

ELYSIA

By

C.C. Francis

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, incidents, etc. appearing herein are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or things is coincidence. Nothing more.

Copyright © 2018 C.C. Francis. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form without express, prior written permission of the author.

Cover Image by Daniel Páscoa via Unsplash: https://unsplash.com/@dpascoa

Thank you for taking the time to read. I hope you enjoy.

www.ccfrancisbooks.com

www.instagram.com/ccfrancisbooks

ISBN-13 (Paperback): 9781797918471

ASIN (Kindle): B07P3T9PY8

Legend tells that the corgi is descended from ancient creatures of the forgotten woods.

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For Tara

"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams."

Eleanor Roosevelt

# Prologue - The Crystal Spire

This dawn brought more than a fiery sunrise.

A vivid orange sun crested the crystalline skyline. Willows turned amber in the courtyard so far below. Morning dew shimmered through crisp air. Young sunlight caught parks and meadows over the city's beating heart. Towers of teal and chrome shot into the sky, grazing waterfalls all around. A scarlet dawn lit up the Western Sea across the horizon.

Anaia couldn't remember the dream, but she felt a quiet dread in the back of her mind. She looked out from the tower across the city. The capital was coming to life. It was quiet. There was no reason to think anything was wrong. Still, Anaia couldn't shake this feeling. And she had learned to trust her instincts.

She threw open the oak door of her room and took the marble steps outside two-by-two. In moments, she'd reached the top of the tallest spire in Elysia.

It wasn't hard for Anaia to believe the children's stories about this place. This was somewhere most people never saw with their own eyes. The tower's apex gleamed with the light of the stained glass. Blue and silver sunlight carved the room into transfixing spiral arcs. Silver willows lined a dark-blue carpet to the center of the tower, and a solitary marble throne.

Anaia approached in silence. Attendants recognized her, offering solemn salutes and moving away.

The woman on the throne was a shadow. A husk. Wrinkled. Deformed. Her facial features bore a warped resemblance to Anaia's charge. The piercing blue eyes were the same. But that was it.

Anaia's heart skipped a beat. It was the Sovereign.

She looked so old. The Sovereign had three millennia behind her, but her physical form never changed. She should have looked younger than her guard. This woman could have passed for ninety, even a hundred.

The Sovereign was more than Anaia's responsibility. She was her best friend. Her confidante. Her teacher. Her conversation partner. Her slice of history, passed down through time. Of all the guards in the ancient books, she was sure she'd come the closest to knowing who this mythical figure was. But right now, she wondered whether she might be the last of the guards, too.

Anaia hardly recognized the still figure hunched over the marble. This was a stranger.

"The Stone." She called out quietly. "You've taken it off."

The Sovereign nodded.

"As a good friend recently reminded me, change is the only constant."

Anaia stared in disbelief. "I can't do this alone."

"We've done nothing for long enough."

The Sovereign beckoned Anaia over to her, took her by the hand with a weak smile, and whispered a few quick words in her ear.

By the time Anaia stood, a hushed silence gripped the air. The Sovereign's eyes were open, but she was gone.

The room was still.

"No one hears about this." Anaia's voice was thick as she started back. "I'll have some answers in a few weeks. If we're all still here."

Part 1 - Ascamore

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# Chapter 1 - A Strange Letter

A rich morning sun escaped the mountain pass and rose over the glassy lake.

Will Darkwood sat on one of the roots of the ancient oak in his yard, an old leather-bound map in hand. The quiet harmony of a vibrant morning birdsong rose over a soft breeze.

Will paid no heed to the misty sunrise, or to the language of color echoing off the water. Like so many mornings before, his attention was focused on the cracked old pages of the map. Its corners were ripped, its writing faded to a dusky orange. But when Will opened the bindings of this document, he was a part of something. There weren't many such pages left anymore. Not in Haven.

"I take solace in the fact that old rotten thing won't be legible for much longer."

Lewis Layweather, Will's lifelong friend and Haven's town mailman, walked down the garden path behind. Lewis was a portly young man—in his late twenties, just like Will. He dressed simply. They both did. Lewis had a full head of curly auburn hair, which came down to the very bottom of his forehead. He never combed it. His eyes were a deep, dark cinnamon. His skin was the shade of fine cherry wood, and his thick, black eyebrows nearly met in the middle.

"Old things have a place too." Will replied, craning his neck to get a better look at his best friend. "Don't overlook them."

Will was taller and thinner than Lewis, but not much more athletic. His hair was a dark, sandy blonde—and a tad longer. He did comb it in the mornings, but it was unruly and always ended up getting away from him by midday. His skin was tan, set by days out by the lake. He had lively eyes, the same turquoise hue as the lake water. A curious energy about him tended to be the first thing others noticed.

"That's good." Lewis said. "Because if you spend too much more of your life staring at that stuff, you'll be as wrinkled as that map."

"We can't all be postmen, can we? Town isn't big enough." Will gestured to an empty space on the tree root to his side. "And don't stand there giving me that look." He looked down with a smile, reaching to his side. A kettle rested there, heated by candle, along with a worn wooden stool at knee height and two china teacups.

"Don't mind if I do." Lewis replied. "What have you got for me?"

"Green jasmine, with a hint of chamomile." Will grinned, anticipating his friend's reaction.

Lewis made a horrible grimace, as if he had come upon a dreadful smell.

"Don't start. You'll like it." Will said softly.

"Whatever you say." Lewis took a tepid sip. "Yep. Tastes like dirt." He grumbled, waited a moment, then took another sip when Will turned his attention to the lake.

"Don't you ever wonder where we came from?" Will asked. "Where we are?"

"We're in Haven. That's where we came from." Lewis stared at the tea with a pensive look in his eye. "You never stop with these questions."

"You've never thought to leave? To see what's out there?" Will asked.

"Well, you've seen the lake." Lewis pointed beyond. "There are the foothills. The mountains. You're a hard man to please."

"You know what I mean. Out there, out there. Haven't you ever wanted to just go away for a while, beyond the peaks?" Will asked.

"No."

Will could hardly argue. Haven nestled itself between rolling hills and picturesque peaks, covered in lush oaks and pines. Haven Lake was deep-blue, never froze over, and provided more food than the people could ever need, together with easy access to trade from the mountains via canal.

"No one leaves Haven. We have what we want." Lewis said. Looking down at the tea, he added, "even some things we might not." After a few seconds of quiet, he continued softly. "I hear things. Things those stupid maps don't tell you. No. We have it good here."

Lewis paused.

"Oh, before I forget, I have something for you." He reached into his small mail bag and handed Will an envelope. It was heavy, its paper thick.

Lewis noted the look of surprise on his friend's face.

"Just the mailman. Don't ask me."

The envelope was white, its paper undisturbed. It had not a single crease, despite Lewis' usual less-than-ideal habits as a postman. It bore a perfect calligraphy:

W. Darkwood

1 Old Oak Lane

Haven, Ascamore

Valis

There was no return address.

"What is this?" Will's eyes were wide. He recognized Ascamore from the map as the region surrounding Haven. "What's 'Valis?' "

"You're asking me." Lewis replied, eyes wide. Then he looked up. "I expect we're still on for tonight?"

"Sure." Will responded absentmindedly, without looking up.

"The Drake's got in some more of that stout from the mountain." Lewis said.

"Hello... Still here." Lewis continued, waving his arms after noticing that he had again lost Will's gaze. "It's your favorite."

"I'll be there." Will did not take his eye off the script.

Lewis shook his head. He stood up, put the half-empty tea on the stool by the kettle, and turned back up the path, leaving Will in solitude at the lake's edge.

"Five o'clock!" Lewis called out jovially behind. In another moment, he had passed out of sight.

As soon as he was sure Lewis was gone, Will turned the letter around and began cutting the seam. It was rough going. This paper was not made for cutting implements as dull as Will's rusted, hand-me-down pocketknife.

An ornate pendant fell into his hand.

It had a blue gem in the center, nearly four inches across. There was nothing else in the envelope—no card, no writing to give it context. The stone was clear and deep blue. A weightless chain of pure white surrounded and bound it. It was warm to the touch, despite the cool morning breeze.

Will held the gem up in his hands.

He searched for a way to unclasp the chain, but didn't find it. Instead, it unclasped itself as the idea came to him. He shrugged. Pulling the two ends together around his neck, he felt them fuse.

He looked down. The gem's glow rose to a blinding light. It reflected back at him from the leaves on the ground, the trees, even the quiet, glassy lake some twenty feet away.

He remembered nothing more.

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#  Chapter 2 –

# An Unexpected Guest

Will was having trouble reconciling the place of the sun in the sky with his usual mid-morning nap. It was now nearly suppertime.

His tea had long since cooled, but that didn't stop him from finishing the contents of the kettle and both cups before heading back.

His home was less a house than it was a cottage. But it was a grand cottage. Serene and snug. Simple, but spacious. Homely and comfortable. So many trees and vines covered the outside that it could hardly be made out from the road. Those who didn't know where it was always had trouble finding it.

With the ease of long practice, Will pulled open the oblong back door without putting anything down. He deposited everything into the kitchen, lit the candle lamps in the living room, threw some wood in the fireplace, and kindled a fire. Within a few minutes, he had cooked himself supper.

Then he remembered the gem.

He reached down to take it off. He pulled at the chain, gently at first. It wouldn't budge. He tried pulling it off over his head. But though it hung low on his neck, suddenly there wasn't enough chain to pull. It was acting against him, refusing to be taken off.

He pulled harder. This only hurt him. The more he pulled, the more the chain pulled back. In a few seconds, he was getting dizzy... having trouble breathing. He had to let go. Whatever this thing was, it had him.

Panic gripped Will. He couldn't catch his breath. Sweat poured off of him. Only one thought found a home in his mind, and that was getting this thing off his neck.

He darted to the kitchen. In moments he had opened a drawer and pulled out his grandfather's old pair of scissors. These looked more like a couple of rusty daggers laced together than a legitimate cutting implement. But unlike his pocketknife, he kept them sharp.

Will held the scissors up to his neck, slipped the chain down to the fulcrum, and pulled the handles together as hard as he could.

What happened next he couldn't quite explain.

A deep rumbling emanated throughout the cottage. Dishes and silverware fell out of cabinets. Books loosed themselves from his shelves. Several of his chairs fell over.

The scissors were gone, launched into pieces across the room. One of the halves had lodged itself in the rafter above his head. The other... well, he wasn't sure where it was.

Will looked down. The stone was still there. Untouched. Unscathed.

All of a sudden, there came a thunderous crash at the front door to his home. Where the beautiful green door had been a moment before, now there was a gaping hole, studded by great splinters of ruined wood. The door was destroyed. Pieces of it now decorated his living room by the hundreds.

In the door frame stood a woman, framed by flowing white robes and a curved sword with a shining white hilt.

"Where!?" Her voice was fire and wrath.

The first thing Will saw were the ferocious jade-green eyes. With her olive skin, lean build, and dark hair, she took the room immediately.

"Answer me, William." Her eyes bore into him with furious intensity.

Will stood back in stunned silence, too taken aback to say more. The cacophony of door shrapnel strewn across his living room made it difficult to find courage in that particular moment.

She scoffed, leaving him behind and darting from one window to the next.

"What are you..." Will began.

"Where did he go? What happened here?" The woman repeated.

"I don't..."

"I know you know what I'm talking about. I heard the commotion." She cut him off. "He was here."

She looked down, then smiled broadly.

"No..." She said softly.

The other piece of Will's grandfather's pair of scissors was under her left foot.

Silently and with a look of acute weariness, she lowered and sheathed the sword. She walked across the room, dodging pieces of shrapnel across the floor, and sat down on one of Will's more comfortable chairs.

"You tried to cut Highcraft with scissors." She shook her head. "Yeah. I had a feeling this was going to be a long day."

"Who... who are you?" Will's voice was so quiet.

"You haven't any idea." She said, matter-of-factly. "It's just a necklace to you."

He stood in the middle of the room, staring blankly.

"Tell me." She said, face buried in her palm. "You receive a strange letter with no return address. Inside is a pendant covered in a language you can't read, burning in blue light like fire, chain moving of its own accord. And you just... put it on? Sound about right?"

Will couldn't be sure, but he thought he nodded involuntarily.

She chuckled. "I like you. Well, by now you know you can't take it off."

Will breathed a quiet sigh.

"What is it?"

"You're wearing the Elysian Arcstone around your neck." She said. "The Sovereign Stone."

"Elysia... as in the capital, Elysia?"

"Yes. Very good. You got there all on your own. It belonged to the Sovereign."

"The who?" He stared blankly.

"No. No, no, no." She shook her head. "You're serious, aren't you?"

Will stared.

"Just how sheltered is this place?"

Will just shook his head.

"That Stone you're wearing has preserved a global peace for generations. And it's bound to you now. You can't take it off. You are the Sovereign now. Are you getting this? There's no going back."

Will was silent for a good ten seconds.

"What?" He asked dully.

A monstrous blue flame erupted into her hand, jumped into the other, then twirled about her head before extinguishing itself.

Will reflexively knocked over a stool.

"Pack your things."

He paused. "Now hold on a minute. I have a life here."

"Yes, yes. You drink tea. How nice."

"And read." He added, annoyed. "Point is, I can't just leave with you and become some... some... magician." He floundered, struggling for the right word.

She smiled.

"Might have thought of that before you started touching things you don't understand."

She walked him back through the living room, blowing out candles as she went.

"I'm not the only one following the rumors. We're can't stay here any longer."

"I don't even know your name."

"Anaia. Sovereign Guard. We have a week's trip ahead, and you have five minutes to pack. If I can find you, so can the Legion."

"The wha...?" Will replied with a stutter.

"Pack your things." Anaia repeated calmly and firmly, watching from the foyer. "I know what's hunting you. You'll like me better."

"I'd have thought you'd be eager to go with her," said a quiet voice.

Anaia had her sword drawn in an instant.

"What?" Lewis said in reaction to the look on Will's face. "You've gone on about the outside world for years. Hovered over that dusty old map to the point you barely talk to me. Now, this... and you want to stay?"

Lewis stared at Anaia, and the imposing blade in her hand. "Yes, hello. You can put that down now. Name's Lewis. I'm the postman." He looked back at Will. "Came to check when you weren't at the Drake."

"I must be slipping." Anaia sheathed the blade, cracking a wry smile. "The Arunites I can detect twenty yards off, but the Haven town mailman? No, I can't hear him."

"Well, we Havenfolk aren't all useless bumpkins, are we, Will?" Lewis grinned back.

"He's practiced at slipping about." Will admitted in a low grumble. "That's a good thing. If I'm going, you're going, Lewis."

"I might have known you would say something like that." Lewis scowled. "Ever since your parents disappeared, it's been one thing after another. And it's always me looking out for you, isn't it?"

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Will asked.

"You know what I'm talking about." Lewis said with a quiet frown.

Anaia stared.

"Enough." She smiled at Lewis. "Are you coming, or not?"

The slightest hint of a gleam appeared in his friend's eye.

"Pack for two before I change my mind." Lewis grumbled in indignation a little too dramatic to believe.

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# Chapter 3 - The World Awaits

When they emerged into the brisk dusky air, the lavender twilight was losing its light in the mountains to the west. Will pulled a pockmarked bronze key out of his breast pocket.

"Guess I won't be needing this now." Will grinned darkly.

"Now." Anaia couldn't take her eyes off the road behind. Something was bothering her.

Will and Lewis stared for a quiet moment, intimidated by her intensity. She turned, starting off down the path in silence. The Haveners followed without a word.

Their path started at the same rocky, cobbled road that Lewis took to deliver mail every day. At first, the oaks, yews, and ashes that shot up on either side were well-manicured saplings. Their leaves swayed in the twilight breeze, filling the air with sound.

But within a few short minutes, their path changed. They found themselves in the middle of a forest. Despite Lewis' brags about his hiking adventures, it was seldom that anyone from Haven wandered this far from town—and never alone. Great pines and oaks several dozen feet high shot up to each side. Will struggled to make out the tops of the trees, or even the sky above. A murky darkness overcame them. Silence lingered here. Even the wind was hushed. Only the occasional owl call pierced the evening air.

The twilight sun lost itself in the canopy. Blackness fell.

Anaia raised her arm and opened her palm. An orb of light appeared there. Like a miniature star, it lit the forest with a pale glow—soft, but bright. The three could see the path as clearly as though it were late afternoon again.

"What..." Lewis uttered under his breath.

He and Will locked eyes.

"Did you hear something?" Lewis asked suddenly.

Will looked back. Despite the newfound light, he couldn't see anything behind. But Lewis was right. There was movement back there. Something was rustling the trees. Something other than the soft breeze.

"We're almost there. Keep up, and keep quiet." Anaia's tone was sharp. Staccato.

"What is it?" Will asked, noticing tension in her voice.

"Two hundred paces back, and gaining." She replied without looking back.

Will looked back again. The trees swayed dramatically now. The sounds grew louder. More distinct. Sharp, heavy breathing, and a rapid movement through the branches. Something was bearing down on them with a relentless pace.

"Well, what are you doing with the light then?" Lewis called out.

"I choose who sees it." She was surprisingly calm. "Don't panic. We'll get there. Focus on the path beneath your feet."

Their pace quickened to a sprint. The slope was relentless. Will felt his pack dig into his shoulder blades. Lewis' breathing grew more desperate. He lost his footing more than once. Each time, Will reached back to catch him. Still, Anaia bounded forward at every turn, darted through every upward curve. The pressure built in Will's chest.

Lewis' foot caught a rock, and he fell to the ground with a dull scream.

Their pursuer wouldn't let up. It couldn't have been more than fifty yards behind, gaining rapidly. They had seconds left.

"I can't." Lewis panted.

Anaia grabbed his shirt and tore it straight across the front it in a vain attempt to pull him to his feet. Lewis fell right back to the ground, struggling to catch his breath.

"This day just keeps getting better." She whispered to herself. "Get him up the mountain."

"You're not coming with us?" Will asked.

"Couldn't say."

Anaia leapt behind into the darkness. Her light passed from sight, submerging them into the black.

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# Chapter 4 - Doorway of Light

Lewis suppressed a grimace as he climbed to his feet, narrowly avoiding a second fall.

Will stayed with Lewis for a quiet moment as he caught his breath. At first, only the wind whistling through the trees and Lewis' panting breached the quiet night air.

The view was spectacular. The lake's glassy surface reflected both moons and the distant lights of Haven in perfect clarity.

Then, the sky shattered. The earth trembled. Bursts of multi-colored fire shot upward in all directions and just as quickly extinguished themselves. Blue lightning arced up into the starry night. Waves of flame and crashes of ice descended onto the landscape, wiping out trees by the hundreds. Heat singed Will's skin.

Will pulled Lewis forward. It took them what seemed like mere moments to reach the rocky, vertical face of the mountain. All the while, more fury echoed into the atmosphere. The valley erupted in fiery blue light with a roar like rolling thunder.

The sheer rock of the mountain extended up into the night's mist. As the two approached, curved lines of light appeared on the rock to either side, shimmering in the darkness. They grew more intricate, erupting into a spiral pattern that formed a door, circular in form and about ten feet in height.

Lewis tried pushing against it. But it was solid.

"I've seen this before." Will said quietly, thumbing through the old pages of the map.

A brief, brilliant flash erupted behind. The sound that followed hurt Will's ears, echoing across the mountain walls, and even the distant opposite side of Haven Valley.

"What do you suppose that was?" Lewis' voice shook.

"I don't know." Will replied quietly, still digging through the papers.

"Hope she's okay." Lewis replied.

"Don't know about you, but I got the impression she can take care of herself." Will sighed in frustration. "I can't find anything. I know I remember something about this door."

"Look at the spirals. They form a pattern," Lewis said. "I wonder if these move." He slid his hand along the edge of the light.

The pattern shifted on the rock along with Lewis' finger.

"Could it be so simple?" Lewis aligned the outside pattern so that the gap was at the top, then did the same for the inner four layers. The gap aligned at the top for each.

Nothing happened.

"No, I think it's a combination lock." Will said softly, eyes still glued to the pages.

"Well, whatever was happening back there is over now. We need to get this door open." Lewis said, looking back and listening intently for any sign of rustling in the trees.

Silence had fallen. Not even crickets dared break it.

"Look at this." Will pointed to a wrinkled old page, turned an off shade of amber by time. It depicted a series of dots connected by lines, with a representation of a mountain overlaid on top of it. "The five cities beneath the mountain." He read from the journal.

"Five cities?" Lewis replied. "That doesn't even make sense."

Still, Lewis looked down at the drawing and quickly aligned the patterns to correspond with the dots in the journal.

The cliffside shuddered. The doorway split into two and began to slide open to each side. They saw only blackness beyond.

"Too late."

A vague shadow coalesced through the moonlit darkness behind.

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# Chapter 5 - Khel

A narrow mist swirled up and down the chasm, and a man materialized in front of them.

He had the look of one who had been traveling for most of his life. Dirt-smudged, unshaven, with long black hair down to his chin, he wore tattered dark robes and a billowing charcoal coat down to his ankles. The steely olive-green eyes and devious grin made it clear he was used to getting what he wanted. Though thin to the point of emaciation, he towered over Will and Lewis, with broad shoulders.

"Darkwood, I presume." He said, bellicose and contented. "Pleasure."

The traveler had an odd way of speaking. His voice was deep and rough, yet sophisticated in its inflections.

He stepped forward.

Will and Lewis backed away, each shooting a quick, frightened glance to the other. Will felt his heart pumping in his chest, heard it in his ears.

Will had no idea what to do.

"You have me at a disadvantage, Mister..." Will tried to buy time.

"Correct."

The man put up his hand. Lewis hurled up against the nearby rock wall as though flung by an invisible force. A terrible cracking sound erupted as he impacted the mountainside.

"It's pointless lying." The man growled, displaying a soft grin. "I know you're wearing it. You'll be coming with me."

"Where's Anaia?" Will's voice trembled.

"Indisposed." The man grinned back colorfully. "I could snap his neck like a twig, but I'd prefer not to travel with an insufferable grinch. Up to you, really."

"Will..." Lewis called out softly.

"Ah, ahh..." The man said. Lewis' mouth shut mid-sentence.

Will kept quiet. No words came to mind.

"I can think of other ways of motivating you. They will be unpleasant, for you—and especially, I think, for your friend. I don't have to kill him. We could just... stay here a while together." The man smiled, looking over to Lewis again.

Lewis began to howl in agony.

It was a terrible sound that pierced the foggy night air, echoing down the canyon walls. He screamed until he was out of breath, then he screamed again. Tears streamed down his face.

"Okay, okay..." Will shouted.

A curious expression appeared on the man's face. Lewis fell off the wall and landed in a crumpled heap.

"Off we go then." He said jovially, turning away. "That wasn't so hard."

There came a crack like thunder. The man, who had been standing not two feet in front of Will, launched into the rock wall just beside Lewis. The force threw up gusts of wind in every direction, blowing Will off his feet.

Will looked up to see the stranger transformed into a ruined carcass—skull crushed, neck snapped, eyes drooping. Blood poured out of his mouth onto the elaborate light patterns on the rock face.

"Inside." Anaia stormed up behind.

Her face was coated in blood and dirt. Her arms were cut deeply in several places, impaled by sharp objects. She had severe burns along her neck and shoulder. She walked to Lewis, pulling him to his feet and carrying him along.

"You do not want to be here when that thing wakes up."

"Where did you even come from?" Lewis mumbled, confused.

"What 'thing'?" Will asked. "What are you talking about? He's dead."

"If only..."

She pushed the two of them into the mountain. The doors closed behind with an ominous crash.

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# Chapter 6 - Into the Depths

"What just happened?" Lewis' voice was soft and weak.

The light patterns on the floor of the cave formed runes, emanating outward in a spiral from the center of the room. By their dim white light, Will could see water dripping. Despite the grand door and the smooth hewn stone floor, stalactites hung from the ceiling. Deep green moss grew all around.

"That was Khel." Anaia said simply. Somehow, even in the light of the cavern, the stabs and burn wounds on her arms looked smaller already.

"What, that's his name?" Lewis asked.

She nodded.

"And how, exactly, did he crush me into a wall without touching me?" Lewis asked with eyes wide.

"He... it is my counterpart." Anaia replied quietly.

"Is that supposed to mean something to us?" Will replied.

"I keep forgetting where you come from."

Silence.

"Well? Care to explain?" Lewis sounded vexed.

Anaia stepped forward in silence.

"Where are you going?" Lewis raised his voice.

She touched a dial in the center of the room. The ground opened up, moving around the light patterns. Turning.

Intricate guardrails opened up out of the stone. Will and Lewis hurried to avoid them.

"You might want to hold onto those." Anaia said softly.

Will and Lewis looked to each other, not taking her meaning.

"They're not there for show." She grabbed hold.

The floor dropped out from under them.

Lewis found time to take hold of a rail. The same could not be said for Will. He lost his footing as it tumbled downward.

The two Haveners had never encountered a lift, or any mechanical contraption more complex than those used to navigate a boat around a lake, or ale around a tavern. Something like this had never entered their imaginations. For that reason, it took Will a moment or two to realize what was happening—that he wasn't actually falling.

It felt like a fall. The unsettling darkness struck him too, once he came to his senses and got back to his feet. Cold, wet air rushed past his face in the dark. Will's hair raised off his head. The pit of his stomach dropped as tunnels rushed diagonally down in unpredictable patterns.

"Look." Will said softly, tapping his friend on the shoulder.

Lewis recoiled from the edge of the lift.

One of the rock walls had disappeared, giving way to a sheer drop just a few feet to the side.

A vast cavern had appeared below. It must have been miles across. The air was so thick and misty, they could barely see to the other side. The cavern was too perfect to have been a natural formation. It formed a half-sphere.

At its base was a city of pristine white stone, set upon lush green hills and full of trees of every color. Whole forests found a home in here. So did meadows, rivers, lakes, streams—even waterfalls. Pristinely manicured oaks, willows, pines, ashes, and maples sprang up everywhere. The city carried a greenish-blue tint, illuminated through the mist by curving light posts. A cool, silvery blue shadow danced on the cavern's ceiling. From far away, it looked like moonlight on water.

Flocks of white birds appeared, flying to and fro between the trees. Every so often, platforms of white stone rose within the meadows. Buried among the tallest of the trees, the white stone danced in the shimmering teal glow. Elaborate mansions and manor houses were spaced out regularly—each making liberal use of curves, mimicking the surrounding flora.

"Right in our backyard, too." Will said softly, turning to Lewis.

"Illuar is on your map." Anaia grinned.

"But the mountainfolk. They never let on that there were so... many of them."

"Yes, well, they're like that." Anaia offered.

"This is where the mountainfolk come from?" Lewis' voice rose. "Those guys who never pay asking price for anything in the town market? Never—as in, not even once? They once bartered for my grandmother's crochet blanket. It was ten credits. Wouldn't give me more than three. And they live in this place?"

"Why do you think they don't let on?" Will smiled.

"I thought they lived in a little village, full of tiny huts in the snow." Lewis grumbled.

"They don't all live here." Anaia added with a sly smile. "This is the Top City. Wait until you see what's below."

The lift came to a stop on a stone platform. On the way to the town in the distance, they passed hundreds of beautiful homes with immaculate landscaping, spread out on great estates—complete with forests, rivers, lakes, meadows. No two were ever the same.

Will thought he recognized a face or two from trade in Haven. But these same rough "mountainfolk" with their great beards and dirty, ragged clothes he'd seen bartering for artisans' trinkets in the Haven town market were now clean-shaven, dressed in beautifully tailored outfits.

"Illuar is home to the wealthiest in Valis." Anaia said in response to quizzical looks from the other two. "Always has been."

"Unbelievable." Lewis hissed.

Will patted his friend on the back.

The road straightened into a stairway, leading to a raised open building in the center of the city.

"Here we are." Anaia said quietly, more to herself than to the others.

Will and Lewis looked to her, eyes wide.

"Here we are... where?" Lewis asked in a low tone.

At the bottom of the stairway, guards crossed curved ceremonial blades in front of them.

"We're to see the Chairman on matters of state." Anaia announced.

"Name and rank?" The guard on the right said, looking bored.

Anaia glared.

"This is the Sovereign of Elysia." She pointed to Will.

Will's heart skipped a beat. He grew lightheaded.

Both guards stood straight up, shooting uneasy looks to one another. After a moment, they uncrossed their swords.

"The Chairman will be waiting for you."

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# Chapter 7 - The Chairman

"What are you thinking?" Will asked Anaia, voice rising involuntarily.

She shrugged with a grin, bounding ahead.

"Anaia." He called after her. "Do you want to fill me in on the plan?"

"No plan." Anaia replied steadily. "You put on the Stone. Deal with it."

"Wha... what? I put on a necklace that came in the mail. I'm not the 'Sovereign.' "

"That's for sure." She grumbled without turning back. "Just let me do the talking."

The platform at the end of the stairs was a hundred paces from one side to the other. Trees appeared around the edges by the dozens: amber aspens, jade pines, and emerald ashes and oaks. Those around the outer edges obscured their canopies in the mists above. Bridges connected the structure with surrounding ones, presumably other government buildings. But this was clearly the most important. It struck Will that there was no need for roofs, given that the entire city was inside.

An oblong table of white stone was the centerpiece. A single, commanding seat was set apart from several others at the middle.

"Well?" A solitary, solemn figure smiled darkly at Anaia. He was older, with close-cropped grey hair—lean and graceful, despite obvious age.

Ten seconds passed. The two stared at one another. Just as Will opened his mouth, she spoke up.

"The Sovereign is dead."

More silence.

"And I was having a good evening, too."

He looked to Will, then shook his head.

"World had to end sometime."

"We need time." Anaia replied.

"Time..." The Chairman lowered his eyes. "Of course you do. You came here looking for shelter."

Anaia looked down briefly.

"Just for a night."

"Haven is ten miles from here, and you want shelter." The Chairman smiled knowingly. "Who is it? Who's after you?"

Another pause.

"Please, Anaia. No games. The Arcstone in a place like Haven? I'm not stupid."

"Khel." She said under her breath.

"Oh this just gets better. It's already over. They know."

"I dealt with him. For now."

The Chairman leaned forward and buried his head in his palms.

"We're a day from the border. Do you know what will happen here when word of this gets out?"

"We don't know word will get out." Anaia replied.

"I have a family to think of." The Chairman's eyes blazed. "Kids."

"One night." Anaia spoke slowly. "We'll be out by morning. This place is part of Valis." She gestured to Will. "This is the Sovereign."

"You're not getting this, Anaia." The Chairman leaned back now, shaking his head. "You're asking me to go home tonight and say goodbye to my children. If you're caught, I won't wake up tomorrow."

"What?" She asked quietly.

"You've never been to Illuar before, have you?" He asked.

More silence.

"This is the crossroads of two civilizations." He gestured to the city. "The order you see hangs on the slenderest of threads. You tell me those threads are cut, and you want the evidence here. Under our noses."

"If you do nothing, this war could be over before it starts." Anaia insisted.

"From the look of things, it already is."

"You done?" Anaia hissed.

"One night." The Chairman snapped, rising to his feet and turning away. "You were never here."

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# Chapter 8 - The Core

Will's stomach lurched as a second lift plunged downward. This time, he grabbed the handrails.

"Trying not to think about what I just heard." Will grumbled.

"Just keep your head down." Anaia hissed. "And cover up that stone." She buttoned up his shirt.

Another cavern came into view. This one looked like it was made of light.

Thousands of structures filled it to the brim in a three-dimensional complex of stone and metal. Curved bridges connected everything. Each had trees of amber and green, elaborate lights of teal, and swirling fountains. Even at this late hour, Will could make out bustling markets with shops, gathering places, bars, and restaurants—all packed full of people. The city must have had hundreds of levels.

The cave's outer edge glowed. The whole place felt alive—even the distant rock walls. He'd never seen so many people in one place. It was beautiful, in its own way. It was all so bright. Even through the glass walls of the lift, Will could hear the voices, feel the crowds. This was a place of commerce. He felt small. Oddly, there was something comforting about that.

When the lift came to a stop, they exited into a constant stream of movement. A set of stairs led down to a row of tented market stalls, extending to the opposite side of the cavern. Bridges crisscrossed overhead, but all roads led here—to this great street.

"The Core City." Anaia announced as they came to a stop at the edge of the stairs. "Economic hub of Eastern Valis."

"Oh, yes. The humble abode of the lowly mountain folk." Lewis grumbled. "Lovely. Wonder what Nana's crochet would run me in one of these stalls."

Everyone was pushed, shoved, and jostled every which way. No one cared. This was as much a part of life here as the crowds themselves.

As they moved forward, out into the Bazaar, the frenzy and commotion brought forth a strange boldness inside them. Will found it easier than he would have thought to break forward into the crowd. The experience was exactly what it looked like—exactly what he hoped it wouldn't be.

Back home, everyone had a certain unspoken idea of the space to give others. It was just a feature of polite society. Here, any such thought was absent. A few times, Will was sure he'd lost his companions. But Will always managed to find Lewis and Anaia a short while later—or rather, their heads bobbing up and down in the crowd as they were struck repeatedly by waves of traders seeking a quick way around the wayward strangers.

The sound of metal on metal soon joined the chorus of voices. In one stall, various meats and vegetables soared through the air, then landed on a large grill. Beef and poultry sizzled, together with peppers and onions of all different varieties. There was a little bit of everything here. Will couldn't even recognize it all.

Three cooks manned a fiery contraption, each with a belly larger than the last, tossing ingredients flamboyantly through the air in front of an ever-growing crowd of onlookers. Each throw landed with impressive accuracy.

Eventually, the cook in the middle spun out a dozen or so sheets of unleavened bread on the grill. In a display of impossible precision, he flung the mix of grilled vegetables and meats into the air all at once, managing to land the mix directly on top of each piece.

The crowd erupted into applause and raucous laughter.

Then that cook caught Will's eye. He stared at him through the crowd for a second, then another. A shiver ran down Will's spine.

"We need to leave." Anaia said quietly, backing away.

In moments, Anaia had led them out of the market and into a nearby building.

A short lift ride took them to the top of the cavern. The three crossed a disused bridge to a secluded home. Will felt the pit of his stomach sway as he saw how far down they had to fall.

Anaia opened the front door, and they stepped inside.

The room wrapped all the way around the circular structure, with tinted glass making up the outside of the space. The furniture and decor was lavish, mostly white and blue in color. It was beautifully laid out, perfectly arranged.

The three continued through the kitchen to a living area that offered panoramic views of the city.

"Will, you may want to take a seat."

"Uh oh." Lewis grumbled.

Will did as he was told, sitting on one of the white sofas. Lewis sat beside, with Anaia facing the two of them.

"Take out that map of yours."

Will pulled out the same map he had been so eagerly examining that morning. He was not so eager now.

Anaia pointed to a dark space that covered the map's entire right side, leaving no descriptions or identifying information. The darkened space wasn't another ocean, as it wasn't shaded in the same color as the other seas. Its border was a bizarre, snaking line.

"This is fear." Anaia said quietly. "This is what it does. Take a good look."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Will shifted in his seat.

"The dark space is called Aru." She continued. "Khel is from Aru."

"Nice place?" Will half-grinned.

Anaia didn't smile back.

"Aru is what the Sovereign has kept at bay for three thousand years. Think legions of professional soldiers led by an immortal of unspeakable power who moves mountains, controls the weather, and turns armies to dust."

The blood drained from Will's face. He felt sick.

"As soon as Aru finds out the Sovereign is gone, this country will be ripped to shreds. The bloodbath will begin, and it will not end. Our only hope is that Stone around your neck... the one you can't take off."

Will let out a low groan.

"Stay with me, buddy." Lewis kicked a trash can in front of his friend as Will leaned forward precipitously.

"Don't lose hope." Anaia stood up from the table and walked to the window, staring out at the city. "Nothing is certain in this life. The spies we send to Aru never come back."

"Will can't kill fish." Lewis scoffed. "He throws them back."

"Okay, I need some time with Will." Anaia said. "Lewis..."

"Sheesh." Lewis grumbled. "Say no more. Sure glad I came on this trip."

In a few moments, he was gone.

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# Chapter 9 - First Steps

As soon as Lewis had passed from sight, Anaia walked to the window.

Will followed, standing beside her.

"What is it?"

There was no warning.

She turned on Will, pushing him away violently without touching him. He flew straight back, then collapsed to the ground on the other side of the room. The impact sent him rolling on the tiled floor.

She moved her hands back, then in a single motion threw them forward towards him. Blue fire cracked out of her hands. He put up his own hands reflexively.

Somehow, the flames moved around, tapering off behind.

"Are you out of your mind!?" He screamed.

She stopped.

"Seeing how far you've progressed." She turned back towards the window. "We don't have a lot of time."

"And if I hadn't... progressed far enough?"

"Why do you think Khel didn't kill you and take the Stone for himself? I needed to see how close the fire came."

"You couldn't have let me know first?"

"No. Would have defeated the purpose."

Will wasn't quite sure whether he believed her.

"You haven't displayed the slightest hint of talent since putting that on. We can't stay here. It's only a matter of time before these people try to kill us."

"Why me?" Will asked. "Why send this thing to me in the first place? I didn't want any part of this."

"You think I know?" She grumbled. "You didn't even know what it was. I doubt you would have put it on if you had."

"Maybe that was the point."

"You know, that may be the first sensible thing I've heard out of you." She grinned. "Listen up. There are rules to this."

"This?" Will asked.

"Magic. The Arcane. Elysia has half a dozen schools. People spend years studying just for a chance to get in."

"Alright." He sat down and leaned back on the sofa.

"No." She ordered, throwing a ball of fire at his head. "Stand up."

"Wow." He was on his feet in a second.

"Lesson one. This is the most important lesson. Pay attention if you'd like to keep your sanity." She stepped forward. "Know your limits. Surpass them, and there will be costs."

"What does that mean?" Will asked.

"Know the borders of your mind. Breach them, use too much magic in too short a time, try something you're not ready for... you may never be the same."

"Uh... what?"

"Some who stretch themselves too far, too fast have been known to lose their grasp on reality."

Will's eyes grew wide.

"Others have seizures, strokes, aneurysms... some die on the spot."

"So how do you know when it's time to stop... doing whatever it is you do?"

"How do you know when it's time to eat? Drink? Sleep?" Anaia asked. "You listen to what your mind is telling you."

"Okay."

"Right now, you miss almost everything. You notice only what is pressing. What is immediate. Hunger. Thirst. The need to sleep. These are the mind's signals that require a prompt response. For that reason, they are conspicuous—easy for your consciousness to notice. You must learn to discern the others."

"What others?" Will asked.

"Let me ask you a question." She said. "How are you feeling right now?"

"Good?" Will said. "I suppose."

"You don't know?" Anaia asked. "You asked me, as if that were a question I would be able to answer."

"Good. I'm doing good." He corrected himself.

"That's it?" She asked.

He nodded with a shrug.

"You've just inherited the responsibility of shielding everyone you know from an ancient evil. The most dangerous assassin on the continent has driven you out of your home and tortured your best friend in front of you. You're an unwelcome guest of a people who would kill you if they found out what you were carrying. The world is falling apart. Everything hinges on you. You're clueless. And you're... 'good' about all this?"

She stared.

"Well, when you put it like that..." Will responded quietly, smiling.

Anaia did not respond in kind.

"Look at that smile." She groaned, shaking her head. "Okay. Answer me this." She said after collecting herself. "How long could you focus on something right now, without losing track of it?"

"You mean how long is my attention span?" Will responded.

"Specific to this moment in time." She said. "Given how long you slept last night, the time of day, your state of nourishment, your level of distraction... how long?"

"I don't know."

"You must know." Anaia said abruptly. "It's your job to know. Learn magic and fail to control it, and you'll collapse where you stand. You may not be the same person when you come to. If you're close to the wire on concentration, you need to recognize the signs."

Will thought about what she said.

"So, how long could you focus right now?" Anaia asked again.

"Maybe an hour?" Will guessed.

Anaia laughed quietly.

"Okay." She reached her hand up in front of her.

"What are you doing?" Will asked.

A shimmering ball of light made an appearance above her palm. It hovered there, waxing and waning in the dim light of the living room.

"Now, your turn." Anaia said.

"Wha... what?" Will said.

"You are the Archmage of Elysia." Anaia said. "Training or not, you should be able to manage a single, solitary light."

He closed his eyes.

"Not a good idea." Anaia said suddenly.

He reopened them.

"You need to be able to see what you're doing." She chastised. "A lot of beginners do that. I don't know why. Again."

He stared at the space in the air above his palm. Nothing happened.

"Picture what you want to have happen. Think of it in your mind's eye. Imagine."

A minute or two went by in stillness. Nothing appeared above his hand. He sighed in frustration. Still, he kept up an intense stare at that place in the air. He started feeling awkward. Anaia wouldn't take her eyes off of him, no matter how little was happening.

Will was about to give up and say something when he gave it one last burst of intense concentration. To his astonishment, a pure-white spark appeared in mid-air, just a few inches above the center of his palm.

Will gasped.

A swirling sphere of energy appeared above his palm. It was so bright it stung his eyes.

"Oh no." She murmured.

Will could feel heat emanating off of it. Blinding bits of white and blue shot off from the sphere like droplets of rain splashing into a lake. These immediately caught fire, sending up plumes of smoke from the floor.

The orb rose higher and higher. In a few seconds, it was at eye level.

"Not good." Anaia's voice was tense and harsh.

He tried to hold it still. But it was getting tougher.

Within a few seconds, he lost control. A flash of light blinded Will, and the orb was gone.

When Will regained his vision, Anaia was grinning.

"What was..."

Will stopped mid-sentence. It felt as though something had been rammed through his eye socket, straight up into his brain.

"Lie still." Anaia said. "It will pass."

The pain radiated down his back, through his fingers and his toes. He shivered. Convulsed.

Then, just like that, it was over. He opened his eyes. Anaia was extinguishing the fire that had by now spread across much of the floor.

"Not good." She chuckled.

"What's wrong with you?"

"You're the one who just conjured a sun instead of a simple light."

She got up to the kitchen counter, sighing and shaking her head. "The headache is called feedback. You used too much magic. Those who don't learn the easy way learn the hard way."

"You're enjoying this."

"When you learn an ability, it will become innate. A part of you. You won't have to remember how to cast it in order to call on its aid. Your intuition—your subconscious mind—will do that part."

She reached into one of the cupboards and pulled out a crystal champagne glass, then walked it over to the table by the couch. She sat it down.

"Now, again, remember your limits and your costs. That headache will be nothing compared to what's next."

"We're going to try another exercise." She said.

"Of course we are."

"Listen to what I say. I know it's difficult for you."

He smiled halfheartedly.

"Now..." She said. "Pick it up." She gestured to the champagne glass on the table.

He reached towards it with his hand. She swatted it away, then covered her face with her palms for a good ten seconds.

"This has been a very long day." When Anaia finally looked up, an astonished look clung to her face. "What have we been talking about for the last ten minutes? Pick it up, with your mind."

"Don't I have to learn how to do that first? Read a book, or something?" He asked, eyes wide.

"I fear that would be too much to ask."

"But, how?"

"No one can tell you how." She replied. "Focus. Stay on task. Keep out other thoughts."

He thought of the glass rising in the air. Nothing. He felt more than a little ridiculous. Moments later, the glass budged. He gasped. It shook, as though he had hit the table with his knee. Seconds later, it began to hang in the air.

"There." Anaia said calmly, with a sincere smile. "Your first steps."

Out of nowhere, the glass shattered into a thousand shards. Razor-sharp fragments of crystal flew out violently in all directions, including straight towards him. He panicked.

The crystal pieces stopped, hovering in mid-air. Anaia smiled grimly, holding out her hand. The shards began moving together, towards the table in a spiral. It was as though they were all connected by invisible threads, twirling on a string he couldn't see. They began coalescing, moving towards each other and forming larger pieces.

The shards joined together faster and faster, one by one. The process kept repeating itself. Just a few seconds later, the glass was as it had been a few moments ago.

Anaia looked over at him, a wide grin on her face.

"One day at a time."

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# Chapter 10 - A New Day

There came a loud knock on the suite's front door. Once, then twice more.

Will and Lewis looked up from breakfast. Before the two could react, Anaia was at the door, curved blade at the ready.

Given what she could do with just her mind, Will wondered why she even bothered with the weapon.

She threw open the door before the Haveners could even say "Who is it?"

A young couple rushed straight in. She sheathed the sword with no attempt to stop them. It would seem she gauged them as being less than a threat.

"You need to leave." A young man managed between labored breaths. "Please."

He was no older than twenty. His deep-green eyes looked tired and worn, and he had had hair to his chin. He dressed well, but his suit had inconspicuous tears, poorly repaired on more than one occasion.

"Now." His companion stepped in front.

She was obviously the more assertive of the two. Fiery blue eyes lent her narrow face a fierce, infectious light. Blonde hair so light as to border on white was cut above her ears. She was athletic. Quick. Nimble.

"Not even an introduction?" Will asked.

"I'm Grace." The woman said. "This is Julian. My... brother. Now we need to leave. They're right behind us."

Anaia's eyes went straight for Will and Lewis.

"Get your things."

Luckily, Will and Lewis had already brought their things downstairs.

She shut the door promptly, then latched it. A quick motion of her arms left some kind of magic on it.

"They know you're here." Grace added. "Everyone knows you're here."

Anaia sighed.

"The Chairman?"

"Dead." Julian replied curtly. "His family, too."

His eyes revealed a quiet terror.

"We're leaving." Anaia said promptly. She eyed Will and Lewis. "What are you two still doing here? Get your things."

The Haveners held up their bags.

"And you..." She looked to the newcomers. "Why are you here?"

"We're coming with you."

"No." She responded simply.

"It wasn't a request." Grace growled.

"He'll kill you."

"Whatever." Grace hissed. "Better than spending another day down below."

In that moment, the floor began to shake. It was subtle at first.

Lewis looked out the nearby window. "Timing is everything."

Everyone matched Lewis' gaze. Hundreds of soldiers in ornate metal armor were pouring out of the building opposite, crossing the span towards them.

"Away from the walls." Anaia warned abruptly.

"They're not messing around, are they?" Lewis grumbled.

"Close together." Anaia ordered everyone into a huddle into the middle of the room.

She approached Will without drawing attention to herself.

"Remember what I told you last night about knowing your limits?" Anaia asked.

Will nodded.

"Well?" She said in a hushed tone. "Forget it."

Will shot her a strange look.

"There is no way out of here. They are not here to take prisoners. Do you understand?"

"What, then?" Will asked quietly.

"I need your help." She admitted.

"Oh, this isn't going to end well." Will grumbled.

"I'm serious, William." Anaia hissed. "Have you ever heard of Translocation? Blinking?"

He stared blankly.

"Of course you haven't." She said. "With enough concentration, we can appear at the surface."

"Wait, what?" Will asked. "We can just appear at our destination? Why are we bothering with the trip?"

