Realm of Night Book 1: Shadow of Destiny

By: Sarah C.E. Parker

Prologue

The forest lay shrouded in a morass of shadows, the skeletal branches

seeming to reach out to ensnare the woman as she ran. She pushed forward through

the tangle, the landscape nothing more than a collection of vague shadows stained

against the night sky, an omen of the darkness that was yet to come. The woman's

slight form wove gracefully through the densely packed trees, a small bundle

clasped tightly to her chest. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears as she pushed

herself to go on despite the burning ache in her muscles that begged her to stop.

She glanced backward at the still wood, her eyes wild and frantic. Her dark

blue cloak streamed out behind her as she ran, her deep blue eyes searching for

those that followed. She ran with a speed and a recklessness that carried her

swifter than any horse could travel in such landscape, but still she knew that it was

not enough to escape her hunters, for nothing she could do could carry her far

enough away that they would falter in their pursuit. Her flight only delayed the

inevitable, yet still she ran on, heedless of it all.

Her foot skidded over a patch of ice, the slick surface completely invisible

under the webbing of shadows that covered the moon. She pitched forward into the

snow with a gasp, the bundle falling out of her grasp as the breath was knocked

from her body. She blinked away her dizziness and rose to her feet, scooping up the

child and checking carefully to make sure it was unharmed. All this would be

pointless if she did not succeed in saving it; destiny must be fulfilled, and she would

fight until her dying breath to ensure it was not in the way the emperor intended. A

sharp whinny echoed through the trees and her head jerked up in alarm. They had

finally come, and she must act quickly.

She placed the child under a tree, the small form wrapped tightly in layers of

blankets to keep it warm and hidden in shadow, away from the prying eyes of her

enemy. “I’m sorry.” She breathed quietly, deeply regretting that she could not stay

any longer. “But this is the only way you’ll be safe.” She leaned down and kissed the

infant’s forehead, her pale face streaked with tears. “Rest safe little one. Everything

will be fine by the time you awaken.”

She straightened and moved back a few paces, picking up a pile of branches

and rocks and wrapping it in one of the coverings that had clothed the infant,

praying silently that the false bundle would be enough to fool her hunters and

dissuade them from pursuing the matter any farther. She thought suddenly of a

simpler time, before the child, before the prophecy, a time of contentment when she

had been able to ignore the numerous atrocities committed by her people. Now she

saw the truth of things, saw the evil that lay beneath the emperor’s pretences. It

was too late to go back now. She must finish what she had started before malice and

ambition consumed them all.

The sound of pounding hooves shook her out of her reverie, her pursuers

drawing nearer with each moment that she wasted. She leapt forward, making her

way to the river bank with the faint hope that she could escape and return to find

the child after those hunting her had gone. A single arrow soared through the night,

embedding itself deep in her right calf and stopping her mid-stride. Her leg gave out

beneath her and she fell to the ground, her back to the forest with the sluggish flow

of the river only inches away. She struggled to rise, her body trembling from

exhaustion and her leg burning painfully in the place where the feathered shaft now

protruded.

“Really Silena,” a cruel voice remarked, echoing through the empty silence of

the forest in deep resonating tones. “I expected better of you.”

She rose to her knees, turning to face the tall figure who had spoken, his face

cold and proud as he loomed over her. She clutched the false package to her chest,

holding onto it as she would a lifeline. “Do not test me Voren. I will not let you do as

you plan. I will not let you win.”

He laughed, his dark eyes hard. “Don't be foolish woman. You are

surrounded. There is no way for you to escape. Either give me back what is mine, or

you will die, and in the end I will have it anyway.”

The woman shook her head, her expression defiant. “That's where your

wrong.” she whispered. She threw back the hood of her cloak, her dark hair

billowing around her in a sudden swirl of wind. She reached up to the heavens, her

hand burning with a dark fire. Voren yelled for his men to take action and stop her,

but their weapons did nothing, rebounding off the invisible currents of winds that

surrounded their target as the spell continued to run its course. The man shouted in

frustration as the woman was engulfed in a pillar of flame, the small bundle in her

hand burning slowly to ash along with its holder.

Voren threw down his weapon and returned to his mount, his face a burning

mask of rage. He glanced back over his shoulder at the small pile of ashes, snarling

in anger. “Your prophecy die with you!” he spat, moving away from the shore of the

river and rejoining his men.

Unnoticed in the shadows, the child continued sleeping, the men passing by

still completely unaware of its presence. Hours later, the howl of the wind whipping

hard at her cloak, another hand reached down to grab it. The slim figure had come

out here after running some errands, the manor where she worked less than a mile

away. She had come out here to clear her head and had stumbled upon the bundle

purely by chance, both puzzled and pleased by her discovery as she realized what it

was she had found. Peering down at the small figure clutched in her hands, the

woman was moved by pity. She gazed down at the small round face of the infant

with a smile breaking over her lips, the child’s lips tinged blue with cold. She pulled

the bundle closer and sauntered slowly through the brush, heading back toward her

house completely ignorant of the dark destiny that clung to the child she now held

like a shroud.

* * * * *

Chapter I

Foretelling

Deep darkness lay over the Lands of Night, the very air heavy with the

feeling of death that whispered softly on the wind. The face of Nyea Aterre stared

coolly out the window, her blue eyes dark like the waters of the depths, stretching

endlessly onward with an eerie calm that could pierce the soul.

She turned away from her contemplation of the landscape below, the city of

Nocturne stretching out beneath her in an endless wave that made her head spin.

The empire had stood for nearly thirty years now, stretching far beyond the Lands

of Night and into the southern realms, the border stopping just beyond the city of

Terrinth, or at least it did now, as of early this morning. She had watched the battle

as it had played out before her, seeing weeks in advance what was to happen and

watching with satisfaction as each piece had fallen into place exactly as predicted.

She was a seer, one blessed with the sight, but her abilities stretched far beyond

that, for she had many other unique talents as well, including the capability to read

the thoughts and heart of a person simply by looking at them. She could see what

was hidden both in present and future with little effort, and there were few in

existence that had power enough to challenge her.

She had served the empire for nearly twenty years, since she was but a child

of fifteen, brought to the city because of her extraordinary talent. In all that time

she had never once failed to predict what was to come; never once had she been

wrong. That was until Silena, and the night she had fled the citadel holding the

child that would destroy them all. The seer had received no warning of the event

until it had already transpired. She had read nothing of Silena’s intentions, had

seen not even the smallest omen, and the knowledge made her teeth grate. It had

been over sixteen years since that day, but still Nyea remembered each moment in

perfect detail. Death had been too easy an escape for that wretch, but at least she

was rid of her, and the ultimate failure of Silena’s foolhardy plans lessened her

rage.

She sighed impatiently as she waited for the emperor to respond to her

summons. He would be here in a minute or two; still, a minute was not quick

enough. The talisman was gone, had been gone for many hours, but she alone knew.

She alone could have warned them of its theft. Stubborn fool, she thought bitterly.

She had told him not to go to Terrinth with his army, told him something bad was

about to happen, but he had not listened. Let him enjoy the price of his negligence.

She peered once more into the pool of placid water that lay suspended on the

dais near the side of the room, the calm waters changing as she waved her hands

over them to affirm what she already knew. She watched as the series of events

played out before her, the picture wavering like a desert mirage. What was yet to be

was not set in stone, but the reach of the empire was not absolute and if no one

acted to change the upcoming disaster, she knew that things would play out exactly

as her visions had shown.

She drew away from the basin as the doors of the chamber flew open, her

pale face smooth and expressionless as her awaited visitor entered her room. She

regarded him with a discerning expression, his muscled form proud and arrogant as

he strode forward to greet her. “You have been fighting.” she observed, her eyes

skipping over his bulky armor which was still stained with the foul fruits of war.

“Terrinth has fallen, but you know this, for you saw it yourself, so why have

you called me here?” he demanded, one of the only people among the Nocturne who

would dare to speak to her so.

“Patience Voren.” she chided coolly. “You seek my services, but I will choose

how and when to give them. I have seen what is to be and unless fate is changed

your empire will fall. The armies of Kaleth and the other southern cities grow

stronger, and the light reaches forth for retribution upon the dark. This war has

lasted long enough, and events shall soon transpire to end it. By noon tomorrow you

shall be informed that the Xerkzes stone has been stolen, the vault broken into and

the item removed just this morning. Without the use of its power, you will be unable

to hold Sol'aira when your enemies attack and you shall lose the city as well as the

lives of three thousand of your strongest soldiers.”

The ruler's face grew frustrated, his expression darkening. “Why did you not

inform me of this earlier? If the stone is already taken, what good is it to know that

it will be used against me?”

She narrowed her eyes, her cold face callous. “You were not here earlier,

Voren. If you wished to be informed of these things, then you should have done as I

instructed and stayed behind while your armies took Terrinth. I will not run around

like some common messenger, plodding all over the realm to inform you of

something you could not have changed anyway! I warned the guards in Cayheir

that she would come, yet still she escaped. Fate acts as it will. The stone was meant

to be stolen.”

He stared at her, his dark eyes icy. “Do not forget Nyea that despite your

many talents, I can easily find another to fill your place should something happen to

you. Continue to prod me, and be sure that something will.”

She smiled, the expression never going farther than her mouth. “Now Voren,

you should know better. You could never find one willing to do the things that I do,

nor could you ever find one with the ability to see as clearly as I. Besides,” she

stated offhandedly. “the one you seek is not far off. She travels swiftly through the

villages to the south and shall arrive in Kaleth three days hence. Stop her there and

you will have your prize back.”

He inclined his head, “And how will I find this person?”

She turned away from him, her almost colorless hair swaying behind her as

she walked. “Her name is Viera Tyrellen. You will find her in the city square near

noon.” She waved her hand over the basin, showing him the face of the girl he

sought.

He stared impassively at the picture, his brown eyes cold. “Nothing more

than a foolish girl with a talent for theft. She will die for her infraction.”

Nyea stared down at the girl's face, the green eyes sparking defiantly with a

fire and determination that spoke true to her blood. There was more to her than the

emperor thought; his arrogance would be his downfall.

The seer waved her hand over the basin once more, dissolving the picture.

“Beware Voren, for surprises await those who you send into Kaleth. Many things

are yet uncertain and may impede your efforts.”

He glanced over at her, his face expressionless. “None will stop me Nyea. It is

far too late for that. I will get back what is mine just as I always have.”

She laughed without mirth, her pale face mocking. “You said the same with

Silena, Voren, yet still you failed. Remember this as you leave, for things work

against you which none have foreseen!”

* * * * *

Chapter II Shadow

The rancid stench of sweat and beer lay heavy in the air of the tavern,

making Seth grimace with its strength. He stared out at the people clustered

around the small room with a knowing gaze, the dark brown eyes holding a deep

intensity and perception not found in most people his age. At seventeen years old,

he held a fairly intimidating aura about him, with a lank muscled body that moved

with a fluid ease similar to that of a hunter stalking its prey. Coal black hair hung

low over his eyes, overshadowing his features and looking strange against the fair

skin of his face. It was not uncommon for the people of Cammen to have dark hair

and eyes, but even so he cut a striking figure, standing out among the populace like

a hawk among a cluster of sparrows. He had been told often that he did not look like

anyone from anywhere in the southern realm, but the assessment did not surprise

him as he had heard it often enough and had known his entire life that he was

different.

He slid silently into an empty booth, eyeing carefully the reason for his visit.

The man sat cloaked and shadowed in the far corner of the room, his head bent low

over his drink. Seth had been following him for a long time, fervently hunting him

ever since that night so many months ago when everything had ended. His hand

closed around the pommel of the sword concealed beneath the tunic at his side. He

had him now. Staying on the upper floors of the inn, the man would be easy to catch

unawares. In only a few hours he would have his revenge, and the man would wish

he had never come to the manor all those nights ago.

Seth glanced out through the dirt-streaked windows placed at random

intervals throughout the establishment, the pale gray sky beginning to darken with

the coming of night. He stayed where he was, studying carefully the layout of the

inn. In a few hours it would be dark and then he would go through with his plan

and end this hunt.

He rose to his feet and moved out into the muddy streets, a faint mist of rain

dampening his cloak and sending a deep chill right through to his bones. Huddled

shapes stood hunched in the alleys of the city, cloaks pulled tightly about them for

warmth. He made his way back around to the rear of the inn, settling down in the

shadows across from the building to wait as the last of the light faded from the sky.

The last few citizens left the streets, heading home to escape from the cold

and the damp. Not many remained inside the inn, most leaving not long after dark,

but even so, it was well after midnight before the tavern closed down. Seth felt a

sudden thrill of anticipation as the warm glow of the lanterns died down into

darkness, no sound disturbing the night as he slid soundlessly from his hiding place

and made his way to the side of the building.

He stared up at the cracked window in the wall above, his stomach clenching

with anger as he thought of the worm of a man that waited inside. He hoisted

himself up onto the top of a tall wicker basket overturned in the alley below,

climbing silently up the side of the building with a fluid ease that came from years

of practice. He leapt from the side of the building adjacent the inn, taking hold of

the ledge and balancing precariously on the sill of the window. He eased open the

window, slipping into the run-down setting beyond, one with the shadows as he

cautiously moved over to his prey.

The man lay sleeping in the far corner of the room, gnarled hands hanging

limply at his sides, only a hairsbreadth away from the hilt of his sword. Seth stared

down at the stranger with a look of disdain, scraggly beard and lank hair a dull

blond in color, his angular face worn and sallow. He was an unremarkable man, no

different than any other person you might pass walking in the streets, except for

the cruel twist of his mouth that marked him as something else, the air about him

fouled in a way few could sense. Seth knew him as a killer, the man who had

destroyed the only fragments he had ever had of a peaceful life. He moved slowly as

he eased his sword out of its sheath, the polished steel seeming to gleam with

anticipation as he did so.

He stared queasily at the silvered blade and for the first time experienced

doubts about what he was doing. He knew how to use the weapon, had spent years

studying hard to perfect the skill, but still he hesitated. He tightened his grip on the

hilt of the sword, steeling himself against the mix of emotions that roiled within

him. He glared down at the man sleeping only inches away and recalled suddenly

the face of Therin Whitewood, his icy eyes soft as he stared down at the boy he had

trained. Justice is not violence Seth. He squeezed his eyes shut to block out the

memory, not wanting to admit that the man he was avenging would be ashamed

were he to see him now.

Seth moved away from the bed, lowering the point of the sword until it

drooped toward the floor. He gave one final glance at the man sleeping on the bed

before backing toward the window, his anger draining out of him, smothered by the

feeling of nausea that had come to replace it. A sudden crash of thunder rumbled

through the window at his back, breaking the sullen silence that had surrounded

the night and destroying all thoughts of escape with what followed.

The man's eyes snapped open, the bloodshot irises unnaturally bright as they

came to rest on the figure crouched half in the shadows, the perceived assassin’s

dark eyes fixing on him beneath the covering of his cowl. The brute lurched upward

with a grunt, charging forward and seizing his sword from the place where it lay

beside the bed.

The man whipped the sword toward the boy's head, face contorting in an

expression of fury and hate. Seth intercepted the blade and smoothly slid under the

man’s clumsy attack, the sleep drugged drunkard not presenting much of a threat.

The man howled in anger as the point of Seth's sword pierced the flesh of his side,

his strike moved off target by the suddenness of the other’s assault. Seth twisted

around, knocking the sword from his attacker’s grasp and preparing to leave.

The man surprised him, not hesitating for even a second as the sword

tumbled from his hands. He rammed into the boy, the force of the blow knocking the

breath from Seth's body as he slammed into the wall behind him. The man grunted

with surprise as he finished his strike, eyes fixing on the figure before him as a

gurgle of blood dribbled over his lips. Seth looked somberly at his attacker, his

expression grim as he watched him slide limply to the floor, the blade he had held

braced before him as the man charged sliding smoothly out of his stomach. It was

done.

The door of the room was flung open, the stunned face of a maid looking

abhorrently at the body of the man, the blood drenched sword clutched loosely in

Seth's hand gleaming menacingly as he moved away from the corpse. A shrill

scream shattered the dark silence around him as he leapt through the window, the

sound of running feet pounding ominously behind him as he fled into the night.

He wove his way through the maze of pathways and alleys. He felt strangely

detached, his face expressionless as he stared down at the dark red fluid that coated

the length of his blade. He slowed to a walk toward the edge of the city, concealing

the weapon beneath his cloak and moving calmly through the shadows of a building

at the base of the twelve-foot wall that guarded the city. He climbed nimbly up the

worn wooden posts and slipped over the barrier into the forest beyond, the alarm

ringing through the night sounded far too late to make any difference.

He strode numbly through the covering of trees, knowing that the guards

would not pursue him outside of the city and that they couldn't track him even if

they did. He stared blankly ahead into the weave of branches that lay overhead. He

had done what he had come here for, and he would not regret it.

It was hours later that he finally stopped to rest, concealing himself in a

small depression at the base of some trees. The sky was already beginning to

lighten with the coming of dawn, the deep indigo of night giving way to the pale

gray aura that heralded day. He drew forth the once bright blade that had been

passed down to him with the death of its master. He laid the weapon across his lap

as he cleaned away the gore that encrusted its length. He gazed somberly at the

bright steel of the weapon, waiting a long time before returning it to its casing. He

had been in many fights, but to kill a man was something different altogether.

Nevertheless, he did not regret his actions. The deed was done and such foolish

things as hindsight and remorse had no place in his thinking. He lay back amongst

the damp mass of roots that made up the walls of the hollow, reluctantly

succumbing to the world of dreams, the ghosts of his past rushing forward to greet

him.

* * * * *

Chapter III

Meeting

The sun lay high in the noonday sky, the stall nearest the boy calling softly

to him with the promise of a meal that was long past due. The boy watched silently

as the vendor moved away from his wares to greet a new customer, enticing the

people with the promise of fresh bread and sweets that were displayed tantalizingly

before them.

The boy moved quickly, sliding behind the vendor with a causal ease and

slipping one of the loaves into the tattered bag he wore slung over one shoulder. The

man paid him no notice as he passed, unaware of the theft as the boy continued

down the narrow streets of the city toward the main market where he hoped to find

another opportunity to take something a little more substantial.

He strode onto the main street, just another ragged child amongst a crowd of

hundreds. He stopped in an alleyway to eat, the warm bread not doing much to fill

his empty stomach, but still delicious and fresh as he scarfed it down. Many

merchants and traders had entered the city this week to sell their goods. It was late

in the spring and the busy market was now ripe for the picking.

The boy rose to his feet, brushing the crumbs from the front of his trousers as

he prepared to set out once more. At ten years old, he had been living on the streets

for almost two years and had grown exceptionally good at stealing. Most of the time,

it was just food, but every now and then he would break into the odd house or tavern

to earn a little gold. It had not always been this way. Once he had lived in a house

and had food to eat and a bed to sleep in, but he didn't like to think about that. He

would never return to that place. Better to be out on his own.

He emerged back onto the main street, passing the hours by wandering

through the city and scanning the stalls for a chance at a meal. It was not until

sunset that the smell of beef stew wafting through the air became too great a

temptation to resist, the untended stall presenting an easy target for his talents.

He moved casually up to the stall, looking around the mostly deserted street

for any sign of the owner. Heavy steel lockboxes lay tucked behind the counter, and it

was easy to tell that the trader dealt in much more extravagant goods than soup. By

the looks of things, it was a jeweller’s stall, already closed for the night. The stew was

simply a neglected dinner that the merchant had not yet had a chance to consume.

The boy glanced away from the wares, eyes fixing on the pot of stew bubbling to the

side of the counter. Whoever had made it would probably not be gone for long. Haste

was more important than caution at the moment, and with no one around to report

him he saw no need for stealth. He moved forward, seizing a large bowl of the stew

and preparing to leave.

A rough voice sounded from behind his head, the hand strong and unyielding

as the shopkeeper seized his wrist. “So ya little runt, think you can steal from me do

ya? We'll see what a night in prison will do for ya then.” The man growled, nails

digging painfully into the boy's arm; any more pressure would put his wrist in

danger of breaking. If the man brought him to the guards he was in danger of a

flogging. Such a penance might be a little harsh for as small a crime as this, but

officers did not much care for street kids and judging by the gleam in the merchant’s

eye, he would not be satisfied until some form of punishment was delivered.

The boy glared up at the stocky man. Not many people were able to sneak up

on him, and this man was far from the stealthy kind, but he had allowed himself to

become distracted. He had deluded himself into thinking no one was there and now

he was paying the price for his carelessness. He acted without thinking, smashing

the clay bowl he held into the side of the man's face with his free hand and kicking

free of the grip that held him. He took off at a sprint, knowing it would be easy to

disappear into the maze of alleys that lined the street. The man howled in pain, large

fragments of the clay were now embedded in his face as the bowl had shattered on

impact. The merchant reeled backward, the boiling liquid searing his skin as he

clawed at his face in an attempt to tear free the jagged shards of clay embedded in

his cheek.

The boy did not look back as the man started after him, flying swiftly across

the rough flagstone toward the shadows between buildings where he could lose his

pursuer and never have to see that pig of a man again. He had gone only a few steps

however when a tall figure moved to intercept him, a company of guards heading

home for the night. He skidded to a halt with nowhere left to go, the angry

shopkeeper’s yells alerting the men to his presence.

He moved to back away, but one of the guards emerged from the street behind

him, the metal backed gauntlet locking tightly around his arm. The merchant came

sauntering up behind him, his condescending smile flooding the boy with a mix of

rage and frustration. “Got you now, ya little whelp. Ya shouldn't have done that.” he

growled, rivulets of blood running down from his soup stained face with patches of

greasy broth staining the velvet finery of his tunic. “I'll teach you not to hit me you

vermin!”

“What seems to be the problem?” one of the men asked, coming to the front of

the group and staring curiously at the bloody vendor and the ragged child held by

his men. The boy stared mistrustfully at the soldier as he approached. His brown

hair was streaked at the temples with lines of gray and the badge on his chest

marked him as very high up in the ranks of the guard.

“I caught this little whelp trying to steal from me.” the man hissed. “When I

confronted the little worm, he attacked me! Lucky you came or the little demon would

have gotten away.”

The guard glanced over at the boy, raising an eyebrow as he turned back to the

merchant. “And what exactly was he trying to steal?”

“That doesn't really matter. The point is he wounded me and took what was

mine!”

“Answer the question.”

“Soup.” he replied sourly.

The guard stared at the other man’s ruined finery. “I didn't take you for a food

vendor.”

“I’m not.” he hissed. “And I don't see what this has to do with any...”

“And is that there on your face the soup that was stolen?” the man asked

placidly. “Because if it is, it never really left your possession and thus cannot be

stolen. An untended meal taken by one hungry child is hardly a reason to throw

someone in jail. As for the 'wound' as you call it, if you grabbed him first, which I

assume you did, would that not make you the attacker?” The jeweller glared at him,

his eyes burning with rage.

The officer turned to address his compatriots. “Go back to the barracks; there's

nothing here to worry about.” he ordered.

“Yes captain,” came the muttered reply. The merchant remained where he was,

silently fuming as he waited for them to depart.

The guard turned to look at the boy, his blue eyes steady, “What's your name?”

he asked, calmly ignoring the angry mutterings of the man behind him.

The boy glanced at him uncertainly, eyes flickering to the merchant beside

them. “Seth.” he replied, his tone hesitant.

“Am I right in assuming you're out here alone, Seth? Because you seem

awfully young for that.”

The boy frowned, his dark eyes wary. “Why would it matter if I was? You

aren't going to arrest me, I know that already, and no guard is really worried about

street kids, so why would you be? ” he stated darkly.

The man raised an eyebrow. “Because maybe the idea of kids wandering the

streets at night doesn't exactly appeal to me. I had a son once, but he died quite

young. My wife passed away many years ago and I've lived alone for a long time

now. Do you want a place to stay boy, or would you prefer to remain here with your

friend out in the open?”

The boy glanced uncertainly at the shopkeeper standing a few meters away,

the rumble of his stomach finally deciding him.

* * * * *

Seth stared up at the clear blue sky, the tangle of branches obscuring his

vision. He blinked away the sleep from his eyes, the dredged up memories consigned

once more to the past with the fading of dreams. He remembered well the meeting

that day, but it did no good to think about it now. Therin Whitewood had been

Captain of the Imperial Guard, a skilled veteran in the wars who had given up life

as a soldier and joined the city’s watch a few years after the death of his wife. Seth

stared down at the sword sheathed neatly in its casing. The man had been like a

father to him, raised him from the time he was ten until a few months ago when the

men had come and destroyed that life forever.

He rose swiftly to his feet, carrying no supplies or possessions other than the

sword, a few coins, and the clothes on his back. He moved quickly through the dense

brush of the forest, rejoining the main path that lead west to the city of Kaleth

where he could buy more supplies and find a tavern or an inn where he might sleep

in an actual bed for a change instead of hiding in the shadows of buildings or

sleeping on the forest floor as had been his routine for the past few months as he

tracked Therin’s killer.

He continued down the wide dirt path, passing the occasional traveller on

their way to the cities that lay farther south. There was no sign of the cold and rain

that had lain so heavily over the land yesterday, so he travelled with his cloak

rolled into a pack he had bought from a passing merchant, the sword wrapped

neatly in its folds to avoid suspicion. He stared ahead at the rutted road, the path

becoming broader and more crowded as he neared the city. He had been to Kaleth

but once before, years ago when he had taken to roaming the streets, finding it

easier to keep moving than to stay in any one place for too long. He did not have

very many good memories of the place and he went there now only because he knew

he could not return to Cammen or any of the other nearby cities. In fact, it would

probably be best if he were to leave the deep south altogether or at least for a short

time while the rumors of the murder he had committed died down.

He slept that night under a ceiling of trees, the tight weave of branches

giving only brief glimpses of the velvet sky above. He awoke just before dawn the

next morning and gathered up his things, setting out early to assure he reached the

city before the day was out. He hitched a ride on a traveller’s wagon a few hours

into his journey, the cheery man’s voice an incessant buzz as he spoke pleasantly of

what was happening in the world, frowning disapprovingly as he spoke of the

empire of Nocturne and the fall of Terrinth not three days past.

Seth listened patiently to the man, the news of Terrinth sparking his interest

for but a moment before the man moved on to more ordinary matters. Everyone

knew of the empire of Nocturne and the people of the Lands of Night who fought for

them, ruthlessly destroying all who refused to submit in their quest for domination

of the realm. The other cities all fought against them, but one by one they were

falling. Terrinth had been one of the main garrisons that held off the Nocturne. If

that city had fallen, all that remained was the Altairens, the Venishians, and the

Kalethiens before all the real threats to the empire’s rule were destroyed. Seth

shook his head; it was not his business, but he couldn't help but feel saddened by

the news. He had after all, lived all his life in the south and if the rule of Night

reached this far, all freedom would soon disappear to either death or subservience.

He looked up, becoming aware that the man had asked him a question.

“What would a young man like yourself be doing in Kaleth, eh?” the man queried,

glancing back at him with eyebrows cocked.

Seth waited a moment before replying, his thoughts elsewhere. “Just

travelling, taking a chance to see the world before the war gets too near to do so.”

The man nodded. “I suppose that’s true.” he mused, his gaze distant. “Not

sure what to do me-self if things get any worse.”

He left the man an hour later, the small cart continuing onward toward the

market at the center of the city. He glanced around the tightly packed streets, the

numerous small squabbles that broke out among the men gathered there quickly

broken up by the guards supervising the chaos. Seth peered closely at the soldiers,

taking in their nervous stance and uneasy air, their hands hovering over the

pommels of their swords. They seemed on edge, as if looking for something, their

eyes dutifully scanning the rabble around them.

He made his way toward the main square, eating a quick meal before

continuing on toward his intended destination. Despite the fact that the armies

commanded by Kaleth were one of the main defences against the empire, the people

in the city itself were a little too used to living in luxury and held nothing of the

fierceness and valor possessed by their soldiers.

Seth glanced upward in an attempt to determine the time and was greeted by

a blinding brightness. The sun lay high in the sky, not a cloud in sight in the clear

canvas of the heavens that hung overhead. Judging by its position, he would say it

was about noon, giving him plenty of time before he needed to find a place to stay

for the night.

A cluster of men standing on the outside of the crowd caught his attention,

their dark features and pale skin looking odd among the fair-haired populace of

Kaleth. They were garbed in rich southland clothes similar in style to that worn in

the city of Cammen, but something about them seemed odd. He frowned, the

hostility and coldness that seemed to surround the group reaching out to Seth even

from so far a distance.

Someone behind him grabbed his shoulder, the bright hawk emblem

emblazoned on his chest marking him as a soldier of Kaleth. The guard studied him

intently, his expression disapproving as he did so. “What be your business here?” he

demanded, his blue eyes hard.

Seth met his gaze without flinching, his voice steady as he spoke. “I came to

see the city. I've been travelling for a long time and here was the nearest

settlement. Now if you'll excuse me, I have things to do.”

He pulled away in an attempt to leave but the soldier refused to release his

grip, his eyes narrowing. “And your friends over there, what would they be doing?”

Seth glanced confusedly at the men gathered at the edge of the square that

he had been watching earlier. “I’m afraid your mistaken.” he said truthfully. “I don’t

know those men.”

The soldier continued to glare at him. “Most wouldn't know the Sur’Aterre

just by looking at them, but I've served in this war long enough to recognize an

Aterre’Ro when I see one.”

Seth shook his head, becoming decidedly uneasy. He had no clue what the

man was talking about and whatever his suspicion, Seth didn't really want to stay

around long enough to find out. “I’m sorry sir, but I honestly don’t know what you’re

talking about. I came here just a few hours ago and I've never seen those men

before.” he said smoothly, decidedly agitated by the man’s accusatory glances and

irksome scowl. “It would be better for both of us if you stopped wasting my time and

just let me be on my way.”

The man raised an eyebrow, his eyes lightening slightly as if a thought had

just occurred to him. “In a rush to be gone then? And not from around here you say.

Would the place you came from perhaps be Cammen, because there were reports of

some unpleasantness there? I have a cousin who runs a tavern there, says one of his

guests was killed during the night by some dark assassin. It’s reasonable that you

would want to leave after something as shocking as a murder, but still...” he paused.

“What's in the bag?”

Seth’s face remained expressionless but he felt a twinge of worry as he

reached over his shoulder. He opened the pack, his manner relaxed as he showed

the guard the wadded up cloak and the neatly wrapped pieces of food he had bought

earlier. He knew what the man suspected, the maid who had seen him at the

window had probably given a general description of the murderer, but there were

hundreds of travellers coming from other cities each day, and it was impossible for

her to have given a detailed outline from nothing more than a momentary glance in

the dark. The soldier could not arrest an unarmed citizen simply because of a

suspicion. If he found the sword however...that would be a different matter.

The man glowered down at the contents of the pack, his suspicion still

evident. He began to turn away when a particularly violent shove from the people

arguing behind them sent Seth tumbling forward, the cloak-wrapped sword falling

out of the bag with a hollow clang. The soldier turned back in surprise at the sound,

the glimmer of steel sparkling in the sunlight. The man lunged toward him, but

Seth was already up and moving.

He scooped up the bundle and shoved forward through the crowd, the angry

shouts of the guard to “get back here” lost in the noise of the mob around him. He

shoved the sword back inside the bag, knowing that there was no chance now of

pretending he wasn’t guilty. He moved back from the main square, heading away

from the business section of the city to an area where there would be fewer guards.

He glanced quickly around the square to make sure no one was following and was

surprised to find that the strange men he had sighted earlier were gone. He

dismissed the thought from his mind, finding more important things to focus on as

he came to the edge of the square and started down a winding street toward the

west side of the city.

He swore silently as he passed another group of guards, the angered shouts of

the first soldier still in close pursuit causing the guards to take notice and forcing

Seth to quicken his pace as a new group of men took up the chase. He sprinted

across the sunlit streets, ignoring the irritated calls of people as he elbowed his way

past. He wished desperately that there were shadows or fog in which he could hide

instead of the bright light that reduced his chances of not being found to almost

nothing. If he had been any slower, he was almost positive that he would have been

caught already. Seth left the main street behind him and entered a fairly deserted

part of the city, the shattered ruin of houses on the outskirts of Kaleth a tragic

result of an attack a few years past.

He tore around a corner, colliding with a girl who had been running the

opposite way with enough force to send them both groaning to the ground. The force

of the impact jarred him completely and he sat up with a groan, dark eyes fixing on

the person across from him with an irritated glare. The girl met his look with one of

her own, her green eyes burning with indignation. She opened her mouth to speak

and then closed it just as quickly as the light footfalls of their pursuers sounded

from down the street. She bent down quickly to retrieve a small object that had

fallen when she had hit him, stuffing it hastily into a pocket at her side. She

motioned for him to be quiet and backed away into a narrow alley, crouching down

behind the tattered remnants of a few baskets and jars as the soft footsteps drew

closer. Seth followed close behind her, blending in easily to the shadows that

cloaked the alley, both of them frozen in complete silence as they waited.

A tall figure emerged at the mouth of the passage, followed by several others

all holding the wickedly curved blades of scythes tightly in hand. Seth stared at

them in surprise; they were the same men he had seen standing at the edge of the

square, cold eyes carefully scanning the place where they lay concealed. He glanced

over at the girl crouched furtively beside him, her olive toned skin smooth and clear

and her green eyes unnaturally bright as she stared out at the men gathered before

them. She was about his age, long brown hair falling just past her waist and tied

back by a single strip of green velvet the same color as her clothes. An ornate gold

necklace dangled down from around her neck and he knew with an unwavering

certainty that she was the reason those men had come to the city in the first place.

She was what they had been searching for when they were out in the square, and he

got the feeling that unpleasant things would happen should the men discover them

now.

The pounding of footsteps sounded in the street without, and the figures at

the mouth of the alley quickly retreated from the sound, blessedly unaware of the

two crouched only inches away from them. The girl gave an audible sigh of relief

and started to rise, but he motioned for her to stay where she was, holding his

position for a few moments longer as the company of guards rushed down the street

right past where they lay concealed.

He rose to his feet a moment later, the girl following close behind. “Too close.”

she murmured, glancing angrily at him. “You almost got both of us killed, do you

know that?”

He narrowed his eyes. “You weren’t exactly watching where you were going

either. It’s your fault just as much as it was mine.”

She stared at him with calm composure, her mouth fixed in a frown. “And I

suppose you think a few guards chasing after you is a reason to go ploughing

through the streets just bowling over anybody who crosses your path?”

He flushed, his eyes dark. “Blame me all you want, but I’m getting out of here

before I am arrested, or maybe worse should those men come back for you.”

He started down the alley, moving slowly back toward the forest when he

noticed the glow coming from inside the girl’s pocket. Something about the glow

drew his eye, and he knew the instant he saw it that it was no regular light. He

stared down at it, the soft blue light pulsing steadily from within the material.

“That’s why they’re after you, isn’t it?”

She glared at him, a look of wariness in her eyes. “It’s not your business if it

is. You should probably get going before they come back. You said yourself that you

could be resigned to something much worse than jail if those men you saw decide to

ask you about either me or this.” she said curtly, patting the side of her tunic.

“You should probably find a way to stop it from glowing,” he stated dryly,

making a point of ignoring her previous comment, “unless you want to be a walking

beacon to everyone you pass.”

She frowned, stuffing the object into a small rune-marked pouch at her waist

and sealing it to eliminate the glow. “It fell out when I bumped into you. It only

starts to glow some of the time. I still haven’t quite figured out why, but it’s safe as

long as it’s inside its casing.”

The low murmur of voices drifted out from the street and both of them fell

silent. Seth glanced over at the girl beside him, coming to a decision. “We both need

to get out of here before those people find us again. I can't go back to Cammen or

really anywhere else in this area where the guards will be looking. Wherever you’re

going, I get the feeling it will be safe and probably far away from the little incidents

that happen in the smaller cities, so I'm going with you. You could use some help

anyway.”

She stared at him incredulously. “Because a teenage criminal is exactly the

kind of help I need.” she stated acidly.

He ignored the comment. “Do you even know how to navigate through the

thousands of acres of woods that stand between you and any major city? Because by

the looks of it, I’d say you’ve never even been this far south before. Of course, you

could always take the main road, but I have a feeling you don't want to do that

when it would be so easy for those men to track you there.”

She flushed, her eyes lighting with anger. “Fine.” she snapped. “But the

moment we get far enough away, I’m going on alone.”

“Fine.” he replied calmly. “Now where are you headed?”

“Venir.” she said calmly.

He raised an eyebrow, his dark eyes searching. A Venishian, he thought. Not

many ventured outside the safety of their walls except for the men and women who

fought as soldiers, and Seth was fairly sure the girl was no soldier. He glanced once

more at the medallion hanging from the chain at her throat, the golden branches of

a tree spreading out across the disk, the ends of each tree-limb studded with

emeralds. There was something familiar about the symbol, and he had a feeling he

had seen it somewhere before. He stared at it for a moment longer before rising to

leave. “Follow me,” he said. “and be quick.”

They travelled swiftly through the intersecting alleys, past the rubble-strewn

streets, and into the woods beyond, taking care to avoid the groups of guards still

searching the area, though most had given up. It was already long after sunset

before they stopped, the flat terrain of the forest turning into rolling hills as they

went farther west. Seth glanced over at the girl sitting silently beside him as night

descended, the cool spring air sinking through the thin blankets she had wrapped

about her to ward off the chill. He pulled his black cloak from out of his bag,

noticing for the first time the bits of dried blood that lay encrusted on the side and

knowing bitterly that it wasn’t his.

He put it aside and stared out into the night, impervious to the chill of the

wind as it washed over him. He stayed that way until dawn, the milky gray light

left in the wake of the departing night giving the forest around him an alien feel. He

glanced once more at the sword lying undisturbed on the ground. This one makes

two. He thought glumly, the face of the other an indistinct blur at the back of his

mind. He rose slowly to his feet, the past weighing on him like chains around his

throat.

* * * * *

Chapter IV

First Strike

Viera's eyes slid slowly open, her calm gaze scanning the landscape

around her with careful perception. Her eyes fell on the boy standing across from

her, his dark eyes staring blankly out toward the horizon. He stood a head taller

than her, his movements fluid and precise, his face an unreadable mask that never

revealed what he was thinking. Her hand dropped deftly to her side, searching for

the fabled stone that had been the whole reason for her journey. Her momentary

anxiety faded as her hand found the smooth surface of the talisman, the small stone

vibrating with energy. She rose unsteadily to her feet, wiping the sleep from her

eyes and quickly assembling her pack.

The boy turned to face her as she rose, dark eyes calmly assessing her.

“You’re up.” he remarked. “We should leave now then. Best to be as far away from

here as possible by nightfall.”

“And why is that?” She muttered in response, gathering her things with

practiced casualness. “Was what you did so bad that the guards are going to come

out into the middle of the forest just for the sake of arresting you?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I was thinking more of the group of dark strangers

trying to kill you, as they seem more the type to make the trek out here. But if you

want to wait for them here, that’s fine with me.”

Viera did not reply to that one, throwing on her cloak and setting out without

another word.

They were a good ways into the forest already with Kaleth almost ten leagues

behind them when they stopped. Still, her companion had not been incorrect in

assuming that they were still in danger. They could never get far enough away from

the people that hunted her. Viera shook her head, not wanting to think about it.

She could not help agreeing with the boy’s logic, though his reasons for wanting to

rush were far different from her own.

She shifted her position on the fallen log upon which she was perched, the

boy sitting cross-legged on the ground across from her. “And where exactly are we

headed?” she prodded.

He stared at her calmly. “It’s a long way to Venir from here. The forest

stretches far to the west up towards the northern passes and the city of Faelyon. At

best, it would take a month, maybe more to get there were we to follow the road, but

there are other ways that are quicker.” He rose to his feet, slinging his worn leather

pack low over one shoulder. “We can move faster on foot towards the river, then up

through the foothills and into the more remote passes. If we leave now, we should

be across the river and halfway to the mountains by dusk.”

She nodded slowly, gathering her things and preparing to leave. “You never

told me your name.” she said casually.

He did not look over at her. “You never mentioned yours either, so that

makes us even.”

She grimaced, hesitating a moment before replying. “Viera.” She stated

coolly. “My name is Viera.”

He smirked ever so slightly. “That’s not a very common name, not around

here anyways.”

“Where it comes from is irrelevant. At least I have a name, unlike you at the

moment who seems to prefer anonymity, though that’s not really surprising coming

from a criminal.”

His gaze darkened. “Seth.” He stated curtly.

“No last name?”

“Don’t have one. Now, I’d like to get going rather than sit here debating, so if

you will…”

He started off into the forest and she resisted the impulse to glare. The

reason she had allowed this boy to come with her at all escaped her, but she had no

other way of finding her way through this mass of growth that seemed to stretch on

forever in every direction. Perhaps she should have paid more attention to her

lessons on navigation and tracking, but the topic had never really interested her

and it was too late now. She would simply have to work with what she had. She

pulled herself out of her reverie and followed her self-appointed guide through the

tangle of brush, the sun filtering down through the canopy of spreading branches

above.

They stopped for lunch without so much as exchanging a word. The boy

carried no map or any sort of compass to indicate their direction and she soon began

to worry. She chewed stoically on a piece of salted beef, drinking down a mouthful of

water and growing steadily more uncertain. What kind of a person didn’t have a

last name? Not to mention the fact that she had met him while he was fleeing the

law, not a very reassuring prospect. Still, it was not like she needed to worry. The

people coming after her were far more dangerous than this boy, and even if he did

try anything, she was fully capable of taking care of herself.

After hours of hiking without any apparent change she had begun to question

whether he really knew where they were going after all. She opened her mouth to

say so when they emerged from beneath the trees onto a narrow ledge hanging over

a stretch of water flowing sluggishly below them, the tall peaks of mountains faintly

visible far in the distance over the treetops. The sun had already begun to sink

below the horizon by the time they reached the cliff and the boy motioned her

toward a small trail winding down toward the riverbank below.

