed to his face. He dapped the rag in a small amount scented oil, and huffed it again. The perfume was noxious in large amounts, but much better than the stench of his companion. A small hatch at the front of the carriage opened.

    ¡°It looks like the gates are closed, my lord,¡± said Raul, one of his drivers.

    What uncivilized place must lock their gates by day? wondered Olverez. Having seen much of their country on his journey from the capitol, he concluded the Erazi really were little more than savages pretending at civilization. Their people lacked the social graces expected in Sestil. He found it fitting that the savages who once terrorized parts of the Vale were now subject to its greatest king.

    ¡°Make them aware what cargo we carry, and quickly,¡± Olverez snapped back. He was beginning to smell the rot again. The embalmer said that wouldn¡¯t happen. I shall skin him for that lie. Olverez rummaged through his pack, and produced papers sealed and signed in the name of the King of Erazel.

    He heard muttering outside the carriage between Raul and one of the city guards. It sounded heated a moment, and one of the wooden doors to the carriage was flung open, letting in the afternoon daylight. The fair haired guard climbed into the carriage without a word and pulled down the fabric wrapped around Duke Henric Aldrimar¡¯s face. He almost gagged at the sight, and stumbled out.

    ¡°Let them through,¡± he said after he¡¯d finally gotten his stomach back under control. ¡°Send runners to the Captain, the Cathedral, and the castle. Let them know our duke has finally returned to us.¡±

    Lucan and the watch had were escorting them back to the castle through the city streets when Henric heard someone shouting behind them. ¡°Captain Lucan! Urgent news!¡±

    Henric stopped and turned, allowing others to pass by him as he walked back to where Lucan was waiting for the guard. ¡°Sir,¡± said the guard between huffs and wheezes. Then he saw Henric. ¡°My lord, the Duke has returned.¡±

    That took a moment to register with Henric. His grandfather! If the duke had returned, that meant he might free of these duties, at least for a few more years. ¡°Truly? He¡¯s back?¡± asked Henric.

    ¡°Yes, my lord,¡± said the guard. ¡°As the king promised.¡±

    If Henric had been looking at Lucan¡¯s face, he might have recognized the significance of the guard¡¯s words, but he wasn¡¯t. Instead, he asked ¡°Where is he?¡±

    ¡°On his way to the castle right now my lord.¡±

    ¡°Then what are we waiting for?¡±

    It wasn¡¯t until they had almost reached the Lords Square and the bells at the cathedral began to slowly toll that he remembered what the king¡¯s promise had been. Henric had only been five that day, when the Rebellion was ended in the Peace of Henrics.

    Henric remembered how splendid the king had looked when he marched into the great hall in his finest armor. His long golden hair hung down between his shoulders and his blue and gold cloak dragged on the ground beside him. Henric remembered watching the king drag his grandfather in, bound in chains and forced him to surrender in front of his whole court. Then the king spoke to all of them, ¡°I shall take your duke from you in chains, and only will I return him once he has breathed his last breath.¡±

    They arrived at the top of the hill behind most of the party. Count Arnult and the rest of the injured had already been rushed to Ardas¡¯ care, but the rest had gathered around a carriage as it was being unloaded and unhorsed. The stench of Death hung in the air, and Henric brushed up past them to confirm what he already knew. His grandfather was dead.

    Henric shouted at two of the knights who stood about mourning, ¡°You two! Get your duke inside!¡± He noticed three newcomers, an Azrin noble and his bodyguards. Henric went to them. ¡°I assume you are the ones who have returned my grandfather to us?¡±

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    The Azrin glanced at him, and brushed him away with a dismissive gesture. ¡°So I am boy, leave me be,¡± he said with his thick, buzzing accent.

    ¡°Boy?¡± said Henric. ¡°I will forgive you that this once, because you are a stranger in our lands and to our ways. What is your name, my lord?¡±

    The Azrin gave him a second glance, and reevaluated his situation. ¡°I am called Olverez, cousin and minister to king Gundemaro.¡±

    ¡°Ah! How good to have a cousin to the king in our home! Please, join us for the Rites at least. You have come so far with my grandfather.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Olverez shook his head. ¡°I have other matters I must attend to, I cannot stay long.¡±

    Good, thought Henric. ¡°And if I should insist?¡±

    ¡°I too would insist, my lord. We must be away.¡± And soon they were.

    As though he had been waiting in the wings, Count Phillip soon swept in. His arm was in a makeshift sling, though Henric did not remember seeing him seriously injured in the blast. ¡°Henric, it is time for us to call the council.¡±

    ¡°Now? Really?¡± Henric snapped. He was in no mood for ceremonial dickering.

    ¡°After what has just happened?¡± the count snapped back. ¡°Of course now. We have much we need to discuss.¡±

    ¡°There are more important things right now.¡± Figuring out what had happened back in the city for starters. Burying his grandfather. Whatever Phillip wanted could wait.

    ¡°There is nothing more important that the succession.¡±

    Soon the Lords Aldrimar had been assembled in the council chamber. Count Arnult¡¯s stretcher had been brought in, and he was allowed to rest comfortably while attending the proceedings, and at Henric¡¯s insistence, his uncles Zak and Samael joined them, though they were not lords themselves.

    ¡°What the hell are we all doing down here?¡± asked Markan.

    ¡°If you would learn some patience, you might actually learn why,¡± sneered Phillip. ¡°We have several urgent matters to discuss. The first being naming our duke¡¯s successor.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s simple,¡± said Zak. ¡°It¡¯s Henric.¡±

    ¡°It is not so simple as that,¡± countered Phillip. He unrolled a piece of parchment on the table before him. ¡°The duke never named the boy his successor. He names his late son Gareth as successor.¡±

    ¡°And my father named me as his heir and successor in all things,¡± said Henric. ¡°What are you playing at Phillip?¡±

    ¡°I am not playing boy. I will not suffer a child as my duke.¡±

    ¡°Really Phillip? The law says-¡± asked Markan in disbelief.

    Phillip turned on him, ¡°We are the law. If we should choose to do something different than fathers, who is to stop us. I¡¯d think you¡¯d be in agreement with me on this after what just happened down in the city, after the injuries Arnult took? How can you trust him to govern us?¡±

    ¡°How would you have prevented a blast like that?!¡± shouted Henric, slamming a fist into the table. ¡°You talk like you understand, but you don¡¯t. That was the second attempt on my life in a month. I thought I had taken precautions, but how do you prevent magic? I¡¯m almost willing to believe you had something to do with it Phillip.¡±

    ¡°You see this outburst?¡± asked the count incredulously. ¡°And to accuse me of attempted kinslaying? The boy proves himself a fool! Come now, he is no duke!¡±

    Arnult hacked and coughed from his seat. ¡°And you would have us name you heir, eh cos? I¡¯d sooner have King Wicked as my suzerain than you.¡±

    ¡°I never suggested myself,¡± deflected Phillip. ¡°I would gladly serve if you all should agree I am best fit, but I would follow you, or even young Marche over this boy.¡±

    ¡°But Henric is my father¡¯s heir,¡± asserted Zak again.

    ¡°Not truly, brother,¡± said Samael. Henric felt betrayed at his uncle¡¯s words. ¡°Gareth was not allowed to name a ducal successor, no. But he did name Henric as his successor in all things, including his inheritances. Your pretext is thin Phillip.¡±

    ¡°So how do you say we settle this?¡± asked Henric. ¡°A duel?¡±

    Markan pricked up at the suggestion, but Phillip only laughed and held up his arm, ¡°Hardly. I intend to put this matter before the court to judge.¡±

    ¡°And the court will not hear it,¡± interrupted Arnult. ¡°You think you are so clever cos, but you I will not allow you to make a spectacle of this. Our grandfather, the second Henric split his lands so that his sons could fight together, not one another. Let us put it to a vote and be done with it. We have gone too long without a duke already.¡±

    ¡°Yes, let¡¯s,¡± agreed Phillip. He turned on Zak and Samael, ¡°The duke¡¯s sons do not vote, since they hold no lands of their own.¡±

    ¡°Agreed,¡± said the other two counts before Henric had a chance to protest. A steward was called in, and each of them was provided with a quill, ink, and a scrap of paper. They each wrote a name on the paper, and they were collected by the steward.

    He read them out, one by one. ¡°Henric.¡±

    Henric looked carefully at the faces of the Lords Aldrimar, trying to read their expressions, but found nothing. At least he had one vote already.

    ¡°Phillip.¡±

    He watched a brief, smug grin flash across the count¡¯s face, but it was the second call of ¡°Phillip.¡± which cracked his stoney expression.

    He had never thought it would come to this. Sure, he had his doubts if he could even do it, but when his fate hung in the balance like that, Henric knew what he really wanted. In that moment, he decided no matter what, he wouldn¡¯t surrender his grandfather¡¯s titles to anyone.

    So when the steward called out ¡°Henric,¡± again, he let out a massive sigh or relief, unaware he had even been holding his breath. For a moment, he just enjoyed the unpleasant look on Phillip¡¯s face.

    They voted again and again, and twice more the results were the same. ¡°Enough!¡± said Henric after the third vote. ¡°The sun is setting, let us retire and take this up again in the morning.¡± That time the vote was unanimous.

 Chapter 11

    ¡°How¡¯s your arm?¡± Henric asked softly from the foot of her bed.

    The South Hall was filled with pained moans and their echoes. Megan pulled her blanket up close with her good arm. The afternoon sun was creeping higher and higher up the far wall, and it was getting colder.

    ¡°Ardas says it¡¯s broken,¡± she said. When the statue of Henric¡¯s father exploded, a small part of his chest broke off and snapped the bone in her right arm. ¡°But I feel alright.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± said Henric absently. He was looking over his shoulder at a few of the other cots. The Count of Limos lay unconscious a few beds over. His injuries had been far worse than hers had been, and a large piece of the statue had lodged itself in his chest. Ardas, the Aldrimar¡¯s old steward had already removed the biggest chunks, and was now cleaning out the smallest bits from the wound.

    She brushed her left hand against his thigh. ¡°Henric, it¡¯s not your fault.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it?¡± he said. ¡°That explosion was supposed to get me. Everyone else is collateral damage, and I¡¯m fine.¡±

    ¡°Nonsense,¡± said Megan.

    ¡°Someone¡¯s trying to kill me Megan,¡± he said. She didn¡¯t remember the last time she¡¯d seen him this scared. Or angry. The look in his green eyes said he wanted to hurt someone, or to cry. ¡°I¡¯ve been lucky so far. But every time I leave the castle someone has tried to kill me.¡±

    ¡°Nobody but a god can make a statue do that,¡± said Megan. ¡°And if that¡¯s the case, then they¡¯re definitely not trying to kill you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not necessarily true,¡± said Ardas. He poured out a large brass basin into a tub, and filled it with fresh water from another. ¡°There¡¯s old priests that know how to break stone like that.¡±

    ¡°Old priests?¡± asked Henric. ¡°You don¡¯t know how they did it, do you Ardas?¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t say I do Master Henric,¡± said the steward as he pulled a few clean rags off the rack and walked back to his patient. ¡°And leave that poor girl alone, she needs rest.¡±

    Henric was sitting quietly, staring blankly past the floor. He always looked that way when his head was in the clouds somewhere, even when they were kids.

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    ¡°Hey,¡± said Megan. ¡°What is it?¡± She knew better than to ask if ¡®everything was alright¡¯.

    ¡°Nothing,¡± said Henric. ¡°I¡¯ve just been trying to figure out how he did it. I think I need to talk with my uncle.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± said Megan.

    He stood, and turned to the bed beside Megan¡¯s where his sister lay sleeping.

    ¡°If she wakes up, let her know I was here,¡± he said.

    Megan nodded. ¡°I will.¡±

    ¡°Thanks. Get some rest.¡±

    After Henric left, she really did try to rest. It came easy, and she was soon fast asleep and far away. She was standing on the balcony again, looking out from the palace ballroom over the city of Zael. From there they could watch the ships and their nightfires move through the bay with moonlight in their sails. Antoine stood beside her, telling her some story and grinning that handsome smile that wasn¡¯t really for her.

    She heard a scream of pain echo out across the bay, and then another, until soon it seemed as though the whole city was aflame. But when she looked at Antoine he was still smiling, still laughing.

    Megan woke shortly after sundown. She looked to her right, saw that Beth had already left, and decided she was feeling well enough to be escorted home. The chamber was kept warm by the low fires lit in the hearths, but besides the bright light of both moons, it was dark and there were no servants on hand. Careful not to jostle her arm, she stood. Even through the wool socks, the stone floor was cold to the touch, and she quickly skipped her way out into the hallway.

    ¡°Hello,¡± she said. ¡°Is anyone there?¡±

    Perhaps it they were all at supper. She wondered if Mathev and Father had gone home yet, or if they had stayed in the castle the evening meal. If they¡¯d already gone, it might be better for her to find one of the extra rooms and lay down for the night. Anywhere was better than in Ardas¡¯ makeshift infirmary.

    She could hear voices from the Great Hall, and stopped by it¡¯s balcony to see if they her family might still be there. It looked like it was the servants dinner, because she couldn¡¯t see her father or any of the Aldrimars, but it seemed like half the castle¡¯s garrison was below, eating. She could feel her stomach aching at the smells of bread and pork and wine, and decided bed could wait.

    As the door to the Great Hall shut behind her, the hallway was almost creepily silent. She thought she heard something off in the distance, some noise coming from the east tower.

    ¡°Hello?¡± she called, making her way over to the tower stairs.

    There it was again. It sound like someone shouting. That sounded like Henric!

    ¡°Guards!¡±

    This time it was unmistakable. Henric was definitely in the tower, and he was definitely in trouble. Without a second thought she ran back to the balcony door and barged it open with her left shoulder. It made a loud clack against the stone work on the other side, and some of the diners were already looking around when she appeared at the banister.

    ¡°Guards!¡± she shouted. ¡°Quickly, Master Henric is calling for guards in the East Tower!¡±

 Chapter 12

    The sun had long since set by the time Henric Aldrimar finally returned to his bedchamber. Luckily the stewards had already been in to light a fire in his small stove, and Henric lit a candle from it. He sat down at his desk, resting his sheathed sword against it. He opened a drawer, and placed the Book flat on the desk. He hoped that maybe there was something in the old leather journal that could help him sway the Lords Aldrimar to his case. He would search all night if he had to.

    ¡°The eldest son shall rule the younger,¡± wrote Zakaran in a long, flowing cursive. ¡°and so protect them. The younger shall do their duty to their eldest brother as their father and their lord.¡± Which of course, was completely unhelpful for Henric. The great Zakaran Aldrimar had died with three sons, and only one a grown man, and so his succession had been clear. In fact, according to the Book, nothing like this had ever happened before, each Aldrimar succeeded by his eldest son in an unbroken line from that first Zakaran to Henric¡¯s own grandfather.

    ¡°Damn it,¡± he said to the empty room. ¡°What the hell am I going to do?¡±

    Rua had been waiting behind that wardrobe for hours in silence. He had watched servants come and go, tending to the bed, the privy, the small fireplace, but it wasn¡¯t until well after sunset that the boy himself came in. Rua had to focus to quiet his beating heart, sure it might give him away, but the boy did not seem to notice.

    He watched the young Henric cross the room and light a candle from the small fireplace before sitting down at the room¡¯s small desk, his back to the wardrobe. Excellent. He had his blade ready since that afternoon when he¡¯d first found this hiding spot, and as the boy began to read, Rua silently slipped out into the room.

    ¡°Damn it,¡± said the boy. Rua froze only step behind him, blade ready. ¡°What the hell am I supposed to do?¡±

    Behind him, the cupboard door creaked.

    Henric turned in his chair to check the source of the creak. A flash of metal was coming right at his neck, and he flinched out of the way, taking the blade in his shoulder. He let out a cry of pain and dove to the floor, reaching for his sword.

    ¡°Don¡¯t try to fight me boy,¡± said the assassin. His accent was thick, and Henric had a hard time placing it, but it certainly wasn¡¯t Erazi. ¡°You¡¯ve been lucky twice so far, but no more. This time you die!¡±

    The assassin chased after him with slow, deliberate, almost silent steps. Henric was crawling as fast as he could while trying to fumble his sword out of it¡¯s sheath. His heart was racing, and he could feel a mixture of panic and rage, and Death.

    Suddenly the assassin had a grip on his foot, and yanked him back to the center of the room with a single mighty tug. He made to stab Henric in his exposed belly, but the boy whipped himself with all his weight and kicked the assassin in the ribs, allowing the boy to escape. In an instant he was on his feet and bolting out the door.

    ¡°Help!¡± Henric shouted. ¡°Guards! There¡¯s an intruder in the east tower! I need guards!¡± He looked left and then right. The stairs to his left led up to the top of the tower, to the Duke¡¯s chambers and the rooftop above that, to his right they led down into the main part of the castle, where the guests would be. It wasn¡¯t until he heard someone shouting ¡®Henric!'' up the stairs from below that he knew which way to run.

    As he ran up the stairs, Henric was finally able to undo the clasps that kept his blade in its sheath. He could hear the assassin only a few steps behind him. If he could just stay ahead of the assassin, if he could just get to the roof, there¡¯d be plenty of room to fight with his sword, and the assassin would have nowhere to go when the guards finally caught up. He forced himself to run faster, as fast as he could, until he pushed open the hatch and emerged into the cool night air and the brightness of both moons.

    The boy had run to the top of the tower, and finally pulled that sword of his free, taking up a defensive stance. Rua laughed. ¡°You think that will save you?¡± he asked as he circled the boy, his dagger at the ready. He had forgotten how much fun it was to corner prey.

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    "Stay back," the boy threatened. He was smart enough at least to keep the point of his sword trained on Rua. That wouldn''t save him, once he swung, Rua could slip in. There would be a gap, and that''s all he would need.

    They had circled each other twice, both tense, ready to swing at the other. I can¡¯t let my guard down, Henric thought. He watched the assassin¡¯s footwork, light and effortless. Henric was certain that even with that small blade he had, the assassin would only need an instant to end his life. If he had his shield, if he wasn¡¯t dressed in his eveningwear but his armor instead, he might have had a chance. What would Zak do?

    A hard wind blew from the northwest, chilling him to the bone. Cold as Death. He felt himself shiver, and in an instant the assassin was on him. He brought his sword up to counter the blade, and felt them connect, and ducked into the assassin¡¯s blow. He let his blade slip and the assassin¡¯s slid right off into the air where he had just been. Henric left an upward slash along his ribcage as retreated behind the assassin.

    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± he shouted at the man. ¡°Why are you trying to kill me?¡±

    ¡°You wish I would give you my name so you can offer it to the Keeper of the Damned? I am no fool Henric Aldrimar.¡± With each word, the assassin closed in. ¡°No, you will die without my name, never knowing which Fate chose you for so early a grave.¡±

    Henric swung. The assassin stopped it with his blade, and then grabbed the blade with his leathered hand. With a single motion he ripped it from Henric¡¯s grip and sent it scattering across the stones behind them. Henric stepped backwards, stumbling when the back of his foot met one of the small riser steps. The hard stones hurt when he landed on their sharp edges, but he kept backing away from the assassin, blade in hand. Henric felt his back come up against the low crenelated wall that marked the edge of the tower and stopped. There was nowhere else to run.

    ¡°No more!¡± growled the assassin. He stomped his foot down hard into his belly, winding him and sticking him in place. ¡°Enjoy your last breath!¡± Henric closed his eyes as the assassin started swinging for his chest. He heard a thrum, and another thrum, and felt the splash of warm blood on his face.

    He opened his eyes, to see two bloody quarrels protruding from the assassin¡¯s chest. The easterner had a look of stunned surprise on his face, but Henric wasted no time. He kicked as hard as he could between the man¡¯s legs and he stumbled twice, lost his balance, and slipped right over the edge of the wall. Henric turned to watch the assassin fall almost three hundred feet into the river below.

    ¡°My lord,¡± said one of the guards. ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    Henric brushed him away. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. Is everyone else alright?¡±

    ¡°They are my lord,¡± said the other.

    ¡°Good,¡± said Henric. ¡°I owe you two my life. Thank you. You¡¯ll both have knighthoods for this.¡± They turned to each other, beaming.

    He turned back to watch the river, and saw only the inky blackness. He sighed, and with it let out some of his tension. For the first time in weeks, he felt a little safer, and it was a comforting thought.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Lucan?¡± he shouted at the few guards who were just standing awestruck by the stairs. ¡°Go find him, and have him meet me in the study. The rest of you, come with me. It¡¯s cold out here, someone get me a cloak.¡±

    It felt good to get the cold wind off his bare legs, but their stiffness made the stairs difficult. He took a rest at one of the benches outside the duke¡¯s chambers, wincing as his shoulder made light contact with the wall.