"Because it's difficult." Her voice dripped with frustration. "I'm not strong enough to move everyone topside by myself. Together, we might be able to."

"I almost set this place on fire last night." He whispered.

"Exactly." She replied in a hushed tone. "I've never seen anything like that. Not from a student."

"What about losing my mind? What could possibly make you think I'm ready for this?"

She looked out the window.

The soldiers had almost crossed the bridge. Hundreds were almost on them now, moving in a mass of gleaming golden steel. Will had never seen so many people all in one place before—save the night before, in the bazaar. But these all moved together in lock-step, as one. It inspired awe.

Anaia spoke slowly.

"In a moment, when I say, we're going to focus on the surface, to right outside that cave. Focus only on that place. Nothing and nowhere else." She whispered, moving closer to him.

"Okay." Will replied. He didn't ask what might happen if they got it wrong.

Without warning there came a single, loud crash. The door shuddered on its hinges.

"Now." She said loudly and abruptly.

He could hear another crashing sound impacting the door, and then another. The door came down. Then came a commotion. Footsteps. The tromp of boots. It all seemed distant, as if coming from the other end of a long tunnel.

Then all was silent. Or almost silent. He could hear the sound of birds mixed in with the sound of the soldiers far behind, in the distance. Then, with a crack of sound and a flash of light, the commotion of the soldiers was gone. The birds grew louder. The air felt fresher. Sunlight touched his skin.

He opened his eyes. A fiery-red morning sun emerged over treetops in the distance. He stood outside the mountain, where they had been the night before.

A familiar, raspy voice rang out behind.

"Right on schedule."

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# Chapter 11 - Ambush

Khel smiled at Will.

"I'll get rid of one of your friends now... as a lesson. Choose." Khel pointed at the three standing together a few feet closer to the door. "But choose quickly. That's rather the point of this."

Will was silent.

"No decision? That's okay." Khel replied. "I never liked the look of that one, over there." The edges of Khel's lips curled up.

Khel raised his hand. With a loud crack, blue flame shot from it at Lewis. The fire closed the gap between them in an instant.

When the flames abated, Lewis stood there, just as he had a minute ago. He looked terrified, but otherwise intact. He wasn't burned. The flames had stopped before reaching him.

Anaia stood in front of him.

"I knew it!" Khel exclaimed excitedly, gloating with glee. "I knew it was a trick." He sounded quite mad. "I knew you would stop me..."

"Yeah. Right. Okay." She said, a devilish grin finding its way across her face. "Because that makes sense. You weren't barbecuing a Havener."

Khel met her smile, then began laughing to himself. "You just Blinked that whole group five miles. And you're getting up to fight? Anaia..."

She was still.

"This may be a good day after all." He continued, smile growing wider and more out of place on his contorted face. Will couldn't help but notice that he didn't sound quite sincere.

A moment passed in silence. His expression faded gradually.

"But, why? You knew I would be here. You don't think this boy has any chance. You know what he's up against."

He paused to listen. Khel seemed genuinely curious what she had to say. No matter how much he wanted to look pleased at the opportunity to eliminate his adversary, he couldn't quite pull it off.

Anaia stared back, as if thinking what to say. She smiled softly.

"I would rather die fighting than never know what might have been."

Khel pondered for a moment, then grinned.

"Until next time."

A white light and a rush of wind erupted from where he stood.

He was gone. All was quiet. It was as if he had never been there, as if the last few moments had been a shared hallucination.

"What just..." Will began.

She cut him off. "You're asking me?" She said, mixed confusion and frustration in her voice. "It had us, dead to rights."

"Has he ever done shown empathy before?"

She laughed darkly.

"Empathy... You still don't get it." She said. "It's not a he. It's an it. Empathy is out of the question."

"Why do you do that?" Will asked.

"What?" She asked, squinting and shielding her eyes from the light.

"Call him an it? Treat him like he's an object?" Will asked. "He just let us go."

"Let's get one thing straight." She said caustically. "I've been dealing with Khel for a decade. Whatever it just did, it's part of a plan. You are not going to like that plan. It is nothing if not consistent. It did not just let us go."

"You didn't answer my question." Will pressed.

"Khel... Khel is not a person."

"Wait... what?" Will said after a moment.

"He's an experiment gone wrong."

"What?"

"When Khel was a boy, he was taken from his family. The Legion surgically grafted ancient Highcraft pieces into his body over a period of months. Dozens of them, infused to his spine. Most of the children died. The ones who lived... well, the effects were pronounced. Enhanced intelligence. Unpredictability. Wild emotions. And, of course, unnatural life extension and unmatched magical prowess."

"Unnatural life extension?" Will asked. "How old is this Khel?"

"How should I know?" Anaia replied. "If you haven't noticed, we don't talk much. At least a century. That's when it showed up here."

"A century?" Will scoffed.

"Khel is the only Legion mage we've never been able to chase back across the border." She replied. "It was in Valis when I joined the Guard, and it's still here now. It comes and goes where it pleases, when it pleases—always at the wrong place at the wrong time—disrupting our plans, acquiring our intelligence, torturing the right people."

"And you've never been able to get rid of him?" Will asked in disbelief.

"It treats our task forces like playthings." She grumbled. "There are stories of Khel breaking a half-dozen trained Arcanists without a sweat. It used to lure us into labyrinthian traps and then watch us squirm to get free—gloat over its superiority for hours and hours. More recently, though, I'd like to think I've given it something to think about."

She grinned.

"About that..." Will said. "He was dead, last night. I saw the body lying there. You don't get to come back from that."

"You have so much to learn." Anaia groaned, climbing to her feet with surprising agility.

She gestured to the path ahead. They set off down the old stone-brick road in silence, vanishing into the forest.

Part 2 - Thalassia

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# Chapter 12 - Into the Wild

Gasps sounded as the group reached the top of the mountain pass.

Will supposed the closest thing to what he saw would be a forest. But it was nothing like any he had ever imagined.

It stretched clear across the horizon, warping his sense of scale. The trees were endless, vast, and of every hue—mostly dark green and blue, with a few purple and amber mixed in. The greatest few stood out. They must have soared nearly a thousand feet into the air—towering over the canopy of the forest, casting ominous shadows and lending the landscape a uniquely flat appearance from the group's mountain perch.

"Thalassia. The Darkwood." Anaia announced to the group. "Your namesake." She nodded to Will.

"Okay, here's a question." Lewis spoke up. "How are we supposed to get through that?"

"We only brought enough food for, what, a few days?" Will replied.

"And you think no one lives in there?" Anaia smiled wryly.

"Who could live in that?" Lewis scoffed.

"It might be easier to start with what doesn't and work our way back." She started down the mountain. "Our first order of business is finding the merchants' road. It will be on this side of the mountain."

"Do we have to take the Illuan road?" Julian asked.

"Do we have to take a road into that?" Lewis chuckled. "What are you trying to avoid?"

Julian looked away in silence.

"This forest is not... natural." Anaia said softly. "The road is our only defense against it. I could tell you stories..."

"No, no." Lewis cut her off. "No story time. Please."

He and Anaia locked eyes, then stared at Julian and Grace. The two were lurking towards the back of the group.

It was not long before their path flattened, the rock face to each side dissipated, and the brush and saplings returned to impede them. Anaia direct them to an impressive white brick path, complete with glowing teal lamp posts.

"You're not fooling anyone." Lewis spoke up out of nowhere.

He was looking to the teenagers from the mountain. They were ten paces back. Until his comment, their eyes had been locked on one another. Quiet whispers had been going back and forth between the two of them.

The two started, looking forward.

"What?" Julian asked. "How do you mean?"

"Uh huh." Lewis replied with a sly grin. "Sure hope you're not brother and sister. How gullible do you think we are, kids?"

Will felt guilty. He hadn't paid enough attention to them to notice anything odd. He looked over at Anaia. She held an amused look in her eyes.

"We..." Grace started. "Our families are gone. But..."

"Stow it." Lewis said. "I get it. You don't have to lie. You think we were never... what, eighteen?"

"Nineteen." Grace said softly.

"Why did you lie?" Anaia asked, her tone cold. She stared over at them.

"Are you kidding? Like Ms. Sovereign Guard here would have taken two eloping teenagers out of the mountain." Grace laughed to herself. "No. We'd have been getting questions all day."

"The brother and sister angle always works." Julian looked to his companion. "Respectable. Makes sense. Plus, we look alike. No one questions it. Almost no one."

"Check your pockets." Lewis groaned.

"What?" Will asked.

"Check your pockets." Lewis repeated. "They're thieves."

"Takes one to catch one, I suppose." Will chuckled.

He checked his pockets. Sure enough, a fair few coins were missing.

"Takes one to...?" Lewis barked back. "I hardly think that's warranted."

"You're not fooling anyone either, Lewis."

"You're going to compare me to the swindlers here?" Lewis asked, with a feigned expression of hurt. "After I start off on this wild quest with you out of nowhere? I thought I was going to the pub. Look at me now. And let's not forget the torture."

"Was wondering when that was going to come up." Will mumbled, earning him a sharp glance from Lewis.

"Swindlers? And they ask why we didn't tell them everything up front." Julian complained loudly.

"Oh, pipe down." Lewis cut him off. "You obviously paid off guards to get up there. That money came from somewhere."

"Like the coins gone from my pockets." Will griped.

"I know your type. Hell, I used to be your type. Except I don't seem to remember someone like her tagging along."

"I follow him?" Grace scoffed. "Hah!"

"What?" Julian asked, looking over at her.

"You know what." She said, laughing to herself and putting her arm around him.

The road made a sharp turn, and the entrance to the wood presented itself ahead.

It towered over the landscape, like a great craggy wall of night. Silence took the group as the gravity of what they were about to do in entering this place came to them.

One could not appreciate the scale of it from the top of a mountain. This was less a forest than a three-hundred-foot-tall organism. Serene and terrifying. Shades of dark-emerald permeated it, mixed with the colors of autumn and spring. A dense fog clung to it, even in the middle of the sunny afternoon.

They stopped for a moment to take in the sight. It was beautiful. Now that Will was here, he wanted to go in. But he could understand the power of the place, the danger. He was afraid, too.

The group paused for a few moments, marvelling at the sight and deciding whether to take the first steps. There was no light inside the forest, save for the dim blue globes of the curved lamp posts. The foggy mist swirled to and fro with a subtle sway. Anything could have been behind it.

Will shrugged, then took the first step through the mist.

The fog cleared as he passed through the threshold, allowing him to see. The vague, misty presence persisted all around. But it was thinner than it appeared from the outside, and much thinner than he had expected.

The darkness was surprising. It was as if they had passed into a misty, moonlit night.

The canopy of the forest came into view above as Will's eyes adjusted. The color was spectacular. There were the dark greens of ancient pines, the lighter greens of old oak, the whites of spruce, the yellows and oranges of aspens, even the purples and pinks of unnaturally tall jacarandas and dogwoods.

Will stopped, admiring the glowing magenta of a tree just off the path.

"William." Anaia cried out.

Will backed away immediately.

"Again with the listening." Anaia responded softly. "The path. You stay on the path. This is Thalassia. You can get lost here in more ways than one."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Lewis replied.

"It means, you wander off, you might wind up coming out in the right where, the wrong when."

"What?" Lewis grinned. "How much of this stuff do you make up on the spot to scare us?"

The fog ripped through the spot where Will had just been standing with a strange ferocity. The air rippled, distorting like disturbed water. Thankfully, it stayed clear off the cobbled path.

Anaia winked at Lewis, then started down the road ahead.

#

# 

# Chapter 13 - Reverie

The next few hours' walk went by quickly.

Something new awaited around every corner. Bright blue trees, branches of auburn, fronds of an odd pink hue, gleaming green leaves... Will watched saplings grow before his eyes. He felt as though he were being watched, as though there was something in here with them that knew of their presence on the road and kept a close eye on their path.

Will felt exposed.

The lampposts were far and away the brightest light source nearby. They lit up the walkway, but nothing more. Everything beyond was obscured in the shifting grey-blue fog of the forest. More than once Will thought he saw pairs of eyes in there, staring back from the mists just beyond the road. But whenever he turned to look at them straight on, they were gone—vanished into the rippling dark. Then, just as he looked away, he watched the eyes appear again out of the corner of his eye, swirling in the mists.

After coming to the bottom of a waterfall, they reached the base of one of the vast trees they had seen from the mountaintop.

It was an oak. Or it would have been, were it any other tree. The scale of the thing made it alien. Will's cottage would have fit inside the trunk a dozen times over. The forest's canopy opened to let the gigantic trunk through, just enough to let a few tiny slivers of sunlight through the cracks.

The group stopped.

They had come to a wooden gate, fifteen feet in height, glowing silvery-blue. Anaia pushed it forward. With a clicking sound, it swung open.

"Quickly now." She called to the group.

Anaia led the way across a bridge on the other side. The path curved and began ascending along the trunk of the tree. Will could make out a path constructed into the tree above, curving up and into the misty darkness.

"We're going up there?" Lewis asked.

"We are." Anaia replied simply.

"I suppose now isn't a good time to mention my heights problem." Lewis responded.

"Don't look down." She said.

"There's a handrail," Will told him quietly. Sure enough, a sturdy handrail of the same curved white wood appeared alongside the winding pathway.

"Great." Lewis said facetiously, gazing up at the winding path. "Up we go..."

He gripped the rail tightly, keeping his eyes locked on the path ahead.

Like the path below, the wood here glowed, illuminating the way for them. They soon lost track of how many times they had walked around the great tree. They walked in single file, though the sturdy wooden pathway was probably wide enough to allow them to proceed two-by-two. Will suspected Lewis wasn't the only one who had problems with heights, at least in this dramatic context. There was only a single wooden railing between them and a spectacularly deadly fall.

Branches appeared all around—great, beautiful structures themselves hundreds of feet in length shooting off in odd angles from the trunk up into the air. Little bits of waning sunlight began to peek in from above. Red sunlight. Dusk waned in the outside world.

Anaia stopped. The path continued, ascending further. But it also branched off to the right, to a bridge into the open air. That was their path—out, into the dark nothingness beyond, soaring above the forest floor.

The bridge curved down, with branches appearing all around. Will had to duck to avoid them. He saw lights out in the distance, to the left and then to the right. They glowed like distant light-blue candles, flickering in and out of focus. Whenever he looked straight at them, they seemed to disappear.

The bridge ended abruptly. A city of light rose out of the mist, carved into the branches. Just ahead was a meeting house, hovering among the branches of the tree. Its appearance was almost organic—as if it had grown there. It glowed dim-blue.

Anaia pushed the door open.

It was a grand room, with an interior of the same glowing wood. The ceiling was glass, in a spectacular dome shape—made to look almost like the rings on a tree.

A wooden fountain in the middle of the room ran water around a brilliant light. It drew Will's gaze, and time seemed to stop when he looked at it. Several times, Lewis or Anaia had to pull him away. They looked at him as though he were losing his mind.

Anaia quickly led them through a door in the back, to another bridge just like the last.

The mist outside seemed to thin a bit now. Hundreds of magnificently carved wooden structures came into view. They were all around—some above, some below—some closer, some far out in the distance. Everything glowed in the misty night air. The whole place was alive.

Only, there was no one here. Nothing was out of place, yet everything was still. It was so quiet. Not even the constant sound of the animals below could be heard up this high. The occasional bird or owl sound pierced the veil of silence that covered this place. But otherwise, it was quiet.

The second bridge took them higher, to another structure perched in the midst of a sturdy branch, with leaves hanging all around.

It was a house, but it showed no signs of having been lived in for some time. Everything was laid out beautifully, as if someone had been expecting guests.

Anaia opened the door slowly.

"Let's get settled for the night." She said.

"Is this a good idea?" Julian asked. "It feels like we're breaking into someone's house."

"If they didn't want us here, we wouldn't be here."

"Well... do they have food?" Julian replied.

She pointed towards what Will imagined might be the kitchen.

Lewis walked to the window.

"What is this place?" He asked.

"It's called Reverie." Anaia replied quietly.

"Do you practice being evasive?" Lewis replied, turning his back. "You must practice."

"Listen to me." Anaia raised her voice to the rest of the group. "Do not leave this house. No matter what you see outside, no matter what you hear... I'm going to use a special lock on the door. Do not try to open it."

Everyone stared, except Lewis.

"Yes, because that's what I want to do." Lewis grumbled from the kitchen. "Run out onto the bridge over the creepy forest in the middle of the night. Great." His voice trailed off. "Hey, hold on. Is that the pantry?"

#

# 

# Chapter 14 - The Rift

Will looked out his bedroom window.

Shapes blended together in the fog. He could hardly make anything out through the dim blue. He squinted, moving closer to the glass.

He was sure of it. Something was out there, on the bridge. Something moved in the shadows.

Will craned his neck to get a better view.

It was nothing more than a speck. A shifting in the branches. But it was there, flickering in the dark. Any movement stood out in the windless night.

Will's face was just an inch from the glass now. His breath fogged it up. He stared intently at the source of the light. Anaia's words of warning stuck with him.

What was out there? He squinted with concentration.

In an instant, everything changed.

Will was no longer inside his bedroom. He stood outside, on the bridge, by the door Anaia had warned them not to open. The cold night air gripped his skin. Goosebumps ripped across his exposed arms.

A jolt of adrenaline hit him. He looked back to the outer door of their house, trying futilely to open it. It wouldn't budge. He remembered her words about the lock.

Will heard movement behind. Wind gripped the back of his neck.

He turned.

A silent figure stood on the bridge ahead, in the misty dark. A pair of eyes stared out of the black.

Thin and frail-looking, the stranger's silver-white hair came down nearly to her waist. She wore a simple, sleek white dress. She struck him as young—younger, even, than he was. There were no wrinkles on her cheeks, no lines on her forehead, no crow's feet around her eyes. Still, there was an ennui to her, a weary indifference.

The figure stood there, blocking his path on the bridge. She looked him over for a few seconds, then raised her arm to beckon him forward. She turned, disappearing down the bridge without a word.

Will paused for a moment. Something in the stranger's eyes had put him at ease. He couldn't explain it. As much as Anaia's warnings stuck to the back of his mind, he felt safe here.

He followed.

Within a minute, he and the stranger were back at the place where they had entered the city.

The meeting room was as empty as when they had arrived. His companion bore the same impassive expression. It was impossible to read her. She walked up to the glowing light at the center of the fountain—the same light that had captured him before.

Will followed. The fountain lit up the room, pulsing to a crescendo every few seconds, then waning—throwing the space into a virtual darkness. The light resonated, moving like a still pond with water falling into it from above. He reached his hand out to touch it.

There was no warning. His stomach lurched.

Will rolled and spun like a doll thrown by a careless child. He fell out of time.

#

# 

# Chapter 15 - Echoes of a Crystal Past

Will came to a stop on a cold, hard surface. His head was spinning. He sat up slowly and opened his eyes.

Everything was different. The light wasn't a dim blue, like it had been in the treetop gathering hall. It was white. Bright, teal white, like noon back in Haven. The air was different too. Clean. Dry. The floor was a uniform marble, crafted flawlessly.

He was no longer in the forest. That much was obvious.

But what was this place?

Whatever it was, it was grand. It must have been two hundred paces from one wall to the other, and a dozen times that to the top, at least. The walls were silver, pale-blue stained glass—carved into captivating, curved patterns shooting upwards into the sky, where they met in a point. Willows of pure white and silver were spaced out in two neat rows, with a long row of dark-blue carpet between. At its very end was a white throne chair—empty—together with a series of important-looking tables, chairs, and various other accommodations.

There was utter quiet here. Not even the leaves of the trees thought to fall. Not a single one was out of order. This was a pristine place—not one accustomed to uninvited guests. Nothing was out of order. Nothing except Will.

He moved perpendicular to the rows of trees and the blue-carpet path, toward the curved tinted glass of the outer wall. His footsteps echoed off the trees and up the walls, reverberating into the distance. What Will saw through the glass took his breath away.

He stood at the center of a grand city, at the top of the tallest spire. All around and below were towers of shimmering crystal—scattering the midday sun in a thousand arcs of pale-blue. Curved bridges of glass formed between. Some widened into hovering courtyards with all manner of trees at their tops. Engineered waterfalls filled the sky with mist.

Will looked further out. The city itself sat at the edge of a natural waterfall, overlooking an expanse of blue. An ocean. Will had never seen so much water in his life. He could make out the curve of the world in the distance. This was a clear day.

"Quite something, isn't it?"

A soft, slow female voice called out from behind. There had been no warning. Not even the sound of footsteps.

Will jumped.

A woman stood there. Thin, with ebony skin and black hair, her eyes were the same pale-blue as spire's crystal. She looked about Will's age, but her eyes told a different story. They betrayed a jaded intensity, the same Will's grandfather used to show—only worse. Much worse.

She wore a long, thin white robe with ornate swirling patterns and silver characters emblazoned onto it—the spitting image of the one Anaia had worn when they met. Only this one had its colors reversed. And it was longer, curling onto the floor behind as she walked.

"I have waited a long time for this moment."

Her cadence was off. The words came too slowly. Unevenly. It was is if she were out of practice with the language.

"You... you planned this?" He asked. "Did you bring me here?

"No." She responded. "Not yet. But I will." The expression on her face was hard to read. "It's a good plan. Don't you think?"

Will stared.

"It looks good on you." She reached across the top button of his shirt with no thought for decorum and picked up the Stone. She revealed the same gem hanging from her own neck.

"What plan?" Will repeated curiously.

"It will happen. It has happened. Time is tricky to understand, but it's a simple thing in the end."

"What... what?"

"I can't die. I can't give in." She said. She was becoming more fluent, more comfortable with conversation. "Not with him out there. And no one's immortal. Not really." She dropped the pendant, letting it fall back to Will's chest.

The Sovereign looked at Will, smiling wide now. She waited for a reaction from him. None came.

"You have questions." She said with a smile. "You'll have your answers." She led Will across the tower back towards the row of trees. The walk took an age. She was accustomed to silence. She didn't even look back.

She walked to a mahogany table to the right of the throne. She beckoned for him to take a seat at its end, then sat down next to him.

"What year is it?" She asked him. "Where you come from... when you come from."

"5226." Will said.

She sighed, taking no pains to hide her disappointment.

"The year is 4162." She said softly. "That's not bad, I suppose. I should be thankful I only have that much longer."

She stood up and walked to the edge of the tower, which was close now. In five steps or so, she was right up to the glass.

"What's your name?" She asked.

"Will." He replied. "Will Darkwood."

"Pleasure to meet you, Will Darkwood." She smiled. "My name is Elle. We have work to do."

#

# 

# Chapter 16 - A City of Mist and Light

"There are two-hundred twenty-six floors to go to the base of the spire." Elle said impatiently. "Are you willing to try a faster way?"

Will nodded.

"Don't be too quick." Elle grinned mischievously.

She opened a hidden door in the center of the tower, inward from the spiral stair.

Cold air burst in from the center of the spire, sending a shiver down Will's spine. He leaned his head over the edge and regretted the decision straight away.

It was clear down to the bottom of the tower. Two thousand feet, at least. He could see light down there, and vague shapes in a blur, but nothing else.

"This is what you had in mind?" He said with a terrified shiver.

She shrugged. "If you'd rather spend the next hour on the stairs..." She grinned slightly. "I find this more fun, but it's up to you."

"That must be a half-mile fall." He said. "Are you trying to kill me?"

Her grin widened.

"It's not really up to you."

She kicked him over the edge.

Adrenaline blasted through his veins. Wind rushed past his ears. He tumbled down, head-first.

She was right. It was a quick way down.

Something strange happened. When he reached the bottom, he slowed suddenly and came to a graceful landing on soft grass.

Will stood still—shivering from shock, but alive.

He looked around. He was still inside the tower. It shot up all around, a convex of crystal growing wider at its base and taller near the center. The spire was so wide at this point that he had trouble seeing the other sides through the misty air.

All around inside the hollow structure itself was a forest. Rolling hills, streams, brooks, whole meadows, even a lake. A quaint village was a few thousand feet off—also inside the glass. White stone paths corralled and connected it, with a marketplace in its center, leading towards wide doors in the crystal. Crowds milled about down there, where a path led out to the city beyond.

Elle landed silently to his side.

"What...?" Will's voice quivered.

"The Stone stores memories. There's no telling what she might have in store for you. What a tour around the city might dredge up."

"Wait a second..." Will said, realization dawning gradually. "Did you even know what would happen when you pushed me off that ledge?"

"I suspected." Elle winked.

"Great. Thanks for that." Will responded, not entirely able to suppress a smile. "And it's a she?" Will asked.

Elle nodded. "She's a whisper." Elle said, not looking towards Will. "A guide. A compass. Serenity when you need it. Courage when you're weak. Learn to listen for her. It will save your life."

Will just stared. "Have you lost your mind?"

She turned rapidly towards the market.

"Onward!"

"Wait." Will interrupted. "Won't someone recognize you?"

"I protect these people." Elle said calmly. "I don't rule them."

"They don't even know what you look like?" Will asked.

"There's a reason for that."

"I don't understand."

"We're not made to be immortal, Will."

"What's that mean?"

"I've seen so much change. Isolation is how I keep my grasp on who I am."

"Change is the only constant." Will said softly, remembering something Anaia had relayed to him the night they met.

"What did you say?" Elle stopped, staring with eyes wide. "That's a Greek proverb. How could you know that?"

"A what?" Will asked, confused. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing." She quickly turned away. "But where did you hear it?"

Will hesitated. "Something a friend told you before you died."

Elle stared at Will, exasperated. "Is that something you would want to know?"

"I suppose not."

She started down the path.

"When it comes to the future, ignorance is bliss." She forced a smile.

"I'm sorry."

She shook her head.

"When you've been at this as long as I have, you'll cling to the unexpected."

Will kept quiet. The view was striking—the way the light refracted from the crystal above played with the trees and the streams all around.

"How have you been alive for so long?" Will asked. "How does that happen?"

"People used to want that. They wanted to live forever." She replied quietly after a moment. "The Stone... well, our ingenuity caught up with our aspirations."

The path took them into the village.

It reminded Will of Haven. Trees were everywhere. The village itself abutted a lake. The homes here made use of neat, curved lines and pure, white wood.

"What's with the village?" Will asked, looking to Elle quizzically. "Inside the tower?"

"Why shouldn't we appreciate old things?" She asked, matching his smile. "Sometimes the simplest ways are the ones that stand the test of time. Think of it like... a reminder. A way of appreciating the way things used to be."

The road straightened out. The trees thinned. Bright magenta and white willows formed an archway over the main drag. The market was at the center of town. Hundreds milled about as a cool breeze captured the aromas of freshly cooked foods.

Elle's face lit up.

"Let me show you my favorite bookshop!" Her voice exploded with excitement.

"Your..." Will began to ask.

"This way." She cut him off.

Before he knew it, they were inside one of the nearby buildings just opposite the market.

An older man greeted them inside, with a slender build and a slight mustache. He had long grey hair and deep black eyes behind golden wire-rim glasses.

A grand and beautiful collection of books filled every inch of the open two-story space, from floor to ceiling. More than books, there were artifacts here—pens, paper, even bits of what could only be described as magic. Objects hovered about the store. Some of the books opened by themselves, conjuring vivid images straight into thin air.

The place was nearly full—mostly of shoppers even younger than Will.

"There's my longest-term customer!"

The man winked affectionately, grin reaching from eye to eye. He gave Elle a polite hug. "Elizabeth, it's so good to see you again. Amazing how you never seem to age... I wish I knew your secret. And you've brought a friend! Look at that."

"Charles, I'd like to introduce you to William Darkwood." Elle said softly.

"Oh, what a fascinating name." The man shook Will's hand vigorously, staring into his eyes over his glasses. "Darkwood. Well, Mr. Darkwood, welcome to the Enchanting Universe." He gestured wildly to the selection across the grand room. "Make yourself at home."

Will spent a few seconds too taken aback to say anything. There was too much going on across this room.

"Do you have it?" Elle asked, an unexpected light shining in her eye.

"Have I ever let you down before?" Charles responded with a soft intensity.

"Of course not." Elle said, waiting patiently as Charles made his way across the room to the desk at the back of the store, a similar excitement in his step.

"If anybody knew you had this..." Charles said quietly.

"My lips are sealed." She smiled brilliantly.

"And as for Mister Darkwood?" Charles eyed Will with a vague, half-serious suspicion.

"It's for Mister Darkwood." She said with a devious tone.

"Hmmm." Charles responded, not sure how to take this latest development. "And you trust him?" He asked, growing more serious by the second.

Elle looked at Will facetiously.

"I think so."

"Well, if you trust him, I think I can find it in myself to do the same." He said with a sly smile, handing her a colorful bag with the initials "EU."

"I only ask because... well, I wouldn't want to see the city come down around us." Charles said, voice growing more serious. Or mock-serious. Will wasn't sure.

Elle put her arm around him. "You worry too much, old friend." Her attention shifted, as if she were recalling something. "Is that new Tarien still coming out next week?" Elle asked.

"You know what they say." Charles said, grin growing even more sly. "I can neither confirm nor deny."

"Awww." Elle complained melodramatically. "Well, then. We'd best be off." She squinted at her host.

"So soon?" Charles asked, disappointment bleeding through his tone.

"Lots to see!" She announced as they passed through the door.

"Until next time." Charles called after them.

Elle rushed Will through the crowd outside, along one of the paths out of the village.

"What kind of store was that?" Will asked.

"I told you." Elle replied with a smile. "A bookshop."

"And you bought..." Will started. "What? A spellbook?"

"Cozy Mystery." She handed Will the bag. "Use it well."

Will stared.

"What?" She asked defensively, eyes wide. "You have no idea what I had to do to get my hands on that thing today."

"You're giving me... a book?" Will asked, flattered and surprised.

She smiled back.

He reached into the bag. It was a small softcover.

Secrets of Southfall.

The cover was mostly white, with traces of blue and blood-red in an elaborate, overblown pattern throughout.

"Not exactly high literature." Will groaned softly.

"If you don't want it, give it back." She snapped. "I've been waiting for that for six months."

"No, no." He insisted with a smile. "I just expected... something different."

"Nothing says more about a place than its popular fiction." Elle replied jovially. "Everybody's got to have a little fun."

Will picked up the book.

"Keep it in the bag." She pressed, her voice grave. "Weren't you listening in there? You'll get me in trouble."

Will stared in amazement. This was the harshest her voice had been. He couldn't tell if she were serious. Her eyes still looked playful.

The path led onto the lake, its white brick turning to glass. At its opposite side was a round, glass-floored platform with solid-looking handrails. They soon found themselves at the top of a waterfall. Barriers prevented boats from falling over the edge. Water from the base of the spire dropped over the immense falls—straight into the sea, some miles below.

"Welcome to Elysia, Will Darkwood." Elle smiled.

Dozens of spires shot up into the sky, built into the side of the cliff in apparent defiance of gravity. The city was all around now. They stood at its beating heart.

Will steeled himself and looked over the edge of the platform, into the falls. The roar of the water was overpowering. He wasn't sure any water ever made it into the ocean so many thousands of feet down. Mists rose up on all sides.

So when the air around Will began to ripple like the surface of a turbulent pond, he didn't think much of it at first. He just assumed he'd been staring over the edge of the balcony for a bit too long.

But in a few seconds, Will's vision began to blur. He put his hands to his eyes, rubbing them furiously. It didn't help. Space rippled around him. A sensation of movement took him.

"Wait." He called out to Elle. His voice was distorted. The pitch was all wrong.

Elle looked over to him.

"No." She cried out. "Hang in there, Will."

The world grew dark. With a falling sensation, everything went black and quiet. Elysia was gone.

#

# 

# Chapter 17 - The Avatar

It took Will's eyes a few moments to adjust to the dark.

He was outside, and it was night. Both moons seemed unusually dim, as though some shapeless fog were blocking them from view. There were no stars.

He was lying face-up. Vague, pointed shapes rose up into the misty darkness.

Harsh footfalls called out behind him. They came with a slow, even rhythm, echoing off distant walls. They were getting closer.

Will sat up, causing his head to spin. Someone was coming. He turned.

He saw the silhouette of a man. The figure was tall, with long straight hair parted to the side. He wore an ornate outfit and a black coat that billowed behind as he walked.

The man waved his hand.

Will's stomach lurched again. He flew backwards through the air, landing on his back. Pain shot through his spine. He came to a stop face-down on a hard surface. He was pinned, unable to move. He wasn't quite paralyzed, but an invisible force held him down. The more he struggled, the more pain he felt.

The man kept walking, right over Will. The footsteps grew closer, then faded. He was pacing—waiting. He whistled silently to himself.

There came a sudden rush of wind.

More footsteps, now. These were quieter. Will couldn't move his head to see who it was, but his tormentor had stopped pacing.

"Took you long enough." The man said darkly.

"What do you want?" It was Elle's voice.

"I can't let you kill yourself, Elle." The man responded, his slow voice carrying sorrow. "Too much history there. What would I be without you?"

"It's done." Elle responded simply. "You know the Novikov Principle as well as anyone. What's done is done. We're not immortal, Silas. Neither of us."

"Says the two-thousand-year-old." He chided.

"Look at yourself." She insisted. "Nothing lasts forever."

"I'm not going anywhere." He responded with arrogance. "And neither are you."

He turned to Will.

Elle waved her arm.

The ground ripped away from Will.

"This isn't the end." The man's flat, confident tone waned behind as Will fell through the solid ground.

#

# 

# Chapter 18 - The End's Beginning

Will felt like he might be sick if he opened his eyes. So he didn't. Not for a while.

When he did open them, he saw that he was back in Reverie, where the young woman had brought him just a few hours ago. No light came from the fountain now.

"Well?" Anaia's voice rang out his side.

"Give him a second, will you?" It was Lewis.

"How long have I been gone?" Will asked.

"Half an hour. I hadn't even gone to sleep yet." Lewis responded. "How did you get here?"

"Let's go." Anaia picked Will up and dragged him out the door.

"How many times do I have to talk to you about listening, William?" She growled. "Of all the irresponsible things you could have done... wandering off in the night like that."

"I was in the past." Will said softly. "Elle set this up."

"I don't care." Anaia responded immediately, not looking back. "It doesn't matter to me. I don't care if you're a fool's hope. You're the only hope we have. You don't go wandering off."

She pushed him out the door. In moments, they were back across the bridge.

Just as they were about to head inside, distant screams pierced the night.

"Get inside." Anaia snarled. "Both of you."

"I don't think so." Will shook off their supporting hands, standing up straight.

"I'll deal with you later."

"You're wandering off alone into the night, now?" Will protested. "Who's going to watch your back?"

"You're in so far over your head you can't see the surface, William." Anaia glared ferociously.

"She picked me for a reason."

Anaia gave a loud sigh.

"Do you know how to survive a six-hundred-foot fall?"

Will stared back.

"Maybe."

She looked at him the same way she had in his house in Haven.

"You cannot be serious right now."

"Will..." Lewis' eyes grew.

"No." Anaia said intensely. "Okay. That's fine. We'll do this your way."

"What?" Lewis stared.

"Let's see what happens." Anaia responded darkly.

She pushed Lewis into the treetop house over his loud protests and shut the door with a crash. She swirled her arms across it in a bizarre pattern that erupted in violet light.

The screams below were growing louder.

Anaia leapt over the glowing wooden handrail, then stood carefully on the other side, balancing herself with her arms.

"Here we go." Will said under his breath, beginning to regret his decision.

"Now... you really think you can survive that fall?" She gestured downward. "Without my help?"

He shrugged, then nodded softly.

"I'm not going to find a splattered corpse down there?"

"Either way you won't get to say, 'I told you so.' "

Anaia gave him a strange look.

"This is just great." She grumbled with a shrug. "I give you one lesson, and the next thing you know you're trying to be useful."

Will took a running start and leapt clear over the handrail.

Adrenaline blasted through his veins. Blood rushed downward. And then he came to a soft landing—not even displacing leaves as his feet touched down a few feet off the path.

He heard a few leaves rustle to his left. Anaia had touched down. She stared, amazed.

"It took me months to work up the courage to do that." She grumbled, then managed a smile. "You're just going to be insufferable, aren't you?"

More screams, closer now. They were coming from their left down the path, to the east. That was the way they had come earlier that night, but down a different fork in the road.

"Come on." She held up a light in her palm, leading Will down the road. Dozens of voices called out in terror. Some of these were silenced suddenly, replaced with horrific snapping, rattling, and gurgling sounds.

There were other voices, too. Lower. Throatier. Hissing—almost like animal noises.

"Hanters." Anaia whispered.

"What?" Will lowered his voice. "What is it?"

"Follow me, keep quiet, and keep your head down." She responded.

Families passed them, running desperately. They looked worn—as though they had been fleeing for their lives, for quite a while, and with no end in sight. Their clothes were tattered rags, many covered in blood and dirt.

Will and Anaia kept down the winding road, passing fewer and fewer.

A thick, soupy mist enveloped them, dropping visibility to ten feet.

Silence fell on the wood. Even the wildlife was quiet here. They could hear only their footsteps and a distant waterfall.

The mists became a thick, nebulous fog. It moved with purpose, swirling all around and swallowing them whole. Will could see his own shoes, and he could see Anaia, but not much else. He followed close behind. Whatever this was, she had obviously dealt with it before.

Then, they came upon something Will couldn't quite process at first. When he did, he covered his mouth to keep from retching on the white brick.

It had been an old man—too old to keep up with the group, apparently.

The head had been severed from the torso, twisted off and then discarded. Blood pooled all around, filling in the cracks between the now-bright red and white stone bricks. The scene was fresh, not more than a few minutes old.

"They must have lost him in the dark." Will forgot to keep his voice down. "But what could have..."

Anaia put her hand over his mouth. She shook her head slowly.

They were still. Ten seconds passed, then twenty. He looked over at her, as if to ask her whether it was safe to move. She gave him a look that clearly communicated the answer remained the same as it had been a few seconds ago.

A heavy breathing sound rattled through the mists.

It was slow. Steady. It could not have come from more ten feet away. It was too slow to be a person. Each breath was a snarl, marked with crackling that reminded Will of the noises rattlesnakes used to make in the hills near Haven.

Anaia stepped forward and disappeared.

Will waited in silent terror. Five seconds passed. Ten. Twenty.

A sudden cracking sound echoed throughout the wood, followed by a weighty crash.

A few more seconds passed in stillness.

"Now." Anaia's quiet voice called out barely above a whisper.

He stepped towards her voice.

She was standing over an immense creature.

It took up nearly half the width of the path. It must have been nearly fifteen feet long, and almost eight feet high. It looked like an oversized, muscular, hairless wolf—with insect features. It had six legs, all ending in hairless paws. Instead of jaws it had mandibles. Its eyes were compound like a bee's, and they were too large for the size of its head. But the creature had a snout like a wolf. And a tail, too.

"Is that..." Will began to ask in a soft voice, almost a whisper.

"Hanter." She responded, her voice still just above a whisper. "Legion weapon."

"But is it..." He again started.

"Dead." She replied in the same hushed tone. "Stay alert. They're never alone."

She pointed to slits behind the creature's ears, from which fog was still drifting. "They leave this mist behind to cover their numbers."

After agonizing moments of stillness, the mist began to clear. It was subtle at first. Then, almost at once, the foggy layer rose from the ground and vanished, as if it had never been there.

The dead creature looked all the more hideous now.

"What could create something like this?" Will asked.

"Ask the Legion. These things are as old as time. They've been killing Arcanists since the old wars."

"I'd expect magic to be able to handle brute force."

"You'd be surprised what brute force can do." She replied. "These things cleave people in two. Show up in nighttime fog banks and empty out villages."

The more Will looked down at the creature, the more he shuddered to think what it would look like alive. It must have weighed two tons. Its mandibles were two feet long. They were soaked in blood.

Now that the fog was gone, Will could see down the path in the other direction. He could see everything. He wished he couldn't.

The remains of at least a dozen were spread out amongst the hundred yards of white brick. They were so mutilated as to be indistinguishable. It took every piece of discipline Will could muster to keep from retching.

"Don't focus on it." Anaia looked over at him. "We can't help these people."

Will's stomach turned. He put his hand to his forehead, staring at the ground.

"Listen to me. There's nothing we can do. You need to get used to the sight of blood."

"Does that help you?" Will asked. "What did these people do wrong?"

"Nothing." She responded. "Wrong place. Wrong time."

"That's it?"

"This isn't the worst I've seen, and it won't be the worst to come. Not by a long way."

"I didn't realize..." Will started.

"That's enough for tonight." She cut him off. "Let's get back and see to the ones we did get to. These things had to come from somewhere."

#

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# Chapter 19 - Unity

"You look like hell." Lewis grumbled when he saw Will.

"Not my blood." Will replied curtly.

"Hey, it's not as bad as I expected." Lewis quipped. "You said you were going to jump off that thing."

Will smiled faintly.

The sun passed over the horizon, piercing the ringed glass ceiling of the meeting hall where they had first come into the forest city. A deep-orange glow filled the forest's canopy at the crack of dawn. A small crowd of well-dressed onlookers gaped at the newly arrived refugees.

"Starting to wonder if we should've stayed back under that mountain." Julian said quietly to Grace, off to the side.

"You heard the stories about what's coming." Grace responded. "Aru. And... Elaneth. I don't want to live like that."

One of the refugees looked over at Anaia. She was older. She could have had sixty or seventy years behind her. She was thin, with silver, curly hair down to her chin and a grizzled countenance. This was someone who had spent most of her life outside.

"I'm Kira." She said quietly. "We come from Shadowbrook. On the Northern Sea."

The room was quiet. The chatter was over.

"What happened tonight?"

"A fog rolled in at dusk." She said, voice faint and cold. Will struggled to hear her. "Unseasonal. We didn't think anything of it."

She paused to catch her breath.

"It must have been midnight by the time they started taking people." She continued. "Screams. We made for the forest. So many of us didn't make it. Our old. Our younger children." Her voice cracked.

"What happened here?"

Anaia spoke up. "Hanters are usually scouts." Anaia said. "The Legion will be here in days. Hours, even."

The faces around her paled.

"What does that mean?" A voice called out.

"A professional army, quarter-million strong. They will make an example of you."

"Why?" The same voice. "What do they want with us?"

"Nothing." Anaia explained. "You're not them. Have you not heard of Unity?"

Silence.

"Their ideology is simple. Everything different must die. The enemy soldiers are all volunteers, driven by that idea."

"Can't we... talk to them?" Asked someone in the crowd. "Try to be like them?"

Anaia sighed loudly.

"I don't know that you'll like that."

"Well, what do you want us to do? We can't fight them."

"Come to the capital." Anaia said. "Together, we have a chance."

The murmurs grew louder.

"Look around you. You know what happens if you do nothing."

"Yeah, these are just their scouts." Someone else in the crowd pitched in—a young woman. "Your Sovereign is gone. The Avatar can control the weather, will his enemies out of existence. It's hardly a surprise you Elysians are having recruitment problems."

The room erupted into a storm of argument.

One villager turned and left, followed by another and then another.

Within minutes, only four others remained in the room—two villagers, and two citizens of Reverie.

The older man from Reverie walked up to Anaia.

"My name is Adrian." He gestured to the young woman beside him—the one who had greeted Will on the bridge last night. "This is my daughter, Evelyn. We'll be coming with you."

#

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# Chapter 20 - Homeward Bound

There was no farewell. No one came to greet them on the way out. The forest city was as empty as it had been when they arrived.

In the misty daylight, it struck Will how different Adrian and Evelyn looked from anyone else he'd met. Maybe it was something about living in the trees, or never seeing the direct sun. Their hair was a thin, silvery white. Their eyes were a cold blue. Neither's skin had even one wrinkle. Adrian must have been at least fifty or sixty, judging by his mannerisms—and by Evelyn's age. But he didn't look it. He could easily have passed for her older brother.

The Shadowbrook refugees—Kira and her young niece, Aria—couldn't have been a greater contrast from the other two. Bags appeared under their bloodshot eyes. Both were still worn and bloodied, despite the change of clothes. These were hard people.

The forest was even more striking in the dim daylight. Will caught sight of birds larger than he was, perched on branches themselves larger than the trunks of trees he'd seen elsewhere. As they reached the base of the great tree, Will looked up. Even knowing where it was, he couldn't make out even the first meeting hall—let alone the city surrounding it.

The forest road was calm, but winding. It followed the river for a little while, winding up and down the forest, crossing occasionally by bridge. These bridges were wooden, curved, yet also simple—not nearly as ornate as the carvings that made up Reverie. This wood did not glow.

Anaia looked to Kira, the refugee from Shadowbrook, who kept a close eye on her niece.

"Where will you go?" Anaia asked quietly.

"Never been more than a few miles from home before last night." Kira shook her head. "Now... well, home is gone. Everyone we know is gone. It's just the two of us. We'll go wherever we have to, I suppose. Wherever it's safe."

"Please. It's not safe anywhere." Aria hissed from the side. "You know better, Kira."

"We talked about this." Kira cut her off.

"Look at who's leading us." Aria chuckled to herself, shooting a glare over in Will's direction. "We're done for. Doesn't matter where we go."

"That's enough." Anaia's eyes flared.

"Against the Legion?" Aria shook her head. "Are you kidding me?"

"There's hope." Evelyn pitched in from the other side of the path. "There's always hope. Keeps you going when you should stop. When you have nothing else."

"Nice, tree-girl." Aria mocked. "Things look at a little different when you just finished watching your family torn to shreds by ravenous animals."

"Where would you go, Aria?" Anaia asked, looking at the teen with a furrowed brow.

"Don't care." She grumbled. "What's the point?"

"Fight back." Anaia growled. "That's the point. You stop it from happening to other people."

"Sounds like suicide."

"Thought you were done for anyway."

"Whoa...." Will stopped in his tracks.

Murmurs called out throughout the group.

They had come to a cliffside. The vista was spectacular.

This was a garden paradise.

Uncountable rivers, lakes, and waterfalls snaked in between woods, plants, and wildlife. Clouds moved quickly across the valley, turning to fog as the peaks pierced them. Birds flocked in a constant presence overhead. World-trees like the one that held Reverie sprouted across the landscape. Their branches touched everything. From this distance, they warped one's sense of scale.

Mountain ranges intersected in all directions. Peaks shot up into sheer rock faces. These looked sharp enough for a mountain climber to brave them, with the right equipment. The forest grew straight through to the tops of the mountains, as if the branches of the great trees punctured the rock faces.

The group paused at the top of a ridge, admiring the vista. Will had never seen anything that came close. The nearest crevasse must have run twenty miles from one ridge clear to the other, with a half-dozen forested ranges in between.

"Why would we live under a mountain?" It wasn't clear if Grace was talking to herself, or to her companion.

"Yep. Pretty great alright." Lewis paid the view a token glance before returning to the muffin that had somehow appeared in his hand.

"What does it take to impress you?" Will asked, looking over to his friend, and to the crumbs dropping unceremoniously to the rocky downhill slope underfoot. "Listen for a second. What do you hear? This whole place is alive."