She closed her mouth and bit back the doubtful criticism already brimming

on her lips. Her guide glanced back at her as she swallowed her words, seeing in her

expression the nature of what she had been about to say. “You didn’t think I knew

where I was going, did you?”

She did not reply, but he took her silence for acquiescence. Everything he

said was relayed with a factual coolness without the slightest hint of smugness or

condescension, but it annoyed her nonetheless. Her annoyance faded as the boy

before her suddenly drew up short, his dark eyes troubled. She peered at him in

slight concern. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” he said coolly, walking on without so much as a backward glance.

She frowned at the blatant brushing off of her question, but whatever it was that

had bothered him probably did not concern her anyway.

The tall overhang of the hill overlooking the river loomed above them as they

edged their way down the trail toward the waters below. A small boat was docked at

the base of the path which they followed and it would be easy to cross once they

reached the bank. A sudden screech and a rustling of wings in the foliage above

Viera made her jump. She reeled backward, almost losing her footing and

plummeting down into the churning mass of water beneath her. She steadied

herself and peered searchingly into the thicket above in an attempt to see what had

made the sound, but was unable to make out anything in the dense tangle of

branches hanging overhead. A flash of movement caught her eye and a warning

shout from the boy in front of her came too late to save her.

A large red-banded bird flew out of the branches with a screech, claws raking

toward her face as it dove toward its prey. It was amazingly fast, its speed belying

its size. With its wings spread out, it measured almost the full length of her body.

She lashed out with lightning speed, raking her dagger across its exposed

underbelly as she ducked under the reaching talons. Her eyes followed the bird as it

fell in a bloody poof of feathers to the river below, its wing clipping her side as it

streaked past and throwing her off balance. She stood there wobbling for a moment

as one foot slipped off the edge of the precipice, but in the end she was unable to

recover, sliding backwards in a tangle of arms and legs as she plummeted toward

the frigid waters below.

Viera gasped as the icy cold of the river hit her, washing over her in a

stinging sheet as she sunk below the surface and was caught up by the current. She

curled herself into a ball and tried to regain her sense of orientation as she searched

for which direction was up. It was mid-spring in the forest and the cold alone was

not enough to kill her, but the crushing force of the rapids that battered her along

made reaching the surface unmanageable. Her lungs had begun to burn, screaming

for air as the seconds ticked slowly away and she failed to find her way free of the

depths. A shape suddenly dove smoothly into the water beside her, catching her

around the waist and dragging her spluttering to the bank beyond.

She clawed her way onto the shallow stretch of sand, shivering violently in

the deepening cold of twilight and coughing to clear her lungs.

The boy sat down placidly beside her, his eyes dark and foreboding as they

examined her. “Never stare at a Sylen raptor. They take it as a challenge to their

territory. It could have done worse than knock you into the water if you had been

any slower with that dagger.” He slipped back into the dark leather boots that he

had bundled up along with his other supplies in the worn leather pack he carried,

not seeming to be bothered by the rivulets of icy water running down his body.

She ignored the brief flash of irritation she experienced at the criticism and

rubbed her arms vigorously to try to restore some feeling of warmth. “I suppose I

should thank you.” she said softly, “Even if you are the one who led me out onto that

narrow ledge above a raging torrent of water in the first place.” She could not help

adding the last part, not liking the irritating habit the boy had of always being in

the right. The fact that he did not gloat over it seemed to make it all the worse.

The sharp snapping of twigs brought them both about, a silver sword

clutched tightly in the boy's hand as he turned to face the intruder. Her own hand

instinctively strayed to one of the daggers at her waist, her first thought that her

hunters had found her already. The man who stepped out of the woods however,

was certainly not what she had been expecting. Milky white eyes stared out at them

from under a mop of dark hair peppered with sections of gray, never really seeing

them but knowing they were there nonetheless. A worn wooden walking stick

waved searchingly in front of the man as he walked, guiding him along the rough

terrain toward the banks of the river. Seth did not lower his sword, staring at the

approaching stranger with stony eyes.

The man regarded them with a kindly expression, leaning casually on his

cane. “And what would you two be doing out in the woods at this hour?” He cocked

an ear as if listening for something and shook his head. “Been swimming in the

river too. Probably freeze to death long before dawn if left out here. Come. I can't

leave a couple of youngsters to die of cold; just wouldn't be right.”

He motioned for them to follow, and Viera hesitated only a moment before

complying. Seth shot her an icy look before coming along after her. It unnerved her

how intense those dark eyes were, fixed now on the man in front of them as if

tracking the movements of a cornered lion who was liable to turn around and bite

them at any moment. They arrived at a small cottage a few hundred meters away

from the river, hidden in the dense foliage of the surrounding forest. Viera stared

with something approaching jubilation at the small building, as spending the night

sitting sodden in the dirt had not appealed to her.

The man turned to face them, his weathered face breaking into a smile. “I get

a surprising amount of people out here. Running from this or that, sometimes just

travelling, but if I had to guess, you two seem more the former than the latter.

You’d be surprised how many people end up falling in that there river. Most don't

make it long past dawn; come down with all sorts of terrible sicknesses from the

cold and damp. You two can stay for the night, or at least ‘til you dry out a bit.”

Viera opened her mouth to reply, but the boy beside her shook his head

before she could utter a word. “There's plenty of wood out here to build a fire. We

appreciate the offer, but I'm afraid we can't accept.” Seth’s tone was cool as always

and she stared at him with steadily increasing anger.

“It is a very nice offer.” she said curtly. “And though my companion may

prefer to stay in the woods, I do not wish to chance freezing to death, fire or no.”

Seth arched an eyebrow, and she bit her lip, realizing she was being slightly

childish. She refused to accept that she had only agreed to the invitation because he

had not, but somewhere in the back of her mind a voice whispered that it was so.

Her guide surprised her however, by taking another moment to think it over before

nodding in agreement. “I suppose it would be a good idea at that.” he said softly,

glancing back at her. Viera caught the look and instantly understood. She had not

realized until that moment how badly she had been shivering, and she crossed her

arms to conceal the fact.

She glanced sidelong at her companion. She was not the only one feeling the

effects of the cold. Though his face remained placid, he could not stop the almost

imperceptible shivers that ran up and down his arms.

The man nodded in satisfaction, his worn face displaying a plain, open

honesty that seemed to make him all the more trustworthy. They proceeded forward

and entered the small spacious building that served as the man’s home, the main

room accompanied by two adjacent areas for eating and rest. The man knelt over

the barren hearth laid against the far wall of the room, stacking logs and pulling

out flint and tinder. Before long he had a fairly large blaze going, the brilliant

flames giving off waves of heat.

He disappeared for a moment into one of the adjacent rooms and re-emerged

holding two bundles of clothing clutched in both hands. Viera could not help but

notice how easily he moved. He must have lived out here a long while to be so sure

of his surroundings. The man handed her one of the bundles of old clothes he had

gathered, the plainly woven wool dress made for someone shorter than she, though

it would be loose around the shoulders. “Belonged to my daughter.” the man said

humbly. “Should fit alright. At least it’ll suffice until your clothes dry out a bit.”

He handed Seth a similar bundle, and directed her to a secluded backroom

where she could change. She quickly slid out of the soggy silk shirt and leather

pants, wringing out her long hair and leaving a large pool of liquid on the wood

below. She stared disapprovingly at the plain dress lying stretched out on the bed

for a moment before slipping into it. The coarse wool felt strange against her skin

and the bulky skirts would make anything above a brisk walk difficult.

She strode back into the main room to find Seth sitting huddled in front of

the fire, his dripping shirt and trousers hanging on a thin clothes line stretched over

the hearth. The man who owned the cottage was nowhere to be seen.

She made her way over to the fire, taking no more than a few steps before

Seth registered her presence. He looked up as she entered, damp black hair

overshadowing his eyes. “There’s a spare blanket over on the chair if you want it.”

He informed her, turning back to face the flames.

The hermit who had invited them in appeared again in the narrow doorway

leading from the kitchen few moments later. He tossed them each a worn sackcloth

pillow, though how he knew where to throw it, Viera had no idea. “You can stay

here for the night.” He said, indicating the room about them with a wave of his

hand. “As for right now, I need some sleep even if you don’t yet.” He left without

another word, moving into the separate bedroom and locking the door. Apparently

he wasn’t so trusting as to leave the room open with two armed strangers in the

vicinity.

Viera gathered up the blanket and hung her pants, shirt, and cloak alongside

Seth’s, then sat down next to him. She studied him closely, taking in every detail,

from the pale skin and sculpted features to the piercing almost black eyes staring

out from underneath his sodden hair. “I didn’t really do such a good job of thanking

you.” she remarked softly.

He turned toward her, face expressionless. “You don’t need to.”

She frowned at him. “Maybe it’s just that I don't really know anything about

you, do I? Why did you insist on leaving Kaleth so quickly, and who are you

anyway?”

He remained impassive, his eyes serious. “I'm just a guide. Once we get to

Venir, I'll go my own way and that will be the end of it. You know no more of me

than I do of you; that seems fair enough to me.”

She sighed, running her hand through the lank tendrils of damp hair that

had fallen into her eyes. She refused to even consider revealing to him the truth of

her identity. Her mission here was far too important to discuss with a stranger, no

matter how many times he saved her. If he wanted to keep his secrets, fine. She was

not about to tell him all about herself just in the hopes of finding what he hid. She

resigned herself to silence, leaning back against one of the chairs and watching the

stranger in front of her with cool discernment.

He sat motionless with the blanket draped loosely around his torso, some

semblance of color beginning to return to his features. Apparently he had been just

as exposed to the frigid water as she. Hours passed and the shivers that had racked

them subsided, disappearing along with the damp.

They changed back into their own gear immediately after their clothing had

dried. She for one, did not want to spend another minute clothed in the abrasive

material of the garb the hermit had provided. Seth placed his cloak to one side,

searching the edge of the garment for something before putting it on, though she did

not know why. He found nothing and leaned back against the stone hearth,

seemingly satisfied. He looked up suddenly and the strange troubled look she had

seen before emerged once more as he scanned the landscape outside through one of

the wide windows in the cabin wall.

He rose to his feet before she could ask what was bothering him, reaching

sideways and pulling free his sword from where it had lain concealed within his

pack. She looked at him uncertainly and then bounded to her feet as the back door

of the cabin flew open. She reached for her daggers even before the black cloaked

figure emerged, but was a second too slow as the boy had already crossed the floor

and struck with the sword before the door was even fully open.

The man easily parried the blow using a curved blade made entirely of a

black crystalline material that gave off a malevolent feel. She recognized the metal

as a Nyxen blade and all doubts as to the identity of their attacker immediately

vanished. She jerked her hand forward in a circular motion before the man could

retaliate and the fire simmering in the hearth behind her flared upward, shooting

forward to engulf the hunter and reducing him to a charred lump smoking in the

center of the doorway.

Seth’s eyes widened in surprise, and he whirled around to face her. “What…”

A sudden cry from the back of the house cut off his exclamation and Viera darted

forward without attempting a reply. Now was not the time for explanations.

They sprinted to the doorway leading to the bedroom where their host slept,

kicking it open only to find another shadowed form hovering over the bloody

cadaver of the blind man. An unholy light gathered in the air around the assailant,

and Viera’s own hands flew up, but Seth was faster than both of them. The hunter

started in surprise and lunged forward with his sword as the boy charged towards

him, the energy in the air about him dissipating. Seth slid away from the stab and

brought his own weapon up in a smooth arc, severing the assassin’s head before he

could deflect it.

Viera blinked uncertainly as she watched the hunter fall. She had never seen

anyone move so fast, and her guide’s reaction only brought further questions to

mind about just who it was who she had gotten herself entangled with.

Seth jerked his eyes away from the corpse of the hermit lying motionless on

the floor as he felt her eyes upon him, looking up at her with a haunted expression

as he sheathed his weapon and headed towards the nearest exit. Viera followed

close behind him as he leaped out through the shattered remnants of the bedroom

window, knowing that they could not be found here when the rest of her pursuers

came calling. She breathed deeply to clear her head, casting one last sad glance at

the limp form on the floor of the room behind her before fleeing into the night.

Chapter V

Hunters

Streamers of light speared through the narrowed slits of Viera’s eyelids

as she woke. She winced at the sudden brightness, shielding her eyes with one hand

and sitting up to survey the land around her. They had spent the night hidden in a

hollow, the people who hunted her disappearing after that first encounter at the

cottage. She suspected that the two who had confronted them there had only been

scouts, as they had gone down far too easily to be fully trained. The rest were a few

days behind at most and when they came, there would be trouble.

She shifted her gaze to the boy keeping watch at the edge of the hollow,

staring grimly out into the landscape beyond. He turned to face her, the dark

shadows lying under his eyes revealing to her that he had not slept. She did not

think it was the struggle with the hunters that had troubled him though. He had

not seemed at all frightened by the encounter, only surprised. No, she did not think

it was the fight itself that had unsettled him, but more the incident’s casualty. She

had seen the tight look that had lain over his face when he looked down at the blind

man who had sheltered them, and she felt certain that it was guilt and other

regrets had kept sleep at bay. “It’s good you’re awake.” he remarked. “We should

leave as soon as you’re ready and head north around Zoul’s Pass. We’ll be into the

Western Mountains by nightfall.”

She stared around the dense cluster of trees, unable to distinguish one from

another. All her years of training and study seemed worthless when pitted against

the endless wilderness that had recently become one of her greatest foes. It had

been easy enough travelling along the roads with the caravans or through the cities,

but once her enemies had come after her and she had become a target, she could no

longer enter the cities without having ten of them on her in a moment. Worse still,

was how they always seemed to know exactly where she would be, first in Cayheir

when she had first taken the stone and then in Kaleth later on.

She glanced once more at the thick trunks that closed about them.

Everywhere she turned she was confronted by the same mass of foliage that seemed

to blur everything together and make it impossible to tell one area apart from the

next, and after that first day out of the vaults when she had been lost in the Endless

Plains, she supposed it was a good thing she had a guide this time to see her

through. Not that she would ever admit that to him, or to anybody else. She had

shown them all by doing what no other could and acquiring the Xerkzes Stone and

gone even farther by escaping the Demor sent to retrieve it. She suppressed a

shudder, thinking of the dark cloaked figures that still tracked her. She had not

truly succeeded in escaping them, not yet. Either way, she was stronger than

everyone believed, and this would prove it. She glanced once more at the weave of

greenery clogging their path and pursed her lips. It was unbelievably frustrating to

live with the knowledge that even after all she had done, everything would have

fallen to pieces because of some trees and rocks were it not for the boy sitting beside

her.

She shook herself out of her reverie, realizing that Seth was watching her, his

dark eyed gaze mildly disconcerting. He could not be more than eighteen, but

something in his eyes spoke of someone much older. “If you’re done thinking.” he

said quietly. “It would be a good idea to get out of here before those strangers come

after us again.” he shook his head, “Though I still don’t know why they’re after you,

do I? No doubt it has something to do with that stone your carrying, but I don’t see

how someone such as yourself came across it in the first place.”

“And what exactly do you mean by that?” she asked pointedly. “What you’re

asking has to do with me and me alone; it’s none of your business. What makes you

think I need to answer you anyways?”

His face remained impassive and his reply was cool and unperturbed. “You

don’t, but I figure if I’m going to be involved in all this I should at least be aware of

what’s happening. After last night, I really don’t want any more surprises. You

could of course choose not to tell me and I’ll leave you here and now, though I doubt

you’ll have much luck finding your way out of here on your own.”

She widened her eyes. “Is that a threat?” she demanded, her voice rising.

He spoke smoothly, still maintaining the same casual air that made her teeth

grind. “No, just a statement. Now, are you going to answer or not?”

She sighed, staring hopelessly at the foreign setting around her. He had

already saved her life, and he had not shied away from the hunters when they

attacked; she supposed he had a right to know. “My full name is Viera Tyrellen.”

She glanced at him sidelong to see if there was any recognition in his gaze and was

relieved to see that the name meant nothing to him. There were still some things

she needed to keep a secret. “You were right when you said earlier that the name is

not from around here. I serve in Venir as one of the Falir Al Tear, the Keepers of

Light, dedicated from birth to fight against the darkness that threatens and keep

the peace of our kingdom. The stone I carry is a talisman called the Xerkzes stone.

It is an ancient power that enhances the wielder’s magical abilities, and, if used

correctly, can bring an entire city to its knees with one blow. It is why the empire

conquered almost half the realm so easily, and it is what must be used against them

if they are to be destroyed. I stole it from the vaults of the emperor in the city of

Cayheir and now he has sent his assassins, the Demor, to retrieve it. That is why

they are after me and that is why, for both our sakes, we should get moving before

they find us and take back what is theirs.” She sighed. “Does that answer your

question or do you have more stubborn curiosities that need to be satisfied before I

can fulfil my duty and bring back the stone?”

Seth looked away from her, his eyes lost in thought. “Why would the

Venishians send only one of the Keepers to retrieve the stone? And why one so

young when there are almost certainly more experienced and better able people who

would have been a better choice?”

Viera looked away, growing angrier by the minute as he continued to prod

her. Why does he have to be so bloody perceptive? Can’t he just be satisfied with the

answers I give him instead of demanding an explanation for every little secret and

problem? Why couldn’t I have been given a guide who wasn't so prying? “You’re

right.” she sighed. “There are others who would have been chosen to go in my stead.

The fact of the matter is, Seth, that if the council had been given a choice in the

matter, they would never have let me go. I didn’t come here under orders. My people

believed this quest was too dangerous, especially for... for me. I went to prove that I

could do it, because it was something that needed to be done and my people would

not do what was needed. Happy? Now it’s your turn. Why were those guards

chasing you back in Kaleth, how do you know so much about tracking and sword-

fighting, and why did you want to come with me in the first place?”

He raised his eyes to meet her gaze, unflinching but grim as he stood without

replying. Finally he opened his mouth to speak, his eyes holding hers. “I’m here,

Viera, because I feel I should be. It doesn’t get much more specific than that, and as

for the other things… I’ve learned to do a lot of things over the years that you’d be

surprised at, both from experience and from instruction. The guards are after me

because they believe me to be the villain, and the true evil, the victim. That's all you

need to know. Now, I suggest we leave.”

She stared wordlessly after him as he turned his back to her and strode off

into the wood, finding her voice a few moments later when he was already almost

gone from her sight. “That’s it?” she demanded. “That’s all you’re going to tell me!”

“Are you going to wait there forever, Viera? Or are we going to get moving?”

She remained where she was a moment longer before gathering up her pack

and following after him, muttering under her breath about how foolish she was for

ever letting this boy come with her in the first place. It was pointless to try asking

again about what had brought him here. He wasn’t going to tell her anything more

at the moment, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to. She did not know much

more about him now than she had before. All he had revealed was that he gave very

little in the way of information, though he seemed determined to know everything

hidden from his own knowledge.

She plucked a slice of bread from her pack, tearing at it angrily as the forest

around them continued unchanged. Some people were just impossible to reason

with.

They slept that night in a small clearing a few miles off the main road

leading to the West Mountains. According to Seth, they were moving much faster

and with much less risk than if they had taken the road, but the confusing maze of

brush that seemed to surround her at every turn and the menacing growls

emanating from the forest at night made Viera skeptical as to the amount of truth

in that statement.

It was a few hours past dawn, four days after their meeting in Kaleth that

the prominent shapes of mountains began to appear on the horizon. Viera knew

they were nearing the pass that would take them over the border and into the area

where Venir was located. They stopped quickly for lunch a few hours later,

consuming the last of the food each had brought with them. She sighed, looking

down at the empty sack; they were in for a difficult journey if they had to continue

without food. They resumed their long trek a few minutes later, the sun just

beginning its descent through the heavens. Seth stopped suddenly, eyes peering

searchingly into the forest behind them. She stared at him quizzically, her eyebrows

raised in silent question. “Something’s following us.” he answered slowly.

“Something dark, and it’s not far off.”

Her stomach tightened, “The Demor, they’ve found our trail. Come on, there’s

no time to waste.” They broke into a run, Viera’s smooth strides just barely keeping

pace with the boy in front of her. The trees flew past on either side of them, the

landscape of the forest changing into the sparse stretch of the valley leading down

to the Pass of Zoul. Viera sprinted across the yellowed grass, knowing she could

maintain this pace for miles before tiring. She glanced uneasily at the figure before

her; the boy was running nearly twice her speed, slowing only slightly when he saw

her lagging behind. She might be able to run long distance, but she did not know if

the same could be said for him and if either faltered, the Nocturne would have

them. Despite her worries however, he kept on, never slowing and they went for

nearly two miles before the thunder of hooves behind them revealed the presence of

the hunters they had been dreading. She swore under her breath, quickening her

pace. Seth glanced angrily over one shoulder, his eyes fixing on the foremost of the

figures coming up behind them, the hunter crouched low over his saddle as he

charged ahead.

Seth fell back beside her, knocking her to the ground as the horse galloped

past them, the black metal scythe missing its chance at decapitating them by only

inches. The horse wheeled about, the other Demor coming up to join the rider and

striding steadily toward their target.

Viera rolled to her feet, silver dagger gleaming with light as she hurled it

toward the man leading the attack. The man raised his blade to ward off the attack,

giving a shout of surprise as the Seraphen blade burned right through sword and

armor both and struck him in the chest. The enchantment around the knife

surrounded it in a halo of light as it seared into her enemy’s flesh, a formidable

weapon that could pierce through even the toughest of armor. The man lay writhing

on the ground, his companions moving forward with lightning fast speed and never

stopping to try and aid him. Viera stared grimly out at them; she could not kill all

five. Seth was nowhere in sight. He probably fled after the first attack from that

horse. She thought angrily. It was the smart thing to do. She shouldn't have

expected any different.

A second slayer leaped forward, sword swinging forward to take off her head.

Viera raised her own blade to ward off the attack, seeing the man with a cold

detachment as she focused her energy and struck him in the chest with a hand

sheathed in light that knocked him off his feet and sent him sailing through the air

into the rest of her attackers. A cold hand closed around her chest as she finished

the strike, cutting off her breath and sending spikes of pain streaking throughout

her body. She fought against the dark magic but the two who were the source of the

assault stood before her unwavering, almost gleefully continuing their attack. Only

two? She thought blearily. But then where are..?

Her attacker gave way with a sudden cry as Seth emerged from out of the

shadows, the long length of his sword plunging through the heart of one of the

Demor implementing the dark magic. Viera collapsed to her knees, coughing to get

her breath back as the dark magic that had run through her dissipated. The last of

the hunters spun around with a hiss, her features obscured by her helmet but still

easily identifiable as feminine. Many of the Nocturne’s warriors were women but

the discovery seemed to unsettle Seth as he struck out at his opponent with only the

briefest hesitation. The woman’s face contorted in anger as she caught the boy’s

attack on the rim of her shield and retaliated with an attack of her own. Viera

realized distantly that she had to do something to help Seth, but she only managed

to rise halfway to her feet before sinking weakly back to the ground.

The Demor backed up as the edge of Seth’s blade was deflected only inches

from her throat, her gaze darkening perceptibly as the air around her began to

change. She raised her hand, clenching it into a fist and Viera cried out in warning

as the flood of dark magic struck Seth in the same way it had her. He gave a start,

stiffening in shock as the cold seared through him, but then his face hardened, a

sickly light rising up around him before spreading out toward the woman who had

launched the attack.

The hunter screamed out in anguish as the energy struck, arcing backwards

before falling to the ground in a crumpled heap. The sound lasted only a moment

but to Viera it seemed longer. Shivers ran up and down her spine as the hideous

note faded into silence and she glanced wildly at Seth, too shocked to speak with

her mind rapidly searching for some reasonable explanation for where such magic

had come from. She shifted her attention back to the hunter stretched out of the

ground before her. The woman lay staring at nothing, her eyes blank and

unfocused. Seth stared queasily down at her, his eyes flickering with the remnants

of something dark that Viera had not seen before.

He went over to the place where she knelt, his face resuming its normal

expression of icy calm as he helped her to her feet. “Are you alright?” he asked.

She nodded slowly, her legs feeling like jelly. “I will be.” she paused, staring

out at the four corpses littering the valley floor and once again wondering what had

befallen the others. “I didn't think I had a chance. I mean...well, I thought...”

“That I wasn’t coming back.” he finished. She looked away shame-faced. “I

would have thought the same.” he said simply. “Strangers don’t usually go into life

threatening situations when they have a chance at escape.”

“That makes twice now in the span of one week that you’ve saved my life.”

she said quietly.

He shifted his gaze to the woman on the ground, the bloody remains of the

men around her nothing compared to the look of sheer horror written on her face.

“Don’t thank me.” he said quietly. “I don’t need more lives on my hands.”

She stared at him uncertainly, reassessing her earlier opinion. “We should

probably find the others before they can return and give their reports.”

“You won’t need to look far.” he said calmly. “They’re off in the trees lying in

much the same state as their comrades. I came at them from behind while the rest

were focused on you.”

He helped her over to one of the hunter’s horses, the red eyes of the animal

fixing them with a piercing stare, curved fangs hanging out of the corners of its

mouth. Seth stopped moving, staring back at the animal with unblinking eyes.

“Relax,” she said smoothly. “It may not be a normal horse, but it isn't going to hurt

us. It’s what my people call a Voterre. They can run faster and longer than any

animal and scale almost any terrain, not to mention that they’re excellent in battle.

Most are held by the Lords of Night in the empire, but despite appearances, they

are not inherently evil. Unlike their masters Dyl Aterre Demor and the rest of the

Nocturne, who seem to be cruel by nature.”

He glanced over at her. “Who are Del Atear Demur, or whatever you called

them? I’ve heard you mention them before when you were talking about those sent

by the emperor to get back the stone, but you didn’t take the time to elaborate.”

“It is the proper name for those that hunt us.” She responded. “It means He

who hunts in Shadow. Or if you want to say it correctly, He who is Shadow’s Hunt,

but the ancient language isn’t usually spoken word for word when translated.” He

raised an eyebrow and she coughed awkwardly. “Anyway, it refers to the wielders of

dark magic who serve the emperor as private assassins or hunters to track down

and kill his enemies.”

“And he’s sent them after you to retrieve the stone you stole.” she nodded, the

last of the light fading as twilight approached.

“We should leave quickly and get to this pass you were talking about before

dark.” she stated, mounting the big animal in front of her and disgustedly striping

off the black flame of the empire that marked it.

Seth stood staring uneasily at the creature for a moment before doing the

same. Animal and master looked at each other as if regarding a venomous snake,

coiled and ready to strike. Her animal purred happily as she patted its head. She

had been uneasy too the first time she had met a Voterre stallion, even knowing

their nature, but it had proved an excellent escape from Cayheir after the guards

came for her and was probably the only reason she had found her way out of the

Endless Plains.

She dug her heels in, the animal leaping forward and shooting off across the

valley floor. Seth followed close behind, his eyes coming to rest once more on the

body of the female Demor before chasing after her.

* * * * *

Chapter VI

Looking Glass

Warped visions of fate and destiny filled Nyea’s head as she strode

determinedly toward the chambers of the emperor, her cold face set in a horrible

grimace. Dawn had not yet touched the deep indigo skies of the lands without and it

would be an hour or more until it was fully day. Voren would not appreciate any

interruption of his studies this early in the day, but Nyea had little concern for his

feelings on the issue and what she had to say could not wait another hour.

She shook her head, her expression bleak. The Demor sent to track the girl

had failed in their duty, slain by the one with the shadowed face whom she could

not see. It bothered her that such essential things like the identity of this killer

remained clouded. Nothing remained hidden from her, no secret or happening, yet

even with the powers of the Glass to see the events as they played out, she could not

make out the identity of the girl’s protector, someone who had not only disposed of

the hunters, but shrugged off the power of their magic with not even so much as a

lingering sickness to show for it.

If such things did not anger her enough, the news she had received but a few

minutes past had certainly done the job. She tightened her hands into fists. The

nerve of that fool!

She flung open the doors of the chambers belonging to Voren, dark eyes

coming to rest on the servant standing motionless before her. “Where is Lord

Voren?” she snapped, her expression of displeasure deepening as the girl hesitated

with her answer. “Speak quickly girl or you will lose your tongue since you do not

seem to have need of it!”

“He…he is not here...” the servant stuttered quickly. “He, ah… left sometime

this morning, but he might have come back. You could try his study...” Nyea turned

back down the narrow hall without waiting for the woman to finish. The sun had

not yet risen and most of the corridors remained deserted. A few of the servants

wandering the passages on the way to their errands looked up at her as she went

past, but their initial curiosity turned quickly to avoidance as they caught sight of

the look on her face.

She climbed the long flight of stairs winding up the spire on the east side of

the castle that held the king’s study, the collection of books and archives that lined

the walls standing out in sharp contrast to the array of weapons also mounted

there.

The emperor looked up as she entered, his face darkening as she slammed

shut the door behind her, releasing a buffet of wind that knocked the neat stacks of

papers on the small desk askew. The person sitting beside Voren rose to his feet,

just barely old enough to be called a man with deep blue eyes that drilled ruthlessly

into her now. The emperor put a hand out as if to restrain him, his tone chilling.

“You forget yourself Nyea. Show some respect, or must you have it forced into you?”

The emperor stated, his gaze flat with only the slight narrowing of his eyes giving

evidence of his irritation.

The seer’s face tightened, her striking features losing their beauty in the

terrible rage that twisted her face. “You will get no apologies from me Voren! We

both know of the vicious cycle of events that was put into play by your actions in

Terrinth. Here you sit up in your high and lofty tower studying useless plans and

schemes while your empire shall soon fall down around your head if nothing

happens to change these occurrences!”

“The Hunters have been dispatched. I will soon have the stone back within

my possession. Your threats hold no meaning to me, unless there is something new

of which you have come to inform me?”

“Fool! Your hunters lie dead! The stone is on its way to the citadel in Venir

and the air whispers of the crumbling of your empire beneath our very feet!”

He frowned in displeasure, his dark eyes shining like pieces of black flint in

the faint torchlight that lit the room. “What have you seen?”

She laughed, the sound biting and hard. “It is as I have said. Your Demor

came across the thief last evening and caught her in a valley on her way through

the Pass of Zoul, but she was not alone. Your hunters, inept as they are, may have

succeeded in killing the child were this not so, but as it was, the girl’s companion

killed them first.” She scoffed. “The two of them made short work of your prized

assassins and now continue on to their vile city unhindered. You would know this

yourself if you only paid attention to what lies right in front of you, but instead I

hear you’ve been down in the badlands consulting with that pathetic swindler

Rowin Grey. You dare insult me by ignoring my visions and asking after the

demented sight of that hag! Anyone else I would order slain for such an offence!”

“Calm yourself woman, and remember to whom you speak.” Voren said

coldly, his expression never changing. “Now, who is this second person that

managed to slay my hunters, and why is it that you are so troubled by their

presence? I see the irritation in your eyes and I think perhaps that you do not know,

do you? Perhaps Rowin is not the one whose vision has become clouded.”

Nyea hissed, her eyes filled with venom as she glared at the man before her.

“You will have your answers soon enough my lord.” she sneered, her mouth twisting

around the last word. “But you walk on dangerous ground, even for one so powerful

as yourself. One day your shell of confidence shall crumble, as will the rest of your

empire if you do not learn to listen to my words!”

She marched away, head held high as she descended the flights of stairs to

the main floor. She called to mind her earlier vision, the meaning of the images

unmistakable. The predawn light washed through the open window and flooded the

chamber as she re-entered her rooms. She waved her hand over the murky waters

of the basin standing in the center of the room, muttering under her breath as she

conjured once more the vision of her quarry. She stared intently downward at the

mirrored surface and watched once more the battle between the hunters and the

two who opposed them. The shadowy figure stood out to her, his face clouded and

indistinct. The person was dangerous. Their lack of identity could not hide what lay

within. She drew away from the waters and thought of what was yet to be.

That fool Voren would never get back the Xerkzes stone. He was too busy

commanding his armies and stroking his ego to realize that the girl was much more

than she appeared. She was Falir Al Tear, and perhaps a formidable opponent, but

the sorceress had killed other Keepers before; this time would be no different. As for

the other... She would find her answers before she killed him, for magic or no, he

stood no chance against her. The two would be in Faelyon two days from now to

restock on supplies and meet the person who would reveal their path, but this time,

she would be waiting.

She reached for her cloak, the thick satin wrapping tightly about her. First to

take care of things here, then she would find the little thief and her accomplice and

prove to the emperor who really held the power here.

* * * * *

Voren watched calmly as Nyea Aterre stormed angrily away, her face a mask

of fury as she strode purposefully out of sight. His son stared uncertainly up at him

from his seat at the table, his features mirroring his father’s except for the deep

blue eyes and stubborn set of his jaw that had belonged to his mother. “Why did you

go to the other seer if you knew it would only anger her? What was the purpose of it

all?”

The ruler turned to face the young man, his face emotionless. “Because, she

will take care of the problem of the Xerkzes stone now that it has ensnared her. If I

had simply told her to go retrieve the talisman after her servant told me of how she

had seen events play out, she would not have done it.” He looked contemptuously at

the empty doorway. “The woman is a thorn in my side, but I cannot deny her

talents. She will take care of our little thief and this new stranger better than any of

my hunters could. Sometimes it requires more than just commands to get things

done, Dreith. You must learn this if you are to be emperor after me.”

His son nodded respectfully, seeing now what he had missed before. “And I

don't expect we will be having any more problems from the wild tales spread by

Rowin and her visions?”

Voren laughed, a faint smile lighting the corners of his mouth. “She will be

dead before the day is out.”

* * * * *

Seth rode with his eyes half closed through the still dark landscape of the

mountains, Viera shooting him surreptitious glances when she thought he wasn’t

looking. They had ridden on through the night, for neither had wanted to stop after

the encounter with the men known as the Demor, but the strain of staying awake

for so long was beginning to wear on him.

He could still hear the woman’s scream as his magic had struck her, the

sound reverberating inside of his sleep-starved mind in a haunting melody that

persisted despite his best efforts to silence it. He remembered clearly the dark

feelings that the violence had generated, the energy coming out in an erratic burst

and then fading away to emptiness as Seth saw the look of horror reflected in the

wide-eyed gaze of his victim.

He had reacted on instinct after he had felt her attack close over him, the

biting cold sinking into him as the magic enveloped him, draining his energy and

freezing his soul. The magic that had risen in response had come of its own volition,

responding to his need and cutting through the unseen shackles that held him as

easily as a knife through paper. He could feel the cruel malevolence contained

within the magic as the energy had filled him, his anger driving it into the woman

across from him in a foul covering of unspeakable horror.

He had been connected to her as she died, felt the draining away of her life as

the black magic ate away at her insides, leaving nothing but an empty shell. The

Nocturne had felt it as well, that was why she had reacted as she did. It made him

sick just to think about it, the foulness of it all. Even knowing she was evil, it had

still been wrong to employ that kind of power against anyone. He had not explained

to Viera what had happened, hadn’t even consider revealing to her the dark secret

that was his. She was a Keeper of the Light, a warrior of Venir; dark magic was

probably not something she would take too kindly to.

He stared blankly ahead, his thoughts taking on a slightly melancholy note

as he reflected upon the night he had first discovered the magic. Such a thing was

not something to be sought out and it had been an ugly surprise when he had first

unearthed it. He had known of the magic for many years now, having used it once

before, but he had done his best to forget that incident and may have very well

succeeded had it not all come back to haunt him now. The dark energy was not

something that he had learned, and he shuddered to think that anyone would want

to. It was a power that had been inside him since the day he was born, an inherited

evil he would be far better without.

The animal beneath him gave a loud moan, the red eyes gleaming

unnervingly from underneath the hair of its mane. “They’re getting tired.” Viera

stated, gesturing toward the restless mounts. “The Demor must have ridden them

without stopping to catch up to us as fast as they did.” She glanced up at him from

out of her saddle, her green eyes bright with concern. “And you yourself don’t look

so great either. You haven’t slept in nearly two days.”

He glanced at the horizon. “It’s only about two hours till dawn. If we start off

again at noon, we’ll leave the mountains sometime late tomorrow. Then of course,

we'll have to start worrying about food.”

Viera sighed, “I don't suppose you have a bow and a few well fletched arrows

on you? Food wouldn’t be a problem if you did, but there’s not much I can do with a

couple of Seraphen daggers, and it’s pretty hard to hunt with a sword.”

He looked searchingly at the dense brush of the pass, looking for a good place

to set up camp. They left the valley floor and rode under the spreading branches

running over a dirt rutted path, the dense cover provided by the trees a better

choice than lying out in the open. The path ended abruptly at a dark pool of water,

the inky black liquid lying placid and calm at the base of a tall stretch of rock.

Seth climbed down from his saddle and moved over to the pool, something

about it perking his curiosity and drawing him forward. He stared down at the

silvery waters, his own reflection dancing across the surface in front of him.

Suddenly the picture before him began to blur and another formed to take its place.

He saw a woman, her eyes a deep blue that reflected a poignant sadness as they

came to meet his own. Her skin was like porcelain and her expression was one of

deep regret as she regarded him. He felt a mix of both sadness and confusion as he

examined the person reflected in the waters and it seemed to him that she met his

gaze, staring back at him with a strange intensity with aspects of her features

mirroring his own. The picture shifted and a scene began to play out before him.

The subjects stood arguing in a dim room, stone walls reflecting the light of the

hearth. A man stood yelling in the center of the chamber, hand moving toward the

small figure who stood before him in the form of an open-handed slap. The blow

landed with a resounding crack and sent the woman sprawling to the floor, the boy

at the back of the room rushing forward to aid her…

Seth drew away from the waters, staring disconcerted at the pool before him.

He knew the scene the pond had shown. It was something he had blocked from his

mind years ago, something he had hoped he would never have to remember. As for

the woman...

Viera had dismounted from her horse and come to stand beside him, her

bright green eyes taking in the expression on his face. “What is it?”

He shook his head, nodding towards the pool. “See for yourself.”

She went forward hesitantly. “There’s nothing there but a reflection. I don’t

see...” she jumped back with a gasp, her face going white as she backed away. He

saw nothing, but he hadn’t really expected to, as the images it showed seemed to be

only for the person looking into it. “A Looking Glass.” Viera breathed. “I didn’t think

that any remained outside of the citadels. We have one in the temple at Venir,

though not many use it because of what they might see.”

“What does it do?”

“Many things. Sometimes it reveals events that are taking place in the world,

others show dangers that await you or important decisions that are yet to come, but

mostly they reflect pieces of the past, things hidden in your mind that weigh heavily

on your life. That’s why only the older Keepers are allowed to use it. The images of

our past and history can often be quite...unsettling.”

“What did you see?” he asked softly, her face just beginning to regain its

color.

Her eyes lowered, fixed once more upon the depths before her. “I saw Venir

burning.” She breathed. “I saw what will happen if I fail.” She shifted her gaze to

him, “It is unusual to see things of the future in the Glass, but I suppose it’s also

strange to find one in the middle of nowhere just out in the open.” She gazed at him

searchingly. “I saw you pull away, but you did not look frightened, more... uneasy.

What did you see?”

He shook his head. “I can’t be sure who it was. I saw a woman. She was

staring up at me and I get the feeling that I know her from somewhere, but I can't

remember ever meeting her.” Seth was careful to leave out the last part of the

vision, the one that he had recognized, but he saw no harm in sharing the first. He

frowned. “It’s strange, but somehow I feel that whoever she was, she died a long

time ago, and I think maybe it had something to do with me.”

“Many things of the past are revealed through the glass, especially for one so

lost as yourself.” They both spun around at the sound of the foreign voice, regarding

the slight figure standing motionless in the woods behind them with a mix of

surprise and wariness. Seth grasped his sword tightly in one hand, staring

suspiciously at the stranger who confronted them. She was an old woman, her hair

a cap of snowy white falling to her shoulders over folds of yellowed skin, the gray

eyes fixing on him from beneath the maze of creases that lined her face. “Do not be

alarmed. I do not harm the Keepers of the Light, nor those that travel with them.

Though if I were you girl, I would be more cautious, carrying something as precious

as that stone.”

“Who are you?” Viera demanded, the silver blade of a Seraphen knife

clutched tightly in her hand.

The woman smiled. “I am Elise, keeper of these woods, watcher of the waters

and caretaker of the mountains, just as my mother was and my grandmother before

her.”

“Where did you come from?” Seth asked uncertainly, eyeing the woman with

a sense of building unease.

She laughed. “You need not be so edgy, children. I live in these woods in a

cottage passed down through the generations of my family. I roam the grounds near

dawn each day to fulfil my duties in its upkeep. You did not think something as

precious as a Looking Glass would be without an owner, did you?”

Viera cast Seth a brief questioning glance before shifting her gaze back to the

woman before them. “If we did choose to believe you, Elise, what reason would you

have for coming over here and showing yourself to us when you could have just as

easily let us pass without ever knowing you were there?”

Elise smiled. “Many are drawn to the Glass to reveal to them their path in

life. It gets very lonely in these woods out here on my own without anyone else to

share my duties. Even with all the animals to keep me company, there are still

times when I crave the company of others. I have no need to hide from those who

enter my home, so why not talk to them, for it is interesting to see what destiny has

drawn them here.” Her eyes crinkled slightly, her wizened face stretching into a

smile. “There has not been a Keeper here in many years. The last was a woman by

the name of Avandera, she came here on a quest to find the soldiers of shadow who

had entered the area. She did not tell me what she saw in the Glass, but it was that

vision that compelled her to return to her home rather than stay and pursue the

men of Nocturne as she had intended.”

Viera widened her eyes, obviously recognizing both the name and the subject

of the story. “The group she was tracking returned to the Lands of Night after they

realized she was on their trail.” The Keeper murmured. “She came home a week

early without explanation and managed to slay one who had found his way inside

the citadel at Venir and was planning to destroy it from within.” she shook her

head. “She did not say how she knew, only that ‘the waters had spoken true and

fate acted as it will.’ This was years ago when I was but a child. I don’t believe you

could know of it unless you are telling the truth.”