    ¡°Henric,¡± said a small voice. He looked over to see Adelin, his little sister on the steps with Megan just behind.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± asked Adelin. ¡°Megan heard yelling, is everything alr...¡± Her eyes went wide when she saw the blood soaking his shirt from his shoulder and rushed over to him in tears.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, Addy,¡± said Henric as she hugged him. ¡°No reason to worry.¡±

    ¡°How can you say that?¡± she scolded through tears. ¡°We almost died today! And you¡¯re bleeding now!¡±

    ¡°You should see what I did to the guy who did this to me.¡±

    This water was the coldest thing Rua had ever felt. Colder than the peaks of the Gharas where he had spent the earliest days of his training. So this is dying. He thought about all those he had sent this way before him, and if he could have let out a cry with his waterlogged, punctured lungs he would have. He would die a failure, there would be no glory for him in death. Instead he would be forced to spend eternity at the mercy of all those whose lives he took, the ultimate punishment for those who fail in their service.

    As he floated there, face down and drowning, somewhere between Life and Death he noticed the moonlight had disappeared, leaving only blackness behind him. He thought he saw something moving in the water. He felt it grab hold of him, wrap itself around him. He felt it force open his mouth and snake its way down his throat. There was so much pain as it began to eat him alive from the inside. He tried to scream, but couldn¡¯t.

    In his last moment of consciousness, as the thing began to wrap itself around his head devouring his thoughts, he heard it speak. ¡°It shall serve,¡± it hissed.

    And Rua agreed, his final thought as the thing consumed the last of him was ¡°Yes, I shall serve.¡±

 Chapter 13

    The fifteen Azrin golds clinked against each other as Henric upended the pouch on the desk. King¡¯s gold, he thought. ¡°I want you to find the body¡± he said. ¡°Even if you have to damn the river.¡±

    The captain nodded. ¡°Yes, my lord.¡±

    ¡°I mean it,¡± said Henric. ¡°Without that body I have no proof anyone even came after me.¡±

    ¡°I understand, my lord,¡± said Lucan. ¡°We will begin tonight.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Lucan,¡± he was calculating how large of a bonus to give the captain. Maybe I¡¯ll let him have all of these. ¡°Have your men call the Lords Aldrimar to council at once, my uncles too. You may go.¡±

    ¡°Should I have a steward sent up?¡± the captain asked, shrugging towards the unlit fireplace. The richly furnished office¡¯s only light came from the small candle on Henric¡¯s desk.

    ¡°Don¡¯t bother,¡± said Henric. ¡°I¡¯ve got it..¡±

    As he brushed the coins off the desk back into their pouch, he kicked up a light cloud of dust and coughed. With the candle in hand, Henric went over to the fireplace and found old, brittle, dust covered logs. Fair enough, he thought. Nobody¡¯s been up here in two years. That changed now though. Luckily the wood was dry and sparked quickly, bathing the whole room in orange.

    Located on the very top floor of the main part of the house, just above the library at the southeast end. It shared the large window wall that stretched the five stories from the council chambers all the way to where the lattice of metal and glass seemed to fuse into the stone. His father had told him once that the glasswork had cost the second Henric almost three years of incomes. Both moons shone brightly that night casting the countryside in pale light, and Henric found himself staring out into its comforting peace.

    I wonder if a swimmer would be able to pull the body out of the river? he thought. Without the assassin¡¯s corpse, he still couldn¡¯t answer the big question, he couldn¡¯t know who wanted him dead. He tried thinking of the consequences to see if he couldn¡¯t puzzle out a few suspects. If he had died, there likely would have been infighting among the Aldrimars over succession, though he hadn¡¯t needed to die for that to happen.

    Count Phillip certainly fits the motivation, thought Henric. But he wouldn¡¯t have put himself in harms way by attending this morning if he¡¯d known. Then who else? And how did they even pull the blast off?

    House Aldrimar certainly had earned the ire of a few of the other noble houses in the past, and though tensions had fallen since the end of the Rebellions nine years ago, that certainly didn¡¯t mean the other dukes were above suspicion. But Henric found himself looking at the coin purse in his hand. Sestilan Crowns, he thought, and couldn¡¯t help but wonder what part the king had in all this.

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    It was still well before dawn as the Lords Aldrimar sleepily assembled in the council chamber.

    ¡°What is the meaning of this?¡± asked Count Phillip when he entered to find the large council table removed and only a single seat on the stage.

    ¡°The meaning of this Phillip?¡± said Henric. ¡°Is that I am done playing games. There will be no more votes, no more discussion. At noon today, we will perform the Rites and I will be confirmed as duke.¡±

    ¡°How absurd!¡± started Phillip. ¡°I will not simply...¡±

    Henric cut him off. ¡°Yes, you will. Simply.¡± He pulled back his robe to reveal the bandages on his left shoulder. ¡°There was an intruder in my castle tonight. Waiting for me in my own room, and almost killed me.¡± He motioned to the two guardsmen behind him. ¡°If not for these two you all would be burying two Henric Aldrimars tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°And you think I had something to do with it?¡± asked Phillip.

    Oh, not at all, thought Henric. ¡°You¡¯ve given me every reason to. It was you after all that challenged my succession.¡± Henric enjoyed watching the count¡¯s face pale. ¡°None of my other guests arrived with as many followers. Perhaps you snuck him in with the rest, confident nobody would suspect you.¡±

    ¡°I did no such thing!¡± Phillip cried. Henric could see the seeds of doubt taking root in the counts of Marche and Limos. He had them.

    Henric turned his face away in an attempt to hide a grin. Guards stood ready to arrest the count at Henric¡¯s order. ¡°I would be inclined to believe you cousin if there were not this rift between us. As it stands, I have no reason to suspect anyone else.¡±

    Uxerre caught his meaning and sighed, defeated. ¡°Fine. I withdraw my claim.¡±

    At high noon that day, the city had gathered at the Cathedral of Theori to celebrate the final Rites of their duke, Henric Aldrimar the Third. The duke¡¯s grandson stood next to his grandfather¡¯s casket awaiting Father Ulan¡¯s signal. Over his funeral blacks, Henric wore a black surcoat with a single vertical band of crimson baring in the white roaring lion on his breast. His mother had warned him against the splash of red, worried it might offend the crowd. Henric didn¡¯t care, he was sick of mourning.

    The priest began the ceremony, and hundreds of faces watched as Henric pushed his grandfather¡¯s casket down the aisle and to the pulpit where it was opened and displayed to the crowd. Duke Henric¡¯s mutilated face had been bandaged and reshaped by the embalmer, but it was still an unsettling sight and stunk so bad even the others were scrunching up their noses.

    As Ulan produced and blessed the seven oils, Henric stood stared at his grandfather, wondering what had happened to his head. One by one, the old duke was anointed as the priest chanted. When the sixth oil was done, the priest motioned for the congregation to rise.

    Holding the seventh oil high so all could see, the priest began ¡°As we say goodbye to our Duke Henric Aldrimar, we ask the Lords Above to bless his grandson with all his wisdom and benevolence.¡±

    ¡°Amen,¡± said the crowd.

    And with a tilt of the priest¡¯s hand, the oil poured out and burst into an intense violet flame on his grandfather¡¯s forehead. Henric concentrated on the flame, and he and Father Ulan began to speak the ancient words in unison. The violet flame became violent and wild, thrashing everywhere which almost made Henric take a step back. He felt a drop of the oil on his forehead followed by an intense burning as the flame leapt from his grandfather to him and enveloped his head.

    ¡°Agh!¡± Henric cried out fell to one knee. The whole congregation took a breath, and sighed collectively when the Duke of Zaksburg stood again after only a moment, flames subsiding.

    Henric sat silently as the priest began another of his long sermons on the nature of death. Though the flames had subsided, he still felt an intense throbbing pain his skull. As the priest went on, Henric¡¯s eyes grew heavier and heavier, and the young duke fell asleep on his pew.

 Chapter 14

    ¡°What the?¡± Henric woke in a strange room, and panicked. It was midmorning, the sun already high in a deep blue sky, and he had been sitting with his head down on a table. He recognized the pattern in the stonework, but the furniture was strange, and he didn¡¯t ever remember there being a set of double doors on the outer wall of his bedroom.

    He felt the cool, slick of ink drip down his arm as he lifted his head. Used quills and parchments were scattered around the table, and ink made a small puddle where his hand must have knocked the bottle while he slept. There was a book on the table opened somewhere past the halfway point. The pages were old and yellowed but the words were fresh, only a few hours old. The writing was neat, legible, and not his.

    ¡°It cost me so much to get there,¡± it began. ¡°But no cost would be too great to confirm grandfather¡¯s suspicions. The Lost One lies below the capitol, and our fears were rightly placed. Draciat has indeed woken.¡±

    When Henric read the word ¡®Draciat¡¯, he felt a stab of pain between his eyes and for a moment saw only blackness. In that blackness he heard a deep, malevolent laughter that chilled him to the bone and knocked him from his chair.

    ¡°What the?¡± He backed away from the table, stopping when he felt the bed at his back. He left a black handprint on the wood bedframe as he stood. ¡°Ugh, I need to wash this off me.¡±

    It took him a moment to find the private washroom unique to the duke¡¯s quarters. It was equipped with a pump fed from the river far below by a clever system of lead pipes, which provided fresh water for drinking and washing at the duke¡¯s convenience. It also had a drainpipe for excess water and waste. After a few minutes, he had drawn up enough water that he could wash off his arm.

    ¡°Lord Henric,¡± came a knock at the door. ¡°Are you awake? I¡¯m coming in to tend you.¡±

    ¡°There will be no need Ardas,¡± Henric shouted as he scrubbed at his wrist with a wet rag. ¡°I¡¯m just fine. Although I did seem to make a mess of the table.¡±

    ¡°Oh, my lord,¡± the short grey-haired man poked his head into the washroom. ¡°You¡¯re up! I¡¯ll have someone up right away with fresh towels and something for you to eat.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Before Henric could finish thanking him, the chief steward was already gone. Henric though he heard the little man shouting at one of his underlings, who were probably running like frightened rabbits at his command.

    But just as quickly Ardas was back. ¡°Let me take a look at your arm, my lord. I need to change your bandage.¡± Henric winced as the stewards pulled back the cloth. ¡°It¡¯s healing well.¡±

    With expert skill, Ardas began wiping away blood from the wound with a rag and a alcohol dilution. ¡°Ah,¡± Henric winced, but it hurt far less than when the steward had done this the day before. ¡°So tell me Ardas, how did you come to know so much about stitching wounds?¡±

    ¡°The same way any man learns, my lord. Practice.¡±

    ¡°But surely someone taught you the right way to do it?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± said the small man matter of factly. ¡°I did spend a few years at the Unarium. I thought you knew that.¡±

    Henric blushed. He probably did know that, but Ardas had been with the family since before Henric was born, and told him many things. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t. I always thought you were a doctor though.¡±

    ¡°You have to be ordained to be a ¡®doctor¡¯,¡± he said. ¡°But I left too early for that. Then I saved your grandfather¡¯s life, and been here ever since.¡±

    Someone struggled with the door from the stairs, and Ardas stood to help him. ¡°Start wrapping yourself up like I showed you yesterday.¡± Henric nodded. Once he had the rhythm of it, he joined the stewards in the main room.

    ¡°No,¡± said Ardas. ¡°Place the tray on the bed and clean up the table.¡±

    The poor girl was frazzled, holding a rag dripping with ink in one hand and a tray full of bread, cheeses and meats, his breakfast. Henric grabbed the rag from her, and began mopping up the table. ¡°I¡¯ll draw you more water, my lord,¡± she said as she sat the tray down.

    ¡°Helpless girl,¡± the head steward muttered when she had slipped into the washroom to draw up more water.

    ¡°Now Ardas,¡± said Henric. ¡°She¡¯s new, give her a break.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s not new my lord, she has served in the kitchen for a year...¡± Most of the ink had been mopped up, and Henric reached for another rag. ¡°...and she¡¯ll soon be back where she started.¡± Henric didn¡¯t fail to notice how Ardas didn¡¯t even try to help.

    ¡°It¡¯s all ready for you,¡± said the mousy girl as she slipped back into the room. As he handed her the inky rags, he noticed her blue eyes and hair that looked like straw. She might have been his age, maybe a little older. It was hard to tell with girls.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± he said as she took the rags and left with them. Henric sat on the bed beside the tray and began picking at it. ¡°If you wouldn¡¯t mind Ardas, I¡¯d like the room to myself.¡±

    ¡°At once my lord.¡±

    As the steward shut the door behind him, Henric began to piece together what had happened. Someone must have carried me all the way up the hill. Taking the tray with him, he moved back to the table, grabbing a quill and parchment. Pulling the open book closer, he realized it was the Zakaran¡¯s old leather bound journal. What have I done?

    And how? He tried scribbling a few letters out on the parchment. As best as he could, Henric couldn¡¯t quite replicate the new handwriting in the Book. ¡°Damn it,¡± he slammed the book shut. Even just looking at the words made his head ache. He needed air, and threw open the double doors the tower¡¯s balcony.

    ¡°I need to talk to Sam and Zak.¡±

    Below, he could see crowds of people heading towards the canal gardens, a public park along the canal connecting the two rivers. The coronation festival had already begun! He must have slept a whole day away, but he was glad for it. In spite of what must have been a night spent at a desk, Henric felt incredibly well rested, perfect for a day at the festival.

    Opening the wardrobe he discovered that most of his clothes had been brought up from his old room lower in the tower. Grabbing the first shirt and and pants combination that wasn¡¯t horribly egregious, he quickly dressed himself and began the long climb down the tower. If his guess was right he had spent the past twenty two hours asleep. The last time he¡¯d spent even half that much time sleeping was when he was sick with pneumonia when he was little, and his mother had been worried then.

    He found lady Kris in one of the parlors of the south wing, chatting with her mother-in-law. The two widows were each lounged out on long sofas with two cups, a pitcher of wine, and a half played game of cards on the table between them.

    ¡°Mother,¡± said Henric. They looked up. ¡°Grandmother. How are you ladies doing today?¡±

    ¡°Henri!¡± said lady Kris, setting her cup down on the table. ¡°You awake!¡±

    ¡°No, no, don¡¯t get up mother,¡± he said. He bent down and met her sitting hug.

    ¡°We were worried about you,¡± said Ekloda.

    ¡°Not I,¡± said Kris.

    ¡°You weren¡¯t?¡± Henric was surprised.

    ¡°No. I have seen for myself, if anything is going to kill you, it will not be sleep.¡±

    It took Henric a moment to process that through her slurred accent. The shock and confusion on his face must have been amusing because his mother burst out laughing in her rambunctious guffaw, which made Ekloda laugh just as hard. It was clear that was not their first pitcher of wine that day.

    He shook his head, and laughed a bit with them. ¡°Where is everyone?¡±

    ¡°We were just talking about that!¡± said his mother, her hand lightly touching her mother-in-law¡¯s elbow.

    ¡°About what?¡± Ekloda asked.

    ¡°Did you want to go to the festival or not?¡± asked Kris. ¡°Now we have an escort, so it will not be unseemly.¡±

    ¡°So everyone else is down at the festival I take it?¡± asked Henric.

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    ¡°You see, all of our children are already there, let¡¯s go,¡± said Kris.

    ¡°Fine, you win,¡± Ekloda conceded. She eyed Henric up and down a moment. ¡°He need¡¯s to change first. Something nice. Then we¡¯ll go.¡± Henric rolled his eyes and shrugged. It was a fair enough complaint.

    Almost two hours later they finally crossed under the two great oaks into the canal gardens. All around, people milled about from food carts to tapped kegs and games. There was a cacophony of constant murmuring crowds undercut by musicians and performers that began when another ended. He was glad to see that the whole city had dressed their best, even though this whole thing was nominally for him.

    He left the widows with the guards, taking only a single bodyguard for himself, and made his way through the crowds searching for his uncles. The canal gardens were large, a mile on both sides of the canal between the rivers, filled with wide manicured lawns under ancient oaks, and not usually so hard to navigate. There was more comfort in his sword than in the guard behind him when it came to the crowd. Along the canal were fewer people, and thats the way Henric went.

    It was only pure luck that he recognized the thin, lanky frame and black mop of his friend Mathev ahead of him, relieving himself in the canal.

    ¡°Oi Mathev!¡± He startled the other boy, shaking him and sprinkling urine on the cobbled walkway.

    ¡°Shi... Henric!¡± said Mathev, hiding himself back over the stream. ¡°Your dukeness surprised me. I¡¯m glad you¡¯re up. I was beginning to think I¡¯d need to find some princess to wake you.¡± He finished and tucked himself away.

    ¡°I¡¯d love to hear that story,¡± laughed Henric. ¡°I¡¯m glad I found you, I¡¯ve been look everywhere for you all.¡±

    ¡°Well you found me,¡± said Mathev. ¡°Just me. I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re looking over here, everyone else is over at the Ring.¡±

    ¡°They set up the Ring?¡± asked Henric. Of course they did, and there was nowhere else he¡¯d find his uncle Zak than presiding over the tournament grounds. If he wasn¡¯t fighting. ¡°Then why are you here?¡±

    ¡°Kerra was singing,¡± he said, as if Henric had just caught him exposed. And it was all the explanation his friend needed. They¡¯d both seen Kerra perform for the first time together a few years ago, and Mathev had been smitten ever since. And nobody could blame him, both her voice and her face were beautiful. ¡°But she just finished and I was on my way back over. Zak should be fighting soon.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± said Henric. ¡°Walk with me.¡± He made a point to step over the wet stones. ¡°Did she sing Rhunello¡¯s Bride?¡±

    ¡°Magnificently,¡± said Mathev. ¡°But it¡¯s a shame you missed her. She has this new song she played... Well you¡¯re duke now, you can hire her to play and hear for yourself.¡±

    ¡°That good huh? Fat chance. You remember when we tried that three years ago, she wouldn¡¯t even meet with father.¡±

    ¡°Then you really shouldn¡¯t have missed her,¡± Mathev shook his head.

    ¡°Did you see any of the fights yet?¡± asked Henric. ¡°I can¡¯t imagine anyone good¡¯s had time to get here.¡±

    ¡°The turnout is better than all that. They¡¯ve had two days to get here after all. There¡¯s Varnen, Roban, DuErden¡¯s shown up. Your uncle was pretty excited about the pool when I left.¡±

    They had to push their way through the crowd on the bridge, and all the way into the area hastily constructed of haybales and wood planks. He saw people standing on each other¡¯s shoulders to see, the constructed risers already filled.

    ¡°There they are!¡± said Mathev. ¡°In the box.¡±

    Across the field a large section of risers had been boxed off for the nobility, and their sisters had taken up a sizeable corner of the box. The two of them hurried around the field. Henric¡¯s guard waited for them at the stairs to the box.

    ¡°You can come up,¡± Henric said to the guard. He wanted to say the man¡¯s name was Karis, but he wasn¡¯t sure. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want you to miss the fight.

    ¡°I can see from here,¡± said the guard.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± Mathev tugged at his arm, pulling him up the fresh cut wooden steps.

    ¡°Henric!¡± shouted Megan when she saw him. Those that heard turned and bowed, and those that didn¡¯t followed suit out of habit. She blushed, one of the last to bow along with Henric¡¯s three sisters.

    ¡°Thank you, everyone,¡± said Henric, waving politely. Most of them turned back to their conversations, but he noticed some getting up and making their way over. He sat in the second row down beside Megan. Alix, her handmaiden Clare, and a suitor took up most of the highest row, Beth, Adelin and Megan banished to the row below. Henric didn¡¯t pay much mind to his sister¡¯s suitor, there was always one or two around, and she drove them off soon enough in the course of Alix being Alix.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Megan said.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± he said.

    ¡°Yeah, there¡¯s a first time for everything,¡± said Mathev. ¡°And here comes the first sycophant.¡±

    The girls giggled, but Henric groaned quietly. Making his way up the steps was a middle aged, thickset man in a green and orange patterned robe. ¡°Your grace,¡± the man started.

    ¡°Good sir,¡± Henric tipped his head forward. ¡°I¡¯m afraid you have me at the disadvantage.¡±

    ¡°Do forgive me,¡± the man bowed again. ¡°I am Karnas, your humble servant among the Smiths.¡± Ah, a member of the Smith¡¯s guild. Smiths made the armor and weapons for his soldiers, and that had made many of them rich, but some of the highest ranking members occasionally minted coins as well. Judging by his arms, which lacked the usual tension of a blacksmiths, Karnas was probably a minter.

    ¡°It a pleasure Karnas,¡± said Henric, he had learned this part well from years of watching his father. Now that he was closer, Henric was sure he¡¯d met this man before. Or probably had. ¡°Are you enjoying the festivities?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s certainly a wonderful day for it,¡± the smith said.

    Henric nodded and grinned almost reflexively. ¡°Certainly is.¡±

    ¡°I just wanted to introduce myself my lord.¡± A trumpeter stepped out into the field and inhaled. ¡°My business occasionally brings me to the castle, and I hoped to make your acquaintance less formally.¡±

    Hernic waited until the trumpeter stopped before he said, ¡°There¡¯s no need to explain yourself, Karnas. It truly is good to meet you, but it seems the match is starting.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes,¡± he said sheepishly, as if the trumpet had not been a good enough indication. ¡°I should get back to my wife.¡±

    ¡°You handled that well,¡± Megan said quietly, once the smith was a few steps down. ¡°Maybe you¡¯re not going to be so bad at this after all.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Mathev.