"Over there!" Will pointed at a winged creature that buzzed a hundred feet or so above their heads. "Did you see that? That could have carried me off."

"Wonderful." Lewis grumbled, mouth full of crumbs. "Just what I want to hear. Could have carried me off."

"Where's your sense of wonder? Of adventure?" Will asked.

"Adventure. Mmm hmmm..." He said, smacking voraciously as he chewed. "How about... instead, I'll have..." He finished chewing. "Some ale-battered cod... with crispy chips, and two pints of amber? How's that?"

Lewis looked up. He had finished the muffin and was now rubbing his hands together, a wide grin on his face and a gleam in his eyes.

"Oh, a warm fire. I'll take that, too. It's damned cold in this forest of yours. And... guess what? My legs hurt. This path goes on forever. When do we get to rest on your grand adventure of yours, Mister Sovereign?"

"Small wonder he didn't have them lining up in his youth." Grace replied quietly from behind the two of them.

"I heard that." Lewis barked. "We can't all be the pretty-boy swindler over there, can we?"

"My choices are looking pretty good about now." She shot back.

Lewis scoffed, grinning widely.

The road shot straight up a peak. There were no switchbacks to aid the hike. Anaia didn't even pause. Groans rose up at the steepness of the climb. They could see the top of the mountain where the road was going. For what seemed like an hour, the peak appeared well into the distance. Clouds split around it. Despite the bright sun and the overwhelming natural beauty, despondency set in.

Finally, though, they reached the top.

"Okay. This is it." Anaia announced. "The Gap of Thalassia."

Will sensed she was trying to raise their spirits.

He looked ahead. He regretted that decision straight away.

#

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# Chapter 21 - The Gap of Thalassia

They had come to an ancient bridge of wood and rope, worn away by time.

Nearly a mile long, it was loosely suspended over a great chasm by long threads of rope running up to cliffs in each direction. Below was a half-mile drop to whitewater and jagged rocks. The occasional pine or oak, bent by age or weather, leaned over the river far below.

Given the steepness of the rapids, the whitewater turned to something like a waterfall. Mists rose all around the chasm, clouding up in front of them and all around. How anyone could have created something like this bridge was beyond Will.

Seconds passed in silence. Then minutes. The group just stared. No one had the temerity to speak. Finally, Will broke the silence.

"Don't look down." He nudged Lewis, remembering his friend's lifelong heights problem. Of course, Will couldn't help but do so himself.

"Yes, thank you." Lewis hissed. "Glad I tagged along. Heights were never a problem on my postal route."

Will caught the others giving each other glances behind. Adrian held Evelyn's shoulders. Julian and Grace exchanged looks, as if this might be their last opportunity. Kira walked Aria back from the edge. As Will had grown to expect, Anaia was stoic.

"What are you waiting for?" Anaia gestured forward.

"Is this something you do every day?" Lewis asked, irritated.

"You're the one griping about warmth and comfort." She said abruptly. "That's thirty miles yet."

"Have you... done this before?" Will kept his voice soft, hoping that only she could hear.

"This thing is ancient." Lewis added before she could respond, voice loud and grating. "Look at this rope."

He pointed to the bundles of twine holding the great structure together. They were thick—maybe four inches in diameter, almost like the bindings one might find on the tall ships of the Northern Sea trade fleets. But the rope was dark. Worn. Parts of it were frayed at the ends.

"It will be fine." She replied simply.

"Are you serious?"

Lewis was starting to sound hysterical.

"It looks like it could barely support one of us, let alone all of us at the same time—bags and all. And those planks? This wood? This is rotten."

He bent down and violently shook the nearest board.

In fairness to Anaia, they did look sturdy—though they were obviously hundreds of years old, and starting to show it. Some had holes, others were cracked.

"It's got to be a mile across, and half that down." Lewis continued. "Look at that fog. And the wind? I can see the whole thing swaying."

"If you keep going like this, you'll talk your way into a problem." Anaia responded with a hint of gentleness. "Just hold onto the rope, and keep your eyes on the planks. Nothing else. You'll be fine."

Lewis scoffed loudly, grumbled under his breath, and walked away from the bridge. Still, the others were calmed perceptibly by her words. With Lewis' hesitation, Anaia seemed to drop the idea of starting down the bridge right away.

"People use this bridge all the time." Adrian put his hand on Lewis' shoulder. "It's the only path through this part of the wood, and it's easier than it looks... at least through fair weather."

"And what about other kinds of weather?" Lewis pressed. "Ever done it then?"

"Well, I've never done it at all." Adrian admitted. "But, that's what I hear. Just... don't look down. And whatever you do, don't step on the rotten boards."

"Rotten...?" The blood flowed out of Lewis' face. "You're kidding, right?"

Adrian laughed, but Will suspected it was forced—as if he had realized his mistake in sharing a little too much with Lewis.

"You'll do fine."

"Fantastic." Aria quipped. Her voice was low, and she spoke to no one in particular. "Our odds just keep getting better, don't they?"

Will watched a fog bank roll in and out over the bridge itself. The structure waved in the wind like a snake, reflecting every nuance in the breeze. It was a wonder it didn't twist and turn, given its length.

"What is that fog?" Will asked Anaia.

"What do you think?" She replied curtly. "It's weather. We're in the mountains. Stop putting this off. Are you ready, or not?"

"Do you want to go first?"

"Now." She shook her head with a sigh. "Sovereign."

The first step was the hardest. The wood gave a loud, long creak beneath his first footfall. He stood there, one foot on the bridge and one off, waiting to see if anything would happen.

"His courage is an inspiration." Aria quipped.

"Aria!" Kira chastised.

Will took a second step, bringing all his weight onto the plank. This board was silent now, but he couldn't help but look down at it. His eyes were drawn to conspicuous cracks in the old wood. The boards were covered in them. And the gaps between the boards were disconcerting, too. Some were nearly an inch wide, allowing full view of the demise that was seconds away should something go wrong. He should have been able to hear the violence of the water below, but he couldn't. That was how far he had to fall.

The bridge held his weight. The whole thing occasionally swayed from left to right as he walked on it, and as the wind pushed on it. Will felt himself grip the guide-ropes to each side tightly. His knuckles grew cold as the mist from below began to hit him. He couldn't believe he had let them talk him into this.

Footsteps rang out behind—slowly at first, then more quickly. Will ignored them, concentrating his efforts on keeping a quiet, steady pace. With each step, he moved one hand forward, then the other, never letting go of the ropes to either side. There was nothing to prevent one from falling through to the sides—between the ropes and the planks themselves.

Judging by the slope, Will guessed he must have been a third of the way across the bridge by now. It had nearly leveled off. The fog was just a few hundred feet off now, and it was moving closer.

Suddenly, he felt something moving on his left hand. Moving quickly. Out of instinct, he pulled his hand off the guide-rope and brushed at it. Somehow, he managed to keep his balance.

What he saw scared him more than anything else. More than where he was, more than the gaps in the wood, more than the swaying of the bridge in the breeze. He couldn't help but cry out.

Hundreds of tiny mites scurried across his hand.

They moved so quickly. He could hardly see them. They were up his fingers, around his hand, towards his arm. He swept them away. They bit into him. They dug into his skin. They moved as they bit. Over and over little red welts appeared, with fiery bursts of pain.

But where had they come from?

He looked to the planks below his feet. Nothing.

Then he looked to the left, where his hand had been. The rope moved. It oozed, growing thicker and thinner, rippling like water. And it was frayed, as though something had been eating at it over time.

Will turned his head back.

"Let go of the ropes!" He cried out.

Lewis looked at him like he was insane. His eyes welled up to the size of silver pieces. He had never seen his friend so petrified. Lewis' fear of heights was something primal. He stood there, eyes wide. It was as though he had kept his eyes glued on Will's back for the trip across the gorge, and now that something had disrupted his gaze for the first time, he wasn't sure how to react.

"Lewis, look at your hands..." Will said softly, just loudly enough to get his friend's attention.

Lewis kept the ropes in a vice-like grip. But his hands were no longer visible. It was as the ropes had taken them in, obscured them from view. The same strange oozing and rippling that had taken the ropes now appeared all across his friend's skin.

After a second or two, Lewis broke his eyes away from Will and looked down at his hands.

He cried out in terror, shaking his hands violently in the air and sending a cloud of mites in every direction. Some hit Will, landing everywhere from his face to his shirt to his arms. Stings lit up his skin again, from his face, to his arms, to his chest. Shocks reverberated through the bridge behind.

Lewis broke into a panic, indifferent to the consequences. Screams echoed out behind as the insects made their presence known—biting and scrambling, causing fiery stings by the hundreds.

Chaos ensued. The bridge swayed and cracked as one board impacted another. Just staying upright became arduous.

"It's just bugs." Will cried, doing his best to sound calm and sounding ridiculous. "Keep your hands off the rope and you'll be fine."

The fog closed in. Mists enveloped them.

Visibility dropped to zero. Will looked forward again, then back. He could see Lewis right behind, struggling with the mites that had found their way under his shirt. The fog obscured everyone else.

The boards underfoot were wet now. One false step, and there would be no second chance. There was easily enough space for a leg—or even two—to slip between the wooden planks and the infested guide-ropes. And now, the guide-ropes were off limits to help their blind journey across the chasm.

Will slipped. He fell backwards onto Lewis, who caught him.

"Oh no you don't." Lewis grumbled. "Up you go." Lewis pushed Will forward with a little more force than he thought necessary.

Suddenly, the bridge began to sway. A sudden and terrific blast of wind buffeted Will from the side.

Within seconds the force of a gale had blasted Will's body onto the infested rope to the left. Gravity took hold. He fell helplessly onto the rope, nearly losing himself over the edge. He stared down the sheer drop. Only the sight of more thick, soupy mist greeted him below.

Will's feet lifted off from the bridge as the weight of his body transferred to the guide rope at the behest of the wind. The whole bridge swayed dramatically—finding a new angled resting place. Somehow, everyone managed to hold onto the infested rope, awaiting the end of the gale.

It didn't come.

The wind howled constantly, knocking the wooden pallets that made up the bridge against each other like wind chimes dangling on a string. It was impossible for Will to regain his footing. Each time he felt his shoe catch on one of the planks, the traction proved an illusion.

Adrenaline shot through his veins. He kept holding on, waiting for an end. He could feel hundreds of the insects crawling on his hands and arms, but there was nothing he could do.

The mites crawled up his body—not just his arms, but up his shirt, through its buttons and across his chest and abdomen. His weight was balanced on the rope. For every few he managed to fight off, hundreds more got through his clothing.

Will heard a scream.

He looked back, ignoring the thousands of insect legs all across his skin. The wind had cleared the fog a bit. His companions behind came into view.

Everyone in the group was in the same position he was—or almost everyone. Aria had fallen to the guide-rope opposite, which was now on the bottom—facing down the chasm at a perilous angle. She gripped the rope, hanging perilously over the chasm. Her breathing was quick, her grip tenuous. Every few seconds she would let go with one hand, then manage to regain her hold.

"Help!" She called out. "For crying out loud. Do something!"

She didn't have long.

"Hold on." Will called out, not sure what else to say. "Just hold on a minute longer."

"Are you serious?" Aria screeched.

A downpour began. Within just a few seconds the drops were enough to cause pain along with the force of the wind. They pelted the group in a constant barrage.

There was no way to get to her. Will didn't have enough traction to move down the bridge—to say nothing of the fact that she was ten feet behind him and five feet below, with Lewis in between.

Kira cried out.

Aria was gone. Fallen to the depths. There was no scream. The foggy nothingness had taken her.

Silence. Twenty seconds passed. Thirty.

Kira sobbed hysterically. The despair drowned out everything—the howl of the wind, the racket of the wooden planks, the swarm of insects. It all seemed so distant now.

Then, everything changed.

Aria appeared on the bridge, out of nowhere. She simply rested there, face-up on the angled wet planks, laughing to herself.

Will let go of the rope and landed on the bridge. He slipped, barely catching himself on the rotten wood. The impact didn't seem to bother Aria. If anything, she laughed harder. And the increased weight on the planks stabilized the bridge, bringing it lower down.

The others followed Will's lead, taking an odd comfort from Aria's bizarre demeanor. One by one they all let go, falling gracelessly onto the teetering bridge. Each time, the planks sounded out in protest. Pieces of rotting wood crashed into one another. Some of the old boards cracked beneath the strain of the impacts.

The weather was growing more violent. Will's eyes and exposed skin cried out in protest. A furious gale forced horizontal rain at them head on.

Still, the bridge righted itself. The direction of the wind shifted. Instead of coming at them sideways, throwing the bridge upwards to the left, the wind was now rushing straight at them, thrusting a curtain of water in their faces.

Ignoring the pain of the storm on their skin and eyes and barely able to see, they continued along the path. Every now and then there would be a quick shift in the weather—a gust blowing sideways that would send the bridge tumbling upwards in one direction or another, then rocking back the other way to compensate. Every time it felt as though the bridge was about to flip, or as though they would all soon find themselves holding onto a rope again, with nothing beneath.

But that didn't happen. The next thing Will knew, he stepped onto solid ground.

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# Chapter 22 - An Illusory Peace

Packs fell all around. Laughter and sighs of relief rang out.

Kira held Aria in her arms for a good ten seconds, then stared at her.

"How?" She asked in a quiet voice.

Aria smiled to herself, saying nothing.

Kira turned to Anaia. The two locked eyes for a moment. Anaia gave a half-smile, then walked on ahead.

They had come to a narrow crevasse between two rock walls, six feet across. A nebulous haze obscured the path ahead and the mountains above. The winds quieted down. Sunshine peeked through the canyon walls, reflecting brilliantly off the wet rock. The way ahead cleared. The haze lifted, the mists parted, and an afternoon sun stung Will's eyes.

A pristine meadow presented itself. Fresh breeze brushed across a lush clearing, parting the last of the clouds and leaving it glistening in newfallen rain. Tall grass swayed to and fro with the wind. Petals and blossoms danced through the air. Willows, aspens, and maples rose up, spreading leaves of amber, scarlet, emerald, and lavender—filling the scene with light and color. Autumn was in full swing. A clear and gentle stream ran through the meadow's center.

Will walked forward, leaving the rock of the mountain behind and feeling the cold grass under his feet. The breeze picked up, and he closed his eyes, feeling the last remnants of the dying rain hit his face alongside the sun.

A formless shadow played on the light all around. It was subtle, throwing everything into a partial shade, almost but not quite keeping the sun away.

"Look up." Lewis said quietly behind.

A world-tree towered over everything. Its roots dug into the mountains above the pass. It looked like a scaled-up version of the willows that numbered in the hundreds all around. It appeared to dwarf even the distant mountains. Its branches stretched for what must have been a half-mile in each direction, scattering the sun. Even with the weather, Will couldn't believe they hadn't seen it before.

Anaia smiled.

It was the first time in a long while Will could remember seeing real joy flash across her face. She walked past, crossing the meadow. Enjoying the colors of the sunlight and the trees, she looked like a different person.

"They won't believe you." Will said to Lewis. "Back home."

"Well, I don't know..." Lewis replied.

"You'll get points for originality." Will said with a grin.

"Gripping an ancient, insect-infested rope over a mile-long chasm... it is a good reason to miss work."

Will grinned.

"Yeah." Lewis noted Will's reaction. "Guess the postman gig is up."

"Where did you get that?" Evelyn stared at the Secrets of Southfall Will had pulled from his bag. He had been making use of the time to look it over.

"What?" Will asked, confused. "The book?"

"Careful. Careful with that spine." She cried out. "And those pages. You'll get it wet."

"Why?" He asked. "What's the problem?"

"What's the problem, he asks."

Will stared blankly.

"You've no idea."

Will shrugged.

"It's... a book."

She moved closer, staring at the spine and the front cover, transfixed. Will noticed Lewis' eyes begin to wander.

"Is that real?" She whispered. "That's... that's a manuscript. Where did you get that?"

He closed it and began to put it away. "What are you on about?"

"Don't tell me you've never heard of Secrets of Southfall." She grabbed it out of his hands. "The most renowned piece of mystery literature in Elysian history. And that condition... I didn't even know period copies of that existed outside the capital museums. This is a thousand-year-old book. You really have no idea what this is, do you?"

"No." Will sighed.

"Starting to sense a theme, anyone?" Aria grumbled.

Will glared momentarily.

"Why don't you tell us about it?" Lewis stared at Evelyn.

"How do you know about this?" Grace asked, curious. "Books, I mean? Do you have libraries in Reverie?"

"Not really. I just like books. Collect them." Evelyn replied simply. "Collected, now, I suppose."

"Have you been to the capital?" Grace's eyes lit with wonder. "To the museums?"

Evelyn chuckled softly to herself.

"What's funny?" Grace asked.

"Never set foot on solid ground before today. Used to spend hours looking down at the lights by the path, imagining what it would feel like to have the earth beneath my feet."

She shook her head.

"I would beg my dad to let me come down to the path, during the day." She continued. "Just for a few minutes. The merchants knew their way up. That's where we'd get everything from out of town. It's where I'd get my books. But they came up to us—never the other way around."

"Why?" Grace asked.

"Too dangerous." Evelyn mocked quietly. "We never went anywhere. I always imagined following those caravans, just... seeing where they ended up. Anywhere but the forest. Thought I'd be able to come back home afterwards though."

"You never know." Grace urged. "Our first time seeing the sky was yesterday. The sun."

"What?"

"Yeah. We come from a place called the Undercities. Deep in the bowels of the world. Trust me. You don't want to know... Outsiders don't get to see that part of Illuar. Julian and I never hoped to escape." Her eyes danced across the meadow, shimmering in the breeze. "And now look at us. So much color and light and life."

"It doesn't bother you the world is falling apart?"

"Is it?" Grace asked with a hint of a smile.

"It's what everyone seems to think."

"Look at us. At how far we've come. I'd say it's beginning."

Evelyn smiled gently.

"What is she doing?" Will asked abruptly, nodding off at the far side of the clearing.

Anaia stood alone at the distant edge of the ridge, where the terrain dropped off precipitously. She was still, staring off into the horizon. Will was curious what had caught her eye.

"I don't know." Lewis replied quietly.

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# Chapter 23 - Flash Freeze

Anaia stood at the edge of a stone cliff.

Forested ridges and peaks continued into the distance. Vast world-trees towered over the terrain. A sea stretched across the horizon.

Storm clouds gathered in the distance, so dusky and so dense that they could have been mistaken for smoke. Every so often, violent flashes ripped across the horizon, followed by dim thunder. From what must have been twenty miles, Will could see the effect of the furious wind on the great trees. Their limbs twisted and turned. Every so often one would separate from the whole, crashing through the canyons and trembling the ground beneath.

"What's she doing?" Lewis nodded at Anaia.

"I don't know." Will said simply. "It's like she's... staring at the storm."

The two walked up to her.

"Whoa." Lewis said under his breath.

Anaia's eyes were wide-open. Unblinking. Out of focus. She was locked in concentration, glaring at the distant clouds as if they had dared her not to flinch. Her arms were at her sides, palms up. She didn't notice Will and Lewis at all.

"Anaia?" Will asked.

No response.

"Anaia?" He asked again, with more urgency.

She stepped backwards, putting her arms down and stumbling. Her eyes refocused on the pair of them.

"Thank you."

Relief poured across her face. Her shoulders slumped. She struggled to maintain her balance. Her hands shook. Her eyes were red, and they struggled to maintain a focus on him.

"What was that?" Lewis asked, staring.

A shattering thunderclap echoed across the mountainside, followed by a gust of wind. Storm clouds visibly lurched forward, moving towards them with a relentless efficiency.

"What was that?" Lewis asked, noticing the sudden shift in the weather.

"We don't have long."

Anaia started back to the meadow.

"What just happened?" Will asked. "Are you okay?"

"I'll explain when we're safe." She started back to where the group had made camp. "That... that is not weather. That will kill us if we stay outside."

"What are you talking about?" Will asked.

"Hurry up." Anaia commanded, steadying her voice and forcing the other two to walk faster, despite the fact that they were helping her stay on her feet. "We have minutes. Maybe fifteen. At the most."

"Fifteen minutes?" Lewis asked, worry appearing all across his face. He spared a glance back at the storm clouds. "Fifteen minutes until what?"

Silence. By now she was ten paces ahead.

The sun remained. The bucolic meadow retained the same sense of tranquility as a moment before.

Evelyn, Julian, and Grace sat by the stream, dangling their feet in the water and enjoying some chocolates from their bags.

"What is it?" Evelyn asked. "What's wrong?"

"Where are the others?" Anaia asked abruptly.

Evelyn's smile evaporated.

"My father went back to the ravine with Kira and Aria to get something." She responded. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Get up." Anaia said coldly. "Now."

"A storm's moving in." Will said, pointing to the blackened horizon.

"Didn't look like any storm I ever saw." Lewis coarsely corrected Will.

"It's not a storm." Anaia roared.

Everyone stared. Evelyn, Grace, and Julian all got shoes on and climbed to their feet.

"If we don't find shelter, we'll freeze in minutes."

"That doesn't sound pleasant." Julian quipped.

"Well... if it's not a storm, what is it?" Lewis replied, evidently taking her words more seriously.

"Magic."

She turned her back, starting off towards the ravine.

Will and Lewis exchanged furtive glances.

Everyone followed behind Anaia. They arrived quickly. To Will's relief, Kira, Aria, and Adrian were all there.

"Looking for jackets." Adrian said in response to their inquisitive looks.

"Any idea why it's gotten so cold?" Kira asked.

By now, Will could see his breath in the air. Lewis and Evelyn had already begun shivering uncontrollably. Because of the pleasant weather over the meadow earlier, none of them had brought out any cold weather gear. In any case, most of it was still soaked through from the rain over the bridge.

"Don't suppose any of you saw a place we could find shelter?" Will asked quietly.

Silence.

Darkness descended. Black clouds obscured the sun. Snow began to fall. There was no warning—no dusting of white powder before the blizzard. It all started at once—a sheet of white across the landscape.

"Not good." Lewis whispered. He shivered violently, looking down at the half-inch of snow that had piled up in just a few seconds.

"What kind of weather is this?" Kira asked no one in particular, looking up. The winds were kicking up into a howl, and snow was engulfing everything exposed to the elements.

"We don't have weather like this." Adrian insisted, as if protesting.

"Yeah, you tell that blizzard." Aria grinned.

Everyone glared at her.

"Just saying..."

In what felt like seconds, six inches of powder coated the ground.

No one spoke. The snowfall accelerated constantly. Will had trouble seeing his bag—or the snow pile concealing his bag—only two feet away.

"What should we do?" Lewis asked through a particularly violent shiver. "Shouldn't we look for shelter?" He had to shout over the rapidly encroaching winds. Everyone looked to Anaia. Something was wrong with her—something other than the cold. Her arms were subtly shaking, and her eyes were half-shut.

"Look where?" Julian asked, raising his voice over the wind. "Wandering out there, in the blind? In this cold? You'll get yourself killed."

The rock walls offered no protection. An intense chill was settling in now, wiping the blood from Will's cheeks.

Some of the trees from the meadow outside had lost their branches. Great pieces of wood, some of them teen feet in length, swirled about overhead, above the crevasse. Will began to see some of the formerly pristine trees themselves twirling about above—flying to and fro—ripped free of their bonds at the behest of an unseen force.

Several of their packs fell over, sinking further into the snow.

A terrible numbness settled in across Will's extremities. His eyes drifted shut, and he remembered nothing more.

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# Chapter 24 - An Unlikely Introduction

An overpowering surge of heat blasted through the crevasse.

Will felt his eyes open.

He looked back, delirious with cold. A masked figure raised its hand. Blue flame shot forward. Snow all around melted quickly, turning to a pool of water with nowhere to go but back behind, to the chasm. Will could again see the black stone beneath his feet. The sound of rushing water filled the pass. Steam erupted to a violent, hissing cloud.

Will and his companions couldn't help but stir as their fresh white tomb was carried off from all around them—replaced with a scorching blue fire. In seconds, the snow disappeared from all fifty yards or so up the pass. So much of it melted that Will had to grab several of their packs so that they didn't float off into the chasm behind. Will himself had to step off to the side, out of the path of the stream.

"Get them up." A harsh, gravelly voice commanded.

He didn't recognize the voice, but it sounded familiar. And it gave him an ominous sense in the pit of his stomach.

Everyone struggled through delirium. But somehow, they were all able to walk.

The strange figure disappeared into the blizzard behind.

Will, Anaia, Julian, and Grace led the others out through the pass, past the far end where the masked man had just been. No one spoke.

Every step outside the crevasse was agonizing. The wind was horrific. Visibility was just a few feet. Will could hardly see their anonymous rescuer in the darkness ahead. He led them up a perilous path by the side of the mountain. After what seemed like an hour, they arrived at a crack in the rock wall. It was a cave. A dim light shone from inside.

Soon—sooner than Will would have believed—it was over. One by one, each member of the group had fit through the narrow crack in the wall, supplies and all.

Inside was a six-foot bonfire, built of nothing. There were no logs, no branches, no wood or fuel of any kind. The dancing flames just hovered on the stone surface of the cave, flickering over a large area in a rough circle.

Ahead of that fire stood a tall man, black bandana covering his face, long and scraggly black hair loose to both sides of his face. With the light of the fire stinging his eyes, it was hard to make out his features. But Will was sure it was the same man who had helped them in the chasm. He stood in silence, still, hands folded behind his back. Will could see his eyes move as he looked them over.

"Who are you?" Will's voice shook with cold.

"In time." The stranger's tone was harsh. Cryptic. It gave Will chills that had nothing to do with cold.

"Be warm by the fire." The man said softly. "We won't be going anywhere for a while."

Out of nowhere, Anaia threw her black robe to the side.

In a burst of lithe energy that hadn't seemed possible a moment ago, she pulled a dagger from her waist and leapt forward towards the newcomer in a twelve-foot arc straight over the fire.

The man put his arm up nonchalantly, as if bored. Anaia deflected harmlessly to the side, rolling onto the rocky surface and coming to a stop a dozen or so feet off to the side against the rock wall. The dagger fell out of her hand, clattering to the cave floor. He never touched her.

"What are you doing?"

He laughed slowly and quietly to himself.

"You were succumbing to the cold five minutes ago. If you were strong enough for that, you would have been strong enough to fight off the cold."

He looked at her, on the floor. She looked back, rage in her eyes, struggling uncharacteristically to get back to her feet.

"Why were you succumbing to the cold, anyway?" The man asked, quizzically, the corners of his lips curling up. "You tried to push back on the storm, didn't you?" His smile was complete now. "You did. You're insane. And brilliant. That's what I always loved about you."

He laughed. It was a deep, roaring laugh—not pleasant, but not without endearment for Anaia, either.

"It almost worked." She protested.

The man smiled broadly. In his eyes was something approaching affection. "You tried to change the weather." He said, a great laugh booming across the cave, echoing into the darkness. "That is fantastic."

"What... what are you two talking about?" Will said, stepping to the front of the group.

"Where did she find this guy?" The man asked Anaia with a vague chuckle.

The eyes behind the makeshift mask shifted to Will, eyebrows behind them raising.

"You think Thalassia is prone to flash blizzards, do you?"

The man walked around the fire, reaching over to the corner of the black bandana around his ear and slowly pulling it off his face.

It was Khel.

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# Chapter 25 - Refuge

Will put his hands up without thinking.

Everyone behind backed away, despite the proximity of the only heat source in the room.

"Who's he?" Evelyn asked.

"Torturer. Assassin. Rogue. With superpowers." Will recited off-hand. "That cover it?"

"Great." Grace grumbled. "Yeah, I remember him. Bad attitude last time. I like him better now."

"There we go." Khel nodded at Grace's recognition. "How about we just stick with that? The guy who just saved you from freezing to death?"

Khel's eyes were wide now. Will saw something new there.

"This is just another game." Anaia sighed. "Only question is what it's after."

Will thought he saw the edge of Khel's lip twinge upward just a bit at that last bit from Anaia.

"Oh, really? We're on the 'it' thing again?" Khel slumped his shoulders and sighed theatrically. "There's just no winning with you, is there? If I'd wanted to hurt you, I might not have shown up at all. The spell was doing a fine job of that."

"Spell?" Will asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, who knows, really?" Khel replied, looking down. "I've never seen weather like that. And I've been around a while."

"You're saying someone caused the storm?" Will asked, incredulous.

"It's dropped from pleasant to hypothermic in fifteen minutes." Khel responded. "In a coastal paradise. What do you think? Sovereign?"

"Who's causing it, then? I didn't see anyone out there."

"Until I snuck up on you?" Khel said, with a sly grin. "No, you wouldn't. He is back in Elaneth. He never leaves."

"That's thousands of miles away. He can do that?" Will asked.

"He can do anything." Khel said dismissively.

Aria scoffed. Kira grabbed her by the hand and pulled her away.

"Go away." Anaia grumbled. Will couldn't help but think she didn't sound believable. She climbed to her feet and dusted herself off. The ornamental blade found its way back to her hand. She had an aggressive look in her eye, though she was swaying a bit.

"I give you credit for persistence." Khel said, smiling. "But Anaia. I'd be more inclined to take your threats in earnest if you hadn't just fed-back into a stupor pushing back against the Avatar. You're crazy. Powerful, but crazy. And I just saved you."

"God help us." Anaia groaned.

"Do I get credit? No. Point is... you don't want to put up with me? Too bad."

"What are you after, Khel?" Anaia relaxed a little. She did not sheathe the blade.

"What am I after...?" He pondered. "What am I after..." His lips curled as he looked back. "It's a good question."

"Always is." Anaia growled.

"Alright." Khel's voice softened. "I'd rather you not die in a snowstorm. How about we leave it at that?"

"How about not?" She displayed the slightest hint of a grin.

"I've been here a long time." Khel said, finally. "In Valis. You know that better than most." He grinned widely. "But even you don't know the half of it."

"How do you relay information?" She asked, shooting him a stone-cold stare. "Where are your informants?"

"Right down to business. As usual, with you." Khel replied. "Don't you ever have fun?"

"I'm not sure you and I share a concept of fun." Anaia replied darkly.

"You wound me, dearest. I think we could come up with some things we could enjoy together." He smiled broadly.

"I don't get off maiming and torturing innocents to get my way."

Khel burst out laughing. A dreadful roar filled the cavern.

"What's funny?" Anaia asked, taken aback.

"Just the sanctimony, coming from you." He wiped his bright-red nose with his sleeve. "My informants, as you say, tell me a different story."

"We're keeping ourselves alive."

"Mmm-hmm." Khel said. "I don't hold it against you. I've seen the way you fight. You should be proud. None of your people have fought that way in generations. That's why you're about to be overrun."

"I guess the banter beats the cold." Julian groaned. He threw his bag closer to the fire and opened it, ignoring Khel.

Grace elbowed him. "Don't encourage this."

Khel smirked. "At least someone appreciates me."

"You were saying something about why you're here?" Will asked.

"Other than saving you sorry-looking, ungrateful lot from an untimely death?"

Will paused, then nodded.

"I've decided your sad little country is worth saving."

"Two days ago you were torturing my best friend."

"That'd be me." Lewis raised his hand.

Khel smirked. "You sure can hold a grudge."

"A grudge?" Lewis started. "Why you..."

Will put his arm over his friend's shoulder. "Not good enough."

"What would I be without Valis?" There was an earnestness in Khel's voice now. "Without you lot... oh, I would be so bored."

Will was silent.

"Okay." He nodded after a moment. "Fine. Will you join us? Tag along? Is that it?"

Everyone stared. Anaia's eyes grew in horror.

Khel shrugged, then grinned widely.

"You could use the help."

Anaia scoffed.

"Incredible." She pointed at Will. "Don't say I didn't warn you. Never turn your back on him. Not even for a second. You hear me?"

"Do I look like I was born yesterday?" Will glared back.

"Don't. Don't... answer that." Lewis added.

"That may be best." She turned away.

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# Chapter 26 - Discovery

The tunnels at the back of the cave were pitch-black, their air dense and stale.

The pathway snaked upwards, curving around and around in darkness. It did not look promising.

"Where are you taking us?" Khel grumbled.

"I told you before." Will replied quietly. "If we're going to stay in this cave, we have to know what's back here."

"What makes you think there's anything back here?" Khel replied with a testy grin. "It's a cave. There's just more... cave. It goes on and on."

Anaia looked to Khel, then over to Will with suspicion and weariness in her eyes. Will couldn't tell if she were tired of Khel's antics, or anticipating that he might try something.

"Look." Will cried out. "This isn't even stone."

He was right. They all felt and heard the familiar knock of wood underfoot.

This wasn't a cave. It was a hallway.

"Well, that's... different." Lewis started.

The next bend brought them to a pitch-black cavern. A wooden railing was built into the outside edge just ahead of their path. The fall was hundreds of feet straight down into the darkness.

"What is this place?" Lewis asked under his breath.

Without a second's warning, Khel threw up a brilliant light into the center of the chasm. Will's eyes stung.

It was the inside of the great world-tree they had seen outside.

A path ran along the outer edge, ascending counterclockwise. The trunk grew wider above. Will could make out hollow branches throwing themselves out in every direction. Some of these had already been destroyed by the storm, leaving holes where other tunnels might have been before—allowing light, cold, and snow to enter in quiet, narrow rays.

"What..." Lewis began. "Who could have done this?"

"Let's go." Will said, leading them up the ascending path.

"Excuse me?" Lewis laughed out loud.

"What's up there?" Anaia asked without moving.

Will turned, responding with a vague smile.

"Let's find out."

"Will, where are you going?" Anaia asked impatiently, throwing a light of her own back to mark the tunnel from which they had come.

"Couldn't say." He replied simply, turning and continuing up ahead. "I have a feeling about something."

"Oh, this sounds promising." Khel grumbled to himself.

"We just came within a hair's breadth of freezing to death. And you have a feeling about something?" Anaia hissed.

Will turned back again. Lewis and Khel's faces echoed her sentiments—the former more than the latter. Khel didn't seem to have nearly as much of a problem with this detour as he would have expected. That worried him.

He wasn't sure why he felt driven to continue. Something was up ahead. He was sure of it. He didn't know why, but he wasn't afraid in this place. It felt right to him. Almost... homey. A bit like a fresh pint by the warm fire during a winter snowstorm. Only there was no pint, and no warm fire. And he wasn't home. The sensation gave him pause, but only just. He kept going with a shrug.

The others followed, shooting each other funny looks. This air was cold. A biting chill assaulted every inch of exposed skin. The path was a narrow one, only wide enough to allow them to walk single file. And the rickety railing to their left was not enough to protect from a sudden slip, should something go wrong.

Will looked back at Lewis. He seemed to be doing alright—for now.

"Oh yes." Lewis caught his eye. "Why don't you come along on my delusional misadventure, Lewis? It'll be loads of fun. Torture, blizzards, mite-infested rope, dark chasms, great old climbs, half-mile falls. It'll be much better than a warm bite to eat and a couple of pints at the Drake." He gave a great shiver.

"You never stop speaking." Khel growled from behind. "It is incredible to me that you've survived so long."

"Hey..." Will called back from the front of the group.

"Of course. How could I forget the torturer who likes to make friends with his victims?" Lewis continued.

"What?" Khel asked. "This guy's been in the wild for what? Two days, tops?"

"A few days in the wild, he says." Lewis growled. "Already forgotten about our first meeting."

"Never going to let that go, are you?" Khel quipped.

"You tortured me!" Lewis yelled. "Let that go... What did you think, that you would come back and we would trust you?"

"You would be icicles right now, if not for me. Icicles!" Khel roared.

"It's not a bad place to start." Lewis admitted. "But don't pretend it didn't happen."

"Ingrate!" Khel hissed.

The tree rumbled ominously. Everyone moved back against the outer wall.

A howling blast of wind entered the dark, cavernous interior, along with a burst of light from the outside. Snow filled the gap, rushing into the trunk in great white sheets.

"Here."

Will pointed down one of the side passages adjacent. He shuffled through, disappearing quickly. Everyone followed a moment later.

"Hold on a second." Khel asked Will, incredulity and impatience in his voice. "Do you even know where you're going?" He gave a single, violent shiver—even through his thick, black coat.

"This is it." Will said firmly.

"This is what, exactly?" Anaia asked bitterly.

"Here's a question for this crazed quest of yours." Lewis added. "How do you know this isn't one of those branches with a nasty habit of falling off the tree?"

"We don't." Will said simply.

"Very reassuring." Lewis said bitterly. "Thank you."

"It's not much further." Will replied.

"What is it?" Lewis replied, confused. "You've never been here before... have you?"

"No."

"Then, where are we going?" Lewis asked, losing patience.

"I'll know it when I see it." Will replied curtly.

"Oh good." Lewis replied, remaining silent for a few moments after. "You've gotten lost on Haven Lake before. You can see your house from every bit of Haven Lake."

"Will you just hold on for a moment?" Will asked. "There's something up here. I know there is."

"No. No, I don't think so." Lewis accosted him, pulling him to the side of the passage and breathing down his neck. "I don't know what's gotten into you. I don't know if it's the cold or that thing you're wearing. But you're going to get us killed. The delusions have gone on long enough."

"Will you relax?" Will pushed Lewis away, shuffling further down the side passage.

The passage began to shake subtly, rocking back and forth. As they progressed further, this become more dramatic.

"Will..." Lewis warned, stopping for a moment. His tone broadcast concern and anger, in equal measure.

"I know." A concerted look of sincerity convinced his friend to keep going a bit longer.

Not ten seconds later, glass began to replace the outsides of the passage, with veins of wood running through it at odd angles.

The passage was, in fact, one of the branches of the great tree. Its glass floor soon allowed an unimpeded view to the forest floor and back to the trunk, hundreds of feet behind. Curtains of snow fell furiously all around outside.

"Don't look down." Will whispered with a grin.

Of course, that was the first thing Lewis did.

"I hate you."

Lewis smiled softly. It was forced.

Will looked down himself. It was something to see. Even through the howling blizzard, the ground was visible some thousand feet down. Gusts of wind blasted across the glass, which had no panes or divisions across its surface. He steadied himself as the entire branch rocked back and forth with a dreadful fury.

"Look." Anaia said, voice soft and impassive. She pointed ahead.

At the end of the passage, where the glass-lined branch ended and frosted leaves began to extend outward in all directions outside, was a table and chair. They were wooden and ancient. They were so old, in fact, that Will was surprised they still held together.

The smell of old hewn wood filled the space. It was a strange, sweet smell—bitter, pungent.

A pile of old books sat atop the old table. A faintly glowing ring was there, its azure light reflecting in the wood and glass.

"You're full of surprises." Khel said, a sly grin working its way up his lips. "Is that what I think it is?"

"You know more than I do." Will shot Khel a suspicious grin.

"Right." Khel smirked suggestively. "Then I suppose you won't mind my taking this." He moved toward the ring.

Anaia's dagger was at his throat before he took a step.

"Not a bad effort." She smiled broadly to Khel. "But I think you're slowing down."

Everyone was still.

"Someone want to fill me in?" Will asked, looking from one to the other.

"You're the one who led us here."

Khel playfully tapped his fingers on the blade that lingered at his neck. A broad smile appeared on his face as he looked to Anaia.

"Right." Will admitted, confused. "I did... what is it?"

Another moment of silence. Anaia and Khel stared at each other.

"How should I know?" Khel's eyes darted from Anaia to the ring, then back again.

Anaia bolted forward in a split-second. In another, she had grabbed the ring off the book and slipped it onto her finger. Will had never seen anyone move so fast.

Khel tried to move forward to catch her, but he was not quick enough.

She turned to face him.

He glared back, not six inches away. Something like admiration flared into his eyes.

In a flash of light and a dramatic swirl of wind, Khel was gone.

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# Chapter 27 - New Horizons

By the time they got back to the cave, Will had lost the feeling in his fingers.

Everyone still huddled about the flames. Evelyn, Grace, and Aria had brought out books. Adrian, Kira, and Julian were talking quietly over a game of cards.

Anaia did something to the cave mouth to keep the chill from getting in. Soon the temperature inside was more liveable.

Anaia now stood by the opening, staring out into the swirling darkness beyond—Will and Lewis just beside.

"What is it?" Will asked, pointing to the ring.

"Highcraft of some sort."

Anaia looked over the tiny silver band in the palm of her hand.

"That means it's connected to the Stone you're wearing. That's why you were drawn to it."

"Why did Khel help us?"

"You always think I have all the answers." Her voice dropped.

Will and Lewis looked to each other.

"He probably wanted this." She tossed the ring in the air, catching it a moment later. "Obviously wanted you to find it for him. And we don't know the first thing about it."

"What was it you called it?" Will asked.

"Highcraft?" She asked.

Will nodded.

"Relics from the Old World." Anaia replied.

"Who made them?" Will asked.

"Not sure anyone knows, anymore. On the Old World, ordinary objects became... something else. That's where magic came from."

She pointed to the pendant on Will's chest.

"So these objects... what, create magic-users?" Will asked.

"Not always." Anaia replied. "Some never see the relics. Never need to. Don't react to them at all. Others with no ability touch them, and start doing the most extraordinary things."

"I'm confused." Will replied.

"It's confusing." Anaia replied. "I'm not sure anyone really understands how this works. At least not anymore. The old texts are indecipherable."

"Of course they are." Lewis scoffed.

"What does that mean?" Will asked. "Indecipherable?"

She shrugged. "They're full of symbols no one understands. Point is, people study for years to have temporary access to Highcraft at the capital schools."

She paused, staring at the tiny ring with a smile.

"Look at it." She said in a hushed tone. "I've never even heard of Highcraft this small—apart from the Stone. I've seen tablets, pedestals, spheres of glass. Impossible to break through ordinary means. And they always have a certain glow to them."

"So... what's it doing in an empty cave in the middle of nowhere?"

"Nowhere is nowhere." She smiled. "That spot had been here for a thousand years. Someone left that here. Makes you wonder..."

Anaia pulled the books they'd found above out of her pack and tossed them to Will.

"Study."

He struggled to catch them in a cloud of dust. Each was hardcover, at least a thousand pages.

"Wait." Will said, thinking back to what Elle had told him. "I thought the Stone carried memories... that it would teach me what I needed to know."

Anaia leaned back, burying her face in her palms.

"You really don't like work, do you?" She said softly, finally looking Will in the eye. "You don't know what you don't know. You're liable to get yourself killed."

Will sighed.

"What about the ring?" Will asked.

She tossed it to him.

"William. From what I've seen, you'll need every edge you can get."

Will put it on. It fit perfectly.

He opened the first book.

Below the title on the first page was a handwritten inscription.

Will,

This should help you get started.

Elle

He re-read it. There could be no mistake.

But how? He himself hadn't known he was going to be here until a half hour ago.

He flipped the page, causing another small cloud of dust to fall off to the side. He saw Lewis get up and wander over to the mouth of the cave, joining Anaia.

These were Elle's books. The notes were hers, and they were not directed to him. The texts were older, even, than Anaia had guessed. How simple paper had survived that time, Will could not begin to guess.

"There's something you should see." Lewis said ominously.

"What is it?" Will asked.

"This way." Lewis responded, looking spooked. "It'd be easier to show you."

As he drew closer to the wall, a crashing sound filtered in from the gap. It sounded like thunder, only more consistent. The closer Will grew to the cave wall, the more he could feel the ground shake. It was subtle, but unmistakable.

The sound was snowfall. The sky opened up with enough force to crush anything unfortunate enough to be caught out in the open. The snowpack was everywhere. Avalanches started off in every direction.

Suddenly, the crack in the wall covered over. There was no way out.

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# Chapter 28 - Aftermath

"Ugh." Lewis grumbled. "Stuck in a cave. Wonderful. This weather ever going to let up?" His mouth was half-full of chocolate chip cookie, and the words came out garbled.

Aria glared at him from across the fire.

"No." She said slowly. "We're doomed."

Lewis shot her a funny look.

"You are an odd duck." He chuckled. "Do you know that?"

She ignored the question.

"Care to share?" She asked gradually—eying the pastry, then passing a discerning look to Lewis' bag.

"With that attitude?" He smirked. "You've got some nerve."

"Where did you get that, anyway?" Will pitched in quietly, looking at Lewis' cookie.

It was enormous—more like a six-inch disc of thick chocolate chunks than a pastry. Throughout most of the trip, most of them had managed to scrounge only necessities from Illuar or Reverie. Will had yet to see anything like that cookie.

Lewis pulled his bag closer.

"Guy's got to have his secrets."

He dropped crumbs all across the cave floor and pulled himself a little closer to the fire.

After another moment, Lewis had finished half of the treat, licking his lips and sighing with satisfaction.

"You want to open your bag, and hand me a cookie." Aria commanded, her tone surprisingly compelling. "Flourless oatmeal."

Lewis laughed to himself, a bit uncomfortably. "No... no, I don't think I do, lass."

"Tell you what." Aria said with a devious smile.

"What?" Lewis groaned, looking her way and then quickly averting his gaze. By his tone, he knew he wasn't going to like where this was going.

"You hand me a cookie right now, and I won't share with a certain someone over there what you're thinking."

Lewis scoffed a little bit too loudly, then turned pale as a ghost.

"What?" Will laughed to himself. "How would you know what he's thinking?"

"What's it going to be?" Aria's grin broadened. She leaned forward, as though to get to her feet.

"Alright." Lewis' voice was so low Will could barely hear it.

"What was that?" Aria asked. "I couldn't hear you."

"Alright." Lewis' voice wasn't much louder, but it was more intense. "I'll do it. Just... stay put."

Lewis unzipped the bag. Inside were dozens of every type of pastry imaginable, all stacked one upon another. Brownies, pecan bars, cookies of at least a half-dozen varieties.

"Good God, Lewis." Will cried out—a little louder than he had intended. Several eyes shot their way. "It's a bakery in there. How did you..."

"Keep it down." Lewis hissed gradually, voice barely above a whisper. He reached into the bag and handed Aria exactly what she had ordered—an oatmeal cookie of the flourless variety—and then quickly zipped up his pack.

Aria leaned back against her pack, savoring every bite in front of Will's friend.

"Mmmmm." She murmured to herself, looking his way. "This is something. You ought to try this."

Lewis glared.

"Oh, wait. Don't tell me." Her eyes positively sparkled now. "Was that your favorite? And was this your only one?" She asked slowly and rhetorically, shaking her head. "Shame." She took a slow bite, savoring it.

Lewis quietly fumed, looking away. Aria's eyes wandered across the cave, where they settled. Will wondered what she was looking at.

Will stared at Lewis, wide-eyed. "How would she..."

In that moment, Evelyn walked over and took a seat next to Lewis.

"That looks good, doesn't it?" She said, eyeing his chocolate chip cookie.

Lewis froze. He was still. He swallowed his bite of cookie and began to turn red. Bits of chocolate clung to both sides of his lips, and crumbs began falling to his lap. Aria cleared her throat, gesturing to her own lips. Lewis rushed to wipe off the chocolate.