Seth did not object to the statement, but he couldn’t help but tighten his grip

on the sword in his hand as the woman moved steadily closer, her sharp eyes

looking past them to the pool of water. “Most who come here leave knowing what it

is they must do. They become enlightened, and are aware finally of the truths that

have evaded them, but it is not so with you two I sense. I cannot see what is to

come, nor would I wish for such a gift, but I can feel the changes that are carried on

the wind. You two shine with destiny. You most of all.” she stated, her eyes shifting

to fix on Seth. “He who knows so little of the past shall change the future.”

Seth did not change expression, but a sudden apprehension grew inside of

him as he listened to the words. I am no one important. He thought stubbornly. My

destiny is my own. Viera stood calmly beside him, the knife having disappeared

back beneath her cloak. “What of the visions we saw in the pool? Why did we see the

things we did rather than the truths and warnings it usually shows?”

The woman regarded them both solemnly. “Each man’s vision is theirs to do

with as they wish, but do not forget what you have seen. These waters are not like

the regular Glasses you may have seen; they are sacred, and they show only things

that will have great impacts on a life. Do not forget.” A wasted hand came up in a

gesture toward Viera. “Be at peace Keeper, and let Light guide you on this path as

you walk.”

Viera performed a similar motion in acknowledgement. “And may you rest in

grace as you continue to protect and to serve.”

The woman strode slowly away, her face calm and serene as she left. Viera

reached up to unsaddle the horses, but Seth shook his head. “Not here.” he stated

firmly, his gaze shifting to find hers. “We'll find a place to stay the night elsewhere.”

They retraced their steps to a small outcropping of trees, the pale light of

dawn already beginning to lighten the sky. Seth pulled his cloak tightly about him,

his mind filled with the image of the woman he had seen in the waters of the basin.

He knew her from somewhere; of that he was certain, but he could not remember

who she was or why she was important any more than he could remember what had

happened to his parents. His eyes slipped slowly shut, exhaustion overtaking him

as he settled down to sleep. Small voices of doubt whispered inside of his head as he

slumbered, warnings of the darkness that was yet to come.

* * * * *

Chapter VII

Weight of the Past

Heavy eyelids slid slowly open, the orange light of the setting sun

forcing Viera to squint against the harsh glare as she sat up. Seth lay motionless

beside her, his face unwaveringly serious even in sleep. She peered out through the

small outcropping of trees to the mountains beyond, the white capped peaks painted

in shades of orange and pink by the slowly disappearing sun.

They had slept longer than they had intended, but after such a strenuous day

she supposed it was a good thing. If Seth was right in his judgement, they would be

in Faelyon by the end of tomorrow and once there they could hire a ship to take

them across the channel into the borderlands surrounding Venir.

Viera sat upright and unfastened the top of her pack, peering inside the worn

leather casing and sighing in resignation at what she found there. They had used

up most of their supplies in the week it had taken them to get this far, and the

packs were now empty except for a spare blanket and a few other trinkets that did

nothing to quiet the growl of her empty stomach. She walked over to a small

sapling, sawing off a long length of the trunk with her knife and focusing her mind

to send forth tendrils of energy. She smoothed the sides of the stick and engraved it

with sigils that would protect it against breaking as well as give it a longer range

than even a bow that stretched the full length of a man rather than the waist high

height of the weapon in her hands. Runes in and of themselves were not what made

a weapon magical, but all Keepers used them because they sealed and maintained

each of the spells woven, binding it to the weapon and carrying out the intended

function. She bent the wood backward, stringing it with a long length of twine and

looking down at her work. It wasn’t perfect, but it would suffice.

“Not bad.” a wry voice remarked. “But I'm pretty sure it’s cheating to use

magic.”

She glanced over at the boy sitting behind her, his black hair ruffled from

sleep. “Do you want to eat or not? We could do this without the use of any form of

magic, but good luck getting the arrows to fly more than a few meters.”

His mouth quirked up at the corners, the closest thing to a smile she had

seen from him. She continued on with her work, forging a dozen or so arrows from

spare pieces of wood and feathers gathered from around the forest.

She stalked off into the wood, leaving him alone in the small clearing. She

was not quite sure how she felt about him. She trusted him well enough, especially

since he had risked himself to save her, but there were many things about him that

she found disconcerting. She knew next to nothing about him other than his name

and his apparent trouble with the law, but she had a feeling that if she did learn

about his past, it wouldn’t be a very pleasant story. The remorseful look in his eyes

whenever he mentioned it told her it was not something he liked to think about. The

thing that disturbed her most of all was what had happened in the valley during the

confrontation with the Demor. The strange way he had shrugged off their attack

and the shadowy energy that had killed the woman all stunk of dark magic. There

was no way she could know for sure of course, but her training told her that her

suspicions were correct.

She shook her head angrily, her mind going back to the task at hand. Only

the Nocturne used such magic, and whatever he was, he was not evil. A bird passed

by overhead, wide silver-banded wings making it an easy target. She loosed an

arrow, the shaft flying smoothly through the air and striking the bird in a small

explosion of feathers. She strode over to her kill, feeling a wave of sadness as she

stared down at the small body. She plucked the arrow from its breast, walking back

toward the camp and shooting another along the way.

Seth looked up as she entered the clearing, the light of the fire glowing softly

in the center of the camp and sending waves of color dancing across the surface of

the sword laying crosswise on his lap. He glanced passingly at the two birds

hanging at her side. “I see you were successful. I didn't think Keepers liked killing

anything not of the dark.”

She looked down at the bodies, a sigh escaping her lips. “Liking and acting

when necessary are two different things. Unless you want to starve to death of

course.”

They plucked the birds and set them to cook over the low flame. The twilight

sky was colored a deep purple that reminded Viera of the night sky in Venir. She

glanced over at the sword Seth had placed atop his cloak, the silver hilt engraved

with twisting vines surrounding the head of a lion that was the sign of the

Whitewoods, a noble family that had fallen out of favor in the cities to the south.

“It’s a beautiful blade.” she remarked softly. “I’ve never seen its like except in

pictures.”

Seth did not respond, staring morosely into the flickering flames. “It isn’t

mine. It belonged to a man named Therin Whitewood. I lived with him... for a time.

I guess you could say he was like a father to me. He kept that sword after his father

died in battle.”

She scanned his face, the immense sadness that had filled his eyes when he

spoke of it making her wish she hadn’t mentioned it. “What happened to him?”

He looked up at her, hesitating for a moment before replying. “He was

murdered. Murdered because he wanted justice.” he paused for a second, his eyes

distant. Then his eyes shifted to find hers once more, seeming to come to a decision.

“Nine months ago, he persuaded the king to arrest a group of men working on

behalf of a powerful lord to, let’s just say, frighten people into doing what he

wanted. As captain of the guard, he gathered proof of this and presented it to King

Gabriel Sadar. The man was then denounced of his title and striped of power for his

crimes. Two weeks later, assassins came to the manor in the night and killed

Therin in his sleep, burning the house to the ground with all the servants and

workers still inside. I got out before it was too late and caught up with one of the

assassins while they were still torching the house. I couldn’t do anything to stop

them; the fire had spread too far, but I did manage to learn who had hired them. I

tracked the man for months through every city, striping him of confidence and

watching him crumple into a frightened drunk, looking over his shoulder every step

as he tried in vain to find the thing that stalked him. One week ago, I caught up to

him in the city of Cammen. Once nightfall came, I came up to him in his sleep just

as he had done to my father.”

She remained impassive as the implication behind his words sunk in, already

knowing what he was going to say. “You killed him, didn’t you? That was why the

guards were after you and that’s what you were talking about when you said you

didn’t want any more blood on your hands.”

He took his time replying, his gaze focused once more into the fiery depths of

the hearth. “I don’t regret killing him. For the things he did to my father and to

countless others he deserved much worse than what I gave him. Still, that doesn’t

seem to change the nausea I can’t help feeling every time I look at this blade. The

same feeling I get when I think of the vacant look on that woman’s face when I

killed her.”

She shook her head. “Why are you telling me this now? You didn't seem to

want to tell me much of anything before, now all of a sudden you change your

mind...Why?”

“What I saw in the Glass last night... It just got me thinking about the past

and everything that’s happened. All these secrets, they bear a weight. I don't know

why I feel I need to go with you to Venir. By all rights I should never have come in

the first place, but... I know somehow that I can’t just leave. If we’re going to be

travelling together, you have a right to know these things and now you do.” His eyes

lifted to meet hers once more, the dark orbs seeming to see into her soul. “Now you

know me for what I really am. I can’t change what I did and even if I could, I

wouldn’t. You can go on alone to Venir if you wish. It only makes sense that you

would. Maybe I was wrong in coming here at all.”

She stared at him with unwavering conviction, her green eyes burning with

calm determination. “I already knew who you really were that night you saved me

from the Hunters. Don't expect me to just get up and leave when I still need you to

reach Venir. You aren’t a murderer Seth. Like I said, killing and liking killing are

different things. You can get up and leave right this moment if you wish, but I won’t

be the one to tell you to go.”

He stared at her, an expression of slight surprise disturbing the usual icy

calm that lay over him. “I’ll stay.” he said softly. “After all, I can’t exactly leave you

in the middle of the mountains alone. You’d never find your way out”

They ate their meal in silence, Viera fingering the gold necklace hanging

around her neck. The sword remained sitting on the ground beside them, an empty

relic dismissed from her mind and resigned to the past.

* * * * *

Chapter VIII

Defining Mark

The sun shone brightly in the noonday sky, the landscape of the

mountains fading away as they neared the remote city of Faelyon. They had stayed

the night in the clearing, recovering their strength for the long trek ahead and

setting out a few hours before dawn the next morning. They had both agreed that it

was better to rejoin the road before entering the city since it would raise fewer

questions and there was no longer any immediate threat from the Demor or the

other forces of the empire that may still be tracking them. They had also come to

the realization that they could not keep the Voterre horses, which was just as well

for Seth as the blood-red eyes always seemed to follow him with an implacable

anger that unnerved him greatly. They had left the stallions in the woods where the

strange woman known as Elise was sure to find them. The people of Faelyon would

definitely not take well to strangers riding the creatures of the empire that had

brought down many a soldier in the wars against the Lands of Night.

Seth walked confidently through the rough yellowed grass that dotted the

slopes of the valleys leading toward Faelyon, setting a fast pace that should get

them easily inside the city before sunset. Despite their alacrity however, it was

already late in the afternoon by the time they reached the main road. They emerged

from the brush onto the road, Viera’s dark face appearing behind him, as she stared

inquisitively out at the worn gravel road winding up the mountain before them. He

motioned for her to wait, sitting on a worn stump by the side of the road as he

stared intently back toward the trail leading away from the city. Viera stepped out

onto the main road, fiddling idly with the end of the long ponytail running down her

back as she scanned the empty track.

She shifted her gaze to his face, her voice factual and cool as she spoke.

“What exactly are we waiting for? Now probably isn’t a good time to rest when we’re

so close to the city and daylight is almost gone.”

He didn’t bother to look at her, his face expressionless as he continued to

stare down the trail. “Be patient. Someone’s coming who will take us to Faelyon

faster than we could get there on foot.” She opened her mouth to reply when the

faint pounding of hooves sounded down the track, the footfalls sending up clouds of

dust as the carriage made its way down the track.

She stared at him uncertainly, her forehead crinkling with doubt. “How do

you do that?”

“Do what?”

“You did the same thing with the Demor. You knew they were following us

even before we caught sight of them. There was no way you could have heard that

wagon from so far off.”

He shrugged impassively. “Sometimes I can feel things; that’s all I can say.

I’m not sure exactly how to explain it. I just felt that they would be there and they

were. I told you before, I can do a lot of things that would surprise you.”

The man driving the carriage slowed to a halt as he caught sight of them.

Seth glanced over at Viera expectantly, and she frowned briefly before smoothing

the front of her clothes and putting on a winsome smile. “Excuse me,” she said

slowly. “I was wondering if you could help us. Our horses ran off when we stopped

to rest a few hours ago and we wondered if you could take us to Faelyon.” The man

bit his lip uncertainly, but Viera continued unhindered. “I wouldn’t want to cause

you any trouble of course, but I wouldn’t like to be caught out in the mountains once

it’s dark...”

The man cut in quickly, his face growing worried. “Oh no miss, it’s alright.

My master might be a little stingy about it, but I wouldn’t just leave a young lady

such as yourself stranded in the wilderness at night.” Seth smiled silently to

himself, as he listened to the man stumbling over himself. It looked like they had a

ride to Faelyon after all.

The door leading to the interior of the carriage swung open and a richly clad

man stepped out, his voice irritatingly condescending as he spoke. “Why are we

stopped? I did not pay you to meander along the road while I have business that

must be...” he stopped as he caught sight of the two gathered on the side of the road,

his eyes taking in Viera’s rich if somewhat tattered clothes, while his eyes skipped

right over Seth as if he weren’t there. “Oh, I didn’t see you. Why are you out here

anyway? It seems...”

“My name is Arem and this is my sister’s friend Camille.” Seth cut in, using

common names of people from the cities farther south near Cammen. “I was taking

her to visit an old friend in Faelyon when our horses ran off.”

“Yes.” Viera sighed sadly, and Seth fought the impulse to roll his eyes as the

young noble’s attentions shifted immediately back to her. “It leaves us in quite a

predicament, but I can see why you wouldn’t want a pair of total strangers coming

with you to the city.”

“Don’t worry about it. I myself am going to a meeting arranged by my father

with a wealthy lord living just outside the city. It would be no trouble for you to

come with us.”

He led her into the coach and Seth placed their bags on top with the rest of

the supplies, hiding the sword and the strangely engraved bow under the other

supplies. The coachman eyed the package uneasily. “What have you got in there I

wonder? Seems awfully irregularly shaped for just food and blankets.”

Seth looked at him coolly, the weight of his gaze making the man squirm

uneasily. “Nothing special. A few trinkets, a hunting bow… Why, is there a

problem?”

“No problem sir.” the man muttered, shuffling back to the front of the wagon.

Seth climbed into the interior of the carriage across from Viera and the

nobleman, suppressing a sigh as the door closed shut behind him and the arrogant

prattling of the young lord filled the carriage. Viera nodded politely as the man

began talking of his family’s estate, exaggerating outrageously about the amount of

wealth he possessed and the level of importance his business negotiations held in

the cities. Despite the Keeper’s look of outward coolness, Seth could see the look of

exasperation growing behind her eyes as the man continued onward, switching from

one topic to another and not seeming concerned at all by how little anyone else

contributed to the conversation.

“I won many a contest in hunting in fact,” the man stated at one point,

oblivious to the faint grimace that twisted Viera’s mouth. “Many lack the courage

necessary to trap the more ferocious beasts such as boar, but I myself have never

been afraid of a challenge.”

At that, Viera actually did roll her eyes, but the man was too absorbed in his

tale to notice. Seth shifted his gaze back to the nobleman and found to his irritation

that the man was still carrying on in his stories of hunting. “…it really was a very

close call that one.” The man stated. “but very thrilling too, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Viera began, her fake smile still in place, though it had grown

considerably more tight than it had been to begin with. “I’m sure it was.”

“Of course, Faelyon is a much fiercer place than Kaleth and Selceir. Perhaps I

should accompany you for a little while longer once we reach the city. You might

need some sort of protection.”

Seth arched an eyebrow at the small weasely man across from him, but the

man’s eyes were focussed purely on Viera, whose pleasant expression had just about

crumbled under the look of pure horror that entered her eyes upon hearing of the

man’s proposal. “Ah… I doubt that will be necessary.” She murmured.

“You need not worry that it would inconvenience me.” The lord replied

pompously. “The city is still a ways away yet and you still have some time to think

it over.”

A silent curse formed on Viera’s lips as she turned to stare out the window

and it was with an effort that Seth hid his smile.

They arrived at the gates of the Faelyon just before sunset, the city

surprisingly large for such a secluded place. Seth climbed out of the coach and

retrieved the bags from the top of the carriage, Viera following not far behind him.

The young noble offered them a place to stay, saying he would enjoy the pleasure of

Viera’s company for a while longer, but she graciously refused, moving after Seth

into the densely packed crowds of the city.

She exhaled in relief as the carriage vanished over the edge of the hills, the

polished white wood of the coach disappearing from sight. “I thought he was going

to insist I stay. I swear that man is so oblivious that he wouldn’t notice something

until it struck him in the face! Not to mention the arrogance.”

Seth smiled. “You know it’s your own fault for acting so helpless. One more of

those pretty little eye flutters and I think he might have married you.”

She glared at him, her eyes narrowing to slits. “I did not bat my eyes at him. I

was simply trying to be persuasive. You were the one who said we needed a ride.

Though, it wasn’t really necessary the way I see it. We could have just walked. ”

Seth shook his head, his face becoming serious once more. “The border patrol

doesn’t take kindly to strange people arriving in the city in the middle of the night.

Besides, the whole reason the city needs a border patrol is because there are dark

things that hunt these slopes at night. I’m sure we could have managed them, but

you can’t escape a battle with things like that unscathed.”

She nodded reluctantly. “The inns should be near the inner city. I suggest we

get a room before dark.” They moved through the narrow paved streets, the number

of people pushing against them sharply declining as the sun sunk lower and the air

grew more chill.

A colorful sign caught Seth’s eye as they moved deeper into the heart of the

city. The tavern was a small establishment lying out of the way of the main street.

The worn sign flapping in the wind depicted a bird of prey, yellow eyes glaring out

at the passer-by. Falcon’s Creed, it read. He did not know why the name stuck in his

mind but he moved toward it nevertheless, Viera following close behind. They

entered the common room of the inn, the place nearly deserted except for an odd

gathering of people sitting bent low over their drinks. One woman sitting alone at a

table looked up as they entered, blue-gray eyes widening slightly in surprise before

she looked away from them, pulling her dark cloak more tightly about her. Seth

frowned uncertainly at the woman, the long locks of blue-black hair that fell out

from beneath her hood streaked through with lines of gray.

The innkeeper came up to them as they entered, weathered face lined with

fatigue as he wove through the maze of tables to where they were standing. Seth

took in his pale brown hair and simple clothes and took him to be someone from

farther south rather than the people of the mountains who had fair coloring and

wore hard leathers or thick furs depending on the season. “How many rooms?” the

owner questioned lightly. “We have plenty open as not many come here, preferring

the cheaper or more posh places in the south end.”

“Two.” Seth said simply. “One for me and one for her.”

“Anything else? Or will you just be going straight upstairs.”

“No,” Seth stated, glancing over at Viera for confirmation “I think we’ll stay

down here awhile.”

The innkeeper shuffled off, giving them directions to their rooms on the

second floor of the building. Seth sat with Viera at a table near the back of the

room, the two eating their dinner in silence. Seth cast frequent glances at the other

residents of the common room, unable to shake the feeling that someone was

watching him.

Viera looked up in surprise near the end of their meal and he followed her

gaze to the woman who strode confidently across the room toward the table where

they sat, peeling back the hood of her robe to reveal a fair angular face, lined faintly

with the passing of youth that put her somewhere in her early forties. “You look like

someone I knew once.” she stated, talking casually despite their threatening

glances, her eyes never leaving Seth’s face. “Who are you and why have you come

here? If you are here at Voren’s bidding boy, you need not have bothered. I refuted

my involvement in the war years ago, so there is no reason that the emperor should

have any lingering interest in me.”

Seth frowned, Viera answering before he had a chance to reply. “I’m not sure

who you think we are, but you have no right to be prying into things that you have

no right to know. We are not here out of any interest in you, and we most certainly

have nothing to do with the emperor. Now, I think you should leave.”

The woman sat calmly as if she had not heard her, eyes taking in the pendant

hanging around Viera’s neck. “A Keeper. I must say I am surprised. The Falir Al

Tear do not usually come to cities such as Faelyon, especially not those of high

blood.” Seth listened uncomprehendingly to the remark, keeping his face impassive

as he studied the woman and catching sight of the odd way she picked at the leather

gloves covering her hands. “I thought at first that you were from the empire, sent by

Voren to exact punishment for my desertion, but no...not a Venishian Keeper. You

cannot fake the aura that surrounds all those who serve the Light.”

She carefully removed the black gloves that covered her pale slim hands and

Viera gasped, her eyes locking on the tattoo of a black moon marked along the

inside of the woman’s wrist, a silver raven spreading over its surface. She reached

quickly for her dagger, but the woman just shook her head and she slowed

uncertainly. “Do you really think I would have showed you such a mark if I meant

you any harm? I would have to be the most foolish of the emperor’s servants, and I

am neither a fool, nor an abettor of that cretin. Besides, pulling a Seraphen blade in

a town burned down once by Keepers because of the dark agents these people

harbored wouldn’t exactly incite a warm welcome from the city’s inhabitants.” Viera

glanced around at the people in the room, their eyes drifting toward them, drawn by

the sudden motion from her hand.

Seth cut into the conversation, his regular calm giving way to confusion at

the strange turn of events that he still did not completely understand. “What does

the mark mean?” he questioned. “And why would you think we were from the

empire?”

Viera’s gaze shifted to find him, some of the ferocity going out of her eyes,

though her hand did not stray from the hilt of the knife concealed beneath her

clothes. “She bears the mark of Lilith,” Viera explained. “showing her to be a

telepath in service to the royal house of Nocturne.” Seth glanced back at the woman

across from him, her relaxed manor suddenly seeming to be more threatening.

The woman shook her head sadly, ignoring the dangerous look in the

Keeper’s eyes. “We all bear our defining marks girl. This is a branding of the past. I

gave up service to the dark throne years ago when a friend very dear to me died

trying to escape it. The breaking of the bond however, cost me my gift. The ability

burned out of me in a painful experience I do not care to remember. Though a sense

of certain feelings still remains, the type of power to break minds and the other

abilities of which you are wary are long gone. I present no threat to you Keeper. I

wander in exile, far away from the prying eyes of those who would be happy to see

me dead.”

Seth’s eyes bored into her, curiosity and wariness mingling inside of him as

he listened to her words. “You still haven’t answered my question.” he said coldly,

not liking the strange expression that crept over her face whenever she looked at

him.

“You share the features of those born in the Lands of Night,” she stated, “and,

like I said, you look very much like someone I knew.”

He continued to stare at her, not at all satisfied with the answer. “That still

doesn’t seem like a legitimate reason to come up to a few complete strangers and

start telling them exactly who you are, especially not if we really were hunting you.”

She met his gaze unflinching, “A very logical sentiment. Why indeed? Let me

ask you something; why are you carrying a dark talisman if you are not from the

empire after all?”

Viera glanced over at Seth, the shock that flooded her eyes betraying her

facade of calm. Seth’s face hardened, “I don’t know who you are or what you want,

but we don’t have to tell you anything. I’m sure the guards would be pleased to hear

that there is a Nocturne telepath inside their city after they’ve had such unpleasant

dealings with you in the past.”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “Threats now is it? But you don’t seem to be

worried by me in the slightest.” She smiled faintly, her gray-blue eyes softening

slightly. “You sounded just like her there. She never was one to give in to demands.”

Seth frowned uncertainly. “Who is she?”

“Your mother. I suspected as much, but I had to talk to you before I could

confirm it. Hints of her are evident in your features, though they are subtle. It is

mainly in the way you speak and your character that made me certain. You share

her strength, of that much there is no doubt. But she is not the one that someone

would connect you with if they did not know her as well as I did. No. The way you

sit here now, the icy calm that I always found so unnerving, even your eyes... I

swear, you look just like your father.”

He stiffened in surprise. Viera glanced between the two of them with a

sudden indecisiveness that he had not seen from her before. “How would you have

known my parents?” Seth demanded. “If you are from the Lands of Night, you could

not have been here long enough to...”

She shook her head. “You really never suspected this? I would think someone

would have told you before. I know your parents boy, because I grew up with your

mother. I was with her on her wedding day and I know your father all too well,

though unlike your mother, I feel no fondness towards him. I know them child,

because they were both born and raised in Nocturne, as was I.” Seth stared at her

incredulously and her brows knit together concernedly as she saw his reaction. “So

you really did not know then? I didn’t think you would know everything, but I

thought you must at least suspect...” she trailed off, her eyes distant. “I have

watched many horrors wrought by my people, some of them a direct result of my

knowledge and actions. The core of such evil lies within you I sense. That is why the

prophecy had such different outcomes. How many lives has the dark force taken I

wonder? You no doubt cannot easily control it. I can see it in your eyes that you at

least know of that. How did it feel to use such magic and have a life bleed away, and

how could you still never suspect the truth of your heritage after such an

experience?”

Seth rose to his feet, the chair scraping shrilly across the polished floor. Some

of the inn’s other patrons looked over at him, but he paid them no heed, his voice

deathly quiet as he spoke. “I do not know who sent you or why you’re here, but I am

not of the Nocturne and I have nothing to do with either you, or anyone of your

empire!” He stormed off, the people scattered at the tables around him turning

quickly away after seeing his expression. The words of the telepath rung hollowly

through Seth’s head as he saw once again the stricken face of the female Demor, her

tortured features intermingling with those of the man lying in a bloody, lifeless

heap on the floor all those years ago...

Seth shut the images away and continued up the stairs to his room. He

stopped in the hallway outside the small quarters he had rented and stood there for

a moment with his forehead pressed against the thick wood of the door, his head

spinning with a mix of denial and frustration at the small voice that danced inside

of his mind telling him that every word of it was true. He opened his eyes slowly,

Viera’s anxious face appearing at his shoulder. “Was she telling the truth?” she

asked half accusingly and he shook his head, his tone weary and resigned.

“I don’t know. If she was, I never knew about it. My parents... I never knew

them, but that they were citizens of Nocturne, or maybe worse... No, I don’t believe

that. I’ve lived all my life in the south. I’ve never even been anywhere near the

Lands of Night. Whatever her reasons, she was lying. How she knew what she did...

She is a telepath after all. Still....” He looked over at Viera, his gaze searching. “Do

you believe it? You know more than I do about the people of Nocturne, and you saw

what happened that night with the Demor.” he sighed, remembering suddenly the

events in Kaleth a week past. “A guard in Kaleth thought I was part of the group of

Demor that was hunting you. He said he knew how to recognize an Aterre’Ro when

he saw one. What does that mean?”

Viera hesitated before answering, her face growing pale. “Aterre’Ro is an old

term meaning Dark Hand, one of the Sur’Aterre who serve the emperor. It is a

reference to the warriors of Nocturne and those that fight for the empire.”

Seth squeezed his eyes shut, unable to find a way to deny things anymore in

the face of the obvious truth. “So then the whole reason you’re here with me now is

to bring your people a tool that can prevent my people, from continuing their reign

of destruction. My parents were willing servants of the tyrant trying to kill all of us

and I… Hell, I have the very dark magic that makes the Nocturne so evil.”

“Seth, you can’t...”

“Evil, Viera! You said it yourself. The Nocturne are just cruel by nature, all of

them! There are no exceptions. I am no different from any of them!” He cut off

suddenly without finishing his tirade, realizing somewhat belatedly that he had

been shouting.

Viera shook her head stubbornly. “Just because there’s a possibility that you

are a descendent of the Nocturne does not make you inherently evil, Seth.”

“It’s more than just a possibility Viera, and you know it. Besides, inheriting

something as dark as the magic and using it against people to...” he shook his head.

“It seems pretty evil to me. Why are the Keepers against all Nocturne and not just

the armies of the empire? Because you can’t be good when you have something so

dark living inside of you!”

“You’re being foolish. You’ve been good this long. Discovering this won’t turn

you evil.”

“That’s the thing, I'm not good. I’ve done things... dark things, that only work

to prove the taint that falls on everyone of such blood.” He laughed bitterly, the

irony of the situation too much to escape. “You’re a Keeper of the Light, Viera!

You’re supposed to destroy dark magic wielders and those who serve the empire, yet

here you are, travelling with a murderer born in the Lands of Night! You think your

people will appreciate having anyone of such heritage inside their walls? It probably

goes against just about every principle you have.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her off with a look that spoke of all

the tortured thoughts running through his mind. “I’m going to sleep. You’d be better

off if you were gone by the time I wake.” He slammed the door roughly behind him,

sinking down onto the bed and staring blankly out into the night.

* * * * *

Chapter IX

Aterre'Ro

Fragmented visions of things that were past drifted through Seth’s weary

mind as he slowly succumbed to the luring call of slumber. The things of the present

faded and the plain room of the inn was replaced by a place he knew all too well. The

lavishly furnished chambers of the lord of the manor were dimly illuminated by the

soft glow of the fire, yet the warm light from the hearth was unable to mask the

gloomy air that radiated out from the man in the center of the room.

The boy peered cautiously from around the half closed door, his dark eyes

taking in every detail and expression of the two within. The man was drunk again.

He had been in such a state for almost a year now since his wife had died of an

unknown illness. It seemed the man was always in a bad temper, the collection of

welts and bruises that marked nearly everyone in the household a testament of his

abuse. The maid by the name of Marissa knelt dutifully cleaning up the shards of a

broken bottle lying shattered on the floor, the man muttering angrily about the

incompetence of his staff. He was always like this when he had been drinking, angry

and irrational, his bloodshot eyes and ratted honey colored hair giving him a

bedraggled appearance where once he had been all order and prestige.

The woman deposited the garbage in a small bin and moved to retrieve a

fallen painting of the lady who had been the mistress of the house before the sickness

killed her. She gasped as a sudden stumble caused the painting to fall to the floor,

the old wooden frame splitting in two and bringing the man around with an angry

growl. He backhanded the woman across the face, cursing at her for being so clumsy

and turned back to his brooding.

The boy ran forward as the woman fell, an ugly bruise already blossoming

across her cheek. She whispered to him that it was all right, to go back downstairs,

but he ignored her, yelling at the man for what he had done.

The man spun around, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Stupid little whelp. What

do you think you’re doing? This is my bloody house! Now get out of here before I

throw you back out onto the street where you belong!”

The boy opened his mouth to reply and the man struck him in the face with

enough force to send spots dancing before his eyes. A second blow caught him square

in the stomach and sent him down to his knees, blows raining down on him from the

enraged nobleman above. The woman pleaded with the lord to stop, saying that the

boy really didn’t know any better, but the man ignored her and pulled his arm back

for another swing. What happened next Seth would never forget. A sudden energy

bubbled up inside of him, feeding of fear and pain, and steadily growing until it was

an inferno blazing inside of him. He sent it lashing out to strike the man before him,

the dark light exploding against the noble’s chest and sending him flying against the

wall.

The boy stared down at the twisted heap that lay crumpled on the floor, the

woman who had rescued and raised him staring at him with a mix of fear and

horror in her light eyes. He stumbled backward out of the room, exiting the mansion

and fleeing into the forest beyond. He ran until his legs ached with the strain of

continuing for so long and each breath burned his throat, driven on by the stricken

look of terror that had lain over the face of the woman who had raised him, her eyes

wide and disbelieving as if she were looking at a complete stranger. Somewhere in

the distant future a voice whispers softly to him and tells him of the magic he has

just used, bringing to mind the vacant-eyed face of the woman he killed, her mouth

open in a silent scream.

The boy stopped days later in a small city where he took to living alone on the

streets. The memory of the manor and all that happened there is a constant torment

that he cannot seem to dispel. He blocks the incident from his mind, exiling it to the

darkest corner of his thoughts, but the memories come rushing back to him now. The

first of his crimes caused by the dark heritage he now knows he possesses.

* * * * *

Seth jolted awake, the room eerily silent except for the loud pounding of his

heart thudding hollowly inside of his ears. Nine years he had managed to avoid

thinking of the incident, but he could do so no longer, not after what he had

discovered from the woman downstairs.

He ran his hand through his hair, his forehead covered in a faint sheen of

sweat. He could still see the broken body of the nobleman like a painting in his

head. Though almost a decade had passed, he could still see the man’s face, just as

he could the Demor as she had lain there motionless on the ground. He shook his

head, feeling sick. Aterre’Ro, Dark Hand, one of the Nocturne. He could deny it all

he wanted, but that didn’t change facts.

Seth looked out the small window at the clear night sky, the position of the

moon showing it to be only a few hours past midnight. He threw on his clothes, the

light leather pack feeling unbearably heavy as he slung it over his shoulder, the

long silver sword resting safely inside. My father’s sword, he thought faintly, but he

could not think of it as such. His real father was a servant of the empire who, if he

was still alive today, worked actively to destroy the freestanding cities of the south

as well as take away what little freedom the people here possessed. Even more

important than that, he had done things with the sword that were not worthy of a

man like Therin Whitewood. Seth had killed not for country or for noble cause, but

for revenge. No, it was Therin’s sword no longer.

Seth moved silently out into the hall, his soft leather boots making no sound

as he descended down the flight of stairs to the back door of the inn. He would be

gone before Viera awoke. He did more harm than good by staying with her. From

what he knew of the Venishians, it made her a traitor to her people to ever have

been with him in the first place.

The streets of the city were draped in deep shadow, the pale sliver of the

moon the only light amidst the blackness without. Not one soul lay outside this

night, which was strange in any city though he guessed in this one, there were more

frightening things that roamed the night that were perhaps enough to dissuade

people from leaving their homes.

Therin had sometimes spoken of his time in these mountains, back when he

had been a soldier in the king’s army. He had camped here while fighting the

Nocturne who had fled from Faelyon after their brief alliance with the city

collapsed. Seth shook his head. Those days had been dark indeed, and such times

were still too recent for most people’s comfort. The city had let the armies of the

Nocturne into the south through the mountain passes stretching to the border of the

Endless Plains in return for the assurance that they would be left undisturbed by

the empire’s conquest. A fairly good idea, but in the end it had failed. The joint

forces of Kaleth, Terrinth, and Venir had sent their armies to block off the passes

before the empire had a chance to advance. Groups of soldiers had been sent to hunt

down the Nocturne who had fled the city after they learned of their failure. Therin

Whitewood had been among those soldiers. A young man at the time, he had spent

weeks in the northern mountains while his brigade hunted down and destroyed

their ever elusive enemy. He had not gone into detail, but by the time they had

found the Nocturne, most were already dead, torn apart and eaten by the creatures

of the forest. Therin had been reluctant to relate the rest of the story, but Seth knew

that the attacks on his own camp had left Therin and three others the only

survivors of the mission.

Seth brought his attention back to the landscape ahead. Living in such an

environment could not be pleasant, and it was no wonder that the residents of

Faelyon were so paranoid and edgy. Luckily, the predators were not a permanent

plague. They came out only at night, recoiling from the sunlight as if it were fire

upon their flesh. Even so, not every resident would stay inside their houses after

dark, not when they were safe within the walls of the city. Seth frowned

uncertainly. There was not a soul in sight along the deserted streets, utter silence

coating everything and making him uneasy. He continued onward anyways, for

whatever it was that kept the people inside, it did not make a difference in his

decision.

He passed by the high stone walls lining the perimeter of the city on his way

to the pier, a low growl emitting from the other side of the wall as he passed. By the

sound of things, the creature was no more than a few inches away from him, though

its voice was muffled by the thick stone barrier. Border watch or no, if it weren’t for

the walls, the city would probably be flooded with the beasts. It was hard to keep

out something that was both stronger and faster than you, especially when it moved

without making a sound. You never knew such things were there, not until it was

too late and by then all you could do was scream.

The sound faded back into the night, and Seth continued on unhindered. Not

many things scared him, and the few things that he did find frightening had more

to do with himself than with the world around him. He had learned at a young age

the harsh realities of life. There were many frightening things in this world; being

scared of them only lessened your chances of surviving.

Faint footfalls sounded on the cobblestones behind him and he took his time

turning, not really needing to look to know the identity of the person behind him.

“Go back to the inn, Viera. I told you, you’re better off alone.”

She shook her head, her long brown hair falling in a long tangled stream

around her face. “Stop saying that. You know I’m not going to listen.”

He frowned angrily, Why does she have to be so stubborn? “Why are you

following me?” he demanded irritably. “You said yourself I could leave anytime I

wanted. Well, this is me leaving. Now go back to the inn and stop trying to do the

impossible.”

She glared in response to his words, her ruffled clothes and dishevelled hair

speaking of the haste in which she had departed the inn. “I said you could leave if

you wanted to, but the reason you’re leaving now has nothing to do with wanting to

go off on your own. It’s all because of the words of some strange woman and a few

well-reasoned suspicions. The only reason you’re going is because for some reason,

you think being of the same blood as those that serve empire makes you evil. I need

to get the Xerkzes stone to Venir, yes, but I cannot do that alone. Now stop begin

foolish, get some sleep for once, and we’ll both leave in the morning.”

He shook his head, both frustrated and also slightly touched by her

insistence. “I’m not going to Venir, Viera. Even if what you say is true, you think

the rest of your people will take so kindly to having a wielder of dark magic inside

their walls?”

A flicker of doubt touched the corners of her eyes but she did not relent in her

protest. “I am a runaway student, not even a fully appointed Keeper yet. I went

against every prohibition and normal regulation there is when I left Venir. Do you

really think a little more disapproval will do anything to worsen my punishment? If

we succeed in delivering this stone, we will have reversed the entire tide of the war;

I hardly think the council is going to complain.”

He looked away from her, staring up at the sky. “I suppose if I leave now,

you'll just follow me anyways?” she nodded and he sighed. “It’s dangerous to stay

with me. Dark magic is dark magic, Viera, regardless of the wielder.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I know that better than you Seth, but I also know

people, and despite your heritage, you’re not as bad as you seem to think.”

He looked back at her. “That’s still undetermined. At least if I stay, you’ll

have someone to protect you. You didn’t do such a great job against those Demor.”

She flushed, her green eyes darkening but he did not pause to give her a chance to

reply. “We’ll need a ship to cross the channel in the morning, and supplies for the

long trip west.”

She nodded, her face dead serious once more. “I haven’t really convinced you

yet, have I?” she murmured.

He looked at her darkly, his eyes inky black pools in the moonlight. “If you

had done what I have and felt for yourself what dark magic is, I’d be surprised if

you could convince yourself.”

They retraced their steps back through the streets toward The Falcon’s

Creed, Seth’s eyes scanning the buildings for the colorful sign that marked its door.

A sudden feeling of cold tickled his spine and he glanced uneasily backward with

the feeling of being watched. Viera looked back at him as he slowed and his mouth

opened slowly to reply to the silent question in her eyes when a force like a

behemoth smote him straight in the chest, crushing the air from his lungs and

sending spots dancing before his eyes.

“So sad.” a cold voice murmured. “I expected better somehow.” A figure

stepped out from the alleyway across from them, cloaked all in black with stark

white hair that spilled elegantly down the front of her dress. The woman peeled

back the hood of her robe, her face appearing ageless with pale features that were

cold and hard beneath the dark depths of her eyes.

Viera held her two Seraphen knives tightly in each hand, the sharp edges

glowing with light as she faced their attacker. The woman smiled tightly at

the Keeper, swaying casually as she strode out to greet them. Seth struggled to rise

to his feet but a slight motion from the woman had him keeled over on his knees as

a sudden shock of tearing pain ripped through his midsection.

Viera shouted in fury and a bolt of energy shot toward the woman from her

outstretched palm, but their attacker brushed it off with a negligent wave of her

hand. A flick of her wrist and Viera was flying through the air. The Keeper struck

the base of the nearest wall with shocking force, her head lolling down to one side as

she slid slowly to the ground.

Seth reacted almost instantly, fighting through the lingering pain and

leaping toward their assailant with sword in hand. She sidestepped his strike with

a fluid ease, her faint amusement fading to shock as his features caught the light.

She looked at him with anger burning in her eyes, hesitating for only a moment

before the whirling blade of his sword got her moving again.

The woman’s hand was a glove of energy as she reached out to catch the

sword blade, something that should not have been possible as the slash was

powerful enough to shear through armor. She seized the end of the weapon, a jolt of

electricity travelling up the length of the blade and coursing into his arm. Seth

released it with a curse, the entire length of the limb going numb.

The sorceress tossed the weapon angrily to one side, the blade falling to the

ground with a hollow clang. He knew instantly that it was too far away for him to

have any hope of reaching it in time to save himself. “You should have died long ago

boy.” she hissed, advancing with a dreadful purpose. Sickly yellow light sparked

from the ends of her fingers and the air about her crackled with energy.

Seth made his decision in an instant, all his reservations pushed aside as he

struck out with the only weapon he possessed that held any chance of saving him.

The dark magic came out of him in a rope of fire, slicing through the woman’s

defences and wrapping around her, a volatile force with a mind of its own. She fell

to her knees, a veil of black light wrapping around her and staving off the attack.

His magic dissolved with an angry hiss and the sorceress rose to her feet unscathed.

“It seems you have inherited your father’s gift, but it won’t be enough to save you.”

she snapped, her eyes flaming. “You may have caught me by surprise this once, but

it will not happen again. This time, you die.”

As she spoke another wave of energy reached out to engulf him, He tried to

bring forth the magic to protect him, but his ignorance was too much to overcome

and the woman’s magic seared into him like fire coursing through his veins. She

smiled coldly as he keeled over in pain, gritting his teeth to keep from screaming. A

low grown escaped his lips despite his efforts as the pain continued to increase.

Shudders wracked his body and the woman began to speak, the corners of her

mouth twitching up in a disturbingly predatory smile. “A lot stronger than the

pathetic slivers used by the Demor, isn’t it?” she hissed. “Voren will be pleased

when I bring back the stone your weak little friend stole, after I kill her of course.

Foolish wench. She didn’t present a hundredth of the challenge I expected. What a

pity. It seems the reputation of the Falir Al Tear was somewhat overstated. No need

to mention you. Silena always was so very clever; too bad her death was in vain. It

will be interesting to...”

A burst of magic knocked her off her feet before she could finish the

statement, slamming into her with a force strong enough to shatter stone as she

rolled across the cobblestone path gasping for breath. The attack cut off as suddenly

as it had started and a pale faced Viera staggered away from the wall, her hands

raised before her as a wall of energy rose up from the earth, blocking them off from

the sorceress who was already rising to her feet.