    ¡°Wait, what?¡± asked Henric. Two fully armored men entered the ring on opposite sides, one to Henric¡¯s left and one to his right.

    ¡°To the first thing, not the second,¡± said Mathev. ¡°She slipped that one in on me.¡±

    ¡°So how was your girlfriend,¡± asked Beth.

    Mathev turned red. ¡°She¡¯s not my girlfriend. She¡¯s a beautiful singer. You¡¯d know that if you¡¯d come with like I¡¯d asked.¡±

    ¡°But then we would have missed the fights,¡± Beth said. Henric¡¯s sister surprised him, he would have thought she preferred songs to sword fights. He noticed a glance between them, and thought maybe he should have the twins switch seats. But then, he didn¡¯t really want to sit next to that.

    ¡°Quiet,¡± said Henric. ¡°They¡¯re starting.¡±

    Both men stood across from each other, swords in hand. The herald called out, ¡°Sir Nolan of Marn!¡±

    Sir Nolan raised his sword and yellow shield in the air and the crowd gave a sportsmanly cheer. ¡°And his opponent, Sir Zakaran Aldrimar!¡± The crowd roared when Zak raised his red shield in the air and the herald ran out of the ring. Both men crossed their swords, the trumpet blared.

    They circled each other at swords length, waiting for the other to make the first move. It was Zak. He faked left, went right and brought his sword down hard on Nolan¡¯s back.

    He grunted and took a few staggered steps before he swung savagely at the air behind him. Thanks to Zak¡¯s training in the yard, Henric could see how sloppy Nolan¡¯s footwork was, and knew the battle would be over faster than his bouts with Jaren. Roaring applause accompanied Zak¡¯s shield blow that knocked Nolan to the ground. It was over as soon as Zak had him pinned.

    ¡°I yield!¡± cried Nolan.

    The crowd cheered, but some of the loudest seemed to be coming from the row behind him. Zak sheathed his sword and offered his hand to his opponent, helping him off the ground. Both men removed their helmets, and made their way off the field. The herald stepped back into the middle of the Ring, and called out, ¡°The next round will begin in five minutes. DuErden against Varnen the Gor.¡±

    A few minutes later, when Zak appeared at the top of the stairs he slipped as quietly as he could into the seat behind Henric, next to Clare. ¡°Oh, Henric,¡± said Zak. ¡°Good, you¡¯re up. I was going to start worrying soon.

    ¡°Soon?¡± Was nobody worried about him passing out for almost an entire day? ¡°You looked good out there.¡±

    ¡°Nolan was drunk,¡± Zak waved the compliment off. Henric noticed the way the red haired girl¡¯s pinky finger was braiding itself around his uncle¡¯s. ¡°He¡¯s usually not as sloppy... You could have beat him.¡±

    ¡°I was thinking that too,¡± said Henric.

    ¡°Now that I¡¯d like to see,¡± said Beth. ¡°Henric fighting in the Ring.¡±

    ¡°Me too,¡± said Megan and Adelin both.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Alix. ¡°It would be pretty funny to see him beat up.¡± Henric shot daggers at his big sister.

    ¡°Maybe in a few years,¡± said Zak. ¡°None of us want to beat up on a fourteen year old boy.¡±

    Henric¡¯s glare shifted to Zak. ¡°Thanks. Actually, I need to talk to you. And Sam, but I haven¡¯t seen him. Do you mind walking with me?¡±

    ¡°But the next match is just about to start,¡± said Mathev.

    ¡°I don¡¯t plan on missing it. We should be back in a minute or two.¡±

    ¡°Works for me,¡± said Zak.

    When the trumpet blared, the Duke of Zaksburg and his uncle had found a place almost devoid of people where the view of the Ring wasn¡¯t as good.

    ¡°What was it you wanted to talk about?¡± asked Zak.

    ¡°I wrote something in the Book while I was sleeping,¡± said Henric.

    ¡°You what?¡±

    ¡°That was my reaction too.¡±

    ¡°Well what did it say?¡±

    ¡°Something is waking.¡±

    ¡°What is?¡±

    ¡°Zak, I don¡¯t know. I was asleep when I wrote it and it wasn¡¯t my handwriting.¡±

    ¡°Hmm...¡± Zak thought for a moment. ¡°You¡¯re right, we need Sam.¡±

 Chapter 15

    A nervous girl slipped into the empty alleyway, black cloak wraped tightly and hood thrown up to hide her hair and shade her face. With half the city at the festival, Zaksburg¡¯s streets were without their crowds. Absent her usual cover, Kerra felt as though she¡¯d been followed ever since crossing into Northriver. She glanced over her shoulder and held her breath, but the only thing that moved was her and the only sound was windy silence.

    Kerra shivered. It was too quiet to be a city. She kept down the narrow alleyway, right hand traced lightly along the wall feeling for the crack in the grey pouredstone that marked the Den¡¯s hidden door. She found it, placed her shoulder against the wall, and pushed the door-wide cracked section in, but it refused to give.

    That¡¯s unusual.

    It sounded like furniture moving inside, and a man grumbling. Then the stonework sunk inwards and slid to the side. Sal¡¯s boarish frame loomed in the new doorway. The big man looked cross until he realized it was Kerra standing in front of him.

    She didn¡¯t wait for an invitation, and brushed past Sal. ¡°Good to see you again.¡±

    Sal heaved the loose stonework back into place, shutting out most of the evening sun, save what made it in through the dirty little pane of glass in the corner.

    ¡°It¡¯s quiet,¡± said Kerra. ¡°Where is everyone?¡±

    ¡°Gone,¡± said Sal. He bent, and lit a candle from the small corner stove and set it on the table. ¡°Didn¡¯t expect to be seeing you again neither.¡±

    In the candlelight, she could finally see the little storeroom clearly, and was shocked to see the cellar hatch blatantly uncovered.

    ¡°What happened?¡± asked Kerra.

    Sal sighed and sat himself at the table in the room¡¯s single chair. ¡°I¡¯m not so sure of that myself. Allen died and everyone started fighting.¡±

    ¡°Allen¡¯s dead? How?¡±

    Allen liked to call himself a merchant, but in truth he was a low class thug with a few good connections. His ¡®business¡¯ was buying stolen goods and selling them to an Azrini outlaw called the Crow, who in turn sold them to princes and collectors in the east.

    ¡°The Watch did him in,¡± said Sal. ¡°Bastard managed to take two of them with him though.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound like Allen.¡±

    ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t. But that¡¯s what happened.¡±

    Allen had been dangerous enough with a blade, but he wasn¡¯t one to fight with Watchmen. He wasn¡¯t that brave.

    ¡°Damn it,¡± Kerra said, thinking about the ornate dagger hidden in the pockets of her cloak. The Crow had asked for it specifically, and he was not someone she was willing to upset again. ¡°Now what am I supposed to do?¡±

    ¡°Guess you weren¡¯t looking for work then,¡± said Sal. ¡°Well I can¡¯t help ya little lady. Some of the others maybe can, but I don¡¯t want nothin¡¯ to do with them no more and they don¡¯t want nothin¡¯ from me.¡±

    The big man was avoiding her gaze, instead staring off into a dark corner. ¡°What are you still doing here Sal? There¡¯s nothing downstairs is there?¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°Bastards took everything, so this place is all I got left. It¡¯s a good enough place to lay low now that everyone who knows about it knows nothing¡¯s left.¡±

    ¡°Then why¡¯d you open the door?¡± Kerra asked.

    Sal sat there, silently. He¡¯d been keeping peace at the Den for years while Allen smuggled any damn thing out of the city¡¯s waterways which ran right below the basement. He¡¯d always been friendly with her every time she¡¯d come by, and even come to hear her sing once or twice. Without Allen, it seemed Sal really didn¡¯t have anything.

    ¡°You should go,¡± Sal said.

    Kerra nodded. ¡°I will.¡±

    With a huff, the big man picked himself off the creaky wooden chair and made for the door.

    ¡°How long are you staying?¡± he asked. ¡°In the city I mean.¡±

    A small smile found its way to Kerra¡¯s lips.

    ¡°A few days,¡± she said.

    ¡°Good,¡± Sal grinned. ¡°I wanted to hear ya sing again, and I was afraid I¡¯d missed my chance.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m at the Maned Mare, Sal,¡± said Kerra. ¡°Come by sometime, I¡¯ll sing for you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like that.¡± Sal pulled the door back, and slid it open.

    Kerra nodded to him as she stepped out into the quickly darkening spring night. ¡°Why don¡¯t you come with me? I¡¯m heading there now?¡±

    Sal shook his head. ¡°Not now. I have to wait here. But I will, before you go.¡±

    Without another word, he slid the door shut and pushed it back into place, and crow¡¯s call echoed through the quiet cobbled streets.

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    The sun had already set, the Little Sister chased behind painting the western sky a bright indigo. The little moon always chased close to the sun after she¡¯d been caught by the other moon, Big Sister, just now rising in the east. It was late enough Niles was likely back at the Mare. He might know what to do.

    Northriver¡¯s streets were still far too empty for her tastes. Kerra took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. The less conspicuous she looked, the less she¡¯d have to worry about. Right?

    Her footsteps against the cobble rang in her ears, but something wasn¡¯t right. There were extra steps she wasn¡¯t taking. Kerra stopped and spun, looking for someone else on the street but found it empty. Across from her was another alleyway, and she darted for it, hoping anyone following behind her would chase.

    Kerra¡¯s heart pumped in her chest as she turned a left corner, heading deeper into the block of homes and shops. She held back to catch a glimpse of her pursuer, and fought the urge to run when she saw a kid come chasing after her.

    The boy couldn¡¯t have been older than ten, and his dirty brown hair was slicked back and away from his face. He wore an old, too large shirt, trousers that looked like they¡¯d been made from a burlap sack, and was lucky enough to have a pair of worn shoes. And he was running right at her.

    She pressed her back to the wall and waited for the kid to turn the corner.

    He let out a surprised gasp when he turned the corner and Kerra slammed him against the wall by his shirt.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Demmon,¡± the boy said. ¡°Please don¡¯t hurt me.¡±

    Kerra looked the boy square in his bright brown eyes. ¡°Why were you following me?¡±

    ¡°I follow everyone,¡± Demmon said. ¡°It¡¯s my job.¡±

    ¡°Your job? For who?¡±

    ¡°Milyen.¡±

    ¡°Who?¡± Kerra didn¡¯t recognize the name, but a lot could change in a year away from somewhere.

    ¡°Milyen,¡± the boy said incredulous. ¡°He¡¯s in charge of this area now and wants ta know everything going on, so he pays me an¡¯ some of the other kids ta follow people.¡±

    ¡°Well don¡¯t follow me.¡±

    Kerra dropped the boy and he landed nimbly on his feet. Demmon met her stern gaze, nodded, and made to run off the way he¡¯d come.

    ¡°Wait,¡± Kerra called after him. ¡°If your Milyen took up Allen¡¯s turf, did he take up his business?¡±

    Demmon stopped and turned. ¡°Are you buying or selling?¡±

    ¡°What if I had something to sell?¡± asked Kerra.

    ¡°Then you should go to the north docks and ask for Ed.¡±

    Then he was gone, slipped out of view beyond the corner of the alleyway.

    Kerra pushed open the door to the Maned Mare and her face was stung by the heat and smoke of the firepit inside. She stifled a small cough but still several of the patrons turned to look. The Maned mare was for the Smelters, the working men who operated the Aldrimar¡¯s forges and melted down the raw metals coming into Zaksburg from upriver. Those men were used to smog and smoke all hours of the day, and never coughed.

    The conversation halted for a moment as a chair squeaked across the wooden floor somewhere to her left. Niles stood and waved to her, wearing a blue tunic and that stupid, handsome grin of his.

    ¡°Kerra!¡± he said. ¡°There you are!¡±

    Damn him, he¡¯s always got to go shouting my name, she glowered as she made her way to the table, fighting the urge to pull her hood back up over her face. As always, Niles was surrounded by hangers on.

    ¡°Where have you been?¡± asked Niles with only a hint of mock chastisement. He bent in to embrace her, trying not to spill his beer. She felt the brush of his full brown beard and a peck of his lips on her cheek, and felt herself blushing.

    ¡°Nowhere,¡± she said, pushing herself away from him. He never seemed to know the right time or place for anything.

    ¡°Good,¡± said Niles. ¡°Here I was thinking you were getting into trouble again.¡±

    A buxom older woman, Marva, was setting two more flagons on the table while Niles¡¯ boys drained theirs and oggled Marva.

    ¡°Come, sit,¡± said Niles. ¡°Drink with us.¡±

    ¡°Niles,¡± said Kerra. ¡°I don¡¯t have time-¡±

    ¡°You gonna drink that or what?¡± asked the older monk with grey hair and bushy eyebrows. His name was Davit, and had fought with Niles during the last Rebellion. Though he¡¯d used to be a fearsome fighter, today he was a fearsome drunk.

    Kerra shook her head and he snatched it up greedily.

    ¡°Do you guys think I have a chance at the championship?¡± asked Niles.

    His younger companion slammed his fist into the table. ¡°Yor in for the foight of yor life,¡± the palehaired man said in a thick Goric accent. ¡°Oi almost had cha though. Tem lords¡¯ gonna eat ya alive.¡±

    Niles glared at the man, pointing but laughed. ¡°I was goin¡¯ easy on you Varnen. I used to teach the Knight of Zaksburg how to hold onto his sword, I¡¯m not worried about him.¡±

    ¡°I remember that,¡± Davit laughed. ¡°You used to beat that kid so bad his arms were bruises. He¡¯ll probably want revenge.¡±

    ¡°Let him try!¡± Niles agreed. All three of them laughed.

    ¡°Niles,¡± said Kerra. ¡°I need to talk to you.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± He waited for her start.

    ¡°Alone.¡±

    ¡°Ah. If you¡¯ll excuse us gentlemen.¡±

    The two men nodded absently, their attention caught by the return of the well-endowed Marva.

    Kerra and Niles made their way through the smoky common room and through the door to the private rooms rented out by the night. The Mare rarely had guests, and maintained only three actual rooms for rent. They had rented two of them.

    Hers was the smaller of them, with only enough room for the single bed. Niles removed his sword from his belt and sat down on the bed.

    ¡°So you really did miss me,¡± he said.

    ¡°Be serious for a minute, Niles,¡± Kerra said. ¡°I think I really am in trouble.¡±

    He sat up straight and grabbed for his sword, his playfulness gone.

    ¡°What happened?¡± Niles demanded.

    ¡°Allen¡¯s dead.¡±

    ¡°Shit.¡± Niles ran a hand through his thick brown hair. ¡°And you still have it?¡±

    She nodded. ¡°Only Sal was left, and he didn¡¯t know where any of the others had gone. He said most of them started looting and killing each other.¡±

    ¡°Well we¡¯ve got to find someone else to sell it to then,¡± said Niles. ¡°We can¡¯t keep it.¡±

    He didn¡¯t need to tell her why. The jeweled dagger she kept hidden in her cloak was a holy relic, looted by the Gors when they raided the ruins of Razen and driven the priests and monks out. Since then the dagger had passed through several hands, until it came to a chieftain who brought it west. Kerra had been sent to retrieve it from him at the Crow¡¯s request, and Allen would have had her pay.

    ¡°I have another buyer,¡± said Kerra. ¡°But I don¡¯t know him.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± said Niles, grinning. He had a sparkle in his eyes. Eyes colored like pure lakewater, a mix of blue and brown and grey met hers. ¡°You don¡¯t want to go alone.¡±

    Niles always liked to play hero.

 Chapter 16

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how this could have happened,¡± said Samael. Henric¡¯s younger uncle had deep bags beneath his eyes, and one of his eyebrows was missing. ¡°But I know I¡¯ve seen this writing before.¡±

    Late that evening, the three male descendents of the late Henric Aldrimar were alone in the Duke¡¯s Office above his castle¡¯s library, his sons pouring over the book that had kept their family¡¯s secrets for nine generations while his grandson sat back and watched the fire. It made the young man uncomfortable reading the words on the page, especially that one.

    ¡°Yes, but what does it mean?¡± asked Zak. ¡°Henric won¡¯t tell me.¡±

    ¡°Neither of you smell that, do you?¡± said Henric, his eyes never leaving the fire. Ever since he¡¯d woken up that morning he had been catching whiffs of Death everywhere.

    ¡°Smell what?¡±

    Henric said nothing as his uncle scanned shelf that lined the back wall. It was filled with books of records going back to the time of the first Zakaran, and Samael pulled one off from about twenty years ago. He dropped the second book on the desk, and started paging through it.

    ¡°Yes, here it is!¡± said Samael.

    Henric cautiously made his way over from his chair, careful not to catch a glimpse of the writing in the Book. Sam held one book up to the other, and the similarities were unmistakable.

    ¡°But that¡¯s...¡± said Henric.

    ¡°What? I don¡¯t get it,¡± said Zak. ¡°So he wrote like something in one of the books?¡±

    ¡°These records were handwritten by father,¡± said Samael.

    ¡°Oh. Woah.¡±

    ¡°Woah is right. You really don¡¯t remember how this happened Henric?¡±

    ¡°I really don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Hmm... What do you remember?¡±

    Henric took a moment to think about that. ¡°Not much. I was standing on the pulpit, saying the Rites with Father Ulan. He did the oil thing, and then I sat down. Next thing I remember is waking up at a desk, covered in drying ink.¡±

    ¡°Strange,¡± said Samael. ¡°I wonder if it has to do with the Rites?¡±

    ¡°Could it?¡± asked Zak. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of anything like this happening before.¡±

    ¡°Me neither, but that¡¯s just it. The Rites are considered part of the Miracles.¡±

    ¡°But aren¡¯t Miracles just superstition?¡± asked Zak.

    ¡°You haven¡¯t seen what I have,¡± said Samael. ¡°The monks have done great work inside the walls of Lullus.

    ¡°And the Crossing is a Miracle,¡± said Henric.

    His uncles both looked at him in surprise.

    ¡°I suppose so,¡± said Samael. ¡°So I guess we¡¯ve all seen one with our own eyes. Perhaps the Rites did exactly what they were supposed to do. Perhaps some part of our father really does live on in Henric now.¡±

    ¡°You think so?¡± asked Zak.

    ¡°It¡¯s a guess,¡± said Samael. ¡°But even it¡¯s true, I don¡¯t have the faintest idea what this is supposed to mean. What is Draciat?¡±

    Just the sound of the word made Henric¡¯s head as if it were splitting open and his vision blacked out. ¡°Ah!¡± he winced.

    ¡°Henric?¡± asked Samael.

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    ¡°Don¡¯t say that word,¡± said Henric. He was on his knees with his hands buried in the rich red carpet.

    Zak helped him back onto his feet. ¡°Are you alright?

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Henric assured him. Zak looked concerned, but Samael seemed to be evaluating him.¡±

    ¡°What happened?¡± his uncle asked.

    ¡°Everything went dark when you said that name.¡±

    ¡°Do you feel alright?¡± asked Sam.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Henric. ¡°But something happened to me during the Rites, that¡¯s the second time I blacked out like that. You really don¡¯t smell that?¡±

    The stench kept coming in whiffs, yet it seemed to hang in his nose. It was the smell of rotted flesh and Death.

    ¡°Ardas should have a look at you,¡± said Zak. ¡°Maybe that assassin knocked you harder than you thought?¡±

    ¡°He already has,¡± said Henric. ¡°The assassin only managed to give me a shallow cut and a few bruises. Count Arnult is worse off than I am. Ardas says I¡¯m fine.¡±

    ¡°Maybe he missed something,¡± said Zak.

    ¡°No,¡± said Henric. ¡°Of course he didn¡¯t Zak. If something is wrong with me, it¡¯s beyond Ardas. Speaking of, have you made any progress on the stone splitting he mentioned Sam?¡±

    Samael sighed. ¡°I¡¯ve been meaning to speak with you about that.¡±

    Henric raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°I¡¯m not making much progress, no,¡± Samael said. ¡°But a friend of mine back and the Unarium confirmed the monks have a record on stone blasting somewhere in the library¡¯s archives, but he hasn¡¯t found it yet. I¡¯m going to have to return to Lullus if I am to continue my research.¡±

    Samael pushed a single finger into the journal¡¯s open page.

    ¡°And then there¡¯s this. If we want to more about what happened here, Lullus may have the answers.¡±

    ¡°I was afraid you¡¯d say something like that,¡± said Henric. ¡°We can begin preparations for your departure next week, but I need your help with something first. Both of you.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± asked Zak.

    ¡°I think the Denizen has crossed into Life,¡± said Henric. ¡°We need to find it, and banish it.¡±

    Zak chuckled. Samael broke a grin, but remained silent.