"Uh, yeah." He mumbled, reaching into his bag.

"Oh, I don't want my own." She reached over and grabbed his half-eaten chocolate-chip straight out of his hand, taking an unceremonious bite from the other side of it. Her eyes lit up. "Mmmm. Where did you get these?"

"I, uh..." Lewis struggled for words. "baked them."

"Well, you're quite the baker." Evelyn held onto the cookie, taking another bite before handing it back. "What's your story? You're Lewis, right?"

"Yeah." Lewis voice was barely audible.

"I'm Evelyn." She reached out her hand, waiting a moment before Lewis reached out to take it. He was beet-red now, looking back as if in a trance. Aria caught Will's eye, and the two laughed quietly. "I hear you're a postman?"

"Was." Lewis said very quietly. "In Haven. Nobody cares where Haven is except those who've been there. And there aren't too many of them."

"Sounds familiar." She said. "How did you end up here?"

"Unmarked envelope for my friend here." He gestured to Will. "Knew there was something wrong with that thing. Then we've got assassins after us. I'm tortured. He's got this hero complex going on... trying to save the world, or something." He rolled his eyes.

"You were tortured?" Evelyn asked. "And you stuck around?"

"Well... yeah. Wasn't about to let him have all the fun." Lewis offered an awkward smile.

Evelyn smiled. "He's lucky to have you."

Lewis shook his head with a feigned scoff. "Will's a good friend." His voice softened. "We've always kept an eye on each other. Never gotten ourselves into this much trouble. But with a bit of strong tea, I've found things usually work themselves out."

Aria rolled her eyes.

Evelyn smiled.

"Speaking of which..." Lewis began, reaching into his bag. "I've brought a bit for the road." He pulled out a glass bottle of emerald-green liquid. "Pre-steeped. Probably more like iced tea now."

He pulled out china cups and saucers, laying them out on the rocky floor of the cave.

"What..." Aria whispered to herself, shaking her head with a grin.

Will couldn't help but smile at his friend's attempt at decorum.

"You brought a tea set with you..." Evelyn's smile broadened.

"My grandmother's unbreakable tea set." Lewis announced proudly. "Made for trips. Well, for hiking trips around the foothills. But the principle is the same."

"You cannot be serious." Aria groaned under her breath.

"Well, I would love some tea." Evelyn responded quietly. "What have you got?"

"Green." Lewis said halfheartedly, as if wishing for a greater selection.

"Green tea is my favorite!" Evelyn called out.

"Mine too!" Lewis said suddenly. "The healthiest tea there is." He beamed with pride.

Aria let off an exasperated sigh. Will chuckled. Lewis hated green tea. They had brought it because it was the only one Will had lying around the evening they left.

"So? What about you? What's your story, then?" Lewis asked, looking up as he poured two cups full of tea on the rocky cave floor, spilling conspicuously.

"Not much to tell." Evelyn replied. "You've seen our home. And you've seen the outside world. More than I could say, before today. Books were my brand of freedom. Our home was shy of the canopy. Growing up, I could almost see the sky. Enough of the colors to see what I was missing. Reading about it, about all those places we might see some day—all those people we might meet—I always dreamed of doing something like this. Of course, I never imagined it would be... well, like this."

"What do you like to read?"

"Anything I can get my hands on." She replied wistfully. "I would read a book, put it away for later, re-read it. Now I have four shelves full. Had, now, I suppose. Left it all behind this morning."

"You'll see it again."

"I'd like to think so." Evelyn looked down. "But who knows what'll be back there when we come back this way. If we come back this way."

"Where will you go now?" Lewis asked.

"I don't know. My father keeps talking about Achondria. About the ocean. But I hope to talk him into staying on with you. Always wanted to see the capital."

Lewis took a sip. For the first time, the taste of green tea didn't seem to be causing him pain.

"I could accompany you to a bookstore or two." Lewis smiled gently. The two locked eyes.

The ground shook with a terrible violence.

Looking out the crack in the cave wall, Will watched the snow begin to melt. It could not have been more than thirty seconds before the great white mass was gone, replaced by a torrent of water that rushed forward—and, thankfully, away.

Silence fell. The clouds parted. The sun emerged, painting the sky in a late-afternoon canvas of amber and teal.

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# Chapter 29 - The Overlook

"Not far now." Anaia said, sound impatient. "An hour's walk, at most."

"From what?" Will asked quietly.

"A warm bed and a cup of cocoa?" Lewis asked facetiously from the back of the group.

He stared at Anaia, waiting for a response. She shot him a disappointed look.

"Yeah, I know. Fat chance."

"You're not far off." Adrian said quietly. "The inns in Achondria are like nothing else on this world. If you have the money. King beds, seaside balconies, grand baths..."

"Don't get his hopes up." Anaia cut him off.

"What are you two on about?" Julian asked from behind Adrian.

"Nothing." Anaia and Adrian responded together.

"Didn't sound like nothing." Julian responded. "I know what nothing sounds like. That sounded like something to me."

"Adrian is an optimist." Aria spoke up, surprising everyone. "I would be surprised if there are any empty beds left in Achondria."

"Why's that?" Julian responded.

"Well, it hasn't been a vacation so far, has it?" Aria furrowed her brow. "The Legion is already there, I'm sure."

"Aren't young people supposed to be cheerful?" Grace responded.

"Whatever." Aria continued. "You didn't fall off a bridge."

"And yet here you are." Grace quipped. "Complaining. How does that work, anyway? Besides, we were all eaten by insects. We all slipped on that horrid thing. We all almost fell. We're all still here. So what's the problem?"

"I think we could all do with a good night's sleep." Kira preempted Aria, who grumbled under her breath.

Will could understand Aria's mood. The path down the mountain had been a long and winding one. For most of the last two hours, they had traipsed through scenes of bleakness and desolation. The storm had destroyed everything. The prevailing color here was grey. The knowledge that it had been beautiful just a few hours before made it much worse.

After a few more hours, the road took them back into the pristine forest, and their spirits lifted. This land was untouched, its surrounding flora unflooded and beautiful. The brunt of the storm had been focused on their group.

That itself raised questions in Will's mind.

Had they been targeted in some way? Was that even possible?

Maybe Lewis was right. A warm bed would do them some good.

The path brought them through passes that offered incredible vistas. The trees changed, too. There were fewer oaks and pines, and more willows, palms, cherry blossoms, blue jacarandas, and maples. The sun's rays broke through the tumultuous storm clouds, offering dramatic viewpoints to clear-blue shallows off the coast.

Two streams ran parallel to the path on each side. Too straight to be natural, they seemed to have been carved directly into the landscape. Each ran down a long archway of teal-blue willows, planted at regular intervals so as to envelop the road. The two streams combined into one underneath the path, becoming a waterfall at the edge of a tall, rocky cliff. Everyone stopped, staring.

Will rushed forward to get a closer look.

"Achondria." Anaia gestured beyond the misty waterfall. "Jewel of the North."

A teeming metropolis hovered on the surface of the northern sea.

The city was symmetrical and round, comprised of concentric semicircles—with canals connecting everything. Uncountable sails surrounded and enveloped it, shooting up into the pale amber sky. A cacophony of bright oranges and reds shot off the water from the waning daylight, reflecting from rounded domes of white stone.

The city's core supported a number of vaulted domes, with pointed canopies supported by columns and archways. But most of Achondria found its architectural definition in wider and flatter spaces—single-level parks, terraces, marketplaces, and verandas. The teeming ships' masts throughout gave the place a crowded feel, but most of the buildings were not nearly as tall as those few in the center.

Leading up to the city was a pair of towering statues. Elegant female forms wearing crowns and long dresses served as colossi, hands connecting over the center of the grand canal in brilliant blue light. They served as lighthouses for the main thoroughfare, connecting the city center with its outer boroughs and with the ocean at large via canalway.

Achondria was covered in trees of all colors—taller, in many cases, than the structures they surrounded. Only the central domes seemed to eclipse the meticulously manicured overgrowth. The whole place swam in greens, oranges, reds, pinks, even purples and blues. It shone in radiant color, especially in the teals and oranges of the afternoon sea.

The largest of the canals were almost bays or harbors, built to service the immense tall ships of the legendary trade fleets. Several of the largest of these were moored near the city's center, their masts towering over most of the city. Unfurled, the curved sails defied the scale of the ocean. They made anything seem possible.

Will had heard of these. He had listened to the "mountainfolk" in the Drake brag of other continents to which the trade fleets supposedly sailed. He had never believed them. There were never maps of these places. There was never any proof, either, besides the occasional odd trinket, the odd bit of exotic artwork or jewelry. No, these were places not spoken of outside the tavern, without a few pints to ease the telling.

After seeing those ships, though, Will wasn't sure anymore.

"You might want to wait until we get down there." Anaia looked to Will and lowered her voice. "Achondria is strategically significant and accessible by sea."

"What does that mean?" Will asked.

"It looks good from the outside." She replied. "But Aria is right. We found hanters in Thalassia. There's no telling what's waiting for us."

Part 3 - Achondria

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# Chapter 30 - Quiet Canals

"What are you doing here with these... people?" The guard scowled across their bedraggled group.

It had taken no more than fifteen minutes to follow the switchbacks to the grand gates. There were only two guards at the gate, but they seemed unaccustomed to visitors.

The second spoke up now, more out of curiosity than anything. He seemed much less hostile.

"Where have you come from, anyway?"

He raised his sword and used it to lift up Adrian's tattered robes, which were now much more of a greenish-brown than the pure white they had been back in Reverie.

"We've obviously come to the wrong place." Anaia called out simply in response. "This is not the city I remember. The place where anyone is welcome."

Only blank stares greeted her in response.

"Where's Rel? Captain of the Guard?" She asked.

The second guard's eyes widened with recognition at the sound of her voice.

"Anaia?" He laughed. "I thought I recognized you. You've been through quite the trip, haven't you? Who are these people?"

"Althus?" She responded with a grin. "The beard doesn't work for you."

"We don't have time for this." The first guard interrupted her.

"No, you're right." She said. "We need to speak to the governor."

"Keep your voice down." The first guard hissed.

"Anaia." Althus, the other guard, pulled her aside. "Things have changed. There's no governor."

She stared.

"Come with me." He said. "Katan, can you stand guard for a minute or two?"

The other guard looked back at him with a disgruntled expression. "Be quick about it. I can't be making excuses for you if they come asking."

Althus ushered the group through the city's main gate. It was an imposing thing—pure white, thirty feet tall, rounded, with curved sides that grew steeper towards a point to the top. It opened vertically and silently, as Althus cranked a knob with his arm. It looked like hard work, but he was quick about it—and quiet, too, as though concealing something.

"Come now. Quickly." He said.

The other side of the gate looked like it had once been a main artery of the city.

White brick lined a great and beautiful street. Curved lampposts abutted the long, straight road. Colorful trees appeared in pairs between them, each of a different kind and hue. Canals with docks and gondolas of varying shapes and sizes branched off from the road every so often, in arcing patterns outward from the center of the city. The fiery light of the aging afternoon shimmered across the water.

Will was surprised just how level the road was with the canals. Only a thin layer of glass kept the water from flowing straight over the road itself. Strips of light lined each canal, too, below the glass. The omnipresent glow gave the place a sense of energy, despite the late hour.

"Where is everyone?"

Anaia kept her voice down, Will suspected, out of instinct more than anything.

Althus was within earshot, but he kept quiet. He moved quickly, urging them on in silence.

Anaia was right. There was no one. Despite the width of the promenade—a hundred feet, at least—not a soul was visible. The breeze blew the trees to and fro. Boats knocked up and down against the canals. But it was deathly silent here. This was one of the biggest cities Will had ever seen—second only to Elysia. There should have been hundreds of people on this road. Probably thousands.

For some reason, Althus was sure to keep their group to the far-right side of the road, as far underneath the trees as he could. Will could swear they were being watched. This was not a comfortable place. Far from it.

"Althus." Anaia spoke up. "What's going on?"

Finally, after what seemed like another minute of silence, he spoke up.

"This way. Now."

Will and Lewis shared a wary glance.

Althus pointed them down an alleyway. It was curved, much like the canals they had seen on their way in. Only there were no windows looking out on this alley. Every rounded building on each side seemed to face outward. This could have been a delivery or a service access. It was not a path meant for diplomatic visitors from the capital.

Althus stopped abruptly. He leaned on a section of wall and tapped a particular brick with his keychain.

The quartz wall split open silently. He pointed inside.

"No time to explain."

The group rushed forward into the dark.

The door closed with an abrupt crash behind them. It was pitch-black.

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# Chapter 31 - Jewel of the North

"Kill them and be done with it." A low growl echoed through the black.

Anaia raised an orb of light above her head.

They stood at the very bottom of a circular structure, a small amphitheater of sorts. Nearly every seat was taken. Dozens of loaded crossbows pointed at their heads from every direction.

The men and women holding them weren't soldiers. Most weren't wearing any armor. Some had an apparently scavenged—but still impressive—chestplate or helm. Still others had only torn and ratty clothing. All looked like they hadn't eaten in days.

"Elysians." Another voice.

"A delegation for the governor." Anaia said tersely. "Where is he?"

The room burst out in laughter.

"Little late." Someone else from the crowd.

"Better late than never." Another added.

"And you thought the Sovereign was dead. What did I tell you?" Another added.

Some of the crossbows lowered. Not all.

"This look like the Governor's Mansion to you, Elysia?" The first voice mocked Anaia.

"What is this?" Anaia asked.

"There's no governor." The man replied simply. "There's no Achondria. Not anymore. Not in weeks. We're on our own."

"It's true, then." Anaia said under her breath. "They're here."

"You don't know..."

"You've been occupied for weeks?" Will asked without thinking.

"Did you see anyone on the Promenade on your way in here?" The man asked. "In the canals?"

The man took the silence he got in reply as agreement they had not.

"Legion curfew." He grumbled. "Six in the evening to ten in the morning."

"What happens if you're out past then?" Will asked.

"You'll find out."

"And you are?" Will asked again.

"Katan. This was a poker den. Lost a lot of money in this room. Owner got pinched when the Legion came. What you see here's the resistance."

"That's it?" Will asked. "In the whole city?"

"That we know about." Another man added. "Don't know who else might be out there. Too risky to venture out."

Anaia scoffed, shaking her head.

"Elysians." A deep voice called from the shadows. It sounded close. "You are all the same."

A gigantic figure lumbered into the light.

The man was a foot taller than anyone else in the room. His forearms were bigger around than Will's legs. He was bald, but his pale face and his massive head were covered in a detailed black tattoo, with pointed shapes shooting off in every direction. His eyes were black.

He wore a dark, flexible metal armor. Heavily engraved, it billowed in the black—almost like cloth.

Without taking her eyes off him, Anaia pushed their entire group back with her mind.

The man silently pulled scimitars from scabbards at his waist. For most, these curved weapons would have required two hands. Not for him.

He approached Anaia, one blade in each hand. No emotion showed on his face.

Will desperately tried to push him away with his mind. The man chuckled to himself. He kept coming.

Unsheathing her weapon, Anaia stopped his vicious, two-handed attack in one arcing stroke and kicked the man away. She used no magic.

Tumbling through a table, the assailant hit a pillar with an unsettling crack. Will thought that might give him pause. But no.

The next attacks were a ruse. He landed a kick that sent her rolling to the far side of the room.

In a second, Anaia flipped to her feet. She lunged at him. He deflected the attack and again hurled her across the room in the other direction. Again she landed gracelessly, face-down, blade clattering across the floor.

The man approached slowly, shaking his head, grin on his face, bringing both scimitars to bear.

She telekinetically pulled her blade to her and cracked a smile of her own. Anaia was obviously finished playing.

She moved so fast. In just a few seconds, it was over. He deflected a few swipes of her blade, but a knee to the groin and a kick to the chest knocked him rolling clear across the floor.

His head impacted a pillar. A terrible crack echoed across the room.

His body was still.

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# Chapter 32 - Alar

Will stepped forward.

Anaia put out her hand to stop him. Her eyes flared. She shook her head in soft warning.

The body was lifeless. Quiet. Blood pooled at its lips.

The man looked even more massive splayed out across the floor like this. Will drew closer.

Out of nowhere, the massive black eyes ripped open, the size of half-credit coins. The man's chest heaved. He lurched forward with a renewed ferocity, gripping one of the curved blades.

Will wasn't quite sure what happened next.

He didn't think anything through. He saw the sword. He saw the man rush at him. That was about it. There wasn't time for him to react. It was too fast.

But something happened. There was no mistaking that.

Looking back, he remembered only bits and pieces. The room plunged into darkness. He went blind. A pulse of wind ripped forward from the gem on his chest, pushing everyone and everything back with a deafening roar.

The next thing Will knew, he stood at the center of a vortex of electric blue fire. It roared outward, consuming everything it touched. Objects from all around the room were drawn in. Plates. Coats. Food. Drinks. Chairs. Railings. Nothing was safe. The flame crackled with rage. Wind howled across Will's ears.

He heard screams. He tried to shield his eyes. It wouldn't end.

Then, all was quiet. Ashes fell. His ears started ringing.

Will opened his eyes.

The man was alive. He stood at the far wall, gaping.

"Where were you two weeks ago?" A half-grin appeared across his giant head. "We could have used you."

"Alar." Anaia's voice called out from behind. "Did you think I would forget you?"

Will turned, trying to avoid giving too much thought to the devastated hardwood all around, the wide eyes staring his way from all across the room.

"I'd hoped a little reminder wouldn't go amiss." The giant man climbed to his feet. "Who the hell is this guy, Anaia?"

"He's the new Sovereign." Anaia said softly.

More silence.

"Well, shit." Alar, groaned. "This just gets better and better, doesn't it?"

Murmurs followed through the room.

"It all had to end sometime." He turned away.

"End?" Anaia's voice raised. "I don't think so."

"I don't care what you think. Look at this guy. You're the one taught me to size people up, Anaia. This is no fighter."

"Says the one who was almost vaporized just now."

"You weren't here when they came. When blood flowed through storm drains. Light shows mean nothing. Damn near everyone I know is dead. This guy..." He nodded at Will. "This guy is not going to be the one to put things right."

Alar stepped forward, wincing with pain. His voice was gravelly and grim. In the full, clear light of Anaia's orb, Will could see dozens of scars on the man's face and arms. Some of these were old. Probably years old. Some, though—most, even—were much newer. They were not much more than scabs. He had fought very recently. Repeatedly. And it had not gone well at all.

"What happened here, Corporal?" Anaia asked quietly.

"What the hell do you think?" Alar spat. "Judgment day happened. The bloody end of the world happened. Your Sovereign didn't show. Corpses littered the streets. That's what happened. And now the Spire sends... him? After everyone's dead? You Elysians are unbelievable."

"We can fix this."

For the first time, Will heard Anaia's voice shake.

"Fix what?" Alar replied. "There's nothing to fix. It's over."

Alar and Anaia locked eyes.

"Like hell." Will muttered.

Without a word, he left the ruined pool hall the same way they'd come.

"Wait." A voice called from above. "The curfew. They'll catch you."

"Let him go." Alar growled.

#

# 

# Chapter 33 - Solidarity

Will's footfalls echoed through the derelict promenade.

The city was so empty.

Nothing stirred. Nothing but the wind, swaying rows of trees and the great masts to each side in the canalways. In the misty distance ahead, half-spheres of white stone rose to points in the golden sky—as if to challenge the heavens. The quartz must have been the work of generations of miners, traders, architects. Now it was a grand ghost town.

Still, more than a few windows had lights flickering inside. Dim. Barely visible. They couldn't have been more than candles. Will imagined how many eyes were looking down on him now, wondering what would become of the sole figure wandering about after dark.

It felt wrong. All of it. Before a few days ago, he couldn't have dreamed up a place like this. The sheer scale of it made him feel insignificant. Now they needed his help.

He walked to a tree at the promenade's center. It was a willow, nearly a hundred feet tall—one of dozens. It must have been ten feet across, with a circular patch of grass and a wall of white stone at its base. He reached his hand to the trunk, leaning against it and feeling the breeze.

Out of nowhere, someone grabbed his arm.

A spike of adrenaline shot through him. He turned, only to let out a sigh of relief.

It was Anaia.

"What are you..." He began.

She put her finger to his lips, pushing him against the tree.

"Please. For once. Be quiet." She whispered sternly.

Will was.

"Do you ever think?" She glared, eyes growing with each passing second. "No one else matters to you. Do they?"

"What..." His voice rose involuntarily.

"What do you think is going to happen here?" Anaia's tone was controlled, intense. "Were you going to wander into the center of town and face off against an army? Did you believe the Stone would provide you with all the magic you would need?"

Will was silent for a moment.

"Why are you here?" He asked.

"You're an idiot, Will Darkwood." She managed a hint of a smile. "But you're my idiot to protect."

"They're already coming?" Will whispered.

"Tell me you're not this naive." She stared in disbelief. "Look around. You could hardly have been missed."

Will bit his tongue.

"You're to be made an example of."

"Okay." Will said. "Tell me this. I tried a spell on Alar, back in the hall. It did nothing."

"I saw that." She shook her head. "His armor. It was taj."

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" Will asked.

"A mineral they export here." She replied. "Its source is Achondria's best-kept secret. Taj blocks most forms of magic. Effective in anti-mage infantry, as you might expect."

"I'm beginning to understand their interest in this place." Will said quietly.

"Apart from the strategic advantage in a massive port city thirty miles from the capital?" Her voice switched from sarcastic to somber. "Yes. Elysia relies almost exclusively on magic for defense."

"What have I gotten myself into?" Will sighed.

"Not the best time for that kind of talk." Anaia chided. A cold, devilish smile curled up her lips. "Right on cue."

She gestured down the promenade. A tinge of panic crept through Will's veins.

#

# 

# Chapter 34 - Eclipse

Towering figures leapt from building to building in the distance, ripping holes in every structure they touched.

They knocked out pillars, foundations, walls. Buildings crumbled—shops, homes, three-story structures, all reduced to ruin. None of this slowed them down. The ground shook as they drew closer. Boats hit the docks.

The approaching metallic monsters must have been nine feet tall.

They had no faces. Whether they truly had none, or whether they were covered, Will couldn't tell. They carried mace-like weapons taller than they were.

"I'm sure there was a good reason she picked you." Anaia seethed.

She pulled off her cloak and threw it to the side. It drifted off into the sea breeze. A mix of resignation and defiance appeared in her eyes.

"What..." Will started.

"Constructs." She cut him off. "The armor is taj. Don't get any ideas."

One separated from the group, approaching from the front.

Forgetting everything Anaia had told him a minute ago, Will put out his hand. The air rippled in front of him.

Nothing happened.

"A very good reason." Anaia groaned under her breath.

The first figure barreled forward, five more close behind.

Anaia threw her arms out to her sides. The ground quaked. Quartz bricks hurled out of their lodgings, swirling all around. She pushed her hands forward.

The weight of the bricks came tumbling down onto their attackers. There was a sound like crushing metal, and they were gone—buried beneath tons of stone.

All was still. For a moment, Will thought it was over. He breathed a long sigh, wondering how this might have gone differently.

Then the ground shook. It nearly threw Will off his feet.

He turned. Three more of the towering metal giants had appeared behind them, not thirty feet off. One of the faceless monstrosities had a two-handed mace held above its head. It was going in for the kill.

Will froze, paralyzed with fear.

Something strange happened then.

Stillness took the promenade. The wind stopped. Birds stopped chirping. Even the sounds of the sea choked off into nothing.

The gem on Will's neck blazed with a fiery blue light.

A burst of wind erupted in the direction where he had been looking. Leaves ripped off trees. Glass on nearby buildings shattered, hurling towards that spot. Water from the canals rushed over the barriers meant to keep it in.

The three attackers collapsed, sliding along the stone walkway, clinging to the stone bricks of the promenade. It did no good. They were ripped away at the behest of an unseen force.

When they reached the spot where Will had been staring, they disappeared. In their place was a fine powder of dark dust.

Then, things started to go wrong.

Gale-force winds erupted from that spot, swirling in ever-growing circles, overwhelming everything. Bricks rushed out of the road by the thousands. Trees snapped at their trunks. Shattered bits of wood and stone crushed everything in vast swaths of the promenade. Gardens, light posts, even buildings and ships broke to bits, collapsing into an ever-growing vortex of destruction in the center of town.

Will and Anaia were forced to cover behind a nearby wall as best they could.

Then, as quickly as it had started, it was over.

The refuse fell to the ground. A shockwave resonated through what was left. From the remains of trees to what had once been buildings—it was all gone.

Will climbed to his feet.

"Get down."

Anaia tackled Will.

"What?" He called out, confused. He tried to get up again.

"Down!" Her voice boomed.

Still confused, Will complied.

A wave of dark metal arrows soared through where his head had been.

"And stay down." Anaia growled. "Look at you. You're like a damned wrecking ball. You've been at this for all of a couple days, and you've flattened a city block. What's the matter with you?"

"We were..." Will began.

"The people here are our calling. They're why we're here. That's the beginning and the end of it. You can't go doing... that in the middle of Achondria."

"It's not like I meant to."

"Please tell me I did not just hear you say that." She fumed. "After you waltzed into the street here like you owned it. Like a one-man army."

"You're the one who's been telling me all about..."

"You're not her." Anaia cut him off. "Don't think you can step into those shoes. Not ever."

A few distant, staccato shouts broke the macabre silence.

"Don't get me wrong." She seethed. "Our people need hope. Now more than ever. And that Stone is our best bet. But you? Will Darkwood? The Havener? You're a pawn. You can't see the chessboard. And you haven't even realized any of this yet."

Another volley of the matte-black arrows blazed past above. These missed their marks by a few inches, but the angle was narrower.

Will looked up. The road was absolutely ripped to shreds. So were all the trees, most of the nearby ships, and almost all of the buildings for several hundred yards. He shuddered to think who might have been inside all those windows.

Harsh voices called out in a foreign language.

One called out loudly above the others. A command.

"It is over. Up. Slowly. No sudden movements."

Twenty seconds passed. Birds called out again. Will could hear the water brushing up against the docks.

Will looked to both sides. Dozens of men and women moved silently out to both sides of their impromptu cover. These were soldiers, battle-worn, with large frames and visible scars across what skin shone through their matte-black armor. Besides impressive-looking crossbows in their hands and the quivers at their backs, each had shortswords to their sides, javelins at their backs. Dozens more spilled out in each direction by the second, bows drawn.

Will and Anaia rose slowly to their feet.

Will gasped involuntarily.

Thousands of soldiers now lined the great road.

Anaia looked over at Will, eyebrows raised. She shot him a quizzical expression, as if to give him a cue. He had volunteered for this, he supposed.

The commander was in his mid-50s, bald, and expressionless. Scars were all over his exposed skin, and his hard blue eyes gave no clue of what was going on in his mind.

"We surrender." Will said quietly.

#

# 

# Chapter 35 - Bound

The soldiers moved quickly and quietly.

In moments, they were bound with heavy cuffs of black metal.

There was no smugness in the commander's eyes. No gloating. At his direction, two of the soldiers tied the prisoners' cuffs with matte-black rope.

Two more came forward, offering bizarre, circular devices to the man. These were larger, fitted with imposing-looking spikes on spring-loaded triggers.

At the commander's nod, the soldiers locked the cold metal tightly around Will's neck, restricting blood flow. The device made a clicking sound. Will felt a stabbing pain. Anaia struggled mightily. It took four soldiers to hold her still. Finally, though, they locked the device onto her neck, too, with a resounding click. At that point, she became stoic and proud.

"You move, you die." The commander looked up at him. "You stumble, you die. You look at me funny, you die."

He turned away. They began the long march towards the center of the city.

It was a strange feeling to be so helpless. Just one tug at the commander's arm and it would be over for both of them.

Will felt a warm, wet substance on his neck.

He touched it with both his hands. Blood. The collar had tightened. One of the spikes dug into his neck.

Will paused. At noticing the taut rope, the commander yanked it back to him without looking back. Anaia moved forward in anticipation of the commander's reaction, but Will didn't. The wound dug in deeper. Blood pooled in Will's hands. He lurched forward, stumbling and coughing.

Will had never known pain quite like this. Every movement stretched his tolerance, mincing the skin over the open wound, where the stabbing implement lodged.

The lights of the street grew together. They swirled together and into the sky. His eyes watered. The soldiers were gone. So was Anaia.

Will's stomach lurched. He fell to his knees.

The collar on his neck erupted in pain, the spike digging in deeper. Blood streamed down his neck. The world spun out of control. The promenade tumbled away.

#

#

# 

# Chapter 36 - Sovereign

"You've had a rough go of things today, haven't you?"

The voice was familiar.

A gentle force spread throughout Will's body, picking him up and sitting him on a chair.

His eyes opened. It was Elle. He was back in Elysia.

"4228." She said, gently hovering her hand over the wound. The pain in Will's neck vanished.

She walked quietly to the opposite side of the table.

Will touched his hand to his neck. The wound was gone. There was no blood on his fingers.

"What?" He looked up to her. "How?"

"That's what year it is." She grinned slightly, ignoring the question. "You were thinking of asking me. Sixty-six years have passed since last time."

"You could tell what I was thinking?"

She nodded subtly. Will sensed she was a little bit impressed with herself.

"I need to get back." Will insisted, urgency in his tone. "Anaia doesn't have long."

"By the time you get back, no time will have passed." She smiled gently. "Nice work, by the way—with the ring. I'd hoped you would find it. But to be able to use it on your own... that's not bad."

"What?" Will asked in confusion, still trying to find any evidence of blood on his neck.

"The ring." She said, staring blankly. "Haven't you worked out what it does?"

Will just stared back.

"Ah, that's alright." She said with a vague smile. "It's the ability to use it that counts."

"How did you..." Will started.

"I used to be a scientist." Elle put her feet up onto the table nonchalantly. "Turns out some things don't fade with time."

"A what?" Will asked, even more confused.

"Never mind." She said softly.

"I thought that ring was supposed to be Highcraft." Will said. "An ancient relic."

Elle chuckled.

"Do you suppose ancient relics were always ancient relics? Do you think it was always called Highcraft?" Her lips curled into a broad smile. "That 'magic' is literally magic?" She turned away, looking out the glass of the tower.

Now Will felt a little ridiculous. What was he supposed to have thought? Were these subjects discussed differently in the private annals of ancient immortals?

"Magic isn't magic?" Will asked quietly.

"You wouldn't have to ask if you had made it through my books." Elle sighed quietly.

Will stared.

"The ones I left for you with the ring...?"

"There wasn't time." Will answered.

A glint appeared in Elle's eye. "I know."

"What? How?"

"I've been watching you."

"Watching me?"

"The ring."

"So... ever since I put that on?"

She nodded with a smile. "With all that responsibility, did you think I wouldn't be keeping an eye on you?"

"But... we're in the past." Will said. "You're... well, you're dead where I come from."

"No one lives forever." Elle smiled softly. "And anyone can always change the future. At least until it is directly observed."

"Okay..." Will said, shaking his head in confusion. "Then I have a question. Why me?"

She shook her head.

"It's not about you. It's about them. It's about everyone else."

"But you chose me." Will asked with a quiet stare. "There had to be a reason."

"I will make that choice, yes." She corrected. "It's a decision I'll not make for a thousand years." She said, voice soft and even.

"But you know about me now. You know I'm not cut out for this." He said softly.

"Neither of us know that."

"I thought you were watching what I just did?" Will asked, astonished.

"Mistakes are how we grow."

"I'm not this kind of person." He said. "I can't do it."

"Why do you hold yourself in so little esteem? Let go of your fear."

"Choose someone else." Will pled. "Please."

"Even if I could, I wouldn't." She smiled. "I like the way you look after your friends."

"Even if you could?"

"It can't be undone."

"Why?" Will asked.

"It's complicated."

"Well? I'm not going anywhere... am I?" He remembered what had happened the last time she had brought him here.

"No." She replied. "He'll not be able to take you again. I've seen to that."

"So?" Will continued. "Why can't you send the Stone to someone else? I have someone in mind. She'd do a great job with it—save everyone a lot of trouble."

Elle smiled knowingly.

"Because of the Novikov Self-consistency Principle." She said.

"Novikov?" Will asked. "What kind of word is that?"

"It's from another time." She said softly. "Another world."

Will was silent.

"It means this. What is done, is done. It cannot be undone—no matter when the traveler happens to be."

"That doesn't make sense to me." Will said. "You have free will, don't you? Are you not choosing to do what you do right now? So choose to do something differently."

"Right." She looked away. "Free will."

"So you don't believe in free will, then?" He frowned.

"No, no. I suppose I do—to a point. It's just..." She struggled to find the right words. "It all comes down to one simple idea." She looked back to him. "One can never change history. It is possible to access the past, but not to alter it."

"What?" Will asked, confused. "Aren't we changing the past right now?"

"No. Time travel is and always has been part of the timeline. You cannot go back in time and kill your grandfather, because you did not go back in time and kill your grandfather."

Will's head spun. "So my being here... it..."

"It happened, before I even gave you the Stone. From the moment I first saw you with it, you were going to have it." Elle said. "The timeline is self-consistent. That's the Novikov Principle."

Will stared blankly.

"How do you know so much about this?"

"That is... quite the story." Elle sighed, leaning back.

"There's no way out of this."

Will leaned forward, burying his face in his palms.

"I didn't say that." Elle's eyes lit up. "Can you stand?"

Will pushed the chair off from the pristine table, appalled at the scraping noise it made in the immense hall. He stood. He was lightheaded for a second or two, but kept his footing.

"Follow me."

She led him away from the table, behind the throne. A spiral stair of beautifully carved marble angled towards the center of the spire, with clear crystal handrails on each side. At least ten stories up, a pair of double-doors greeted them above a circular glass entryway.

The room on the other side was a contradiction.

On one hand, it was spacious. The curved chrome and blue crystal spire walls were at least thirty feet out in each direction. The room came to a point at one edge, giving the space a vague triangular shape. Sunlight scattered across the mists, allowing for a perfect, unimpeded view of the city.

On the other hand, there was a humility to it. Ancient patterned rugs, leather chairs and couches gave the place a homey feel—and a smell of old things to go along with it. It was classy. Some of it could even be described as nice. But these did not look like the possessions of someone of this stature. It reminded Will a bit of Lewis' grandmother's house.

"As you might imagine," Elle said, "I am comfortable in the company of old things. Most of this is period. I've kept it around a while. So be nice to it, okay?"

"Period?"

"Antiques." She responded cryptically.

Will was not sure he understood. But he was careful to avoid touching anything.

Elle sat at an ancient-looking mahogany desk, its dark-brown wood contrasting brilliantly with the white marble of the floor and the midday sun, scattering through light-blue stained glass. She gestured across to a comfortable-looking chair. Will sat down.

Elle reached into a drawer and pulled out a thin, cylindrical piece of metal. She pushed it into the center of the desk, where it came to a rest. About the size of Will's palm, it was silver and rounded, flat on the top.

Will gasped. The block of metal began moving of its own accord, spreading out across the table and unfolding. The silvery form took up much of the surface, having unfolded in concentric circular patterns.

"That is craftsmanship." Elle said with a smile. "Two thousand years in a drawer and the thing has power. Silas knew how to build a company. I'll give him that."

Will sat back in his chair.

With a vague hum, the circular apparatus came to life—firing a clear three-dimensional image over the top of the desk.

A spinning blue globe hovered a few inches off the wooden surface, with some land masses and clouds spread out across it. Will could not help but run his hand through it—timidly, as though it might push back. But despite vivid color and detail that gave every appearance of solidity, his hand went straight through.

"What is it?" Will asked. "Is it magic?"

"Magic... does not exist." Elle said abruptly, and with finality.

"You know... if you had said that a few days ago, I would have believed you." Will said in an impassive tone. "But after all I've seen... how can you, of all people, say that to me?"

"It's not magic." Elle said. "None of it. 'Magic' is a shortcut—a word the lazy started using to describe a complex process. Over time, people took the term literally. The original meaning was lost. Now, everyone's forgotten about it."

"So... what?" Will asked. "You're saying there's a rational explanation for moving things with your mind?"

"Hard to believe. Isn't it?" She grinned widely.

"Hard?" Will asked, mocking. "No. Hard would be asking me to believe that ordinary people could build... this." He gestured to the spire all around. "Or that something like that could exist." He pointed to the image projector. "That magic... isn't magic? That's..."

"I know." Elle cut him off. "But I didn't get this out to show off."

She pointed to the hovering globe.

"What?" Will asked, shaking his head in frustration and bewilderment. "I don't recognize it."

"It's the Old World I'm sure you've heard about." She replied. "Two thousand years ago."

She reached over to a series of keys the device had illuminated on the desk by her seat in projected light. She typed in a sequence. The image changed, moving to a location on the globe. The perspective breezed through the clouds. Another image appeared—a moving picture.

Will had never seen anything that came close. It was like a photograph, but people walked across it—towards him—as if he were there. He could hear sounds, too—footsteps, voices, birds... louder noises he didn't recognize. The image was that of a grand city.

The architecture reminded him of Achondria. Ancient spires shot up from every direction. They looked thousands of years old. People were everywhere, of every different persuasion, wearing every sort of bizarre clothing imaginable. Some of these wore odd metal devices on their eyes and ears, too. There was no room to spare between anyone on the street. Will was shocked all those people found a way to get around.

They spoke Elysian. But it was an odd way of speaking—much more like Elle's version of the language than his own. Most of the words were lost on Will.

Every now and then people would shoot by the greater part of the road, which was generally kept clear, on rickety two-wheeled contraptions—or in larger, sturdier things with four wheels. Some had even more. The largest of these looked like they could carry two dozen people.

Will stared. He couldn't take his eyes off the image.

"Oxford. The city was called Oxford." Elle said quietly. "My hometown. Another life."

She touched a key on the device, and the image ended. The device folded back into its original configuration. A hint of a tear appeared in the corner of her eye. She reached up and wiped it away, turning aside.

"Forgive me." Her voice was shaky as she returned the folded device to the drawer.

"What happened?" Will asked, curiosity getting the better of him. "To all those people?"

She leaned back in the chair.

"They died."

Will wanted to ask, but he didn't have the heart.

"We kept trying to improve ourselves... to improve... everything. We thought we could do anything in those days. We thought we could be smarter. Stronger. Better. That we could live forever."

"Well?" Will asked. "It worked, didn't it?"

She shot him a devastating glare.

"It killed eleven billion." She seethed. "The war spanned decades. Only by sheer, dumb luck did we end up here. And even now... well, you have eyes to see."

"Maybe not." Will admitted. "You still haven't told me what magic is."

"Highcraft was a weapon. The last, from the war's waning days." Elle said. "It alters the body at its most basic level, allowing us to interact with... oh, how would I explain this to you? Certain energies that permeate our universe."

"That sounds like magic to me." Will said simply.

"Hence, the moniker." Elle responded. "It would take too long to explain to someone without the background. But believe me. There is a rational explanation."

"How do you know?"

"I invented it." Elle replied.

"We only figured out everything it could do after the fact." She was quick to explain. "Once the damage was done."

"What about the Stone?" He asked out of curiosity. "Was this part of your war, too?"

Elle paused for a few moments. Her dreadful stare was back—only this time it reflected shame, not judgment. After a few seconds, she responded.

"No."

"No?" Will asked.

"That's enough of a history lesson." She turned to the bookshelves behind the desk and began throwing more books down on the table in front of him, one after the other.

"That's it?" Will held up the Stone. "You're not going to tell me what this is?"

She looked down at the books for a second.

"I haven't the heart." Her voice trembled.

"What's this, then?" He pulled the first book on the desk over to him. It had no title. "I haven't even finished the other books you gave me."

"The ones I gave you half a century ago?" She sighed quietly.

"I got them this afternoon." Will said with a smile. "I made it through the Variance class already. That's got to count for something."

"The Variance class..." Elle shook her head. "And how has that served you?"

"I'm still here." Will offered. He regretted it right away.

"Thanks to my planning." Elle responded. "Another minute and your head might have been on a pike."

"I did my best." Will said quietly.

"It was a fight you chose." Elle said in a soft tone. "You walked out there."

"I thought..." Will started.

"Choosing to stand up for what's right takes courage. Sacrifice. But I won't let you do it unprepared. I will not let you squander this."

She held up the Arcstone on her neck, hand quivering.

"This is our people's future." Her voice was soft, intense. "If Silas gets his hands on this, a madman with delusions of godhood will lord over Valis for the rest of time. He will twist our people into a grotesque shade of their former selves. Nothing will stop him. Nothing ever could."

#

# 

# Chapter 37 - Memory

Midday turned to evening in the library at the top of the tower.

Only when Elysia glistened with artificial light did Will finish the tome. He wondered how much of the 1,292 pages he would possibly be able to absorb or retain.

He slid open the glass doors. The crystal walls emanated light, shining through the contours of Elle's quarters—giving them an eerie, otherworldly feel. Looking up, he could see a faint blue glow shooting up into the night sky.

Will didn't belong here. Places like this were meant for those who had come from them.

What had caused her to choose him, of all people? Why would an immortal need a successor, anyway?

These questions had bothered Will from the beginning. It felt so random.

Will looked the empty room over, from one side to the other, taking in the faint, artificial light. All was still.

"I have." A soft voice called from the center of the room, probably forty feet away. "Considered them myself, I mean. I have no answers for you. Except for the last. The answer to that is time."

Will walked over to her.

"Time moves quickly now." She said. "It was different at the beginning."

She sat quietly on a couch in the center of the room, looking out into the night. She looked like a different person—as dim as the light around her—vague, thin, and gaunt in the faint aura of the young evening.

"Decent conversations are rare, these days." She said, her voice calm but wistful. "People come and go. They live and they die."

All of a sudden, a slow clapping sound pierced the quiet. It was loud, grating, and close.

"Christ. You almost make me want to throw in the towel." A male voice—slow, cynical, confident. It was familiar.

Will looked to the couch to Elle's left. A man was sitting there.

He looked young. By appearances, he was in his thirties, with just a few odd wrinkles on his face. He had longer hair and angular features, with an expression of quiet intensity. Behind the eyes was a ferocity. He telegraphed familiarity with power. This was someone used to getting his way.

"Again, Silas?" Elle hadn't even bothered to look up. She looked tired, frustrated. "Can I not have one evening with him?"

"You kept me from pulling him out this time." The Avatar said, voice carrying a playful bite. "Thought I'd stop in. And why not? We can have a little extra chat to go along with our game tonight."

Elle nodded.

He stood up from the couch and was gone in an instant.

"What?" Will asked, voice barely above a whisper. "Are you really..."

Elle put her hand up to silence him. She glanced up. Will followed her gaze.

Silas was back, an old wooden chessboard balanced perfectly in the air in front of him, without his touching it. The pieces were across the board in exacting locations, held down by an unseen force. The game had evidently been going a while. Silas put the board down on the table without saying a word. Another moment, and he was back on the couch—leaning back, one leg crossed over the other.

"Are you familiar with chess... William?" Silas asked. His voice had a familiar ring to it, a subtle sarcasm that caused Will to doubt himself.

Will nodded.

"Ah. Good then." Silas boomed. "You should be able to recognize just how many moves are on the board. How long she has left."

"Only in your mind." Elle responded quietly. "However much of that is left."

Silas cracked a smile.

"We both know you don't mean that, Elizabeth. We both know you've not forgotten... anything." The grin broadened.

Will looked at Elle. On the surface, she retained the steely gaze. But there was something else behind those eyes.

Will returned his eyes to the chessboard as Silas moved a pawn forward. Will had only seen a board a few times in his life. He had one at home, somewhere. Like many of his possessions, though, it was foreign—inherited from his father. He knew the roles of all the pieces. He had even played a few games with Lewis. But strategy... that was a concept almost as exotic as the game itself.

As Will finished this thought, he watched Elle shoot him a conspicuous frown.

"Chess requires clear goals, seeing connections... and joining the present to the desired future." Silas said, now staring squarely at Elle. "Like anything, really."

He shook his head with a smile.

"So you off yourself in a thousand years." He looked back at Elle, stating a fact. "I wonder what goal that furthers." He moved a bishop down the board. "Have you succumbed to the doldrums of emotion? Elle Stevenson, the only mind to rival my own?"

"What do you think?" She asked quietly, moving a knight to block the bishop's path through two pawns without a pause.

"No." He said simply. "I know you. You're better than that." His voice quieted down. He leaned forward, staring across the board. "There is a reason."

"It's a decision I've not made yet, Silas."

"Don't do that." He replied right away, his slow voice raising. It was the first hint of emotion out of him yet. "It's not true. I'm looking at the evidence."

"Speaking of emotion..." Elle said, breaking a wry half-grin at Silas' raised voice.

Silas sat back in his chair, taking a deep breath.

"Tell me why." He commanded.

Elle sat back in her chair, breathing deeply.

"You already know why." She said finally. "I don't want to become like you."

For once, it seemed, Silas was at a loss. Then, after a few moments, he collected himself.

"You are like me." Silas' voice was low. A broad smile tore across his face, but it did not reach his eyes. He looked hurt. "Whether you still know it, or not. In all the ways that matter."

He paused for a moment, then threw the board an intense gaze.

"With a notable exception—apparently." He spoke up, looking briefly to Will, then back at Elle with a broad smile. "I don't make mistakes."

He moved a knight to take Elle's rook.

Suddenly, the whole room went still.

It was as if Will himself were the only one still capable of motion. Seconds went by in perfect, unnatural stillness. The artificial light from the tower still echoed off the outside. But the mists stayed there, outside the glass, stagnant—hanging in the air.

Silas' eyes were unmoving. Unblinking.

Elle turned to face Will. He nearly started out of his chair.

"He always did overestimate himself."

She smiled, looking briefly over at Silas, then returning her gaze to Will.

"You shouldn't stay here. He's not going to like my next move."

Will kept staring at Silas' still form.

"Did you think I didn't have a plan?" She continued. "Gather your things. You think he's here to play chess—on today of all days? What do you think's going to happen when he sees the game is up?"

Will did as he was told, grabbing his pack and his tome.

"The bookshelf behind my desk." Elle commanded. "Go."

Will did as she asked.

"Third book from the right, on the second shelf down." She said simply.

It took him only a few seconds to find the book.

"Did you get it?" She asked.

"It's handwritten." Will replied. "Looks like a journal?"

"That's the one." Elle replied, ignoring the question. "Put it in your pack. Now."

"What now?" Will asked. Right away, he regretted the decision.

Silas' eyes snapped back over to the two of them. The spell was broken.

It was frustration Will sensed from him—the chagrin of not knowing how he was beaten. His eyes went straight back to the chess board.

"You wouldn't be getting ready to leave unless... what did I miss?" He hissed to himself. Then—whatever it was—he saw it, and his shoulders sank. A curved smile broke across his lips. "I knew it. I knew you had something up your sleeve. That is devious." He looked up at Elle. "You really are something, Elle. I will miss you."

There was no warning. No tell.