Seth rolled to his feet, feeling as if every part of him had been seared with a

hot iron, his hands shaking involuntarily. Viera ran quickly over to him, the right

side of her face streaked with blood from the long gash that had opened near her

temple. He looked at it in concern, but she shook her head. “I’ll be fine for now, but

that shield won’t hold for long. Can you run?”

He nodded, but she caught the way his hands trembled as he stood. She

reached out her hand and the pain faded away in a tingle of warmth, the feeling

returning to the arm that had hung limp at his side.

He flexed his hand experimentally. “Thanks. You probably need it yourself

more than I do though.”

She probed the side of her head with a wince, her fingers coming away sticky

with blood. She sighed. “That I could, but the art of healing is a peculiar thing. I can

mend a broken bone on any other human but I cannot heal so much as a scratch on

myself. Besides,” she said uneasily, shooting a glance at the shimmering wall. “We

need to get going.”

He followed her away from the shield, stopping only momentarily to retrieve

his sword before they set off down the street at a sprint. Infuriated screams trailed

along behind them, Viera’s shield already beginning to weaken as the sorceress sent

slashes of light slamming into the invisible wall that restrained her. Seth looked

around at the still dark houses. “Why does no one wake?” he whispered in

frustration.

Viera shook her head. “I should have sensed it, but I wasn’t paying attention.

No one here will wake until well into the morning. It appears our assailant was

more than just a Nocturne sorceress; things like this have to do with telepathy,

putting the mind to sleep. It has a limited range; the people at the edges of the city

should be unaffected, but I wouldn’t count on their help. In Venir, we are trained to

shield ourselves from such influences, but apparently the people here don’t have

any such protections.”

He nodded. That explained why the streets had been so empty. It seemed

that this time they were dealing with an enemy much more dangerous than the

Demor that had tracked them before. They jogged through the deserted streets, a

hastily tied cloth encircling Viera’s head to stem the flow of blood from the wound.

Despite her protests that she was alright, she swayed unsteadily with each and

every step, unable to move even half as fast as he had seen her run before.

A figure stepped out from behind a shadowed doorway, and they both skidded

to a halt, the silver length of Seth’s sword glinting menacingly in the pale half-light

as he levelled it at the figure’s chest. The woman held up her hands in a placating

gesture, her pale blue-gray eyes glinting silver in the night. Seth’s eyes darkened as

she came to stand before them, her apparent surrender doing nothing to convince

him of her intentions.

Viera’s eyes narrowed as she caught sight of the woman, recognizing her to be

the Nocturne deserter they had met earlier in the inn. “Move.” she snapped. The

brilliant gleam of a Seraphen blade caught the light as it appeared in her hand, her

evident anger tinting her voice as she continued. “We want nothing to do with you.

In all likelihood, you’re the one who told that witch where we were in the first place.

Am I right?”

“As a matter of fact, you are not.” The woman stated coolly, brushing back a

stray strand of silvery hair that had managed to escape from the bun that held back

the rest. “I alerted no one. I told you before, I no longer serve the empire.”

“Then how are you awake now?” Seth demanded, growing impatient. “You’re

just stalling us so your friend back there has a chance to catch up.”

The woman peered behind them into the darkness. “Just because I have lost

my gift of telepathy does not mean I have not taken measures to prevent its

influence. I see why you might think I am stalling, but I’m not. There is still time

for you to escape. A ship is departing from the pier at the west end as we speak.

They were delayed earlier on and the night waters on the bay present the swiftest

sailing. You’ll find no one else out at this time of night. If you move fast, you can

catch it and be safe for a little while at least from whoever the empire has sent to

pursue you.”

Seth did not alter his expression. “How do you even know it’s an agent of the

empire that pursues us?'

She smiled faintly, glancing pointedly at the pouch at Viera’s waist. “I had

heard that the Xerkzes stone was stolen, I just did not instantly recognize you as

the thief whom the empire has been tracking.”

Viera shook her head uncertainly as Seth turned to look at her, doubts

gnawing at him just as they did her. Another flash of light split the night behind

them and the woman stared at them coolly. “I would hurry if I were you.”

They turned west and ran with surprising alacrity toward the docks and the

uncertain fate that awaited them there. Whether this was a trap or an escape, there

was no time to deliberate. The woman followed along a few meters behind them,

ignoring Viera’s venomous glances and guiding them through the stretch of vacant

ships to the one they were looking for.

A violent explosion reverberated through the stone beneath their feet, and

they were thrown to their knees. A few sailors aboard the ship looked up in

surprise, quickening their pace as they severed the mooring lines that held them in

place and drifting away into the fog shrouded waters of the bay.

The woman grabbed the sleeve of Seth’s tunic and pulled him toward her as

he turned to leave. “Your mother cared for you more than anything, child. She

believed very much in the prophecy and was determined to change it for good. I will

not let her sacrifice be in vain. Go, protect the girl and see the stone safely away. Be

swift.”

She released her grip and turned to face the empty street behind them as the

slight form of the Nocturne sorceress emerged from out of the shadows and

advanced down the cobblestone street. Seth stared at the telepath uncertainly,

feeling inexplicably that he could trust her. Viera tugged insistently at his arm, and

he glanced at the slowly moving ship, both of them darting across the worn wooden

planks of the dock and leaping toward the departing vessel.

The sailors above gave an angry curse as the two slammed into the side of the

hull, catching hold of the trailing mooring ropes and climbing up on deck. A hand

seized the back of Seth’s tunic and tugged him roughly up over the rail. He twisted

around, slamming his fist into the brutish man’s nose, the meaty hand releasing its

hold on his shirt with an enraged yell. Viera evaded the grasping hands of the

bulky man before them and landed in a crouch on the flat surface of the deck.

Another man came up to grab them but Seth stepped forward to block him,

jamming the hilt of his sword into the fool’s temple. They crouched warily near the

edge of the railing, surrounded by a tightening circle of scowling sailors.

Another flash of light flared up from behind Seth, followed by a muffled

scream. He resisted the urge to look back, keeping his eyes on the men before him.

A bloody faced crewman glared angrily at him from above the crooked mess of a

broken nose, hands clenching and unclenching spasmodically. Viera breathed

heavily from her position at his back. It seemed their escape had become a new trap

of its own.

* * * * *

Rena Desirey stared calmly toward the approaching figure that had come on

behalf of the empire, the cold unlined face, soulless eyes, and colorless hair easily

recognizable even after all these years. “Nyea Aterre.” she said coldly. “I did not

expect to ever see you in Faelyon. Still a slave to the empire and your own

inhibitions I see. Too bad that yet again you have failed.”

The seer glared angrily at her. “Move aside traitor. I have no time to waste on

cowards and deserters. Leave now and I may just allow you to go on with your

pitiful life in hiding.”

Rena did not move. “I will stay here if only to spite you witch. Silena bested

you all those years ago and now her son will do the same. The empire will burn and

you will burn with it, but why should I tell you what you already know? Look

toward the future seer, I am eager to see how you will fall.”

Nyea flushed with anger, her hand flicking forward to send forth the magic

that would destroy her, but Rena moved faster. The black bladed knife of the

Aterre’Ro darted forward to bury itself in the other woman’s outstretched hand, the

fatal poison of the dagger entering her bloodstream. The seer recoiled with a cry,

Rena’s second strike missing its target as the dark magic struck. The magic

engulfed her in a pillar of light, her body arching backward with a muffled scream

as her life was slowly sapped.

Nyea ripped the dagger from her palm, waving her hand over the wound and

extracting the poison in a dark cloud of vapor that rose from the slash. She glanced

in disgust at the crumpled form of her former colleague. “A pathetic attempt Rena.”

she spat. “I expected better from one of the Lilith, even one as crippled as you.”

The other woman smiled, her gray eyes sparking with defiance. “I have

already succeeded Nyea. A shame though, I would have loved to live just a little

while longer. I would like to be there to see you and Voren when the empire falls.”

she cut off her words with a choked laugh, her eyes becoming dull and glazed.

The seer glanced angrily at the disappearing form of the cargo ship. She

thought of the mysterious boy who had been hidden from her sight, seeing his face

in her mind. An interesting surprise indeed. Rena had been wrong about one thing

though; magic or not, the child was no match for her. The fool traitor had done

nothing more than delay her. Next time she saw him, both he and the Keeper would

die. She would retrieve the stone from their lifeless corpses and put an end once and

for all to Silena’s foolish prophecy.

* * * * *

Chapter X

Scallion

Viera gazed nervously at the people surrounding her, their faces locked in

a melee of glares and grimaces as they looked for the easiest way to take care of the

interlopers crouched now aboard their vessel. The group peered over their shoulders

muttering as another figure emerged from below decks, the circle parting to emit a

broad shouldered man who she took to be the captain. He peered down at them with

irritation in his stern hazel eyes, his frown deepening as his gaze came to rest on

the Seraphen dagger held loosely in her hand.

He was a tall man with quite an imposing presence. Dirty blond hair fell

raggedly to his shoulders, and the slightly crooked hook-beaked nose dominating his

face as well as the mass of other scars marking his arms and face led Viera to

believe that he had been involved in a fair share of skirmishes himself. “What is a

Venishian doing aboard my ship and why in hell did you think you had the right to

perform that little stunt off the docks and scuffle with my crew? I’m already short

staffed as it is. Now, answer my questions before I decide to act on my inclination

that you two are nothing but trouble, and have you thrown overboard. Then maybe

you can swim your way back to shore.” Despite the harshness of the words it was all

spoken in very moderate tones, his eyebrow arching skeptically as he examined the

two intruders.

Viera glanced over her shoulder at Seth, his sword hand still held high, ready

to strike at a moment’s notice. She turned her gaze back to the captain, deciding

that a swim back through the icy water of the bay to the Nocturne waiting to kill

them was not a good option. “We only seek passage to the other side of the channel.

We will not trouble you and we only came in such a manner because we

were...well...pressed for time.”

The man snorted disbelievingly. “Troubles with the empire no doubt by the

look of those flames. Can’t say that I’m surprised. You have the looks of a Venishian

and no doubt you’ll bring a lot more chaos and unwanted attention from the Lands

of Night. I feel inclined at the moment to just lock you up below and be done with it,

and I’m sure Lars here would love to repay you for that painful adjustment of his

nose.” he said gruffly, motioning toward the man Seth had struck, the brute’s beady

black eyes glaring at them from beneath his low brows. Viera did not waver in her

calm expression, standing motionless as he continued. “I have a lot of work to do

and cargo to deliver, but seeing as I am pressed for time, this could be an

interesting opportunity.” He stood there for a moment without speaking, clearly

weighing his options. He looked at Viera with a steady gaze, his voice cool. “Tell you

what, you and your friend there put down your weapons and I’ll get you to the other

side.”

The Keeper hesitated a moment before laying down her dagger. The captain

gazed at her expectantly and she removed another four from beneath her coat.

A dangerous look came over Seth’s face as the men moved toward them, but

Viera quickly stopped him. “We can’t beat all twenty with only two of us.” she

whispered harshly. “And even if we did, we can’t pilot a ship by ourselves. Now put

down the sword.” He glared at her sullenly, and she could tell by his expression that

he didn’t believe for one moment that the captain would keep his word. It was a

second more before Seth’s hand came free of the hilt and the men moved forward to

seize them.

The captain smiled in satisfaction, then turned to one of the men standing at

his shoulder. “Take them below. A night with the rats will do them some good.

Leave the girl some water and bandages for that gash in her head; can’t have them

dying before I get a chance to talk to them. Other than that, leave them be. I’ll see

them again in the morning.” He said it quite calmly, and the dark look in Seth’s

eyes told Viera that he hadn’t expected anything else. The man raised his voice to a

shout as he continued, all complacency gone. “As for the rest of you lazy louts, stop

standing around staring like idiots and get back to work!”

Viera ground her teeth in anger as the men dragged her below. The captain

strode calmly away, re-entering his cabin and leaving the men to carry out his

instructions. Viera grimaced as the stench of rotted wood and waste filled her

nostrils from the dingy lower decks near the bilge. The men holding them unlocked

a low cellar door at the base of the ship, tossing them roughly to the floor. The man

who had captured her neatly removed the pouch that had hung at her waste,

smiling appreciatively as he poured the mound of coins out into one grimy hand.

The other man had Seth’s bag in one hand, removing another pouch of coins and

widening his eyes as he came across the bow. “Hiding weapons are we?” he

remarked darkly.

The other sailor smiled a toothy grin. “We’ll be confiscating

these...er...things. Captain’s orders and all.” Viera glared at them, the man’s

guttural accent failing to mask the triumphant tone of his voice. Filthy thieves. She

thought angrily, everything from gold to copper coins vanishing beneath the

deckhand’s heavy coat. They departed a few moments later, locking the door behind

them as they left.

Viera crossed over to the shallow bowl of water they had placed on the floor

before leaving, unwinding the strip of cloth from around her head and dabbing

gingerly at the gash in her scalp. Seth sat motionless against the wooden bulkhead,

seemingly unaffected by the cold and damp of the place.

She finished tying the bandage around her head, looking at him with a

challenging expression. “I suppose you don’t agree with my decision to surrender?”

she asked, already expecting his predictably cynical answer.

But he surprised her by answering tiredly. “You couldn’t have done anything

else. At least we didn’t get thrown overboard. We wouldn’t have survived a second

encounter with that woman who attacked us and the stone would have been lost.”

A rat crawled out of a gap in the panelling and she lashed out at it with a

small line of fire. The vermin cried out as the magic struck, the sound a pitiful little

squeak that made her frown in a mix of disgust and sadness. Killing anything was

never pleasant, nonetheless, she would not spend the night lying covered in rats

simply to avoid it. “Rotten scoundrel.” she snapped with uncharacteristic gruffness.

Her negative feelings toward the captain were only intensified by the fragrant

smells that assaulted her in the dank hole where they sat.

Seth smirked at her. “You shouldn’t have expected him to be happy about the

sudden intrusion from the pair of troubled kids leaping onto his ship and beating up

his crew. Not to mention that the knowledge that there’s a dark magician from the

empire chasing us probably did not do much to lighten his attitude towards us.

Besides, I’ve been in worse places. There aren’t as many rats here as in the lower

decks of the military crafts the southern regimens use for travel, and at least we

aren’t sitting half submerged in water like the last time I was on a cargo ship.”

She stared at him in disbelief and he simply shrugged. “If you’ve ever spent

six months tracking someone half way across the south side of the realm, you would

know it requires a lot of stowing away and concealment. There are only so many

places on a ship where people don’t go, and most of them are deserted for a good

reason.”

They sat in momentary silence, and Viera shook her head. “First confronted

by one of the Lilith, then almost killed by the empire’s newest hunter, now locked in

the bowels of a cargo ship by a bunch of angry sailors. Our luck doesn’t seem to be

very good today at all.”

Seth sighed ruefully. “She’s probably dead, isn’t she?”

Viera stared at him in confusion. “Who are you talking about?”

“The woman from the inn, the telepath. You heard the scream. She said

something before we left, something about my mother and a prophecy. I don’t know

why, but I think maybe she really was telling the truth, not just about some things,

but about everything.”

Viera nodded, suppressing her reluctance and speaking slowly in reply. “I

think you may be right. I guess not even those raised in the Lands of Night are

completely evil. Even when they have inherited traits that some people believe

would make them so.”

He looked up at her, the scepticism still evident in his expression. “Point

taken, but killing magic and telepathy are fairly different things.”

“It is the wielder, not the magic, that makes the difference. An evil person

can use pure magic to commit great atrocities in the same way that a person born

with dark magic does not need to use it for evil.”

He looked at her strangely, his face contemplating. “You really believe that

don’t you?”

She shook her head. “I simply see what you can’t. That woman gave her life

back there to help us in the hopes we would destroy the empire. A member of the

house of Lilith, one of the darkest sects of the Sur’Aterre, and in the end she chose

good. That right there is proof that not all the Nocturne are evil.”

They sat without speaking, the drip of water from between the rotting planks

in the ceiling above the only sound to disturb the quiet. Viera spoke up suddenly,

curiosity flaring up inside of her as she thought about what the telepath had said.

“After this is over, you might find your parents as well. The woman at the inn knew

both of them, and she spoke very highly of your mother.”

Seth did nothing to acknowledge her statement, his mind elsewhere. When

he did finally reply his voice sounded distant. “The woman I saw in the Looking

Glass back in the mountains... I think that was the Silena that the woman was

talking about. I felt back then that she was someone I knew somehow and now I

know why.” He looked straight at her, his gaze direct. “On the docks, she said ‘I will

not let her sacrifice be in vain.’ She was talking about my mother. She died defying

the empire. That’s why the woman helped us back there, gave her life so we could

escape. She said the reason she left the empire was that a friend very dear to her

was killed... It seems obvious who she meant.”

“What about your father?”

He frowned. “I wouldn’t put too much faith in the possibility that he’s alive

either. All the Nocturne who act against the empire don’t seem to stay alive for very

long afterwards.” Viera bit her lip, suddenly regretting bringing it up. Seth waited a

time before speaking again, his expression suddenly brooding. “Do you have family

back in the city Viera, or is it just you?”

She shook her head, a mix of emotions bubbling up inside her. “I had an older

brother, but he died years ago fighting in the wars against the empire. My father

was a general, slain by a stray arrow when I was six years old, and my mother...I

don’t exactly like to think about my mother. We didn’t speak much even before my

brother’s death and now... Let’s just say that when I went to Cayheir to take the

stone, I went knowing there was no one I would hurt if I didn’t return. My teachers

and my friends would be sad for a time perhaps, but my mother... I don’t know. I

think she hardened herself to such things a long time ago.”

They lay down to sleep shortly afterwards, the cold and damp of the hold only

part of the reason why Viera was unable to find rest. She had not spoken to her

mother in almost a year, the queen of Venir had always been far too preoccupied to

deal with her children and Viera could not deny that she had done quite a lot to

earn her mother’s disfavor. She sighed; the woman was unreasonable, a hard ruler

with a logical mind whose every action considered only risk and necessity rather

than right and wrong. Viera’s fiery temper and steely determination did not sit well

with the queen. When her father and brother had still been alive, things had been

different, but now... She sighed sadly. Now things were too far gone to hope for

change, and she had resolved a long time ago that she would not be the one to go

beg on her knees for forgiveness, not when she was the one who had been wronged.

She closed her eyes slowly, the steady buzz of the Xerkzes stone a comforting

presence sitting loyally at her side.

* * * * *

The halls lay heavily shrouded in darkness, the gloom that hung over the

place more than just an absence of light. Disjointed voices drifted slowly toward

Seth’s ears as years passed and the scenery of the palace darkened. He was vaguely

aware that this was a dream, but something in the way it appeared was different

from the normal memories and fantasies glimpsed while unconscious.

He stepped forward uncertainly, prodded by an unseen hand that compelled

him to move. The ghostly torches flickered in their iron brackets and a figure

appeared at the end of the hall. The man turned toward him, tall and broad-

shouldered with eyes that bored into him with a strange ferocity. Delighted whispers

tickled the inside of his ears, the figure’s dark features chillingly familiar.

Another form appeared hovering at his shoulder, the blue eyes staring past

him toward the figure at the end of the hall. Her eyes held an immense sadness, her

black hair falling in waves to frame her pale features. “So many sins, so many

deaths.” she mused. “Both of us have done so much dark, but he is the one who has

been overcome by it.” She turned her eyes to Seth, something about her face tugging

at his memory. “He is the one you must face. To end this war, it must be done.”

He stared at the woman uncomprehendingly but she did not deign to explain.

The scenery around him changed until he found himself surrounded by wintery

woods at the banks of a river. The woman was backing away calmly, her features

defiant. She no longer seemed aware of him or of anyone else besides the man who

walked grimly toward her. Something was clutched tightly in her hand, but he could

not make out what it was. The voices continued their incessant rambling, the

whispers rising to a dull roar.

The woman spread her hands to the heavens and a pillar of fire spread out to

engulf her. He cried out, rushing toward her as he finally recognized her for who she

was. She fell to the ground as the fire consumed her. Seth reached out to her as she

fell, but the action was pointless as she was already gone. The man behind him stood

silently fuming as the flames slowly abated, speaking softly, his voice a dull rumble.

“Your prophecy die with you!” The words echoed eerily inside Seth’s head, the words

of the chant that buzzed in the back of his mind suddenly becoming coherent. To

save or destroy, through light or through dark, the path has been made and fate has

been forged... The voices rose to a scream and he clutched his head against the

sudden stabs of pain sent jarring through his skull. “It is not decided,” someone

hissed. “Not yet. The future is hidden and with you it dies...”

* * * * *

Seth sat bolt upright as the roar of the voices faded. His head ached as if a

nail had been driven through his forehead and he breathed slowly to still the

pounding of his heart. He could not remember most of the dream, but bits and

pieces stood clear in his mind and he frowned in dissatisfaction that he could not

remember them all.

Viera looked up from the place where she sat as he stirred, coolly taking in

the way he held his head in his hands. He looked up at her slowly, wondering if she

had been up the whole time or if he had woken her. “What time is it?” he muttered.

She shook her head. “It’s impossible to tell down here, but I would guess

somewhere around dawn.”

He glanced around at the numerous piles of ash that lay on the cellar floor,

seeing clearly the reason she had stayed awake. “Did anyone come while I was out?”

She glanced resentfully at the thick wooden door, looking as if she was

considering whether or not to burn it down. “No one, though considering how ill you

look right now, I suppose that was a good thing.” She looked at him with concern in

her eyes, her mouth tilting down into a frown. “You’ve been speaking nothing but

gibberish for the past two hours, saying something about ‘the path of fate’ or some

such.” she paused for a second, staring at him with unease in her features. “Why are

you holding your head like that?”

He sat up straight, every sound seeming to pound inside his skull.

“Headache. It’s probably nothing.”

She didn’t change expression, the slight way her mouth tightened around the

corners telling him she was preoccupied with other things. “Do you remember your

dream at all?”

He frowned in discontentment as the pieces of the vision continued to slip

away. “Parts... but that’s not important right now. It was just a dream. Something

else is bothering you.”

She scowled at him, and he received the impression that she was angered by

his ability to read her so easily. He smiled inwardly at the thought; he knew a lot

more about her than he let on.

“I couldn’t sleep last night so I decided to practice a form of discipline used by

the Keepers to steady the mind. When done correctly, it allows you to sense what’s

happening in the world. It would take too long to explain the process entirely, so to

be brief: by removing yourself from your own awareness you can come in touch with

the world around you. The woman who confronted us has not followed us across the

channel as I had expected she would. Instead, she seems content to go another way

entirely and I get the feeling she knows something we don’t.” She paused for a

moment, her frown deepening. “The empire would never risk allowing us to bring

the stone all the way to Venir when it is such a key part of why the Nocturne can so

easily overcome their enemies. The only reason I can think of that she would not

follow us right away is because she knows we will not get to Venir the way we

planned. If she’s a seer, she has no reason to worry about losing us.”

Seth stared at her uneasily. “You’re saying she can see what we we’re going

to do before it happens, and if that is the case, it may be that the reason she isn’t

following us is because she already knows for a fact that we never reach Venir?” Her

head dipped forward in a barely perceptible nod and he frowned. “How many

abilities do the Nocturne have? I thought you needed things like a Looking Glass to

see into the future, and even then it’s random. The only fortune-tellers and seers

I’ve encountered were scam artists. Forgive me if I’m surprised to find that the

person following us is practically omniscient.”

Viera sighed. “Seers don’t know everything. They only see… possibilities,

though admittedly I’ve never heard of any of the Nocturnes’ predictions being

wrong.”

Seth shook his head. “So the Nocturne have ways to look into the future.”

“There are many variations on dark magic, a lot of them are inheritable;

that’s why you can wield magic without ever having even been taught, and that is

why even before the emperor gained possession of the Xerkzes stone, the Nocturne

were so difficult to fight.” She brushed irritably at a stray strand of hair, continuing

with resignation in her voice. “I can’t say I know all that much about why their

magic is passed on when light magic is not. Some have spent their entire lives

searching for the answer to such questions and never really solved them. If I

remember correctly, it has something to do with the fact that our magic is simply a

manipulation of the forces in the world around us while the Nocturnes’ powers are a

reflection of things inside them, but I can’t get much clearer than that. Anyway, the

Nocturnes’ tampering with the dark arts has given them many different abilities.

Women like your mother’s friend for example have powers of telepathy, to read and

manipulate thoughts. The most powerful ones are members of the House of Lilith

and can even go so far as to drain the mind completely if you do not have defences

against it.”

Seth repressed the urge to grimace, keeping his expression blank. “Seers are

more uncommon.” the Keeper stated, her tone very cool and factual. “The art of

divination is not an evil thing in and of itself, but in the Lands of Night, it serves

only to aid the dark. Not all Nocturne have these abilities of course,” Viera

continued, “but the ones that do are born with it and are completely dedicated to the

empire, or... for the most part anyway.” she amended, remembering the telepath in

the inn who had deserted the empire after seeing the depth of their evil. “Magic like

yours,” she said softly. “is probably the most dangerous of these abilities, but it

seems this...person sent to hunt us may just have all three talents.”

He raised an eyebrow and she bit her lip. “If she can in fact see the future as

well as her other capacities, it explains how she found us in Faelyon and also why

she doesn’t feel the need to follow us now.”

“So this means that either we have no chance of succeeding, or we may be

walking into another trap set by this woman who not only has magic stronger than

either of ours but can see everything we do before we even choose to act.”

Viera opened her mouth to add more, but the door of the room swung open

and the burly, balding man that had been one of those who had escorted them down

here in the first place stepped aside to admit the captain. “Ah, good to see you’re

both up then.” he stated, smiling devilishly in a way that reminded Seth far too

much of the noble who had murdered Therin. This was a man of greed, but

something else lingered in his gaze too, a hint of uncertainty and wariness that he

could not explain. “I have a few... questions, for both of you.”

Viera’s eyes narrowed as she caught sight of him. “Unless you’re here to let

us out of this ghastly little hole, I’m not in the mood for answering questions.”

The man looked at them without changing expression, something about the

way he stood telling Seth that he was on edge. He was acting much more hostile

than he had last night, meaning he had found out something about them and the

discovery was one that he did not particularly like. “The first thing you should know

about me,” he stated gruffly, “is that I don’t like stowaways. Especially not

stowaways who leap onto my ship in the middle of the night with some witch

chasing after them, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, you then proceeded to injure

my men.” His expression darkened, his hazel eyes flat and his voice quiet but stern.

His eyes shifted to find Seth momentarily as he mentioned the last part of his

statement, before turning back to Viera. “As it turns out for you lass, you’ve been

carrying some nasty weapons, nearly burned down my ship when I had my man

take them below.”

Viera stared at him coolly, drawing herself up with the regal manner of

nobility despite the fact that she was sitting on the dirty floor of a cellar surrounded

by the burnt carcasses of rats. “If your man had not tried to tamper with them, they

would not have reacted at all. Seraphen daggers are less volatile than Seraphic

swords or other more powerful weapons, but they still have wards around them.”

“Seraphen...hmm, I guess I was right in assuming you were a Venishian.

Now, I’m willing to make you both a deal. Sedrik’s still unconscious from that blow

to the head, and since Lars can’t do all that much with a broken nose, and Furlyn

got both his hands seared black by those demon cursed weapons, I’m really quite

short on hands. Earn your keep and I’ll take you to the other side, maybe even let

you have one of the cabins.”

Viera exchanged a quick look with Seth, her eyebrow cocked in a silent

question. He nodded almost imperceptibly and turned toward the captain. “We’ll

agree to help, on one condition.”

The man’s eyes widened. “You’re giving me conditions boy? I’m being

generous as it is.”

Seth stared at him unblinking. This man’s idea of generosity was

considerably lacking. “Give us back our weapons and the other things you

confiscated and we’ll help.”

Viera nodded in agreement, speaking reasonably as she continued. “This

probably benefits you as much as it does us, as your men have an unfortunate habit

of tampering with things they should not, not to mention you owe us a considerable

amount of money because of what your men filched.”

The man glared, but after a moment’s hesitation his head jerked down in a

nod. “Fine. Don’t know why I’m agreeing to the demands of a couple of impetuous

youths. But I am. Go up on deck and find First Mate Cross. You’ll get back your

things from her and then she can tell you what needs doing.”

He stalked away, muttering under his breath about “demanding little

blighters.” as he called them. Viera watched him go with a slightly satisfied smile.

“You know, he’s not all that bad once you get past the gruffness.” Seth did not reply.

The man disliked them, but more than that, something about them made him

uncomfortable. The reasons for the feeling was unclear, but the man projected a

distinct aura of trepidation and unease whenever they were near. Despite all of his

amused glances and apparent irritation, he knew something more than what he

lead them to believe, and the knowledge disturbed him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Seth was aware that it was uncommon to

be able to determine so much from a few glances and casual words, but it had

always been so. It was why he had chosen to go with Therin Whitewood that night

in the square, and how he had known the woman at the inn had been telling the

truth about his heritage. The feelings that surrounded people told him clearly

whether or not they were trustworthy or being honest, though with some they were

so faint or jumbled it was impossible to distinguish anything useful about their

character. It was the same sense that had told him to go with Viera that night he

met her in the square. It was also how he knew the carriage had been coming and

that it would take them to Faelyon.

He had not bothered to explain this to Viera, only saying it was a feeling. He

did not fully understand it himself. In the past he had dismissed it as nothing,

something he had been able to do for as long as he could remember. Now however, it

was impossible to stop considering it as another accursed ability from the dark

heritage of the Nocturne, and if it was, that could only mean yet another undeniable

fact that was evidence of his lineage .

He shrugged off the feeling. He had stopped denying that his parents had

been from the Lands of Night, but even so, he still hoped to find something to prove

it was otherwise. The ironic thing was that Viera seemed to have accepted it with

no more difficulty than when he had told her of his past, yet the knowledge still ate

at him with the silent promise of something worse yet to come.

Viera glanced over at him as the captain departed, seeing his expression and

trying to discern what it meant with that inconvenient ability of hers to see even

the slightest indication of what he was thinking. He smoothed away the slight

frown that had formed while he was brooding, knowing as he did so that it was

already too late to hide his ire from the Keeper beside him. Viera spoke casually,

though undercurrents of impatience were carried in her tone. “What’s bothering

you?”

“Nothing.” he said calmly. “We should go now, unless you want to stay down

here a little while longer...” She rose to her feet without any further hesitation and

he followed.

They strode through the open doorway and ascended the flights of stairs into

the pale dawn light that illuminated the world above, soft shades of pink and violet

sparkling across the clear waters of the channel in a spray of color. No matter how

hard he looked, Seth could not see far enough to catch sight of the distant shore.

The Faelyon channel… He smirked. Judging by distance it seemed more like an

inland sea.

A hard looking woman came up to meet them as they stepped onto the deck,

stony blue eyes holding a disproving look as she regarded the two of them. The faint

lines marking her sun-browned features placed her somewhere in her late thirties,

though her sturdy compact body showed no sign of age. She wore her hair pulled

back in a tight braid, angular features giving her face a frightening severity. Her

pale pink lips seemed locked in a permanent scowl as she took in Viera’s rich

clothing. “You’re going to need to change out of that before we begin.” she stated

coolly. “There are some spare clothes below in the hold.”

Viera nodded. “I take it you’re the first mate, Cross.”

The woman simply looked at her. “Cariwen Cross, first mate and appointed

navigator, but for today I am your commanding officer so it will be either Mam, or

Officer Cross to you, understood?”

They both nodded and Seth felt himself grimace inwardly though he was

careful to maintain a neutral expression that masked the emotion. The woman was

even harsher than the captain, ten times as tough as any of the men beneath her. It

was fairly evident how she had gained command. Sailors were not usually women,

but Seth got the feeling that those who questioned her orders did not last long.

“We were told you would return our things before we begin.” Viera said

coolly, not flinching at the woman’s hard gaze that could have made even the

strongest warrior tremble.

“You’ll get yer things back when we reach the far side. They’ll serve no

purpose in yer work. Now are you deaf or just slow? Go take off all that silk and

that pretty bit of gold around yer neck and get in something suitable for work.”

Viera flushed, but went anyway. Her clothes weren’t really all that ostentatious.

Seth had seen much worse, but the thin silk of her shirt and the thick velvet lining

the inside of her cloak definitely weren’t meant for the dirty jobs they were likely to

be assigned.

She re-emerged a moment later, wearing a rough cloth shirt. She had

removed her cloak along with the ornate tree necklace that had been fastened

around her neck. Cariwen nodded approvingly, walking toward the other side of the

ship and obviously expecting them to follow.

They reached the far side of the deck and Cariwen handed Viera a long

handled mop, the rusted iron bucket that was the implement’s companion sliding

across the deck with a low groan. Cairiwen took a step backward to avoid the murky

water that splashed over the edge of the pail. “Clean up ’ere then move below and

tar the floor of the hold. Be quick about it; I don’t like laziness, girl.”

Viera stared down at the metal-rimmed bucket with considerable

displeasure, proving Seth right when he had assumed she had never done any real

work in her training to be a Keeper, at least not the kind she would be doing today.

There was a first for everything, though some experiences you could do better

without, he thought wryly.

“You,” the first mate stated, gesturing toward Seth, “go below to the room at

the bow of the ship and pump out the bilge. Once you’re done, go and see the ship’s

healer, Crell, in the infirmary and see if you can help ’im with all those injuries you

caused.” She turned her back to them, striding toward the bow of the ship. “I have

things to do now, so get going.” she commanded as she saw Viera hesitate. “Take

care not to be too generous with the pitch,” she instructed the girl, Seth already

moving toward the hatch leading below. “Oh, and in case the captain forgot,” she

shouted, “welcome aboard The Scallion.” She continued on without so much as a

glance back to see if they had done as she said, never doubting that her orders

would be obeyed. Seth descended down the ladder, setting to his grim task of

clearing the ship’s waste. It was going to be a long day.

Chapter XI

Price of Passage

The stomach turning smells of sweat and blood lay heavy on the air as

Seth stepped through the thick wooden door to the cabin marked as the infirmary.

Jars of herbs and stacks of bandages lay piled upon the shelves, the strange

smelling concoctions brewed by the young man before him only adding to the vile

smell already permeating the room.

The man looked up as he entered, pale brown hair cropped short around his

face over deep brown eyes that only seemed to be attentive for a few moments

before wandering somewhere else. “Ah, you would be the person Cariwen sent to

help, yes? Well I do find myself in need of a new supply of water, what with all

these burns and broken bones I find it hard to keep up.” He turned away from Seth

without waiting for a reply, handing a thinly muscled man with an overly large nose

the salve he had been brewing and slathering it all over his calloused hands. Seth

frowned faintly as he saw the sickly white patches of skin, some even charred

slightly around the edges. So this was the man who had been charged with keeping

Viera’s daggers. He certainly looked like the type to be prying into things he

shouldn’t. The man should be less ignorant of what he’s dealing with the next time

he decided to investigate.

Seth quickly retrieved an empty metal bucket from its place on the floor of

the room, striding out into the crowded halls near the cargo hold and finding one of

the large barrels of water that held the ship’s fresh water supply. It wasn’t as

important here as it would be on the ocean, since technically the water of the

channel was drinkable once you boiled it, but it avoided a lot of unnecessary work to

have your own supply.

He lugged the heavy pail back to the small cabin that served as the

infirmary, lifting the load with relative ease even with the aches and pains from his

hours in the bilge making his arms stiff with fatigue. The last he had seen of Viera,

she had been slopping tar along the cracked boards of the lower deck floor. She had

shot him a vicious glare when he had asked quite casually how she was doing, and

it was clear to him that she did not think the trip was worth the trouble, despite her

earlier lecture on how urgently they needed to cross the channel. She had told him

rather explicitly then that this was the only immediate opportunity to do so, but it

appeared that her enthusiasm had faded somewhat since then. He smiled inwardly

as he thought of her still down in the hold. The girl could walk for three days

through the bitter cold of the mountains without once complaining, but she couldn’t

mop a floor.

It only made sense of course. As a Keeper in Venir, her life would have been

focused on her training, and if her mother really was the queen, then any sort of

manual labor had probably been assigned to someone else. His face grew dark once

more as he remembered the story. Daughter of the queen and Keeper of the Light,

he had the distinct feeling that no one in Venir would be very pleased to learn who

she had chosen for a travelling companion these past few weeks.

He pushed through the open door of the makeshift hospital, frowning as he

caught sight of the newest addition to the wounded who had come in while he was

gone. He set the bucket of water on the floor and faced the man unflinching. The

cracked scabs coating the skin of the man’s nose and the open sneer that sat upon

his face made him easily identifiable as the sailor that Seth had disabled last night

when they had first come onto the ship.

The physician running the infirmary looked up as he came in. “Ah, good.” he

nodded happily as he caught sight of the shining surface of the water. “This will be

very helpful.” Seth placed the odd man somewhere in his late twenties, but his

distracted manner and short attention span was closer to that of a boy. The

physician seemed oblivious to the angry glares sent his way from the man on the cot

across from them. He continued on with his explanation about how to remedy head

injuries and set broken bones without ever taking notice of the disgruntled

deckhand. Lars was the man’s name, as Seth seemed to recall, and he seemed at the

moment to be channeling all his resentment from his injury directly at the one who

had caused it and was now standing casually alongside the physician treating him.

Seth turned his attention back to the healer and the work at hand. Three of

the men had been injured by a broken mast that had crushed one man’s legs, and

broken the arms of another two, but the other three down in the sick room were the

ones wounded by Seth and Viera. With six men disabled, he could see what the

captain meant by being short-handed. Still, he could not say that he enjoyed the

incessant prattle of the physician nor did he particularly relish the irritated

grumbles of the men stretched out on the beds.

After quickly setting the broken bones of the other sailors and checking on

the unconscious form of the man who had been struck in the head by the hilt of

Seth’s sword, the healer bent over to inspect the brute, Lars’ nose. He looked at the

unsightly gash with a frown. “It seems to have set slightly crooked. You should have

come here sooner instead of gambling last night with those other fool deck hands.”

Seth did not like the sound of that, remembering clearly the clod who had

taken their things before tossing them into the cellar. At least Viera had kept

possession of the Xerkzes stone; it would be bad news for everyone if that had been

lost.

Crell rose to his feet, gravely assessing the wound before turning to leave.

Though fickle with most things, he seemed quite serious about his job and Seth

could see why the captain had hired him, despite his flaws. “I’m going to have to

reset that before it heals over completely, and I’ll have to go get some more Comfrey

for the gash.” He glanced at Seth a moment as if considering sending him before

seeming to change his mind. “No, no. There’s just too many mistakes when I send

someone else. I’ll send them to go and get Vervain, and they come back with

Valerian. No, it simply won’t do.” He walked away, muttering to himself about

people’s sad lack of what should be common knowledge, though Seth knew that to

most people, none of the strange names Crell had said in the past few sentences

would mean anything.

The sailor Lars continued to glare at him as the physician left the room. Seth

continued to ignore him, going about his work without so much as glancing his way.

“Why don’t you come over here boy,” the man taunted. “and I'll repay you for this

little mark and show you what it feels like to have your nose broken, ya little

whelp!”

Seth turned to face the man, his face emotionless and his eyes frighteningly

cold. “You try and I can break more than just your nose.” It was a simple statement,

said without anger of any sort, but the man made no move to get up, saying nothing

more until the physician returned with his herbs.

The hours passed slowly and Seth watched intently as the sun slowly began

to sink below the horizon, the limited view out of the porthole in the cabin not

allowing him to see whether or not they had reached land. He went up on deck and

saw that the ship was not moving. He asked one of the sailors about it and the man

began grumbling about broken rudders and damaged spars. “Have to keep still till

it’s fixed,” he sighed. “Else we’ll drift of course.”

Viera sat leaning against the rail. She was back in her regular clothes,

lounging idly against the side. For all her outer calm however, she was clearly upset

about the delay.

He moved over to see her, but she did not look up as he came, her eyes fixed

out on the horizon where a thin layer of fog was rolling across the broad stretch of

the channel. “With all the bad that has already happened, now the bloody rudder

has to break.” she murmured.

“It will be fixed soon.” Seth assured her. “Besides, we’re probably safer out on

the water than on the land where we can be attacked at any time.”

Viera nodded, her face going bleak. “Any of my fellow Keepers would be

disgraced if they learned about today.”

He stared at her in confusion, realizing suddenly that her complaint about

the delay had not been related to the sorceress following them as he had assumed.

He leaned against the siding and she continued sadly. “Scrubbing floors like a maid.

It is simply not done, not by the one of the Falir Al Tear, especially not daughter to

the Queen!”

He felt like laughing aloud. “This is what you are upset about?”

She glared at him, color rising in her cheeks. “You are not Venishian; you

would not understand. Menial chores such as what I’ve done today are only

delegated to those who have disgraced themselves or the poorest beggar in need of

money.”

“We are being hunted by the Nocturne, you travel with a murderer born of

the Lands of Night, and this is what concerns you?” Seth said, his tone incredulous.

She turned on him. “You know nothing! Why am I even telling you this? It is

courageous and noble to retrieve the stone. Fighting the dark is what I have been

trained for my whole life. Why should it frighten me? But to serve under a bunch of

foul-mouthed sailors on a filthy cargo ship, and now to have another day added to

the punishment is hopelessly depressing.”

He stared at her at a loss for words, his usual calm abandoned. “I’m going

below.” she declared suddenly. “If you had any dignity you would be troubled too.”

the last part was a muttered whisper as she strode angrily away, and he shook his

head wonderingly. One of the most cool, persevering people he had ever met, she

had suffered through long days of hiking through the mountains, sleeping on the

cold, damp soil night after night, and going through life threatening situations, yet

one day working at everyday chores had seemingly ruined her mood.

The last of the light had begun to leave the sky and Seth moved below to the

small mess hall to grab something to eat before going off to bed. It troubled him that

Cariwen had refused to return their possessions until they left the ship, though it

made sense that the captain had ordered it after the injuries his men had already

suffered. Should have demanded that we receive them before we do any work. Now

he won’t return them until the last moment and I can’t complain because he never

said they would be returned right away.