    ¡°It¡¯s impossible Henric,¡± Samael said. ¡°Without a necromancer to help it across, Denizen¡¯s cannot leave the river.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never known you not to take a break Henric,¡± said Zak. ¡°What you need right now is rest.¡±

    ¡°Besides,¡± Samael said. ¡°I¡¯ve already ordered preparations. I leave tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°What? You should have talked to us,¡± said Zak, his face shifting from a grin to a scowl in an instant. He was madder than Henric had seen him in years. Even Samael paled under his brother¡¯s gaze.

    ¡°Do you really think it¡¯s a good time to be leaving?¡± Zak continued. ¡°There was an assassin within our walls three days ago, cracking statues apart with thunder, and you want to leave? When did you become such a coward little brother?¡±

    Henric¡¯s jaw went slack.

    ¡°I¡¯m no coward,¡± Samael said quietly. ¡°I¡¯m-¡±

    ¡°Just trying to run away.¡± Zak had a murderous look in his eye. He had five years and forty pounds on his brother, and there was nothing Henric could do if it came to blows save call the guards. ¡°Not even thinking about anyone but yourself. Damn it, we buried father and you¡¯re finding any excuse to leave.¡±

    ¡°I made my peace with that years ago,¡± Samael¡¯s words were tense, his left hand balled into a fist. ¡°He was dead that day the Old King dragged him into the Hall downstairs in chains and forced his surrender there in front of all of us.¡±

    ¡°You made peace with that?¡± Zak was incredulous. ¡°The memory of your father¡¯s humiliation, our humiliation doesn¡¯t boil your blood?¡±

    ¡°Of course it does!¡± said Samael. ¡°But who am I to avenge myself on? The Old King is dead. His sons and grandsons are dead, and not by Aldrimar blades. On King Heren for not returning him to us? We led armed rebellion against our kings for half a century, father for almost half of that. It would have been foolish to return him to us. Gareth saw that-¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± Henric spoke, but it felt like his father¡¯s words coming out. ¡°Both of you enough.¡±

    With a silent stare the brothers seemed to make their peace and sat.

    ¡°Zak is right,¡± said Henric. ¡°You should have asked me before making plans. It¡¯s my right after all if I¡¯m going to be paying for your attendance, even if I wasn¡¯t also your duke.¡±

    His uncle opened his mouth as if to interject, but Henric continued. ¡°But I¡¯m glad you did. If you can make more progress there, you should go. I want weekly updates.¡±

    ¡°Henric,¡± said Zak. ¡°You¡¯re really going to-¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to miss him too Zak,¡± said Henric. ¡°I think we should all get some rest. We have a big day tomorrow.¡±

    The brothers nodded, and stood. Henric closed the book as his uncles descended the stairs to the library. He sat in the overstuffed chair at the desk, and signed. There it was again, the stench noxious, rancid Death.

    He breathed deep. There was something familiar in the stench, and when he closed his eyes he could almost see it, the denizen snapping after him. And he knew the Denizen had crossed into life.

 Chapter 17

    Kerra was beginning to give up on finding Milyen¡¯s. They had spent more than an hour of walking up and down the empty riverfront past endless rows of red brick storehouses, twice. It was almost silent if not for the calls of porters laughing and joking with each other as they worked and the splashing of riverboat oars in the water. It was almost romantic watching the boats¡¯ small flames dance across the river turned silver ribbon by the Big Sister¡¯s light.

    ¡°How do you not know where we are going?¡± asked Niles.

    ¡°I was told the docks,¡± Kerra answered.

    The two of them sat on the low floodwall, looking back at a solid facade of dark warehouses. They must have looked like lovers out for a walk in the warm spring evening, because none of the few passers by seemed to pay them any mind. Kerra watched as a tall man wrapped in a dark cloak slipped down an alleyway between two of the low brick buildings.

    ¡°We¡¯ve been up and down the docks,¡± said Niles. ¡°And we don¡¯t have anything to show for it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not being helpful,¡± said Kerra.

    ¡°It¡¯s such a beautiful night, Kerra.¡± Niles was getting that damned twinkle in his eye. ¡°It¡¯d be a shame to waste it watching some stupid storehouses.¡±

    Whenever he got that twinkle, it meant he wanted some trouble. He¡¯d had it on the first night they¡¯d met when he¡¯d swept her up into the night and they¡¯d tried to steal a baron¡¯s ring off his finger. If Niles had his way, they¡¯d be sneaking into Aldrimar¡¯s castle to rearrange their furniture and liberate a few valuables. Either that or he was going to kiss her.

    Two men walking past grew quiet when they noticed Niles and Kerra standing there. They made a direct line for one of the storehouses and disappeared down one of the alleyways. Was that the same one the man in the coat had slipped down?

    ¡°Just be patient,¡± said Kerra. ¡°If we find what we¡¯re looking for, there¡¯s going to be plenty of trouble.¡±

    Niles pushed his lower lip into a pout, somehow looking like a big, bearded child.

    ¡°But Kerra,¡± he whined. ¡°Your kind of trouble is never any fun. Besides, you know I¡¯m not a patient man.¡±

    Two raggedy boys came running out of the alley and along the riverfront. Neither could have been older than ten.

    ¡°Then I have good news for you,¡± she said. ¡°I think I know where we¡¯re going.¡±

    She lept off the brick wall and headed towards the alleyway between storehouses. He caught up while she stopped and adjusted to the alley¡¯s darkness.

    ¡°This way,¡± she said, taking off without giving him a chance to keep up.

    ¡°Wait!¡± said Niles.

    The alleyway turned, first right then left in quick succession, and she could see light leaking out of a doorframe ahead. Then she heard a thud, and the sound of Niles cursing.

    ¡°You couldn¡¯t have warned me about that?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Quiet,¡± she hissed, crouched low, her ear pressed to the door. Muffled voices echoed through the cold wood. "There¡¯s definitely people inside.¡±

    Niles rapped his fingers against the wood, surprising Kerra and knocking both of them to the ground.

    ¡°Damn it!¡± Kerra said. ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    Before he had a chance to respond, the door swung open and bathed them in warm torchlight. A large bellied man was silhouetted in the doorway, glaring at them.

    ¡°Wuts you doin?¡± the big man grumbled as they picked themselves up. ¡°Yous comin¡¯ in or na?¡±

    He allowed Kerra to pass with no issue, but stopped Niles with a meaty fist to the chest.

    ¡°Da sword stay wit me,¡± said the big man with a thick Goric accent. He certainly looked the part of a recently civilized barbarian.

    Niles arched an eyebrow. ¡°Is that so?¡±

    ¡°Niles! Don¡¯t!¡±

    Kerra¡¯s words fell on deaf ears. Behind her, the back of the warehouse was chaos, a hidden bazar. Men milled about down rows of stalls arranged in a maze, haggling with the pelders for goods of ill repute. Soon the dagger in her pocket would be set out on one of those stalls, no longer her problem.

    ¡°Tis da rule,¡± the big man said. ¡°No sword. No hammer. No spear. You gon git it back when you go.¡±

    Niles snorted. Though his hands hadn¡¯t moved, his eyes were already boring into the big man, planning his moves. Kerra was starting to think she would have been better off alone.

    ¡°Oi!¡± came a voice from behind her. ¡°Is that DuErden? Thu let him in!¡±

    The big man turned to the voice. ¡°He got a sword Mil.¡±

    ¡°And you couldn¡¯t take it from him if you wanted to,¡± said Mil. He was a dark haired man dressed in a rich purple robe, his fingers adorned with golden rings, and followed by at least three other men. ¡°He¡¯ll be fine, let him in.¡±

    Niles made a point to check Thu as he walked past.

    ¡°Thanks stranger,¡± said Niles. ¡°I came lookin¡¯ for a good deal, not trouble.¡±

    The man laughed. ¡°Well you¡¯ve come to the right place for either one, and plenty else. What¡¯s your pleasure DuErden?¡± He clasped an arm around Niles¡¯ shoulder and began leading him away. ¡°Who¡¯s your friend?¡±

    Kerra shot a glance at Niles. He was going to speak.

    ¡°Alyra,¡± she said, pulling back her hood to reveal her long dark braid. She gave the stranger a look, and a grin. ¡°You¡¯re Milyen aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Beautiful and clever,¡± sid Milyen with a sly smile that made her skin crawl. Niles quietly clenched a fist. ¡°How did you know?¡±

    ¡°Lucky guess,¡± she said.

    ¡°Lucky indeed,¡± he eyed her skeptically. ¡°Perhaps you¡¯ll be lucky enough to find what you came looking for. As you can see, I have many, many things for sale.¡±

    ¡°Actually, we came hoping to do the selling.¡±

    ¡°My my, aren¡¯t you full of surprises.¡±

    Milyen led them past a row of stalls and through a doorway at the back of the warehouse. The room inside was well furnished in

    ¡°So what do you have for me?¡± asked Milyen, eyes greedy.

    Kerra pulled the jeweled dagger from her coat and held it up for him to see. All conversation in the room stopped. The whole of the dagger was ornate, from the emerald at the pommel to the wide, slightly curved blade and the faded green sheath wrapped in a crisscrossed helix of golden bands. She could hear murmurs at the edges of the room, but her eyes never left the dark-eyed Milyen, his mouth hanging open.

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    ¡°Is that...¡± Milyen slowly stood from his chair and closed the gap to Kerra.

    ¡°Razic? Yes, and it¡¯s yours,¡± said Kerra as she pulled it back from his grasp. ¡°For five hundred golds.¡±

    Milyen waved at one of his attendants, who began digging through one of the chests along the back wall. ¡°How did you get this?¡± Milyen¡¯s gaze was fixed on the dagger, tracking it as she waved the dagger about.

    ¡°It was... liberated from a Goric lord,¡± said Kerra. ¡°He wore it a bit too proudly and boasted it used to be some old king¡¯s once.¡±

    That made the man laugh, which made Kerra uncomfortable. A glance at Niles confirmed she wasn¡¯t alone.

    ¡°You¡¯ve done me a great service,¡± said Milyen. He motioned to his attendant, who placed a bag of coins into his outstretched hand with a clink. ¡°You have a deal.¡±

    Bag and dagger traded hands, and both parties began to inspect their winnings. Milyen pulled the dagger from it¡¯s sheath, firelight glinting off the blade. His grin was wide, but there was something in it that put Kerra off.

    Kerra pulled back the string on the bag of coins, but as she did she caught the glint of firelight off something metal to her side. She looked up in time to see the blade coming right at her.

    ¡°Niles!¡± she cried as she hit the floor, her right arm undoing the straps that held her own dagger in place on her left side.

    Metal scraped against metal and men grunted. Kerra knocked her assailant¡¯s feet out from under him with a sweeping kick, and sprung back onto her own feet in one motion. Behind her, Niles was locking blades with another of Milyen¡¯s attendants. More men had drawn blades and were moving in, but Milyen himself was nowhere to be found.

    ¡°Kerra run!¡± shouted Niles.

    She wasted no time, and threw herself back against the flimsy wooden door. It swung back and she darted down the short hallway. A guard still waited there, and tried to block her way. But he wasn¡¯t fast enough, and Kerra¡¯s dagger left a gash in his chest as she ran by. At the alleyway door she turned, shouted. ¡°Niles!¡±

    He was still fighting in the other room. Metal clanged and cut and men screamed and swore, then Niles emerged from the room covered in blood, running with sword in hand. ¡°GO!¡±

    Men chased behind them as they bust from the alleyway onto the riverfront. They looked left, then right. ¡°Try swimming it?¡± asked Niles as they ran.

    ¡°Hardly,¡± Kerra shook her head. There was still snow on the ground in the eastern hills and the waters would be too cold. ¡°We¡¯d freeze before we reached the other side.¡±

    ¡°So which gate is closest then?¡± he asked.

    ¡°They¡¯ll be shut,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s night.¡±

    ¡°Damn it. You have any ideas then?¡±

    ¡°One,¡± she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him down another alleyway. She didn¡¯t like the idea, but it was the only one she had.

    ¡°Where did they go?¡± a man shouted behind them.

    ¡°Don¡¯t let them get away!¡± came another.

    The alleyway twisted and turned its way deeper into the Northriver district. They turned a corner and stopped, face to face with a young girl no older than eight. The dirty girl looked up at them, and for a moment there was only pregnant silence. Kerra hoped this wasn¡¯t one of Milyen¡¯s little spies.

    The girl screamed. The piercing shriek rang out through the night, and she could hear men shouting behind her yelling, heading towards the noise.

    ¡°Damn it,¡± Niles grumbled and pushed past the girl. Kerra followed. ¡°Where are we going?¡± Niles asked once they had run a ways from the screaming girl.

    ¡°Allen¡¯s,¡± said Kerra.

    In spite of all their twists and turns, it seemed like Milyen¡¯s men were gaining on them as they slipped down the narrow alleyway towards the Den. Kerra was surprised at how easily Niles pushed back the false wall and they slipped in.

    Kerra threw open the hatch to the cellar, then went to the stove and lit a candle. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re going to hide here?¡± asked Niles as he crouched to follow her into the low basement.

    ¡°No,¡± said Kerra as she stomped her boot into the floor, listening for the hollow stone. When she found it, she set her candle on the floor pulled the loose stone back with a grunt. The sound of running water filled the small basement room. ¡°We¡¯re escaping.¡±

    Without another word she slipped down through the gap in the floor and landed with a splash. ¡°Grab the candle!¡± she called up behind her. ¡°I can¡¯t see a thing.¡±

    Niles mumbled something above, and then hung his feet over the edge, dropping in. ¡°Damn it,¡± he swore. ¡°I almost dropped the damn candle.¡±

    ¡°Can you reach the stone?¡± she asked.

    He reached and shook his head.

    ¡°Never mind, let¡¯s go.¡±

    Kerra took the candle from Niles. They had only another hour or two left of it, three if they were lucky. She held the candle up, and looked first left, then right and decided to follow the flow of water past her ankles. The tunnel turned and twisted, and soon Kerra had lost all sense of where she was in the city above. She just knew to follow the water.

    ¡°Did you hear that?¡± Niles stopped.

    Faint voices echoed down the tunnel behind them. Milyen¡¯s men must have known how Allen moved in and out of the city. Kerra cursed under her breath.

    And so they ran. Following the current as it turned left and right, diverting down a side tunnel and leaving larger passages unexplored. Kerra stopped for a second as they came past one of these, staring into the dark and swearing something was watching them.

    Niles almost slammed into her from behind. ¡°Woah, Kerra. Is everything alright? You know where we¡¯re going right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°Of course I do. I¡¯ve been this way before.¡±

    ¡°You have?¡± Niles sounded surprised.

    ¡°Once.¡± She¡¯d meant it to be comforting.

    Before them came the sounds of falling water, and behind came men¡¯s voices. Occassionaly she¡¯d catch a glimpse of an orange glow in the corner of her eye as they turned a corner.

    ¡°Kerra,¡± Niles whispered.

    She ignored him. The less noise they made, the easier it would be to lose the men behind them.

    ¡°Kerra,¡± he said again.

    When she didn¡¯t respond he grabbed her wrist. Kerra stopped.

    ¡°Look,¡± he said over the sound of rushing water. ¡°Your candle. It¡¯s pointing the wrong way.¡±

    The flame bent forward, pointing deeper into the waterway as if blown by a gentle breeze. She took a few steps forward, and the flame still led instead of following after like it was supposed to.

    Then she saw the gap. Their tunnel emptied itself into a great black void. Leaning out as far as she¡¯d dared, Kerra saw other passageways on the other walls with no way to reach them.

    ¡°So how do we get down?¡± Niles asked, peering over her shoulder. His sword was drawn and pointed down the hall behind them.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Kerra said. ¡°Maybe there was a ladder last time, but I don¡¯t know. I might not have even come this way at all.¡±

    ¡°I suppose here is as good as any to make a stand.¡±

    Kerra looked behind them. The stones on the far wall were glowing with a faint orange.

    ¡°It¡¯s either that or jump.¡±

    Milyen¡¯s men turned the corner.

    ¡°Finally,¡± said the red haired man she recognized from Milyen¡¯s wearhouse, his jagged dagger drawn. ¡°Now you got nowhere else to run.¡± Men sneered behind him, weapons at the ready. Their leader charged.

    Niles met the rushing thug. In the dim light of the candle and the torch, it was hard to make sense of anything. Mens screams echoed into a deafening roar, and Kerra could have swore the water at her feet was growing darker.

    Before her, Niles elbowed the other man¡¯s face into the stonework wall. Milyen¡¯s man slumped into a heap, legs soaking in the water. Niles brought up his sword, ready for the next man, but none came.

    In the darkness, shadows shifted and splashed. Blades swung and men screamed and Kerra thought she could hear snapping bone. It was as if Milyen¡¯s men were tearing themselves apart but no, there was something moving unnaturally among them. Niles saw it too.

    ¡°We need to run,¡± she said.

    ¡°Where?¡± asked Niles.

    She remembered the gap behind them where the tunnel ended at open darkness and the water emptied. Could they get around whatever it was tearing those men apart?

    ¡°We¡¯ll have to jump,¡± Kerra said. ¡°It¡¯s a waterfall, there¡¯s might be some kind of pool at the bottom to break our fall.¡±

    Niles glanced at her, and then back down the tunnel. Bone snapped and a man screamed, sending shivers down Kerra¡¯s spine. Niles nodded.

    At once, the two of them turned and darted towards the gap. She felt herself step into air, and she heard herself scream

 Chapter 18

    Henric was surprised to hear voices coming from the library below when he opened the study¡¯s door. Listening closely, they sounded like girls laughing, and when he came to the balcony below he saw his sisters and Megan gathered around a table below.

    ¡°Hello?¡± Henric called out.

    There was a gasp and then silence. The girls looked around for a moment before Megan noticed him up on the balcony.

    ¡°Henric,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s just you. We thought everyone was asleep.¡±

    Alizia and Adelin both let out a sigh of relief.

    ¡°Just me?¡± Henric laughed as he made his way down the spiral staircase to the library¡¯s lower level. As he came around the center post, he could see Megan blush. ¡°I¡¯m the highest authority for a hundred miles or more in any direction. You wish I was still just me.¡±

    ¡°Oh stop it,¡± said Alizia. ¡°You¡¯ve been my little brother longer than you¡¯ve been duke, so you¡¯re still my little brother.¡±

    ¡°Until I¡¯ve been duke longer than I¡¯ve been your brother huh?¡± he asked, stroking at an imaginarily bearded chin as if in thought.

    ¡°Don¡¯t struggle too hard Henric,¡± said Adelin. ¡°I¡¯ll be older than you by the time you figure it out.¡±

    The girls laughed. Henric mussed up his little sister¡¯s golden hair as he sat down at the table beside with them.

    ¡°Is Mathev still around?¡± he asked, setting Zakaran¡¯s journal face down on the table, not realizing until now he¡¯d been carrying it.

    ¡°No he went home, drunk,¡± Adelin said. ¡°What are you still doing up?¡±

    ¡°Reading,¡± said Henric. ¡°Samael is leaving tomorrow. Zak¡¯s pretty mad about it, but it¡¯s for the best.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± asked Alizia. ¡°So suddenly?¡±

    ¡°You know how Sam is,¡± Henric said. ¡°He hardly even thinks of himself when he gets wrapped up in something. I was going to go to sleep, but now I worry if I do I¡¯ll miss him.¡±

    ¡°Well Megan is telling our fortunes,¡± Adelin said. ¡°She was just doing mine before you so rudely interrupted us.¡±

    On the table in front of them were three small cards face down, all painted with an intricate design. Henric supposed cards might be a good distraction. He didn¡¯t spend enough time with his sisters as it was.

    ¡°You¡¯re a fortune teller now?¡± Henric asked Megan, arching an eyebrow.

    ¡°It¡¯s just something I picked in the capitol.¡± She picked up a neat stack of extra cards set off to the side, and locked gazes with Adelin. ¡°Are you sure you want to know? Knowledge of the future can be a dangerous thing.¡±

    The younger girl rolled her big blue eyes. ¡°It¡¯s only tomorrow Megan quit being so dramatic.¡±

    ¡°What do all these cards mean?¡± Henric asked. Two were face up, and they were set aside from seven others that were set out in a row in front of Adelin.

    ¡°Just be quiet and watch,¡± Adelin hissed.

    ¡°The fortunes are already on the table,¡± said Megan. ¡°These first two are just to tell us if the news is good or bad, in case we decide we¡¯re better off not looking.¡±

    ¡°Flip them!¡± Adelin said.

    Megan turned over the first card. The girls gasped at the red bird, but Henric couldn¡¯t fathom why. He couldn¡¯t imagine a chicken meaning anything significant, but the girls seemed excited. Megan flipped the third card to show a black flower, leaving only the middle card unflipped. Adelin¡¯s smile vanished.

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    ¡°What happened?¡± asked Henric. ¡°Bad news?¡±

    ¡°Might be,¡± said Alizia. ¡°Red is good news, black for bad. This could go either way, or be both.¡±

    ¡°So the symbols don¡¯t mean anything?¡± he asked. ¡°Just the colors?¡±

    ¡°Only in the first two,¡± his big sister said.