A searing wave of energy erupted from his arm towards Will.

It felt like being inside the sun. Will could not have imagined pain like this. He closed his eyes, but it did nothing for the burning of his eyelids, the singing of his hair and face.

"Take off the ring." Elle called out. Will fell to the floor, but he had enough wits left to do as she said.

The pain vanished. Will plunged into the dark.

#

# 

# Chapter 38 - Deliverance

Will was back in Achondria.

The commander yanked the taj chain linking to the spiked collar at Anaia's neck.

Will took Anaia by the hand.

Before he realized it, he had Blinked them both to the first place he saw—the platform opposite, where the soldiers had been taking them.

What looked like it had once been a seaport bazaar at the top of the city was now a public execution site. Black flags adorned the elevated platform. So did stockades, metal cages, and even austere pulpits with chains and cuffs for holding down hands. Dried blood found a home all over the ground, caked at occasional drains.

A thick mist spread abruptly from nowhere. There was no warning—no weather preceding it. Until a few seconds before, it had been perfectly clear outside. The sky had been falling to a rich, full twilight.

In moments, the dark grey was everywhere. A murky fog turned everything soft and malleable.

"Stay close." Anaia's voice was soft and raspy.

The mists enveloped them, writhing to and fro. Shapes glided through the shadows.

The screams began.

It was just one, at first. A man's voice, at the top of his lungs, full of pain and terror. Then silence.

It started again, a chorus of voices—dozens. They came from all around.

"Get behind me." Anaia's voice was even colder now. It wasn't fear. More like focus.

She raised her hands. Blue flames burst outward all around, then quickly dissipated. The mists burned away, replaced by a wispy white smoke.

The platform came into view. The ruined remains of at least two dozen soldiers were carelessly strewn about.

"Wait for it." Anaia whispered.

Will saw them. Hundreds of glowing yellow eyes—compound eyes—insect eyes, the size of apples.

Hanters. Dozens of them. Hundreds. Their enormous forms spread all around the platform—half-insect, half-wolf. Their mandibles were soaked in blood. Some still dripped with it.

"Why would they attack their own?" Will asked under his breath.

"Nothing can control these things." Anaia whispered. "Not in these numbers."

They circled around Will and Anaia, leaving just a few feet to each side.

"You're going to be on your own, Will." Anaia said under her breath from behind. "I hope you're up for it."

Anaia held her arms above her head. She twirled in a half-circle, with her eyes closed. A second later, a storm of twilight fire erupted around the two of them. The heat burned Will's skin. The hairs on his arms stood on end. Then, just as he began to feel his skin burn, it was over.

Anaia collapsed to the ground. The hanters were gone. Only ash and bone remained.

Will turned, looking down the platform. An entire army stared back.

#

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# Chapter 39 - Revolutions

A half-dozen cloaked figures emerged from the army. They lowered dark hoods from their faces. They were bald, emaciated, and pale. Their eyes were not quite right, either. Where there should have been pupils, there were vertical slits.

They stepped forward towards Will, gradually. They raised their arms in unison.

"Oy!"

A raspy voice cried out through the night air.

"Over here!"

A brilliant flash lit up the sky. A tall figure approached, black overcoat flapping behind in the wind.

The light in the sky exploded, illuminating the promenade for half a mile. It hovered there. Night became day.

"Listen up." The voice was cruelly self-satisfied. "You all know who I am."

Who are you? Will's thoughts came quick and confused.

"What you may not know is that I will not let you take this man."

"You've got to be kidding me." Anaia laughed faintly.

The figure turned. It was Khel.

He was unfazed by the half-dozen figures on one side and the ten thousand soldiers on the other. He walked calmly through them as if they weren't there, turning towards the former with a fiendish smile.

"Well?" His voice softened. "I haven't got all night."

Their slit-like eyes darted from one to another in furtive glances.

Khel raised his arm.

A burst of lightning erupted from a cloudless sky.

One Legion mage was lifeless. Its fingers twitched on the quiet rock.

The others sprang into action, firing off dozens of spells Khel's way. He had an answer for each. He deflected some, absorbed others, sent some straight back.

It was over in seconds. Even with these numbers, it could hardly be called a fight. One was burned alive, another flash-frozen and shattered. A third he impaled with a sword telekinetically stolen from a hapless soldier some fifty feet off.

The last two positioned themselves between Khel and Will and prepared for a last stand.

It was then that the last mage sent a lance of ice hurtling through the back of Khel's chest. Khel crumpled to the ground, where he began to make a series of involuntary gurgling noises.

"Hmph." The last mage gloated.

He turned back to Will and threw up a burst of flame.

Spending the last of his adrenaline, Will put up his hands. The fire went straight back.

The man didn't react in time. He burned to a crisp.

Will ran to Khel. A pool of blood grew all around. The ice had pierced the center of his chest.

"Fool." Khel managed a hoarse whisper. "Behind you."

Will turned.

The soldiers stared, bows drawn. Will was alone now.

It started with a distant roar.

All at once, hundreds more soldiers poured out of buildings, to the left and the right—through dozens of doors and passageways.

There were thousands now. And they weren't stopping.

The whole city was here. Many had little more than kitchen knives, but the Legion was off-guard and ill-prepared.

The attackers scattered the invading army. More kept coming. Some threw things at the soldiers. Most seemed to have brought whatever they could carry with them: rocks, bricks, glass, knives. They were not discriminating.

"Taking a nap?"

A man's voice called out behind.

Alar, the vast figure from the pool hall, emerged from the shadows. At his side was a girl in her teens.

"Aria?" Will called out hoarsely. His head still throbbed and his eyes were watery, but he knew her face. "What are you doing here? Does your aunt know where you are?"

"Don't blame me." Alar reached out to help Will to his feet.

"You brought a sixteen-year-old to a battle."

"Yes, because I go where every stranger off the street in a foreign city tells me to go." Aria's familiar rancor broke the night air. "That sounds right."

"I didn't bring anybody." Alar said, defensive. "She followed us."

"We need to get her out of..." Will began.

"Look out!" Alar yelled.

Will turned to see a dozen javelins hovering three feet off his head.

Aria was holding up her hands.

She twirled her arms. The spears turned, then flew back at the soldiers who had thrown them. Even with the armor, the weapons pierced them through and through, clattering onto the quartz brick and rolling away.

"Useful in a pinch, this one." Alar muttered to himself.

Will shook his head.

"What..."

"You're welcome." Aria muttered.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Will asked.

"Oh yes, I have mind powers!" Aria grinned wildly. "I'm sure my aunt would react well to that."

"Look." Alar said, pointing.

Something was happening to the enemy ranks. Soldiers had started turning on each other. It was a bloodbath.

"Rebels." Alar said to himself. "It's true."

None of the Arunite legionaries seemed to know who was on which side—who would turn, or when. Chaos took hold. They were pinned, and they didn't have anywhere to go. The other side of the promenade was a mix of grand quartz structures and the widest canalways in the city. For most, the path of least resistance was the water. And their armor didn't float.

Then it was over. Voices rang out across the city. Cheering.

This had been a beautiful place. Now, the elegant quartz, the white trees, and the curving canals were all stained blood-red. Will shivered at the carnage. He wished the light in the sky would extinguish itself.

#

# 

# Chapter 40 - Consequence

Will looked across the room—the most opulent suite in the city.

This place was exactly what Adrian had droned on about in the forest. It was on the sixth floor of the "Queen's Estate," one of the oldest and most-cherished buildings in Achondria. To Will's dismay, it had floor-to-ceiling views of the Grand Promenade—which was still lit up with Khel's spell.

The night was alive with song and celebration. Will could hear it through the open windows. It came from every direction—the adjacent buildings, the promenade, even the rooftops. Song, cheer, dancing—thousands of voices. The streets had filled.

Inside, Will, Lewis, Anaia, Julian, Grace, and Alar sat on a great, round sofa that spanned the length of the room.

Adrian, Evelyn, Kira, and Aria had gone to the balcony facing away from the promenade. Will suspected the adults wanted to protect the children from the sight. He also suspected Aria had not told her aunt anything of the night's events.

The solid-oak door on the far side of the room burst open. The door slammed into a stop at the far side of the room, crushing it to pieces. The floor shook with the impact.

Khel stepped forward.

"You!" He looked at Anaia with a grand chuckle. "I can't believe it. You left me out there."

He was a mess. His clothing was in tatters and caked in dried blood, his hair soaked through with sweat. He even looked like he had somehow fallen into the sea. There was a gaping hole in his clothes, but none in his chest.

"Oh, you'll get over it." Anaia cracked a smile. "You always do."

"But... but I saved you!" Khel protested melodramatically, failing to hide a subtle smirk.

"Uh huh." Anaia replied quietly, shaking her head and smiling broadly now. "I'm sure you did."

Despite her facetious tone, she scooted over on the couch to make room for him.

Khel looked over at Will.

"And you!" He said loudly and simply, pointing. "I like you. I like your attitude."

As Khel walked over to the couch, he noticed that Anaia's right arm was buried behind her back, where Will knew from experience her dagger was hidden.

"Oh, not this again." He moaned crankily. "After tonight? Really?"

"A few good deeds do not undo a lifetime of misanthropy and murder."

"A few good deeds?" Khel cried out, his voice raising. "Small wonder I even bother."

"He did come in handy." Will pitched in.

"Don't hear any thank you's." Khel smiled.

He took up a seat right beside Anaia—a bit too close for her comfort. Dirt, grime, and dried blood stained the white leather straight away.

"There are showers in Achondria, you know." Anaia said, turning up her nose. Will couldn't help but suspect some of her disgust was less than sincere.

"So I've heard." Khel said, smiling. "But I've grown so accustomed to making you uncomfortable. Why stop now?"

Grace chuckled audibly.

Lewis began grinding his teeth. He didn't put down his empty pint.

"Oh, come now... what was your name, again?" Khel asked, indulging himself in a fresh pint of his own. "William, what was the name of your miserly friend there?"

He threw his feet up on the table.

"Well? I'm not going to get it on my own."

"Lewis." Will said protectively. "His name is Lewis."

"Ah, that's right. Lewis!" Khel replied, raising his voice with excitement. "Well, Lewis. I trust you're not still holding that torture incident against me. It was just the one time. I was in a hurry, you see. And I didn't leave any marks!"

"Oh, well if you were in a hurry..." Lewis grumbled.

"Oh, cheer up. You're fine, aren't you?" Khel said with a grin. "Have another pint. The day is won."

"Fine. Yeah. Okay. I'm still breathing, if that's what you're getting at."

"You are such a curmudgeon!" Khel exclaimed with a broad smile, staring at Lewis for a few seconds. He poked Lewis with his foot. "Don't sulk. Look at you. Not frozen to death. Not stabbed. Your situation has improved."

Lewis looked as glum as ever, remembering the night he met Khel.

As Khel saw this, his own smile faded quickly.

"Fair enough." Khel said with an air of sincerity. His expression turned somber. "Fair enough. These are trying times. The Legion is across the wall. No one thought they'd live to see it."

"You know, I'm almost inclined to believe you." Anaia said, turning her gaze upward to Khel. Her voice was honest—calm. "This is the most like a person you've ever seemed. It's impressive, really. You must have been practicing for this performance."

The facade returned. Khel cracked a wide smile.

"Oh you wound me!" He picked up her glass of white wine from the table with his mind and pulled it over to him. He took a sip, then returned it. "But you were too quick to judge before, I'm afraid. I wasn't after treasure... I didn't want a ring, or anything else, from that cave. I wanted to spend time with William, here!"

"Oh..." Anaia asked, melodrama in her tone now. She eyed her glass of wine with a combination of desire and frustration—as if contemplating reaching for it. "What were you to tell your master about him?"

Khel shook his head.

"I've spent the majority of my life in Valis. "But what about you? Have you ever crossed the wall? Do you know what Aru is like?"

More silence. The eyes of the room were upon Anaia. Finally, she shook her head.

"We don't cross the wall." She said quietly.

Khel's voice turned severe. "You don't. I see. So you don't know what it's like. You have no way of knowing the reasons for my decision."

"Khel, if this is another of your games..."

"It's not." He said seriously, leaning forward and taking a long swig, then setting the glass down and running his palms through dirty black hair. "We all have to die. It may as well be for the right reasons."

"That... didn't sound half-bad." Lewis said after a pause, looking up at Khel.

"Okay, then." Anaia said, distrust still bleeding through her voice. "Say I believe you. Now—for not much reason at all, that I can see—you've begun to regret all the murder and torture and various villainy you've written into our history books over the last century. Say all that is true."

"Mmmhmm." Khel said dispassionately, without looking away.

"So, I want information." She said. "Useful information. Troop numbers. Locations. Unit types. Mage and construct assignments. Your Avatar's plans."

Khel began to laugh. "What in the Old World makes you think I know all that?" He leaned back, defacing the white sofa again.

"You're Khel." She said quietly. "How could you not?"

He chuckled, chest heaving on the couch. "Oh my. You really don't know much at all, do you?" He sighed loudly. "I don't know if I should take it as a compliment that you hold me in such esteem, or be perturbed that my new allies are so ill-informed."

"Where is the Avatar now?" Will asked.

"I don't know." Khel again pulled Anaia's wine glass over to him. She began to reach up to stop him, but thought better of it. He took a long swig, draining it dry.

"I've been in Valis for a hundred years." He floated the glass back to the table. "I've not heard from him in all that time. And I haven't had contact with anyone from my side of the wall in months—since before your Sovereign went and killed herself."

"The Sovereign killed herself?" Julian, Grace, and Alar sat up straight in a second, asking Anaia and Will.

"No one lives forever." Will said softly.

"Someone remind the Avatar, then." Khel groaned under his breath. "Because if you don't figure out a way to deal with him, William, this is going to be a very short war. Your meaningless platitudes aren't going to have a lot of effect on our fearless leader when he shows up here wondering what happened to his legionaries."

"Oh, that is fantastic." Lewis said, halfway through another pastry. Will wasn't sure if it was a sarcastic remark directed to Khel, or just a commentary on the dessert.

"Well, one would think so, judging from the way you're all celebrating." Khel said darkly. "I just hope you have a plan."

"And you expect him to share it with you, do you?" Anaia asked.

"No, I expect him to have it." Khel said abruptly. "Any kind of plan... if he's even capable of that. I don't care if he tells me or not. Because you have weeks. If you're lucky."

"Whose side are you on?" Will asked, looking Khel in the eye. "Really?"

"Hopefully not the losing one."

Part 4 - Elysia

#

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#

# 

# Chapter 41 - The Westward Path

The narrow sliver of ground beneath gave way.

Lewis slipped and fell, grabbing hold of a patch of grass that clung to the cliffside. He looked down. He had a thousand feet to fall into craggy cliffs and a rocky ocean. Sweat poured from him, soaking his underarms. A blinding noontime sun filled his eyes.

"Help me, for God's sake." Lewis panted in desperation. "Come on, you idiot. Why are you just standing there?"

"Oh look, more drama." A low drawl called out from above. "You're not going to fall. Help yourself."

"So help me, Khel. When I get up there, I'm going to..."

"You're going to... what?" Khel began. "Your arms cannot even lift you a few feet from a cliffside. It's incredible that anyone so weak could survive to your age." His voice trailed off.

Lewis made a valiant effort to scale the two or three feet of cliff that separated him from the perilous path. It didn't help. His arms were weakening, his grip on the plant life failing.

"There was a time once, a hundred-fifty years ago, that reminds me a bit of today." Khel said, looking up. "The city of Adara mounted a rebellion against us."

"What?" Lewis yelled. "I'm hanging off a cliff, and you're giving me a history lesson?"

"There were fifty thousand. Organized bastards, too." Khel continued. He looked out at the ocean, admiring the view. "Relentless."

He smiled vaguely, then looked down at Lewis.

"The Adarans were feared across the land." Khel said, his voice speeding up as he crouched down. "Before the rebellion, they filled the Legion. The strongest, the fastest, the most cunning in all of Aru."

"When I get up there..." Lewis grumbled.

Lewis couldn't help but keep looking down. He didn't have the courage to try for the grass above him, but he had found a good handhold. He was no longer slipping.

"Do you know where they are now?" Khel said calmly. "Give you three guesses."

He got down onto his hands and knees and stared down at Lewis.

"What chance do you think you have?"

Khel got to his feet, turned, and began to walk away.

"Pathetic."

That was it for Lewis. He was going to find his way up the cliffside, if for nothing else than to hit that arrogant face with his bare hands. Without looking down he put one hand in front of the other, slipping several times but always regaining his grip. In seconds, Lewis had reached the top and pulled himself over the edge.

By this point, Khel had stepped back and was several paces away—almost to the vertical cliffside opposite the path.

Lewis leapt forward, launching himself forward in a fit of rage. He grabbed Khel's shirt and raised his fist, ready to strike.

"Wait!" Khel yelled just in time.

Lewis grabbed hold of his senses and stopped himself.

"Look." Khel gestured at the cliffside. "Look at what you did."

Lewis stopped, looking over the cliffside. He let Khel go.

"What is going on here?" Will asked, coming around the corner.

Lewis' arm was still raised.

"Nothing." The two said together.

Julian walked up behind with Grace, Anaia, Aria and Kira.

Aria scanned the lot of them, shook her head, then kept walking forward around the two as if nothing had happened. She took the lead, walking to the front of the group. Kira followed behind silently, trying to catch up.

Will kept staring. Lewis put his arm down. Khel shot him a devious smile. Lewis paused for a moment, then shot him a vague smile of his own. Appreciation.

"Well?" Will said. "Nice to see you resolving your differences. Now, if you don't mind?" He gestured ahead, where Aria pressed on without any thought to what was going on behind.

The group had spent the night in Achondria. But beyond that, Anaia had insisted on setting off the next morning. Thankfully, they had managed to avoid the attention of the city's populace, setting out at dawn with no fanfare and with no goodbyes—except to two of their own number.

Still, most of their talk had been about the road ahead. As Anaia had put it later that morning, "the Westward Path is short, but treacherous." In the two days since, Will had come to understand the truth in her words. It was a beautiful path, too. The ocean that had once been so novel to him was now a fact of life—a constant presence to their right. At first there had been no danger here. Beaches had lined the trail. Palm trees and lush hills. This place was paradise.

Soon, though, the path had turned. The soft, gentle sand had turned to rock. It had not been long before they faced cliffs—an ever-growing fall to the right. To the left, there was a solid wall, nearly vertical. They had to walk in single file.

In the here and now, Aria disappeared around a wall of rock twenty paces forward. Only a thin passageway clung to the cliff face. Three feet to the right was a sharp cliff and certain death. The sound of the crashing water was mesmerizing. Will wished he could bottle it up and carry it with him.

"I'm going to see her again." Lewis said quietly.

"What?" Will asked.

"Evelyn."

Will didn't know what to say.

"Her father wouldn't travel with Khel." Lewis continued. "They're going by ship. To Elysia, I mean."

"Lewis, I..."

"I know. You don't have to say anything."

"How would you ever find them again?" Will asked, without the heart to turn back. "There are thirty million people in Elysia."

"We picked a spot. A date to meet." Lewis said. "She'll be there. I know she will."

"Do either of you know where the spot is?"

"We'll find it." Lewis insisted.

Will turned back and met his friend's eye. Lewis' smile looked real enough.

"Alright." Will smiled back. "Okay. We'll get you there."

"You just wait until we get to this capital of yours." Khel snarled. "That newfangled rosy tune will be nothing if not short-lived."

Anaia glared at Khel. "We know you're a puppy on the inside, Khel."

He glared back.

The group turned the corner. The cliffside disappeared to a meadow of ankle-high grass, flowers, and palm trees. A soft breeze blew through the clearing, subtly moving the trees to and fro and carrying a gentle sound all around.

At first, Will didn't understand why Aria and Kira had stopped. Both stood still, gaping at something in the distance. A quiet gasp escaped Will's lips. Lewis and Julian ran into him, but they didn't turn back. More sounds of shock could be heard behind.

Just ahead, between two forested hills, the spires of Elysia rose through a cloud of mist.

#

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# Chapter 42 - The Elysian Fields

What Will saw was nothing like his memory of this place.

Dim grey coated the towers at the outer edge of the city, accented by black pock marks. The glass had shattered—cracked into web-like spirals and never repaired.

Where before woods, lakes, and parks surrounded the city, now a landscape of a different sort found a home.

A tent city surrounded and stifled the capital. The encampment wrapped all the way around the spires, several hundred tents deep. Thousands milled about down there. This was a second city all its own.

Elysia was sick. By the look of things, it had been for a while.

The wind shifted suddenly.

"Ah!" Grace shouted in disgust, covering her nose with her fingers. Julian, Kira, and Lewis soon did the same.

"Ah, yes." Khel shouted. "Get a good whiff of that! Welcome to our fair city, ladies and gentlemen. Enjoy your stay."

"Quiet."

Anaia stormed off to the front of the group.

"This is the capital." Grace said. "How did it get like this?"

"It's complicated." Anaia called back from the front.

"Okay..." Grace said, clearly unsatisfied with the equivocal response. "But who are all these people?"

"Folk looking for a home. They're from all over. Even Aru."

"Aru? You let the enemy onto your doorstep?" Julian spoke up. "Great plan."

"Yes, I thought so too." Khel beamed.

"These people want a new home. They have nowhere else." Anaia said, not looking back. "They're no more an enemy than any of us... Khel, here, notwithstanding."

"Me notwithstanding, of course." Khel turned with a wide grin.

"How do you explain the holes in the capital?" Julian pressed.

"The Legion uses these people." Her voice turned sour. "Hides among them like rats. Makes their agents almost impossible to find."

She shot Khel a fiery glare. He shrugged dramatically.

"Look what they've done to the city." Julian grumbled. "I've dreamed of seeing this place my whole life."

"These are hard times." Anaia said gently. "We look after each other. It's who we are."

The path leveled into a cobbled road. Verdant forests overtook them. An odd mix of palm, oak, willow, and birch—a clash between the tropical and temperate. Will heard birdsong, animal calls, and the wind's whisper in the branches above.

The trees opened up. What had been a field of tall grass interspersed with blooming flowers was now covered over with tents. Only fifty yards separated the tree line from the shantytown. The smell was nauseating. Will gagged quietly to himself.

The tent-city's inhabitants milled about on their way to get water from the nearby streams. Some began to take notice of the new arrivals. Chattering began—some in Elysian, some in Arunite. News spread like wildfire. A crowd formed—ten deep in all directions, then twenty.

Will rushed to the front of their group, ahead of Khel. A silence fell. It was almost eerie.

A man came out from the group. He was older. His paper-white beard reached beyond his chest, and his hair was tied in a top-knot. He wore the same worn, hand-me-down rags as everyone else here. But he commanded respect. Will could see why.

There was something different about this man—something that made one think before speaking to him. He was weathered. As if he had been through more than his share of hardship. There was a perseverance there, too.

As the man stepped forward onto the path in front of Will, the crowd all around kept growing. In minutes, the crowd held a thousand souls. There were more onlookers lurking behind every tent in sight. The tent-city was emptying. A silent tension hung in the air.

"We know who you are." The man said simply.

Will just stared. He had no idea what the man was talking about.

"We know why you're here." He continued simply. "We want to help."

Will took a moment, looking at the man and thinking of what to say next. The chance never came.

"Khel!" A terrified scream called out from the crowd.

Shouting erupted from all directions. The crowd brandished rakes, knives, spears. They were surrounded.

The leader raised his arm, then gently lowered it. The weapons disappeared. The voices silenced.

"Why have you brought this scourge here?"

"He saved my life." Will said, looking to Khel, who—to Will's surprise—had a solemn expression. It looked like shame. "He saved Achondria. He's with us."

"Do you know who this man is? What he is?" The leader said quietly, eyes growing wide. "What he's capable of?"

"I do." Will said. "He's on our side now."

Chattering resumed. But once again the group's leader raised his arm, and it died down a second time.

"We trust you." The man replied. Despite spooked looks from all around, that was the end of the matter. "We have no choice."

He gestured to the crowd all around.

"My name is Alexius. We are Elysians. You can count on our help."

"Thank you." Will said for want of anything better to say.

"Is she really gone?" Alexius asked. "The Sovereign?"

Will had no chance to answer before an explosion shattered the sky.

Shards of glass descended. Bodies fell left and right. The grass ran red with blood.

#

# 

# Chapter 43 - Quiet Nightmares Past

Aria stared at the ground. Her eyes grew wide. Tears came slowly.

Kira was pierced through the neck with a blade of glass. Her eyes were open and lifeless. A look of shock and surprise was seared across her face.

Grace cried out.

Julian's body was splayed out behind. Two pieces of crystal pierced him—one in the chest, the other in the abdomen. Blood was already beginning to pool.

Will ran to his side. Grace was already there.

"Jules. Jules... Look at me." Her voice was soft. Scattered. "It's going to be alright. Eyes on me. Eyes open. Jules..."

Julian focused on her. He couldn't speak. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes as they began to close.

"No. No, no, no." Grace sobbed. "I love you. I will always love you."

Julian struggled to get a word out, but only a low gurgle escaped his chest. He fought to keep his eyes open. But with every pained breath, they shut deeper. In moments, they closed altogether.

"Step aside." A deep, sober voice called out from behind.

It was Alexius.

Without another word, he knelt down and touched the two crystals protruding from Julian's torso. He closed his eyes.

"What are you doing?" Grace screamed, red with rage.

Alexius chanted in a foreign language. It was low, long, and soft—full of sorrow and regret. Not even Grace, the most perturbed by the intrusion, had the temerity to interrupt.

The two crystals that pierced Julian turned to sand and blew away into the wind.

Julian's wounds vanished.

A gasp pierced the cold afternoon.

#

# 

# Chapter 44 - Farewells

Julian sat up.

Everyone looked on as he took his first few breaths. Grace threw herself at him, holding him in her arms and weeping.

"What did you..." He whispered. "What happened?"

He looked down. His clothes were shredded, but he was fine.

"Fair wind and clear skies." With a smile, Alexius turned and was gone.

Grace held Julian so tightly that Will was worried he might break.

"The fourth art." Khel shook his head.

"Healing magic was lost." Anaia replied.

"Apparently not."

Will looked to Anaia with a puzzled expression.

A terrible weeping could be heard behind.

Will turned. His heart sank.

Aria kneeled at her aunt's side, holding Kira's pale, dead hand.

Tears streamed down her face, but there were no sobs, no sound. She just stared at her aunt's body.

Kira's eyes were open. Motionless. The expression of alarm was still plain on her face.

Will reached over and closed Kira's eyes.

"Don't touch her." Aria seethed.

"Aria..."

"You're pathetic."

Will was silent.

"What were you thinking... bringing us here?"

"I know." He said quietly.

"You know?" She exploded.

Anaia, Khel, Julian, and Grace approached, keeping a discreet distance.

"What do you know? Tell me what you know."

Will said nothing.

"I'm the only one left." Aria's voice dropped to a whisper. "My home is gone. My family is one. Everyone I know is gone."

"We don't know that." Will replied, turning to comfort her. "There were a dozen back in Reverie."

Aria laughed cruelly.

"Don't insult me. We left them behind."

Anaia sat down on Aria's other side, joined shortly by Lewis and Khel. For once, the two didn't seemed to mind each other's company. Julian and Grace sat down on the other side.

"Oh, it's you." Aria looked at Julian. "You survived. That's nice."

"This is not a kind age." Anaia said.

Khel sat down next to Aria.

"Think of it like this, little one." His voice was an off-putting mix of compassion and wrath. "The ones who did this to your family are still out there. You can do something about that. Will you?"

Aria waited for a second, staring at Khel. After a moment or two, she dusted herself off and climbed to her feet. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and looked to the path ahead.

"What's next?" All emotion was gone from her voice.

"Of course she listens to him." Lewis grumbled.

Grace walked over to Aria and tried to give her a hug. Aria backed away for a moment. But a second later she rushed into her arms.

"What about Kira?" Will asked after Aria stepped back, wiping the tears away.

"What do you mean?" Aria replied coldly. "She's gone."

"The Guard has a tradition. It would be appropriate."

She looked to Aria, who nodded after a moment.

"Stand back." Anaia warned.

Anaia stepped forward and raised her hand. A blinding light appeared where Kira had been. It shot into the sky and shattered into a thousand pieces.

The group moved off in silence.

#

#

#

#

#

# 

# Chapter 45 - Lonely Streets

Elysia was still. Their group was the only source of sound or movement.

The sound of their own footsteps bounced off of every building, dissipating into the distant birdsong. It was surreal—to hear so little in a city of this size. There should have been voices—a background chorus of trade, music, even simple conversation. There was nothing.

They had spent the better part of the last hour tending to the wounded before moving to the city center. Blood covered everyone now, together with sweat and misery.

"All those people..." Grace murmured to herself.

Will looked down at his hands, caked in dried blood. There were so many dead. The looks on their faces stuck in his mind. They had all looked... optimistic. Hopeful. As if his arrival here was going to set things right.

"Not what you expected?" Lewis said quietly, looking to Will.

Will looked to his friend. Dark circles hovered below Lewis' eyes. He looked pale, exhausted, emaciated. Still, he made an effort to cheer Will, forcing a smile.

"I spent my whole life waiting to see beyond Haven Valley." Will said to him. "Past the hazy ridges."

"Things don't always turn out the way we expect." Lewis responded in a soft tone. "But you can't forget to look up."

Lewis pointed above his head.

Spires pierced the sky. Hovering platforms of quartz and glass rose between, with trees and gardens. Mist rose from artificial waterfalls, shimmering in the light of the sun.

Still, Will's eyes fell. These streets were too quiet. The road was a good hundred feet wide. Flora of all different colors and types sprouted at the center of the walkway—willows, aspens, palms. Some were unnaturally tall, stretching hundreds of feet into the sky. The place had a feeling of lost grandness. It had been built for some thousands. Yet there was no one.

"Where are all the people?" Julian asked in a hushed whisper.

"Inside." Anaia replied cryptically, not bothering to keep her voice low. It echoed down the road, off the buildings. "Above. Out of sight. No one comes to the streets. Not anymore."

"Uh... why?" Lewis asked, eyes wide.

"The promenades of Elysia were the envy of Valis." She continued. "The streetside bazaars sold anything to be found in the four corners. Travelers used to come from all parts—even overseas—just to look at the stalls."

She paused for a moment.

"That ended when I was a girl." She said softly. "Now? Well, this is typical. Elysia is home to thirty million. But the streets are not much more than a memory."

"What happened?" Julian asked, keeping his voice to a whisper—as though someone inside might be listening.

"It was the pixies." Khel quipped. This earned him a glare from Anaia.

"What?" Grace asked, taking his words at face value. Julian shot Khel a bizarre look.

"Why do you think?" He asked in a more serious tone. "You have eyes. You saw where we just came from. People are scared."

"Most of the commerce takes place on the upper levels now." Anaia said quietly. "Elysia is still very much alive. But it's not the same place it used to be."

Before Will realized it, they had reached the city center.

The Crystal Spire stood out—unsullied, untarnished by time. Its sharp, twisting form carved into the heavens. It was hard to imagine that anything made by the hand of men or women could reach so high.

Anaia led them into the spire via an arching entryway above the road. What Will saw tore the last hope from his heart.

The formerly teeming village within the tower's base was now abandoned.

The surrounding park was wildly overgrown. It looked more like a forest now, complete with waist-high weeds and impassable brush. The old town was in an advanced state of decay. Some buildings were boarded up. Others had been left to fall—brick by brick. Many were little more than ruined piles of stone.

The smell was that of old, rotted wood—pungent, sweet, caustic. Every now and then the wind would gust in another direction, and fresh air from the lake opposite would blow by, relieving Will's nostrils. But it was only temporary. The stench of decomposition had settled on this place.

The distant streams and the nearby lake could still be heard. Otherwise, silence reigned.

"What happened?" Will asked no one in particular.

"What do you mean? It's the Spire." Anaia said coldly, with a hint of confusion. "No one comes here."

Will ran to one of the buildings at the side of the empty road.

"Where are you going?" She asked in a tired tone, hurrying after him.

The windows were boarded up. The door was off its hinges, mostly rotted away. But it was still recognizable, if only because he had seen it in perfect condition only a few days before—at least from his perspective.

Will wiped the caked dust off the sign in front with his hand, then immediately regretted it. It was all over his hand now—a thick, dark-grey film that would not come off.

The sign said exactly what he hoped it wouldn't.

Enchanting Universe Bookshop

Discovering a Universe of Possibility

Will telekinetically moved the old, rotted door to the side.

The smell inside was sickening.

The books had been left here. All of them. Some remained on the shelves, but most were strewn about the floor. Some had been ripped apart, others burned to a crisp. They were all rotting—being gradually consumed by time.

Will heard steps behind. He turned back.

Lewis had followed him into the ruined bookshop.

"How did you know?" Lewis asked under his breath. His voice quivered.

"What?"

"Did she tell you?" Lewis was pale. His eyes grew wide as he surveyed the remnants of the bookshop.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Will responded quietly, confused.

"This is where we were going to meet." He shook his head. "Evelyn. I was going to see her here tomorrow." He shook his head with a sigh. "What happened to this place?"

"I don't know." Will replied simply.

The others caught up, entering the room one by one. Anaia was first.

"Will." She called out impatiently. "What are we doing here?"

"We're leaving." Lewis said, steeling himself and walking out the door.

#

#

#

# 

# Chapter 46 - Ascent

"These stairs go on forever." Lewis groaned.

"Do you ever stop speaking?" Aria snapped, looking back.

"Hey..." Will cut her off.

"You know who you're sounding like?" Lewis asked.

"Lewis..." Will warned his friend.

"Alright." Lewis said. "But this is ridiculous. If they want to build this tall, fine. More power to them. But at least put in a damned lift."

"If you wanted to take the lift, all you had to do was ask." Anaia said coyly.

"Are you serious right now?" Lewis asked, looking up at her with a mix of exasperation and relief in his eyes. He used his sleeve to wipe the dripping sweat off his brow. "You can't be serious."

"What?" She asked. "No one asked me. Will's been leading us up the stairs. The lift works just as well."

"We just climbed a hundred flights." Lewis yelled.

"What did I promise was going to happen to complainers?" Khel's growling tone echoed back from the front of the group.

Will cleared his throat.

Anaia walked to the center of the wide spiral stair—the same one Elle had kicked Will into a millennium ago. She drew her hand across it. The crystal lit up, and the outline of a door appeared. A cylindrical lift appeared from below.

"Thank God." Lewis grumbled. "You." He pointed at Anaia. "I'm going to kill you."

"I should warn you." She grinned. "The last person to threaten to kill me ended up catching fire."

"That'd be me." Khel raised his hand. "It was worth it."

An outline of the tower appeared in the lift's center, projected in three-dimensional light. Anaia walked up to it and touched her finger to the top of the projection.

"See those handles?" She asked, without waiting for an answer. "Grab hold of them."

Everyone did as they were told—even Khel.

The floor launched upward. Floors flew by. The lift soon offered a view of everything from the spires and hovering parks of the city to the falls at the coastline, to the rolling hills and mountains in the distance.

Seconds later, the lift stopped, and the door appeared with a hiss.

"What a rush." Julian said, wandering to the door, holding Grace's hand tightly.

"Beats another thousand stairs." Lewis sighed with a smile. They stepped forward, and he drew quiet.

They found themselves where Will had a thousand years ago—between rows of silver-white trees on a dark-blue carpet, in the spire's center. Footsteps echoed across the marble and into the recesses of the crystal above.

"What is this place?" Grace murmured.

Julian turned to the left. He looked towards the ocean, across the towers, to the waterfalls beyond.

"Enjoy it while you can." Khel turned towards the throne.

Everyone stared, taken aback.

"Ever the optimist." Lewis quipped.

"What?" Khel shouted to himself, continuing to saunter towards the far end of the vast space. "Do you think your architecture will save you?"

Will rushed to follow. Khel didn't even look back.

"Let me ask you a question." Khel announced, voice echoing gracelessly through the hall above. "What is to stop the Avatar from appearing right here? Right... now?"

He snapped his fingers. A flash of fire erupted there, then vanished.

Anaia appeared at Will's side, glaring.

"You can't Blink into Elysia. There are inhibitors through the city to prevent that. Have been for a thousand years."

Khel threw himself across the throne, carelessly kicking his feet over the handrails.

"Out." Anaia ordered.

Khel leapt out of the chair.

Everyone gathered around one of the nearby tables.

"Will, a moment?" Anaia said quietly, walking walked him over to the throne—a good twenty feet off—and out of earshot of the group.

"I've called our military advisors to this room."

"Okay." Will stared. "Why did you..."

"At that table is a creature that has tormented Valis for the last century. He has killed dozens of our best magi, never showing the slightest hint of remorse. Now, for reasons unknown, he's had a sudden, timely change of heart."

"Khel?" Will asked, surprised. "This again?"

"Khel is the most devious adversary I have ever faced. He lies without a tell. He kills without mercy or regret. He is the most effective magic user I've ever encountered."

She paused for a moment.

Will looked at Khel. Khel looked straight back. Nothing was lost on him. His slight, wily grin did not inspire confidence.

"He's saved our lives, twice now." Will said quietly, purposefully. "Why would he do that if he were still working for them?"

Anaia took Will by the shoulder and walked him even further from the advisors' table.

"I've told you this before." She said softly. "There's an endgame with him. Always."

Will shot another glance back at Khel. He returned a wide, disconcerting grin.

"No." Will kept his voice quiet. "We need all the help we can get."

Anaia sighed in quiet disappointment.

"Remember this moment."

She walked away in silence.

#

# 

# Chapter 47 - Contingency

Khel leaned back, smirking at Anaia and throwing his feet on the advisors' table.

"This ought to be interesting."

"Wasn't my idea." Anaia replied coldly.

"But that's just what you want him to think, isn't it?" Khel grinned mischievously. "We know better."

A hissing called out at the end of the hall, followed by a click as the lift door opened. Three military figures in dress uniform started down the carpet towards the throne platform.

They stopped as they reached the advisors' table.

"What is this?" The one in front said slowly and deliberately. She glared at Khel—eyes like daggers.

She was a soldier—young, slender, muscular, and tall—taller, even, than Khel. Her eyes were hazel and fiery. Black hair was pulled tight into a braid across her back. Her dark face bore at least three scars. She wore a curved sword, and Will had no doubt that was not the only weapon concealed beneath her long white coat.

"You don't know the enemy when you see him, Lockwood?" The man just behind laughed to himself. "I'd have thought you'd learned to recognize him by now."

A long, grey beard graced the second man's face. It looked like he never trimmed it. He was short, with a stout frame and thick arms. His knee-length fur coat would not have looked out of place on the deck of a navy vessel. He wore a sailor's cap, too. Will wasn't quite sure how it stayed on with the wild brown mane bursting out from under it. He had leathery skin. His brown eyes bore a dark, yet jovial expression.

"Anaia." Lockwood—the first advisor—responded in a low growl, eyes not moving one bit. "Answer me."

"Now, now, General." A third figure emerged—elderly and serene. "I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation."

The third advisor's appearance was full of strange contradictions.

On one hand, he looked the part of learned, old man. He wore a bright-white robe—one so long that it dragged on the floor. His face was wrinkled and worn. Both his beard and his hair were sheet-white and down to his chest, at least—tied into neat ponytails. But he gave the appearance of youth. He walked with the energy of a young man. And there was something about those sparkling blue eyes hidden behind the rimless glasses—an intensity—a powerful mind at play. Will wasn't sure if the glasses were for distance, close-up, or just decoration. Half the time he seemed to look over them anyway.

"I've yet to hear it, Aladrian." Lockwood's voice had fallen into a slow snarl. She leered at Khel with furious hatred. These two had met before.

Khel shot her a cunning grin. He raised a hand. At first Will thought he was going to attack. But he just waved his fingers backward and forward—teasing her like a child.

"Khel is with me." Will announced to the three of them.

"Who the hell are you?" Lockwood asked, keeping her eyes on Khel. She inched gradually closer, moving her hands out of sight, underneath the coat—coiling like a snake.

"This is the Sovereign." Anaia said quietly.

Lockwood scoffed loudly.

"So it is true." Aladrian said under his breath.

Khel's devious grin grew to a breaking point. He let a tiny plume of flame escape his hand. It wasn't much—just enough to spook Lockwood.

A fan of shaftless blades escaped her hands, one after the other—all hurling with deadly accuracy towards the center of Khel's forehead.

They stopped all at once, hovering not half an inch in front of his face, arranged in a perfect circle. His eyes grew steadily wider as they focused on one blade after the other. He looked to Will—an expression of combined terror and amusement across his face.

"You make friends wherever you go." Lewis quipped quietly.

Khel shot him a wide-eyed grin.

Aladrian held up his hand. The blades quivered in the air for a moment, then hovered over to him. He reached out and collected them, then handed them back to Lockwood.

Lockwood seethed. She couldn't take her eyes off of Khel—even as she collected the knives from Aladrian and then returned the needle-like blades to her coat, one after the other.

"Well!" The second man announced. He reminded Will of an old sailor. "That was fun. I'm Admiral Paranel. Pleased to meet you folks. See you've become acquainted with General Lockwood and Archon Aladrian."

Lockwood snarled. Khel had stopped toying with her, for now.

"You're the new Sovereign?" Lockwood looked at Will the way a wolf might look at a mouse. "We're so done for."

"Sit down." Anaia's voice boomed low and harsh.

A few seconds later, everyone took seats around the table.

"Do you even know who that is?" Lockwood scoffed in Khel's direction.

Khel gave a sly wink.

"He's here because he saved our lives. He betrayed his people and got ten thousand of his own killed. He can help us."

"Right. Ok. See he's got you right where he wants you." Lockwood's eyes bored into Will. "Ten thousand dead for access to this room is a net positive for him."

"This is not your decision." Anaia's tone was slow and deliberate.

"Like hell." She responded in a low growl. "You can all sit here and play along if you like. I won't be party to treason."

"Sit down." Anaia repeated, even more slowly and insistently.

Lockwood ignored her. She continued to rise from the chair.

But a second later, she hurled back against it, sending the chair pulling against the floor underneath with a terrible scraping sound that echoed throughout the spire.

Lockwood boiled in rage, but she said nothing.

"How can you sit here in front of him? Share our secrets with him?" Lockwood surged forward, voice little more than a whisper. "You know who he is better than anyone, Anaia. You put a stop to this."

"It's done." Anaia said through clenched teeth, leaning back and crossing her arms—but keeping one of them at the ready in case Lockwood tried anything.

"Not that it really matters, anyway, as soon as... his boss shows up." Lockwood wasn't referring to Khel.

"Who?" Grace spoke up involuntarily, with no regard for decorum. "This Avatar character?"

Everyone stared, as though taken aback by the simplicity of the question.

"Are you really going to tell me this guy could beat every soldier in the city? By himself?" She continued. "What kind of military is this?"

Khel grinned wider than ever.

"No." Aladrian answered. "He could turn us to dust before we had a chance to fight."

"Well, why can't Will, here, do that?" Grace asked.

"What a fantastic question." Khel roared. "Sure would be nice if our new Sovereign could... oh, I don't know, do a bit of magic?"

"The Arcstones are unique, even among Highcraft. They operate continuously, raising the limits of what a mage can do." Aladrian explained. "The longer Will holds onto the Stone, the higher his feedback threshold will be—the more magic he'll be able to perform."

"I'm sorry, feedback?" Will asked.

"Tell me you didn't forget your first lesson." Anaia snapped.

Will grinned. "Trying to keep a sense of humor."

Anaia glared.

"That's what makes the Avatar so dangerous." Aladrian continued. "He's had the other Stone for thousands of years."

"Okay, so how much difference will a few more days make for Will?" Lewis asked.

"Haven't the foggiest." Aladrian said quietly.

Will looked around the room. "What can we do?"

"Run." Lockwood said quietly. "There's your plan. You run, and hide. You get as many people as far away from here as you can. You put them on ships and hope they never see these shores for as long as they draw breath."

Silence took the room.

"Cheerful." Lewis grumbled.

"Anyone... else?" Will asked.

More silence.

"The problem is, you're the only person who has any chance of ending this." Aladrian said softly to Will. "There are two stones. One cancels the other out. You must see where this is going."

"That's suicide." Lewis said quietly.

"That's the way of things." Aladrian said gently.

Lewis scoffed.

"You're talking about fighting this immortal deity of darkness you're all so afraid of? You? Will Darkwood? Guy who capsized the fishing boat when he hooked an oversized trout?"

"I don't like it either." Will responded in a soft voice.

Lewis shook his head. "You're delusional. I'm the one who had to pull you out of that water."

"Isn't there anything we can do to even the odds?" Will asked, looking from Anaia and Aladrian.

"Not really." Anaia said quietly.

"There's Nuthien." Aladrian said matter-of-factly.

"What's that going to do?" Anaia asked, staring.

"Something is better than nothing?"

"Grand strategists you are." Khel chortled. "You'll have them quaking in their boots."

At this, Lockwood looked as though she might burst upward from her chair. Once again, her hands were gone from sight, concealed underneath her coat.

"What's Nuthien?" Will asked, ignoring Khel.

"Fortress-city on the Southern Sea, by the wall." Anaia explained.

"And... how does that help us?" Will asked matter-of-factly.

"They always have a few tricks up their sleeves."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"No one knows. Secret weapons, off-the books recruitment, contingency planning. Rumors, mostly." Aladrian said. "No one ever comes back from that place."

"Great." Lewis grumbled.

"You go on deluding yourselves." Khel continued, angrily muttering to himself as though no one else were in the room. "Secret weapons... hidden contingency plans... There's a word for that kind of talk. Let's see... Denial."

Silence.

"You've never dealt with him before." Khel said slowly. "No weapon in this world will matter when he shows up."

His gaze fixed on Will.

"That gem you're wearing is the only thing that might make a difference."

"So, Will can take it off." Lewis said under his breath. "Give it to someone who knows how to fight."

"I can't." Will said quietly.

"Of course you can." Lewis replied with defiance. "Take that thing off. Reach down and pull it off your neck. Same as she did."

The room grew even more still.

"I've tried."

"No, you haven't." Lewis' voice was earnest and insistent. "You don't want to be rid of this. How could you? Look at where we are. How could Haven possibly compare to... this?"

"That's not what this is about." Will whispered. "This is bigger than you and me."

"Nothing's bigger than you anymore."

"What's that mean?" Will asked.

"It means I'll have no more part in this." Lewis said softly. "You're my best friend. But I'll not help you kill yourself."

"Lewis..."

Lewis stood up from the table. Without a glance back, he walked back to the lift.

#

# 

# Chapter 48 - Absence

"No." Anaia pulled Will off the path. "You need to listen to me."

To her side was a tall, full-leafed willow. They stood in the center of a grass-filled platform suspended in the air.

"We'll catch up." Will nodded quickly to Julian, Grace, and Aria, shooting a look at their destination in the distance.

Aria scoffed and stormed off. Grace shrugged. She and Julian followed behind.