He filled a small tray with slabs of meat and vegetables from the kitchen. The

salted beef and shrivelled greenery were a little less than fresh, but they would do.

He moved over to a table near the back of the room, most of the sailors leaning

drunkenly across filled mugs of ale as they scarfed down their meals. One of the

sailors however, sat straight despite his drunkenness, the faint stitches crossing his

nose the only sign of the previous welt. Crell had done a fair job.

Seth felt the man’s sour glare hot upon his back as he sat down to eat. Lars

was clearly not in a very rational state, but he had not drunk enough yet to impair

his coordination as some of the others had. He rubbed angrily at his nose, his glare

only intensifying at Seth’s lack of response. Humiliation at being bested by a

seventeen year old boy likely had more to do with his hatred than the wound itself,

but the reasons behind the dislike did not really matter, only the events that would

result from it.

The man clearly still hated him for what had happened the first night when

he came to the ship, but for all his bulk and bravado, he was not the type to attack

someone openly when he knew the odds were not necessarily in his favor. The sailor

could probably crush him like a fly if it came down to a battle of brute strength

alone, but Seth’s training and instinct made him a better fighter. The mark from

the last time the sailor had tried to attack him was proof of the fact. However, in his

current state, there was no telling what he would do.

Seth was almost halfway through his meal when Lars sauntered over to him,

his breath reeking with the stench of strong beer as he leaned over to speak. “Ya

know, I never really did get ’round to finishin’ what I were sayin’ earlier.” He spoke

with a heavy slur, his tone angry and jeering. “I don’t like ya, and ya shouldn’t be

here. If ya had any sense, ya wouldn’t be!”

Seth spun around to face him, rising to confront the figure in front of him.

“You should leave. Lars is it? Leave and go back to your drink before it’s too late.”

He said it coldly, not allowing anger to tinge his voice, but it was a provocative

statement nonetheless. The brute deserved some type of lesson. Fool! He's double

your size. A voice in the back of Seth’s mind screamed, though he gave it no

credence.

The man flushed with anger, his teeth grinding together as his dark eyes

filled with a dangerous light. “I’m not going anywhere you little...”

Seth drove his knee into the man’s groin, already seeing the slight clenching

of the meaty fist as it drew back to strike and not waiting for the blow. The man

keeled over with a moan, stumbling backwards with an unsteady lurch that was

caused by a mix of pain and heavy drinking. A few of the sailors glanced at them

from over the rims of their glasses, the mood of the room becoming strained with

sudden tension.

The stocky sailor recovered from the blow with surprising swiftness, eyes

burning with a crazed fury, the alcohol boiling his blood and boosting his strength.

Seth swore silently, sidestepping a heavy swing that shattered the plate lying

behind them on the table. The man howled with rage as the shards of glass pierced

the skin of his hand and Seth took the opportunity to deliver a strong kick to his

exposed back. He was not an expert fist-fighter, but years on the street had taught

him enough to hold his ground in an even match, but judging by how little the man

seemed to feel of his blows, he had a feeling this was not the same.

The man rushed toward him and he slammed both his fists into Lars’

midsection, a strike that would have knocked the breath out of most people but now

only staggered his opponent. A strong kick came up and caught Seth in the side,

breaking through his guard and striking him in the ribs. He gasped with pain and

the man was on him in a second, an iron grip locking around his throat while the

other hand raised to strike.

By now the other sailors were up on their feet, the timid faced cabin boy

disappearing out the door at a dead run. Some of the sailors egged the man on while

others just stood there shaking their heads. They viewed it as a sick kind of

entertainment, though that was hardly surprising considering their character.

Seth raised his hand to ward of the punch aimed at the side of his face,

kneeing the man in the stomach while jerking backward to break the grip. Spots

had begun to dance before his eyes and the man recovered far too quickly for

comfort, growling foul curses under his breath as he charged towards him once

more. Seth had landed far more blows than he, but it was obvious who held the

upper hand.

A particularly hard swing caught Seth right under the jaw and he stumbled

back from his assailant in a daze, his mind quickly scanning all the options open to

him. A peculiar feeling began to arise inside of him and he warded off the next blow

with the steadily increasing energy buzzing through his head.

The door of the room flew open and the captain emerged, face contorted with

anger as he took in the scene before him. He raised his voice commandingly but

neither combatant seemed to hear him.

The fight had taken both men across the room and Seth stood now backed

against the wall, the tingling that sped through his limbs as he fought making it

hard to concentrate. The man grabbed him by the shirtfront and raised his fist to

strike, but a sudden burst of energy flowed through Seth and into the brute across

from him, preventing the blow from landing. A strange euphoria accompanied the

attack, and the dark energy tore at the man with shocking ferocity. Then the feeling

of elation fled and Seth finally realized what was happening. Dark magic held the

man frozen, shudders ripping through his body as he jerked from side to side like a

puppet on invisible strings. Seth cut of the flow with a gasp, the tingle of electricity

that had coursed through him fading away with the end of the attack.

The man collapsed shivering to the floor, muttering incoherently as his eyes

stared blankly ahead at something only he could see. He was alive, but how much

damage the magic had done was yet to be seen. Not just the magic, Seth thought

faintly. Me. I did it.

The captain’s face had gone pale, all his usual haughty composure having

vanished with the sight of the man lying twitching on the floor. Seth strode quickly

away from the trembling figure, pushing past the men circled around them and

heading toward the door.

The captain reached out with a trembling hand to stop him as he went, his

voice low and foreboding as he spoke. “I want no trouble from the empire, alright?

I’ve paid my due and I haven’t told anyone.” Seth did not change expression upon

hearing the remark, but a dark suspicion began to form.

The other sailors were too far away to hear, but even so the captain dared not

speak any louder than a whisper. “I know the dark arts when I see them.” the man

continued. “That witch on the docks was using them. I thought she was after you,

though I had my suspicions, you do look like one of...” he swallowed. “One of them.

But you were travelling with a Keeper. I suppose everyone has their price. She

knows, and if she was still with the Light, you would have killed each other by now.

I don’t want anyone hurt... I’ve finished my dealings with your kind, you hear!” he

whispered furiously. Seth barely stopped himself from flinching at the words. Your

kind. “I’m done with the empire. You can stay on my ship for now, but when we

reach land, you tell the emperor I want no more of his business.” He backed away,

his voice cracking slightly as he finished the words. “No more.”

Seth strode down the corridor to the cabin the captain had assigned to them

earlier that day. He remembered the feeling of the magic as it had filled him,

electric and alive. It no longer turned his stomach as it had just the last time he

used it. It appeared that the captain was one of those who had dealings with the

Nocturne, but apparently he had seen more than enough of the emperor and his

servants.

Seth shivered as he stopped before the doorway to the cabin. Not all Nocturne

are evil. That’s what Viera had told him, what he had told himself. But the more he

learned of the power they held, the stronger his certainty that, for him at least, it

could not be true.

* * * * *

Viera sat angrily inspecting the set of daggers she had found outside her

door. Apparently the man who had been holding them no longer wanted to be

around the weapons after the incident with his hands.

She had told Seth that she had been going to sleep, but there were too many

things on her mind to even consider the prospect Seth himself was one of the

foremost among them. He laughs at me, laughs as if I’m some sort of amusement. He

already has to pry into everything I don’t want him to know, now he has to laugh

about it! She rolled her eyes. The worst part was she knew it was foolish to be so

upset about performing simple chores. Since when did she care for the hair-brained

rules that kept her from doing things? She had gone after the Xerkzes stone hadn’t

she? Since she was heir to the throne that was strictly forbidden. No underage

Keeper could venture out alone, her least of all.

The fact that Seth actually had a point though made it all the more annoying.

Bloody customs and pride. Why did I tell him that anyway? It’s not like I thought

he'd react any differently than he did. She breathed deeply to calm herself. It was

not mopping that had made her so anxious about the ship’s lack of progress, not

that she enjoyed that kind of work, and not that it wasn’t disgraceful, but more

pressing issues wore on her. She had told Seth she was not worried about the

sorceress pursuing them, but in truth she was terrified. The woman had tossed her

aside like a rag doll. The next time they met, she would not escape, and if the

empire regained possession of the Xerkzes stone, they were all doomed.

She ran her hands through her hair, removing the long band of velvet that

kept it tied back from her face. She was not supposed to be afraid of such things.

She had trained her whole life to face them and here she was biting her nails over

one dark magic wielder, unable to overcome even this one obstacle in order to save

her people.

She stared down at her hands, silently fuming. She had probably been more

mad at herself when she had spoken than she had at Seth, but it was easier to

blame the people who had made her do such degrading work, easier to blame such a

foolish thing than to focus on the fears she kept locked deep inside her. It was her

duty to be brave, even if she was not.

The figure was already halfway to his bed before she noticed anyone was

there. It disturbed her how silent Seth could be when he wanted to, coming and

going like a ghost without the slightest indication that he was ever there in the first

place. She took a closer look at his face as he sank down upon the cot. He wore

steadily the mask of impassive calm that concealed his emotions, but the bleak

depression that had crept into his eyes slipped through the disguise.

Her eyes narrowed in concern and he met her gaze with a calm

impassiveness, but he could not deceive her as easily as he seemed to believe. “Why

are you back so early?” she asked softly.

He shifted position uncomfortably and she noticed suddenly the odd way he

held himself, as if sitting erect had become difficult. She glanced down at his side, a

sudden suspicion beginning to form. She moved over to him before he could protest,

pushing back the dark material of his shirt and seeing clearly the ugly purple

bruise already beginning to flower all along the left side of his ribs. She looked up at

him in surprise and caught sight of another dark impression lining the side of his

jaw, though in the dim light of the room she had not seen it before. “Who...”

He shook his head before she could continue. “It doesn’t matter. They’re in

worse shape than I am. I guarantee it, and not just from a few bruises.”

She bit her lip, a habit she had developed whenever she was troubled.

Suddenly she was no longer so curious as to the reason he was so distraught. “The

magic?” she asked quietly, though it was more a statement than a question.

He did not respond to her query. “It would be best if we got off this ship as

soon as possible. The captain knows what happened... Apparently he’s had dealings

with the empire in the past. I doubt he would tell anyone, but still...” He shook his

head, his dark eyes brooding. “I’m going to sleep. If we haven’t reached the far side

of the bay by tomorrow, I’ll swim.”

She rocked back on her heels as he rolled over to sleep without even

bothering to undress. She remembered her earlier anger and instantly regretted it.

Worse still, was that she could not quite dismiss the trepidation and distrust she

felt whenever she remembered who it was she travelled with. She thought of

offering to heal his injuries, but he probably would not appreciate the suggestion.

He had a strange idea of what to hold himself accountable for and suffering through

the pain of the bruises was probably his way to ensure he would not forget the

incident.

She sat back down on the bed across from his, carefully putting away the set

of Seraphen daggers that had been laid out on the cot. She reached up to touch the

spreading branches of the tree on the necklace she wore. It was the symbol of the

Keepers of the Light, to protect life and stand strong and unmoved against the

forces of dark; that was her duty. It was as simple as that. The Nocturne and their

servants were the enemy and she must stop them at all costs. She glanced uneasily

at the person across from her, lying unmoving under the onslaught of his thoughts.

Things had become a lot more complicated since she had left Venir.

She leaned forward to blow out the small lamp sitting on the table at the side

of her bed. The resulting darkness flooded through the room with a frightening

suddenness. She lay there in the dark for a long time, her shallow breathing the

only sound to disturb the silence that enshrouded them.

* * * * *

Seth stared calmly out into the encroaching twilight, the far shore finally

coming to greet them as the ship drew up alongside an aged wooden dock. The

damaged equipment that had been stalling them had been repaired sometime

around mid-day, but the delay had made what should have been one day’s travel

into double that. The second day aboard the ship had been a strenuous affair. Word

of the scuffle between Seth and the deckhand Lars had spread during the night, and

even the usual distracted chatter from the healer Crell was absent as he and Viera

worked in the sickbay to aid in the recovery of the injured sailors. Viera had been

much more help than he, using her training to mend broken bones and heal gashes

with expert skill, though she had been unable to do anything for Lars, biting her lip

as she made her first attempt and whispering solemnly that she was not well

trained enough to counteract such potent dark magic.

Seth had left a short time after that, frustrated at being able to do nothing

more than watch. He could harm them so easily, yet he could do nothing to heal. He

soon found harder work to occupy his thoughts, moving cargo that needed to be

restocked, cleaning the deck, and other small tasks. The captain did not so much as

look at him as he passed, avoiding him like the plague as did many others of the

crew. The only person who did not react any differently to his presence was the first

mate and navigator, Cariwen Cross, who was just as harsh and collected as ever

when ordering him about.

He moved over to where Viera was just emerging from the stairway leading

to the lower decks of the cargo ship, her clothing slightly rumpled but otherwise

unchanged. She had refused to change out of her usual garb today and since most of

her work had been in the infirmary anyway, Seth figured it had not done any harm.

The first mate however, greatly disapproved of the decision since it went against

her earlier “suggestion”, and she shot Viera an irritated look as she came up to join

them on deck.

The captain of the ship lay shouting orders at the sailors, chastising them for

their lack of alacrity, even though they were not really working all that slowly.

Cariwen Cross moved over to speak with them as Viera came up on deck, her face

calm and collective as always. “This is where we will be parting ways I expect. The

captain sends his... regards. Now, we have business to do so feel free to leave.

Leaving right now would be preferable.”

Viera shook her head. “It may have slipped your mind, but the possessions

that were confiscated have not yet been returned.” she glanced down at her waist

where her daggers lay concealed. “Not all of them anyway.”

The woman scoffed, rolling her eyes in irritation. “Yes, yes, you’ll have them

in a moment.” She turned to the crewman still tying off lines near the side, her

expression stern as she saw two of them taking a break while others still worked.

“Gorin, Zal, get over here.” she shouted. Two ragged looking men hurried over to

meet them, their brows drenched in sweat from the work of moving the cargo and

setting the lines. They shot uneasy looks at Seth and he thought he recognized them

as two of the many who had witnessed last night’s encounter. “Go find Ryne and tell

him to return the supplies he confiscated from these two ’ere. And tell him that

means all their equipment. If I find out he’s been filching money again and that he’s

gone and gambled it away, I’ll have his hide! And you,” she continued, focusing on

the shorter of the two who had been addressed as Zal. “go find Selk Furlyn and tell

him to do something useful and go get those daggers he’s bin play’n with.”

Viera opened her mouth to speak and Cariwen shot her an exasperated look.

“Ya want something else girl?”

“No need to send him for the daggers. Someone already returned them last

night.” She snorted. “At least someone had the sense not to mess with ’em.”

She shot an angry glance at the two standing mumbling in front of her. “What are

you two still doing here? I thought I told you to do something. Now get going Gorin,

and Zal, go back to work. One last thing; if I ever see you lazy louts taking more

unscheduled breaks, like the one you were on a few moments ago, you’ll be

scrubbing floors for the next month and you’ll have no chance for lounging about

then!” The two hurried off, disappearing beneath the hatch that led below.

Cariwen turned back towards Seth and Viera, opening a chest that lay off to

one side of the deck and tossing Seth the silver, engraved sword, the hilt feeling

right at home in his hand as he fluidly plucked it from the air and drew it from its

sheath. He examined the blade for a moment before returning it to its leather

casing. Cariwen only nodded. “Ryne and Furlyn were sent to lock away the

remainder of your things, but the sword... interested me. It’s been a long time since

I’ve visited my home in the south, but I still recognize the emblems of the noble

houses serving his majesty Gabriel Sadar.” His dark eyes raised to meet hers and

the corners of her mouth twitched upward in what he thought might be a smile. “A

little far away from home aren’t you? Not to mention the fact that you don’t look

much like a southlander at all.” the smile faded. “But hearing about last night, I

guess you aren’t. I suppose I don’t really want to know how you obtained the sword

if you’re allied with them.”

She shifted her gaze to Viera. “A Keeper and an imperial agent, strange

company indeed.” Viera stared at her with a slight frown tugging down the corners

of her mouth. The woman’s earlier accent had faded, her speech becoming that of a

regular southerner.

Gorin appeared with bundles of supplies grasped loosely in his hands,

muttering under his breath about stupid sailors and their temper. He passed Viera

the strangely carved bow that Ryne had found in their packs, followed by the two

pouches of money, Seth already knowing by the weight that some was missing.

Viera counted hers until she was satisfied it was all accounted for, but Seth shook

his head at Cariwen before he even bothered to open it.

The first mate frowned, her eyes turning accusingly on Gorin. “It seems my

message was not relayed as well as it should have been, Gorin. Our good

passenger’s baggage seems to be light some change.” Seth looked searchingly at the

woman as she spoke, noticing that the thick accent matching that of the other

sailors had re-emerged once more.

“Shouldn’t be surprised,” the man mumbled, his eyes downcast. “Amazing the

greedy bastard was willing to let go of a penny, takes a whole pouch of gold and

thinks no one will notice.”

Cariwen gave the man an appraising look. “If you can find the time Gorin,

feel free to inform Ryne he won’t be paid for some time until he’s made up fer his

debt. He’ll see not so much as one scrap of copper until he pays back what he owes

me, as well as compensation for his stupidity.”

Gorin winced with faked sympathy, a slight smile dancing around the edges

of his eyes. “The man owes quite a few people a fair bit of money mam. Of course I

feel such sympathy for the poor blighter, but justice is justice.” he walked away at a

slow saunter. The man would have no trouble delivering the message, most likely

with a few added punishments the first mate had not mentioned.

Despite the written rank, Seth got the feeling that perhaps it was Cariwen

who really ran the ship, for the most part anyway. She handed him a stack of

coppers that she had extracted from her purse without bothering to ask how much

he had lost. “Probably more than you were carrying before, but it will do Ryne some

good to do some actual work for a change.”

They set off down toward the docks, leaving the ship and its residents behind.

The man, Lars, stuck his head out of the hatch leading below as they left, all his

earlier anger and hostility replaced by white-faced fear. He had woken from his

trance some hours earlier, staring at Seth with wide eyes. Seth did not like to think

about what the man may have experienced, but he suspected that the sailor would

no longer be as belligerent and demeaning as he had acted once before.

The captain watched from the corner of his eye as they disappeared beyond

the line of trees leading away from the docks, the slight shift of his stance showing

that he was relieved to see them go. The Scallion’s crew then began the task of

unloading its cargo, where it would then be carried a few miles inland to a

neighbouring city for trade.

Viera and Seth walked for some time before coming to a small village where

they could find shelter for the night. Seth was relieved to be away from the

oppressive confines of the ship, but he could not escape the real thing that held him

bound, and it came with him into the village as surely as a dog followed its master.

The magic would not leave. It stayed with him, hidden somewhere beneath the

surface and he could not ignore the depressing knowledge that eventually he would

use it once more.

* * * * *

Captain Soulien Renold sat slumped in the padded leather chair placed

behind the broad mahogany desk in his cabin, reviewing the papers and documents

spread out around the table. The cargo would be carried inland on the morrow to a

small city, the name of which he could not remember. It would then be delivered to

the appointed places and they would receive payment from the shop owners for

their work.

The impending delivery was not what was really on his mind however as he

stared unseeingly at the endless lines of ink. The boy’s face lingered in his mind, the

sickly dark light he had seen used against his sailor sending chills throughout his

body. He remembered the other times he had seen such magic used, times when he

had not done his job to the satisfaction of his mysterious employer, and the

memories still haunted him. None of his men knew of the boy’s background he

suspected, but the incident still frightened them, as well it should.

Soulien had once had dealings with the Nocturne in delivering information

and smuggling supplies out of Faelyon after the failure of their infiltration of the

south. Such crimes made him a traitor to his people but that had not deterred him.

The empire paid well for the services he provided, but in the end the price had been

too great. The punishment for failure was harsh within the Lands of Night, and the

people who had paid him had not been satisfied when he did not comply with their

demands.

He shivered in disgust. Five years now away from the people and just when

he thought he had heard the last of them, here was another. He did not know what

the boy’s business was and he did not want to. He did his best to dismiss the

incident from his mind but the suspicion lingered. Nocturne business never ended

so easily; these types of things always had a toll.

The shadows lining the room suddenly seemed to condense, and a figure

detached itself from the far wall. Robed all in black with white hair spilling down

from under her cowl she strode toward him with a cold inexorability that made him

shudder. He reached instantly for his sword but she jerked her wrist and his hand

seized up, his entire body rendered immobile. The woman raised her face to the

light, her eyes dark pools as they bored into his face. “Tell me of the two passengers

you carried across the channel.”

He stared at her in frozen terror, a ripple of pain coursing through him as he

failed to reply. “I expect to be answered when I ask you a question, worm.” she

hissed. “Do you understand, or do you need more persuading?”

He nodded frantically, hazel eyes wide with anxiety. “Yes, I understand. I

understand.”

She nodded, her pale lips parting in a devilish smile. “You know what I am,

don’t you? Ah... I see. You were one of those worthless vermin who served the

empire to carry information, am I right?” He nodded fervently and she continued

smoothly. “It seems you have not outlived your usefulness after all. Now...the boy

and the girl? I know you helped them.”

“I did not know who they were.” he almost whimpered. “They came when we

were already setting sail. The girl was a Keeper, the boy... I thought, might be one

of...well, one of yours.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And what led you to believe that? Be careful with

your answer. I grow tired of hearing things I already know.” She spoke in a

disinterested tone, her face emotionless and marked with unmistakable arrogance.

“There was an incident. The magic, the kind I’ve seen,” he swallowed. “you

use. He came close to killing one of my sailors. Why are you looking for them

anyway if...”

Dozens of razors seemed to scrape across his skin and he cried out in agony.

The sorceress barely even changed expression except to show a brief flash of

irritation. “My reasons for what I do are none of your concern.” She stated coolly.

“Now, I’ll ask again, where have they gone? Answer correctly this time or you will

pray for death before I am done.”

“They went west. Moving inland. There’s a small town a few miles away from

here in the forest lining the bay. They might have stayed there.”

She looked away from him, her voice flat and menacing as she spoke. “This

talk has been a waste of my time it seems. Your men will wake up in a few hours,

but I do not believe you will be there to see them.”

The man’s mouth opened as if to speak but a searing pain tore through his

gut, cutting off his words in a blinding flash of pain. He howled till his voice was

hoarse but still the pain continued. It took Soulien a long time to die. The woman

had been sure to keep her promise, and he begged for death before she was done.

* * * * *

Nyea Aterre strode silently out of the finely furnished cabin, the captain of

the ship a limp form staring in horror at something far beyond her, his mouth open

in the twisted reminiscent of a scream. She had learned next to nothing about

where the boy and girl had fled, but at least the man’s death had served to soothe

her temper, for the moment at least.

The foolish girl would pay for taking advantage of her as she had, taking her

by surprise and trapping her in the square. She would pay for the act, both of them

would. The aggravating thing however was that Nyea’s visions were clouded by the

presence of the boy, the fog becoming steadily worse until she could no longer see

where her prey was headed. They would seek to reach Venir no doubt, but how and

when was a mystery. She scowled in anger. Stupid child! She had not been able to

see Silena either, but that the boy escaped her visions as well made things all the

more difficult. She could only imagine what Voren would say if he learned of the

flaw. Arrogant Fool! The sorceress thought gloomily. I will kill you one day. I will!

But she could not act against him; the empire must stand. The rule of Night must

extend to engulf the pathetic cities of the south. One day...

She strode down the dirt path that led off into the trees, closing her eyes in

concentration and seeing flickered images of a small village a few miles west, the

small inn in the center of town fading from sight as two indistinct figures moved

towards it. She opened her eyes, a satisfied smirk dancing around the corner of her

mouth. Fog or not, she still had her tricks; the Venishian and her companion would

not escape. She set off along the trail, already scanning in her mind the numerous

places and cities that were blocked from her sight.

* * * * *

Chapter XII

Jack of Trades

Seth stirred sluggishly from his horror-filled dreams. It had been a long

time since he had dreamt anything but nightmares. Still, the visions had grown

worse since learning of his heritage and coming on this quest. The pale gray light of

dawn spilled in through the slanted windows of the small room he had rented for

the night. Viera slept in a similar chamber in the hall across from him, the Xerkzes

stone sealed safely away in its casing.

He rose to his feet, pulling on his loose fitting garments. Venir was still

weeks away from them and the strain of travel was beginning to wear on him. Viera

had taken to leading since she seemed well able to find her way through the

network of cities and roads with far more efficiency than she had in the wild. He

had never been this far west before; a few old maps he had briefly glimpsed while

wandering through his mentor, Therin Whitewood’s library were the only depictions

of this part of the realm that he had seen, so it made more sense that she would

lead. Still, she seemed to be far too indecisive in their route and he got the feeling

that though she may very well lead them to Venir unharmed, she was just as likely

to get them lost.

He strapped on his sword, no longer needing to hide it as many people living

this close to the mountains carried such weapons, and they were too far west for

someone to recognize the emblem. He left his cloak tucked away in his pack along

with the various other supplies they had purchased from the market for the long

journey ahead.

He stopped briefly outside Viera’s door to ensure she was still inside, the soft

sound of her breathing telling him she was still sound asleep. He descended the

worn wooden stairs of to the main room of the inn. It was a small homely building

with only a few dozen rooms and a fairly old owner who was all smiles and soft

words. The fire in the main room had burned out and the hollow silence that lay

over the building was oddly comforting. No one else was up at this hour, but sleep

seldom came very easily for Seth and to receive more than a few hours was

uncommon.

He stepped out into the unpaved streets, moving toward a well that lay at the

far side of the city to replenish their water supply before they set out. He had given

up the notion of leaving shortly after Viera caught up to him during his first

attempt in Faelyon. It seemed she was determined to keep him around, though the

reason why escaped him, and leaving would most probably only pull her away from

her duty to get the Xerkzes stone safely to Venir. He could not leave, not yet.

Stubborn girl! Why can’t you see it? Dark magic wielders cannot be good! He

continued his steady march through the muddy streets. The words tasted bitter in

his mouth, even though he had not said them aloud and he did his best to remove

the matter from his mind, at least for the moment.

He reached the well and found to his surprise he was not the only person

there; a young girl sat across from him, peering over the side of the chasm. Her

clothing showed the wear and tear of excessive use, the edges frayed and battered.

Her small face lay smudged with dirt, but despite her poverty, she was still a

healthy weight, far better off than the starving beggars that would line the street in

larger cities. She looked up at him as he approached, large brown eyes staring at

him curiously. “You can’t draw no water from the well unless you pay the warden.”

she trilled, her voice high and melodious.

He set down the empty canteen he had been carrying. “And why is that?”

She frowned. “Well, it’s our water. Why should we let strangers have it?”

He stared at her in irritation. She could not be any older than ten, yet she sat

there with a certain condescending stubbornness that surprised him. “You know, I

find it odd that I never heard any of this. The owner of the inn over there said that

the water was free to everyone.”

The girl put on a sweet little smile. “Oh don’t worry. Sam is often mistaken,

age makes the mind befuddled and all that. The warden isn’t around at the

moment, but if you pay the money to me, I’d be happy to give it to him for you.”

“Really.” he said calmly, staring steadily into her eyes and seeing the fake

show of innocence right away. “Most people might be fooled by all those smiles little

girl, but just because the con artist is a child doesn't mean I won’t suspect them.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and abandoned her seat on the rim of the

well. He moved past her unseeing and bent to fill the container. When he looked up

Viera was standing beside him, her green eyes lined with sleep. “Another early

start?” she asked tiredly.

“You didn’t have to follow me.”

She frowned slightly. “I just happened to wake up.” The little girl was

disappearing behind the corner of a building and Viera looked after her uncertainly.

“Who is she? I saw you two talking.”

“Just a kid trying to cheat some money.” he replied calmly and Viera raised

her brow incredulously.

“Really? Why would a ten year old be trying to steal from someone?”

He shrugged, not quite understanding why she found the possibility so

shocking. “I did it when I was her age, though pickpocketing was much easier.”

She widened her eyes even more and he changed subjects smoothly. “Since

you’re already awake, it would probably be best to leave now and get an early start.”

She nodded complacently and they returned to the inn to gather their

possessions before setting out. They were met by the grinning face of the innkeeper,

still gowned in his nightclothes and suppressing the odd yawn as he spoke. Viera

refused his offers of breakfast before they left, thanking him for his hospitality and

sliding away to rejoin Seth at the door of the inn.

They moved out into the streets, entering the hushed landscape of the slowly

awakening town. Seth’s sword was belted securely at his waist in plain view of all

who passed, standing out in sharp contrast to Viera’s daggers concealed somewhere

beneath her clothes, her wooden bow hidden behind the large pack at her shoulder.

They had arrived too late last night to find anyone willing to barter for

horses, though they had managed to gather much useful supplies from the

innkeeper Sam. They had both decided not to waste another day trying to find

mounts so they set out on foot down the long road leading to Venir.

They did not speak much as they travelled, looks and motions expressing all

the things that needed to be said. The nearest city, according to the rough map they

had procured from Sam, was Matura, a small mining establishment on the outskirts

of the mountains. After that, the rocky terrain would even out to the rolling hills

and grassland that surrounded the western region near Venir.

Seth’s mind however, was not really focused on their travel route. Events

aboard The Scallion had only managed to cement his belief that as long as the dark

magic lingered within him, there was no way he could serve to do good, much less

enter Venir where everyone would most likely seek to have him executed as a

servant of the empire. He frowned inwardly, his dark eyes contemplating. If he

went through with his plan of course, he would be long gone before Viera was even

aware of it. He had figured out quickly enough how she always seemed to know

where he was. She had not heard him leave that night in Faelyon; he had been sure

to leave no trace or sound that might awaken her. No matter her talents, she had

possessed no way of knowing when he left. It was some form of magic that allowed

her to sense him, but such things had a range. Therin had described similar

abilities in the Venishian magicians who sometimes acted as trackers for the armies

of King Gabriel. Viera had obviously employed the spell as soon as she had sensed

his intentions, though how Viera had anticipated that he would try to leave in the

first place unsettled Seth. He did not like it when anyone could predict his actions,

friend or enemy.

He glanced ahead to where she walked just slightly ahead of him, her slim

figure swaying slightly and moving with the same deathly silence that he possessed.

She seemed unable to see reason when it came to matters about his heritage. She

had seen the magic, seen its effects, so why did she insist on denying the obvious

facts? Sooner or later he would use the magic again. He had little control of it; it

took all his willpower just to abstain from using it, and when threatened the force

seemed to take on a life of its own. He could not blame the magic for such violence

however. Conscious or not, he was the one who directed it, and the things it did

were because of that direction.

Eventually the target of such attacks might not be an enemy, and he could

not risk that. Going to Venir was just about the worst idea in light of these

revelations. Even if he only used the magic against the empire or in the direst of

needs, the Falir Al Tear would surely hold no exceptions to their strict laws about

dark magic.

He glanced forward once more at the girl in front of him. Viera Tyrellen,

daughter of the queen of Venir and Keeper of the Light. By all rights she should be

trying to kill him, or at the least avoid him, yet she seemed less afraid of him than

he was of himself. There it is. He reflected resignedly. Afraid of the magic, afraid of

his people, afraid of himself. Even as a child he had never been afraid of the things

that threatened him, always facing them down and never allowing them to waver

his resolve. But he could not defeat himself and the burden of such knowledge was

beginning to wear on him, though he vowed never to show it.

Fresh bread and dried strips of meat made a fair lunch as they sat by the side

of the road some seven hours later. Viera brushed the crumbs from her skirt; she

had decided to change clothing after too many of the people in the city recognized

the tight-cut embroidered material of her other clothes as Venishian in design. She

kept her old clothing sealed inside her pack, but had taken to wearing a simple

dress colored a pale green, cinched at the waist with gold colored rope. She had kept

on the brown leather boots that ended just below her knee, refusing to wear the thin

slippers that the seamstress who provided her gown suggested. He resisted the

impulse to smile as he remembered her face when the seamstress had commented

on how improper it was for a woman to be tromping about clothed like a man. The

woman had been quite firm in her opinion, commenting that it was about time

Viera changed into some sensible clothes.

Viera wasn’t happy with having to wear a dress, but women in this part of

the realm did not wear anything besides skirts and dresses. It was amazing to see

the contrast, as in cities like Cammen, only the youngest girls wore skirts and the

like. Women had too much work to do to trudge around in heavy skirts all day.

They finished their meal and moved on along the road toward Matura. It was

almost sunset by the time they arrived. Viera commented offhandedly that they

needed to find horses because, as she phrased it, “travelling at this pace will make

it easy for the Nocturne to capture us, and they won’t even have to use foretelling.”

They stayed that night in a large establishment known as The Lady’s Favor,

renting rooms before going back out to find suitable mounts for the journey ahead.

A hard eyed man sold them a pair of horses for almost double their worth, but he

would go no lower than that as it was already 40% less than the original price he

had demanded.

They ate dinner in the common room, Cariwen’s extra coppers proving their

use as the high prices of even this shabby tavern soon began to lighten their purses.

As the hour grew later, more people crowded into the tavern, purchasing drinks and

sitting down to converse, though by the sudden bursts of violence that broke out

every now and then, the conversations did not always end well.

Viera leaned over the table to speak with Seth, pushing away the empty

scrapings on her plate and looking at him sternly. “Four days since the

confrontation on the docks and still no sign of the sorceress who was sent to follow

us. Why would she wait this long? I’d rather know where she is than be left in the

dark and have to keep looking over my shoulder every few minutes.”

He sighed, “There isn’t really much we can do Viera. If she is still following

us, at least she hasn’t caught us yet. The stone will be safe until you get it to Venir.

There’s no point in worrying about it so much.”

A loud shout came from the table across from them and a man flew skidding

across their table, pushing plates and glasses aside as he lay sprawled before them.

The man who had thrown him stood shaking his fist, his face flushed with alcohol

as he shoved aside a hand of cards that had clearly upset him.

The man who had landed on their table stared up at Viera with a

mischievous grin. “Well hello there. What’s a pretty little lass like you doing in a

place like this? I know a real nice place down by the market where we could... Uh

oh.”

The man who had tossed him charged toward the table with an angry roar.

The younger man rolled quickly to the side as a heavy axe swung down and

embedded itself in the table where the man’s head had lain but a few moments past.

The innkeeper yelled at them from the other side of the low bar, but the

brawler paid him no heed, pulling his arm back for another swing. The axe

remained embedded in the table, stuck too tight to remove, but axe or no, the

brute’s thick fist would make quite an impact on the other man’s skull.

The rasp of Seth’s sword as it slid out of its sheath managed to pull the man’s

attention away from his target, the sharp steel levelled firmly against the

assailant’s throat. “I suggest you take your fight elsewhere.” Seth said coolly.

The man frowned, his brow knitting together in discontentment. “The bloody

cheater deserves every blow he’s gettin’!” he growled.

Seth did not reply, his blade pressing forward slightly. The man backed away

with grumbled complaints, taking his drink and trudging angrily out the door. The

man who had been the target of the other man’s anger turned to face them with a

broad grin covering his face. His pale brown hair was tangled with bits of food and

dirt, but he was handsome nevertheless. He was a young man, somewhere in his

mid-twenties with hazel brown eyes and sun browned skin that was common to this

area of the world. He rose to his feet, and judging by the slight sway in his step, his

attacker had not been the only one drunk when the fight began. Seth did not like

the devilish amusement that lit the man’s eyes, and he got the feeling that the

accusation of cheating had been more than just a hunch. “You have my thanks.” the

man breathed. “I was sure that he was going to kill me, not that I couldn’t have

beaten him myself with a little time.” he added, shooting another smile over at

Viera.

Seth kept his face impassive as he spoke, but there was a certain edge to his

tone nonetheless. “If you think so, you can go outside and join him. I’d love to watch

and see how you do.”

The man’s smile faded, but his tone remained jovial. “Maybe not the best of

ideas, that one. Think I’ll just stay in here.”

Viera kept her face expressionless, but a slightly amused look danced around

the corners of her eyes and Seth had to resist the impulse to glare at the other man.

“Why was that man so angry with you anyway?” Viera asked softly.

“’Twas quite uncalled for really.” the scoundrel said forlornly. “I won quite a

bit of money off the fellow and he got the idea that I was cheating.”

“Were you?” Seth questioned.

The man cleared his throat. “Only slightly. It certainly wasn’t worthy of the

reaction that fellow gave. Nasty temper that one.” He glanced down at their packs,

propped against the table. “Travelling are you? Well, I do happen to do quite a bit of

travelling myself. Know the whole of the region like the back of my hand. Bad for a

lady to be travelling alone in foreign country.” he said seriously, his eyes skimming

right over Seth. “Of course you got that gentleman there with his sword, but you

can never be too safe.”

Viera smiled slightly, and Seth could tell by the look on her face that she had

gotten an idea. He shook his head before she could say a word, already knowing

what she was about to propose. “No. Maybe we don’t know the land quite as well as

we should, but being a little lost is better than confiding in total strangers.” he said

coldly.

“Ah, so you don’t have a guide then.” the man remarked. He had gotten back

that mischievous smile, and the look made Seth’s frown deepen.

Viera glanced imploringly at Seth. “You said yourself that I don’t know this

place well enough. I never have been good at navigating. And you know even less

than I do this far west.”

Seth sighed. “Fine, but only for a while. I can’t exactly trust a man who we

met because he was almost killed in a bar fight for cheap gambling.”

The man frowned. “It wasn’t that bad. I only had a few extra cards. Not

everyone can afford to leave such things to chance.”

“We never got your name, did we?” Viera said questioningly.

The man bowed low, flourishing his crumpled hat that he had picked up from

where it had fallen on the floor. “Jack Fairenwey, traveller, guide, and entertainer,

at your service.”

Seth rose to his feet. “Meet us at dawn tomorrow in the stables out back if

you’re coming. We’ll leave then, with or without you.”

Jack reached out to stop him as he left, his eyebrow raised in question. “You

never did happen to mention where exactly we would be going.”

Seth did not change expression. “Venir.” he stated bluntly.

The man’s expression underwent a subtle change, a hint of hesitation

entering his eyes. Seth felt a surge of hope; perhaps the man wasn’t coming after

all, but Viera caught the look as well. “We would be happy to pay you for your

services of course. Twenty gold pieces would do nicely I think.” Seth stared at her

incredulously, feeling a flash of anger.

Jack quickly regained his earlier humor, that irksome grin sliding back into

place. “A gracious offer, my lady.” he praised. “I shall see you tomorrow then.”

Seth shook his head at the unexpected turn of events. He blocked the matter

from his mind, moving over to the double flight of stairs leading up to his room

overlooking the street on the third floor of the building. He sunk down onto the

lacquered wooden bed, intent on getting at least a little sleep before dealing with

the stress that tomorrow was likely to bring.

Viera entered slowly behind him, her lips pursed in apparent dissatisfaction.

“I take it you don’t like our guide?”

He glanced back at her, his dark eyes stern. “It just seems like a poor choice,

but then again, considering that I was your first guide, it seems you don’t make

very good decisions in that department.”

Her expression darkened, and she exhaled slowly, biting back the words she

had been about to say in reply. “What’s really bothering you? You’ve been like this

all day.”

He looked away. “The same thing that’s been bothering me since that first

night with the Demor.” No harm in telling her that part. He turned abruptly,

moving over to one of the small pallets set up along the wall. “I’m going to sleep. I’ll

wake you at dawn.” She said nothing in reply and he removed his boots before

sliding under the covers to rest, hoping unrealistically that his dreams would hold

something other than the usual stretch of horror-filled memories.

* * * * *

Warm golden light seeped slowly through the cracked panes of the dirt-

smudged windows in Viera’s room. She raised her head from where it lay resting in

the crook of her elbow, peering around the small enclosure, and staring tiredly at

the sun which was just beginning its ascent through the sky to peek above the

horizon.

She dressed quickly in the pale green dress she had donned for travel. She

pulled on her dark brown boots, belting the garment at the waist and grimacing at

the long skirt that stopped just short of her ankles. She had ordered the seamstress

who had crafted it to cut it off short instead of having it drag along the ground like

most of the designs she had seen. The dress itself wasn’t really what bothered her;

it was more the fact that she had to wear it in order not to stand out. She had of

course worn gowns of this sort while in Venir, but only on special occasions. It was

impractical to travel in such cumbersome clothing, and there was always the

possibility that the next time they were forced to run, the material would become

snagged, or cause her to lose her footing and the empire would regain the Xerkzes

stone all because the people here were not sensible enough to wear pants.

She strapped two of her daggers to the inside of her sleeves, placing the other

three concealed at her waist. At least the dress made it easy to hide them, and for

some odd reason, no one seemed to suspect her of carrying weapons while wearing

the thing.

She picked up the small satchel from where it lay already packed on the floor.

She had left the bow along with the bulk of their supplies strapped to the saddle of

the horse she had purchased from the weasel-faced man in the market, so the small

bundle of clothes was all she need worry about.

She stepped out into the hallway and found the door across from her left

open. She closed her eyes, engaging the magic she had placed around Seth and

finding him down in the stables. She had cast the spell their first night in Faelyon

after seeing his reaction to the telepath’s revelations about his parents. It had been

easy to predict his reaction to such news, and a simple charm she had learned early

on in her training had given her the means to sense where he was, and alert her

when he drew too far away. She wasn’t surprised that he was already awake, the

boy didn’t sleep much, but she checked each time she found him gone just to be sure

he really had given up the hare-brained idea of leaving.

She sighed as she remembered their last conversation on the subject. He

seemed convinced that no matter what he did, being of the Nocturne made him evil,

and that staying to help her bring the stone to Venir would only get them both in

trouble. The unfortunate thing about his reasoning was that it was not entirely

wrong. Her people would not be pleased to have a wielder of dark magic inside their

walls. Evil or not, they had their rules, but still, it was against their ways to murder

someone without cause and Seth had not acted against Venir in any way. In fact, by

helping her with the Xerkzes stone he had done them a service. The worst her

mother could do was refuse to allow him entry into the city, but even if they did

declare him an ally of the Nocturne, she was not about to allow him to run off out of

some twisted belief that he was doomed by his heritage.