    Megan had a concerned look, staring at the black card. ¡°Lizi had that card too,¡± she said when she noticed Henric looking. ¡°That doesn¡¯t happen often. I thought I shuffled better than that.¡±

    ¡°I had it in the first flip Megan,¡± said Alizia. ¡°You shuffled fine, it¡¯s not like I had a red hen in my fortune.¡±

    ¡°True...¡± said Megan. ¡°How about it little lady, do you still want to know what tomorrow has for you?¡±

    Adelin bobbed her golden head. ¡°Do it.¡±

    The four of them held their breaths as Megan flipped the center card. A red eye.

    ¡°A truth will be revealed to you,¡± said Megan. ¡°But it may be bittersweet.¡±

    Adelin sighed. ¡°A truth? I hate fortunes, they¡¯re too vague.¡±

    ¡°I like mine,¡± said Alizia.

    The little sister turned on the big. ¡°That¡¯s because yours said you¡¯re going to find love tomorrow.¡±

    Aliza blushed.

    ¡°How about you Henric?¡± asked Megan, shuffling the deck again. ¡°It¡¯s either that or they¡¯re going to ask me for their next week and years. I¡¯m starting to regret even mentioning I¡¯d learned.¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Henric shrugged. ¡°How¡¯d you learn anyway?¡±

    ¡°Enisa taught me,¡± she said, splitting the stack.

    ¡°Who¡¯s Enisa?¡± asked Henric.

    Alizia gasped. Henric was supposed to know who that was. ¡°Enisa Lanxier. You¡¯ve met her.¡±

    ¡°Right, the duke¡¯s daughter.¡± It had been years ago. She was an older girl, closer to Samael¡¯s age and had laughed at Henric. ¡°So how far ahead can you predict?¡±

    ¡°I can foretell your next day, your next week, and your next year,¡± said Megan locking bright brown eyes with him. ¡°What will it be?¡±

    ¡°Year.¡±

    Megan¡¯s nod set her brown curls bobbing. ¡°The rules are a little different for the Year. The first two cards have to match, one red and one black. That¡¯s the only way we know the fortune is real, otherwise we¡¯re just flipping cards.¡± She set out two cards, face down on opposite ends of the table, and then set four more in a neat row in front of Henric. ¡°Turn over the Two.¡±

    The first was a black heart, the second a red. Henric¡¯s heart beat fast in his chest. Did he really care what some cards said?

    ¡°So we¡¯re in business,¡± said Megan. His sisters watched in silent anticipation as Megan laid out four more cards and then turned them face up. ¡°Black circle, red sword, red hound, black square. I¡¯d hoped that wouldn¡¯t be the case.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Your fortune was already on the table when I laid these cards,¡± said Megan. ¡°They¡¯re just supposed to warn us if the news is good or bad, in case you decide you don¡¯t want to know.¡±

    Henric nodded. ¡°I want to know.¡±

    She flipped the other four cards to reveal a red eye, a black warrior, a red flame, and a black flower. Megan gasped. ¡°Again?¡±

    ¡°The flower?¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± said Adelin. ¡°What does it mean?¡±

    ¡°This Winter, Henric is going to learn a truth, but he will not like it,¡± Megan said. ¡°But not before winning a terrible victory in the Fall. The Summer has red flames, a time of passion.¡±

    ¡°And what is the black flower?¡± asked Alizia. ¡°What does it mean?¡±

    ¡°Death.¡± The word blurted from Henric¡¯s lips, though he hadn¡¯t even thought to say them.

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Megan. ¡°How did you know?¡±

    He thought to the mark on his left arm, covered by his sleeve, and thought about his father and grandfather. The same mark from the front of the book face down on the table. What kind of Aldrimar was he if he couldn¡¯t recognize Death? ¡°A lucky guess.¡±

    There was that stench again.

    ¡°It¡¯s true Henric,¡± said Megan. ¡°Except I don¡¯t think you understand. If it came up like this, it means Death isn¡¯t done with you yet.¡±

    ¡°No, of course not,¡± Henric said. ¡°I didn¡¯t think it was.¡±

 Chapter 19

    Kerra tucked her legs in and hoped the water was deep enough. It felt like stone when the hit the pool below, and the bottom came up too quickly for her comfort. She kicked off from the rocky bottom, but felt her ankle caught in a crack of stone. Icy water swallowed her scream for help. Where was Niles?

    A thick arm wrapped itself around her waist and pulled. She could feel the force of it twist her ankle. Their heads broke the surface.

    ¡°Kerra,¡± said Niles. ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    She coughed up water. ¡°My ankle.¡±

    ¡°Shit,¡± he swore. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me. Worry about how we¡¯re getting out of here.¡± Kerra didn¡¯t know why she was scolding.

    Their candle was gone, lost somewhere between the drop and the rushing neck-high water, stranding them in total darkness. Niles held her up with his left arm, and pawed at the wall with his right.

    ¡°Here,¡± she said, shifting her weight to move behind Niles. It was hard to resist the current, and she felt her warmth being sapped away by the second. Kerra wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms across his shoulders. ¡°It should be easier for you this way.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± he sputtered. ¡°You don¡¯t know how to get out of here do you?¡±

    She shook her head, ¡°No. But I know this eventually flows into the river.¡±

    ¡°So follow the water...¡± Niles grumbled. ¡°What do you think that thing was?¡± His voice echoed off the walls like shouts. The water had come down a bit, no longer a risk of washing over his head.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± said Kerra. ¡°It looked like a man.¡±

    ¡°It didn¡¯t move like one.¡± Niles¡¯ voice was grim and a shiver ran down his spine. Was that just the cold? ¡°Its arms.. I thought I saw it¡¯s arms bend backwards to gut one of those men.¡±

    How had he seen all that? In the chaos she¡¯d hardly known what was going on before they jumped.

    ¡°Whatever it was,¡± said Kerra. ¡°I don¡¯t think it followed us. I didn¡¯t hear anything else drop in with us.¡±

    Kerra had no idea how long they continued on like that, in the cold darkness. It might have been completely silent if not for the rushing water pressing against their backs and their occasional gasps when their heads got washed under. But still they moved forward, feeling for a way out.

    She found herself remembering her mother. Mother carried Kerra on her back, though she had been much smaller then. Under clouds of incoming storms, the sky was almost as dark as in these tunnels. Hadn¡¯t mother been singing something that night? What was it?

    ¡°Mamare evu sa sanim.¡±

    The singing started low and quiet, hardly more than a whisper Kerra herself wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d heard.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Niles asked.

    ¡°A song to call out the stars.¡±

    ¡°Down here? You think that will work?¡±

    Kerra¡¯s answer came in song, ¡°Vaniri sama bru Zere nelim.¡± She continued on. Once she¡¯d begun, the words came back to her quickly. The melody itself was a simple thing, and soon even Niles was humming along, but the words... The more she sung the more the words burned in her mind, too hot to hold there and screaming to be let out. In the tunnel the echoes seemed almost like a chorus.

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    Niles stopped. ¡°Kerra, do you see that?¡±

    Kerra lifted her head and stopped singing. ¡°I don¡¯t-¡±

    And then she did. As the echoes of her song faded, there was a twinkle of light receeding into the deep in the darkness ahead of them. She sucked in a breath, and quickly began the song again from where the echoes left it.

    The light flickered, and Niles let go of the wall. He let the current carry them forward while Kerra sung. Closer and closer, the light grew brighter.

    ¡°I think we¡¯re going to make it Kerra,¡± he sounded like Niles again. ¡°Don¡¯t stop singing.¡±

    She didn¡¯t. The light grew brighter still. This tunnel must open to daylight. Had they really been down here long enough for the sun to come up?

    But then the light began to move. Slowly at first, it inched towards the ceiling, its ascent speeded the closer they came. As it moved, she caught a glint of something on the left wall.

    ¡°Niles,¡± Kerra said.

    ¡°I see it,¡± he replied.

    Beneath her, Kerra could feel the man shift his weight and push towards the tunnels other wall. The current was stronger in the center of the flow, and they were rushed along much faster than she anticipated. If it weren¡¯t for Niles¡¯ quick reflexes and outstretched hand, they would have missed their mark and been swept away. All the while, the light receded further up the shaft, illuminating bars of iron in the stone to create a ladder.

    ¡°Can you climb?¡± Niles asked.

    Without another word, Kerra slipped from his back and pulled herself up the first few rungs. Above the light was fading. Kerra sucked in a breath. She sang as she climbed, rung after rung, note after note chasing after the twinkling light above.

    Soon there were no more handholds and she reached out into open air. Looking up, the light had gone, retreating down a tunnel.

    Niles grunted as he pulled himself up behind her. ¡°Do you smell that?¡± he asked. ¡°Like rot. I¡¯d thought we¡¯d be at the surface by now, breathing fresh air.¡±

    Still, lacking options they followed after the light. Here in this tunnel, the beautiful chorus was accompanied by a the sound of scraping stone, but she had no time to investigate without breaking the briskest pace the song would allow.

    Something stepped in front of the light, casting a vaguely mannish silhouette. Kerra gasped and the light went out behind the thing. Only they weren¡¯t left in total darkness. Behind the vague outline of the creature she could see a beam of light and hear the trickle of water.

    The thing whipped its head back, let out the most wheezing, tortured bellow she had ever heard, and charged in a three-limped lope. Echoes from the creature¡¯s screams chilled her to the bone, staying her feet. This was the thing that tore Milyen¡¯s men apart. It was nothing more than a shadow in the dim light, but to Kerra it moved like a marionette made of a man¡¯s parts.

    ¡°Kerra!¡± Niles said, pulling his sword from it¡¯s sheath.

    Her own hands flew to the dagger at her left side, and pulled it free of its scabbard. The thing approached, and in the narrow tunnel she wouldn¡¯t have much room to maneuver. She would have to be quick.

    It lunged at her. Kerra dodged left, towards the wall and thrust out with her knife feeling it sink into flesh as her back slammed against the wall.

    Only the creature didn¡¯t howl in pain. It ignored the dagger and flung one of its arms up to catch Kerra in the chest, knocking the wind from her. With one arm, it held her against the wall by her shoulder, and she struggled to breathe.

    Niles screamed, and she felt the creature shake. Kerra heard the whipping of a sword through the air and the sound of it ripping into flesh, again and again.

    The air whizzed just before her face and the creature¡¯s grip went limp. Niles grunted and the thing fell away. Without another thought she ran towards the grey light. Ankle deep water splashed with every step as she hurried towards the exit, towards daylight. Behind her, she could hear grunts and cuts and the sound of blows echoing out of the darkness.

    Turning the corner, she could see the daylight and the bases of the trees outside. The opening was narrow, probably some natural cave somewhere along the riverside. She turned back to listen for Niles, but the echoes had stopped. The only thing behind her was silence.

    A figure shifted in the dark. She could hear the soft sounds of leather scraping against stone, and a shadowy figure, hunched over, lurched forward out of the dark.

    ¡°Kerra,¡± said Niles. Blood poured down his face, and he wore a stupid grin on his face. He looked ready to faint in her arms. ¡°It¡¯s okay, I killed it.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± said Kerra, holding him up under the shoulder to take the pressure off his injured foot. Clumsily the two of them splashed their way out into the early morning light. ¡°I¡¯ll take your word for it.¡±

 Chapter 20

    Chapter 20

    The chirping birds kept Henric company as he worked in the predawn grey, preparing and saddling two horses from the castle stables.

    ¡°A lord must be a master of his castle, and capable of all tasks himself," his father used to say, and so much of his early life was spent working weeks or months at some servant¡¯s task. Henric hadn¡¯t minded working with the horses, except when the made him do the mucking.

    Both mares were saddled and bridled and hitched to a post while Henric waited. One stamped her feet and snorted.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± said Henric. ¡°He won¡¯t be long now.¡±

    Sure enough, as a streak of orange flared into the sky the castle¡¯s door creaked open and a grey cloaked figure stepped out to look around. Henric waved and the figure stopped mid-step, shoulders dropping.

    ¡°What are you doing here Henric?¡± Samael asked, eyeing the two saddled horses. ¡°Why aren¡¯t you asleep?¡±

    ¡°I could ask you the same things uncle,¡± said Henric. ¡°But I already know the answer, you were going to try to sneak away before anyone noticed. Weren¡¯t you?¡±

    Samael looked Henric over with his grey-green eyes. ¡°Yeah,¡± he admitted finally. ¡°But you¡¯re not here to stop me.¡±

    Henric grinned, and shifted to undo the tie that kept the horses from wandering off. ¡°Of course not. I just wanted to speak with you a bit, and figured there¡¯d be no better time than now.¡±

    The gatesmen allowed them to pass without issue, after all it was not their place to argue with their duke, and the two Aldrimars were soon riding through the streets of the sleeping city built by their grandfathers. They headed south, towards the River Gate. Henric could smell the dew, the budding trees along the lanes, the scent of baking bread, and the rancid, rotting smell of Death.

    ¡°I ordered Lucan to have two men ready to escort you to Lulus,¡± said Henric. ¡°But I suppose you knew that?¡±

    Samael nodded. ¡°The trip is safest the faster I ride, and they¡¯d just slow me down. Bringing protection would only make me less safe.¡±

    ¡°It almost seems like you¡¯re trying to escape somewhere,¡± said Henric.

    ¡°I¡¯m not!¡± said Samael. ¡°I assure you. I¡¯ll even send a bird as soon as I¡¯ve arrived.¡±

    Henric laughed, and Samael sighed.

    ¡°You¡¯re not funny nephew.¡±

    ¡°I know you¡¯d tell me where you were going,¡± Henric said. ¡°It¡¯s not like you¡¯re Zak. He might actually try to disappear.¡±

    ¡°You think I wouldn¡¯t?¡± Samael¡¯s eyebrow arched.

    The Rivergate was already open, letting farmers and their carts into the city to peddle yesterday¡¯s pickings. On the bridge, with the flow of the river below him, Henric could almost feel the pull of Death.

    ¡°Do you feel that?¡± Henric asked.

    ¡°Feel what? Henric you¡¯ve got to stop doing this. I¡¯m actually starting to worry about you.¡±

    First that stench and now this? Henric thought. Maybe I really am going mad.

    He pulled up on the reins, urging his mare to stop, Samael followed suit.

    ¡°Concentrate,¡± said Henric. ¡°Just like we were crossing over. Don¡¯t you feel the current?¡±

    Samael closed his eyes and breathed in deep. ¡°I do!¡± he said finally. ¡°But how did you?¡±

    Henric shrugged and nudged his horse onwards. ¡°No idea.¡±

    The pulling faded as soon as they crossed over the bridge onto dry land again. Their horses kicked up dirt as they rode away from the city, into the low forested hills.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°You never told me,¡± said Henric. ¡°How did you do that thing in Death? The banishing?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t even know where to begin,¡± said Samael. ¡°I told you before I¡¯m not really sure how I did it, right?¡±

    Henric nodded.

    ¡°It¡¯s like a binding, only I concentrated on forcing the thing to run away. I felt an intense heat from the palm of my hand, like thermals above a fire. I collected the escaping heat into a ball, and threw it once I could tell where you are.¡±

    ¡°It looked almost violet when it buzzed past me,¡± said Henric. ¡°And the denizen sure didn¡¯t want to be hit by it.¡±

    ¡°I saw that,¡± said Samael. ¡°The funny thing about the whole thing is that banishings are supposed to use wind, but I used heat instead.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± asked Henric. ¡°Supposed to? Is this from that book you found? What was it called?¡±

    Samael sighed. ¡°Is this really what you wanted to ask me about?¡±

    ¡°Can you tell me how the assassin did that to my father¡¯s statue?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Can you tell me what that name is?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Then yes, that is what I wanted to ask you about,¡± said Henric. ¡°I might not have gotten another chance until Harvest.¡±

    ¡°I guess,¡± said Samael.

    By then they had come to a fork in the road, one turning east and heading into the mountains, the other turning south and west, towards Lullus and the heart of the Kingdom.

    ¡°I suppose this is where we say our goodbyes uncle,¡± said Henric, reining back his horse and turning her around in the fork.

    Samael nodded, and then flipped a long blond lock out his face. ¡°Until I see you again nephew.¡±

    The two of them drew their horses close and clasped arms at the wrists.

    ¡°Write me at least once weekly,¡± said Henric, voice suddenly stern.

    ¡°I was going to say the same to you,¡± Samael grinned. ¡°Farewell Henric.¡±

    Samael led his horse down the southward path, and soon faded from view. Once he was sure his uncle had gone, Henric urged his horse back northwards, towards the city.

    However he turned off the road onto a goat track leading into the hills. Henric did as best he could to follow the same path he and his uncles had taken that morning more than a month ago. The forest looked different now, more alive, and even the ever present stench of Death seemed muted here. It was a relief not to smell rot for once, but its absence also worried Henric. Shouldn¡¯t the smell be stronger if the denizen is near?

    The sun had risen high when he finally found the stream, he tied his horse to a low hanging branch, and waded in. He pulled a chalk from his cloak¡¯s pocket, and marked out the runes in a rough cardinal diamond around his position. Already he could feel the current tugging at him.

    ¡°Muzum ala thebeth,¡± said Henric, again and again, eyes closed. The current had its way.

    Henric opened his eyes to the grey fog of Death. Unconsciously he took a step, and then another, and then another. He stopped. I can¡¯t let the current take hold of me.

    Feet planted in the ankle deep water, Henric dug in his cloak pocket for something else, but found it suspiciously empty. His hand flew to his sword, which was missing as well. Luckily the small violet crystal was still in his pocket where he had left it. Perhaps Syblan would have an explanation.

    In Death the crystal seemed alive with purple flames, but he could feel no heat from it. He whistled to it, until the flames grew larger than his head and he tossed the stone into the air.

    With a puff, a flash, and a gust that blew back the fog to show the starless sky above, Sylban¡¯s lanky form appeared.

    ¡°Hello again little Aldrimar,¡± the spirit said with a smile that threatened to split its head. ¡°Will it be bindings again or... No, something¡¯s changed. I shouldn¡¯t be calling you ¡®little¡¯ Aldrimar anymore, should I?¡±

    Henric frowned. ¡°You never should have in the first place. But nothing¡¯s changed.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps not Aldrimar,¡± Sylban said. ¡°We will see. So, why have you called me out then?¡± He looked around, suddenly nervous. ¡°Am I bait?¡±

    ¡°Maybe I should,¡± Henric said. ¡°But I don¡¯t think there¡¯s anything to worry about, the Denizen¡¯s crossed over into life.¡±

    ¡°Has it now?¡± asked Sylban.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure how,¡± said Henric. ¡°But I don¡¯t feel it here like I did in life. Any idea how that works?¡±

    The spirit shook its head and shrugged its ghastly shoulders. ¡°Not unless there¡¯s another necromancer about. Maybe an unbaptized child?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± said Henric.

    ¡°So that¡¯s why you called me out?¡±

    ¡°Oh no,¡± said Henric. ¡°Hold still.¡±

    Henric tried to remember what Samael had told him earlier. Hand outstretched, palm up, he forced heat up through his hand until he began to see it shimmer in the air.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Sylban asked.

    ¡°Hold still,¡± Henric insisted. He forced the heat shimmers into a ball with his other hand, warm but not burning, and it swelled to the size of a melon. Henric eyed Sylban, and drew his outstretched arm back, and threw.

    As the ball left his hand, he felt all his heat go with it. Henric panicked, and the ball dissipated midair. He felt a shiver run up him as the warmth came flooding back.

    ¡°Lord Aldrimar!¡± Sylban chided in mock horror. ¡°Did you mean to hit me with that?¡±

    Henric focused the heat onto his palm again, only less of it this time. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to hurt you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not reassur-¡±

    A small ball of purple light no larger than a pebble zipped through Sylban¡¯s chest and he puffed into a cloud of fog, only to reappear at Henric¡¯s side.

    ¡°So that¡¯s what happens if I hit you?¡± asked Henric, preparing a third. ¡°This might actually be fun.¡±

 Chapter 21

    Chapter 21

    Megan awoke with the midmorning sun in her eyes, and a warm breeze playing in her hair. Neither of these was what woke her, she had slept well into many afternoons on the lounge by Alizia¡¯s window. Instead, it was a knock at the door that roused her from her dreams. In that brief moment before she fully woke Megan thought she was back in the capitol.

    Adelin Aldrimar pushed open the door and Clair followed her in. The older girl made her way to the wardrobe, and began to pick out Alizia¡¯s outfit, while the younger girl huffed and puffed her way to her sister¡¯s bed and threw back the blankets. ¡°Wake up, lazy. You missed Samael.¡±

    Alizia bolted up with a gasp, long blonde hair a tangled nest on the side of her head. Adelin laughed at that. Clair held up a light blue and white dress from the wardrobe for Megan''s approval.

    ¡°You don¡¯t mean it!¡± Alizia said. Then she turned on Clair. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you let me sleep through it!¡±

    The governess was holding up a laughed. "I never let you sleep through anything. Lady Alizia wakes when she wishes to and not a moment before. Now get up, come see what I''ve picked out for you."