Half a mile ahead was a singular, massive sailing vessel hovering inexplicably in the air alongside the spires, waiting for them. Even at this distance, it towered over the walkway and surrounding parks.

Anaia turned to Will.

"What in all the Old World do you think you're doing?" She hissed.

Will stared, mouth open.

"You're going to leave Lewis behind?" She asked, tone transforming from harsh to tender. "Your best friend."

"Were you not listening back there?" Will replied without thinking. "It's done. He's gone." He immediately regretted doubling down.

With a brilliant flash of light and cracks of sound, three mage guards appeared in front of Will. They wore same robes as Anaia. Looks of panic were plastered across their faces.

They bore a fourth figure in tow, looking despondent. It was the leader from the shantytowns below—Alexius.

"How did you...?" Anaia asked, confused. She introduced the newcomers. "Will Darkwood—Kyla Alashan, Idria Thera, and Sinead Cullen. Sovereign Guard."

"It's gone." Kyla, the one in front said immediately, voice carrying a sudden urgency. "The central inhibitor. Base of the Spire."

A surge of anxiety gripped Will.

"We found this Arunite milling about nearby." Sinead's voice was full of confidence and suspicion.

"Hold on a minute. What do you mean gone?" Anaia stared.

"It's not here anymore." Kyla replied. "Not where it should be. And as you can see, it's not working."

"Get everyone together." Anaia said curtly. "We need to find it."

"Could be something innocent." Kyla said. "But then again..."

"Stop. Stop—just stop for a second." Anaia said, a look of dread filling her face. "Where is Khel?"

Will stared. "He said he had something to take care of and would meet us at the pier."

"Someone call my name?" A familiar gravelly voice called out behind. Everyone turned. Khel stood right behind them.

The three magi recoiled, as if they had come upon a grizzly bear.

"Hi." Khel said to the guards and their prisoner, with a sly grin.

"You!" Alexius called out in an abrupt bout of rage.

"And where have you been?" Anaia asked.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean." Khel took a bite out of an apple in his hand.

"Where did you get an apple, anyway?" Will asked.

"I saw you take the inhibitor." Alexius cried out to Khel, nearly shouting. "Don't even try to deny it. Then, he took your comrade." It wasn't clear who he was meant to refer to.

"Slow down." Will asked Alexius. "He took someone? Who's he? And what... comrade? What are you talking about?"

"He... who do you think?"

"The Avatar?" Will felt a surge of panic. "The Avatar was here?"

Alexius nodded.

"And he took someone?" Will asked. "Who?"

"The man." Alexius said, obviously struggling with the Elysian language. "The young man. You..." He pointed to Will. "You were with him before."

"Lewis." Will stumbled.

"Misplaced your friend, have you?" Khel turned to Will callously. "How embarrassing." He took another bite.

Will turned slowly to Khel.

"What have you done?" Will made an effort to keep his voice steady, but it still shook. He approached Khel slowly, bits of blue flame involuntarily appearing in his palms.

The callous look vanished from Khel's face immediately.

"Will, I..." Khel started. "I don't know where Lewis is." There was more earnestness in his face and voice than Will had ever seen there before. It almost looked like contrition.

"Was it you he saw?" Will asked, calming down just enough to stop his voice from shaking.

"No." Khel replied simply.

He looked honest enough. But with him, there was no way to tell. Khel was so practiced a liar that Will would never be able to discern fact from fiction just by looking at him, or by hearing his voice. There were times he wasn't even sure Khel knew the difference.

"I stopped by the open-air market on the forty-second level to get some produce for the trip." He held up a small transparent bag of mostly apples and oranges. Again, the slightest hint of a grin lit up his eyes.

"Liar!" Alexius shouted, straining at his metal restraints.

"Release him." Will ordered the guards, nodding at Alexius.

They took off the restraints. Will half-expected the man to lunge at Khel, but he maintained his composure.

"Will, did Lewis give you any hint as to where he was going?" Anaia asked simply.

Will shook his head.

Anaia closed her eyes, as if meditating. Ten seconds passed in silence, then twenty.

Finally, she sighed.

"Lewis is not in the city." Anaia said with finality.

#

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# Chapter 49 - The Eastward Journey

"There is no other option." Will insisted.

Anaia and Khel exchanged a furtive glance, as if considering what to say next.

"I like you." Khel looked at Will.

"When are you going to start listening to me?" Anaia looked at Will as though he were losing his mind.

"Well, if you weren't so predictably austere all the time, people might listen more often." Khel said with a glint in his eye.

"Now might be a good time for you to shut your mouth." Anaia hissed.

"I didn't do anything." Khel replied. Again, the sincerity in his voice was compelling.

"I have to face up to this one way or another." Will said softly. "What difference does it make whether it's here, or in Aru?"

"There's a reason people like to pretend Aru doesn't exist. That they black it out on our maps." Anaia said gravely. "Nobody comes back from that country."

"We'd be an exception, then." Will said cavalierly. "I've got you to look after me."

"The Avatar wants you to come to him—whatever the reason might be." Anaia replied. "By going to get Lewis back, you're doing exactly what he wants."

"Would you really leave him there?"

"Let me just make sure I understand you properly." Anaia said. "You're going over to that airship at the end of the pier. And you're going to... what, have the captain fly to Elaneth? The enemy capital—seat of the Avatar's power, three thousand miles away. Does that about cover it?"

A stillness took the park for a few moments, leaving only a gentle breeze and the sound of birds.

"It's a little further off than Nuthien." Anaia added. "It's a bad idea, Will."

"I like it." Khel said, with a sideways smile. "The first good idea out of this guy. We should celebrate."

Anaia shook her head.

"I'm not leaving my friend to die." Will said.

"You're ridiculous. And it's going to get you killed." Khel scoffed loudly, but he couldn't hide a slight grin of admiration. "But you've got some nerve. And I'm going to be there when you die."

"If we're really going to do this, Paranel's idea will be a good one." Anaia added.

"Yes." Khel said. "The peons work harder with full bellies."

Anaia couldn't help but crack a smile. "Peons?"

#

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# Chapter 50 - August Dawn

"So let me get this straight."

Captain Everett Tiberian of the E.A.S. August Dawn greeted them on the airship's deck. Something less than enthusiasm dripped from his voice.

He was a large man, and his belly was the largest part of him. His beard was the second most salient. It was arranged in a braid, wrapping nearly to his chest. His hair was almost as long, but not nearly as neat. It came down to his shoulder—brown, frenzied, unkempt. It shot out from under his dark blue captain's hat like a force of nature. At nearly six foot four, the man was the authority on this boat, no matter who else might step on board.

"We're going straight into the belly of the beast. Elaneth. Capital of Aru. No backup. No plan. Just you, your guards, your friends, and this... infamous bastard." He gestured at Khel. "Whose face still graces every wanted poster in the city. Wonderful."

He shook his head, taking a long swig of a steel flask from his jacket.

"This is a bad idea." The captain's voice was sullen and defiant. "And... Hey, stop! What's in those crates? Nothing gets on my ship without my knowing what's inside."

"I thought that might be your reaction." Will paused. "Heard that sailors might react kindly to some decent meals on a dangerous voyage."

"We're provisioned." The captain's voice was raising to a boom. "What's the meaning of this?"

"I think you'll find what we have to offer... an improvement." Will pointed to the crates with a smile. "Bacon. Eggs. Biscuits. Spices and sauces, gourmet pastas and breads, meats and cheeses... fruits and berries, juices... coffees of several beans... and last but not least, ales and rums of the finest breweries and distilleries in Valis."

Several of the crewmembers standing beside the captain beamed. They caught the captain's eye, and he couldn't help but relax his posture.

"Oh, and did I mention that the man standing behind me is head chef of one of the finest restaurants in the First District?" Will asked, a smile curling up his lips. "He will be accompanying us. I must have mentioned that..."

Without another word, the chef walked past the flabbergasted captain—who couldn't help but broadcast that he'd been disarmed—and waved back to helpers who were moving the crates filled to the brim with food and alcohol.

"Wait, don't go too fast." The captain called after them, followed by several of his men. "We need to... inspect those crates."

"Good man, that Paranel." Julian said.

"He knows his men." Will added.

"He knows people." Julian responded, watching the last of the crates descend the steps into the airship's lower decks. "I think I'll go do some inspecting of my own." He started off towards the entrance to the hold.

Grace took his hand. "Think they have any champagne?" She shot him a wry grin. "Remember that night we snuck into the Morgana Manor?"

"Like I could forget?" He pulled her closer, looking into her eyes. "Two Undercity orphans in that place?"

"Yes, yes. I'm sure it was fascinating." Aria's cynical voice rang out.

The ship was about the same size as the largest tall ships they had encountered at Achondria—350 feet long, with an 80-foot beam and a 50-foot draught. But unlike the Achondrian ships, there were no straight lines in the August Dawn's design. The outer hull of the airship was a matte-white metal. The deck was wood—darker in color—covered in a white, angled shade, suspended above.

Great, curved masts of white metal towered above, with room for overlapping, interconnected sails to unfurl. The masts were elaborate—shooting out to the sides and the bottom of the ship—almost in the shape of wings, but angled down. There was no ballast tank above, nor were there any other visible means of keeping the ship in the air.

"Anaia." Will called out. "What keeps this thing...?"

"In the air?" She responded with a grin. "Surely you've learned a thing or two by now."

"So... what, there's a mage inside that keeps it off the ground?"

She shook her head and grinned. "Think bigger."

"What's that mean?" Will asked.

"Not all the old Highcraft relics are in the schools." She explained. "Like the Arunites, we put some to practical purposes." She looked back at Khel, paced back and forth on the deck, staring up at the masts. "Ours aren't quite so macabre. And the results are more useful."

"I heard that." Khel murmured, leaning against the mast. "Macabre. So this is what I get for saving your lives... twice. For getting impaled with icicles. Ingrates!"

"I'd be more inclined towards delicacy if you hadn't murdered my mentor."

"Murder? She tried to kill me." Khel nearly shouted. "What was I supposed to do, lay down and die?" He ran his hand down the scar that ran across his face—from his temple to below his ear.

"Yes, yes. You came away with a scar." Anaia bickered. "I'm sure that's diminished your quality of life."

"I'd say I'm doing alright, for a three-hundred-year-old." Khel said with a smile. "You're doing okay, too, it seems. Thanks to me. But did I ever get a 'thanks, Khel, for saving my life from a deadly snowstorm?' Or a 'thanks, Khel for pulling those magi off of me, getting impaled in the process?' Hmm..." He cocked his head to the side, feigning concentration. "I can't seem to remember. Must be my old age."

"This is going to be a long trip." Anaia groaned.

"Well?" The captain said, looking around to the sailors. "What are we all standing around for? Sooner we get going, sooner your duty shifts stop overlapping. I seem to remember a case of Achondrian rum downstairs."

The crew stepped to, moving to the masts and the moorings with military efficiency. Men and women in uniform flew by, one after another. Ropes were tied, sails unfurled. The ship itself heaved back.

"We ready?" Captain Tiberian yelled, a grin washing over his face. "Let's do this. Before I come to my senses..." He added the last bit under his breath.

The ship began a steady, gradual departure from its aerial moorings. There was no heaving to and fro, as one would experience at sea. The ship steadfastly glided forward on the wind, pulling away from the city at a continuous pace.

It was not long before the crystal spires of Elysia passed into the last vestiges of magenta twilight behind.

Part 5 - Valis

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# Chapter 51 - Sailing the Western Sky

Will stood alone at the ship's bow, feeling the wind on his face. Icy breeze blew past his ears. Fog raced across the deck. Massive, interconnected sails billowed above and behind.

Lanterns had flickered on of their own accord as soon as night fell. The whole deck had an eerie feel to it now. Will was alone up here. Or so he thought.

"It's freezing." A voice called out to his side. "What's gotten into you?"

Will leaned forward onto the bow as Anaia approached.

"He was right. Lewis." Will continued. "I've met this enemy of yours. I don't know what I'm doing here."

Anaia shook her head. She was silent for ten seconds before responding.

"We'll do what we can, Will. It was only ever a fool's hope."

A spike of adrenaline ran through Will as a low voice called through the wind.

"You Elysians are incredible." Khel growled through the fog. "You maintain the pinnacle of civilization with that attitude?"

"How would you put it, then?" Anaia snapped, not missing a beat. "You know what we're up against."

Khel pushed his way beside the two of them, closer to Anaia than to Will.

"None better. But if you accept what's coming, you deserve it." Khel barked. "You can be the sort who lets things happen, or the sort who makes them happen. It doesn't matter if you were the right pick. If you want this. You don't get any say. You do your job. That's the beginning and the end of it."

Khel's eyes bored into Will. The assassin shook his head.

"I don't know what you're doing here any better than you do. But I'm getting tired of your excuses. 'Failure wouldn't be so bad.' 'It was just a fool's hope anyway.' Sorry, bucko. The fall of Valis would be worse than you know."

Now Anaia was staring, too.

"You know..." Will started. "That doesn't even make sense. You spend a hundred years fighting with them, and now you switch sides? What is that?"

"Will..." Anaia interrupted.

"No, I want to hear this."

Silence took the deck.

"You wouldn't understand." Khel replied simply.

"Try me."

"It's dull." Khel turned his head away.

"That's it?"

"That's plenty. An empire of sameness. Of the prosaic and the mundane." Khel said. "If we fail, you can say goodbye to your art, your architecture—your writing, history, culture. It will be gone. Everything will be the same. Unity is so boring."

He paused for a moment, looking down.

"I have no time for you. This is bigger than you. Bigger than your whining. Bigger than your rationalizing. And bigger than your miserable, missing friend."

Before Will could react, another voice called out behind. This one was a little more upbeat.

"Ah, would you look at that?" Captain Tiberian's distinctive accent called out of the darkness. "My favorite nighttime spot's been discovered. By three of you, no less."

He stepped forward, revealing a massive fur coat. Once he reached the bow, he took a long swig out of a metal flask.

"Damned cold up here." He continued. "Wind helps me think. That, and rum. Good thing you did, bringing all that grub and booze. There's been talk down below. Elaneth isn't a course every sailor is ready to set."

"No." Anaia replied.

"The whole damned world's turned upside-down." He looked to Anaia, expression turning sincere. "Think we've got a shot?"

"A fool's, maybe." She looked to Khel with a smile.

"Hence, the rum." The captain shouted into the wind.

He took another swig, gales blowing back his hair. He looked to Khel, sizing him up.

"We will see what happens." Khel grinned, eyes fiery.

"We have a job to do." The captain returned Khel's steely gaze. "You get in the way..."

He gestured that he would hurl Khel overboard.

Khel grinned even wider.

"Why don't I offer you folks the tour?" Tiberian turned away quickly, gesturing for them to follow. "Losing feeling in my face."

The three followed the captain across the surprisingly steady deck. The thick oak door Tiberian opened led to another room—an entryway. A blast of warm air met them. An enormous coat rack spanned the length of the wall, with a boot rack below. Several antique chairs were strewn about. Glass lanterns lent the space a warm glow. At the room's end was a spiral stair, winding down into the ship's interior.

Will, Anaia, and Khel followed Tiberian into the depths of the August Dawn.

This was not what Will had expected. There were no spartan accommodations to be found here. No bare walls, no claustrophobic corridors.

The whole place felt a bit like Elle's quarters, back in the Elysia of a thousand years ago. Everything was antique. The furniture was comfortable. Cozy. Unique. Everything smelled of polished wood. Paintings of landscapes long forgotten clung to the walls. Expansive windows found a home off of nearly every passage—themselves decorated with carved handrails.

Tiberian paused at the next door. This one was a thick oak, larger than the rest by far. It opened automatically for the captain.

"It wouldn't open for you." He glared at Khel. "So don't get any ideas."

Khel grinned from ear to ear.

Tiberian stepped forward.

The room was a perfect sphere, with a glass platform underfoot.

The curved walls gave the appearance of a grand, rounded window to the outside of the ship—one that spanned the room's entire circumference, all the way back to the door, once it shut behind.

Even though it was night outside, the image looked like a crisp, dim twilight. It was too clear. Too radiant. Too even. Every detail of the clouds outside popped. Will thought he could see land far below—rolling hills, even trees. There were no moons, but he saw stars through the passing clouds.

"Not bad, eh?" Tiberian smiled.

Will looked around. He found it hard to focus on his immediate surroundings with the constant movement.

Six officers were stationed in this room, busying themselves about their duties at various stations spaced out evenly throughout. One sat front and center, his arms resting on a great, dark-oak ship's wheel at the core of a navigation console.

Another sat behind, in a chair higher than the rest. The officer sitting there greeted the captain with a brief salute, chair swiveling to greet the newcomers.

"Cap'." The man said warmly. "Who are your friends?"

"First Officer Moreland Cole, Will Darkwood, Sovereign."

The officer's eyes grew. Then he looked over to Khel, squinting.

Khel wandered over to the wall, touching it with his hand.

"That... is Khel." The captain said with contempt. "Legion Arcanist. Courtesy of our friend here."

"And you let him onto the bridge?" Cole chuckled. "Okay..."

"They say he's on our side now." Tiberian grimaced.

Cole nodded gradually. "Right." He looked to Will as though he were an imbecile. "Well if it's the tour you're after, you'd best be off to the forward lounge. Legion Arcanists make me nervous. Nervous pilots are not a good thing when it comes to four-thousand-ton airships."

"I think you'll survive another minute or so." Tiberian scowled. "I don't see anything nearby." He looked around the 360-degree display surrounding.

"Nor did you the last time, Cap'." Cole replied with a hint of defiance. "Or need I remind you..."

"No. No, I don't need yet another reminder about that. Thank you." Tiberian replied with a sly smile. "I'm sure I don't need to remind you that you were the one at the helm."

"What... what is this, exactly?" Will asked, looking at the view.

"Magic." The captain answered simply. "You'd have to ask the Chief Engineer."

Cole returned his gaze to the instrument panel in front, but he couldn't help but return disconcerted glances in Khel's direction every few moments.

Seeing this, Tiberian ushered them through another door to Cole's right. Like the one before, it was invisible when shut.

"Come on." The captain said, shooting a look of mild annoyance in his first officer's direction. "This way."

Once more, the door opened automatically, curved surface disappearing into the wall above. And again the decor turned seamlessly to dark mahogany and paintings. Another corridor to the left brought the three of them to yet another closed door. The captain opened it, leading the way forward.

This great room spanned from the bottom deck to the top. At its opposite end was the very front of the ship, where a curved transparent window reached across the hull. At least six decks opened into the room above, with walkways and handrails.

The great window ahead invited the darkness inside. Only occasionally could Will see the outline of a cloud, and only just as they were passing through.

Bookshelves covered the rear of the rear wall of the first floor, full of spines of all types and colors. Sofas and chairs were strewn about the room, most full of off-duty crew enjoying the final few minutes before bed. Julian and Grace sat with Aria, leaning back and gazing out the great forward window together with two long-stemmed glasses of sparkling wine. Aria had found some orange juice and a cinnamon roll.

Suddenly, the clouds ahead dissipated. The sky opened up, and the stars became visible.

There was something else, too.

Color swept across the sky. Waves of color, in a shifting spectrum of light. The outlines of every cloud in the sky swept into sight. Landscapes reflected upwards. The sky grew brighter by the moment—pulsing outward in waves. Night became day.

"An Aurora." Will said with a smile. "I've read about them."

"That's not an aurora." Tiberian walked up behind. "It's a distress call."

#

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# Chapter 52 - The Chasms of Je'ra

Will froze as he came out onto the deck.

Rocky outcroppings soared by the hull with the swiftness of the wind.

The aurora stretched across the horizon. But it was dimming with the daylight. As the sun rose, the sky changed from a faint purple to a dim pink. The odd glow Will had mistaken for an aurora was almost gone now. The sun threatened to peek over nearby cliffs, and the green flash in the sky was on the verge of disappearing.

They had flown into a canyon.

Pillars of grass-covered sandstone rose thousands of feet from a forest below to a point high above the ship. Some of these were covered in trees. Others had vines growing between them—even at great distances. More trees piggybacked on the vines themselves.

There were barely a dozen feet of clearance on each side. For a 350-foot ship, it felt like nothing. And the pillars were not quite straight. Every now and then, the Dawn took abrupt course corrections to come back into alignment. Both above and below, tree-bearing vines spun off in all directions. With so much overgrowth all around, there would be no escape should something go wrong.

"Up above!" Tiberian shouted, pressing a button on the mast. "Damn it, man. Look where you're going, or we'll end up in pieces."

Will looked up. An outcropping was coming up on the mast directly above the bow.

"Sorry." A repentant Cole piped through the mast itself.

The ship sank downward gently, just in time.

"There." Anaia called out, looking down over the port side.

"There what?" Will asked.

The sun peaked over the canyon walls opposite, flickering through the mid-air network of vines and trees.

"Ah, Darkwood." Tiberian said brusquely. "Welcome to the Chasms of Je'ra. The most dangerous place in creation to try to fly an airship."

"Nice of you to join us." Anaia grumbled.

She pointed across the canyon, into the trees so far below.

A river snaked in the distance—narrow, fast-moving, and violent. It was hard to make out from this altitude. They were about two thousand feet up.

The remnants of a tall ship clung to the far bank. It was a hundred feet long—maybe two. The hull had cracked straight down the middle. One of the masts now crossed the river. Another part of the ship was still facing straight up, its sail still unfurled.

"Look at the mark on that sail." Tiberian said. "Those are Achondrian colors. How the hell did it get so far inland?"

"I don't know." She responded pensively. "We need to see who's down there."

"Why would that ship have been in that river to begin with?" Will asked. "Isn't it a little too big?"

"It most certainly is." The captain said. "That's a tall ship, made for the open ocean. Probably on a taj run. What in the world drove them down that... river?"

"Only one way to find out." Anaia looked over the edge of the ship.

"Hold on there, Guardsman." The captain said nervously. "Even if you could survive that fall, how do you expect us to come down there and get you?" He looked down himself. "The cliffs get narrower down there, and I'll not risk the Dawn to pick you up."

"The river." Khel's voice called out behind, startling Will. "It's carved out a wider path. There. See?" He pointed. "Wait for our signal. Descend enough to throw us down a rope. We'll climb the rest of the way."

"You know I wish you wouldn't do that." Will said, turning to Khel.

"What?" The Arunite responded defensively, shrugging.

"Sneak up on people." Will responded. "You're sinister enough as it is."

"Old habits."

He threw himself clear off the side of the Dawn.

"Unbelievable." Will grumbled. He climbed onto the railing with a sigh. " 'We'll climb the rest of the way,' he says..."

Will leaned forward and let go of the side of the ship. Everything fell away.

#

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# Chapter 53 - Tranquility

A familiar rush took hold.

The landscape blurred together with speed and color.

Again, Will somehow slowed at the last second. He shuddered to think what might have happened if he hadn't.

Khel was already twenty paces to his left, heading into the forest towards the river without a second look back. Anaia landed to his side a second later.

Will looked up. The Dawn was smaller than he had expected.

"Come on." Anaia said coldly to Will's left, eyes locked on Khel as he faded into the vegetation.

It was rough going. Brush was everywhere. Trees dotted the landscape. The further they went, the luckier Will felt to have landed in a clearing. Saplings impeded visibility more than a few feet. Birdsong rose above the sound of the wind in the leaves. Frogs were everywhere. Their sound grew louder as he approached the riverbank.

As the trees cleared, Will saw just how mad the crew of the wrecked ship must have been to try to come through here. The narrow river was a relentless blend of cobalt and writhing white waves. Its current was quick and unforgiving. Collections of jagged rocks found a home all across its twisting, uneven path. No one would make the decision to come in here—no one without a very good reason.

The shattered ship's mast created a bridge across the river. By the time Will and Anaia reached the water's edge, Khel was already working his way across. But the makeshift bridge was round, and water rushed past so quickly that one false step would be his last. The wind was picking up, too. Will could hear it howl through the bends, see its effect on the trees.

Try as he might, Khel was struggling to keep his balance. His arms shot out to the sides, and he moved his feet to try to stay standing. He began juggling his weight from side to side with surprising agility, but it was a losing battle.

"He's going to fall in." Will chuckled to himself.

He was doing an admirable job, but it seemed likelier by the second.

Larger waves formed in the water, rolling over the half-submerged mast and causing it to shudder. A great cracking sound called out across the river as the wood shifted. Khel began to run, but it was too late. It snapped off at the other bank, submerging into the rapids and silently beginning a trek downstream—with Khel along for the ride. Khel teetered for a moment, trying to balance himself. But it was a useless gesture.

He fell.

Anaia picked up Khel with her mind, holding him over the water. He struggled in the air for a few seconds, then realized what was going on and resigned himself to it. He floated slowly and awkwardly over to the bank where the two of them stood.

She dropped him—with a little less gentleness than possible. The look on his face was priceless. Anaia couldn't stop chuckling.

"I suppose you think thanks are in order." Khel growled. He couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Would you prefer the river?" She gestured to the roaring rapids.

"Okay." Khel hissed. "How do you suggest we get over there now?"

"I'm not the one who broke the bridge." Anaia shrugged with a smile.

"Quiet." Will whispered abruptly.

He looked to the brush behind. Seconds passed in silence.

"I heard something." He whispered.

"Ah, yes." Khel said, not dropping his voice at all. "I heard something too. You. Acting like this is your first time outside of Haven Valley. Because it is."

"Probably nothing." Will said. "Come on."

He grabbed Khel's overcoat and put his hand on Anaia's shoulder. He Blinked the three of them to the opposite shore.

They arrived in the shadow of the ship's sails.

"Oh, would you have a look at this guy?" Khel snapped at Will. "Using up his energies before he even gets there. Hasn't she taught you anything yet?"

"Not through lack of trying, believe me." Anaia grumbled.

The wind was becoming a gale. The ruined ship's sole remaining sail flapped furiously.

"Yep. Achondrian." Anaia said as they approached. "Merchant ship. Look. The Tranquility." She read off the hull.

The ship's hull was sheared in two. From the keel to what had been the deck, the superstructure was ripped straight through. It had not been a clean break.

Will felt the torn wood. "No collision did this."

"Get inside." Khel ordered gruffly, without explanation. Will turned to look at him. He was facing the tree line opposite.

"What is it?" Will asked.

"Now."

Will and Anaia followed in silence. Decks protruded at an angle, torn through, random pieces of wood, fabric, and other odds and ends hanging out.

"There." Anaia said softly, gesturing to the top of the mast. "The beacon."

The top of the remaining mast projected a blinding beam of light into the sky. It shot up and scattered, mimicking the effect of an aurora. It was odd, to see a light this bright coming from a ruined hulk.

"It's a spell." Anaia looked over to him. "Most ships have them these days. Lasts for a week or so, but it can be seen for a hundred miles. Especially at night."

The easiest place to find a way into the wreck was on the lowest deck, through a door that would ordinarily have been two decks below the waterline. Getting in was a simple matter of climbing up the splintered, foot-thick hull. It was bone-dry inside, but it smelled of old wood and paper.

"What did you see out there?" Will whispered to Khel once they were inside.

A door was at the far side of the room.

Khel put his hand to his lip, then turned the knob and opened it, gesturing for Will and Anaia to enter. The door creaked open, fighting with its hinges—as though it knew something was wrong with the ship that housed it.

Finally, the three proceeded to the next room. It was dark, but for tiny cracks in the corners that let slivers of light across the wooden ceiling. A small, rectangular table was at the center of the room. Chairs were strewn all about. A lamp light hung from a chain above, with a map carelessly left across the table just below.

"Maybe you should ask her." Khel whispered back. He gestured to a corner of the room.

A shivering young woman was huddled there.

Her formerly white gown was covered in bloodstains. She was hidden in darkness, emaciated and worn. Cuts and bruises were visible all across her skin.

"Are you alone here?" Will whispered.

Her eyes nervously darted between the three of them.

"Can you understand me?" Will asked, even more slowly.

She nodded. Will regretted asking two questions.

"Stay back!" She screamed.

Her voice was familiar.

Will shifted sideways a bit, moving his face into one of the beams of light.

"Will?" She climbed to her feet.

"Evelyn?" Will barely recognized her.

"And Anaia." She burst into laughter, wrapping her arms around her.

"Nice to see you too..." Khel muttered.

Evelyn shot one look at Khel, then moved back to her corner.

"Are you alone here?" Will asked.

She nodded silently.

"How long have you been here?" Will asked. "What happened?"

"You don't know?" She asked, eyes widening. "You haven't seen it?"

She looked at the table, and it was as though she remembered there were chairs. She pulled out one out and sat down.

"There was a storm off the coast. We were about to turn back."

She paused.

"It... came from the depths. They thought it wouldn't be able to follow us down through the shallows." She ran her fingers through her hair. "Neglected to mention it could fly."

"What was it?" Will asked.

She leaned forward, burying her head in her palms.

"What?" Will pressed.

"Darkness. Just... darkness. Waves of it, all across the sky. Pulled everyone away. Tore us to shreds. I hid here, but I heard... everything."

Khel groaned, turning away and making a beeline for the door.

"What are you on about now?" Anaia griped, grabbing him with her arm.

Even through his matted black hair, Khel's eyes were as wide as half-credit coins. Will squinted suspiciously at his apparent fear.

"You people are children. I don't know if you can be helped."

"Khel, not now." Anaia snapped.

"Trust me when I say there are few things on this world that can keep the Avatar up at night. This is one of them."

"What is it?" Will asked.

"A Primal. A remnant of the Old World. We shouldn't be here."

"My dad is out there." Evelyn pleaded. "He went to the forest to look for food."

"When was this?" Anaia asked quietly.

Evelyn teared up.

"Two days ago."

"Your father is a corpse." Khel replied.

Anaia glared.

"No." Will said to himself. "We won't leave Adrian." He met Evelyn's gaze. "You three get to the ship. Tell Tiberian to get out of here. I'll head into the forest."

"Hah!" Khel exploded. "You'll head into the forest! Bravo!"

"We can't risk that." Anaia shook her head.

"And my dad?" Evelyn glared at Anaia. "You would leave him, Anaia?"

"What would you do then, assuming you do find this Adrian?" Khel asked Will. "After your airship flies off into the sunrise?"

"We'll have to improvise, Khel." Will said softly, with a smile. "You seem good at that."

Khel gave a deep sigh, laughing quietly to himself. Then, he looked up suddenly.

"Wait, we?"

Anaia's gaze shifted to Khel, a sly grin working its way across her face.

"You don't expect him to go alone, do you?"

"Of course, now you decide to trust me." Khel's shoulders sank.

"I've heard the children's stories too." Will said quietly.

"Children's stories... We're standing in a hull that's sheared in two." Khel grumbled, staring at Anaia. "You're his keeper. You go."

"And you're Khel." Anaia flashed him a devious smile. "Half of Valis is afraid to say your name."

"You're just trying to make me feel better." Khel muttered under his breath.

"Will you help, or not?" Will asked.

Khel gave a histrionic sigh.

"It's moot. Your cruise liner can't come down here to pick her up."

Anaia grinned. "No more games."

"What?" Khel asked.

"You know what, you cretin." Anaia said. "I've seen you do it before."

"What?" Will asked.

Khel glared back for a second, then let out a theatrical groan.

He turned towards the empty half of the room and raised his arms. A blazing light erupted from his fingertips.

A doorway through space appeared out of nowhere in the air in front of them. Morning sunlight shone through. On the other side was the deck of the August Dawn. One of the deckhands sprinted over, eyes wide. Will got a good look of Captain Tiberian hurrying over, astonished at the apparition on his deck—along with the look of relief as he apparently made out Will and the others.

"How...?" Will muttered involuntarily.

"One of us has to walk her through and warn Tiberian." Anaia said softly, eyeing Khel with subtle suspicion. "I'm not trusting you on that ship full of people by yourself. But you two had better be here when I get back."

She pulled Evelyn to her feet, held her hand, and the two disappeared into the doorway.

The ground shook violently beneath their feet. Will nearly lost his footing. The sound of shattering plates filled the room.

With an abrupt hiss and a blink of light, the portal vanished. Will was alone with Khel in a dark room.

#

# 

# Chapter 54 - The Mists

"What was that?"

"It knows we're here." Khel said abruptly, turning away.

"Bring them back." Will demanded.

"No." Khel snarled.

"Why?" Will asked.

"It was hard enough doing that the first time. We're not invincible, William."

"You heard her." Will glared. "She's going to..."

"If she's so worried about us, she can Blink down." Khel shot him a twisted grin. "You'd just better hope she gets that damned cruise ship out of here. Elsewise we may have some hiking in our future."  
He kicked open the door.

"What are you grinning at?" Will asked peevishly. "You look like you want that to happen."

"You shouldn't build your warships like luxury liners. That's all."

"What's wrong with the Dawn? I thought it was fine."

"Keep your voice down." Khel whispered insistently.

As they passed outside, Khel looked from side to side in silence. It was as though he expected something to come crashing down on them.

"And that's my point." He continued sharply as the two stepped out into the sunlight. "Everything in Valis is fine. Everything is elegant. You've been without sacrifice for so long that you've forgotten what it is."

"You would consider war a good thing." Will shot Khel a funny look.

"Do you know how many ships you could have built with the resources it took to build one like that? There's a reason navies are utilitarian."

"Tracks." Will held out his hand to stop Khel, pointing at a single set of shallow prints leading out into the trees.

"Better than I thought we'd find." Khel admitted.

"Wait." Will said as they were about to enter the forest. "What's that?"

The pathway into the trees narrowed ahead. The tracks made a windy path off the dirt and into the forest, where branches pressed in on both sides.

Something caught Will's eye just beyond.

Where there should have been shade below the trees, an undulating darkness hovered. It looked like fog, but it moved subtly to avoid the sun. And it was jet-black.

Will stepped forward. Remembering his reading, he threw out a ball of light and stepped forward. With a drawn-out sigh, Khel followed.

"You won't live to regret this." Khel warned in a low whisper.

Will tuned him out, ignoring the fear building in his chest. He was not turning back without Evelyn's father.

The mists closed on all sides. No light penetrated the forest. Darkness fell.

Even the light of Will's spell was quickly fading. Before long, only a few feet separated Will and Khel from the nebulous dark beyond. They couldn't even make out the trees anymore.

Will sent another light from his hand, this one brighter. Pulses of light emitted from it in all directions, driving back the darkness and illuminating their path. The mists retreated in a perfect sphere. But they remained, just beyond the light's reach.

But the light was weakening.

It was subtle at first. Will thought he was imagining it. Sure enough, though, the mists were drawing closer. Something was pushing back on the light, drawing it into the cold dark of the wood.

"We should leave." Khel stopped behind Will.

"What?" Will turned.

"Now."

Will's light was as dim as moonlight now. Fading quickly.

"Have you seen this before?" He asked Khel.

"No. That's why we should leave."

"The tracks go this way." Will pointed. "Deeper into the forest."

He started again down the path, throwing up another light—the brightest yet. Again the mists made a hasty retreat, followed by a grim, inevitable advance.

"Look." Khel pointed at the path ahead. It curved in and around the trees, around a silent stream, and up a slight slope. In the distance, just at the edge of the mist, there was movement. Will barely saw it, but it was there. Something moved up ahead in the darkness.

"Come on." Will said loudly, bolting ahead.

"Wait." Khel called out. "Slow down."

Will was twenty paces ahead of Khel.

The figure ahead passed into shadow and was gone. Will stopped, leaning against a tree. Only then did he realize that the lights he had been throwing were vanishing almost immediately now—and that Khel was no longer behind.

Will was alone in the advancing dark. Fear gripped him.

He conjured another light, holding it in the palm of his hand.

Khel burst forward.

"What the hell were you thinking?" He accosted Will. "Running into the black like that?"

"I saw someone." Will replied. "He's out there."

Khel looked at Will as though he were losing his mind.

"Adrian." Will said, turning away. "Must have been."

"You idiot." Khel rebuked, drawing closer. "Look around you. Do you think your friend from the tree village, with no survival or combat training, survived for two days alone? In this place?"

Will shook his head.

"I don't know. I'm telling you. Something is out here."

"Well, you've lost the tracks." Khel grumbled as his light faded into the dark, leaving the one over Will's hand the only light source keeping the mists at bay.

Will afforded more thought to the light in his hand. It grew in size and brightness, and the mists retreated in a sphere. Within seconds, visibility was back up to nearly a hundred yards in each direction.

But it took more and more concentration to hold the light. Will could feel the dark pushing back.

He stepped forward.

"Where are you going?" Khel asked. Will ignored him.

"It went that way." Will pointed into the distance.

"Whatever 'it' was." Khel murmured.

Suddenly, the pressure on Will's mind from maintaining the light exploded. A piercing sensation erupted behind his temples. Whispers called through the shifting clouds of black. As the mists drew closer, so, too did these bizarre voices.

Will looked at Khel, but he only shot back an odd look, as if to ask what was wrong.

The whispers grew louder. More intrusive. They overlapped, pushing into the recesses of his mind. They formed words. The language was incomprehensible. Some of the phrases sounded vaguely familiar to him—just, wrong. Twisted, somehow, enough to escape recognition.

Will's mind filled with dread. He couldn't explain it. Anxiety tore into him. Every dark emotion in the depths of his being rushed to the forefront, where it all began to take hold.

Will let go of the light. The mists closed in. The whispers stopped.

"You're right." Will said softly, his heart beating out of his chest. "We need to leave."

"Now you start listening?" Khel griped, throwing up another light.

"This mist..." Will's voice quivered. "There's something not right about this."

"There." Khel pointed straight off into the distance, where the border of the mists hit the trees fifty yards off.

It was Adrian.

He stood out there, in the darkness, staring at them in stillness and silence. His face was pale and gaunt, his expression vacant and unfeeling. The eyes that looked back at them were as black as the mists. Even through the pale light, it was clear something was wrong.

"Adrian." Will called out, hazarding raising his voice to a normal tone.

Adrian was still for a few seconds. Then he turned, disappearing.

"Oh, I don't think so."

"Will." Khel protested, grabbing his shoulder. "Think before you act. Does this seem right to you?"

"Nothing about this seems right." Will said. "But nothing has changed, either. I'll not leave Adrian behind."

Khel pulled Will aside, throwing him into a tree. "You are such a... fool." He shouted, staring into Will's eyes. "If you'd heard half the stories I could tell you about Primals... would you risk the future of this world for one life?"

"I won't do it. I won't condemn him to die."

"That's your job." Khel hissed. He threw up another two lights. Their disappearance was happening faster each time. "Millions depend on you. Start acting like it."

"I just watched a child lose everyone she knew. My best friend was kidnapped from right under my nose. I was powerless to stop any of it."

Will darted back towards where Adrian had appeared. He threw a burst of light ahead of him, driving the mists back.

Khel gave chase. The mists rushed rapidly forward to fill the void. They grew close enough to touch.

Khel threw down a pulse of light to the ground, sending an audible shockwave in all directions. The mists withdrew to a hundred yards or so, but only for a second. They rushed forward with a renewed ferocity moments later.

Khel threw up another light, but they both knew it wouldn't last.

"We can't keep this up." He whispered behind Will.

"Maybe we won't have to." Will said, coming to a stop. Just steps ahead, illuminated in the pale blue light, was Adrian.

Everything about him was the right shape. His face, his body type, even his clothes were the same as Will remembered.

But the essence of the man was... different. Wrong somehow. His irises were jet-black—the same color as his pupils. There was nothing behind the eyes. He was gaunt. A blank slate. A hollowed shell.

Will was no more than three feet away. The mists closed in on all sides with a renewed fury. Khel's light was failing.

The man opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. Instead, with a gradual hiss, mists poured forward from his black eyes, nose, and mouth—even into the light that remained. The form of Adrian remained, but there was no one left.

With a shot of adrenaline, Will bolted back to Khel, grabbed hold of his overcoat, and conjured a vivid picture of the August Dawn's deck in his mind.

A loud crack rang out across the black forest.

#

# 

# Chapter 55 - Altitude

Will and Khel appeared on the deck of the Dawn to a burst of wind. Sailors gaped.

Will ran to the mast. Tiberian was still there. So was Anaia.

"We need to go." Will panted. "Now."

He was sure he looked as haggard and terrified as he felt.

The captain reached to the button on the mast and began shouting orders belowdecks.

"They're onboard. Get us out of here. Eastward heading. Best possible speed." He hollered.

The ship lurched beneath as it began gaining speed and altitude.

Khel shot Anaia a stupefied glare.

Anaia smiled, eyebrows raised.

"You handled that well. Don't think this means I believe you."

Khel rolled his eyes at her, then turned to Will.

"You didn't know where the ship was." He said in a soft tone. "We could've appeared in mid-air, fallen to our deaths."

"Don't be such a drama queen." Will dismissed with a smile. "You didn't die the last time you jumped off the deck."

"Yes. Jumped." Khel protested, shaking his head. "Not fell. I had time to prepare then. What did I tell you? We're not invincible. You keep this up, you're not going to like where it ends."

Evelyn burst out from the below-decks door and bolted over. Judging by her appearance, she had found time to change and clean herself up.

"My father. Did you find him?" She had regained much of her former elegance, but dark circles still crept under her eyes, and her face was gaunt and emaciated.

Khel and Will stared at each other, unsure who was going to be the one to speak up.

"We should talk." Will said, trying to get her away from the group.

Evelyn's lips quivered.

"What happened to him?"

Will looked down for a second, then met her gaze.

"I... I don't know." He said quietly. "He's gone. I'm sorry."

"What do you mean you don't know?" She asked, her voice raising. "Don't tell me you don't know, but that you know he's gone. What does that even mean? I have to know. Tell me what happened down there."

A howling alarm burst out across the ship. Will's ears surged with pain.

"What?" The captain barked, holding down the button on the mast.

"Something coming at us from the surface, sir." The voice on the other end said. "Something big. You'd better get down here."

"Keep gaining altitude. And heat up the core." Tiberian ordered, holding down the button. "I'm on my way."

"Aye, sir."

The captain bolted belowdecks.

The ship passed through a wide gap in the vines above. They soared upwards. Will could feel the deck press up against him, sense the acceleration forcing blood downward.

"There." Khel pointed. "Behind the third pillar, cresting now."

"What in the..." A crewman backed away from the edge.

A black, swirling mass rose from the landscape below. There was no mistaking it. The mists, the same presence they had encountered in the forest, had grown to a vast creature of gloom and dusk. It twisted and contorted along a quick ascent. It blotted out the stone chasms, then the trees, then the rivers, the mountains... everything.

"We don't have long." Khel growled.

"What did you find down there?" Anaia looked from Will to Khel.

Khel turned away, throwing his overcoat aside. He paced towards the stern.

Soon, there was nothing below except black. The scale of the phenomenon had never been quite clear to Will. There was no face, no body, no wings. It was only a great black mass, writhing in the wind.

Khel looked different without the coat. He wore a black tunic with dozens of pockets and scabbards. Blades protruded from some of them—some more like scimitars. Others were home to even more insidious weapons. Khel reached his right hand into one of his pockets. He pulled out a handful of tiny pearlescent balls, walked over the to the stern, and threw them into the distance behind the ship.

Five seconds later, the deck of the Dawn erupted in a terrible shudder. A deafening crash cracked through the air. A blaze of white fire filled the sky. Some of the crew rolled into bulkheads or masts.

"What was that?" Will screamed. His own voice sounded much quieter to his ears than it should have.

The sailors who were still standing scrambled across the deck, searching for the cause of the commotion. Panic reigned.

Khel hardly seemed to take notice.

"Damn." He groaned, still staring off at the echoes of the detonation off the stern.

"Worth a try." Anaia shrugged at him.

"What..." Will started.

"Pyroclastic charges." Anaia explained. "Bit of concentration now, big boom later. Useful in a pinch."

"Apparently not." Khel grumbled, staring off at the undulating shadow worming its way back at the ship. It had separated into several pieces and retreated a bit, but it was coming back. Khel had bought them a few seconds at most.

Will threw a light downward. The mass separated for a moment, letting it pass through. The mists just coalesced again and kept coming. Will shuddered with a familiar dread.

"Very creative." Khel snapped. "Any more bright ideas?"

The creature was not more than two hundred yards off now—and gaining.

"Ready!" A voice called from below. Portholes opened in the decks there. "Fire."

Vibrations echoed throughout the hull as a volley of cannon fire rocked the ship. No effect. The shots went straight through the mists. The creature kept coming. The portholes closed, and others opened.

"Ready!" The same voice called. "Fire."

This time, nozzles extended from the stern. A fiery mixture of incendiary liquid launched towards the mass. The mists reeled back dramatically. But the creature moved upwards, out of range of the liquid flame.

The mists were on them. They descended to the deck.

Anaia raised her arm, hurling a storm of bright-blue fire into the sky. The black cloud stopped for a moment, allowing the Dawn to gain precious distance and altitude. But it was not more than five seconds before it ascended again, and faster. It spread out, too, making it a harder target.

The ship was enveloped. The sun was gone. Darkness fell.

It was like being back in the forest. Only the lamplights on the masts, which came on automatically, kept the dark at bay. And these started to flicker straight away. Several already extinguished themselves, turning to a dim red.

Sailors scrambled in the darkness, running towards the red lanterns and away from the swirling shadow. Screams called out in the black. Will looked up just in time to see a sailor swept up into the darkness.

"Fire." Voices called out again below. The flame nozzles activated again, but it was like trying to put out a forest fire with a water bucket. The liquid fire was having an effect—just not nearly enough.

Will bolted over to the communications button on the mast and held it down. "Lights." He commanded to whoever was listening. "Any lights we've got. Turn them on."

"Who is this?" A voice answered.

"Just do it." Tiberian growled.

Floodlights turned on from several of the masts, and some from the hull itself. The creature backed off some distance from these. He had bought them time. Some, but not much. It was not long before the floodlights started flickering too.

Will, Anaia and Khel began throwing lights up in every direction, one after the other. Just as they had in the forest, the mists undulated backwards, recoiling from the lights, then advancing forward and extinguishing them. Their efforts grew steadily more dramatic, more desperate. Each time the creature gave ground, but each time it gained it back more quickly.

Everyone on the deck retreated to the ship's last few floodlights and lanterns, which turned a flickering blood-red.

Then, out of nowhere, it was over. The cloud shuddered and withdrew. Blinding sunlight was all around.

Will looked down over the side of the ship. They had gained thousands of feet of altitude. They were over the ocean now. The landscape in the distance behind looked nearly flat from this height.

"Look." Will pointed.

The mists struggled to keep up with the Dawn, but it was as though they'd hit an invisible ceiling in the sky. Fragments of black shot above the rest into wispy clouds, then sank back into the floating mass. The creature kept its distance straight below, growing steadily smaller underneath.

Finally, after a minute or so, it gave up, swirling into a single stream and shooting straight back to the sea below.

#

# 

# Chapter 56 - Nuthien

"I don't think a decent explanation is too much to ask for."