She crept softly through the deserted halls of the inn to the back door that led

outside to the stables. Jack Fairenwey leaned negligently against the wooden rail of

a stall, idly twirling a steel dagger through his fingers. He raised a hand to the side

of his head as she entered, shielding his eyes and squinting against the pale

streamers of light filtering in from outside. She couldn’t say she trusted the man,

but he knew the country better than they and she was willing to take the risk if it

meant reaching Venir faster.

Seth stood stone-faced beside the large gray he had purchased from the same

man who had sold her the shy mare that brayed nervously in the stall opposite her.

Jack’s horse was a large stallion pacing restlessly in the confines of its stall. The

horses were already saddled, and the two looked ready to depart, simply waiting on

her.

Seth did not look up as she moved over to where her horse stood, opening the

wooden door and readjusting the saddle and reins that she had not bothered to

remove the night previous. The faint glow of sunshine grew steadily brighter as

they mounted and prepared to leave. The heavy double door leading out to the

streets swung open with a low moan as Seth unlatched the gate. Jack winced at the

sound, the effects of last night’s drinking catching up to him. They led their horses

out onto the gritty flagstone path towards the edge of town, Seth in the lead with

Jack and Viera following close behind.

The clouds above them soon began to darken, blotting out the sun and

hanging over them with a menacing promise of the bleak weather that was to come.

Seth seemed to have moved out of last night’s angry silence, though he still shot the

occasional glare at Jack as he continued to smile at her, speaking lightly of the

treacherous route that lay ahead and how he would “protect her” from the dangers

on the road.

Despite Jack being their appointed guide, Seth led them quite a ways into

the country beyond without so much as glancing at the man. Finally he relented

and allowed Jack to take the lead when they came to a fork in the road, the carved

wooden signs having long since rotted and become illegible.

The rainstorm came sometime around midday and they took shelter in an

abandoned hayloft of a run-down farm, waiting out the howling torrents of air and

water that were too violent to travel through safely. Jack leaned against the coarse

bales of straw whittling a small figurine out of a log with the small steel knife he

kept sheathed in the side of his boot. She watched interestedly as the figure took

shape, a tall lithe figure wrapped in flowing robes. Every feature was carved to

perfection and the man smiled as he handed it to her. “For you,” he said, his mouth

quirking up into a smile. “Though I’m afraid it pales in comparison to the woman it

was modelled after.” Viera smiled with suppressed amusement at the compliment,

the figure’s distinct features unmistakable.

Seth shook his head as he watched the exchange, his eyes filled with steadily

darkening disapproval. “Quite the artist, aren’t you?” he remarked dryly, regarding

the figurine with something approaching contempt.

Jack grinned. “I try my hand at quite a few things.”

Seth grunted, pulling his cloak tighter about him as the stream of water from

the damaged roof continued its steady drip. “How long until we reach the next

town?” he questioned Jack, his tone dark.

Their guide shrugged nonchalantly. “Not far.” He stated. “Only a few leagues

or so. We should have been able to reach it by the end of today, but there’s no telling

how much of a delay this rain’s going to cause.”

Viera sighed. Delay of any sort was not good news.

“Let’s just hope this storm doesn’t last for too long.” Seth remarked, casting

Viera a knowing glance and seeming to read her thoughts. “We can’t afford to take

too long in reaching our destination.”

It was hours before the winds died down enough for them to re-emerge into

the afternoon light, the rain subsiding to a faint drizzle as they rode. Viera hung

back a ways from where Jack rode up ahead, reflecting upon the dangers they faced.

Seth rode silently beside her, his gaze intent on the road ahead, though Viera could

not help but feel that he was more focused on keeping an eye on their guide than he

was on their travel route. “You know, he’s not that bad.” Viera remarked casually,

her green eyes intense as they sought out his own. “He’s been helpful enough, and

at least he knows where he’s going. I would think you’d be glad to have him

around.”

Seth arched an eyebrow, his tone cynical. “Really? Well forgive me if I’m not

too enthusiastic about being led by a gambling drunkard. You only like him because

he commits more effort to trying to impress you than he does to our travel route.”

Viera turned in her saddle and faced him directly. “And why is it that this

bothers you so much?” she asked him pointedly.

He looked away from her, his expression ridged. “It doesn’t.”

Viera’s lips quirked upwards in a small grin and Seth’s tone became airy. “I

think the real question is not whether or not our new guide bothers me. What I’d

like to know is the reason you’ve taken such an instant liking to him. I think you

just enjoy bathing in flattery. You are a princess after all. You must miss being

praised.”

Viera’s eyes narrowed, but a call from ahead of them cut off what she had

been going to say. “Are you two coming?” Jack queried. “If you keep going at that

pace we’ll be sleeping under the trees tonight.”

Seth cocked an eyebrow at Viera as if waiting for her to reply and the Keeper

nudged her horse forward to where Jack rode. Nothing further was said about the

matter of their guide.

Dinner was a paltry gathering of various fruits and bread that did not do

much to quell their hunger, but the damp that had permeated everything within a

few miles left them without a fire with which to cook the meat. Because of the

storm, they were unable to reach the town in time for nightfall and they slept on the

damp grass with sodden blankets that made for a cold night with very little sleep.

By morning the weather had cleared up and the rising heat soon managed to

dry out the majority of their supplies. The scattering of trees lining the path grew

steadily denser and they soon entered the western forest bordering the city of

Cecile. In another week’s time they would arrive in Venir and their journey would

end. In only a little longer, they would be safe. Viera kept close watch over the

Xerkzes stone that was tucked away safely in the pouch at her side, the steady buzz

a familiar presence to which she had become accustomed.

Midday came with an unexpected swiftness and Viera stared up at the

towering oaks around them with faint relief. The western woods were a vast region

that stretched miles in every direction surrounding the city of Sorlin. The air was

fresh with life after the long rain, the dew speckled grass glistening in the

streamers of sunlight that filtered down through the leafy canopy above. The

atmosphere of the woods seemed comforting, even if the endless stretch of trunks

still set her teeth on edge. Soon she would be back in Venir, the Xerkzes stone

locked safely away in the Hall of Light. A few days more and it was finished. She

sighed with relief, the sun dappled forest filling her with peace. Yes, soon it would

be finished.

Lunch was a quiet affair, each person too wrapped up in their own thoughts

to take notice of those around them. The sturdy wooden bow made hunting no

problem, though it still bothered Viera to kill things so small and defenceless like

the birds and rabbits they preyed upon. It was quite ridiculous really; a Keeper’s job

was rooted in combat, but killing servants of the dark and killing a small and

vulnerable beady-eyed animal were very different things.

The break lasted only a few short moments before they were once again on

their way with Jack in the lead, Viera riding second, and Seth plodding steadily

behind. Jack prattled on about life on the road as they went, pleasantly relating

numerous fantastic adventures, most of which she doubted had ever actually

happened and the remainder so exaggerated it was laughable. The man had to

know that his tales were so over embellished they were in no way believable, but he

seemed to take pleasure in exaggerating so she listened patiently, face breaking out

into a smile every few lines.

A figure appeared at her shoulder and she glanced sideways to get a better

look at Seth who had pulled up beside her, dark eyes intense as they came to meet

her own. “There’s someone out there in the trees. Multiple people. I don’t know

whether they followed us or if we just happened to walk into their trap, but they’re

watching.”

She began to look out into the trees, but she could make out nothing between

the endless sea of green that surrounded them. “Should we go back?” she

murmured, but he shook his head.

“Too late now.” Just then, a figure stepped out into the roadway from behind

an ancient cedar, scraggly mud colored hair trimmed neatly into a small beard over

his otherwise bald features. Jack had long since stopped his endless story, hazel

eyes nervously scanning the scene around them.

“What might people such as yourselves be doing out in my woods at this

hour?” the man before them questioned, his dark eyes sliding over each of them in

turn. “It is unfortunate for you that you happened to come this way.”

Seth did not take his eyes off the man, speaking bluntly and without emotion.

“A man can hardly own a forest and we are free to travel where we wish.”

The man grinned, the smile bereft of warmth and looking decidedly

predatory. “Those with power take what they wish and the weak give in because

there is no other option available. Now, make this easier on yourselves and place all

your weapons and valuables down on the ground. You’ll be looking forward to a new

life very soon. Slave market’s very profitable this time of year down in Altair, all

fighting’s gonna do is give you a few bruises and lower the price.”

The Xerkzes stone hummed faintly at her side and Viera shook her head. “We

will not just go freely and there is no bloody way you’re going to make us. Now let

us pass or else we’ll have to make you move!” Seth raised an eyebrow and she

resisted the urge to blush. The comment had been a little over the top perhaps, but

even the thought of slavery churned her stomach. Slavers were a nasty sort, found

usually farther east near the jungles of the Sorchien. These were no different from

the countless other vile marauders who sold people as property, and she would

never comply to their demands.

The man’s grin only broadened as he listened to her reply. “The hard way it is

then. This way’s much more fun anyway.”

Tall figures rose from beneath the concealment of bushes lining the roadway

and detached themselves from branches hanging above them in the branches of

trees. Jack had been slinking farther and farther away from the man as he had

spoken and now he lay almost at the edge of the path, the bandits eyeing him warily

as if suspecting he would attempt to flee.

The man edged forward, a long axe coming loose from the loop in his belt.

“Seize them.” he said calmly. “Alive if possible, and if you have to kill them, be neat

about it.”

As the first of the figures darted forward Seth spurred his mount sideways

and with one swing of his sword sent the man’s head rolling along the ground, the

body crumpling limply to the barren earth below. It all happened so fast that Viera

scarcely had time to register it. She seized the bow from atop her saddle, deftly

stringing the bow with one single fluid movement and sending an arrow lancing

through the heart of one of the archers crouching low atop a branch over her head.

She had another arrow knocked in an instant, scarcely needing to aim as the runes

guided it to its target in the neck of a second bowman.

Jack Fairenwey fought surprisingly well, daggers appearing from pockets

hidden everywhere from the inside of his boots to behind his neck and up his

sleeves. He had surprisingly accurate aim for someone who spent all his time

gambling in taverns and he managed to slay four of the slavers before a solid blow

from a man’s wooden cudgel sent him tumbling to the ground.

Viera’s daggers shone with blinding incandescence as she pulled them from

beneath her cloak. They were not meant to be used against ordinary people, but the

searing heat of the magic would kill these fiends just as surely as one of the

Sur’Aterre for whom they were designed.

A flash of motion behind her head sent her spinning around to intercept the

blow that would have otherwise killed her. The Seraphen dagger cut right through

the metal of the short pike just as easily as it had cut through flesh. The woman

who had been holding it looked up at her in shock over the melted edge of her

weapon just moments before a second swing of Viera’s blade caught her right across

the stomach and erased the expression.

Viera bit back the bile that had begun to rise inside her mouth. The still

living body of the woman writhed in agony, her innards pouring out onto the dirt in

a mix of blood and mangled flesh. The wrongness of the situation weighed over her.

She was only defending herself, and these people were as bad as any of the

Nocturne, but the horror of the scene before her seemed to negate all reasoning.

She summoned her magic in a torrent of wind, deflecting the arrows that had

come so close to hitting their target. She had been too wrapped up in her thoughts

to notice the third archer. For just a moment she had been vulnerable, but the

second had almost cost the Keeper her life. A quick shot from her bow and the man

toppled backward, the shaft piercing straight through his leather armor, the steel

head emerging from the other side of his neck. A jagged tipped spear caught her

horse in the chest and she rolled free of the mount, discarding her bow and turning

to face the remainder of her attackers on foot.

Seth had been knocked from his horse as well and was fighting a ring of

attackers farther up the path. He was too far away for her to give any help and by

the menacing looks on the faces surrounding her, she had enough to worry about all

on her own. The man with the cudgel who had taken out Jack sidestepped the

whirling blade of her dagger, but the man behind him was not so lucky, sinking to

the forest floor with a gaping wound in his shoulder, clawing frantically at the

weapon as it burned through his tissue and into his heart.

Another rose up to take his place, dozens upon dozens of men clogging the

road and blocking off any hope of escape. There are too many! The thought echoed

dimly in the corners of her mind as she dodged the powerful swings of her enemies’

weapons. Only six or so confronted her, the rest had their attentions focused around

Seth, but it was still too many. The chaos around her had reached a new height, the

men converging forward all at once to seize her. She held them off as best she could,

knowing that eventually, she would fall.

* * * * *

The heavy mace whistled hollowly as it tore through the space where Seth’s

head had been but a few moments before, a blow that, if it had been successful,

would have split his skull. It seemed the man was no longer so concerned with

taking him alive, the bloody eye socket where the point of his sword had skimmed

giving an evident reason for the change.

The enemy had outnumbered the company almost a dozen to one, and things

were not looking good, despite how many had fallen. A well placed shot from one of

the bowman had crippled his horse, sending him tumbling to the ground and nearly

getting him trampled. Viera and Jack had killed ten of the slavers, Viera managing

to take out each one of the archers and three others before several of the brutes had

overwhelmed her. Jack had been knocked unconscious early on and would not prove

to be any help now, leaving him alone to face the remaining twenty or so attackers.

He slashed angrily at his opponent’s exposed underbelly, tearing through

coarse leather armor and watching him fall lifeless to the ground. Another two

slavers instantly charged him, serrated edged swords designed clearly to kill and to

maim. Sparks flew off the two blades as they rebounded off the edge of his sword,

two lightning fast strikes disarming both of his attackers and leaving them

clutching fatal wounds along their throat and stomach that would end their lives

quickly.

A two-handed axe swung clumsily toward him, the blow sending vibrations

all along the length of Seth’s arm as he deflected it. Seth parried the blow, and with

a strong thrust through the heart, sent the man sliding forward with blood frothing

from his mouth.

Seth’s arm ached with weariness as he blocked yet another deadly swing.

There were simply too many, but he would not give up and face whatever fate

awaited him. A woman with wild red hair looped a long stretch of rope around his

neck while a man with a trident stabbed at him. He gasped as the coil jerked tight,

but a quick slash of his sword and the rope fell useless to the ground. The woman

darted forward with a dagger at the same time the man lunged to spear him, but he

danced sideways and decapitated the warrior, the trident continuing to move

forward to spear the woman through the side, her attempts at dodging performed

too late to save her.

The anguished scream brought the leader of the group marching to face him,

mouth twisted in an expression of disdain. Seth watched his approach from out of

the corner of his eye, still fending off the onslaught of weapons eagerly seeking to

impale him. The leader’s axe whirled slowly through the air, joining the efforts of

the others around him. Seth raised his sword to repel the blow, and a well-aimed

thrust from a long-knife cut into his exposed side, sending a steady trickle of blood

streaming down his hip.

He faltered for a moment and the men took advantage of the weakness,

weapons abandoned upon order of the head slaver and fists striking down as they

bore him to the ground. A pig faced man twisted painfully at his wrist, forcing him

to release his grip on his sword as he tumbled to the hard packed dirt.

The leader watched in satisfaction a few paces back, leaving the work of

disarming him to his underlings. Seth kicked out angrily at the nearest of the

assailants, the toe of his boot connecting with flesh in a sickening crunch that had

to be the cracking of bone. Bright lights danced before his eyes as a hard knuckled

fist slammed repeatedly into his face, he jerked his hand free of the slaver who had

held it and hit the man an open handed blow to the throat that quickly ended the

onslaught.

The magic that had come so easily in other confrontations had deserted him

now, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not find it. He yelled in frustration

and anger. The cursed energy had deserted him, coming against his will before and

gone when he needed it most. He raised his hand to ward off the blows, shaking off

the clutching hands that encircled his arms and legs and fighting with renewed

fervor. He could not let this happen!

A hefty kick caught him in the side of the head, turning his vision to a haze of

blurred shapes and taking away the last of his resistance. Rough hands pulled him

to his feet, thick ropes encircling his wrists. His last thought was one of anger

before another blow sent him spiralling into darkness.

* * * * *

Disjointed voices drifted through a haze of blurred images, the incessant

pounding that filled Seth’s head a constant reminder of what had happened as he

drifted through the haze of blackness that enclosed him.

Seth stirred slightly and blinked away the fog that had lain over him, the

room around him slowly coming into focus. Clots of dirt and mud lined the worn

wooden floor upon which he lay, the steady rumbling creek of wheels telling him

that he was inside a wagon. His hands were each encircled in thick iron cuffs, the

edges rusted and dull. A long chain ran from the center of the cuffs to a bolt in the

wall of the wagon. The slavers weren’t taking any chances.

He suppressed a groan as he rose unsteadily to his knees, the room around

him seeming to spin. Jack Fairenwey sat slumped in a corner, playing idly with the

links on the chains that held him. A long bruise ran the length of his temple, deep

purple in color with a vivid red streak running through the center from where the

club had pierced skin. Judging by the look of the mark, the man was lucky he did

not have a concussion.

Seth was vaguely aware of what his own face must look like, the dull ache

that seemed to emanate from the base of his skull making it hard to focus. “Where’s

Viera.” he murmured, closing his eyes against the feeling of vertigo that had

overcome him.

Jack glanced up at him, deep hazel eyes looking for once dead serious. “They

have her out front, guarded by a bunch of thugs. They know she’s a Keeper. Damn

daggers were a dead giveaway. They saw the magic too. So they just told her they’ll

kill us if she uses it.”

Seth gritted his teeth. He had no idea how they were going to get out of this.

The motion of the wagon beneath them ground to a halt, men shouting orders

to set up camp for the night. Seth searched his mind for a plan that would take

them out of there, but without weapon or magic he could think of no way to escape

their confinement. He had never learned how to pick locks or escape bonds, and he

had no way of breaking the iron chains and escaping a camp filled with twenty

armed men, as well as manage to free Viera from wherever they held her. “How

many are guarding us?” he asked distractedly, only half listening to the answer.

“Five right now, but they’ll be dropping off to sleep in a few moments and

only two or three will stay.”

Seth glanced up at him, dark eyes searching. “You know a way out of this,

don’t you?”

The man shrugged. “There’s a possibility.”

They waited a half hour without moving, the sounds of muffled chatter and

drinking slowly dying down as the slavers nodded off and succumbed to the lures of

sleep. Jack rose slowly to his feet, peering out through the bars at the top of the

wagon and into the night without. “Two outside, four more guarding the shed where

they took Viera. Hmm... Can you stand?” The last was addressed to Seth, and he

nodded groggily. The man clearly knew of a way out and whether or not it worked,

it was better than sitting by placidly and waiting to be sold as slaves.

A thin length of metal appeared from beneath the sole of Jack’s boot, along

with a thicker iron rod that looked vaguely like a miniature crowbar. He fit the pick

into the keyhole in the center of his cuffs, the bonds coming loose with a small click

and falling open to the floor. Seth winced at the noise, but the thunderous snoring

from just outside their door did a fair job of concealing the sound. Still, he cast a

meaningful glance at Jack and the thief took more care to be quiet. Jack came over

and undid Seth’s bindings before moving to the door and beginning anew, muttering

faintly about rusted parts.

“Interesting that you know how to do that.” Seth remarked quietly.

Jack just shrugged. “Been in jail a few times. It’s nice to know how to get out

of situations like these. Hiding it beneath the sole of my boot works almost every

time. People really are quite sloppy when searching prisoners.” He looked up at

Seth and caught sight of the cynical look on his face. Jack shrugged. “Don’t be too

judgemental. The law is really just a matter of interpretation. You see, when it

comes down to it, life is really just a matter of luck.” He paused. “Ah, there we go.

Lock picking isn’t all that hard really. Just needed to find the catch. Now we just lift

it free and…”

The lock on the door came open with a faint screech, making Jack wince as

the snoring just outside ceased and footsteps came running from without. Seth

motioned for Jack to go against the wall, gathering the coils of chain between his

hands so his bonds still appeared to be intact. Seth slid sideways to the other side of

the door as it swung open to emit two feral looking men, with hands clutched tight

around their cudgels. “Hey you.” one growled at Jack, “Where’s the other one..?”

Seth slammed the door shut before the two could finish entering, crushing

the last man’s skull between the panel and the doorframe. The other turned around,

mouth opening to shout, but before he could act Seth flung forward the length of

chain he had gathered, looping it around the man’s neck and holding it tight until

the man’s struggles subsided and he fell blue-faced to the floor.

Jack dug through one of the man’s pockets until he emerged triumphant with

a long bladed dagger. “Thought I’d lost this.” he murmured, stroking the silver

blade, a small diamond studding the hilt.

They crept forward through the camp, Jack pointing out the squat tent where

they were keeping Viera. Seth frowned; the place was guarded by four people, each

one brandishing a long pike with a firm grip, looking as if they were eager to use it.

“Can I borrow your knife for a moment?” he whispered, though it was more

like a demand than a question.

Jack sighed hesitantly and Seth continued. “I don’t want to waste any time

looking around for wherever they hid our weapons, and I don’t really trust you to

take out four men without being seen.”

The other man frowned, but in the end he complied, handing him the more

ceremonial than practical long knife and watching discontentedly as he disappeared

behind the row of tents. “Kid’s gonna get himself killed.” he muttered when he

thought Seth was out of hearing range. Seth smiled grimly at the comment; that

was yet to be seen.

* * * * *

Viera tugged angrily at the bonds that held her, knowing that it did no good,

but refusing to relent. An iron chain encircled one ankle, clipped neatly to the post

in the center of the tent, her wrists bound tightly behind her with a length of rope.

She sank down wearily against the post; it had been hours since the time

they were captured, the slavers dragging away the limp form of Seth and the just

awakening figure of Jack Fairenwey to a wagon at the edge of the encampment. She

knew the leader would have them killed if she tried to use magic, but she could not

allow herself to be sold as a slave. She grimaced as she remembered the speech the

head slaver had given her; slavery wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to her

at this point. The empire paid highly for captured Keepers and enemy officials so

they could be tortured for information. There was also unpleasantly, a market for

prostitution that she would die before she allowed herself to go to. She seriously

considered attempting to free herself using magic regardless of the risk. Sitting here

docilely and awaiting her fate was gaining her nothing. Perhaps if she was quick

enough she could be past her guards and free Seth and Jack before the others

awakened. She glanced up at one of the brute sitting in a chair across from her.

Such a thing was impossible. Her companions would be dead before she so much as

broke through this chain, but then again, how much better off would they be if she

did nothing and they were all branded as slaves?

She buried her head in her hands, rivulets of blood running down from the

places on her wrist where the coarse rope had ground through skin. What was the

point? She had lost the Xerkzes stone, taken along with the rest of her possessions

to be sold. After everything she had gone through, evading the Nocturne, breaking

into the high security vaults at Cayheir, she had lost it to a couple of brutes who

traded slaves.

She glanced wearily at the vague shadows at the front and sides of the tent.

Two at the entrance and one at either side, the final guard sat inside the tent in a

chair facing her a few inches in front of her face, making any plan of escape futile.

Unlike her two companions, she had not been knocked out during the fight,

only tied down when the six she had been fighting overwhelmed her and bound her

head to foot. Most had then left to deal with Seth, a frightening battle that lasted

quite a long time until they finally managed to overwhelm him.

She sighed. He had been in pretty bad shape when they locked him away.

There was a possible concussion from that last hit with the butt-end of a staff.

Knowing Seth however, he would be on his feet and trying to escape even if he was

bleeding to death, but determination could not break through chains or batter down

doors. He was as doomed as she was.

She blinked uncertainly as she noticed that the left side of the tent was

empty, the shadowy outline of the guard no longer visible as he had been a few

moments before. The man before her sat motionless with his eyes half closed,

oblivious to it all.

The side flap of the tent tore open, a long bladed knife cutting smoothly

through the rough material without a sound. A shadowy figure slid through the

open gap, moving silently behind the guard in one fluid motion and slitting his

throat. The man toppled sideways with an almost inaudible gurgle and the figure

moved over to the place where she sat. She glanced toward the front of the tent, but

none of the others had moved. Her rescuer severed the ropes encircling her wrist

with one smooth cut. “That was surprisingly easy. People really do need to pay

closer attention when guarding a prisoner.”

She smiled with relief and glanced up at the figure hovering over her, dark

eyes meeting her own as he fit a crude key into the lock around her ankle. The lock

came free with a click and Seth helped her to her feet, despite the unsteadiness of

his own. He tried to mask it of course, but she took notice. Apparently he wasn’t as

well as he pretended.

The guard on the right side of the tent was gone as well, though she hadn’t

noticed before, leaving just the two in front. Seth moved forward before she could

follow and slid the knife through the siding and into the first man’s back, doing the

same to the other just as he began to turn and watching them both slide limply to

the ground.

He glanced back at her, motioning her forward and she grabbed his arm

insistently. “They took the Xerkzes stone. I don’t know where, but it’s probably in

the main building where the leader is staying.” There was only one building. Placed

in the center of the encampment, it was the remnant of an old watch post that had

been in the forest for ages. That was where they would have placed the stone if they

had even the slightest suspicion of its value.

He nodded, guiding her through the shadows to behind a smaller line of tents

where Jack Fairenwey stood picking at his nails. Seth handed him back the dagger,

the man rubbing it ruefully on the grass to remove the coating of blood. She told

him quietly where they needed to go to reach their things, leaving out the part

about the Xerkzes stone. What the man didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

They crept toward the center of the encampment, the tower situated on the

edge of the clearing, three stories high with a small window at the top surveying the

surrounding area. Seth moved forward as if to climb it but she grabbed his arm.

“Don’t even think about it. You shouldn’t even be walking with a wound like that.”

she said, gesturing to the gash near the back of his head. “And until I can heal it,

you aren’t doing anything of the sort.”

He sighed in frustration. “Unless Jack can climb it, how else are we going to

get in there?”

“I’ll do it.” she replied curtly. “I was never really injured in the fight, other

than a few bruises and I’ve done it before.” Both men raised their eyebrows in

disbelief and she frowned. “Just wait here.” she commanded, a little more sharply

than she had planned.

She dug the toe of her boot into an outcropping of rock and took finger-holds

in the numerous cracks running the length of the stone. She brushed irritably at the

long skirt that made the process more difficult than it would normally be, wishing

she was back in her old clothes. She moved swiftly up the side of the building,

numerous cracks and abrasions providing all the handholds she needed. It was

quite a bit easier than the vaults at Cayheir, the rough surface of the stone

providing a clear path to the top. It took her a few minutes of careful climbing to

reach the top, at which point she pulled herself up onto a wide balcony situated at

the top of the tower, creeping silently into the room beyond and peering around at

the vague shapes in an attempt to locate where the stone might be hidden.

A single bed lay near the back of the room beside a hatch leading downward

to the forest below. The bald man who led the slavers lay soundly asleep amongst

the dust covered blankets, hand closed tightly around the handle of a knife. Viera

slunk toward a locked chest at the far side of the room, melting the small metal lock

with a little flicker of holy fire, and peering hopefully into the chest beyond. The

Xerkzes stone was nowhere to be found, though Seth’s sword and her emerald

studded necklace were settled atop piles of silk. Clearly the man had only stored

here what he viewed as valuable and was planning to keep; the Xerkzes stone would

have to be elsewhere with their other supplies.

She frowned, searching her mind for where they might have taken the rest of

their possessions and finally deciding on the tent across from the tower that held all

the slaver’s supplies. She climbed back down to the forest below, the descent being

considerably harder than her first trip had been.

She handed Seth the sword she had retrieved, her necklace clasped firmly

around her neck. She spoke softly of her suspicions about where the rest of their

things would be, listening patiently to Jack’s description of where the slavers kept

the horses.

Seth disappeared into the shadows behind them, unnerving her slightly with

the ease with which he melted into the shadows, especially since she knew he was

still right there, waiting for them to depart. It had been decided that she and Jack

would go retrieve their supplies while Seth readied three horses to take them to

Talme.

Viera led the way through the sleeping encampment, Jack trailing with

constant glances over his shoulder every few minutes to make sure no one was

behind them. There was only one guard posted at this tent, looking decidedly bored

as he leaned on the haft of his spear. They entered through the back of the tent,

Jack cutting a narrow slit in the material just big enough for them to step through.

The guide quickly retrieved a large array of uniquely styled blades, varying from

serrated long knives and curved daggers to small throwing knives no longer than

her hand. He hid them in various places beneath his clothing, two at his waist that

you could see if you looked close enough, one in the top of his boot, three up his

sleeves, and one at his back that could be reached over the shoulder. “Why so

many?” she asked quietly.

He smiled. “Just a precaution. I tend to end up in these type of situations

quite frequently and it’s good to be prepared.” She stared at him with pursed lips,

wondering what other things he might be able to do.

She scanned the rows of tables, various swords and knives stretched out

along them with shelves of food and other goods set against the walls. The three

remaining Seraphen daggers stood out among the other weapons, white blades

glowing softly in the darkness around them. The other two had been left along with

the dead somewhere in the forest. It appeared that the slavers had only kept the

ones she had in her possession when they were captured. She belted two around her

waist where they would be hidden by her cloak once she got it back, sliding the

other into the sheath sown inside her wide sleeve; the dress did have some uses she

supposed.

She picked up the fine green wool cloak, recognizing Seth’s black one and

gathering it as well. She still did not see any sign of the Xerkzes stone and she was

beginning to worry. Suddenly Jack called out to her, a harsh whisper that caught

her attention as much as any yell. He was holding up a sealed leather casing, the

rune embroidered on the front marking it as the one she had brought from Venir to

hide the talisman. He tossed it over to her and she murmured a quick thanks,

ignoring his inquiring look and moving back toward the rear of the tent.

A sudden groan off to their left sent her in to a crouch, but it was only

someone changing position in their sleep. She had just let out her pent up breath

when a loud shout from behind them shattered all her hopes of escaping undetected.

Jack flicked his wrist forward with lightning speed and a knife embedded itself in

the man’s throat, cutting off his yell with an ugly gasp, but it was too late. Men and

women rushed out of the tents around them, scrambling out of blankets and taking

hold of their weapons.

Viera and Jack quickly set off at a run, dodging around the numerous tents

and charging toward the forest beyond. In the few seconds it had taken for the two

to leave the area where the shout had come, the entire section had become flooded

with men. If they did not escape the camp here and now, they would be surrounded

by the two dozen or so remaining slavers and they would go back to being prisoners,

their only chance for freedom having vanished.

Viera flew across the matted grass, sprinting toward the edge of camp where

Seth was supposed to meet them with the horses. Jack was hard pressed to keep up,

falling behind quickly and shouting something incomprehensible, though the tone of

warning was apparent. She jumped sideways at his shout, the pointed head of a

spear tearing through the side of her cloak and barely missing skewering her

through the stomach. She kicked her assailant hard in the face while he was still

following through with his strike, not slowing as he stumbled backward with a

bloody gash in his already swelling lip.

A figure appeared before her and she pulled back her arm to strike, Seraphen

dagger appearing in her hand, but the man quickly took hold of her wrist, features

catching the light as he stepped forward from out of the shadows. “Relax Viera.”

Seth snapped, the point of her knife hovering perilously close to his throat.

She quickly dropped her hand and he ushered her forward to where three

horses stood. She put one foot into the stirrup in preparation to mount and just

barely missed being struck by the quivering shaft of an arrow as it shot just over

the top of her head and tore through the thin canvas of the tent across from her.

Seth slid smoothly into his saddle, Jack appearing a few seconds later with

blood running down from an arrow wound in his arm. Pounding footsteps and angry

shouts trailed behind him and she quickly dug her heels in, her mount leaping

forward and weaving through the maze of trees to rejoin the road a few miles ahead,

the yells of the slavers fading off into the distance. They rode all night, only

stopping a few hours before dawn to tend to their wounds.

Viera bent quickly over the broken shaft in their guide’s arm, grimacing at

how deeply it was rooted. “This will hurt for just a moment.” she warned him. “Stay

still and try not to move.” He gritted his teeth as she pulled the barb free, making

no sound but looking as if she had just stabbed him in the stomach with a red-hot

iron. She passed her hand over the gash, envisioning the healing that was about to

take place.

Jack gave a low whistle, looking down in amazement at the smooth stretch of

skin. The bruise on his temple was gone as well and he raised a hand to touch his

head. “Well I’ll be damned.” he sighed. “Doesn’t hurt a bit. Reputation of the

Keepers wasn’t exaggerated after all.”

She turned then to Seth and he shook his head. “One healing is enough. You

need your energy for the journey tomorrow and I’m not that badly injured.”

She frowned at him, green eyes narrowing in frustration and concern. Other

than a slight sleepiness, she had not been affected by the healing. “Minor wounds

don’t take all that much energy. I’m not as fragile as you seem to think. Now stay

still and stop being stubborn.”

She placed her hands on either side of his face, taking the time to heal the

bruises he had suffered during his fight on the ship as well. The wound on his head

had not damaged the bone, but the various marks and abrasions from the long fight

had accumulated to do quite a lot of damage. She closed her eyes in concentration

and felt him stiffen, nodding in satisfaction as she opened her eyes and found each

injury to be completely healed.

She felt her eyelids drooping and suppressed a yawn. Apparently Seth had

been right about one thing. “Let’s stay here for a few hours before leaving. The

slavers can’t track us through the deep woods anyway, especially since they don’t

know which direction we’re going.” The other two nodded and she leaned wearily

against the base of a tree, wrapping her cloak tight about her and settling down to

sleep.

They had left most of their food and other supplies with the slavers, only

gathering what was immediately necessary before setting out. She sighed at the

thought of how much time they had lost today. She did not know how far off course

they had travelled, but by the look on Jack’s face as he glanced over the map, she

had a feeling it had been a fair distance. She allowed her eyelids to droop forward,

aware of the soft trill of music as Jack brought out a small flute he had picked up

from the slavers. The man seemed to have a never-ending array of hidden skills.

The thought drifted away into the back of her mind as exhaustion took hold and she

allowed the comforting emptiness of unconsciousness to carry her away.

* * * * *

Chapter XIII

Foreboding

Viera grimaced in disgust, spitting out the mouthful of greasy fat that she

had taken from the grouse they had caught and prepared for lunch that day. She

moved over instead to a handful of roots and berries gathered from the lush forest

beyond. The fruit seemed flavorless, tasting little better than the meat, but she

knew it was all in her head. She pushed the food aside, discovering she was no

longer hungry.

They had been travelling since before dawn, quickly covering the miles that

lay between them and the nearest city. In a few more hours they would exit the

forest and follow the main road towards town in order to restock on the supplies

they had lost to the slavers.

Seth sank down beside her and she pushed the half-eaten contents of her

lunch to one side. He had seemed oddly grim since earlier that day, constantly

looking over his shoulder as if he expected to see someone following them.

“How long until we reach the city?” He asked calmly. He never bothered to

ask Jack, though he knew a lot more than she did about these things. Despite how

much Jack had done to help in breaking them out of the slaver’s prison, Seth still

disliked the man, and Viera could not help but wonder what the real cause behind

Seth’s animosity was. She reflected upon the conversation she had had with Seth a

few days ago concerning their newly appointed guide, and it seemed to her that

most of his problems with the man had more to do with Jack’s behaviour toward

Viera rather than how well or poorly he did his job. A slight smile broke out over the

corners of her mouth, though she was not sure why the realization pleased her so

much.

She turned her thoughts back to the matter at hand and devoted her

attention to answering Seth’s question. “Jack says we should be there sometime

around late afternoon.” She stated placidly. “We’ll stay the night there before

moving on towards Venir.”

He nodded distractedly. “The sooner the better, though I still don’t think

entering Venir is the wisest thing to do for a descendant of the Nocturne.”

She frowned and he shook his head. “Don’t worry Viera. I’ll stay with you

until the stone is safely away, but you won’t need my help after we reach the city.”

She rose to her feet. “That’s for me to decide Seth. You did as much as me to

get the stone to Venir and you said yourself the night we met, Venir would be the

perfect place to escape your troubles with the law.”

His eyes darkened. “That was before I knew who I was, and I’d be breaking

quite a few Venishian laws if I ever set foot inside your city.”

She looked down at him, her eyes stern, but he stared back unflinching.

“There won’t be any problem getting into the city.” She stated confidently. “My

people aren’t that unreasonable.”

He did not reply to the statement, simply arching an eyebrow and looking

decidedly unconvinced. Viera bit her lip, not wanting to reveal to him that his

scepticism was warranted. Her people were very strict in their policies about the

Nocturne. Still, now was not the time to worry about it. She was confident that she

would find a way to accurately explain the situation to her mother when the time

came so that such foolish prohibitions would no longer apply. “Come on,” she stated,

“we should get going.”

The heat rose as the day lengthened, and they arrived in a large city nestled

at the edge of the woods, the name of which Viera could not quite remember, though

it seemed to be a fairly well established settlement judging by the amount of people.

They made their way through the crude wooden gates and found themselves amidst

a horde of sweaty people packed tightly in the streets as they rushed about the day’s

business. Numerous stalls and shops lined the streets and the group quickly found

ample provisions to replace the items lost. Viera wrinkled her nose at the rank

stench of sweat and grime that lay over the crowd, wishing suddenly for the ordered

calm of the Venishian capital. She sighed; she would be home soon enough and as

crowded as the city was, it was better than the endless mass of wilderness that she

had so often found herself in.

A boy of about six or seven brushed by her in an attempt to escape the fast

moving mob, calling a quick apology in a high voice as he accidentally jostled her

into the surrounding people. Seth grabbed the boy by the shoulder as he turned to

leave, and Viera glanced at him quizzically. It wasn’t until a few seconds later that

she realized what had happened. The boy handed Seth a polished leather pouch

filled with coins and Viera patted at her waist, only just now noticing the absence of

the purse. Seth released the boy and the little scoundrel continued on his way,

vanishing into the mass to seek out his next victim.

“You have to be more careful you know.” Seth remarked ruefully. “You

already lost a few coins to a man back there, though he disappeared too fast for me

to catch him.”

She exhaled in frustration. “So now I’m supposed to suspect every person who

happens to brush by me of picking my pocket?”

“Most of the time, yes. We still have things we need before we can leave here

and we’ll have a hard time getting them without any money.”

They stopped that night in a crowded establishment known as The

Cutthroat’s Purse. Despite the bawdy name, it was much more polished and clean

than some of the other places they had visited, and only about half the residents

had drunken themselves to the point of incoherency. The rest remained fairly level-

headed.

Jack vanished shortly after they entered, and they found him hours later

dicing with a couple of nobles. Seth was surprisingly easy on the man considering it

had not been Jack’s money that he had been gambling with, but that did not spare

him the outraged demands of the men around him. He owed them all a considerable

amount of coin and this time, Seth did not intercede as he had during their first

meeting when the angered players decided to get even.

Viera led Jack upstairs after his negotiations with those he had cheated

reached their inevitable conclusion. She sank down upon the thick woollen sheets

on the bed in the quarters she had been assigned; the coverings were far too warm

for this heat and most of them already lay stacked upon the floor. She bent forward

over the swollen black bruise surrounding Jack’s eye, prodding it lightly to examine

the severity of the mark. He winced, and Seth shook his head from where he

watched lounging calmly in a wicker back chair. “It can’t hurt that much

Fairenwey. I don’t see why you feel the need to make such a big deal of it.”

Jack glared at him, his voice sullen. “You’re a cold-hearted felon do you know

that? You could have at least tried to help, or at a bare minimum you could have

stayed quiet and not encouraged them for god’s sake!”

“All I did was state the truth by saying that you would not actually be paying

them back since we would be gone in the morning. They wouldn’t have believed that

you would pay them later anyways.” He stated coolly. “They weren’t that drunk.

Besides, the guy only punched you once. The innkeeper kicked him out after that so

he didn’t get a chance to do any real damage, and considering that you gambled

away something near twenty silver pieces of my money, I wasn’t particularly

inclined to prevent you from getting what you deserved.”

Viera shook her head, ignoring both men and proceeding with the work at

hand. She called upon her magic, her hand surrounded by a faint aura of white as

she quickly mended the bruise.

“You know, you probably shouldn’t heal him at all.” Seth remarked.

She shot him a pointed look, the bruise vanishing with a touch of her hand.

“Just because you don’t like him doesn't mean he needs to stay injured. I think not

stopping the man who punched him was enough, don’t you?”

He shook his head. “People will notice that it’s missing. There aren’t many

magicians in town, and you look too much like a typical Venishian for them not to

figure out you’re a Keeper.” She bit her lip. True enough, but it was done now

anyway. “He can just wear a hat to shadow his face. No one will think it strange;

he’ll just be trying to hide his black eye.”

Jack glanced with satisfaction at the mirror hanging on the wall across from

him, his demeanor instantly lightening. “A fantastic idea my lady!” He had taken to

calling her that shortly after discovering she was a Keeper, though Seth’s eyes

rolled slightly each time he said it. “I see you are brilliant as well as beautiful. Now,

we should all get some rest. A few hours and we’ll be back on the road.”

Viera watched the two figures as they departed to their rooms. Seth was the

last to leave, his face wearing a faint expression of regret that would have escaped

her notice had she not been paying so much attention. She frowned slightly at the

thought. She suspected something was wrong, and more than just his usual worries,

but she could not figure out what and asking would get her nowhere. She just had

to wait and hope that something gave itself away. Maybe by morning this would all

blow over and she would find out she was worrying about nothing, though she

doubted it.

She settled down against the soft down pillows stacked neatly against the

plain wooden headboard of her bed. Things were progressing well and soon the

Xerkzes stone would be safe in a vault in Venir and she would not have to worry

any longer. She stared distantly out the glass paned window at the streets below.

There was still the problem of what her mother’s reaction would be to having one of

the Nocturne inside the city. Even if he hadn’t been raised in the Lands of Night, a

Nocturne was still a Nocturne. Some of the Keepers could sense dark magic even if

it wasn’t in use, so they would recognize Seth for what he was.

She sighed; all Venishians hated the empire for the pain they had caused and

the evils they had committed, and some would certainly despise Seth no matter

what he had or had not done. Seth’s expectation of what would happen should he

enter the city had not been far off in that aspect, but she knew they would not

imprison or execute him as one of the Sur’Aterre when he had done so much to help.