    "Besides," Adelin chimed in. "We all missed him. Uncle Sam left early this morning, before anyone was awake."

    Alizia let out a big sigh in relief. "Lords Above, don''t do that to me. I suppose that''s just like uncle Sam."

    It was. In all her time at Zaksburg Megan might not have heard a hundred words from Samael Aldrimar. He''d never looked more uncomfortable than being the center of attention at last year''s feast celebrating his admittance to the Unarium.

    "We all wish your uncle had been blessed with more social graces," said Clair. "And if it makes you feel any better, your brother slept through it too."

    "Did he?" Alizia laughed as she shed her bedsheets. "If he''s not careful they''ll be calling him Lord Lazy before long. Oh my."

    Alizia stopped, nodding when she saw the outfit Clair had picked out for her. The white and blue dress had no sleeves, leaving most of the shoulders exposed. The body of the dress was blue, with bands of pristine white at the seams, and the skirts would come down to just below her knees. There was also a perfectly crimson sash with the roaring white lion of Aldrimar to wrap around her waist.

    But the Lady Alizia sighed when she looked over herself in the silvered glass mirror.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± asked Megan as she tried to tease out the knot in Alizia¡¯s hair.

    ¡°Nothing, it¡¯s wonderful. I just wish there was some prince around to see me wear it. Ow!¡±

    ¡°If you didn¡¯t want it to hurt you shouldn¡¯t roll so much in your sleep,¡± Megan scolded. They both laughed.

    Just then came a knock at the door. Adelin hopped up from the lounge where Megan had slept and pulled the door open. "You look nice today," said the voice on the other side.

    ¡°Come on in uncle,¡± Adelin said, stepping back to let Zak in.

    He, dressed as if he were going riding, looked around the room. The briefest smile flashed on his face when he noticed Clair, but he quickly averted his gaze. ¡°Have any of you seen Henric?¡± he asked. ¡°He wasn¡¯t in his room.¡±

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    ¡°These two just woke up,¡± said Adelin, bobbing her head towards the wardrobe. ¡°They haven¡¯t seen anything.¡±

    ¡°Well how about you then?¡± Zak asked, crouching to look his niece in the eye. ¡°Do you know where your brother is?¡±

    Adelin shrugged and turned away from him. ¡°Nope.¡± She plopped herself down on the bed, wrinkling the skirts of the nice dress Clair had somehow wrangled her into. ¡°Not if he¡¯s not in his rooms. That¡¯s where I thought he was.¡±

    "Shit," Zak swore. "I haven''t been able to find him anywhere in the castle." He locked eyes with Clair for a long moment. "Keep an eye on them."

    Clair waved him away. "Of course. You worry too much."

    Half a grin snuck in around the edges of his mouth, bristling his short growth of beard. "I''ll leave you ladies to it then. If you see Henric, let me know?"

    He closed the door behind him, and for a moment the room was silent.

    "So girls, what do you wish to do today?" Asked Clair.

    "I want to go to the gardens," said Alizia. Megan smiled and Clair nodded at the suggestion.

    "A wonderful idea!" Said Clair.

    But Adelin groaned. "I hate the gardens..."

    It was well into the afternoon before they finally to a streamside lawn in the city¡¯s gardens. The whole ordeal - between Adelin¡¯s protest, Alizia¡¯s constant need to stop and look at everything that caught her eye, and the guardsmens¡¯ insistence on securing every place they wanted to go before the girls went there - made Megan wish for the days at the capitol where she had been nobody and could move about as she wished.

    ¡°I wish your mother hadn¡¯t sent us so many guards along with us,¡± said Megan. ¡°We would have made much better time without them.¡±

    Alizia made a noncommittal shrug as they walked. ¡°I don¡¯t mind them, and they make mother feel better. I can hardly blame her for insisting.¡±

    ¡°I can,¡± said Adelin. She shot a look at her sister. ¡°But the guards weren¡¯t slowing us down half as much as Zia was.¡±

    Megan laughed, but Alizia took a swipe at the younger girl.

    ¡°Stop that,¡± said Clair sternly. The older girl almost had to shout to be heard from where she sat under a nearby tree, then turned back to her conversation with the sergeant of their guard who was sitting beside her.

    The five of them were alone on the large lawn, thanks to their guards blocking all the ways past the garden¡¯s large hedges.

    ¡°So what are we going to do now that we¡¯re all the way out here?¡± complained Adelin. ¡°We didn¡¯t bring any games or horses.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± said Alizia. ¡°But I brought this.¡± She began digging around in her satchel, and produced a book.

    ¡°A book?¡± Megan said. ¡°We came all the way out here to read?¡±

    But when Alizia pulled her hands away she revealed the very book that the Aldimar girls had tried to recruit Megan to steal from their brother. It had the same symbol on its cover that Henric had on the back of his hand, and the pages inside were old and yellowing. The letters on every page looked almost childish, and were clearly not written by a scribe. In fact, it was a journal.

    The three of them lost most of the afternoon reading stories of Zakaran, the first Aldrimar and his adventures with Willam the bastard, and of the conquest of Calais. Megan had always believed the stories of Zakaran were fiction. Nearly every noble family west of the Heart Sea claimed they were descended from some ogre-slayer or dragon-hunter or demi-god. She¡¯d never had any reason to think the Aldrimars were any different.

    Adelin turned the page on Zakaran¡¯s rather dry account of the building of the first fort at Zaksburg to a page titled ¡°To my Sons.¡±

    I am afraid my curses shall not die with me, and so to my sons I wish to prepare you for what may come for you. I leave for you here the words the Boatsman told me that cursed day long ago, should I ever need to return to that forsaken place. They haven¡¯t failed me yet.

    ¡°Muzum ala thebeth¡± are old words, to be spoken when one can feel the current tugging at his feet. In our language they mean ¡®I go now into Death¡¯.

    The girls, each in turn, looked up at the others when they¡¯d read that line.

    ¡°Do you think Henric really believes this? Did Father believe this?¡± Alizia asked.

    ¡°We should try it,¡± said Adelin.

    ¡°We can¡¯t¡± said Alizia. ¡°Clair would never let us get in the water, we might ruin our dresses.¡±

    ¡°Forget that,¡± said Adelin. ¡°We do what we want.¡±

    ¡°And Clair does what Mother wants. I, for one, don¡¯t want to spend another month stuck in my chambers.¡±

    ¡°Um,¡± said Megan. ¡°I have an idea.¡±

 Chapter 22

    ¡°You never told me,¡± said Sylban. ¡°What exactly was your plan if the denizen(Degreth) had still been here?¡±

    Did Sylban sound out of breath? At least that meant Henric¡¯s aim was getting better and the trapped soul had to make at least some effort to dodge. Henric took a deep breath, and threw another one at the floating spirit.

    ¡°Bind it and run,¡± said Henric, splashing in the knee-high river.

    Slyban laughed and Henric¡¯s throw struck him.

    ¡°You never said why that happens,¡± said Henric, turning to where Sylban reappeared at his side.

    The spirit rolled its pale dead eyes at him, as if it were obvious. ¡°You¡¯re throwing banishings at me. When they hit, where else am I to be banished to but the crystal in your pocket.¡±

    ¡°I guess that makes sense,¡± said Henric.

    ¡°Makes sense?¡± said Sylban. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t even have to explain this to you Lord Aldrimar.¡±

    Henric frowned. ¡°Why not? Who else is going to?¡±

    Sylban said nothing, struck by one of Henric¡¯s throws and resetting. Henric shivered, and realized how cold he was. He reached out to feel the beating of his own heart, but it was faint.

    ¡°How long have we been at this?¡± he asked.

    ¡°No idea,¡± the spirit shrugged. ¡°Are we done?¡±

    Henric nodded as he pulled Sylban¡¯s small crystal from his cloak.

    ¡°Good,¡± said Sylban. ¡°I never thought I¡¯d find something I hated more than being stuck in there.¡±

    In his mind, Henric drew a loop around the crystal, pulling it tight. He watched Sylban dissipate into a fog, and that fog faded into the rock in his hand. Then, he forced the seal on it, like trying to fit a cork back into a bottle.

    Henric had let it go too far. It was a long walk back to the shallows, and he could hardly feel his heartbeat, which made the trudge that much harder.

    How late is it? Henric wondered. Afternoon? In the shallows he could finally feel his heartbeat well enough begin the chant that would take him back into Life. ¡°Garama thu yalla.¡±

    Returning to Life from Death was like waking from a nightmare. Henric sucked in a sharp, sudden breath and his head snapped backwards. The sudden movement shifted him off his balance and he fell backwards into the stream. Again. As the water flowed past him, soaking him, he could see the sun above sinking towards the western horizon.

    Henric tried to stand, but his arms and legs felt cold and fought against him. He cursed himself for not asking where the heat came from. It took everything he had to pull himself from the stream onto the dry grass, and slowly. He closed his eyes, and tried to focus on the warmth slowly returning.

    ***

    Kerra was lying face down in the grass, wrapped up in her cloak like a blanket. Rolling onto her side, she saw Niles between blinks, sitting with his back against a tree, sword between his legs and eyes closed, snoring. He wore only his briefs, his other clothes spread out in the grass beside her to dry.

    She had no way of knowing exactly where they were, but if she¡¯d had to guess they were somewhere in the hills south of the city. There was forest in every direction and the only sounds she heard chirping squirrels and birdsong. If not for their clothing being spread out and most of their belongings missing, it was almost like last night and that thing in the sewers had been nothing more than a fading nightmare.

    ¡°Niles,¡± Kerra whispered, shaking him by the foot. ¡°Niles wake up.¡±

    His foot twitched away from her. ¡°I am,¡± he grumbled. ¡°Somebody had to keep guard.¡±

    Kerra grinned and began running her hands through her long black hair, picking out the blades of grass and bits of leaf. ¡°Then I suppose it¡¯s my turn to watch you sleep?¡±

    Niles shook his head. ¡°We should try to find the road,¡± he said, motioning to get up. But when he opened his eyes, he just seemed content to watch her work.

    A warm breeze blew through the budding leaves, and set the forest swaying. The afternoon was warm and the hills quiet. The two of them sat there together in the peace, waiting for the other to stand or move or break the silence.

    It was late into the spring, and leaf buds of green dotted the swaying skeletal branches of the forest. Another day or two and they¡¯d have been sitting in shade instead of sun. Kerra took a deep breath, letting the scents of springtime fill her. She could smell lavender, and something sweet she didn¡¯t recognize.

    ¡°This is nice,¡± Kerra said. ¡°It¡¯s like last night is a fading dream.¡±

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    ¡°It wasn¡¯t,¡± Niles said. ¡°I don¡¯t fight in my dreams.¡±

    Kerra stopped her brushing and put a hand on his leg. ¡°It¡¯s over now. You killed that thing... That monster.¡±

    Niles nodded. ¡°But it almost killed me Kerra. I¡¯ve had close calls before, but I¡¯ve never fought anything like that. I¡¯m surprised I¡¯m alive.¡±

    His eyes were focused on hers as he sat up and leaned close to her, his hand resting on hers. Niles leaned in, and kissed her.

    Normally she''d object to this sort of thing. But before she''d even made her mind up, her lips were kissing back. The last time they had been down this road before, and it had ended with a stupid mistake that nearly cost them their lives. They''d sworn, "Never again." And yet they had been inches from death last night even without romantic tensions in the way.

    Kerra placed her hand on his leg and pulled away. With her other hand she grabbed his shirt and handed it to him. "C''mon." She stood. They quickly grabbed up what things they had left. Most of what they''d owned had to be left behind in the city. With any luck, Milyen and his men hadn''t already ferreted out wherever Bart had hidden Kerra''s lute and Niles'' armor, but it would be best to keep out of the city for a while, to lay low. So when they came to the dirt track, she turned them away from the road back to the city, higher into the forested slopes south of Zaksburg.

    The budding forest was beautiful, and fragrant and quiet. She and Niles walked side by side down the dirt path for a ways, both doing their part not to disturb the forest''s quiet.

    Faintly, Kerra heard the sounds of trickling water and when they turned a long, sloping corner around a ridge, they came to a stream. At the sound of their arrival a horse brayed and stamped impotently at the ground, tied as he was to a tree.

    ¡°Niles, look,¡± Kerra said, pointing. ¡°There by the bank.¡±

    A young man lay face down in the dirt. When she knelt down to check for signs of life, she found him barely breathing, his skin cold to the touch in the evening shade. ¡°He¡¯s breathing,¡± she said.

    What the hell was this kid doing out here? Niles was staring at the boy.

    ¡°Do you know him?¡± Kerra asked leaning close, eyeing the smudge on the back of the young man¡¯s hand.

    Niles shook his head. ¡°Maybe.¡±

    ¡°We should make a fire,¡± said Kerra. ¡°Warm him up.¡±

    ***

    Henric awoke to the sounds and warmth of a crackling fire. He lay under the Big Sister hanging half full in the starry night sky. A beautiful woman with long dark hair stared at him from across the fire, wrapped up in a long dark cloak.

    ¡°You¡¯re awake,¡± she said, stirring from her perch on a fallen tree trunk.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Henric asked.

    The woman stepped carefully, almost silently past the flames and leaned in close to him. She looked ¡°I could ask the same question of a boy who wears a brand of Xerad on his arm."

    ¡°A what?¡± Henric asked, too tired to make sense of whatever the woman had said.

    She locked her clear blue eyes on his. ¡°Do you know what that marking on your wrist means?¡±

    Father had spent seven years teaching him what that mark meant.

    ¡°Of course I do,¡± Henric said. ¡°It¡¯s my family¡¯s seal. We¡¯ve worn it for six generations.¡±

    She narrowed her eyes at him. Under the power of her gaze, Henric felt the need to reach for his sword, but it had been taken from his belt, and he didn¡¯t want to break gazes with the woman for fear she might pull the knife from her cloak. Because there had to be something giving off the Scent. ¡°What are you doing out here in the woods by yourself then?¡±

    Henric carefully chose his next word. ¡°Hunting.¡±

    ¡°Hunting...?¡±

    ¡°A beast. A monster, really. It¡¯s been attacking travelers in these hills the past few weeks, leaving them for dead. Then it stopped. I saw it once, near here a few weeks back, and I hoped to find the beast¡¯s lair.¡±

    The woman looked up, somewhere behind Henric''s head.

    "What exactly are you talking about?" asked a man''s voice. At the sound of it Henric unthinkingly started towards the fire before shrinking back. Behind him stood a tall man, simply dressed with Henric¡¯s naked longsword hanging from his belt, glinting a reflection of the dancing flames, the man¡¯s own sheathed in place beside it. Henric tried to get his feet beneath him, but the woman pressed on his shoulders to keep him down.

    "Let me up," Henric shouted.

    "Answer him," the woman said with as much force as she held him with.

    "Now now," the man said. "Stay calm. You''re not in any danger. I don¡¯t think he¡¯s a... Whatever you think he is."

    ¡°A servant of Death,¡± she said.

    ¡°Yeah, that,¡± the man said, stepping over the fire to sit on a large stone rolled nearby. ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯s some ¡®servant of death¡¯. That looks like one of those clanmarks they wear around here. Lots of families have them in these parts.¡±

    Henric nodded, then stopped. She thinks I¡¯m a necromancer.

    The man pulled a loaf of bread from inside his pack, and offered it to Henric. "Eat. You were half dead when we found you and cold to the touch. Tell me, what kind of beast is this you were chasing after."

    "Thanks," Henric said after a bite. Until the bread was in his mouth he''d had no idea how hungry he was. He took a few more ravenous bites before his mouth was too full for anything but chewing. The longer he took, the more time he had make up something other than ¡®chasing down a malevolent dead spirit¡¯.

    The fair haired woman reached in and pulled the loaf from his grasp. "Don''t eat the whole thing, that''s all we have."

    "Shorry," Henric swallowed. "I didn''t realize..."

    "It''s perfectly alright boy," said the man. "Just tell us what you saw."

    "Thank you," Henric said again. ¡°I only saw flashes of it, no clear glimpses. It came upon me and my uncles when we were out hunting earlier in the year, and we hardly made it out with our lives. But the way it moved.¡± He shuddered. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t have moved that way... Like it didn¡¯t know how to use its parts correctly...¡±

    The woman¡¯s grip on his shoulder tightened. ¡°You have seen it! You probably brought it here.¡±

    The man stood and placed a hand on the woman¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I don¡¯t think he did.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a servant of Death Niles.¡± The way she said it sent shivers down his spine. She knew.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a necromancer,¡± Henric said.

    ¡°He¡¯s not a necromancer,¡± the man said over Henric. ¡°He¡¯s an Aldrimar.¡±

    Henric¡¯s heart stopped in his chest and a thousand questions raced through his mind. But before he could even decide which to ask first, the tense silence was broken, as if on cue, by something rustling through the brush in the woods just beyond the clearing edge. They all turned to look where the sound had come from. Next came the wave of Scent, the same familiar death-scent of the Degreth that haunted his dreams.

    ¡°My sword,¡± Henric said. ¡°Give me my sword.¡±

    The brush rustled again, and something emerged into the clearing. For a moment it stood tall like a man, but then it lurched forward, catching itself with the wrong arm turned backward and started into a three limbed lope directly at them.

 Chapter 23

    The moment dragged on even as the thing was closing in incredibly fast. Henric stared in disbelief, arm extended toward the raven-haired singer who held his sword. In the quiet of the twilight, it was almost as if the whole word had gone quiet in time to hear a lord beg, ¡°Please.¡±

    But the look in her eyes said that she would not.

    A fresh wave of nausea hit him as the heavy Scent of the rotting, shambling corpse overwhelmed him. Without his sword he was defenseless. He hadn¡¯t had nearly enough time to practice the Bindings. A thin line of radiant purple wound around the abomination¡¯s neck but it was too late and the monster too strong. His binding broke apart in a thin whisp of violet smoke. Even if he could manage to seal the loop, the undead abomination was too close, it would kill him before he could speak the binding.

    In a flash of glinting moonlight, DuErden stepped in front of Henric and slashed out with his blade. The raising backhanded cut stuck in the dead man¡¯s ribs, letting it wrap around the sword, gnashing and clawing for the knight. Henric felt as though he should have recognized the corpse, but he couldn¡¯t have said from where.

    ¡°Kerra!¡± Niles shouted, voice like a whip. ¡°Unless you¡¯ve been taking lessons, give him the sword!¡±

    Unable to fully set aside her problem with him even when ordered, the woman shoved Henric¡¯s sword forcefully into his chest. He felt an immediate wave of relief as his hand wrapped around its hilt, drawing it from its scabbard. Now, at least, he could fight.

    Beside him, Niles had shoved the thing back, kicking it off his sword and sending it stumbling back several feet, thick black blood dripping out from the wound like a sludge that matted down the grass along the riverbank.

    Henric could hardly stand the Scent of it, but still he rushed in to cut at the monster¡¯s leg. He chopped his sword¡¯s edge into the dead man¡¯s knee, feeling the sharp steel sink into the flesh and slip into the gap between the bones. His blade, too, got stuck in a twist of the bone, and Henric was forced to rip it out, the joint only half severed.

    Unfortunately the two tugs it took was enough time for the dead thing to bring its head around and gnash into the arm of Henric¡¯s padded shirt. It clawed at him with its one good arm, and thrashed the dislocated, limp arm at him as if it didn¡¯t know the limb was dislocated.

    ¡°Boy,¡± it hissed, its voice little more than a whisper on the wind.

    There was a sickening slick sound as Niles drove his sword into the corpse¡¯s guts, using it as a handle to rip the monster off of Henric.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you an Aldrimar?¡± Niles roared as he shoved the monster back and freed his blade. He fought like Zak did. ¡°This thing is dead. Kill it!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that simple,¡± Henric said as he closed the gap with the monster in step with Niles. The knight held his sword in a piercing pose and Henric followed suit. ¡°I¡¯ve never actually fought a dead thing before.¡±

    ¡°No better time to start,¡± Niles grunted as he thrust the point of his sword into the dead man¡¯s ribs, skewering him. Henric did the same. ¡°Otherwise we¡¯re just as dead as he is.¡±

    The corpse wheezed as it tried and failed to push air through the thrice punctured lungs, thrashing at Henric despite the knight who was cutting apart its stolen body. Where had it even found a corpse it could wear? House Aldrimar worked closely with their priests to ensure every soul within their domains bore a Mark by their first birthday. There were merchants, travelers, mercenaries and thieves, he supposed. Even assassins.

    The assassin! They had never found the strange Easterner¡¯s body after Henric had knocked him from the tower. It had been assumed to be stuck somewhere in the current or swept out to sea by now. But he knew now what had happened. He had been right all along. The degreth, the Dead thing that had attacked during his Initiation all those weeks ago had crossed into Life.