Tiberian wandered into the forward lounge. Drinks were arranged haphazardly around a sofa, where Will, Khel, Anaia, and Aria all sat, feet up on a table. The late afternoon sun cast a pleasant orange glow into the great room, which was full of off-duty crew. Voices didn't carry across the vast space. Even though it was full of people, it kept a certain peace.

"We're at ten thousand feet." The captain barked, taking a seat and throwing his legs up. "The engineer is after me about stress on the core. We've barely made six knots the whole day. Crew gets tired doing the simplest things. And I just saved you all... from a cloud. What the hell is going on?"

Khel glared at Will in silence.

"Anyone?" The captain asked.

"We don't know more than you do." Will said quietly. "We ran into it in the forest."

"Nonsense." Khel leaned back. "You know exactly what it is. You both do. That's because I warned you. Right before you wandered into the woods and provoked it."

"That mist was the Primal you were going on about?" Tiberian raised his eyebrows.

"No." Khel mocked. "It was a bit of cloud with a penchant for garish Elysian cruise ships."

The captain shot Khel a dirty look.

"Quick thinking back there." Anaia added, looking at the captain. "Probably did save the ship."

The captain beamed. "We aim to please." He grabbed an untouched maple scone from Khel's plate.

"Hey..." Khel protested.

The captain took a large bite, dropping crumbs all over his pristine uniform.

"Scones for dinner." Tiberian said off-hand with a smile. "I'll have to remember that."

"You're critiquing what I eat now?" Khel replied with mock-defensiveness. "Before I know it, you'll have turned me into a proper gentleman."

"We need supplies." Tiberian continued. "Engineer is complaining about coolant. Don't ask me. Ship wasn't designed to maintain this altitude. Point is, we'll be going to Nuthien after all. There by sundown." Tiberian added through his mouthful, looking out the bay windows listlessly.

"Is that really necessary?" Will asked. "Lewis is..."

"Yes." Tiberian responded glumly, looking over at Will. "It's this, or fall out of the sky in the Arunite desert. Nuthien's the closest port."

Will shook his head.

"I want you three on deck when we make port." The captain said, pointing to Will, Anaia, and Khel. "We're over water, and there's no telling what's down there."

Tiberian got to his feet, finished the last of the scone—dropping crumbs everywhere—and headed off towards the stairs on the far side of the lounge.

The group reached the deck in less than a minute. By then, nearly everyone was winded.

The sun was at an odd angle in the sky. It let off a bright-amethyst glow, dead-set between both moons. One of the moons—Prospero, the larger of the two—partially eclipsed it. As Will knew, this was common, given its relative size. But it didn't make the sight any less striking. The second, Caliban, was halfway through the horizon by now.

At this altitude, the ship was above the clouds. Everyone had a perfect view of the color-shifted sunlight descending into the purplish fog. The sun and the moons blurred together above the skyline, giving rise to the beginnings of a perfect lavender sunset.

The ship lurched as it began its descent. The bow dipped forward.

"There are moments I wonder where we'd be right now, if I hadn't knocked on your door all those years ago." Julian said softly to Grace.

"Just moments?" She smiled, putting her arm around him.

"Feel that breeze?" He asked.

"Never say I don't take you anywhere." Grace teased.

He shot her a funny look.

"Don't think you would be accused of that."

Will looked over the edge of the Dawn. They were over water, but the landscape meeting the sea below was steep and treacherous in both directions. As they descended, vast cliffs came into sharper focus.

Footsteps called out behind.

Evelyn's simple white dress flowed in the wind. She didn't make eye contact.

"Are you alright?"

She ignored him.

She put her hands on the wooden railing and leaned over, looking straight out. She was quiet for a moment or two, eyes surveying the clouds swirling by in the distance.

"I heard what happened to Lewis."

"We'll get him back."

"I'm there with you." She said firmly.

"Do you know where we're going?" Will asked.

"I have a good idea." She said, surprisingly even. "We'll go where we have to go. We'll get him back."

Will nodded. She stared out past the sunlit fog.

"My father used to tell me to cherish childhood." She said softly. "Never listened. I wanted out. Wanted to see the places I'd read about. No one leaves Reverie."

"Know what that's like." Will added.

"Used to beg him to let the merchants take me as far as Achondria. Just one time. To see the sun. Without the fogs or the canopies of the forest. The deep blue. We argued so many times. Hadn't spoken in a week when you showed up."

Will shook his head silently.

"Well... I got what I wanted." Evelyn looked over at Will. "We'll never have those conversations again. I'll never hear him laugh, smell his cooking, introduce him to the one I'll marry."

"I'm sorry." Will said quietly.

"How could this happen?" She asked. "What did we do to deserve this?"

"I don't know. Don't know if it works like that." Will said earnestly. "I keep thinking of something Anaia said to me, right after we met. One day at a time."

"It's not that simple."

"I know." Will replied. "Still, sometimes it's all we can do."

Flocks of birds caught up with the Dawn, landing on its curved masts and sails. Some of them were tiny, bathed in rainbows of color. Others had wingspans of nearly a dozen feet. Will wondered if they might be a danger to the ship, but none of the crew seemed concerned. Still, he was relieved when they flew off.

The mountains to their left were at eye level now. A plethora of tropical color defined the ridges jutting into the air. Thousands of trees had found ways to grow from the unlikeliest of places. Will saw palms, lotus, ferns, jacarandas, and dozens of others he didn't recognize.

The sun extinguished itself, completing its descent into the magenta palette. In the darkness, a foreign presence made itself known on the mountainsides. A spectrum of color appeared in every plant, every tree—reds, blues, and purples lighting up the landscape at a distance. Bioluminescence erupted across the sky as the night took hold.

There were strange noises, too. In the background of everything was a subtle, constant, hum—like crickets, only louder, and lower-pitched. Interspersed was the occasional piercing hiss or low howl, lending the place a sense of peril.

By now, Will could hear the waves of the ocean crashing into the sharp rocks under the ship. They could not have been more than a few hundred feet up.

"There." Anaia pointed just ahead. "Nuthien."

Hundreds of cylindrical platforms shot out from the gleaming mountainside off the bow. Some had other airships docked nearby—each of which was much smaller than the Dawn. Towers shot up from the rocks below, complete with weapons protruding from their sides. These were pointed in all directions—up, outwards, down at the water.

There was a bay down below. A winding, heavily guarded road led down to the docks, gated at several spots. Ships filled it. Hundreds of sails protruded into the twilight.

Across the bay stood another set of peaks, crested by a great wall of white stone. It stretched as far inland as Will could see. A citadel stood at its far-right side, closest to the sea. A thin suspension bridge crossed the bay, connecting it to the city.

"Look at that." Tiberian said with a smile. "You were worried about nothing."

"Don't be so sure." Anaia had her eye on the nearest platform.

They were coming in on final approach to dock.

The platform they approached was some two hundred feet above the ocean. It protruded straight from the cliff face. An oak tree was in its center, surrounded by hovering lights on all sides. Dozens more platforms spread across the cliffside above. Sporadic, glowing windows told of a presence inside the mountain.

The Dawn bumped unceremoniously into the stone with finality. An awkward silence fell across the deck.

Khel kicked Will in the shin.

"Ah!" Will cried out. "What did you..."

Khel cleared his throat, looking ahead.

Three men in white armor stood at the dock.

Will stepped forward. "I'm..."

"We know who you are." The man in front said curtly.

He was scarred. His long, greying hair was parted to the side. His eyes told a cheerless tale. His metal armor had ribbons emblazoned onto it.

"Okay. Who are you?" Will asked.

"You will come with us." The man responded.

"Why?"

"You want to dock here. You'll come with us."

"Darkwood, a word?"

Tiberian pulled will aside.

"Our engineer... he's great. The best."

"But?" Will anticipated.

"But he exaggerates." The captain stayed out of earshot of the three soldiers. "He told me we could make it back to the capital if absolutely necessary. I don't know that I believe him."

Will shook his head, turning away.

"Let's go." He beckoned to his companions with a sigh.

"No. Only you." The man pointed at Will.

"I don't think so." Anaia stepped forward. "Not without an introduction."

"It's okay." Will forced a smile. "I can take care of myself."

Khel scoffed. Aria chuckled.

Will frowned back at them, then continued, looking forward.

"Besides, we're still in Valis. We're on the same side. Right?"

The man forced a half-smile back. He led Will around the oak tree.

"What are you..." Anaia started.

"Wait for me." Will said curtly.

Balls of bluish white hovered among the oak's branches, illuminating the grass and benches underneath. Will got the impression this was a place accustomed to visitors—or had been, at one point or another.

Other airships hovered above and below. Unlike the Dawn, most of these were suspended by envelopes of gas—with much smaller cabins, leaving little room for interior space. But there were dozens more platforms than ships.

The man opened a great, iron door into the mountain and led Will through.

"What is this place?" Will asked.

Will's minders ignored the question.

They entered a vast hollow dome carved into the rock. A glass sphere sat in the center of it, suspended in mid-air some two hundred paces off.

Curving hallways extended to each side. These, too, were carved straight out of the rock. Will tried to get a good look, but there was no chance.

"But..." He began.

"Let him do the talking." The man cut him off.

"Who?" Will asked, confused.

"Inside." The man pointed to the sphere of glass at the room's center. A door appeared noiselessly in its side.

"Why?" Will asked, perplexed.

Again, the man was mute. But Will remembered Tiberian's words about the Dawn. He stepped inside.

The door to the glass sphere slid shut with a hiss. Will was trapped.

Without any warning the sphere launched itself upward, pressing Will's legs into the floor and forcing the blood out of his head. He came to a rest on the glass bench inside the lift.

The scenery all around changed. Will passed upward through half a dozen more stone chambers—some of which were even larger, and not nearly as empty. He caught brief glimpses of great rooms full of people, of movement—of dozens of airships and hundreds of weapons. But within seconds, the lift came to an abrupt halt, and the glass door shifted open.

Cold, fresh night air rushed in. It was so cold.

Will stepped out. He was on the top of the mountain.

The lift blasted off below, leaving a stone platform shifting out of the ground to replace it.

A rocky cliffside offered views in all directions. In the last few minutes of dusk, it was quite the sight. To Will's right was the Southern Sea, shimmering in the sun's last gasps. The Arunite Wall lurked in the distance, an ominous fixture on rolling seaside hills. Howling gales rushed across his ears, stinging them with cold.

Lanterns switched on beneath Will's feet, revealing a path for him to follow.

Will made his way across the rocky cliff face with no slight difficulty. The terrain was rocky, steep at parts. He shivered as a cold wind broke across the rock face, blowing his hair across his face.

The path ended. There was nothing ahead—no more lights to follow.

The lights behind extinguished themselves too.

Will looked around for any sign of why he might be here. There was nothing. He was alone.

Suddenly, the air began to shimmer in front of his eyes.

#

#

#

# 

# Chapter 57 - The Image

"Hello."

A voice called out of the darkness.

It was warped—distorted, as though coming from underwater. For a moment, Will thought he must have been imagining things.

"Can you hear me?"

It was coming from all around. It was hard to distinguish from the howling of the wind in his ears.

"Can you see me?"

It was a man's voice. Deep. Calm. Amused.

A shimmering light appeared right in front. Will reached out to touch it, then recoiled when it caused him pain.

The shimmer flickered, then erupted into a three-dimensional image, made of blue light.

A man sat there, leaning back in a chair with one leg crossed in front of the other. He was older, probably in his late fifties. Silver-grey hair swept down in a side part—unaffected by the wind. His eyes were a steely light blue, not unlike Will's own. There was tenacity in those eyes.

A broad smile lit up across his face. Scars were strewn across it. He wore a white silk shirt and a fine coat. The pallor of his skin told Will he hadn't seen the sun in some time.

"I wondered what I'd say now." The man shook his head slowly, staring at Will with a puzzling smile. "What a day."

"Do I know you?" Will asked quietly.

He was sure the answer was yes, but he couldn't place it.

The image smiled enigmatically.

"Everything is about to change. And you are at the center of it all."

"Wha... what?" Will shook his head. "Who are you?"

"You don't know." The image leaned back, more amused than ever. "Interesting. I shouldn't be surprised. No one recognizes me anymore. I thought you of all people might be an exception. Suffice it to say that our interests align."

"That's it?" Will asked, frustrated.

"It will have to do."

"Why have you brought me here?"

"You came by ship."

"You know we did."

"Then you saw our defenses." The image stated a fact. "Intact."

Will just stared.

"That didn't strike you a little odd?"

"What are you saying?" Will asked.

"I look into your eyes and I see one who has not known fear. Who has not expected death. You would lead us?"

Will was silent.

"Survival will require loss." The man said, eyes growing hard. "Pieces must be sacrificed to clear the board."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Will looked across to the bay.

"You should know. You got a firsthand taste of Elysia's true defensive capabilities."

"What is that supposed to mean? Unless... no. That was you?"

The image smiled deviously. It sent a shiver down Will's spine.

"We will not give up without a fight, William."

"You set that cloud loose on my friends? That thing almost killed us."

"It didn't."

"Who are you?" Will glared.

"This harbor is the final resting place of a Legion armada." The image's tone never changed much. "Thirty-three ships, ten thousand soldiers. Who do you think put them there?"

"And you think you can control this... thing? This Primal?" Will asked.

"I know what it likes."

"What might that be?"

"You think I'm going to tell you?" The image laughed to himself. "No. You need my help. We have been preparing for this moment for a good deal longer than you have been alive."

"We?"

"Valis must survive, William. No matter the cost." The image said softly. "Dark days are coming. Nothing can stop them. Whose blood stains the ground... well, that's up to us."

"You're different than the Elysians I've met." Will said quietly.

"You have that right." The image grinned. "If it's a fight the Legion wants, it's a fight they'll get."

"No." Will said. "We can put an end to this. We deal with the Avatar, and the bloodshed will stop. There'll be no more war."

"So simple. Spoken like a Havener." The image turned away. "You sound like her."

"Who?"

"Elle. Who else?"

"Never heard her described as simple."

"Aru is poison. Arunites are killers. It's a matter of time before the right moment comes and they sweep across the border like a plague. That moment has never been closer."

"What do you want from me?" Will's tone had grown bitter.

"From you? You, yourself? Nothing." The image looked away. "You're meaningless."

"I'm meaningless?" Will shook his head. "Why are we here?"

"From your successor, I want information, and cooperation." The image stated. "In exchange, I offer resources. Soldiers. Magi. Weapons. Warships. In numbers you cannot match. To say nothing of the ancient knowledge at my command."

"What? My successor?"

"She'll make a worthy ally."

The image switched off abruptly. Will was alone on the dark, windy mountaintop.

#

# 

# Chapter 58 - Darkfall

The night air was brisk, the wind biting.

The sails billowed savagely. The elaborate, curved masts bent backward. Still, the ship felt stable. Sturdy. The deck was almost serene, apart from the howl of the wind.

The citadel at the south point of the wall was at eye level, fast approaching to the left.

"Ah, you made it. And just on time, too." Tiberian said, a smile creeping up his face as he looked down at the timepiece around his neck.

After a few seconds, he tucked the piece back inside his shirt.

"Lights." He bellowed, holding down the button on the mast. "Hope you're not scared of the dark." Tiberian took pleasure in his abruptly spooky tone.

A hum called out across the ship as the lights across the deck extinguished themselves—from the lanterns to the spotlights.

"Welcome to Aru, ladies and gents." The captain said, his voice turning dark and serious. "Prying eyes are to be avoided in this part of the world."

Only the dim-blue moonlight lit up the deck. To the left, the bridge from the citadel to Nuthien carved an amber line across the sky. Tiny dots moved to and fro across it.

The ship rushed past, just a few hundred feet above the tower. Will could make out the outlines of the several other airships docked alongside the Valisian side. By their deck lights, he saw hundreds of men and women scurrying about down there. The ships were smaller than the Dawn, but still formidable—a hundred and fifty feet or so in length. And unlike the Dawn, these used bags of gas for lift. Will watched one undock, heading North.

"Where do you suppose they're going?" Anaia asked subtly from just behind.

Will jumped.

"How is it you can still sneak up on me, after all this time?"

Anaia smiled in the moonlight. The expression vanished just as quickly.

"What is it?" Will asked.

She stared off the bow, expressionless. Chattering erupted across the ship as they soared over the wall.

Will matched Anaia's gaze.

They were flying over a battle.

It stretched across the horizon. Torches lit up the night in a sea of orange. Great ladder contraptions fitted to the wall. Legionaries scurried up. Some were repelled, falling to their deaths. Others were struck down at the top. Scattered volleys of fire arrows seemed to have no effect on the siege. Cannon fire echoed over the wind. The occasional flash of lightning or crack of flame called out over the battlefield. In those moments, Will thought he could make out a shifting darkness in the night sky above.

"We have to help them." Grace's voice called out.

"Excuse me?" Khel scoffed.

"We can't help them." The captain dismissed, soberer than ever. "We'd be shot down, sure as the setting sun."

The air cracked with thunder as something impacted the wall below.

"How can you say that?" Grace responded. "How long do you think they're going to last down there?"

"They mean business tonight." Khel replied, voice turning bitter. "Probably because he stopped them before."

Another loud crack like thunder. A gaping hole tore into the wall. A torrent of bricks erupted into the sky.

"Will we do nothing?" Evelyn asked.

"We have limited resources and another job to do." The captain's voice was sour, as if he didn't like what he was saying.

"Maybe you can't do anything." Will said, staring down at the battle as if getting ready to do something heroic.

"Ughh." Khel cut him off. "No... No. No. No." Khel admonished Will, as one would a dog. "That is an army. You are... you. When will you learn?"

"We're in the sky." Will said, regretting it the very next moment. "What would it matter if they saw us for a moment or two?"

"Do you see any other airships up here?" Khel gestured to the air all around. It was pitch-black. If there were any, they were concealed too.

"No, but maybe they're just..." Will started.

"Exactly." Khel said firmly. "With a force like this below, they're hiding like we are, doing reconnaissance, or prepping a suicide attack. Don't fancy the latter option."

"He's right." The captain's voice was soft, even frail. "An airship's advantages are stealth and range. With that force around? We'd be down in seconds."

Will sighed, pacing back and forth.

"Besides, Will," Anaia spoke up. "From what you were telling us, we shouldn't assume this is a one-sided fight."

"But... look." Will gave a futile gesture down at the army in the dim moonlight. It was an awe-inspiring sight.

"We don't know anything about how long this battle has been going on." She continued, voice a grave monotone. "Did the garrison at Nuthien look worried to you? The Southpoint Citadel?"

Everyone stared.

"No. We press on."

Will's heart sank. She was right, and he knew it. Judging by the expressions all around, everyone else knew it too.

A shockwave ripped across the hull.

Will was nearly launched off his feet.

He grabbed hold of the side of the ship just in time to steady himself and keep his balance. Some of the others were not so lucky.

A column of fire billowed into the night sky from the battlefield below.

"Holy hell." The captain called out, shaking his head and rubbing his neck, which had just slammed into the mast. "We're nearly a mile up. What could...?"

"Look." Anaia pointed.

Everyone looked over the side. In the center of the field below was the barely recognizable remnant of a shattered airship on the ground—charred to a crisp. It was the epicenter of a mushroom cloud, transforming the glowing sky from a bright-orange to an ash-grey.

The enemy army was in disarray for a quarter-mile around ground-zero in all directions.

Screams of anguish made their way up to them—something even most of the sounds of battle had not been able to do until now.

"I didn't think you people had it in you." Khel said under his breath.

The Arunites tended to their wounded. The Valisians allowed them a certain peace while they did this, retreating behind the wall.

The battle was over, for now.

Will backed away from the edge as the chorus of screams began to fade.

Part 6 – Aru

#

# 

# Chapter 59 - The Sands of Serendipity

When Will reached the deck the next morning, the light stung his eyes.

At first, the writhing golden mass below looked like a miscolored ocean. It even moved like one. The desert landscape flowed in great distortions—up and down, side to side—storms and cyclones forming beneath and all around. The scene continually shifted, rearranging itself along with the wind.

It was nothing more than sand.

The sight glistened in the fresh hazel glow of the young day. The light danced off of it, glistening and scattering in all directions, as though it were turbulent water.

Every now and then a hole would emerge in the sands, surrounded by a swirling vortex. Sometimes, the gap would close moments later—as if it had never existed. Other times, a scar would tear in the land and expand down the side, rearranging the topography.

"Where has he taken us?" Will muttered.

"Never heard of the Sands?" The captain was standing right behind.

"The what?" Will turned. "And what are we doing over land, at this altitude? Isn't this, more or less, what you would call suicide?"

"The Sands." Tiberian repeated intensely, as if saying it again would make it mean something more the second time around. "The Sands of Serendipity. Where are you from?"

"Of course." Will responded facetiously.

"No?" The captain's eyes grew wide. "Back when I was... shall we say a private captain, this was one of our riskier routes. The only one we'd ever be brave enough to make on this side of the wall, mind you. Always off the books."

He winked at Will.

"We used to make so much money doing this." Tiberian smiled proudly to himself.

"Wait. What do you mean by 'private captain?' " Will asked.

A pause fell over the deck. The captain's face grew a bit red.

"It's all in the past now."

Will was growing concerned the man hadn't answered his question.

"What are you talking about?" He asked again.

"Let me ask you something, William." The captain walked beside Will and turned his attention downward, to the sands below. "Would you enjoy a nice, brisk walk down there?"

Will gave him a funny look.

Already the heat was beginning to bake the deck. It must have been nearly a hundred degrees, and the sun had barely crested the horizon. Those sands looked more than capable of swallowing a person whole.

"Didn't think so." Tiberian said bitterly. "That's the point."

"So..." Will began. "We're not going down there. That's good. But you still haven't answered my question. Why are we here?"

"Those sands move on their own. No one quite knows why. But they can kill in seconds. Swallow someone whole. Especially on a hot day like this. Only airships come through here—nothing and no one else."

"The Sands of Serendipity will kill you..." Will raised his eyebrows.

"Yep." The captain replied jovially. "Bit of a misnomer. It's not so much the sands that are lucky. It's what's on the other side of them."

"Ok. What's that?"

The captain smirked deviously. "Did you really think we were going to sail through Aru in a ship that's got Elysian colors all over its hull and sails?"

"When you put it like that..."

"You think our own airships never cross the wall, don't you?" He grabbed Will by the shoulder, then looked back out at the desert sands. "There's money to be made over here... more than a soldier, or even a captain, would ever dream of seeing in our country. But they don't do it in Elysian garb. That's for damned sure."

"You were never a private captain, were you?"

The sides of Tiberian's lips curled.

"It's a matter of perspective." He looked out at the morning sun. "We don't always have orders from the capital."

Will shook his head, laughing to himself.

"So, what? You take navy ships out here to smuggle? Is that where we're going? To your smuggling den?"

The captain shifted his posture.

"The smuggling den. Ok. Great. What's the plan?"

"Giving the ship a change of clothes. That's all."

"What is this creature!?" Khel's disturbed voice bellowed through the morning air.

Will turned. A loud, cheerful barking called across the deck of the ship.

"Wherever did you encounter this foul beast?"

Khel had just emerged from the foredecks. Nipping at his heels and jumping up at his shins was a small, fluffy animal. It was mostly amber and white in color—with a long, pointed nose, sharp ears, and large, round brown eyes. Its legs were short and stumpy. Its silky coat covered its rotund body, which looked much too large for its comically small legs.

"What?" Tiberian asked halfway through a laugh. "Alfie's my best friend. Every ship's got to have a pup. Ours... is a corgi."

"Off, fetid brute!" Khel howled, arms outstretched menacingly.

He looked like he was contemplating how to dispatch Alfie, but he didn't quite have the nerve. In the meantime, Alfie was excitedly jumping up and down at his legs, tongue hanging out, wide grin across his face. Will had never seen any creature so excited.

Stray, amused looks were beginning to coalesce on Khel from the sailors across the deck.

"Look, you made a friend." Anaia said softly, walking out onto into the golden sun behind Khel.

"Laugh it up." Khel growled.

Anaia got down onto the ground to pet Alfie, but he was having none of it. The corgi sauntered even closer to Khel, where he plopped down right on top of his feet and laid there, licking his boots and panting with quiet satisfaction.

"What have you done..."

"What?" Anaia asked with a helpless grin. "I tried. He likes you."

"Now I can't even move." Khel spoke in a hushed, gravelly tone.

The sailors on deck stared wide-eyed.

"I can't believe I didn't kill you when I had the chance." Khel grumbled under his breath, glaring at Anaia.

"No need to get nasty." Anaia moved closer to the corgi. "Let's see what we can do here." Anaia inched closer. Alfie began growling. The closer she got to Khel, the louder he growled.

"Nope." She said, springing back up to her feet. "This is for you to figure out."

"This is what I get for switching sides? For saving you?"

He looked down at the corgi. Alfie looked back, a great wild grin on his face.

"You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"I should have kept up with the torture. He would have come with me eventually."

"Just... give him a pet or two. I don't know."

Khel shot her a contemptuous glare. Alfie basked in the sunlight on Khel's boots, eyes open just enough to watch Khel. As he reached down, Alfie shook with excitement, pointed ears moving back and forth.

Khel reached down and scratched Alfie's ears. The ship erupted into applause.

Alfie leapt off of Khel's feet and ran over to the captain.

"Not bad." Tiberian announced to the dog with a twinkle in his eye, patting Alfie on the head and giving him a treat.

Khel stood there blankly for a moment, as if in shock.

Tiberian nudged Will with his elbow.

"We're here." He said quietly. "Beautiful, isn't she?"

#

# 

# Chapter 60 - Tal'vén

The sands split off, revealing a vast ravine of beige sandstone beset by a wide and tranquil river.

Up ahead of the entrance to the canyon, through the morning mist, were natural archways of stone, maroon and gold—throwing themselves into the golden-blue sky. They rose from the tops of the canyon walls, casting shadows all the way back past the Dawn.

The ship began a steady descent, aiming itself precisely beneath the archway through a gap in the canyon walls.

At this, the captain—who had been staring over the edge—bolted back to the mast, holding the button down.

"Careful, Cole." He barked. "That starboard side is too close."

A drawling voice snapped back.

"I gotcha, cap'. We'll get her down to those markets safe and sound, don't you worry."

Tiberian took his hand off the button, muttering to himself. "Don't you worry, he says." He grumbled, shaking his head. "One of these times, he'll kill us all."

The captain raised his eyes a second later, as if he only then realized Will was there.

"Hot shot." He grumbled. "Cole's the best pilot on the continent. Best first officer, too. Could have had his own command twice over by now. Should've taken it."

"Why didn't he?" Will asked, curious.

"I have no idea." The captain replied. "Don't know why he sticks around with a stodgy old man like me. Gets a bit of leeway around here. But go and take a look. That rock is not three feet off the hull." The captain looked worried, but proud. It was an odd contradiction.

Will paced to the side of the ship.

Three feet was generous. There were inches between the descending hull and the jagged stone to the left. Some of the masts looked like they might come into contact with the sharp rocks at any moment.

"Your luxury liner's about to decorate the bottom of the canyon." Khel's bored drawl called out behind.

Will turned. Khel's eyes were focused on the same place Will's had been.

"Ye of little faith." Anaia added.

"Did you see that?" Khel gestured up at the central mast.

"Yeah, I saw the mast miss rocks. Calm yourself."

"You..." Khel matched her grin, from eye to eye. He was on the verge of responding, but he thought better of it.

In any event, she was right. Despite hair-raising tension in the air and a persistent silence across the deck, everything turned out. In a flawless display of piloting skill, the Dawn cleared the stone on both sides.

The ship lurched forward, to the canyon below.

Fresh sunlight reflected down through wide gaps above, all the way around a vast, circular ravine. The natural archways of stone were directly overhead, glistening in the golden glow of a young day.

Sunlight refracted all across the great sandstone valley. Below the ship was a lake of clear water. A stone pillar several thousand feet tall rose from its center, growing wider as it did.

Hanging from that pillar was a city of rope and wood, stretching from the lake at the bottom to the lip of the cavern at the top. Uncountable thickly bundled cords were suspended from the rock at all levels, holding up all manner of structures. These included dozens of airship docking ports to mirror the docks for nautical ships around the lake below. A half-dozen airships were moored here, and double that number of sailing ships on the lake.

Two placid rivers connected to the body of water below—the one they had overflown on their way in, and another veering off to the left, up ahead.

Rope walkways branched across the structures in all directions—some veering off upwards, some downwards, rotating clear around the great pillar of sandstone.

Most of the structures took on an oval shape, with curving roofs sloped gently downwards. Ropes held everything in place. It all had a rickety look, but a permanence also.

As they drew closer, Khel began to chuckle to himself.

"What?" Will asked.

"Oh, nothing." He replied. "It's just... I think I had the wrong impression of Valis."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Will asked with a vague smile.

"Last night I watched you people fly an airship loaded with high explosives into a concentrated siege. That's cold. Even by Legion standards. And now? Well... here we are. I'm surprised you were able to find Tal'vén. Let alone have the guts to bring the cruise liner here."

He laughed harder.

"It's got your flag on it and everything."

Will stared.

"What kind of reception are we in for?"

The mooring dock was getting closer.

"You don't even know?" Khel looked from Will over to the captain, who glared back. "You must know. You brought them here... But you haven't told them. Wonderful."

"Oh, for God's sake, Khel." Anaia was growing impatient. "Out with it already."

Khel looked back over at Will.

"This... is a pirate den." He said in his most characteristic growl. "No, that's not right. This is the pirate den." He couldn't help but grin sadistically. Expectantly.

He looked back at the captain.

"How did you even find this place?" Khel could hardly contain his twisted excitement.

"Where are the others?" Will asked, looking to the doors at the foredecks. "Julian and Grace? Evelyn?"

"What?" He laughed. "You're asking me? Just be glad they're not here."

The ship shook as it impacted mid-air docks. Deckhands were quick to tie the ship to its new home.

Khel tapped Will on the shoulder, pointing to a dozen burly men in black outfits who had emerged from a nearby structure to stand at the dock that connected to the ship. Swords were on their belts, and the looks on their faces were anything but welcoming. They blocked the entrance.

For a moment, everything was still.

Everyone stared. Some on the deck reached for their own weapons. The captain stepped forward, calmly gesturing for his men to stand down. Seconds drew on in tense silence. Even Alfie was quiet. As Tiberian stepped forward, Alfie backed away towards Khel with a whimper. From the back of the group, Khel looked down and hazarded a few pets when it looked like no one could see.

The wall of black-clad swordsmen parted.

A pot-bellied man wandered out, waddling slightly—coin purse awkwardly positioned beside his belly.

Coins jingled as he walked. He wore fine clothing. His shirt was pressed, and the pinstriped jacket over it had not a single wrinkle. He wore a hot-pink tie, with a gold tie bar and a lavender carnation in his shirt pocket. His top hat was tall and white, drawing even more attention. He stared at the captain with quiet animosity.

Then, in an instant, the expression reversed itself.

"Everett!"

The man gave a booming, boisterous chortle. He ran onto the ship, coins making quite the racket. "Arghh!" He wrapped his arms around the captain and gave him a long hug. "My prodigal business partner has returned! And I haven't even spent all the money we made together last time."

"Arkano." Tiberian announced through the thick embrace. "It's good to see you, my friend. It has been too long."

"Figures." Khel grumbled under his breath.

"And look at this." The man said in awe, looking from one side of the Dawn to the other, pacing across the deck and looking up at the sails. "Everett... there are no gas bags on this airship."

He stepped back, looking across the hull, examining it with quiet intensity. A second later he looked to Tiberian again.

"Is this what I think it is?" He asked in a hushed tone, eyes wide. "The Elysian flagship? The famed August Dawn, gracing my humble abode? I sure hope you didn't steal this..."

"You wound me, Arkano." Tiberian said in a mock-hurt tone.

"You have moved up in the world, friend." Arkano looked to Tiberian with a newfound respect.

"And?" Arkano bumped into Will. "Who might you be?" The man looked him up and down, as if assessing his worth.

"Arkano." The captain said in a hushed tone. "I present the Sovereign of Elysia."

The trader gave the captain a funny look. He began to laugh rowdily to himself. He slapped the captain on the back, hard—coins jingling in his bag.

"You always had a dry sense of humor, Everett." Arkano shot the captain an odd smile. "Come on, then! Let's get you and your friend back to the clearinghouse, figure out why you're here. This is looking to be a very profitable day."

He started across the makeshift wooden bridge back to the structure nearest the docks.

As he crossed the bridge, he twirled his arm. The guards dispersed. Tiberian followed, gesturing to Will, Anaia, and Khel, and Aria. They all crossed after him, feet clanking on the wooden planks beneath, bound by bundles of rope on the far sides. Through cracks in the wood, Will could see all the way to the docks and the lake below. It was some thousand feet down.

"So tell me, Tiberian." Arkano asked, just as Tiberian caught up with him, reaching his right side. "How's that navy of yours treating you these days? I hear there's a war on."

"It's why I'm here." Tiberian replied steadily.

"Ah, yes." Arkano replied loudly. "War is good and bad for business... as you well know. Depends on what business you're in. Thankfully, I've got my hands in a little bit of everything."

"I think you'll find our proposal... profitable." The captain gave a polished smile.

"I like the sound of that." Arkano replied in a booming voice. "I like the sound of that very much. Knowing you, I am inclined to believe it." He stared back at the captain with a glint of avarice and danger.

Arkano looked back, inquisitive. His eye settled on Will for a moment.

But in another instant, his eyes moved back forward. They had arrived.

The stone pillar sloped precipitously upwards, holding the great wooden structure up with dozens of bundled cords. Will was surprised the thing stayed together. Made entirely of old wood, it did not give the appearance of sturdiness. But no one looked worried—despite the thousand-foot fall, should the ancient-looking ropes give way.

The old wooden door to the great hall creaked open.

Will felt the air escape his lungs.

He had not really considered what to expect, but he had only the outside to go on—slipshod, built with ropes and old boards. The inside was nothing like that.

This was a palace.

It was an ornate, oval-shaped room, crowned by a hand-carved mahogany throne. Torches on both sides illuminated long tables, where attendants were emerging with all manner of appetizers and drinks. Wooden chairs were set up for guests all around. These were nearly as beautiful as Arkano's, but not quite—and noticeably smaller. The roof was thatched straw.

Arkano took a seat on his raised throne, gesturing for his guests to sit at the far end of his domain. He crossed one leg over the other and began to partake of the feast prepared by his horde of servants.

Will looked down at the platters of food and the ridiculous beverage choices. The table was full of food—from one end to the other.

Will spent some time poring over the selections. There were mixed, omelette-like concoctions with toppings foreign to him—eggs fried, scrambled, and poached—sizzling meats with grilled onions and peppers—and dozen different types of flatbreads to go with them.

This was to say nothing of the dessert table. Will's senses were overwhelmed.

Anaia and Khel began telekinetically filling their plates, each grabbing mugs of coffee.

Will found himself staring at the contents of the table. He hadn't touched breakfast yet.

"Not to worry, Sovereign." Arkano chuckled to himself, sensing Will's hesitation. "I don't make a habit of poisoning guests in my own home."

He gave a thick smile.

"Not until they give me a reason."

Will looked worried.

"A joke." Arkano replied with a quiet chuckle. He set his glass down and gestured to an attendant. "Another, please! That was just... perfect." He gesticulated wildly. His great belly wobbled, and the pink tie he wore snapped loose from its gold clip.

The attendant hurried off, nodding meekly.

Will reluctantly began to partake, filling his plate with a little bit of everything. The food was every bit as delectable as it looked and smelled.

It had to be, Will supposed. This was his way of wooing potential business partners. The man knew how to conduct business.

"So tell me, Everett." Arkano began, leaning back—half-finished platter of food on his lap. "What half-baked scheme is up your sleeve this time?"

Anaia mouthed to the captain. "This time?"

"Half-baked?" The captain responded, mock-hurt.

"Please." Arkano barked through a mouthful of food. "You know you're my favorite."

"We're going to unseat the Avatar." Tiberian said matter-of-factly, not looking up from his food.

Arkano stared for the next few moments, continuing to chew. He even took a sip of his drink, nodding patiently.

"Okay." He took it in stride. "Where's the return?"

"We need your help to outfit the ship." Tiberian replied. "To disguise her. We need to look like one of yours."

"Nope. Same question." Arkano replied. "What's in it for me?"

His eyes were steely now, and they drifted to Will. Arkano knew this was a serious proposition. No sane person would mention an attempt on the Avatar's life without a way of evening the odds.

Serious matters were discussed in this room. That was the reason for the food. Well-fed patrons, filled with a few drinks, were a little more pliant—a little more reasonable.

"Well?" Tiberian asked, looking his host in the eyes. "What do you want?" He shrugged.

"Answer me this." A smile shot across Arkano's lips as he stared at Will. "What was that gag about the Sovereign? What's your angle?"

"Arkano..." Tiberian replied, feigning insult. "I know it may be hard to believe that the likes of me might have risen so high in the world. But you had best try."

Arkano shook his head back and forth, smiling broadly.

"When I first saw you, I knew you and I would go far together. You sailed on in here in that little windbag... not exactly the pride of the fleet. What was that thing called?"

"The Alestris." Tiberian said softly.

"That's it." Arkano chuckled. "And now look at you. Captain of the Dawn. 'Sovereign' at your side. Well, I'll tell you what. I have a rule. I don't get involved with the powers of the world. Too much risk."

"It's alright." Will said abruptly, dropping his fork on the plate staring at Arkano with a fiery gaze. "It was worth a try, Tiberian. Not every towering reputation can live up to its name. No harm done."

Will stood up.

In a dramatic scoff, Arkano spit up a mouthful of food.

Tiberian glowered conspicuously.

"So he does speak." Arkano replied in a sly, devious tone, shooting him a look halfway between admiration and contempt. "I didn't say we couldn't deal. I'm deciding what to make of you. Is this the Sovereign of Elysia, meekly toying with his food, deciding whether to take a bite?"

He stared at Will.

Will stared back, trying to think of a response.

"You could get a lot of people killed. Including my partner here. He is a clever man, and he's worth a lot of money to me." Arkano spoke slowly, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Of course he is." Anaia grumbled under her breath.

"He's the real deal." Tiberian insisted.

"I know you think that. I can see it in your face." Arkano said glibly. "You've never been a liar of any significance."

Will raised his hand. One of the flatbread slices flew off of Arkano's plate and towards Will. He caught it in his hand and took a bite.

"Little salty." Will said.

Khel groaned loudly, burying his face in his palms.

"That's it?" The pirate-king scoffed, preparing to get to his feet. "The chef who prepared the food does that every day. He looked to Tiberian. "You had best reconsider your delusions of grandeur, friend."

Will unbuttoned his shirt and held up the Arcstone.

"Oh, look!" Arkano said with a chuckle, looking to Tiberian. "He wears a necklace. How nice for him."

Will sighed.

All the torchlight in the room went out. Will caught it in his hand, where it swirled into a ball of white light.

One of the attendants dropped an empty plate, which shattered. Will threw the light up. It exploded across the ceiling. For a few seconds, the roof looked like it was made of light.

The torches re-lit themselves.

The ceiling was transparent now. The thatched roof was visible, but so was everything beyond. The morning sun pierced the gaps in the canyon ceiling, glistening across the walls and the lake below. Blue skies shone through beyond the top of the sandstone pillar above.

"Someone's been practicing." Khel murmured.

"Alright. Fine. I don't know what you're into here. But I want a piece of it. Let's deal." Arkano said matter-of-factly. "We're talking significant compensation. I'm not risking the Avatar's bad side for nothing."

"I know just the thing." Tiberian's eyes gleamed.

#

# 

# Chapter 61 - The Hanging Markets

"What were you thinking?" Anaia seethed.

"What?" Tiberian asked tepidly, backing away as the door shut gently behind.

"How does it feel?"

"What?" The captain's voice rose defensively.

"I can't believe what I just heard." She hissed.

"Okay, hold on a minute." Tiberian protested. "We're getting it back in a month, on our way out of this country."

"Were you born yesterday, my good man?" Anaia responded. "It's Highcraft."

"You don't know Arkano." Tiberian responded simply. "A deal is a deal, with him. You break a contract, and you're dirt. His enemies have a tendency to become dirt. He has a code, and he sticks to it. He will never turn on his word. I promise you that much."

"Well, I'm glad you're so trusting." She announced.

"And second of all," Tiberian continued, "it's our spare Highcraft core. We never use the spare. As in, not once. I've never used it, for as long as I've been captain. The core has a perfect maintenance record."

"Oh, this will end well." Aria grumbled.

"You mean to say, if it breaks down without a spare..." Will began.

"We're hoofing it, yes." The captain admitted. "Never going to happen."

"We'll get some exercise." Aria smiled.

"Are you trying to get us killed?" Anaia stared.

"Look, if there had been another way—an easier way—I would have taken it. But you heard. He wasn't about to get on the Avatar's bad side without compensation... of the serious variety. It's a big risk."

"Don't talk to me about his risk. Think about what we're getting ourselves into." Anaia turned. Dock workers were already crawling around the ship, changing the colors and outrigging with efficiency. "You didn't have to replace his risk with ours."

"I've been captain of the Dawn for years. I'm telling you. The spare core is peace of mind. Nothing more. Just don't... tell anybody it's gone. We'll be fine." Tiberian replied. "Besides, if I'm wrong, you'll get to tell me you told me so later."

"Not that it would exactly matter at that point, would it?" Anaia said dryly.

"Look at them go." Tiberian watched the workers crawl over the Dawn, scaffolds suspended by rope. "I don't even want to think about what she'll look like tonight."

"Tonight?" Will asked, shocked. "Why so long?"

"What do you mean 'why so long?' " The captain replied, raising his eyebrows. "They've got a week's worth of work to do, and we've given them less than a day to do it. A day is the best anyone could do."

"Look, they've even got a mage out there ripping off pieces of the hull." Khel chuckled. "That's cute."

"We can't afford the delay." Will protested. "Lewis is probably being tortured as we speak."

"Calm yourself." Khel replied. "He doesn't know anything. The Avatar can be cruel when it suits him. But he's not cruel for cruelty's sake."

"Tell that to my family." Aria chided.

Anaia sighed.

"He doesn't revel in it. He justifies it. He didn't want your family to die. To him, they had to die."

"Why?" Aria burst out. "Explain that to me. How is my family's life less than... anything?"

"He doesn't think like that." Khel said quietly. "The ends justify the means. Period. That's what he is. It's that simple."

Silence fell outside Arkano's palace of shambles. Aria returned her gaze to the ships coming and going from the harbor below.

"No, William." Khel continued. "Your friend won't be tortured unless there's something to be gained. Unless he has something to offer. And he doesn't."

"Quite an assumption." Will grumbled. "And even if it's true, what are we supposed to do until tonight? Sit here and wait?"

"The Markets." Tiberian offered with a proud grin.

Khel scoffed. "Might've known you would say that."

"Aww, come on." The captain responded at Khel. "Don't give me that. Get us something to keep the trip interesting. The Elysian food is great, but we've got weeks to go. What they sell down there could make everything better. Plus, it could be fun!"

"What do they sell down there?" Will asked. "Do I even want to know?"

"What do they sell in the Hanging Markets of Tal'vén?" Tiberian replied. "There's no telling. Every day is a new day. Bring me some spices, some rum, some tobacco. Surprise me!"

"I thought Arunite products weren't allowed on Elysian navy vessels." Anaia grinned subtly.

Khel chuckled to himself.

"We're not in Valis anymore, are we?" Tiberian asked with a twinkle in his eye. "You want a loyal crew out here? That's how you get one."

Julian and Grace came bounding across the bridge from the Dawn to the hanging dock, holding hands, broad smiles across their faces. They looked thrilled at all the new sights, and freshly groomed to meet the new morning. Julian had put something new in his hair. His clothes were cleaned and pressed. He wore a canary blue shirt with ivory-white pants and a jacket of the same color. Grace wore a flowing blue dress to match Julian's shirt. Her hair was pristine.

At seeing this, Khel couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing so hard he had to turn around. He tried to stop, but couldn't. He even walked away. Every now and then he would turn back, then away again, laughing even harder.

"Nice of you to join us." Will remarked with a genuine smile. "You two are looking dapper this morning."

"Thank you, William." Grace replied with a surprised smile. "Picked these up from the ship's stores."

Julian began to glare at Khel, who by now was finally beginning to calm down.

"What is so funny?" Frustration was building in his voice.

Khel turned around.

"It's just..." He began laughing again. "You're going to the Hanging Markets, in that?"

"What's wrong with what we're wearing?" Julian asked.

"It's Tal'vén." Khel said simply and with finality—as if that was the end of the matter.

Everyone just stared. He sighed in frustration, shaking his head.

"Arunites all know the name Tal'vén. We learn it as children. Bedtime stories told to frighten us into submission. Timid adults don't dare speak it. People... disappear here. Some willingly. Some... not so much."

Julian and Grace traded nervous glances.

"Okay. Think of it this way. All the pirates and villains and scum the other slums in Aru tossed out generations ago? They all needed somewhere to go."

He looked the two of them over again with another poorly concealed chuckle.

"Look at you. Is that a flower in your lapel?" Khel snarled at Julian. "You're going to die."

Julian's glare grew deeper and more consistent. It was beginning to look like his resting facial expression, with Khel around.

Evelyn crossed the bridge behind, in a much more reasonable outfit.

"What's going on?" She asked, looking from Will to Khel to Julian and Grace.

"We were just explaining this place is not for the faint of heart." Khel said to Evelyn. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I look like 'the faint of heart' to you?" Evelyn replied with a subtle grin. It looked a bit forced. "That was rhetorical."

She looked over to Julian and Grace.

"What are you two wearing?" She asked, eyes wide.

"Forget it." Julian mumbled.

"We have until sundown." Will said. "That's how long it will take to fix the ship."

"What are you going to do? Leave us here if we don't make it back?" Aria snapped.

"Tiberian, you've been here before. You want to... lead on?" Will asked.

"Knew you were going to ask that." The captain grinned. "Moreland's probably wondering what's happened already. Besides, the Markets are... no place for an old man. I've had my share of fun down there."

"Sly dog." Khel chortled, shaking his head. "And you play a Valisian military officer during the day."

Tiberian bounded off towards the ship without another word.

"So... Khel." Will started, a smile breaking its way across his face.

Khel groaned.

"Here's a question." Khel replied glumly. "Why?"

"Why what?" Will asked.

"Why do you want to go down there?" Khel asked.

"Why not?" Will asked, smiling subtly. "We can't go anywhere else. We've got the whole day. Who knows what we'll find?"

"Do you ever listen?" Khel asked.

"No." Anaia answered for him.

"Hopeless." Khel turned and made his way to the front of the group. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

The narrow rope bridge swayed precariously as they made their way down to the next suspended platform.

"What's the matter, Khel?" Anaia teased. "Worried about a few pirates?"

"It's not me I'm concerned about." He responded, turning his head back. "It's the fine Valisian tourists. This place is not for the likes of you."