Angry with the empire or not, they were not so blinded that they would hold Seth

personally accountable for such acts, but some of her people who had personal

vendettas against the Nocturne might even refuse to allow him into the city. Still,

she was firm in her resolve and she was not about to let Seth run off just because of

what some people may or may not do.

She fingered the spreading branches of the golden tree resting against her

chest, the symbol of the royal house of Venir and emblem of the Keepers of the

Light. Her father had given it to her when she was still a child, only a few weeks

before he died. She sighed, letting her hand drop. Now it was just her and her

mother. How she hated the woman, so cold and removed, saying everything as if

from a thousand miles away and never showing even the slightest inclination

towards pride in her daughter. Things had been different of course when her father

was still alive, but now there was such a big chasm between the two of them that

they barely even spoke.

She stared down at the Xerkzes stone cradled in the palm of her hand; she

had not realized she had taken it out. This entire quest had been to prove herself, to

show her teachers that no matter what they said, she was just as capable as any of

them and no more fragile for being daughter of the queen. It was not a noble reason.

This quest had not been for the salvation of her city. Her purpose had not been to

defeat the Nocturne. It had all been for the sake of pride.

She set the stone atop the square oak table placed beside her bed. She had

tried to use it the night she had first recovered it from the vaults of Cayheir, but it

had not caused so much as a spark. Come to think of it, it had not even begun to

vibrate and glow as it did until that night in Kaleth when she had found Seth. She

sighed; she knew now of course the reason for the reaction. Seth was a wielder of

dark magic and it was obvious why the stone would respond to him. However, that

did not mean that he could use the talisman any more than she could. He knew very

little of the magic that was so integral a part of him, and when he did use it, it was

more of an unconscious reaction than anything else. Besides, as far as she knew, no

one but the emperor himself and perhaps a few of his most trusted servants could

harness the stone’s power. It was surrounded by wards of dark magic that

prevented anyone from using it unless they were one of the Nocturne who knew the

proper procedure to access it. A group of Keepers, given time, could overcome the

barrier, but such a thing would take considerable time and effort. Still, it was worth

it, for once they unlocked the powers of the stone, they could destroy the empire and

finally put an end to the brutal tyranny of the Nocturne. The stone was an

enhancer; anyone wielding it would find themselves in possession of magic

increased a hundred fold from what it had originally been. It was one of a kind, an

ancient artifact whose method of creation had long since been lost and the one in

possession of it would have a decided edge over any who challenged them. If she

could just keep it away from the empire for a little while longer, they would lose

their biggest advantage. Maybe pride was what had sent her on this quest, but now

it was something more. The empire would be defeated. This was only the first step

in a long series of strikes that would lead to their downfall.

Viera stared at the flawless white surface of the talisman sitting balanced on

the mahogany beside her, the soft glow of the object casting a myriad of colors

across the floor. She had learned a lot since leaving Venir and she did not intend to

let that knowledge go to waste.

“One of the Nocturnes’ greatest weapons lying on a table in a second-rate inn

and looking not much different than any other common stone.”

Viera glanced up in surprise. She had not seen Seth come in, yet if he had not

spoken she doubted she would have noticed him at all. “I thought you had gone to

sleep.”

He shook his head. “I’m not in the mood for more dreams.” He paused for a

moment, staring out the window to the street below. “Will the stone really be safe in

Venir, Viera? If the city should fall, the Nocturne will simply regain it and

everything will be back to the way it was.”

“If the city falls, things will have gone so far already that I doubt there would

be much hope with or without the stone.”

He nodded. “True enough.” He stared out the worn pane of glass seated in the

aged wooden window frame and surveyed the night without. “I get the feeling

something’s about to happen, but I can’t tell when or what.” he sighed. “Not a very

useful notion really. Just, be careful tomorrow.”

She nodded, knowing by now not to take such feelings lightly. “I will be; you

don’t need to worry.”

He laughed softly. “I worry a lot more than is practical. This just gives me all

the more reason to be concerned.”

She did not reply, slipping out from under the thick wool covering and

crossing over to where he stood. “Worry does nothing but further your fear. Besides,

soon we’ll be in Venir and there will be no more need for it.”

His expression grew stormy. “Reaching Venir is not exactly a comforting

prospect.”

He strode away without another word, disappearing down the corridor. She

stared after him, contemplating all that he had told her. She remained where she

was for a moment longer before returning the stone to the pouch at her waist and

resettling down against the pillows. She pulled the blankets tightly about her,

waving her hand in a simple gesture and watching the door swing shut, the lock

clicking into place. She willed herself to sleep, dismissing thoughts of whatever lay

ahead and surrendering to the exhaustion that beset her.

* * * * *

Chapter XIV

Quarry

Pale streamers of light filtered through the thick covering of clouds to

illuminate the gloomy landscape of the forest outside Talme. Seth rode at the rear of

the column, the three of them closing steadily on their eventual destination of

Venir. The sky above them was a roiling mass of blackened clouds, peals of thunder

echoing somewhere in the distance. The rain had not yet started, but it would not be

long.

He glanced over at Viera, seated regally atop her horse. She seemed to make

a point of walking with her nose in the air ever since being held captive by the

slavers. He suspected it had something to do with damaged pride, but he made no

mention of it.

Jack Fairenwey led them on through the tangle of paths, his incessant

rambling annoying Seth to no end. Though he disliked him a lot less since he had

sprung them from the slaver’s prison, he certainly had no love for the man. He

sighed as he thought of how close they had come to failing in their mission. Their

mission. He frowned at the thought. It was Viera’s duty not his, and yet he felt a

strange commitment to this girl, a foolish and completely irrational devotion to this

quest of hers to deliver the talisman to her people. He would be lying if he said that

the reason he was on this journey was because he sought to aid in the fight against

the empire. Up until a few weeks ago, he hadn’t much cared about what went on in

the Lands of Night miles away from his homeland. The empire was nothing more

than a distant enemy that was to be left to other men to deal with. It was more

Viera herself that kept him here, that and also a strange feeling he had that he was

meant to be here and that if he left now he would be making a serious mistake that

could never be mended. He shook his head. It was a foolish notion really, especially

since lately he had not done very much to help.

They had set out early that morning, the sky already beginning to darken.

According to Jack, Talme lay only a few days ride northwest of the place they had

camped, but so far he had seen no evidence to suggest they were drawing any

nearer. He shivered slightly as a light rain began to fall, quickly soaking through

his light cloak and turning the dirt beneath them to a thick sludge. A worn wooden

sign indicated that Talme lay to the left, somewhere down the road, but it gave no

indication of how far that might be.

He shivered again, this time from more than just the cold. He had been

feeling as if something was about to happen for a few days now, ever since escaping

the slavers. Though some might call it paranoia, he knew it was something else.

The atmosphere around them had grown suddenly... heavy. The very air carried a

sense of foreboding, and he did not like the bleak implications it gave him.

Viera dropped back beside him, green hood pulled up over her head to shield

her from the rain. She gave him a perfunctory glance before speaking, her green

eyes piercing and discerning. She had been looking at him like that with increasing

consistency, as if always suspecting there was something he was hiding. Whether it

was out of concern or frustration at not knowing, he did not know, but her lips

pulled down into a frown each time she sensed the dourness of his mood. “The rain

should be over by morning. I think we should stop now. We aren’t going to reach

Talme today anyway, so we might as well get one good night’s rest. At least... as

much as can be had in weather like this.”

He nodded, steering away from the road and back into the trees. They always

camped a few miles into the forest, just to be safe. It was less likely that they would

be attacked in their sleep if they were away from the main road and after the

encounter with the slavers, none of them were willing to risk a run-in with bandits.

Jack frowned in disgruntlement as they tromped through the weave of wet foliage

to a small sheltering of trees where they could make camp. They prepared to

dismount, what little light there was already beginning to fade, when Seth stiffened

in surprise, an unpleasantly familiar feeling overcoming him as a dark cloaked

figure entered the clearing behind them.

He jerked his sword from its sheath and charged to confront her, but a

negligent flick of her wrist sent him flying backward before he could think to defend

himself. His back thudded against the base of a tree, the impact leaving black spots

dancing in front of his eyes. Jack gave a start and pulled out on of his various

knives, but the blade bounced off a wall of light that had encircled the women and

she continued unhindered. She did not even bother to look at him as she knocked

Jack’s feet out from under him and left him gasping on the ground as if he had been

struck in the chest with a hammer. Viera’s reaction was more measured, a faint

glow surrounding her as she constructed a shield of her own and wheeled to face her

enemy.

The Nocturne sorceress frowned at her, her eyebrows raising in displeasure.

“Really girl, I’ve come quite a long way to get back what you’ve stolen and I grow

tired of having to waste my efforts on thwarting your pathetic attempts at

resistance.”

Viera raised her head defiantly, her voice firm and unwavering despite the

spark of fear Seth saw in her eyes. “As I recall, the last time you ‘thwarted my

efforts’ as you call it, you were lying flat on your back behind my shield, then

screeching as we sailed away completely unscathed.”

The women smiled, her teeth grinding together as she clenched her hand.

“We shall see who is lying on the ground this time wench.” The dark energy lashed

out in an earth-shattering wave, tearing apart Viera’s shield in one blow. The

sorceress smiled as Viera’s mouth dropped open in shock, motioning negligently and

flinging the girl from her saddle, the Xerkzes stone falling to the ground beside her

mount.

Seth blinked away his disorientation and leapt to his feet, sword whirling

toward the woman’s exposed back. She turned to face him an instant before the

blow landed, black bladed dagger deflecting the blow and swerving to strike at his

side. He parried the thrust and she snarled. “Didn’t I teach you a lesson already,

child? It seems you may need a reminder.”

Streaks of fire seared his skin and he cried out as the magic struck. He

reached for his own gift through a haze of pain and diverted the attack. He flung

out a strike of his own and a lance of dark energy shot forward to impact the

woman’s shield. She stiffened in surprise, her face knotted with the strain of

holding the buffer.

Seth knew little of defence, but attack came instinctively and he battered

mercilessly against the barrier until the shield gave way and the women tumbled

backwards to the ground. The next strike came unexpectedly, not another blow

dealt with magic but a lance of fire that shot inside his head, sending a ringing pain

throughout his skull.

His concentration shattered and the sorceress rose to her feet, her expression

filled with indignation. She raised her hand and a wave of pain rippled through his

body, the dark magic holding him suspended about a foot or so above the ground as

it tore through him. “You know not what you trifle with child. A nice effort, but you

cannot defeat me with nothing more than raw power and uncoordinated strikes.”

She bent down to retrieve the fallen Xerkzes stone, the rune inscribed casing

glowing faintly at her touch.

She pursed her lips, studying him with an inquisitive expression. “You look

like her you know, your mother. I hear she screamed as she died. Burned herself to

death she did, suicidal as well as treacherous Silena. You’re more like your father

though, in more ways than one.” She tucked the Xerkzes stone into the front of her

robe, an undeniable look of amusement coming over her face. Her smile was cold,

her eyes filled with a mix of pleasure and fury. “Voren would want to keep you alive,

the prophecy and all.”

He shook with the effort of maintaining his silence as the magic burned

through him, the pain only bearable because she wanted him alive long enough for

her to speak. He could not help the look of confusion that entered his eyes as she

spoke of the prophecy, the mention of his parents sending a mix of emotions

bubbling through him.

She saw the look that passed over his face and she smiled in amusement, her

eyes still filled with anger. “Do you even know about your prophecy, child? Many

seers have seen it. It is one of the more ancient writings that the emperor has been

obsessing over, yet here you are with a Keeper… No matter, my visions are never

wrong. The emperor knows as much. Unfortunately for you, I have no inclination of

letting you live. Silena was a fool in life and with your death the last of her will die

as well. It was foolish of you to challenge me, child. I shall greatly enjoy watching

you die.”

A thousand daggers seemed to pierce his skull and a black mist crept over his

vision. He gritted his teeth to keep from screaming and the sorceress smiled coldly.

A shaft of silver lanced through the night and struck the woman full in the side as

she turned, reacting too late to stop the arrow from piercing her flesh. She gasped in

shock, her lip curling in anger. She closed her hand around the hilt of a dagger

concealed beneath the folds of her robe, the black edges gleaming with a sickly

green liquid he suspected was poison. The bonds that had held Seth fell away and

he slid to his knees, looking up to see Viera, pulling back her bowstring to release

another shaft that struck the women in the left wrist.

The weapon tumbled from the sorceress’s hand, her fingers curling into claws

as she summoned forth her magic. All Seth’s pent up rage and frustration came out

in one wave, an invisible ripple of energy that shattered the woman’s mounting

magic and toppled trees as it reached out to kill her. A quickly constructed shield

was all that kept her from being torn apart and even so, the dark energy tossed her

like a rag doll into the trees ringing the campsite. Seth watched without expression

as she crumpled to the ground at the base of the oak where she had fallen, blood

pooling beneath her body on the forest floor.

He shoved down the torrent of energy that consumed him, feeling sickened by

the feeling of pure joy it had given him to watch the woman fall. She might be dead,

or she might not. They would have to deal with it now before she escaped and came

after them again. He started to go to her, only to find that his legs were jelly. He

could not rise, a faint mist still lying over his vision and making every breath an

effort.

Jack stood stock-still, his eyes wide in terror. He must have watched the

entire battle and if the magic wasn’t frightening enough on its own, the shattered

trunks of trees and scorch marks lining the ground certainly did the job. Viera

darted toward him, the rune-inscribed length of her bow still gripped tightly in one

hand.

Jack followed her as well and Seth regarded him with an iron gaze. He

managed to push himself to his feet. The worst of the sorceress’s magic had already

passed, making the pain bearable, if not completely dissipated. Unlike last time, it

had done no physical damage, in all likelihood because death was slower that way,

though the pain was just as bad if not worse. Viera huddled over him, but he turned

his attention to Jack. “Go find out if she’s dead. If she isn’t, kill her. There’s a stone

somewhere in the front of her robe, be sure to get it.”

The man clenched his jaw, then simply shook his head. “If you’re talking

about the witch, I wouldn’t go within two miles of her, even if she was dead.

Besides, whatever she took, you’re not getting it back now. She’s gone.”

Seth gave a start, peering over the man’s shoulder to the spot at the base of

the tree only to find he had been telling the truth. His expression became bleak and

he sank back against the trunk of a tree. “We should get as far away from here as

possible. It isn’t a good idea to stay here for the night.”

Viera wore a look of utter horror, her eyes never leaving the spot at the base

of the trunk where the woman had fallen. “Gone? It can’t...” she began, but trailed

of uncertainly. No tracks led from the spot where the sorceress had fallen to

indicate the direction she had gone, and Seth fought down a wave of fury. They had

failed. He took Viera by the arm, both of them exchanging hopeless looks before

climbing into their saddles. Jack stood white faced before them both, but he seemed

too shocked to speak. He knew nothing of the significance of what had just

happened, but no doubt the sorceress had given him enough of a scare. None gave

any objection to not staying here for the night and judging by the wary look that

had settled over Jack’s face, he would have a lot of questions for them both come

morning.

They rode at a gallop for three hours before stopping, and even then it was

more because the horses were exhausted than out of any real desire to sleep. Seth

sank wearily down to the ground with the magic an incessant buzz inside of him. It

had been sitting there, just below the surface ever since the fight and the very

thought of using it again made him grit his teeth.

He sank down to sleep, the touch of death seeming to linger from the magic

cast by the empire’s hunter. He shuddered unconsciously against the bite of the

wind, wrapping his cloak tight about him and losing himself to the haze of visions

that disturbed his rest.

* * * * *

Nyea Aterre stumbled onward through the maze of dark trunks that

surrounded the clearing. Blood ran down the front of her cloak from the arrow

wound in her side, every bone in her body aching from the force of her impact with

the tree. Jagged streaks of lightning streaked across the sky above, the mist of rain

soaking through her cloak and washing away the rivulets of blood in washed out

streams of red. She jerked free the steel arrow heads that lay imbedded in her skin,

discarding the broken shafts onto the ground beside her. She shivered with the

impending feel of death, but it would not come yet, not until both the child and the

Keeper lay dead at her feet.

She travelled surprisingly fast, covering a vast distance in only a few short

hours. It had been easy enough to slip away after her enemies’ attention had been

diverted, fading back into the shadows and running back toward the main road.

She grit her teeth, the pain of her injuries a distant thing that only fed her

fury. She had gained possession of the Xerkzes stone; she had succeed in her charge,

but winning did not seem to be enough. She keeled over at the side of the road,

coughing up blood. She wiped angrily at her mouth. Dark magic was potent and

even with her shield, that last blow had been more than she could handle. Curse

Silena for her interfering stupidity!

A horse pulled up beside her, the rider a young man, a guard by the looks of

him. Such soldiers were often sent to patrol the roads outside the major cities like

Talme with the purpose of driving off groups of bandits and outlaws that preyed on

the unlucky and the foolish who travelled in this region. The man had probably

spotted her as she had emerged out onto the road, just a dutiful young soldier acting

to aid a person in obvious distress. Nyea straightened; it was a very fortunate

happenstance, for her at least.

The guard bent down from atop his saddle, brown eyes narrowed in concern.

“You alright, miss?”

She smiled, looking up from beneath the covering of her hood with dark eyes

burning. The man began to back away, sensing too late that something was not

right. She raised her hand and both horse and rider froze in mid-step. She moved

forward and placed her hands on either side of the man’s head. The rider jerked

upright, mouth hanging open in a silent scream, and her smile widened. A flood of

warm energy flowed through her, the wounds in her side and wrist closing over and

the internal damage she had suffered mending almost instantly. The man slid

limply from his saddle, eyes open and staring. His mount had fallen as well, the big

animal squirming frantically on its side as the magic consumed the last of its life.

The sorceress swayed unsteadily, leaning back against the trunk of a tree to

support herself. She would be exhausted for days because of this. She scoffed at the

animal and its master lying lifeless in front of her. They had served their purpose in

lending her the energy she needed to recover from her injuries. Their life-forces had

been drained away and used to restore her own. The most powerful among the

Nocturne such as herself were the only ones who could work such magic. Keepers

could not heal themselves, just as the Nocturne could not heal others. The fragile

spark they called magic would not work to heal their own injuries. She examined

the back of her wrist and her side where the arrows had been, finding only smooth

skin. The pain inside was gone as well, replaced by a bone-weary exhaustion.

She stumbled a few miles back into the trees and lay down to rest, her vision

was going hazy and she needed sleep. She slumped against the trunk of a tree, the

dark foliage providing at least a little shelter from the rain. She let her eyes fall

shut. She would have to return the Xerkzes stone to Voren; let the fool have his

prize. And after she did, she would not be content with just killing the two who had

kept it from her. She would ensure that they died slowly, and she would enjoy every

minute of it. She slid slowly towards unconsciousness, her soft laughter fading down

into silence.

* * * * *

Chapter XV

Decisions

“I cannot condone it.” The voice drifted through the mix of memories that

haunted Seth’s dreams, seeming to come from far away as if spoken from behind a

barrier of wool that distorted all sound. A faded picture appeared before him, two

figures standing alone in a secluded chamber filled with rich furnishings and

tapestries all colored in velvety blues and rich reds, and highlighted with streamers

of gold.

The foremost of the figures was a man, his face hidden in shadow with his

back turned to Seth, but the second was immediately recognizable as the person he

had seen only in visions before. She turned to face the man across from her, dark

blue eyes reflecting worry and frustration. “I do not trust the woman and it is bad

enough that she has to be here in the first place.” his mother’s voice was firm and

insistent, her black hair pulled back with silver combs and falling softly down her

back in dark waves.

“You do not need to trust her, Silena. She is here because she has never been

wrong and her visions are valuable to all the Nocturne.” the man replied calmly.

The woman sighed and continued her pacing. She stopped over a small

bundle lying motionless inside a cradle. Seth had not noticed the child before, but

there was something oddly familiar about it. She reached down to stroke the sleeping

infant’s head and it gave a small sigh as it shifted in its sleep. “I take it you’ll be

leaving again soon.” she sighed, the question addressed to the tall figure behind her.

“I fight for the future of the Nocturne, Silena. The Venishians and their ilk

cannot be allowed to continue their slow hunting of our people. I will be back in a few

weeks.”

“I know,” she sighed, looking up at him suddenly with a searching expression.

“You believe Nyea’s vision then?”

“You too must sense the truth in her words. You yourself have always believed

in the prophecy.” He stated, his tone earnest “Our child is the one, to save the empire

and destroy those that threaten.”

She did not change expression. “There are two sides to every prophecy. The

words hold truth, but the meaning is unclear. ‘To save or destroy, either path is his

to take. The ending decided by the hands of fate. The path is forged, the way is set.

For dark or light to final breath.’ That is what it says, and you cannot deny that

there is no certainty to such words.”

The man stiffened, and though his expression remained hidden, Seth did not

miss seeing his reaction. “It will not be that way. We will succeed in the end. The

words of a prophecy can be bent and misinterpreted Silena, but the true meaning is

that we shall be the victors of this war, and fate has dictated that the child shall be

the key to our success.”

She gazed at him sadly. “Can I go with you when you leave? I do not like these

battles and I am tired of waiting them through, never knowing when you will be

back or what the casualties will be.”

“I will return soon, my love.” he said softly, leaning over to kiss her. “But the

enemy cannot be allowed to threaten us any longer. Stay here and wait for my

return.” He turned away from her, sword in hand as he drifted out the door.

“The enemy...” Silena said sadly, moving over to stare out the window at the

landscape beyond. The room and the woman faded away as the scene around Seth

slowly changed. He stood in a large hall, tall carved pillars bracing a high arched

ceiling. He was not alone in the room. A group of men and women stood in an orderly

line listening to an older woman as she spoke. He glanced curiously at their

expressionless faces, one face in particular standing out among the crowd.

Even at only about fourteen years of age, the sorceress did not look much

different than she had that night on the docks. Her face looked younger and less

mature, but with the same coldness that she had held while hunting for the Xerkzes

stone. She had about her the same air of prideful confidence, though it was less

obvious then.

“...it is a very difficult balance when searching the mind, and it is essential

that you do not push too hard. If it is done incorrectly, the mind will break, leaving

the vessel useless.” The woman in front spoke in clear crisp tones, clearly a teacher

instructing her pupils. “A demonstration perhaps is in order.”

The doors at the end of the hall, swung slowly open and two guards appeared

dragging a limp, bloody form slowly between them. A third figure trailed along

behind them, cloaked all in black and moving with slow, measured steps across the

polished flooring. Seth was surprised when she peeled back her cowl and he

recognized her as the exiled telepath he had encountered in Faelyon. “He is being

quite stubborn.” she said coldly, her blue-black hair glistening in the pale light. She

was only three or four years older than the students, but she was clearly far more

experienced. “I could get the information of course, but I understand you wanted

someone for your students to try.” she grinned, her pale eyes grim. “I doubt they’ll get

far, but I wouldn’t want to make it too easy for them. This one at least will prove to

be quite a challenge.”

The woman nodded. “Thank you Rena. You may stay and watch if you wish”

She turned back to the students and Seth watched grimly from the sidelines,

experiencing a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he glanced down at the

figure on the floor. Olive toned skin, pale brown hair and hazel colored eyes marked

him clearly, and despite the blood and grime encrusting his coat, the emblem of the

spreading tree was still clearly seen. He was a Venishian, a Keeper perhaps, or a

captured official. There was no way of telling.

“Nyea Aterre.” the teacher snapped. “Perhaps you would like to go first?”

He watched silently as the younger version of the woman who was now

hunting them stepped forward to volunteer. “Of course mistress.” came her reply, a

slow smile spreading over her lips. She stared down at the man and he glared up at

her defiantly. She smiled and his eyes suddenly widened, mouth opening in a silent

scream. “There were six hundred of them, not a large army.” she intoned softly.

“There are still fifty or so who escaped. This one is a general. He knows quite a lot...”

she frowned, her eyes narrowing and the man gave a sudden cry, jerking back

against the grip of the guards that held him.

“That’s enough, Nyea.” the teacher said calmly. The youth glanced defiantly at

her then gave a sudden start, her eyes widening in pain and surprise.

“You want to be a seer in the palace, really?” Rena laughed softly, blue-gray

eyes dancing with amusement. “And no Nyea, you couldn’t have gotten the

information from this man. You would have driven him completely mad if you had

continued any longer.” Nyea glared at the woman, but the telepath simply ignored

her, shifting her gaze to the man on the floor. “In two months an attack is planned to

strike at the recently conquered city of Sol’aira. Inform the emperor.”

The woman running the class nodded. “That I will Rena.” she turned to the

guard. “Bring in another; there are still many more students in need of a practice

subject...”

The scene shifted once more and Seth found himself in a narrow corridor. Two

women stood deep in conversation at the far end of the hall, their voices barely more

than whispers. “An entire city slaughtered, Rena! This is not defence! I have killed

before yes, but this is not the same. The things I have seen...” His mother’s face was

lined with indecision, her features pale. A bundle was clutched tightly to her chest;

the small form of a child wrapped tightly in blankets.

“What you speak of is treason!” the woman across from her snapped. Rena’s

face was more mature than it had been in the last vision, much like when he had last

seen her on the docks in Faelyon, but her hair was clear of gray. “Nyea is already

suspicious of you. She is the emperor’s seer and she holds his ear. Voren will not...”

“It does not matter.” His mother retorted sharply. “Too long have I been

blinded.”

Rena shook her head. “What hope have you, Silena? If you wish to defy the

emperor then why do you save the child? You know the prophecy. He will strengthen

the empire beyond all belief.”

Silena shook her head, her eyes sparkling with resolve. “Hear my prophecy,

Rena. This child will atone for all the wrong we have done. He will strike at the

heart of the empire and return things to the way they were meant to be. If I can save

him, I can save us all.” She backed away down the hall, pulling her black cloak tight

about her against the sudden cold.

“This is foolishness!” The telepath snapped. “What of your family? Your son...”

Silena smiled sadly, her eyes downcast. “I cannot save everyone Rena.” she

replied softly “Watch over my son. Keep him safe.” She turned and set off down the

hall with the baby clasped tightly to her chest, looking back over her shoulder with

iron resolve marking her face. “Goodbye my friend. I only hope that one day you will

see.”

The hallway faded, replaced by a tower, a single broad window looking out

onto the water below. Nyea Aterre stood menacingly before him, her face twisted in a

semblance of a smile. He glanced suddenly downward to where the Xerkzes stone sat

cradled in her hand. “Now you die, child.” she hissed, and then everything else

vanished with the pain that followed.

* * * * *

Seth awoke with a cry, the magic coming out in a burst that incinerated

everything within five feet in an unholy wave of black fire. Viera leapt backwards in

shock and Jack threw himself to the ground with a muffled curse. Seth stared in

shock at the blackened circle of ash that surrounded him, the burnt husks of plants

and the charred remains of one of their packs lying ruined on the ground.

His head ached as if it had been struck with an anvil, and not from either

injury or magic. The dark energy still roiled inside of him, feeling like a living thing

as it pulsed slowly through him. He pushed it angrily away, his head still filled with

a jumble of images from his half-remembered dream.

Viera stared at him with wide eyes, her manner more surprised than

frightened. It was not yet dawn, the sky still colored an inky black though streaks of

gray were beginning to lighten the horizon. Jack was swearing loudly now, pushing

himself angrily to his feet and looking down at the wide swath of destruction. “What

the hell was that! Run away from a dark sorceress who tries to murder us all only to

be almost burned to death in my sleep...” He ran a hand through his hair, seeming

to regain at least some semblance of calm. “What exactly just happened?”

Seth ignored the question, rising unsteadily to his feet. Absent when he

needed it and now emerging in the middle of the night; the magic was becoming

unpredictable, and dangerously so.

Viera held up her hand to silence Jack as he began another tirade, moving

over to Seth. “What happened?”

He shook his head, his eyes darkening. “Nothing really, just... dreams, but

that isn’t the problem.” He sighed, shaking his head, noticing faintly that the burnt

debris at his feet still gave off tendrils of smoke.

Jack stepped forward to join them, veering away from Seth’s angry glance

but continuing forward nonetheless. “I’ve seen that sort of reaction to nightmares in

the past,” Jack began. “though minus the, ah.... fire.” he swallowed. “Men who

fought in wars and the type. Though I must say, I haven’t been around a lot of

magic wielders so I wouldn’t really know.”

Seth purposely ignored the man, thinking carefully on what had just

happened. Viera gazed at him with obvious concern, though there was wariness in

her eyes as well. “It wasn’t like a dream at all, more like reality. Things from the

past... I don’t really remember.” Seth spoke slowly, his dark eyes scanning the

horizon.

Jack cleared his throat, flinching almost imperceptibly as Seth’s gaze shifted

to find him. “You still haven’t answered my question and come to think of it,” he

said, his eyes becoming shrewd. “I don’t even know why you’re going to Venir in the

first place. Or why we almost got killed by a Nocturne witch. Now I get another life-

threatening encounter with magic a few hours later and...”

Seth lost all patience with the man, the pounding in his head only furthering

his temper. “Dark magic, Fairenwey! That’s what just happened. Quite likely it

could have burned you to death in your sleep! We’re going to Venir to protect a

Nocturne talisman which Viera stole, but now no longer has, so we are all likely to

be murdered or subjugated by the empire! The empire being the same people who I

inherited the dark magic from by the way, and the same people who sent that witch

after us to kill us and take back the stone. All of this was done on the command of

the heartless tyrant who has been the scourge of the land for the past thirty years

and is likely to kill us all before the end. Does that answer your question?”

Jack had gone pale, staring at both of them with sudden wariness. Viera

frowned at Seth, her green eyes uncertain. “I thought you didn’t want to tell him.”

She said quietly.

“There are too many secrets.” He sighed. “He might as well know what he's

gotten himself into.” Before I kill us all with this evil. The thought was a bitter one,

yet it had a ring of truth to it that sent a chill through his bones.

He moved over to the brown bay that he had stolen from the slavers,

strapping on the animal’s harness and climbing wearily into the saddle. Viera was

only a step behind him, staring at him in that irritating way of hers that hinted at

her ability to see what he was thinking no matter how well he concealed it. “We can

catch up to the sorceress if we move fast.” Seth stated. “If she’s heading back to

Nocturne, she will have to pass through Talme and Cazour, then across the Endless

Plains, right?” They both nodded silently and he looked over at Jack. “In that case,

we’d best get going. You coming, Fairenwey?” he said flatly.

The man trudged forward, muttering under his breath. “Dark magic,

Venishian Keepers, Nocturne witches... What on earth have I gotten myself into?

All because some girl asks prettily.... Dang gold ain’t worth this. Accursed greed.

Nothing wrong with wanting a little extra money...” They set out, even though the

sun had not yet topped the horizon. Seth stared grimly ahead, already knowing

what had to be done. The city of Talme lay only five leagues north. They would be

there by late afternoon tomorrow. He shook his head. They had lost the stone, lost

everything. He thought again of the words of the sorceress as she confronted them,

her dark eyes burning with fury. Do you even know about your prophecy, child?

Many seers have seen it… yet here you are with a Keeper… No matter, my visions are

never wrong. He kept his expression blank, knowing Viera would attribute his

silence to tonight’s events. He would be gone before she even knew it.

* * * * *

Chapter XVI

Leave Takings

A warm breeze wafted up from the plains below, bringing forth a change in

weather that would affect them all. Viera tied back her long dark tresses, staring

blankly forward from her seat atop the worn stump of a tree. Her lunch lay

untouched on her lap, the thought of food not appealing to her very much in light of

all that had happened. The Xerkzes stone was lost and all her hard work had been

for nothing. She suppressed a sigh. They would get it back. The woman who had

taken it could not have gotten far. The problem remained however, that even if they

did catch up to the sorceress, she was not even close to being skilled enough to

defeat her.

Viera glanced sideways to where Seth sat idly picking at a green woody root

that she could never have brought herself to eat. She was worried about him. He

seemed even more detached than usual, making no attempts at conversation or

otherwise acknowledging her presence.

Viera sat down beside him without paying any attention to her half eaten

lunch, her gaze intense and her words candid. “You’ve been brooding all day, Seth.

You can’t keep holding on to what happened. No one was hurt...”

He glanced over at her, his face regaining some of its usual calm and

releasing the gloomy severity that had lain over it earlier. “Why do you always

make excuses for me? For a Keeper, you’re awfully lenient.” Her expression

darkened, but he continued in the same casual tone. “Someone could have been

hurt.” He glanced down at his hands, his face not revealing anything of the

emotions that lay beneath.

She shook her head. “What could have been does not affect what is, Seth.

We’ll keep heading west toward Venir, then we’ll go find the stone and...”

“What’s the point of that? The Xerkzes stone is gone. Even if we do get it

back, going to Venir was never a very good option.”

She frowned, her green eyes narrowing. “You already know my decision about

that. You are not leaving...”

He raised an eyebrow, having the audacity to smile slightly. “You’ve decided,

have you?”

She scowled. “We will get the stone back and don’t even think about trying to

do it yourself, or leaving just because of one incident with the magic.”

He shook his head, the grin fading as if it had never been. “It isn’t just one

incident, Viera. You need to start worrying about yourself and stop trying to excuse

me.” He rose to leave, shouting to Jack that they needed to get moving.

If nothing else, at least Jack was back to his regular self, talking idly about

his many “adventures” as he led them toward the city through the many winding

turns and splits in the trail. He was not troubled by the loss of the stone. Why

should he be? He had not even known about it until last night.

He was still a little wary around Seth, but other than that, he seemed to have

recovered rather quickly from his shock at learning, more or less, what this journey

was about. He was a good man, despite his many flaws, and he had taken the

revelation better than she would have expected. She asked him about the change

and he simply replied that he had always found it better to just accept things as

they were. Make no mistake though, as soon as they were back on the main road

and could find where to go, he would be gone. Tracking was not his strong suit, and

he had never really intended to go farther than the border cities anyways.

It was for the best she supposed. Chasing down the sorceress would be

dangerous and Jack had no protection against magic. She and Seth would just have

to do it themselves. She frowned ruefully. Do it themselves indeed. She had already

failed once, and determination did not count for much against dark magic.

It took nearly the entire day to reach Talme. The pale lights of the city shone

brightly through the descending darkness of twilight, making it easy to find, and

before long they had booked three rooms at one of the various inns. The small

alabaster sign hanging over the door was written in a strange variation of Terreth

that appeared to Viera as nothing more than meaningless squiggles, but the

establishment appealed to her anyways since it was considerably cleaner than the

others.

Jack quickly found a small game of dice going on near the back of the

common room, though this time Seth ensured it was his own money that he

gambled with. Before Viera was halfway up the stairs, she could hear the taunting

cheers emanating from a fairly satisfied Jack as another of his throws ended up in

straight sixes. The man across from him gave a muffled curse, the third competitor

muttering suspiciously about tampering with the dice. She shook her head. The

man never learned, did he? At this rate, she would be healing another broken bone

before the night was out.

Seth joined her in the room near the back of the inn that she had rented. The

chamber was barren of windows and furnishings other than a plain bed and a

lopsided table. He regarded her with a careful gaze as she paced the floor. “You’re

still worried about the stone.” It was not a question, and she sighed emphatically.

She pursed her lips, all her fragile hopes realized as nothing more than

desperate illusions. “I’ve failed. All that work to obtain it only to have it taken from

me only days away from Venir...” she trailed off.

“We’ll find her, Viera, and you’ll get back the stone. The Xerkzes stone is not

the empire’s yet.”

She shuddered slightly. She thought back to the grim scene of last night in

the forest outside Talme, the rain dripping down in heavy sheets. She had watched

from flat on the ground as the sorceress tucked the Xerkzes stone into the length of

her sleeve, unable to do anything but watch in resignation as the hope of her people

vanished from sight. “Yes, maybe we will find her, but what difference will it make?

I don’t even have a tenth of the power she does. I could not even keep it away from

her, how am I supposed to take it back?”

“I’ll find her.”

She stared at him uncertainly, noticing the odd tone that entered his voice as

he said it. I, not we. She would watch him closely tonight just to be sure. “When did

you become so optimistic? Here we are, planning to wander through the acres of

forest toward Nocturne to find some nameless hunter who would like nothing more

than to watch us die.” She bit back the rest of her words, feeling ashamed and

disappointed. Since when had she become such a coward?

Seth glanced past her to the plain stone walls of the inn. “Nyea Aterre.”

She looked up in confusion. “What?”

“The woman hunting us. Her name is Nyea Aterre, Right Hand of the

Emperor or something like that. You were right about her being a seer as well as a

telepath and a magic wielder.”

She regarded him without changing expression. “How do you know that?”

“Dreams.” He said blandly. “I can’t even remember them for the most part,

but there are flashes... of my mother and the Nocturne. I think they’re things that

happened before.... I don’t know. They did not reveal anything important until last

night.”

Her eyes widened, a faint possibility occurring to her. “Why are you only just

mentioning this now?”

He shook his head. “They were just dreams before, but there was too much in

this one that fit with what I already know for it to have been imagined.”

“You could have told me after you woke up.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “After waking, I was too focused on the

explosion of fire that almost killed everyone to think about it.”

She paused before speaking. “You see events, right? Things in the past by the

sound of it.” He nodded slightly and she continued. “If I had to guess, I would say

you have the talent of Videre. It is different from being a seer as it is not often

voluntary and usually reveals more of the past than of the future. It is a talent that

occurs among some of the Keepers as well. I do not know about others... It is when

you can see things in dreams, much like a Looking Glass, things of the past, or

things happening far away, sometimes even things yet to come. My friend Salerea

has the talent. She knows almost the entire history of Venir without ever having

learned it.” She sighed. “This may also explain how you can sense people when they

are still too far to be seen or heard. The gift works by reaching out to the world

around you. It is easiest in the subconscious which is why you see these visions in

dreams instead of while awake. I think maybe the person’s heritage has an

influence on the visions. Salerea saw the history of Venir, as well as the death of her

sister. You see flashes of the past concerning the Nocturne...” She shook her head.

“Either way, it isn’t dangerous, but it may be what sparked your magic. And

judging by the headaches...” Her eyes darkened with uncertainty, the deep green

appearing almost black from beneath half lowered lids.

He listened to the explanation calmly, gazing off at something beyond her.

“Not dangerous, unless of course the next time I wake up spouting fire, someone is

near enough to get hurt.” She frowned, meaning to speak, but he cut her off. “Never

mind. Don’t worry about it, Viera. Get some sleep. We’ll find Nyea before the week

is out.” He laughed without mirth. “Then the real trouble will start.”

She pursed her lips, unable to hide her growing trepidation. Nyea Aterre, so

that was the name of the person trying to kill them. She closed her eyes,

remembering the cold face and rosebud mouth that smiled in silent pleasure as she

worked to kill them. They had seen no sign of the sorceress since she had confronted

them in the clearing, disappearing into the night the moment their backs were

turned and taking the Xerkzes stone with her. The woman scared her; she did not

deny it. She had shattered her shield and brushed her aside without any effort at

all. Now Viera had to find her and try to overcome magic that surpassed hers in

every imaginable way. She curled her hand around the necklace at her throat. She

was a Keeper of the Light, and whatever her fears, she was determined to succeed.

Seth read the fear in her eyes, “You’ll be fine.” He said softly, his eyes

distant. She stared up at him uncertainly, not sure whether he was talking to her or

himself. She reached out a hand to stop him as he turned to leave, her bright eyes

coming to meet his own. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He arched an eyebrow, shaking his head. “Goodnight Viera.” She watched

silently as he left, waiting there for a long time before settling down to rest, her

worries disappearing in the calm emptiness of sleep.

* * * * *

Warm sunlight spilled across the plain dirt track as they made their way

through the woods, breathing in deeply the late spring air. It was edging near

summer now, and everything was lush with growth in the increasing heat of the

day. The forest around them slowly began to thin, the trees and scrub growing more

and more sparse as the landscape began to change to the open grassland

surrounding the western plains that bordered Venir.

They drew their horses to a halt, the open road ahead winding in a steady

line toward the horizon. “I’m afraid this is as far as I go.” Jack stated with faked

remorse, a smile quirking up at the corner of his mouth. “It has been a pleasure, but

it’s time I left. Follow the road straight west across the grassland for about three

days and you’ll get to the outpost of Seyadir. You probably know the route from

there to the city better than I.”

Viera shook her head. “We aren't going to Venir yet Jack.”

He sighed. “You should give up this crazed notion of yours, Viera. One stone,

no matter how magical, is not worth your lives.”

She regarded him with a calm gaze, her own fear a distant thing confined to

the recesses of her mind. “How far to Cazour?” she questioned. “If the sorceress is

heading back toward Nocturne, I can find my way back to the Endless Plains, but I

need to reach Cazour first.”

He gave another sigh, staring at her with disgruntlement in his gaze. “Two

days north. If the witch has gone that way, you can find out from the people there.”

She smiled at him, reaching toward the pouch at her side to extract his pay.

“Thank you Jack.” she said, pressing the coins firmly into his hands. “You’ve been a

great help.”

He hesitated a moment before tucking away the mound of gold, looking

distinctly uncomfortable. “Keep safe Viera, you too kid.” he said, nodding to Seth

who simply raised an eyebrow. “And good luck with your...er, hunt.” He reined his

mount about, heading back down the road toward Talme.

They dismounted and drew out a mix of bread and fruit for lunch. Jack had

insisted on eating once he got back to town and had not stuck around for the meal.

Though he gave no outward sign of it, he had been eager to be gone ever since he

discovered their intentions of following “the witch” as he called her, to get back the

stone. He had done more than she expected by bringing them this far, and if her

suspicions were correct, he had never really intended to go all the way to Venir in

the first place.

She sighed; Seth assured her that he could track the sorceress, but she was

afraid of what would happen once they found her. If she was a seer, she would know

before they arrived that they were coming.

Seth glanced over at her, seeming to read her mind. “The Xerkzes stone will

be back in our hands and on its way to Venir in only a few days. Worrying about it

does nothing.”