    That should have terrified him, yet it felt like a fire had been lit inside him. Despite every voice around him saying otherwise, Henric¡¯s own instincts had been right. He had spent the past weeks questioning himself, thinking the strain of so much new responsibility was breaking him. Maybe it still was. Fear had left him, and in its place a righteous anger, vindication. Before him was the solution to all his problems.

    He just had to take hold of it.

    Drawing a line of violet light around the dead assassin¡¯s neck, Henric poured in the heat from the bonfire inside him. The band was sealed with licks of violet flame that made the degreth screech from inside the man¡¯s skin, its one intact hand clawing at its neck even as its fingers burnt, adding another unpleasant layer to the evening¡¯s aroma.

    ¡°Whoa!¡± Niles said, eyes wide and fixated on the flaming ring of light. So he could see it too? The woman, Kerra, must have been able to as well, as he heard her hiss a word behind them.

    Henric didn¡¯t have time to worry about whatever her problem was. Trying to hold the binding in his mind felt like trying to pin down a raging bear. He imagined.

    ¡°Rhezara ahmen thar!¡± he shouted, each syllable searing his lungs like hot smoke.

    The creature inside the dead man shrieked, the body falling limp to the ground. Henric hadn¡¯t expected it to give up the fight so easily, but he was grateful for it. His breaths were heavy, his head light, and he was sure he was seeing two sets of stars. Something tugged at his feet, urging him toward the spirit he had bound. The Scent of it was so strong he could practically see the deep purple fog of it around this wretched thing. Part of him wanted to taste it, to draw in this monster¡¯s power and command it for himself.

    A hand clasped upon his wrist just as it reached for the loop around the monster¡¯s neck. Henric snapped it back, crying out as searing pain rushed up his arm from Kerra¡¯s hand glowing with pure white light. Did this woman know the Miracles?

    ¡°Elrima,¡± she hissed, eyes narrow with rage. ¡°I will not let you feed. Niles, kill him now!¡±

    ¡°Unhand me!¡± Henric¡¯s order sounded more like a plea. ¡°You don¡¯t understand-¡±

    On the ground, the corpse began to let out a rhythmic grunting sound that Henric only realized was a laugh when he saw how thin the binding around the degreth¡¯s neck had become, distracted by Kerra¡¯s intercession. Henric felt the loop of light snap the instant before the corpse launched itself in a three-limbed gait into the night.

    The stranger let go of his hand, the burning pain subsiding, and leaving nothing more than a print on his wrist that was already beginning to fade. She watched the thing go, her face long and eyes wide in horror at what she¡¯d done.

    ¡°I-¡± she started, but couldn¡¯t seem to know what word she meant to say next.

    A strong arm slipped behind his back and under his shoulder.

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°On your feet,¡± Niles grunted as he lifted Henric. Though he was addressing Henric, his eyes were hard and fixed on his companion. ¡°We still have a monster to kill.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Henric agreed, wondering where the thing was going.

    ***

    Megan regretted her decision the instant her feet splashed into the cold flowing water and the stink of sewage hit her. It was too late though, as Alizia and Adelin had already started down stream.

    "C''mon Megan," said Adelin. "We can''t just stay by the entrance, they''ll find us."

    "But I can''t see," Megan said.

    "We have a lightstone," said Alizia. "I just don''t want to light it until we''re further in."

    And so they walked. It seemed like half an hour passed before the older Aldrimar girl pulled the lightstone from her pack and spoke the word to light it. The water was well above her ankles now, and soaking into her skirt.

    Their tunnel was cramped and low, and in the light they could see moss and mildew clinging to the walls. Next the book came out, and Megan opened it to the page, almost a third of the way in, where Zakaran Aldrimar had written the words that would lead them into Death.

    "Muzum ala thebeth," they said, again and again until it became a chant. But nothing happened. Megan didn''t feel anything changing, the water still flowed, cold against her feet. Then she heard a plunk, and Megan opened her eyes.

    The lightstone had slipped from Alizia''s hand and was being swept away by the current. In the quickly darkening tunnel, Megan realized that neither of her friends were awake. She shook them, calling out "Alizia, Adelin!¡° but nothing stirred them.

    And in less than a moment, the lightstone was swept beyond some unseen corner ahead, and Megan was left in total darkness, her friends unconscious, and the dawning realization that this had been a huge mistake.

    ***

    Nothing had gone right for Kerra since coming to Zaksburg. Even the ancient stories, told to her at mother¡¯s breast and father¡¯s knee by fire and star, were failing her. All across Dvor the people had forgotten the ancient ways and the ancient tongue, but they still remembered how to Mark themselves and to treat their dead to protect themselves from elrima. The Lords of Dvor had made a Compact to protect against the very fiends that ruled here.

    And Niles didn¡¯t seem to be batting an eye. If anything, he seemed to expect this when he should have been appalled. Niles DuErden was not a man who knowingly chose the side of evil. That fact alone, stayed her hand and her tongue as she followed two steps behind her friend and the boy, Henric.

    Kerra grew more anxious with every agonizingly familiar step, retreading the very path she and Niles and just taken fleeing from the city only hours before. Each drop of tar-black blood along the way renewing her shame at letting this monster escape. Once again trusting her instincts had set her back.

    They walked in the shadow of Zaksburg¡¯s hill stretching all the way to the far shore of the river in the moonlight. She knew where they were going even before they came to the tunnel opening, a slow stream of water trickling out across the silty shore into the river.

    ¡°In here,¡± the boy, Henric, said. ¡°I can smell it.¡±

    Kerra resisted the urge to curse at him. Elrima were predators who fed upon Death, one should not be so brazen about its inhuman abilities. But at the same time, she couldn¡¯t deny the sense of unease, of dark power that emanated from the tunnel, twisting her stomach with more pain that she¡¯d ever felt before.

    She bent and heaved into the sand, turning away from Niles and the necromancer.

    ¡°Kerra?¡± Niles asked, the edge on his words the past half hour dulled with concern.

    She waved her arm at him as she heaved again. ¡°I¡¯m fine!¡±

    Niles stepped over and crouched carefully beside her. The look on his face said ¡°I¡¯m mad, but I still care about you.¡± It was one they¡¯d kept passing back and forth over the years.

    ¡°Maybe you should stay here?¡± Niles suggested.

    Behind him, Henric nodded. ¡°Good idea. Call for help. My uncle. Someone needs to know where we are.¡±

    Kerra shot the arrogant boy a glare but Niles nodded.

    ¡°Good thinking,¡± he said as he stood. ¡°We¡¯ll get the monster, you get help.¡±

    Niles had that cocky smirk again, but she knew it was for her benefit, the concern behind his eyes too real. He finally had a monster to fight and she knew it terrified him. But he was Niles DuEdren.

    Kerra nodded and said, ¡°I will.¡±

    Niles returned her nod with a salute, and he and the necromancer turned to crouch into the open tunnel. She heard a thud and a string of curses from her friend, followed by a word she hadn¡¯t expected.

    Light erupted in Henric¡¯s hand as he spoke the word ¡°Ahye¡±, casting himself and Niles in silhouette against the darkness of the tunnel. Kerra was shocked at first until she remembered the priests in this region sometimes carved a Word into something and called it a Miracle. She watched the blackness swallow them even despite Aldrimar¡¯s light, leaving her alone in the cool spring night.

    It didn¡¯t take long for her shouting to draw attention, first from a nearby fisherman, and then from one of Zaksburg¡¯s black and crimson-clad watchmen.

    ¡°What is the meaning of all this shouting?¡± the watchman said as he strolled up as though she were some vendor in a market. Despite having been shouting for twenty minutes her situation apparently didn¡¯t call for much urgency.

    ¡°Your duke is in trouble!¡± Kerra said. She hadn¡¯t, until this moment, realized how ridiculous this might sound. ¡°He and Niles DuErden chased a murderer into this tunnel and need backup from the city watch.¡±

    The guard gave her a skeptical look. ¡°The duke and DuErden, eh? Now that¡¯d be a sight to see. But I assure you miss, the duke is safe and snug up in his castle where he¡¯s supposed to be.¡±

    Kerra felt her face pucker at the man¡¯s ignorance.

    ¡°You should check on that,¡± she challenged. She held up a hand flat to her chin. ¡°Because I just saw him. About yea high, sandy blonde hair, green eyes? A bruise-colored Mark on the back of his hand?¡±

    That raised the idiot¡¯s eyebrow.

    ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± the guard said. ¡°I¡¯ll be right back.¡±

    ¡°Every moment you waste puts your duke even more at risk,¡± she urged.

    The man gave her a thin smile and a curt nod and said, ¡°Then I¡¯d better hurry.¡±

    He strolled away along the river, whistling a casual tune before coming to a set of stairs and climbing up to Zaksburg¡¯s wall where Kerra now noticed several other watchmen were waiting. The whole lot of them returned to her faster than she would have believed. Among them was a tall man with sandy blonde hair and a long black cloak.

    ¡°You saw my nephew?¡± the man asked her without introduction, but she had enough to pick out that his was the Aldrimar lordling who¡¯d once been Niles¡¯ squire. Even their name was sacreligious.

    ¡°DuErden is with him, in the tunnels,¡± she answered. Aldrimar grinned at the name.

    ¡°The Gods Above for that,¡± he said. ¡°What about my nieces? Where are they?¡±

    Kerra narrowed her eyebrows at him then shook her head.

    ¡°I saw only Henric,¡± she said. ¡°But Aldrimar you must know something. The murderer they chase is already dead.¡±

    His eyes went wide as he made sense of her words.

    ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡± Aldrimar asked.

    ¡°I saw it with my own eyes.¡±

    Aldrimar swore and spun, addressing the dozen or so men assembled on the beach.

    ¡°My nephew is indeed inside,¡± he said, his voice loud and clear. ¡°We are need to find him. This is now our top priority.¡±

    The guards exchanged nervous glances.

    ¡°What about the girls?¡± one of them asked.

    Aldrimar¡¯s face was grim. ¡°I pray I¡¯m wrong, but I have a feeling we¡¯ll find them where we find the duke. Tem, bring miss Kerra here up to the castle.¡± Then he turned back to her. ¡°I do hope you¡¯ll accept our hospitality.¡±

    She nodded and he whistled. The men formed into orderly ranks, lighting torches as they filed into the tunnels, leaving her alone with the same watchman who hadn¡¯t believed her story.

    ¡°Wait,¡± the watchman said, squinting at her. ¡°Did he say Kerra?¡±

    She favored him with a smirk. Few knew her as a thief and smuggler, but folk all over knew Kerra the singer. It was a handy reputation that came with some privileges.

    ¡°Right this way madam!¡± he said, offering up an arm even as he bent low enough to kiss the silty soil. ¡°I hope you¡¯ll forgive my rudeness before.¡±

    It was like he thought she was nobility. Kerra considered for a moment if there was anything left she could do here. But no, even thinking of setting foot in that tunnel threatened to upend her stomach once again. She brushed past the man with a laugh.

    ¡°I expect a good room once we reach the castle,¡± Kerra said in her best imitation of a princess, the man snapping up and following after her. ¡°That will be a start.¡±

 Chapter 24

    Nothing in the past few days made sense. For the second time in a day¡¯s span, Niles was soaking wet in the waterways beneath Zaksburg. Only this time, he had Lord Aldrimar himself for company. That might have been a comfort if Aldrimar wasn¡¯t a fourteen year old boy whose voice still cracked.

    What I wouldn¡¯t give to have his uncle here.

    But then he remembered Zak at that age. Niles might have been a year or two older as the two of them fought their way through King Gareth¡¯s men. He remembered Zak fighting with a fierceness unlike anything he¡¯d ever seen, until that thing.

    Were it not for Aldrimar¡¯s lightstone, they¡¯d have been worse off than he and Kerra had been, heading in instead of trying to get out.

    ¡°Where¡¯d you get that,¡± Niles asked.

    ¡°My uncle made it,¡± said Henric.

    ¡°Your uncle huh?¡± Niles chuckled to himself. Funny things you learn in sewers, he''d never have suspect Zak capable of Miracles.

    ¡°I watched you fight,¡± said Henric. ¡°You¡¯re good. Damn good.¡±

    Their boots splashed in the water as they ran after the sounds of that thing. At the very least, the kid seemed to know where he was going.

    ¡°I suppose you did,¡± Niles said. ¡°Since I¡¯m not sure I¡¯ll ever see the sun again, I¡¯ll admit I didn¡¯t think twice on running out on the fight with your uncle.¡±

    ¡°He is fearsome,¡± Henric said.

    They came around a long bend to a junction where one tunnel sloped steeply upwards, and the sound of the creature¡¯s shuffling echoed down. The two of them met glances, and wordlessly began their climb.

    When they finally reached the top, Niles asked, ¡°What is this thing anyway? How can it be walking around when I¡¯ve killed it?¡±

    Henric stopped. ¡°I¡¯m not sure, exactly. I believe it¡¯s called a degreth. But it¡¯s wearing the body of an assassin I think was hired with Azrin gold. I never had the chance to find out before I knocked him from the top of our east tower.¡±

    Niles grinned. ¡°Not many men can say they¡¯ve both killed the same foe and not be arguing about it.¡±

    ¡°Not many men can say their fallen foes come back to finish the job,¡± said Henric flatly.

    A sound cut through the echoes where before had only been the sound of running water over stone, and the sound of their exchange, a lonely plea of ¡®help¡¯.

    Aldrimar took off into a sprint, and Niles was forced to chase after the light again. ¡°Slow down,¡± he called after the young duke, but it went unheeded.

    The thing, the degreth¡¯s sounds were getting louder, closer, though it still echoed around corners ahead of them. It sounded closer and closer until it began to slip away, but each time the interval was shorter, they were gaining on it. But so too did the crying grow louder.

    "What is that?" Niles asked.

    "I''m not sure," Henric said. "It could be the thing''s necromancer."

    Niles remembered an old monk talking about some lordling that made away from the Unarium with an old book on the black art.

    "I thought you were the necromancer," Niles said.

    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    Henric winced. "You think I did that? That I made that thing?"

    "I think maybe it''s your fault it''s here."

    "Oh, you might be right about that."

    But Henric left him no time to follow up, only to follow. They were close now, but the tunnels here twisted and wrapped around themselves like a whipping serpent.

    Then the crying stopped. For a second there was only the sound of their labored breathing and the running water, and then came the scream.

    ***

    Henric ran. He pushed himself harder than he ever had before. Towards the screaming and the gurgling and the overwhelming stench of Death.

    He turned the corner on a silhouette looming in the tunnel, and behind were three shapes, two that just laid still in the water, and a third, the screamer, incapable of stillness. The degreth paid Henric no attention as it closed fast towards the girl, for in the light from the stone it was clear that she had long, dark, hair and was wearing what might have been a fine dress.

    Megan!?

    It took everything he had to close the gap before the degreth did, pulling his blade free as he ran.

    The degreth raised its arm to strike. Henric thrust his sword out, and it slid into flesh.

    Megan''s screaming and the degreth''s gurgling howl mixed to a terrible counterpoint. Henric began drawing the binding circle up around the creature.

    "Megan, get out of here," Henric said through gritted teeth.

    "Henric?" she asked. "I... I can''t, not without Zia and Adelin."

    Henric swore. Before he could utter the seal, the degreth whipped its arm around like a flail, knocking Henric back. He fell into the water, and felt his head smack against the stone. Pain and Deathscent descended on him, but he pushed it away.

    A strong hand gripped him below his shoulder and pulled him to his feet.

    "Stand up," said Niles.

    "Those are my sisters," Henric motioned to where Megan sat with them unconscious.

    The two of them nodded to each other, and sprung into action.

    "Hey, ugly!" Niles shouted, charging at the beast. "Remember me?"

    Henric slipped past as Niles met the thing with a hail of blows and crouched down by Megan''s side. With the light from his stone, he could it was obvious the other two were his sisters.

    "Megan are you alright?" Henric asked.

    She swallowed, and nodded nervously.

    "What are you doing here?" But then he saw the book she held against her chest. Though he couldn''t see the cover, he''d recognize Zakaran''s journal anywhere. "You didn''t..."

    Megan sobbed, "We didn''t think anything would really happen... but, Henric, they''re dead."

    He shook his head. "Not dead, not yet. Keep them safe, and don''t move them!"

    Niles had led the creature backwards the way they''d come, almost out of Henric''s light. But he could still see the degreth''s back, and began to draw the binding up around it once again.

    He could see the band of light looping around the thing, restricting it. Its motions became more restrained, and it struggled to even move to block any of Niles'' blows. Henric poured everything he had into it, all of his pain and rage and fear and wrapped it around the creature until it couldn''t move its stolen limbs. Yes, it was time for the seal.

    "Who''s down here?" A voice called out.

    Henric turned and behind him an orange torch light flickered against the wall and water. Two men in chainmail clinked into view at the long end of the tunnel behind them, one pointed down the hall, directly at him.

    The binding broke with his concentration. The degreth let out a high, horrible squeal and launched itself towards Henric.

    Unthinking, he dodged out of the way, and watched as the creature went straight for the watchmen. ¡°Get out of here!¡± Henric shouted. ¡°Henric Aldrimar commands you.¡±

    ¡°My l-¡±

    The watchman never would know what killed him, as the degreth whipped it¡¯s limp arm into his skull. Henric wasn¡¯t sure if the crack he heard was from the thing¡¯s arm or the man¡¯s neck.

    ¡°What the-¡± the other watchman suffered a similar fate. The degreth lifted them up, and bled them, drinking it in.

    The sight of it, and the Stench of it concentrated in these damned waterways felt like it was going to rip Henric¡¯s head right open by the nose. Like he had a thousand times before, he fell back to the old breathing excercise his father had taught him to help keep a clear head. But the deep breaths only made it worse. Suddenly the light coming from the stone in his left hand was too bright, and the light from it hurt to see, and so he handed it to Megan and looked away.

    But he could still smell it on his hands, he could almost see the Stench it had left, floating off his hands. Not like Death, but not like Life either. Then he looked towards the degreth.

    It was bathed in light, bright hot Death that hurt worse than the lightstone to look on. As he winced away he saw that his sisters too were glowing brightly, but Niles and Megan. But neither of them was dying or in Death.

    All the while Henric kept breathing deep. And then he knew what to do.

    Henric turned back to Megan, ¡°Don¡¯t move them. Niles, keep them safe, and don¡¯t let anyone move them.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t hard to feel the current¡¯s icy flow tugging at his feet as he charged the feeding degreth. Nor was it hard to grab onto the thing around it¡¯s torso, completing the binding as his arms touched across its broad midsection.

    All the while, Henric kept breathing deep.

    ¡°Muzum ala thebeth.¡±

 Chapter 25

    ¡°What just happened?¡± the man standing beside her asked.

    Megan said nothing. She didn¡¯t know, nothing made sense since she¡¯d come down here. But she did know she was going to hold on to Henric¡¯s lightstone until he woke up.

    ¡°What did he say, right before they both collapsed?¡± the man Henric had called Niles asked again.

    She knew the answer to this one. ¡°Muzum ala thebeth. It¡¯s the same thing they said just before they collapsed.¡±

    ¡°All three of them huh?¡± Niles said. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you?¡±

    Megan shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Megan really wish he¡¯d stop asking questions.

    ¡°Erit! Ven?¡± a voice called down the tunnel. Another torch flickered against the wall ahead.

    ¡°You know, a day ago I was running away from torches on these walls,¡± Niles said. ¡°Now I¡¯m glad to see them.¡± He stepped forward and called out ¡°Ho! Watchmen! This way.¡±

    They came to the pile of bodies where Henric, the two watchmen, and that thing lay blocking the water¡¯s flow.

    ¡°Lord Aldrimar!¡± one called out and knelt down, checking Henric.

    The other turned, and Niles waved at him. ¡°His sisters are here, and their friend.¡±

    ¡°And who are you?¡± the watchmen said, eyeing Niles skeptically.

    ¡°DuErden,¡± said Niles.

    The watchman¡¯s jaw almost dropped.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have time to stand around, go get their uncle!¡±

    And the guard did. ¡°Sir Zakaran! Sir Zakaran! We¡¯ve found your nieces, and the duke is here too!¡± He turned back and ran down the tunnel, shouting the whole way. Megan let out a perverse chuckle at how strange that sounded.

    ¡°You think he¡¯s ever met Zak?¡± Niles said, almost conspiratorially, and it brought another laugh up out of her.

    ¡°I know he hasn¡¯t,¡± said Megan. ¡°But we shouldn¡¯t joke, not right now.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± Niles asked. ¡°There¡¯s nothing else we can do but wait.¡±

    ¡°The miss Megan is right,¡± said the watchman. ¡°This is no time for levity, the duke and his sisters cannot be woken in a place like this.¡± He gestured all around himself. Then he bent low and put his arm beneath Henric¡¯s legs ¡°We need to get them out of here.¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Megan and Niles shouted at once.

    ¡°Lord Henric was very specific that they not be moved,¡± Megan said.

    ¡°Nonsense,¡± the watchman said. ¡°They¡¯re not safe here.¡±

    Faster than Megan would have believed, Niles was at the man, sword at this throat. ¡°Your duke¡¯s instructions were very clear. Do not move him, or his sisters. I will not allow it unless his uncle orders otherwise.¡±

    Three more watchmen came around the corner. ¡°Sir Zakar-¡± one was saying to the others, but stopped at the scene and his hand flew to the blade at his belt.

    ¡°What in the damn- Why are you stopped?¡± Zak asked as he shoved his way through the watchmen. ¡°Niles, what is going on?¡±

    ¡°One of your men is trying to move your nephew,¡± Niles said. ¡°He told us not to move him, or either of the girls. Quite sternly. Didn¡¯t he girl?¡±

    Megan nodded.

    ¡°Good,¡± Zak said. ¡°That was smart of him. Don¡¯t move me either. Your friend told me a bit about how you met my nephew in the woods and that thing you fought. He¡¯s going to need help.¡±

    ¡°Zak,¡± Megan asked. ¡°What is going on? What was that thing? How could I kill it, and it still be up walking around?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a Dead thing Megan, like from the stories,¡± Zak said.

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    ¡°So there¡¯s a necromancer?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Zak said. ¡°I don¡¯t have time to explain, I¡¯m sorry. They need my help.¡± He drew his sword from his belt, closed his eyes, and said the words before collapsing.

    ***

    Henric had still not grown used to the stillness of the River. Though water moved at his feet, the fog did not. He had already wasted a Vade into the fog for nothing, almost no disturbance at all.

    Accompanying the stillness was silence. Thick and heavy like the fog, even the splashes of his own footsteps sounded soft and far away, hanging dead in the air without even the faintest echo.

    But this time the still and the silence were not accompanied by the cold. Death''s chill was notably absent, and Henric felt warm in spite of the icy water washing past his feet. It came in waves, pulsing like a heartbeat.

    "Addie! Zia?" Henric called out, but even that still and heavy in the air. And there was no echo. He had thought he¡¯d heard them when he first crossed over, but he had been too focused on the degreth to chase after them.

    Then something moved in the fog, and Henric turned toward it, reaching for his sword but coming up empty. Of course.

    The degreth leapt out of the fog at him, knocking Henric off his feet. Its shifting, shapeless maw came for Henric¡¯s neck, but a reflexive punch knocked it back. Henric wasted no time, and began to form the binding around the monster.

    ¡°Where are my sisters?¡± Henric asked.

    It thrashed against his binding and quickly broke free. ¡°Give it up, foolish boy. I will have you, and then both of them too.¡±

    Henric tried again, this time focusing all of his energy, and his buzzing warmth into it as well. Even as he poured and poured, he still did not feel the chill of Death. As the degreth thrashed against the white band that was forming around its midsection, it let out its most horrible shriek yet, worse even than those it made with the assassin¡¯s rotting lungs. The circle completed, and now all Henric had to do was hold it.

    The nightmare lashed again at the circle, but shied away just before it touched, and decided to scream again instead.

    ¡°Stop it,¡± Henric said. ¡°I have you now.¡±

    It drew back and looked him over. ¡°For how long, I wonder?¡±

    ¡°As long as it takes,¡± Henric said. ¡°I won¡¯t be letting you go. You¡¯ve caused me and mine enough trouble.¡±

    ¡°Such certainty.¡±

    But Henric was certain. He turned the flow of heat far down to a trickle, and still the degreth shied away from the binding. Time was not his worry. Instead, Henric thought back to Zakaran¡¯s journal and what it said about a banishing.

    A banishing, like Sam¡¯s vades,could force a thing back, possibly even back beyond the waterfall at the river¡¯s end, but then there would be nothing to stop it from climbing up again Except luck.

    What he really needed, was to kill this thing.

    Zakaran had always talked about cutting his monsters apart with his sword, but Henric¡¯s own hadn¡¯t crossed over with him. One of these days he was going to figure out why that was. As it stood, the best he could do was hold it there. If only...

    Something splashed behind him. Henric turned as much as he could without breaking concentration on the monster, and it wriggled against him.

    ¡°Zak?¡± Henric was surprised to see his uncle, sword in hand.

    ¡°Henric! Praise Vara you¡¯-¡± He stopped when he saw the degreth thrashing in the shallows against Henric¡¯s binding. ¡°How? Where are your sisters?¡±

    ¡°I... don¡¯t... know,¡± Henric grunted through the strain of holding down the degreth. He held out an arm and said, ¡°But they¡¯re out there, I can feel them. Find them. Leave the sword.¡±

    Zak looked at the blade in his hand and then back at Henric. ¡°Where¡¯s yours?¡±

    ¡°It didn¡¯t cross over.¡±

    The sword changed hands, and it felt right. It gave off a surprising warmth in his hand, but that didn¡¯t surprise him at all. Surprisingly familiar, as if he¡¯d fought with it a hundred times. But it was Zak¡¯s sword.

    And it had been Father¡¯s sword.

    Henric swung, cutting away at the degreth, making a shriek out. ¡°What are you still doing here? Go.¡±

    Zak did. Henric heard him splashing away into the fog, calling out for his sisters. What in Gara¡¯s name did those girls think they was doing down here. Didn¡¯t they understand how dangerous it was? How could they? They¡¯d never told the girls anything about Death or the Book. Now they were here, unready, and they might they might be stuck here forever.

    He wrapped his binding tighter, and cut across the degreth¡¯s chest. Its scream almost echoed. ¡°What were you going to do to them?¡±

    It grunted a low, beastly grunt. ¡°Eat one and inhabit the other.¡±

    Henric cut again. ¡°What then?¡± It only cried out in pain, so he cut it again. ¡°What were you going to do then? You might as well tell me. It¡¯s going to be your last chance.¡±

    ¡°Find.. god,¡± the creature spat out.

    ¡°God?¡± Henric laughed. The creature had practically stopped fighting against the bond, but Henric drew it tighter still. ¡°And what would you tell this god of yours?¡±

    ¡°Nothing. Offer.. sacrifice.¡±

    ¡°Which would be?¡±

    ¡°You.¡±

    Henric was unprepared for the degreth¡¯s sudden thrash, and loosened the binding. It slipped free, but before it could slip away into the mist Henric brought his sword down on top of it.

    The momentum of the cut and creature conspired to cleave what Henric hadn¡¯t already cut away. A clean rend of the soul, not even a binding was necessary now. Already what was left of it was beginning to disintegrate into the icy water at his feet, swept away to Judgement.

    The cold hit him all at once, like stepping out into the cold winter from the warmth of a room with a fire lit. Henric shivered, and looked around. Where were Zak and the girls? If it weren¡¯t for the water¡¯s flow, he wouldn¡¯t even have been able to tell which direction Zak had run off. Deep breaths brought faint traces of his uncle and sisters ... downriver.

    Resting the blade on his shoulder, Henric carefully made his way, following the current deeper into Death. By the time the water was above his waist, he couldn¡¯t stop himself from shaking at the cold of it.

    ¡°Zak!¡± Henric called out. ¡°Adelin! Zia!?¡± There was no response but empty air.

    Wait. Henric concentrated and drew up every bit of heat he had to still the chattering of his teeth. Yes... Faintly, he could hear a the sound of something moving through the water behind him. And it was coming closer.

    Henric Aldrimar didn¡¯t know what he expected to come out of the fog, but it certainly wasn¡¯t a canoe.

    ¡°There you are,¡± said an old voice out of the fog.

 Chapter 26

    "Niles," Kerra whispered, careful to keep her voice down so that the Aldrimar guards that surrounded didn''t hear. "What are we still doing here?"

    But Niles was crouched down beside a young woman who seemed to be on the verge of hysterics. He looked up, "We''re waiting for them to come back." He nodded toward the four bodies that lay half submerged in the water. "Zak said they''d be back."

    "If what that girl said was true, and they''re in Death, they won''t be coming back."

    The guards turned and the girl began her crying again.

    Kerra sighed. Mother had told her stories of people who could cross over and walk with Souls, but she''d also told how dangerous the River of souls was, how even a clean soul was at risk as it drifted to its final end.

    "Don''t say that," Niles hissed. "If Zak says they''ll be fine, they will be."

    Zak Aldrimar didn''t seem half as impressive slumped in a heap on the ground as he had in his armor, nor did he live up to the legends Niles told. To Kerra, he looked just like any other noble second-born in too-fine linens and leathers. But Niles had never said anything about elrima.

    ¡°That¡¯s worries me more,¡± said Kerra. ¡°If they¡¯re coming back, I really don¡¯t want to be here. If you knew the things elrima can do, you¡¯d run too.¡± She circled around to face the guards. ¡°All of you.¡±

    The guards tried not to pay her any attention, and the girl only sobbed harder, clutching to that book and that glowing stone. It hummed a high et.

    ¡°Girl,¡± said Kerra. ¡°Let me see the book.¡±

    She shook her head, shaking even more of her long chestnut hair loose from its braid. Kerra bent to pull the book from her grasp. "Stop!¡° the girl said.

    They pulled back and forth, but stopped suddenly as one of the unconscious girls began to cough and flail. An errant swing of the arm knocked Kerra to the ground with a splash.

    One of the Aldrimar girls coughed herself awake while the other thrashed as if waking from a dream of falling. ¡°Alizia!¡± the girl¡¯s shout echoed through the waterways. Guards moved in to help the girls to their feet.

    Behind them, Zak sat up suddenly, sucking in breath.

    Kerra swore as pain shot up her spine and cold and wet soaked through her leathers.

    Zak stood and helped the his nieces to their feet. ¡°Are both of you alright?¡±

    The little golden haired girls nodded.

    ¡°Sir,¡± said one of the guardsmen. ¡°It is getting very late. We should be heading to the surface now.¡± For once the guards were talking sense. Kerra dreaded spending another minute in these forsaken tunnels. Nearly two nights had gone by without sight of the Moon, and she was beginning to feel it in her bones.

    ¡°What about Henric,¡± one of the girls asked. ¡°You said he¡¯d be awake when we got back.¡±

    The lord of Zaksburg was still slumped, sword in hand in the pile of corpses near the tunnels junction.

    ¡°He¡¯ll be alright,¡± said Zak, placing a hand on his niece¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m going to stay with him until he wakes.¡±

    ¡°That won¡¯t be long,¡± Kerra said. She could already hear the beat of his heart growing stronger.

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    Zak nodded. ¡°See, and Niles will go with you, to keep you safe.¡±

    And Niles, looking half the wild man in his torn tunic and two day¡¯s growth, sword hanging naked from his belt, was beaming. He finally had real, actual damsels to protect.

    Sir Aldrimar stood and leaned in close to Niles, but stared straight into Kerra¡¯s eyes. ¡°And don¡¯t think of leaving before my nephew and I return. I wouldn¡¯t have you spending another night sleeping in the dirt old friend.¡±

    Niles laughed and slapped his old friend on the back, but Kerra didn¡¯t share his excitement. She¡¯d heard the threat in Aldrimar¡¯s words. He was prepared to treat them like prisoners.

    As the guards were leading the girls up and out of the tunnel, their brother coughed himself awake. The suddenness of it startled one of the guards, and he stepped back into the other, almost causing a collapse. But the girls rushed past them to the young lord¡¯s side.

    ¡°Henric,¡± the brown haired girl said, lifting him so his back was against a wall. ¡°Henric?¡±

    ¡°Megan?¡± he muttered weakly. ¡°Good. You¡¯re safe.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m safe?¡± she said. ¡°What about you? What about that thing? Is it...¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s gone,¡± Henric said. ¡°I made sure of that. It didn¡¯t hurt you did it?¡±

    She shook her head.

    The guards, having finally sorted themselves, interrupted. ¡°Come, ladies, we must go.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Zak. ¡°Go on ahead, I¡¯ll help Henric up.¡±

    ¡°Just relax,¡± Niles said. He was stretched out on the plush sofa, freshly bathed and shaved, wearing a freshly tailored tunic while taking a healthy bite of a peach. ¡°And don¡¯t say I never take you anywhere nice.¡±

    Kerra rolled her eyes. While Niles was fully dressed, she still had to wrap herself in her cloak while she waited for her dress to be finished. And yes, it had to be a dress. At least that argument had been in Cirgi.

    ¡°Would to not dream,¡± Kerra said. Erazi always felt strange on the tongue after speaking another language, and it always took longer than she like before it started to make sense again.

    Niles laughed and took another bite of his peach. In this situation, some other men might have tried to peek under her cloak, while other might have insisted she take it off altogether, but not Niles. Given that it was long since past that he had seen her naked, even before then he was never anything but courteous.

    ¡°Really though,¡± he said. ¡°I have a plan.¡±

    He shot a glance at the door behind her, and to the guardsman they both knew was posted right outside it. Leaning in close, he continued in hushed tones.

    ¡°They don¡¯t know it yet, but the Aldrimars are going to help us get that dagger back from Milyen.¡±

    Kerra shook her head and felt for the purse of coins tucked into the pocket of her cloak. That impossible purse. She still didn¡¯t believe that they had escaped from Milyen¡¯s with their lives and the money, and had been counting her blessings that they might finally be able to afford passage to some more civilized part of the world. To that day she was still unsure how exactly Niles had convinced her to go west with him.

    ¡°We should just let that be done,¡± she said. ¡°Go east instead. We can see the singing towers of Alayos.¡±

    Niles pulled back, surprised. ¡°I thought you¡¯d be excited.¡±

    ¡°I am,¡± she said. ¡°We have the money. More than we thought we¡¯d get. We can go.¡±

    ¡°If that¡¯s what you want,¡± Niles smiled. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind seeing Sairetha.¡±

    ¡°Now there¡¯s an idea!¡± Kerra said. The City at the Center of the World was said to have the most magnificent theaters and an appreciation for the arts like no place else in the world. Even since she was a girl she¡¯d longed to see the city¡¯s towers ginting in sunset.

    Just then a knock came at the door and two handmaids stepped in carrying a stretch of green fabric between them. They presented a dress to her, gold and green like forest leaves in summertime, and pulled her behind a screen to dress her. Kerra was opposed to the whole process until they held up a silvered mirror and she could see her own reflection.

    ¡°Aldrimar¡¯s people do good work,¡± Niles said behind her. ¡°And they were quite right to put you in that dress.¡±

    Kerra had to agree. The old woman had certainly known how to make a dress look both modest and flattering, without being too restrictive. Unlike some of the other dresses she¡¯d had to wear, in this one at least did not feel like it was trapping her.

    She turned to face him, and he slipped his arm around behind her back and pulled her close, pressing his lips firmly against hers.

    When they finally broke apart, Niles only said, ¡°I felt like if I didn¡¯t kiss you just then, I was going to regret it.¡±

    Sometimes, Niles¡¯ timing was not so bad.

 Chapter 27

    Henric Aldrimar held up a small cryptex between his fingers for his guests to see. It was large enough to fit a small scroll, but small enough to strap to a post¡¯s leg, and it was capped with a seal of the Shield and Hammer of Sestil.

    ¡°I found this on the assassin¡¯s corpse,¡± said Henric, watching the face of Count Philip and the King¡¯s Eye. ¡°In a pocket of one of its robes. Take a look at what¡¯s inside.¡±

    Henric placed the thing into Count Philip¡¯s hand. Henric had already read the message enough times to know it rote, and seen King Gundemaro¡¯s signature at its bottom. Loosely translated, it read,

    House Aldrimar cannot be allowed to one day rise up and challenge the king like they did his late cousins. If the father can die, so can the son. The stars agree that his death means end of that troublesome brood. The rest of the Erazi will know that what happened to Aldrimar can happen to them. Do what must be done.

    In the name of Gundemaro, King of Sestil and Erazel in the fifth year of his reign.

    Philip handed the message to the King¡¯s Eye.

    ¡°What did you know of this?¡± Henric asked. Standing behind him, Zak adjusted his belt and rattled his sword in its sheath, just in case neither of them had caught his meaning.

    The King¡¯s Eye looked up at Henric with appal. ¡°I knew nothing!¡± he said. ¡°It is clear that this came from the central ministry. You know very well I send messages in, but I never hear back from the central ministry, young lord.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± Henric conceded. He had checked with the postmaster himself to confirm it. ¡°However the question was more for my cousin Philip. You spent time in the king¡¯s court this winter, perhaps you heard some rumblings of this?¡±

    ¡°N.. No!¡± Philip stuttered. He had taken the message back from the Eye. ¡°If the father can die, so can the son... They mean Gareth. You think I had something to do with it?¡±

    ¡°For the love you bore my father, why have you not supported my succession?¡± Henric asked.

    ¡°Because you are a child. With Arnult gone all of you now are untested children, and we need a strong Duke now more than ever. But conspire with the king to murder my cousin and his son?¡±

    ¡°It has happened before in our family¡¯s history,¡± Henric said. ¡°When Canron betrayed his uncle, your grandfather the second Henric, to the king?¡±

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    ¡°How could I forget? I would never do such a thing.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± Henric said. ¡°I believe you Philip. But I think you¡¯ll agree I¡¯ve been tested enough.¡± Henric shot him a knowing look. ¡°Will you support me?¡±

    Philip nodded. Henric turned to the Eye.

    ¡°I want you to write your ministry and tell them what this message said. Tell them what I know.¡±

    ***

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± said Niles. ¡°That monster was a dead assassin sent by the king to kill you and your father? And you and your family have fought dead things for generations?¡±

    Henric laughed. ¡°Almost. The assassin wasn¡¯t dead when the king sent him.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Niles said. ¡°That makes sense. So the while rising from the dead thing?¡±

    ¡°He was Unmarked,¡± said the woman to by Niles¡¯ side. Kerra shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Beautiful as she was in that dress, and for the dress Uya truly deserved compliment, she looked even more out of place for it.

    ¡°I do apologize for Uya, miss Kerra,¡± Henric said. ¡°I hope we haven¡¯t offended you. We simply did not want to show you a discourtesy.¡±

    ¡°No offense was taken my lord,¡± she said curtly. But it did nothing to change how exposed she felt.

    ¡°Still,¡± Henric continued. ¡°I would like to thank you. I was lucky that it was you that found me, and chose to build a fire instead taking me as hostage, or worse. I owe you my life, both of you.¡±

    ¡°What did you mean about Unmarked?¡± Niles asked.

    Henric nodded. ¡°Yes, I was wondering about that as well.¡±

    Kerra looked back and forth between them and sighed. ¡°You really don¡¯t know do you? The reason we all wear these marks?¡±

    They shook their heads. Kerra huffed.

    ¡°Your priests should be ashamed of themselves. The gods made the new Pact because it would prevent the dead things from preying on living souls, starving them of the energy to resist Judgement¡¯s call. But his people aren¡¯t known to wear a mark.¡±

    Henric grinned. ¡°Good. That¡¯s the same story my father told me when I was a boy. But I hadn¡¯t known that of easterners. My debt to you grows.¡±

    ¡°Actually,¡± Niles leaned in. ¡°There is something you might be able to do for us.¡±

    Henric arched an eyebrow.

    ¡°Well, you see, something was stolen from us while we were visiting the city, and we found ourselves a bit of trouble trying to get it back.¡±

    "I''ll see what we can do."

 Epilogue

    Henric bent to splash streamwater on his face. It was a small comfort against the sun¡¯s blazing heat. Something bumped him from behind, almost knocking him from his feet. His sister however didn''t manage to keep hers beneath her.

    Adelin swore. "Why did you stop?"

    "Why don''t you watch where you''re going?" Alizia chided as she brushed past her younger siblings.

    Henric held out his hand to help his little sister back up. "Ignore her. C''mon, it''s not much further."

    Two weeks had past since Henric had come this way hunting for the degreth, and the stream had shriveled as the spring storms gave way to the heat of summer.

    "We might need to travel further downstream," Zak hollered from up ahead.

    "Yeah", Henric shouted back. "I was just thinking the same thing." Adelin groaned.

    "How can you complain so much?" Zia asked.

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    "I''m sweaty," Adelin said. "This leather is sticking to in the most uncomfortable places."

    Alizia laughed. "I''d have thought you''d be excited not to be forced into a dress."

    "At least dresses don''t pinch and pull at my skin every time I bend. How can you stand it Henric?"

    Henric shook his head. "It''s either too hot or it¡¯s chafing at your legs. But it¡¯s harder to cut through than skin or silk. Certainly safer than a dress."

    "I''m not so sure about that" Zak said. He''d hung back to let his brother''s children catch up. "To kill a man in leather is one thing, he might be a threat. But a man in a dress?¡±

    Adelin snorted.

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Zak continued. ¡°He¡¯s no threat. Besides, silk or leather, I feel kind of naked without my steel on.¡±

    ¡°Are we there yet?¡± Alizia asked.

    Zak and Henric exchanged a glance.

    ¡°Here¡¯s good enough,¡± Henric said, drawing out a piece of chalk from a pouch on his belt. One by one, he marked out a lith, and said the words for protection as Samael had taught him not long ago.

    "Are you ready?" Zak asked.

    The girls nodded one by one. Henric thought back to the chill spring morning when he had first crossed. But then, none of them here were making their first crossing.

    "Muzum Ala thebeth"