She suppressed a grimace. “That it was ever taken in the first place is

already too much of a problem not to worry about.”

His gaze did not waver, eyebrows raising slightly. She glared at him, but

there was no real venom behind the look. “Everyone gets scared, Viera. You

retrieved the talisman from the middle of the empire. How much easier is it to take

it from one injured sorceress? No matter how powerful she may be, you defeated her

back in Faelyon, and she almost died the last time. If all Venishians are like you, I

don’t see how the empire will ever win.”

She smiled faintly. He had been surprisingly reassuring ever since last night.

His earlier foul mood seemed to have dissipated and his words had a ring of truth to

them that was comforting.

“How long exactly from the outpost he mentioned to Venir?”

She frowned uncertainly. “Two days walk. Just over a day on horseback.

Seyadir is a small outpost for Venishian scouts. It’s not far from the city. Why do

you ask?”

He did not change expression, but something in his eyes made her suspicious.

“It isn’t far then. We can travel there quickly after getting the stone back.” What he

said made sense, but there were undercurrents in his tone that made her question

whether the reason he gave was really why he had asked the question.

They resumed their journey along the road and stopped for the night in a

small meadow a mile back into the forest, just to be safe. Viera ate her meal without

really tasting anything, her mind elsewhere. A mix of leaves and roots found in the

area surrounding their campsite made for a nice tea. The warm liquid came as a

treat after almost two months of nothing but water and cheap wine. She had been

thoroughly educated as a child about plants and herbs, for in Venir, training in

medicine was valued as even more important than learning how to handle weapons.

To preserve life was the ultimate goal of her people, and healing was an integral

part of their identity.

Seth sat silently across from her, those dark eyes distant and plunged deep in

thought. He did not look at her as she finished the drink. He had drunken one

himself but for all his enthusiasm, it might as well have been boiled grass. He had

volunteered to take up first watch and knowing him, he would have stayed up

whether or not she had accepted the offer. She played idly with a strand of hair as

she studied him, her green eyes intent. Something about him had been bothering

her all day, yet she did not know what it was. She suspected there was something

he was keeping from her, but then again, he had never been comfortable with

revealing much of anything to anyone.

She gave up her query, unable to see beneath the expression of utter calm

that lay over his face, and settled down to sleep. She was surprised at how tired she

felt, exhaustion seeping over her with increasing strength until she could resist it

no longer. Somewhere in the back of her mind a small voice whispered that

something was not right, but by then she was too far gone to hear it.

* * * * *

Seth watched from out of the corner of his eye as Viera drifted off to sleep.

Within moments of lying down she was breathing deeply, the slow movement of her

chest marking the success of the herb he had slipped into her tea. He stared down

at the delicate indigo flower clutched loosely in one hand. It grew throughout the

realm, a sedative known as Night Lace. Therin Whitewood had been quite insistent

about the matter of his education, the vast library of books collecting dust in the

cellar of the old manor covering everything from politics, and waging war, to botany.

Viera would not wake until late next morning, and by then, he would be far enough

away that the spell she had cast to track him would be rendered useless.

He rose to his feet, saddling his horse and setting out with nothing more than

a few items of food, his sword, and the clothes on his back. She could not come with

him to retrieve the Xerkzes stone. Nyea was too dangerous for him to allow it. She

would never have listened if he had simply told her this and so it was that he had

been forced to resort to more underhanded means. Viera believed that the stone was

her responsibility, but she could not kill the sorceress. The only hope was that his

magic would work as intended for once and overcome the seer before she had time

to stop it.

It was only a five day journey to Venir; Viera would be safe there, even if he

would not. Once he had regained the Xerkzes stone, he would return it to her there.

He had kept his bargain and guided her through the southern forests. He had saved

her life twice and he was not about to undo all that by getting her killed.

He looked out into the scattering of trees, galloping north toward Cazour. If

Jack was to be believed, the city lay just outside one of the only passes leading to

the Endless Plains where Nyea would be headed. With a little luck, he would come

across Nyea’s tracks on the road to the city; she did not have that large a lead and

with a little effort, he could catch up to her in a couple of days. He was an excellent

tracker, and wherever the sorceress was, he intended to find her. The empire could

not be allowed to regain the stone, and like it or not, she had the answers to his

questions.

He frowned at the last part, the fragmented images of what he remembered

from his dreams flooding back to him. He was in the dark about his heritage and

there were too many things he did not know. He remembered only glimpses like

that of his mother, her blue eyes filled with iron hard resolve as she declared she

would not stand for what the empire was doing, the high sloped walls of the

chamber lit with torches as the man spoke to Silena....

He pressed a hand to his forehead as he felt the onset of the headache that

always accompanied his visions, gripping tightly the reins of his mount to keep from

falling. Fragmented images were all he remembered of the dreams. Viera had told

him he had the talent of Videre, The Sight, but no matter how hard he tried to

remember, many things from his visions eluded him. He wondered suddenly if it

was the same with Viera’s friend; a shame he would never meet her to find out.

He brought his attention back to the matter at hand. What he was doing was

stupid. Nyea was more experienced than him, more skilled in every way, but as long

as she lived she would never stop hunting them, of that he was sure. Even though

she had taken the stone, as soon as it was safely back within the empire she would

return. She would not be satisfied until both he and Viera were dead, simply

because she would not stand for being beaten as she had been during their last two

encounters. He shook his head, not sure how he knew that. He recalled once more

the vision of the castle hall, the students lined up in front of a man kneeling on the

floor as Nyea stepped forward to act…

He blinked in an attempt to clear the blurriness from his eyes that resulted

from the blossoming pain in his head. He needed answers. Nyea had known his

mother; she had recognized him well enough when she had first seen him in

Faelyon. She had spoken of a prophecy as well; she would know. He breathed in

deeply, revelling in the feel of the cool night air rushing by his face. Going alone to

confront Nyea was beyond crazy. She had nearly killed him both times they had

met, but Viera could not come. If she died... He shook his head. Such thoughts were

dangerous. It did not matter how he felt about her. He was a dark magic wielder

and she was a Keeper, and unless something changed with his magic, each moment

around her was just another chance for another accident like the night in the woods.

The pounding of hooves was the only sound to disturb the silence of the forest

around him as he rode. Viera had no chance of catching him. He would be miles

away by the time she awoke. In two days he would be in Cazour, then he would find

Nyea. He kept his features blank, his eyes dark and brooding. He was a fool, but

foolish or not he was intent on this course.

He tore through the barrier of trees and back onto the main road, black cloak

flying out behind him as he disappeared into the night.

* * * * *

Chapter XVII

The Hunt Begins

Viera’s eyes snapped open, and she flew to her feet in one smooth motion

despite her grogginess. She knew the moment she awakened that he was gone, only

needing to look over at the missing horse and empty blankets to confirm her

suspicion. She quickly pulled on her boots and cloak, her gaze falling on the empty

teacup lying beside her and naming it the source of her unnatural drowsiness. She

strode over to the maze of brush that surrounded the clearing, her eyes falling on a

small dark flower. She would never have noticed it if had she not been looking, but

now it was right at the center of her vision.

She reached down into the tangle of greenery and took hold of the plant,

careful to avoid the numerous brambles and thorns that grew around it. She stared

down at the dark stain of black liquid the flower left on her fingers, completely

odorless and without color once dissolved in water. She swore silently to herself.

Night Lace grew in almost every region. It was a powerful sedative and almost

untraceable as well.

She chided herself for being so foolish. She had never stopped to think that

Seth could do something like this. How he knew of herbs and when he had slipped

the drug into her tea she still did not know, but then again, this was not the first

thing he had done that surprised her.

She peered up at the sky. It was sometime around mid-morning, the sun

nearly halfway toward its peak. The spell she had cast should have woken her the

moment Seth drew more than a few meters away, but the drug had done its job

well, and now he was too far away for the link to work.

She bundled up her things, saddling her horse and preparing to depart. The

Xerkzes stone was on its way to the empire and it was her duty to stop it from

getting there at all costs, but if she knew Seth, he had not chosen now to leave

simply out of coincidence. He would try to retrieve the stone on his own, try to kill

the sorceress Nyea by himself despite how dangerous and utterly foolish that was.

She shook her head. Find one, and she would locate the other.

She cast around the empty clearing, searching for any sort of a trail. She was

no tracker, and it would be nigh impossible to find Seth if he did not want to be

found. She swung smoothly up into her saddle, calming her mind and focusing her

energy. She had her own ways of finding things that Seth had not anticipated. A

pale glow spread out from around her outstretched fingers, falling on a faint set of

tracks leading off into the forest in the direction of the city of Cazour.

She spurred her mount forward, weaving through the cluster of trees and

following the invisible trail before her to Seth. She glanced over her shoulder to the

path leading west toward Venir. She would have to wait a little while longer before

returning home, and when she did, she vowed that it would not be alone.

* * * * *

Nyea Aterre strode calmly through the gray landscape surrounding the city of

Cazour. She had spent a full day in recovery after the confrontation in the woods

before she had been fit for travel. A whole day wasted all because of that accursed

child! She stared down at the city sprawling below. She had done a fair job of

making up for lost time by riding non-stop for the past three days, but even so, she

had not gone far enough.

She sighed sullenly as she rose to continue her trek north. She had

commandeered a horse from a passing patrol of soldiers who happened to have the

misfortune of getting in her way. Such patrols were often found guarding the main

roads near major cities like Cazour in order to drive off bandits and spot any

suspicious activities from travellers such as herself who were agents of the empire.

This particular group of men had made quite a nuisance of themselves and it was

with no small amount of pleasure that she had doled out the consequence for their

poor judgement and taken their lives. First disposing of the company commander

who had had the audacity to hinder her, then seeing to the others and choosing her

mount. The animal had been the best among the lot. However, the creature’s

endurance had been disappointingly poor, and it had collapsed from exhaustion

after only two days hard riding. She wished faintly that she had brought one of her

own animals from the Lands of Night. A Voterre stallion could run three times as

long as these creatures could without rest, not to mention being faster and much

more useful in a fight.

She slowly surveyed the landscape before her. The vast city below was spread

out across the valley, easily spanning the length of the pass that led back toward

the kingdom of Nocturne. The pass was one of the only unguarded routes back into

the empire, but it was not what she had come here for. She pulled back the hood of

her cloak, long white hair falling to almost mid-way down her back. She had no

need to conceal herself in such a remote area, and the long cloak was stifling. She

had decided early on that she did not have time to waste trekking across the entire

breadth of the Endless Plains and then into the capital city of Nocturne. The small

tower at the edge of Cazour was what she was looking for. It was remarkably

similar to the ruin near the city of Nocturne, both in layout and content. With what

she would find there, she could return to the palace the same way she had departed.

She glanced down at the flawless gem lying in her hand. The Xerkzes stone

was hers now. She would bring it to Voren because it suited her purpose, and then

when it was time, she would reclaim it and she would control the empire. She

tucked the talisman back into her sleeve. At the moment, she could not use the

talisman. Voren had placed wards around the stone to prevent anyone besides

himself from using it. Her magic was too different from his own to fool the ward,

and even the slightest mistake could trigger its defences. With time, she could

unravel it, but it was much better to wait and let him remove the guard for her.

Her eyes became unfocused as an unexpected vision took her, arriving in a

series of vivid images that flashed before her eyes. The young Keeper leaps to her

feet, her eyes widening in frustration and surprise as she realizes she is alone. Far

away a shadowy figure rides off into the forest. The Keeper knows why he is gone and

she quickly prepares to follow...

Nyea smiled. She had seen the same vision the first morning after she had

gained possession of the Xerkzes stone, though it had become decidedly clearer since

then. If the boy thought he could catch her unawares, he was sorely mistaken. Let

him follow her if he chose. He would find quite a surprise waiting for him when he

did. The Keeper she could deal with later, but there was no reason not to kill the

boy now and then return the stone to its rightful place within the empire. She

frowned, her eyes dark pools hardening slowly to ice as another vision filled her

awareness. It was the first time she had seen such a possibility, and the

implications were decidedly unpleasant. Voren would not be pleased if that one

came to pass.

She strode out onto the cliff’s edge, searching the woods below one final time

before beginning the slow descent toward the city. She would need a guide in order

to locate the ruin, for it was too well concealed in the thousands of acres of trees

that spread out around her to find on her own.

She hummed softly to herself as she walked. Nothing had changed in the

tables of fate, and soon everything would be back to the way it was meant to be.

Only then would she worry about the troubling possibility of betrayal.

* * * * *

Seth’s gaze remained steady as he calmly observed the faint trail left by the

sorceress. It had been two days since he had left Viera in the clearing. Hopefully by

now she was halfway to Venir. Just this once perhaps, she had done what was best

for her and gone home.

He rose from his study of the day-old tracks beaten into the clumps of matted

grass beneath his feet. He had come across Nyea’s trail on the road leading north

from Talme; she had started on foot then procured a mount a few hours in. Judging

by the pace at which she moved and the dead bodies of armored men from whom

she had gotten the horse, she was far from injured. He frowned at the thought. He

did not know how she had recovered so swiftly from such dire wounds, but somehow

she had, which meant he would not be facing an already weakened opponent like he

had supposed, but a trained sorceress in all her power.

He remounted, charging down the road at a steady pace. He should have

already caught up to her by now, but it was evident from her trail that the woman

rode at near breakneck speed. He had found her mount dead from exhaustion a few

miles back, but even on foot she still moved fast. He came out on a large overhang

overlooking the city of Cazour. For all its seclusion, it was certainly a great sight,

with polished stone spires and high walls reaching straight toward the heavens.

The sorceress’s tracks ran down the narrow path toward the city, but there was

something odd in the way she had stopped here to study the landscape before

proceeding. It was easy enough to find the mountain pass, so there seemed no

logical explanation for what she could have been searching for, but whatever it was,

he could tell by the marks on the ground that she had not found it. The woman had

a habit of pacing whenever she was distressed. She had done it often enough for

him to know. If only he could remember....

He grimaced at the flaring pain forming within his skull. The headaches

made it so that trying to remember his dreams was not an option, and even if he

could recall the visions, he doubted that the fragmented glimpses would help him

right now anyway. He stared unhappily down at the steep trail twisting down the

side of the hill. It was too dangerous to attempt for his horse, which meant that once

again he had lost his advantage and would have to follow the seer on foot.

He led the tall gray back into the trees a ways before removing the reins and

continuing alone. He would have to push himself twice as hard now to catch up with

Nyea. He had to intercept her before she re-entered Nocturne, or any hope he had of

recovering the stone would vanish. Nightfall was quickly descending and the

ominous horde of dark clouds that covered the sky spoke of a coming storm. He

followed the trail closely, quickly arriving at the base of the mountain and moving

on to the city beyond.

Too many people travelled this area to keep sight of Nyea’s tracks, but

whatever she was looking for, she would probably need to seek help from within the

city in order to find it. He pulled up the hood of his cloak, overshadowing his face

beneath the broad covering of black cloth. The woman could not run forever.

He strode forward, emerging out from under the covering of trees and joining

a procession of people on their way into the city. It was not long before he found

what he was looking for.

* * * * *

Chapter XVIII

A Man of Principle

Torrents of wind made a tangle of Saelam’s cloak as he hurried through

the quickly emptying streets of his home city. The wind had been picking up

steadily ever since nightfall, a dark omen of the approaching storm. The man

angrily straightened the dark green folds, only to have them blow back a moment

later to strangle him. Most of his clothing was fine, from the gold embroidery lining

his coat to the heavy velvet cape. Some would say he squandered his riches, but

what was the point of wealth if not to spend it? He was somewhere in his late

thirties, with coarse blond hair that fell in frayed strings down to his shoulders,

along with a protruding nose and squinted eyes that gave him a slight resemblance

to a rat. He had a nervous habit of stroking his moustache that placed him in some

minds as malicious and not to be trusted, and in truth, the assessment was not far

off. Greedy as well as envious, Saelam had quite a shifty nature and would do

almost anything for even the smallest scrap of gold. He had killed his own master

then taken his land, not that anyone knew about that, but besides that one act he

had never openly committed a crime. He was too much a coward to stand up to

anyone and had spent most of his life grovelling at others’ feet rather than stand up

and risk retaliation.

He glanced happily down at the fat pouch of gold now dangling at his waste.

The woman had paid him quite handsomely for such simple directions, though why

she wanted to find a place like Sien’Sorte was beyond him. He drew open the

drawstrings of the pouch, glancing down at the gleaming metal displayed below. He

would count it later once he was back at the inn. Not that it mattered if it wasn’t all

there. The woman who had given it to him gave off an aura of danger, and he would

sooner saw off his arm than go after her to demand his full payment.

In truth, he was not one to speak of keeping his word as he seldom fulfilled

his part of agreements, but with her it had been different. Hard eyed and cold, that

woman was not the sort you lied to, and his directions had been good enough. He

had been to the ruin a thousand times himself and he knew the route well. It was a

disturbing setting with an unnatural feel to the whole of it. Most people went to

great lengths to avoid the place, but creepy or not, the place had held enough gold to

buy the whole kingdom. A pity most of it had been too deep down for him to reach

when he had ventured there. Now, Sien’Sorte had been bled dry of all its riches and

was nothing more than a collection of rubble, though the oppressive air of death

that hung over the area was enough to send anyone running.

He rounded a corner, moving away from the main street toward a tavern at

the far side of the city where he could spend his riches. He gave a start as he felt the

press of a blade against his back, face paling as he turned to see the man who held

it. A tall cloaked figure had fallen in beside him, one hand holding the thick

material of his cloak tight about him to ward off the wind and the other pressing the

knife to his midsection. He had not seen the man approach; silent and deadly, he

reminded him somewhat of the woman he had met earlier on.

“You’re Saelam I take it.” he said calmly, his voice devoid of emotion.

Saelam cleared his throat hurriedly. “I’m afraid your mistaken, sir. I...” His

face drained of blood as the dagger pressed closer, piercing through his coat and

sending a trickle of blood down his back. The man motioned toward an alley and he

eagerly complied, falling into step beside him with a sinking feeling in the pit of his

stomach. To any passerby, it would only appear as if two people were walking

together toward the shelter of the back ways to escape the storm. Neither the

dagger nor the hand that held it were visible in the way the attacker held the blade,

but by the feel of cold hard steel prickling his skin, Saelam knew that with even

slightly more pressure on the hilt he would be dead before he could so much as

scream.

They reached the shadows of the alley and the man turned to face him, dark

eyes catching the light briefly before falling back into shadow. The blade turned to

level with his neck, the side of the knife pressing hard against his throat. “What do

you know of Nyea Aterre?”

Saelam blinked in surprise; the question was not what he had expected, and

he smiled nervously. “I’m afraid you have the wrong person. I’ve never heard of

anyone by the name of Nyea Aterre. Though I’d be happy to help...”

He yelped as the knife dropped down to his waist cleaving through the tie on

his belt like quicksilver before rising to his chest. His interrogator studied the pouch

of coins a moment before turning his gaze back toward Saelam. “Maybe she didn’t

tell you her name, but she paid you for directions. Where was she going and why did

she want to keep it a secret?”

“I never knew who she was, I swear.” He whined. “She just wanted to know

how to find some place in the woods. I’m a man of principle you see and I would

never have....”

The man trailed off in his speech as the tip of the dagger drew a fresh trickle

of blood from his chest. “Where was she going?” The stranger across from him

repeated, not showing the slightest sign of impatience in his tone, though the

increasing pressure of the dagger said otherwise.

“Sien’Sorte. It’s a ruin at the edge of the city, a few miles into the forest. It’s

nowhere really. I could show you where...”

“Just tell me.” He stated coldly and Saelam was only too eager to comply.

Saelam’s words came out in a rush, stumbling over one another in his desperate

attempt to fulfil the stranger’s request and avoid incurring his wrath. The man

listened to the instructions without saying a word, regarding him with a level gaze,

his eyes dark pools beneath his cowl. “Is this exactly what you told her? I would

hate to be you right now if you lied to either one of us.”

Saelam shivered at the coldness in his tone. “Never! It was all true, every

word, I swear.” He gasped, the last part almost a whimper.

The other nodded, taking a step back after he was finished and lowering the

dagger. “Go home, Saelam. Take this with you.” he muttered, tossing the packet of

coins through the air. “Worms like you don’t deserve it, but take it anyway.”

The man murmured his gratitude, expressing how thankful he was and all

the while silently flinching under the weight of the other man’s stare. He stumbled

out of the alley with the pouch of gold pressed tight against his chest. He should

never have spoken to that woman, but then again if he had not, he probably would

not be here now, just as if he had refused that man. He shivered; he would bet

anything that they were both from the empire. The Nocturnes’ agents often entered

the city, though none came looking for a place like Sien’Sorte. Maybe the woman

had simply been searching for somewhere to hide. If the man ever found her and the

two did meet, it would definitely have been an interesting battle to watch. Though it

would have to be watched from a good distance away, that was certain.

Saelam entered the inn with an oily smile on his face, slipping the bartender

a few coins and taking a drink while shooting appreciative looks at the passing

serving girls before going up to his rooms. Overall, he was quite satisfied with how

things had turned out, and the comforting weight of the gold at his side did a

considerable amount to increase his merriment. He reached into the pouch and

pulled his hand back with a yelp, seeing for the first time the small spike nestled

right in the center of the coins, its black point dripping with venom.

The man swayed woozily as the room began to spin, lines of fire shooting up

his arm from the prick in his finger. Only the smallest of wounds, it should not have

been enough to kill him, but as he lurched toward the stairs the slow burning

increased and he found himself flat on the floor with his vision a blur.

It was two hours later when the maid found him dead, giving a small scream

and calling the innkeeper up to see. She pointed out the corpse with shaking

fingers, a small puddle of drool dribbling out from the victim’s slack-jawed face. The

wizened old man stared down at the pale waxen form of Saelam Zerathi, his face

impassive as he sighed. The shattered remnant of a beer bottle lay in a pool on the

floor and the man quickly assumed what had happened. “Go tell the city watch and

get that body out of here. Be careful now Cathy. If there’s any grime, I don’t want it

on the floors.”

* * * * *

Chapter XIX

Where the Trail Ends

Shadows twisted throughout the cavernous room, rivers of water pouring

down from the many cracks that split the rotted wood of the stable. It was an ideal

hiding place, if not a very comfortable one, providing concealment and protection

from the storm that raged without. A trickle of water ran down from the rafters

above, dripping down onto the upturned face of the person sleeping there and

waking him from his troubled rest. Seth’s eyes flew open, and he peered out through

a small gap in the side of the barn to the landscape beyond.

The pale gray light of predawn gave everything an ethereal feel, painting the

world in a pale watercolor of light and shadows. The pounding rain had finally

ceased, the still dripping foliage and sodden terrain giving evidence of the storm’s

passage. The sky was devoid of even the smallest of clouds and the cold crispness of

the air showed his breath in thick swirls, even from within the stable.

Seth rose from the place he had been resting, pushing aside the clumps of

damp straw and preparing to depart. The wind had died down to a small breeze and

the vicious forks of lightning that had split the air were no longer in evidence. He

did not know whether Nyea had stopped to wait out the storm, but if she had not,

he had lost whatever ground he had gained these past few days and would be hard

pressed to catch up with her.

The ferocity of yesterday’s storm had made it impossible to make any

headway. Already wearied from days of tracking, he had not had the endurance to

fight through the gales of hundred kilometre winds and stinging rain that had beset

him. The abandoned stable at the side of the road had provided shelter once it

became evident he could not continue, and he had eagerly taken what little rest he

could, though the haze of bloody visions, both real and imagined, had woken him

with his heart pounding out of his chest more often than not.

Seth unbolted the worn double doors of the barn, the rusted hinges squealing

in protest as he forced them open. The dirt track in front of him had been washed

clean of tracks. If not for the directions he had obtained from the man known as

Saelam Zerathi, he would have had no chance of finding the sorceress. It was

chance alone that had led him to the man. He sighed, reflecting on the encounter.

Finding anything in a city as vast as Cazour had been difficult, but luckily for him,

at the first tavern he had stopped in he had encountered a very disgruntled patron

who had avidly complained to him about how many strangers kept “defiling her

beautiful city with all their ignorance and riffraff” as she had phrased it.

He shook his head, remembering the small woman. “She was a menace!” The

woman whispered covertly, nodding emphatically as if to emphasize the point. She

was a small lady, somewhere in her mid-twenties with long hair the color of ink tied

back in a tight bun, her rich clothes embroidered with gems and stained with spilt

alcohol. Why she was visiting a place like the tavern, he was unsure, but then again,

there had been a lot of wealthy nobles in that particular place. It was obvious from

the first words she spoke that she was drunk, swaying unsteadily as she walked over

to his table and talking in low tones with every third word slurred to

incomprehensibility.

Their encounter had been nothing more than a coincidence really. He had been

asking around the place for someone matching the description of Nyea Aterre, but no

one had come forward with anything until then. “Oh her!” The woman exclaimed,

placing a hand on his arm. “Don’t know why you’d be looking for her. Very

unpleasant. Eyes like ice that one.” she giggled. “Much more pleasant company here

than that woman.”

“I’m sure there is.” he said calmly. “You don’t happen to know why she was

here, do you?”

The smile faded, replaced by a sour pout. “Came here searching for some sort

of place or whatever. Stupid foreigners, always so harsh, no fun at all. Defiling my

beautiful city with all their ignorance and riffraff and...and... well, you know.” She

shivered. “Had the look of a Nocturne. Cloaked head and foot and those eyes....

Figures that she’d be looking for someone like Saelam. No good lout that he is.

Hangs around this place most of the time. He might know where to find her, not that

anyone should want to find her.” she smiled at him coyly, long eyelashes lowering.

“You could buy me a drink and then we can talk some more. I kind of like you. All

dark and mysterious...”

There had been nothing useful after that. It had been easy for him to slip

away after two more drinks left her unconscious on the table. She probably would

not remember the conversation at all by the time she awoke. He had found Saelam

wandering around the streets with the full pouch of gold cradled in his hand. That

alone made it evident that this was the man Nyea had chosen as her guide. The

man had been very forthcoming with his answers. The moment he felt the knife in

Seth’s hand, he had looked ready to faint. Very likely, he would have sold his own

mother just to avoid feeling that dagger point any closer. Seth frowned. He knew

the man’s kind, greedy snakes afraid of their own shadows. He had no doubt the

man had stolen and murdered for his wealth. He probably deserved to die, but Seth

would not be the one to do it.

He set off at a run across the muddy track. The ruin of Sien’Sorte was only a

few miles north, hidden in the center of the forest, far removed from any roads or

known paths. He had memorized the directions given to him by Saelam and it

would be easy enough to get there. He only hoped he was not too far behind Nyea

and that there would be tracks to follow once he arrived.

The pale light of dawn grew steadily stronger, though the sun would not top

the horizon for another few hours to come. The trail angled left into the forest a few

hundred meters away from the barn and Seth followed the path for a mile before

veering off into the dense foliage of the wood.

A strange feeling overcame him as he travelled, growing steadily stronger the

closer he came to the ruin. Something about this wasn’t right. There was an odd feel

of anticipation that lay heavy on the air. He would need to step carefully he sensed,

or else suffer the consequences of his brashness. He peered through the veil of

leaves to the first of the crumpled stone pillars that marked the entrance to the

ruin. A single stone spire towered high above the rubble, the only whole object

amongst the debris. He stared silently at the building, rounded walls of gray stone

carved with ancient runes standing out against the dark landscape beyond. A single

window overlooked the river below, and something about the place seemed oddly

familiar. The waters of the river swelled well beyond the confinement of the banks,

the earlier storm having flooded the area. He picked his way carefully through the

toppled stones, keeping to the high ground to avoid the water pooled below.

There was no sign of Nyea Aterre, no tracks of any kind to indicate her

passage and he swore under his breath at the possibility that she had escaped him.

The sudden feel of static that charged the air was the only warning he had before

chaos erupted. A single bolt of electricity rocketed through the air, striking the

ground not two feet in front of his face, exactly where he would have been standing

had he not drawn up short. The ground beneath him exploded in a spray of dust as

he was flung from his feet and sent hurling through the air, a faint wall of dark

energy shielding him from the chunks of stone sent flying in every direction and

muffling the effects of the attack.

He struck the ground hard, rolling across the rough flagstone and skidding to

a stop a few meters from the base of the tower. He rose to his knees, struggling to

get breath back into his body as black spots danced in front of his vision. His arms

were a mass of scrapes, raw and stinging from being dragged across the pavement.

A black cloaked figure became visible from behind a haze of dust and he struck

without thinking, the magic roaring to life with a frightening intensity and

wrapping around its intended target in a wave of shadow.

A flash of light appeared in front of the figure and cut through the blanket in

one smooth stroke. Pale features caught the light as the woman pulled back her

hood, impossibly dark eyes flaring with outrage as she caught sight of him. She

raised her arm in a sweeping motion and he dove to the side just in time to avoid

the spear of dark energy that demolished the section of stone where he had been

lying only seconds before.

He crouched down behind the remnants of a building, keeping to the shadows

and moving with silent ease as he readied himself for another attack. The clouds of

dust that billowed through the air limited his vision to only a few feet, but it did the

same for his opponent as well and he did not need to see in order to find her. He

called forth the magic in a flash, motioning sharply as he had seen her do and

unleashing the magic in a bolt of black electricity. A wall of energy rose up between

the two and the lightning was deflected sideways by the buffer, impacting the stone

to the left in a shower of rubble.

Nyea laughed, her lips splitting wide into a feral smile. “Is that the best you

can do? It seems I set this trap for nothing. I could have simply confronted you and

it would have had the same result.” The smile faded into a glare as she scanned the

ruins without. “Did you think to surprise me, boy? We shall see who gets the best of

whom this time.”

He sent out another wave of energy, sickly yellow light flooding out from the

air around the sorceress and attempting to choke the life from her just as he had

done with the Demor. The woman stumbled back, her hand flashing through the air

and shooting a streamer of fire two inches left of his head. He flinched back from

the strike, the interruption breaking his concentration and giving the sorceress the

opportunity she needed to negate his attack.

Nyea regained her composure, scanning the shadows around her, her cold

gaze floating right over the place where he hid. “You wish to keep hidden then? You

cannot possibly win either way, but keep cowering if you like. You are not the only

one accustomed to striking from the shadows.” She melted back into the swirls of

dust behind her, disappearing from sight just as easily as he had.

He crept cautiously sideways, making no sound as he moved. The magic

roiled within him, simmering just beneath the surface as if a living thing, eager to

be used. The feel of the dark magic made him sick to his stomach, a venomous

snake slithering over his skin, liable to bite at any moment. It was an effort to hold

it in check and each time he attacked, that hold slipped a little further beyond his

reach.

A searing pain suddenly flared all over his body and he fought back a scream

as he collapsed to the ground. A flash of movement at the corners of his vision

caught his attention and he flung a spike of energy toward the figure. He was

quickly rewarded with a cry of pain as the magic broke through the sorceress’s

shield and knocked her off her feet.

The pain that had filled him dissipated, and he regained his footing in the

blink of an eye. Nyea lashed out at him before he had a chance to strike and he

locked his arms in front of him in imitation of something he had seen her do. A

shimmering screen of dark energy appeared in front of him and the magic slid off

the barrier without making any sort of imprint at all. He shot his arm forward and

the shield folded into a blade like formation, cutting right through Nyea’s shield and

sending her flying.

A small smile spread over Seth’s face as the magic struck. Rage and a twisted

sense of joy among other dark emotions emanated from the magic, flowing through

him with steadily increasing strength as he attacked. He experienced a sense of

sheer glee as he watched his energy split through his enemy’s shield, craving the

moment when it would finish her, waiting in anticipation for the moment of her

death. His eyes widened in horror and he walled away the force without a second

thought. A sudden bout of nausea churned his stomach, and he had to fight down

the urge to vomit at the sudden vertigo that beset him. He had never before felt

such resistance when locking away the magic, and the reality of what he had just

experienced terrified him.

He looked up, pushing down the sudden queasiness and searching out his

quarry. Nyea was nowhere to be found, having faded back into the shadows to nurse

her wounds. He clenched his fists in frustration, straightening uncertainly and

scanning the devastation around him. A blur of motion off to one side drew his

attention away from the rubble and he turned just in time to block another careful

assault from out of the shadows. The force of the blow knocked him back a few

steps, and he recovered just in time to catch sight of the fleeing form of Nyea Aterre,

her nearly white hair disappearing behind the corner of the stairwell as she entered

the only standing structure within the ruin.

Seth darted after her, ascending the worn stone steps with surprising

alacrity. Swirls of dust filled the stairwell, billowing up from beneath his boots with

each step as he climbed. He reached the top of the flight of stairs, moving with

stealth as well as caution as he approached the chamber beyond. Chipped stone

engravings and flaking mortar were all that remained in the keep that had once

been the center of this place, all gold and precious materials having either decayed

or been stolen centuries ago, with what little that survived being looted by passing

marauders and thieves.

He paused at the entrance to the room, sliding his sword from out of its

sheath and holding it before him in anticipation of the attack that was to come. The

polished steel would not do him much good against the sorceress’s magic, but he

was reluctant to use his own after what had happened outside.

The woman’s strike came without warning, the small dagger blade grazing

his shoulder as he diverted it from its initial target at his throat. The black metal

burned like fire as it tore through the skin of his arm, and he stumbled backward in

shock as the poignant sting changed to a slow burn that spread throughout the

limb.

Nyea smiled in delight as his sword tumbled from numb fingers, his vision

already beginning to blur. “You see, child, there was no way for you to win. Now you

will die a painful death because of your impetuous behavior. Had you not provoked

me, I might have been lenient and let you live, but now I am quite satisfied to watch

as my poison slowly drains away your life.” She held up the dagger she had pierced

him with, the short black blade gleaming with a thin film of green liquid smeared

along its length. Seth stared at the weapon with a grim set to his jaw as the

realization dawned on him. “This particular poison takes a fair amount of time to

kill.” the sorceress remarked. “Though it will incapacitate the victim immediately

after striking, unless the wound is mortal, the person will not die for at least an

hour after.”

She ran her finger along the smooth edge of the knife, idly examining the

emerald venom staining her finger. “Completely harmless until it enters the

bloodstream. I used the same on that worthless rat Saelam Zerathi. Though of

course, I did not kill him right away. Instead I hid a nice little surprise for him in

that bag of coin I gave him. Odds are he’s convulsing on a floor somewhere as my

poison drains away his life. His fate shall be much the same as yours in that

respect. It was very fortunate that he stayed alive long enough to tell you where to

find me. It would have been a great pity if you had not been able to stride right into

my trap as you did. In the end, it all worked very well, did it not?” She arched an

eyebrow at him, her face cold and dispassionate despite the smile that graced her

lips. “Did you really think you could track me here without me knowing? I see

everything, and I knew very well that you would follow me.”

Her smile broadened, her eyes flaring with a look of madness. “Now you will

die, and all because of this.” She hefted the Xerkzes stone, the smooth polished

edges catching the light. “Did you think to save the little Keeper by coming here all

by yourself? I will greatly enjoy watching her die, almost as much as you. Once I’ve

taken her to the emperor and wrung all Venir’s secrets out of her pretty little head...

Yes, that will be most satisfying.”

Seth stared at her with hatred in his eyes, fighting against the haziness that

hung over his vision. The burning had spread to encompass his entire body and it

was growing increasingly harder to keep a clear head, flashes of hot and cold

rushing through him in worsening waves. Nyea laughed, the sound sharp and

seemingly unnatural as it reverberated through the small chamber. “You really are

a fool.” her gaze narrowed suddenly, her eyes discerning. “Or perhaps you did not

come here for the stone, but because you still do not know anything of who or what

you are.” She grimaced. “Then die in ignorance, boy. A pity you cannot stay alive a

little longer. I would greatly prefer that you see the Venishian die first, but the

emperor cannot know of you, so you must die here.”

Seth struggled through the muddle of his thoughts and desperately searched

for a plan, anything that could save him from this, or at least bring Nyea down with

him. His gaze locked on the stone clutched tightly between the long, slender fingers

of the woman across from him, the polished edges glowing with light. Why hadn’t

she used it to fight him? Why didn’t she make use of its power? Why hadn’t Viera

for that matter? The more he thought about it, the more the question tugged at him.

He felt his strength slowly draining from his body and Nyea’s laughter was

heard as if from miles away. Wards... He thought blearily. There were probably

wards around the stone. Viera had talked often enough during their travels about

how magic wielders protected their cities, or talismans. He stared grimly at the

stone, all his attention focused on that one object. Wards protected against the

intrusion of other magic; if so, a concentrated attack should cause a reaction, and if

he could just...

He slid down to one knee, everything around him taking on a spinning

motion. “You can feel it now, can’t you?” the sorceress taunted. “Soon the pain will

come as the venom enters your heart, and it’s only downhill from there.”

Seth raised his head, his eyes meeting the woman’s cruel gaze, her pitiless

eyes black pools that stretched out into the depths of her twisted soul.

Determination alone was all that kept him from falling to the floor as he spat out

his response to her taunting from between gritted teeth. “I won’t be the only one to

die here, Nyea.” The sorceress jerked upward upon hearing her name and he

reached deep inside himself to the place where the magic resided. He lashed out

with all the strength he could muster, unleashing the magic in an angry torrent at

the target in front of him.

A shimmer of light rose up in front of the sorceress as she quickly constructed

a shield to protect her from the strike, but it was not at her that the attack was

aimed. A faint film of energy encircling the Xerkzes stone flared to life as the magic

struck, bending inward under the strength of the assault and piercing the stone

with a brilliant flash that sent shudders throughout the base of the tower.

Nyea released the talisman with a cry and Seth used the last of his strength

to hurl himself out of the open window toward the river below. A force like a

hammer hit him from behind as the keep broke out in a fury of wind and flame,

flinging him forward with unbelievable force. The breath was knocked from his body

as streamers of fire seared across his back and he was distantly aware of someone

screaming, though whether it was the sorceress or himself he did not know. Pain

flowed throughout his body, disappearing in a rush as he fell to the crushing depths

below.

* * * * *

Violent tremors rippled throughout the place where the sorceress stood as the

Xerkzes stone shattered in a brilliant flare of light. Nyea Aterre had but a moment

to lament before the shock wave knocked her from her feet and threw her down the

flight of stairs leading below. The barrier of magic that was already in place was all

that saved her from being crushed, but even so the violent concussions soon tore her

shield to shreds, and sharp bits of falling stone cut into her flesh as the fires of the

reaction scorched her skin.

The chamber above was a tornado of flame as she crawled on hands and

knees toward the edge of the ruins. She seemed to be impossibly far away from

what would take her back to the empire, each movement toward her objective

sending a fresh wave of pain through her body. She ducked down behind the edge of

a broken piece of rubble as a figure darted forward from out of the woods behind

her, riding bowed low over her saddle as she charged forward through the chaos

around her and towards the tower ahead. Foolish little wench! Nyea thought

spitefully, recognizing instantly the Venishian Keeper who was the source of so

much of her troubles. The girl was there for only a moment before she disappeared

into the line of trees that fronted the river banks. The sorceress had no doubt that

she had come here looking for the boy; if she herself had survived the explosion,

there was the unpleasant possibility that he had as well. I’ll kill both of the brats the

first chance I get. She swore silently, staying carefully hidden until the Keeper was

well out of sight. It would have given her great pleasure to put an end to the

troublesome girl right there and then, but she hadn’t the strength, and so it was

that she was forced to retreat and delay her retribution until a later time. They’ll

both of them die. I will end up the victor in this, no matter the cost!

She dragged herself forward toward the edge of the ruins, and fury and

hatred stronger than she had ever known were what gave her the strength to reach

a stone nestled at the border of the ancient city. She fought back against the

blackness blossoming around the corners of her vision, slumping against the ancient

construction with anger burning inside her like a raging inferno. She had been a

fool for not seeing what the boy planned to do, falling for his ploy and allowing the

Xerkzes stone to be destroyed. Three times now he had bested her! And now with

the help of his little Venishian friend he was about to escape her once again. She

grit her teeth. If he did not die here, there would be hell to pay for his actions! She

would make sure of it.

She ran her hand along the flawless obsidian that made up the pillar before

her, the smooth surface not showing any signs of the decay that had decimated the

rest of Sien’Sorte. She traced her finger around one of the many inscriptions lining

the base, the complex swirls that made up the rune flaring to life as her blood

coated the engraving. One of only a few that had endured through the ages, these

obelisks were the creation of her ancestors, instantly transporting the user to a

specific location miles away from where they had started. She had discovered the

stones from one of the denizens of the house of Lilith, the head of the telepaths

showing her all she needed to know about the ruins along with many other dark

secrets of the Nocturne. The woman had been one of her teachers a long time ago, a

proud instructor showing her pupil the knowledge that most were denied, but Nyea

had no value for the woman beyond what she had already learned. Her death had

been a great source of grief among the people, leading to the appointment of Rena

Desirey as head of the house, a poor choice that had come back to haunt them a few

years later. The whole incident had been yet another disaster that connected right

back to Silena, just like what had happened here today. The woman would never

cease to torment her, even from beyond the grave.

Nyea struggled to her knees, raising her hands and opening the gateway.

Threads of energy coalesced into the crooked image of a door, displaying torchlit

corridors crafted of black stone, the grim crimson tapestries naming it

unmistakably as the corridors beneath the palace in the Lands of Night.

Nyea dragged herself forward through the doorway, her strength leaving her

in a rush as she reached the portal. A flood of icy cold filled her as she entered the

gate, gone a moment later as the portal closed shut behind her. She slumped

against the dust coated wall, weariness and pain making it impossible to move

another inch without rest.

She closed her eyes. That the stone had been destroyed was irrelevant. She

would have to deal with Voren sooner or later, but the boy would remain her secret

until the moment he died. This was not over, and she would not relent until she had

her revenge.

She hummed softly to herself as she drifted off to sleep, murderous thoughts

of blood and pain filling her vision.

* * * * *

Here ends book one of Realm of Night.

The story continues in book two, Building Darkness