"You being protective?" She quipped. "How sweet."

"Suit yourselves." He grumbled. "There are no laws here."

"None?" Grace asked.

"You heard me." Khel replied.

Julian and Grace shot each other glances. Aria leapt forward, passing Will.

The walk down was a long one—filled with curving, suspended rope bridges. Some swayed more than five feet in each direction with the gentlest wind. Shots of adrenaline followed any wayward glances downward. The water was so far down. And the gaps in the planks underfoot allowed for a clear view.

The further down they drew along the rope bridges, the more strangers they encountered. The crowds were about what Will expected. Most denizens looked—and smelled—like they hadn't showered in months. There was a breeze, but not nearly enough to keep the stench at bay.

They were about three hundred feet up from the docks. Outdoor taverns were everywhere, with benches strewn about. They were nearly all full. Despite the early hour of the morning—probably ten, by now—everyone was drinking. Men and women staggered around with half-empty bottles of rum and whiskey. Others nursed enormous mugs of beer that looked like they could each hold a couple of pints. Clouds of smoke billowed out of elaborate, hand-carved wooden pipes.

Arguments devolved into fistfights, attracting cheering crowds. The first two such brawls avoided the use of weapons, but the third ended with a bottle cracked over a large man's head. This accomplished little—except to cause the one who swung it to begin drinking quickly, so as to avoid wasting its precious contents. It also earned him a slug to the head.

Folk song erupted all around. Handheld instruments were everywhere—guitars, flutes, even lyres and violins. Feet tapped along with the tunes. The music was surprisingly good. Even though he couldn't understand the words, Will found himself captivated by the melodies. Some part of him wanted to join in.

Every now and then vendors would walk by, wearing large overcoats specially outfitted to hold the wares they were trying to sell. They wandered by the outside of the outdoor spaces, shouting in Arunite and gesturing wildly to the opened contents of their coats. They looked to have just enough luck to justify their presence here—and no more. Occasionally they would complete a sale to someone or another, usually in private. But often they would have empty glass bottles hurled at them from across the patio—their punishment for interrupting the music.

Khel led the group around the outside of the space, where another path connected downwards. No one here seemed to have the slightest care about what was going on towards the periphery, or to take much notice of them. Will saw a couple of errant looks shoot their way. But as they weren't interrupting anything, they were allowed to pass in relative peace.

The next suspended rope-and-plank bridge was the longest yet. It curved all the way down to the second level, just a hundred or so feet above the docks. It took them five minutes of hiking just to get down there. It was a silent walk, as these planks were so loosely supported by the rope that it took concentration just to keep balance.

Another group passed them on the bridge.

"Excuse me." Julian said in a defiant tone when someone bumped him on the shoulder.

Everyone in the group opposite stopped.

Khel stepped up, staring back at the newcomers. He snarled indecipherably in Arunite and gestured back at Julian.

The leader of the other group, a large, bald man who smelled as though he had never bathed in his life, smiled and laughed to himself, nodding. Everyone in his group followed him away.

"What was that about?" Julian hissed at Khel.

"Where are we?" Khel asked without turning back.

"What?" Julian replied, confused.

"Don't act like you can't hear me."

"We're in Tal'vén. Your pirate den."

"That's right." Khel said, speaking to Julian as though he were a child. "And where is that located on a map?"

"Aru." Julian replied in a low voice.

"There we go!" Khel grinned sardonically. "Do you think they speak Elysian in Aru?"

Julian was silent for a moment.

"You already stick out like the captain's corgi in this place." Khel snapped. "You may as well keep your mouth shut."

"What did you tell that guy about Julian?" Grace snapped.

"I told him you two were fresh captives from across the wall." Khel said. "Most plausible story around here."

"Captives?" Grace asked, aghast. "Very nice. Thank you, Khel."

"You're the ones wanted to see the world." Khel spat. "It's not all high society and fancy clothes."

"You would certainly know." Grace chided.

"Next time I'll keep my mouth shut." Khel replied darkly. "I'll let you handle it."

"Fine by me." She replied obstinately under her breath.

"Whoa." Will said suddenly.

They had run out of bridge. The next platform was the largest yet, by far—ten city blocks wide—suspended by hundreds of thick, bundled ropes—stringing up all the way to the top of the pillar, at the edge of sight above. The vast wooden platform was teeming with movement.

An undulating mass of humanity shifting between dozens of market stalls. The sound was constant and deafening. Uncountable multitudes wandered from bridge to bridge—buying, selling, bartering. The same laissez-faire attitude dominated here, with fights rapidly breaking out between merchants and customers. No one interfered, but neither did crowds form like they did above. Everyone more or less went about their business.

Music rang out over and above the constant song of the crowds. Here, it came from individual performers who had set up donation boxes out of instrument cases. These universally carried weapons to protect themselves—and their exposed credits. Gangs of thieves would sometimes try to mug the musicians. Nearby merchants whose businesses they benefited would try to protect them, leading to bloody brawls—knives against swords.

Even with the makeshift shades above the market stalls, it could not have been cooler than 110 degrees in the shade. And the shade did not extend far. The unwashed masses were out in the sun, accustomed to it. Even in mid-morning, it was abundantly clear they were in the desert now. It was not even summer. Fall was well underway, and had been for months.

A gang of thieves bolted at Julian and Grace, drawing knives. Despite his threats to stay out of any trouble, Khel telekinetically hurled the assailants back. The attackers' knives clattered across the platform, falling through gaps into the lake below. They climbed to their feet and bolted off into the crowd.

Eyes began to make their way towards the newcomers. The chatter died down a bit.

Khel gave a melodramatic sigh.

"Wish someone could have anticipated this."

"You're wasted as a bodyguard, Khel." Will shot him a devious grin and walked forward into the crowd.

Khel shook his head and half-glared, half-smiled back at Will.

This place was every bit as chaotic as it looked. Arms reached out of the crowd, trying to grab them and pull them away. It wasn't clear whether it was to rob them or to try to do business with them. The smell was overpowering—even stronger than it had been at the taverns. Everyone reeked of strong alcohol. Tobacco smoke billowed upwards in a permanent, stifling haze—as if it belonged there. Each time the winds carried one wave of haze off, it was promptly replaced by another. Will detected several scents of tobacco smoke. There were fruity varieties, tangy concoctions... even a few that reminded Will of the pine trees of home.

The aromas of fresh meats, onions, and peppers sizzling on grills wafted over them, too. Spread out throughout the crowd were portable food carts, with tent-like contraptions and shouting vendors. The best of these were thriving, with lines forming at all angles behind them. They smelled fantastic. The smells of the grill mixed with the tangy smoke in the air.

Julian and Grace kept receiving more and more of the locals' attention. Most of this took the form of gaggles following them—mostly children—tugging at their clothes and making valiant offers to sell exotic items. All the words coming their way were in Arunite. So they just watched, gazing with fascination at the odds and ends thrust in their faces from all directions.

One of the children held a rack of framed, moving pictures—of the two of them, no less. At first, it wasn't clear to Will what the photos were supposed to be. But then he recognized one of them—the very last one. It was the night the two of them left Illuar together, with Will, Anaia, and Lewis in the background.

These were memories for sale—preserved in marble and obsidian, glowing even through the light of the early morning sun. This boy held up three fingers.

"Three?" Julian asked. "As in, three credits? That's it?"

Grace elbowed Julian in the ribs. "Don't tell him that's it, or he'll empty our coin purses. Just buy the thing already." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a few one-credit coins.

"He doesn't speak Elysian." Julian quipped quietly.

"That's just what he wants you to think."

Grace smiled at the young boy.

"Which one, then?" She asked, looking over at him with a longing smile, then back to the moving pictures. "The night we met?"

"Look at that one. The Morgana Manor in the Top City." He responded with a grin. "Right after that, we..."

"Yes, thank you." Grace responded with a blush. "They don't need to know." She paused for a moment. "Look at this one. The day we decided to run away."

"Why don't we just get all of them?" Julian suggested wearily.

"How romantic." She looked at him with shallow frustration. "But we could always go over them later. There are... what, a dozen? That won't make such a dent." She pulled some coins out of her bag, bumping Julian in the arm to get him to do the same.

They combined them, handed them to the boy, and he handed them his collection of their memories. Julian and Grace spent the next few moments going over the moving pictures before putting them away in their bags.

"Better watch out, you two." Khel warned. "Keep going, you'll have no coins and sore arms from carrying."

Sure enough, another child vendor—a girl this time, soon took the place of the one who had just backed away.

In her hands, the girl had a smooth white rock. She touched the stone. Orbs of light released into the air, swirling around Julian and Grace and forming a shape in front of them.

It was a moving image—three-dimensional and vivid. Sharp green mountains and jade-blue skies shot past. The two looked on, enthralled, as a humble country home appeared.

The image entered the home.

Julian and Grace—or older versions of them—were inside. Both were cooking, simultaneously shepherding three children—two girls and a boy between the ages of six and twelve—to a quaint living room, where a fire was brewing in the fireplace and a dinner table was set for five.

The image flew into it and disappeared, leaving a slight, silvery glow on the stone's surface.

The girl looked to Khel, then said something in Arunite. Khel translated. "She says it costs thirty credits."

"Thirty?" Grace shouted.

Julian had already been rummaging through his coin purse. He handed his coins to the girl without a word. She tapped the stone again. Again, it summoned the image. She tossed it over with a smile.

"Nice." Grace chastised as the girl disappeared into the crowd. "I was going to try to haggle, but that's shot now."

Julian's eyes were still locked on the image the stone had summoned, which was almost the same the second time around. Only slight details were different. By now, it looked like the images of the two of them had almost finished cooking eggs and bacon.

"Look at them." He said, astounded—watching the image of an older-looking Grace chasing three children around the house as his likeness finished serving breakfast to the family. "Do you suppose it's our future?"

Khel chuckled to himself.

"How much money do you think they brought with them?" Evelyn whispered to Anaia.

At seeing their peers' success, swarms began descending upon the pair of them. An ever-growing crowd appeared, offering more and more trinkets both personal and wondrous.

"Not enough." Aria answered their question, pointing.

Julian and Grace looked into their coin purses, which were noticeably lighter. Grace caught Julian's eye, and the message was clear. No more.

Julian tapped the stone. The image retreated back into it.

Suddenly, the children dissipated.

Seconds later, a gang of adult men swept into the crowd, taking their place in a well-rehearsed maneuver. At least four pairs of hands grabbed onto Grace. Foul cackles rang out through the market as the crowds gave the gang space to do its work.

Out of nowhere and without letting go of her belongings, Grace produced a curved blade from a hidden scabbard on her back.

Before the would-be abductors knew what was happening, she had sliced open two of their arms. Great gashes poured blood onto the planks beneath and through to the distant lake below.

Despite their screams, one man kept pulling at Grace's arm with enough force to separate her from the group. She turned and kneed him viciously, then lunged with the cutlass. He vanished into the crowd, his sole remaining companion not far behind.

By this point, everyone around had stopped to stare.

"Where did you...?" Khel began, a little shocked that the subject of his teases was not defenseless at all.

"Not the first time that's happened in my life." She wiped off their blood. "This place has nothing on the Undercities."

"Then maybe you could keep an eye on your boyfriend?" Khel asked, peering over at Julian with a self-satisfied grin. Julian had gotten himself into a shoving match with three scrawny teenage boys, who were all trying to make off with his fancy jacket.

In another second, Julian managed to gain the upper hand. He gracelessly kicked one in the shin, causing all three to run off together.

"You better run!" He called after them.

Grace helped him to his feet.

"So high-maintenance."

"Yeah, yeah." He grumbled, kissing her on the lips. "Place reminds me of home."

"What's this?" Will looked down at his shirt pocket, where a rolled piece of yellowed parchment protruded into the sun.

Someone in the crowd must have left it there as they passed.

He unrolled the parchment.

Upper Level

11 a.m.

Come Alone

"What is it?" Anaia eyed the crowd.

"It's the handwriting." Will said blankly. "I'd recognize this anywhere. It's Lewis' chickenscratch."

#

# 

# Chapter 62 - A Curious Summons

"Trap." Anaia glared at the note.

"Of course it's a trap." Khel shook his head. "What do you want to do about it? He's not going to ignore it. Look in his eyes right now. All emotion."

"Spring it. What else?"

"Seems best." Khel said.

"What?" Will exclaimed, louder than he had anticipated.

"If you think we're going to let you come alone, you're in for a surprise." Anaia replied.

"But..." Will started, looking down at the note.

"Have you forgotten the last time you ran off on your own, thinking you could save the world?"

Will looked away, considering his options.

"Don't think about running." Anaia continued. "You don't even know where the 'upper level' is."

"Okay." Will shrugged. "Let's go."

Khel pointed to a dome-shaped structure suspended above the center of the outdoor market, connected by an elaborate wooden spiral stairway.

"And keep the talking to a minimum." He snapped.

"Why are you looking at me?" Julian asked defensively.

"Straight away with the talking." Khel grumbled. "Keeping you people alive is taxing. Every time I hear your voices I have to resist the urge to incinerate you."

"You'll manage." Anaia growled.

"Just want you to know the sacrifices I'm making here."

The crowds dispersed as they drew forward. The smells grew less pungent.

"What is this place, anyway?" Will asked, noting eyes following their progress towards the stair—some hostile, some curious.

"It's the upper level." Khel responded, as if the answer were obvious. "You want anything valuable in Tal'vén, that's where it will be."

"Why are so few coming up this way?" Evelyn asked, looking up at the stairway, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

"Because if you didn't belong in the upper level, you'd die before making it this far." Khel said quietly. He started up the stairs without another word.

The stairway was hand-carved and recently polished, with characters and landscapes etched into fine cherry wood. The staircase grew wider as they ascended, revealing more of the exceptional detailing. Will couldn't help but wonder who had carved it.

They reached the top in less than a minute.

A cherry door stood before them. Ornate and at least twenty feet tall, Will wasn't sure if he had the strength to open it without the help of magic. A white doorknob, at Will's waist level, was comically small compared to the size of the door.

Khel looked over to him.

"Do you imagine someone's going to invite you in?"

Will touched the knob. It was cold. Quiet reigned here. Even the bustle of the market so far below was perfectly muted. This place was permanent. Immovable. The hardwood beneath made no sound as Will stepped forward.

He creaked the handle to the side, and the door moved of its own accord, swinging with a slow and steady creak.

Will stepped inside.

This space was the antithesis of the markets below.

It was deathly still. There were a dozen people here, at most. They found themselves at the far end of a great, round room with four levels above the first. The floor was composed of a dark hardwood, but both the walls and the ceiling were glass—interspersed with occasional lines of wood connected with the rope outside.

The floor of each level above the first was glass and round, allowing for a full view upwards, to the top of Tal'vén and the dozens of airships docked at the pillar above. Each glass floor was wider than the last. Transparent stairways connected everything. A four-story fountain in the shape of an airship graced the middle of the structure, reaching to the very top. Water poured down from its masts at carefully planned angles.

The inhabitants of this place were sharp, demure—dressed in black. No one paid Will's group any mind. Business being done here was quiet—whispered—too important to be bothered with the likes of a few visitors.

Two pairs of eyes stared down from the second level without regard for decorum. They belonged to a man and a woman, thin, each dressed in black. Each stood at attention, hands vaguely held out in front.

Just as Will thought he saw a flicker of flame burst from one of their hands, a male voice called out from above.

The words were foreign, but the tone was clear.

Stand down.

A cloaked figure on the structure's third level directed his attention to Will. He beckoned upward without another word, then disappeared up the stairs behind.

"Not the most talkative fellow." Evelyn quipped from behind.

Will stepped forward, footsteps echoing throughout the domed structure. His companions followed, setting off a storm of sound and disturbing the quiet of this place.

"Do you think he sent the note?" Julian whispered.

"How should I know?" Grace responded in the same tone.

"Quiet." Khel admonished urgently.

Will stared at their Arunite companion. What had him so spooked?

Will looked up as they reached the second level. He caught another glimpse of the hooded figure peering down at them from high above. With the sun directly behind, he could make out only the hint of a grin.

Will bolted up the glass stairway.

"Will, no!" Anaia's panicked voice called out behind.

By the time he arrived at the top, the figure had already turned towards him.

Still, the face was hidden.

He knew that it was a man, from his earlier words to the guards. But, for the moment, he could make out almost nothing more. A thick, charcoal robe covered everything. The man stood there, hands clasped behind patiently.

For a time, a stillness endured. The man did not move an inch. Finally, footsteps from below made their way here. Khel and Anaia were the first.

"Oh, no." Khel's voice took on a tone of defeat.

Anaia stepped in front of Will, as if to protect him.

Will got the sense both of them recognized something that he did not.

Aria was just behind. A little while later, a beleaguered Grace, Julian, and Evelyn appeared. They panted heavily, struggling to catch their breath.

"What is the big rush?" Julian groaned.

"Quiet." Khel snapped in a terrified staccato.

The man reached up with his hands and lowered the black shroud, revealing his face.

It was Silas. The Avatar.

#

# 

# Chapter 63 - Presage

Anaia didn't hesitate.

A deafening crack of thunder filled the hall. A storm of blue fire and lightning arced from her hands, spreading to the floors and ceiling.

Silas did nothing. His hands stayed clasped behind. The flames dissipated harmlessly once they reached him, fizzling in the air and turning to smoke. Even as the glass beneath cracked in a hundred places and the dome above looked like it could crumble at any moment, he looked on with a faint smile.

Finally she let up, a look of rage in her eyes. The platform all around shuddered. It looked at the verge of shattering. Will was surprised it hadn't already. Great creaking sounds could be heard in the superstructure.

"Anaia..." Silas grinned subtly, shaking his head back and forth.

He subtly waved the fingers on his right hand. Both the floor below and the dome above looked like new.

"Would hate to see you hurt yourself."

"What are you doing here?" Will asked coldly, steadying his voice. "Where is Lewis?"

"Not the friendliest, are you?" Silas' voice was soft. Slow. Almost affable.

"You tried to kill me. You kidnapped my best friend."

"I wanted to have this conversation in private. It would have been simpler."

Seconds passed in silence. Silas' smile only grew.

"No matter." He said quietly. "Your friend is safe."

"I'd like to hear that from him." Will insisted.

"Well?" Silas looked around with a shrug. "I don't see him."

"Why are you here?" Will tried to keep his voice from shaking. "What do you want?"

"You suppose I'd like to kill you."

"Well, you've tried before."

"I can see how it would look that way."

"You tried to burn me alive!" Will shouted.

"If you say so. Yet here we are. There's no killing going on, is there?"

Silence.

"Look at you. So sure of yourself. How wonderful it must be." Silas continued. "To have everything figured out. Right from wrong, good from evil. Clear lines. Certainty is the province of the young."

"If not to kill me, then what?" Will asked.

"I want you to see what you're fighting for." Silas spoke slowly, lips curling upward. "More importantly, who you're fighting against. You would deprive our people of their home without knowing even of us. Well... a single sane one."

He shot Khel a brilliant smile.

"Meet our people. If you're to condemn us, you won't do it in blindness."

"Why do you care what I know about your people?" Will asked, confused. "We both know where this is going."

"You have all the pieces." Silas responded, eyes blazing. "You will put them together, in time."

The Avatar stepped forward. With a rush of wind, he was gone.

#

#

# 

# Chapter 64 - Underway

The Dawn pulled away from Tal'vén. Everyone waved goodbye to Arkano and his exhausted workmen.

Not fifteen minutes earlier, work on the hull had been completed. Arkano had given Tiberian a long hug—as if he wasn't quite sure he would see the captain again. Despite his outward passion for profit, it seemed he did have some genuine fondness for the man.

The Dawn was a new ship. The sails were black—the hull a patched matte-grey. The flag was Arkano's—a circle inside a white, five-pointed star. From the outside it was a ghastly monstrosity—the largest and most advanced privateer vessel to grace the eastern skies. With any luck, Arunites who saw it would keep quiet about the experience.

In no time at all, Cole had deftly maneuvered the ship through the upper gap in the canyon walls. A few gasps rang out amongst the crew. The loudest came from Julian, Grace, and Evelyn, who hadn't been on deck to witness the ship first diving through these narrow sandstone arches and gorges.

The night filled with stars brighter than any Will had ever seen. Not a single cloud impeded the inverted sea of black. Cool, dry night air brushed across his face.

Another moment, and the crew had begun to disperse belowdecks.

Everyone had been deathly quiet since their return.

"Sure glad we gave up the spare core for a disguise." Anaia grumbled, turning away from the side of the ship to Will.

"Keep your voice down." Tiberian hissed, shooting glances to the crewmen standing nearby.

"What are you on about now?" The captain looked at Anaia with renewed annoyance and skepticism, keeping his voice low.

"We met the Avatar." Will said matter-of-factly. "In the Markets."

"What?" Tiberian asked with a laugh. "You mean..."

"In the flesh." Will said quietly.

"Summoned us." Julian corrected. "With a note. There was no subtlety about it."

"Well, no offense intended, but why didn't..." Tiberian began.

"Why didn't he just kill me?" Will finished his question.

"Seems to be the question of the hour." Anaia pitched in, looking at Tiberian. "He says he wants Will to see his country."

"What?" The captain asked again, looking from Anaia to Will with eyes wide.

"Maybe he likes you." Khel added, half-joking. The jest faded as the seconds drew on.

Anaia glared. As the seconds passed the frustration faded, replaced with curiosity. Both of their faces turned to Will.

"Why?" She asked slowly, intensely—staring at Will. "Why would he spare you?"

All eyes were on Will now. Suspicion fell across the deck.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Will asked. "I don't know. I don't know the first thing about him."

"Maybe he does like you." Anaia pondered, voice serious. "Maybe there's something about you that interests him. Something that makes shifting your loyalty important."

"I don't know what that could be..." Will responded blankly.

She looked away bitterly, pacing to the edge of the deck and looking over the edge.

"Does someone want to tell me where I'm steering the ship?" Cole's voice called out through the speaker on the mast.

All eyes fixed on the captain.

"We're six days out from Elvalon." Tiberian announced.

"Elvalon?" Will asked.

"You've not heard of Elvalon? Last Oasis of the East?"

"Will hasn't heard of much." Aria chided.

"Hey..." Will spoke up.

"It's true." She replied. "Come on. I come from the hill country and I've heard of Elvalon."

"Picture a lake as big as the sea." Khel began wistfully. "In the middle of the desert."

"It's not really a lake." Tiberian cut him off. "It's a freshwater sea, fed through the surrounding peaks."

"How is that not a lake?" Aria asked sharply.

Tiberian ignored her. "It connects through tributaries to the Southern Sea, and to Tal'vén."

"Yes, fascinating. Thank you." Khel snapped, glaring with mock seriousness. "If we want a geography lesson, we know who to talk to."

"Why go there?" Will asked, looking to Khel.

"It's the last, best stopping-off point before Elaneth. Also the largest and busiest city in Aru—short of the capital. Elvalon itself is not a week's caravan trip from the palace gates. There's a water route too... of a sort." Khel replied. "If we decide against flying the cruise ship to Elaneth for whatever reason, it's where we want to be."

"Why worry about sailing to Elaneth?" Aria pitched in. "He obviously knows you're coming. You're expected."

"You want to keep your options open when you're dealing with him." Khel replied. "This ship... well, it's not subtle."

"Why worry about keeping our options open?" Will asked.

"Because he's a sociopathic mastermind who's manipulated a continent for three thousand years."

"Alright, alright." Will sighed.

"Everything is deception. Everything. His strategy never becomes clear until it's too late to stop." Khel adopted a severe tone. "Never take what he says at face value."

"Talk about the pot calling the kettle black." Anaia murmured.

Khel shot her a contorted, almost-affectionate look.

"Maybe nothing will happen in the next week." He grumbled. "But we're in the middle of the desert. When you're dealing with him, having a contingency plan is common sense."

"So is that the plan?" Tiberian asked the group, still looking to Will for guidance. "Elvalon?"

"Elvalon it is." Will said with the firmest voice he could muster.

"I don't like this." Anaia said softly, shaking her head.

All eyes centered on her.

"We're in the dark." She continued, voice barely above a whisper. "We know nothing about what's next. About our enemy. About the future. He has every advantage."

"Not quite." Will added, mustering his courage. "We have each other. Having friends you can count on makes the difference."

Aria laughed violently to herself, wandering away.

"I like your attitude, Will." Anaia replied slowly, looking over with concern.

"Meaningless platitudes like that are what get sods like you tortured to death for information." Khel shook his head.

Anaia glared.

"Do you have any way of evening the odds?" Khel asked Will. "Or have you given up already?"

"The Sovereign had an edge." Will replied cryptically. "It's why he never pushed her."

"Great." Khel slapped Will on the back. "Well? Don't stop now. Spit it out."

"You'll see." Will offered a vague smile.

"What's the matter?" Khel asked with a sly grin. "Don't trust me?"

"Hah!" Anaia chuckled. "Trust you..."

Will turned away.

The sun set. The last of the sails finished unfurling. The night air sent chills down Will's spine. He looked down at the murky desert sands shifting by so quietly below.

Anaia was right. There had to be a reason the Avatar was keeping him alive. Whatever it was, he didn't think he was going to like it.

#

# 

# Chapter 65 - Perspective

"Was beginning to forget you were onboard."

Will didn't know what else to say to the quiet figure standing at his door. He turned away quietly and invited Aladrian into his room.

Two days had passed since the group had departed the Hanging Markets. Two uneventful days.

The desert below had blended into a sea of sand. The river beneath would only occasionally come into view. It seemed Cole was using it as a navigational reference. Otherwise, the view was endless dunes. These did not move at all, but for the occasional gust of sand in one direction or another. Occasionally monochromatic mountains appeared to one side or the other. But these were few and far between.

Every now and then Will could have sworn he saw signs of settlement out in the distance. A collection of old stone structures, worn away by time. A dried-up well, ancient and forgotten. There were never signs of activity. No lights after dark, no movement during the day.

For the last three hours, Will had hardly left his room. He spent most of the daylight hours reading through the old tomes Elle had left him. But today, he'd awakened to the sound of an abrupt knock on the door.

He found the old master from Elysia staring down at him with a quizzical, almost judgmental expression. His hair and beard were both tucked into his robe, and he looked at Will above rimless glasses, which—as usual—sat low on his nose.

"Beginning?" The old man chuckled, pushing his way in. "No, I don't think so. I only arrived this morning."

"You... arrived?" Will asked, eyes wide.

"I arrived." Aladrian announced. His eyes surveyed the room. Will's inherited notes were strewn across the table. The bed war unmade, with worn clothes thrown across it. Will felt a pang of embarrassment rise up inside. "How do you get any work done in a place like this?"

"What do you mean you arrived?"

"Translocated from the capital, with the help of the Valarian Academy."

"Uh huh..."

Aladrian beamed with pride. "It's something of a specialty. Still, I wouldn't recommend it. Even with all the help, the feedback has been unpleasant. I won't be of much use for a while." He rubbed his palms on his eyes, then looked up. They were bloodshot. His face was pale and gaunt.

"Why are you here?" Will asked.

"I know what happened at Tal'vén." Aladrian responded, ignoring the question. "I know what he told you. Why you're avoiding your companions, shutting yourself in your room."

"Oh?" Will asked, regretting it straight away.

"You're afraid he's using you. That he has designs for you. Most of all, that you're connected to him somehow."

Will shook his head. "I don't know what to think."

"And you know what? You're right." Aladrian announced.

Will's eyes widened.

Aladrian smiled.

"He had the perfect opportunity to kill me." Will protested. "I don't understand."

"Don't you? Deep down, you must have some idea."

"Do you know something?" He asked silently.

"Why do you think the Arcstone of Elysia came to you?" Aladrian asked, sapphire eyes blazing. "You must have considered the question."

"Maybe... maybe I was someone who wouldn't abuse it."

"No." Aladrian sounded disappointed. He walked to the window. "We both know that's not true. You didn't even believe it now. I could see it in your eyes when you spoke those words. Anyone would abuse that kind of power, given the opportunity. Well... almost anyone."

"What, then?" Will asked. "If you know, why don't you tell me?"

Aladrian's back was still turned to Will. He looked out at the radiant morning sun.

"I'm just an old man. An old man with his books, and a fondness for history." Aladrian said quietly, still facing the window. "I have a theory. But that's all it is."

"Well?"

"Not sure I have the heart to share. I could be wrong."

"You can't just leave me in suspense."

Aladrian paused.

"I think you'll find I can."

Will was perplexed.

"This is all that matters. You do share a connection." Aladrian turned. "He will try to use this connection against you when the time is right. You need to prepare yourself."

Will stared.

"How?" He asked. "I don't even know what you're talking about. You haven't said anything."

"I think you do know."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Will asked softly.

"Look inside." The old man said. "Who are you? Where do you come from?"

The door to Will's room shut with a quiet click.

#

#

#

# 

# Chapter 66 - The Fall

The ship lurched beneath Will's feet.

Will's bookshelf emptied itself onto the floor. So did his dresser.

Alarms blared throughout the ship. The cabin filled with red light.

He threw open the door to his room, bolting through the hall towards the bridge.

The ship lurched again. Gravity disappeared. Will flew up towards the ceiling of the passage, then came hurtling down to the floor. A stabbing pain shot through his spine.

He pulled himself to his feet. The ship swept violently to one side, throwing Will against a window. He couldn't help but look through. On the other side was a wall of blue. At first he thought it was the sky, but it was too dark. The day was too young for the sky to look like that.

The ship righted itself, and Will was thrown against the wall.

"Everybody hold onto something. Strap yourselves in, if you can." The captain's voice commanded—seeming to come from the ship itself. "This could get bumpy."

Gravity fell away a second time.

This time, Will kept from slamming against the floor as the Dawn caught itself. He learned to expect the shift in inertia, rising to his feet and sprinting down the hall. He found his way to the bridge.

"What the hell are you doing here, Darkwood?" The captain barked as soon as he passed through the door.

Alfie panted excitedly from the captain's lap. Lacking context, he looked thrilled.

What Will saw through the spherical viewscreen took his breath away.

The ship was a few thousand feet up—three, at most. Below was an ocean. At least, that was what it looked like. The sky above was so bright by comparison that it looked like a sheet of paper.

"William!" The captain's chair swiveled towards him.

Will turned.

"Our core housing is shot. We're going down. Strap yourself into something." He gestured to an empty chair at the far side of the bridge. "Now."

Again, the ship began to lose its grasp on the air.

Will had just enough time to run to the chair and cling to it before the ship began a final, hopeless fall towards the distant water, tilting forward dramatically. Now that he could see the water rushing up towards the ship, it was terrifying. Nothing was holding them in the air. The Dawn was falling like a rock.

Tiberian reached down to his feet and grabbed Alfie, who was sliding around the floor, trying not to fall towards the front of the room. The captain held him carefully in both arms, like a precious, breakable antique.

Will could feel adrenaline shooting through his veins. His stomach lurched.

"Engineering, you'd better get me something, or we're pancakes when we hit that water." The captain barked into his instrument panel.

"Something's happened to the housing." A voice called back. "They must have botched the maintenance at the port call. The spare isn't where it should be. I'll see what I can do though, Cap'. Don't you worry."

An automated female voice called out through the room. A countdown.

"Ten." The voice was gradual. Calm. Unnerving.

"Nine."

"Eight."

The bow of the ship was pointed at a 45-degree angle at the water. This allowed a perfect view of what was coming.

"Seven."

"Almost got it." The engineering officer's surprisingly even voice called out.

"Six."

"Five."

Will could begin to make out waves—tall waves. These were not gentle seas.

"Four."

"Dammit, Josh." The captain shouted. "Whatever you're going to do..."

"Three."

"Now!" The engineer answered.

The ship lurched forward and upward, forcing Will into the chair. The blood rushed out of his head.

"Two."

The water still roared upwards. Their approach had slowed, but not nearly enough to stop a collision.

"One."

By now, most of the inertia was in the forward direction. Will looked down to see waves racing past underneath the ship. Still, nothing stopped the steady drop into the sea.

"Brace!" The captain yelled.

The impact knocked everyone out of their seats who wasn't strapped in. Will felt the stern lift itself out of the water for a few moments before crashing down with another devastating blow. The ship rocked to and fro. It was over.

Seconds drew on in absolute silence. An immense wave, nearly thirty feet tall, bore straight down on the ship. The impact snapped Will's neck forward, then back.

Only the sound of Alfie's barking could be heard over the swaying. He seemed more excited than ever. He barked over and over, having broken free of the captain's hold.

The captain caught Cole's eye, at the helm.

"How's your nautical nav?"

Tiberian pointed ahead. The bottom half of the spherical viewscreen now showed an underwater environment.

"Oh, you know me, Captain." Cole replied with a ferociously facetious grin. "I love nautical."

"We don't sink, I'm buying you a drink tonight." Tiberian replied gently.

"We get through this, it'll be more than one."

Another wave crashed into the ship. The opposite side—the way down—was nearly as bad. As the bow dipped, tearing into the rough darkness of the waters below, Will thought for an unsettling moment he might be sick. To his relief, the moment passed.

Alfie hopped up and down on the floor, little legs barely containing his enthusiasm.

"This is a lake, with waters like this?" Cole asked, with a chuckle. "What a wonderful locale you've brought me."

"Yeah, yeah." The captain replied with a surprising joviality. "How much longer to Elvalon?"

"At this rate?" Cole chuckled, pulling up a hovering map in the air in front of him. "I'm just glad we've not split in two. Should be an hour or so of this chop."

"An hour?" Tiberian howled as the ship impacted another thirty-foot wave. "There's not even any weather."

"An hour's nothin', Cap'." Cole kicked back and unstrapped one of his seatbelts. "We can do that time standin' on our heads. The Dawn's built for this. Don't you worry." It sounded like he was trying to reassure himself as much as the captain.

An ominous cracking sound called out through the hull, continuing for several seconds into a gripping shudder.

"Uh huh." The captain groaned.

"Just settling in." Cole continued with optimism, not missing a beat. "She's rated for nautical. No frettin'."

"Rated for nautical." Tiberian grumbled under his breath. He reached for his panel. "We're in for an hour of this. I want no crew above-decks. Anybody falls overboard... have a good swim."

The captain shook his head, getting up from his chair but not letting go of it. The ship lurched terribly with the strike of another wave. He kept his footing, with some effort. The water was ferocious, but Cole was adept at hitting the waves head-on. There was no rolling, no pitching from side to side—only the relentless, head-on impact of one thirty-foot wave after another.

It was a strange sight, to see waves of that scale beneath skies of clear piercing blue. And the waters looked deceptively calm. There were no whitecaps. Everything looked fine—except for the walls of water hurtling their way every ten seconds or so.

"Well, come on." The captain murmured to Will, walking through the door at the far end of the bridge.

Another crushing wave. Will nearly fell. The captain helped steady him.

"Where are we going?" Will asked Tiberian.

"Forward lounge." He replied with a sigh. "Elvalon is the biggest city in Aru, 'cept for the capital. The Dawn is going to draw attention. We're not showing up without a plan. I'm not ending up in an Arunite... prison."

Will nodded quietly. There was something about the way Tiberian said the word "prison" that struck him—the hesitation before he said it.

It took nearly twice as long to reach the forward section of the ship as Will might have expected. Every now and then, the halls shuddered and creaked, changing angles unexpectedly. Will began to appreciate the intricately carved handrails alongside the passageways.

"So the ship can become a... well, a ship?" Will asked, feeling a bit daft.

"Of course." The captain replied. "That's the beauty of Highcraft airship design. The pieces are there. Just the matter of the water landing."

"You call that a landing?" Will smiled.

"Do me a favor." The captain said subtly, pulling Will aside as they drew near to the forward lounge. "Don't tell Anaia why we're in the water."

Will's smile grew. "It's because you gave away our spare core, isn't it?"

"Loaned." Tiberian corrected. "And if the Nuthien ground crew had done a proper job at maintenance, this would never have been a problem."

"Mmmhmm."

Will paused as the two reached the entryway to the lounge area.

Strangely, despite the ferocity of the impact, everything looked intact—more or less. Even the bar was normal. Nothing had come apart or fallen to the ground. The bottles were still where they should be, inside a device for locking them in place. The bartenders and waiters were still working. The door to the kitchen was open, per usual. Plates of food and drink were being rushed to and fro—albeit less ambitiously than before.

"So you won't tell her?" The captain asked for the second time.

"Not sure I'll have to." Will nodded ahead.

Anaia stood there, hands folded across her chest, glaring at the captain.

The look on her face left no room for doubt that she knew what had happened. Spread about two of the tables in the back of the room were Julian, Grace, Evelyn, and Aria on one end—and Khel on the other, feet kicked back up across the table.

The great window at the ship's bow was now half-submerged. It gave the room a strange bifurcated feel. The tables at the far end, where Will's companions sat, were in almost complete darkness, shaded by the deep-blue water on the other side of the great window. The shade undulated with each passing wave, constantly changing shape. The closer part of the room to Will and the captain, where Anaia stood, was much brighter—illuminated by the piercing light of the desert sun.

"Don't say it." Tiberian cut her off.

"An airship captain you are not." She snapped. "Not anymore."

He sighed. "Could've been worse, I suppose."

"You do, do you?" Anaia asked, glint in her eye.

She turned, walking with the two of them towards the table where the others already sat. Another wave hit the ship, throwing the room into darkness and then light. Will and the captain nearly lost their footing as they reached the table with the others.

"Don't you even want to know what happened?" The captain grumbled.

"We fell out of the sky." She snapped. "That cover it?"

"Yeah, well... you're not far off." The captain admitted glumly. "The core housing's shot. We'll need Elysian facilities to fix it. Or the spare—which... you know where that is. Yes, thank you for that look. I'd appreciate it if we could skip the 'I told you so's."

Another wave rocked, the ship, bringing the room into the now-familiar cycle of darkness and then light.

"Yesterday we were the pride of the navy. Gliding through the air at five thousand feet. Undetected. All but invisible. Wouldn't have even had to make a stop in Aru. Might have overflown their capital."

"Hah!" Khel interjected.

"Now?" Anaia continued. "Now, we have an ocean liner with pirate flags. Like that's not going to raise eyebrows. Can this ship even navigate the water route to Elaneth? I don't know. Do you?"

Khel raised his arm lazily. "I have something to add, if you two might give us a moment of peace."

He picked up a drink from the table, cradling it to avoid spilling as the next wave crested. He took a long swig of something that looked like rum.

"What are you doing?" Will asked with a hint of a smile. "It's not even noon."

"I've been here before. Trust me, it's warranted." He sat up abruptly, throwing the empty glass down on the table.

"Okay, Khel." Anaia said softly. "What do you suggest?"

Will, Tiberian, and Anaia took seats around Khel. Anaia was still glaring at Tiberian, but her gaze shifted to Khel once he began speaking.

"The people of this city don't care about you. They learn not to ask questions at a young age. Keeps them alive."

"Then... we don't have anything to worry about?" Julian asked, eyes wide.

Khel chuckled violently.

The ship lurched forward with a fury, this time listing to the starboard side.

Khel gazed out the window dispassionately. A wave crested. Dark water gave way to blazing bright sky.

"Doesn't matter anyway." He grumbled. "You think the cruise liner is going to survive another hour of this beating? There's a reason nobody sails through the middle of the Elvalon Deep."

Another creaking and cracking sound called out through the hull, followed by an off-putting shuddering.

"What's the matter, Khel?" Aria pitched in. "Afraid of a few waves?"

"You have everything to worry about." Khel yawned. "Just not from where you think."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Anaia asked.

"Am I the only one who's a little put off by his use of the word you?" Julian pitched in, raising his hand. "Just saying... you'd think it'd be we by now."

"Look, do you want my help, or not?" Khel's irritation looked real enough. "There's a waterway to the capital by way of Elvalon, but you're not going to like it."

"Oh?" Will asked.

"It's..." He looked over to Will, lowering his voice for effect. "Well, pirates call it Twisting Death. It makes the Deep, here, look like child's play."

"Twisting Death..." Julian scoffed. "You're making that up."

"Your ship is struggling. You don't have to admit it. I've done my share of navigation. The luxury liner wasn't designed for Arunite waterways. It was designed to glide through soft Valisian air in quiet comfort..."

"Well, we can't leave the Dawn for caravans now." Will recalled Khel's idea from days ago. "Someone would find it."

"That was my idea. But aren't you the great leader on this boat?" Khel snapped. "Aren't you supposed to have the answers?"

"We'll find a way." Will said softly. "We have a good guide, after all." He smiled at Khel.

"I was born and raised in Elvalon." Khel admitted in a softer tone. "Still, it's nice to know that I've fallen to the rank of guide."

"Better than assassin." Will responded.

"Better is in the eye of the beholder." Khel mumbled.

"Only you would complain about not getting to be an assassin anymore." Anaia smiled.

"What's in a name?" Khel asked, aghast. "I merely... kept you on your toes. That's all."

"Uh huh." Anaia mumbled.

"Are you two finished?" Julian asked, staring at the two of them as the ship rocked violently again. "We don't have a plan, and you've hardly been able to get him to say a useful word since you've arrived." He picked up Khel's empty glass and opened up his pocketwatch. "Rum—straight—at quarter to noon? You're no day drinker. What is it you're so worried about seeing here?"

Khel telekinetically snatched the glass back, catching it flawlessly. He glared at Julian.

"How do we get the ship down this river to Elaneth? This Twisting Death?" Will asked.

"Well, William..." Khel spat Will's name as though he resented hearing it come from his own voice. "First, you'll need a map. For each real path—and there are several—there are dozens of tributaries, each leading straight to death by heat stroke. I might help you, serve as your... guide."

He smiled gently.

"But?" Will groaned.

"But it would have to be detailed. I'm not about to fly blind like your crazed pilot. Second, you'll need a reinforced hull. That means at least two layers of interconnected metal on the keel. There are bladed rocks, and the water is more... stormy white, than it is blue."

"Oh, is that all?" Anaia groaned.

"Rum?" Khel offered, pulling a half-empty fifth out from under the table. It looked old. Expensive.

"Where did you get that?" Tiberian protested. "Is that from my private store?"

He looked to the bartender, who shrugged.

Anaia chuckled.

"We're going to die." Aria said.

"Not this again." Grace shook her head. "Optimism, dear. It won't kill you."

"Not sure she has all the reason in the world to be optimistic." Julian pitched in.

"She has every reason to be optimistic." Grace contradicted him. "She's managed not to die, unlike everyone she grew up with."

"How pleasant." Julian murmured.

Despite her seated position, Aria managed a mock-curtsy and a broad grin.

"You are an odd bunch." Evelyn said quizzically.

"Wait, is it just me, or..." Will began, looking out the window. Sure enough, the waves had begun to even out. The ship still lurched every few seconds, but it was nowhere near the wild ride it had been a few moments ago.

"Looks like I was wrong. We're through the worst of it."

Khel looked briefly over his shoulder and then returned to his bottle of rum. He went straight to the bottle now.

"Looks like your Valisian shipbuilders aren't quite as bad as the Legion jokes make them out to be."

"Look." Aria pointed out the window. "There."

As the ship rose to the top of the next wave, Will caught sight of something on the distant shore—something other than more waves and desert sunlight. Towering structures shot out of the pale-gold sands some ten miles away. Some combination of sandstone and greenery pierced the desert sky, looming high over the landscape.

The wave crested, and the Dawn fell into its wake. The shadow of the next wave overcame them, and the distant city disappeared from view.

#

#

#

# 

# Chapter 67 - Elvalon

"It's something, isn't it?"

The captain's voice called over the deck, staring off the bow with a wide smile.

"The desert wind. The clean air. The freshwater off the hull. This is what I signed up for."

Will had just opened the door from belowdecks. The piercing sunlight of an early afternoon burst into the foredecks enclave. All of his companions had followed him to the deck—some more reluctantly than others.

Julian rushed forward into the sunlight, stopping at the far side of the ship, bending over and retching violently. He climbed back to his feet, wiping his mouth with his formerly white sleeve.

"It's something, he says." He grumbled, leaning over. "Amazing."

"What's with him?" Tiberian asked.

"What's with him?" Julian mocked. "Hah! After we endure an hour of that. Rocking back and forth, to and fro, side to side, with no end in sight. What did you expect? Figured you'd rather have me puking off the side of your ship than inside it."

A moment of peace fell. The waves had all but abated.

"Well." The captain clapped Julian on the back. "You're right about that, lad. And I thank you." He walked him over to the bow. "Now... if you will. I think you might find it worth a bit of discomfort."

"A bit of..." Julian started grumbling. He stopped mid-sentence.

The city of Elvalon hovered just ahead. A row of immense, rocky desert mountains framed an oasis in the desert.

It was, in a word, paradise.

Whoever had designed this place had a keen eye for aesthetics. Great uniform pillars rose out of the sand by the seabound lake, connected by curved, interlocking stonework. The city was underneath, behind, and above. It all shared the same organic architectural style—rising naturally from the desert floor as if it belonged there, as if it had always been. Thousands of curved hollow openings emerged from the sandstone structure, lit by distant flecks of flame.

Enveloping and surrounding it all was a particular dialect of desert plant life. It sprouted everywhere—palms, acacias, firs, cacti, and junipers. They spread on a network of platforms throughout the city, giving the whole thing the appearance of a vast three-dimensional garden.

Vines connected anything and everything. These hung from every building, reaching near but not quite to the top—giving everything the appearance of great age.

Everything looked perfectly natural—as though it had all simply appeared here one day.

To either side, the desert was barren. There was no sign of any life in any direction, but for the city. It was as stark in the hot dry air as the lake they sailed.

The sapphire lake water gave the whole scene an otherworldly sense of discrepancy. Like the city, it felt as though this endless lake had no business being here in the middle of the desert, yet for some untold reason defied its surroundings.

"Home, sweet home." Khel's voice dripped with irony. He took a cool and collected step over to the side of the ship and leaned back against it.

"You know..." Will started, looking over at Khel. "I always imagined you coming from an uglier place."

Khel shot Will a particularly broad smile, then directed his gaze towards the city again.

"Even the sickest can be made to look good, on the outside."

Will had to step forward to hear him.

"We're not even there yet." Khel continued. "That's the thing with you people. You're all about style. Not substance. Sure, it looks great. It's made to look great. Just wait until we get there." Khel's voice took on a darker tone.

Without warning, the ship passed into shadow. The light of the sun was gone. Something had passed overhead, blocking it from view.

Will looked up. Three small airships circled above, descending to a height of a few hundred feet. Each was no more than fifty feet long. Bags of gas roughly double that size protruded from their hulls, giving them a bizarre, almost-comical appearance—at least compared to the suave, curving elegance of the Dawn.

Even in its privateer garb and hamstrung, stuck in the water like any other ship, the Dawn had a refinement that put its pursuers to shame. Still, Will had no doubt that any of the three ships could do damage. Each of them was bristling with weapons.

"Wonderful." Khel groaned. "Exactly what I was hoping to avoid." He looked over at Will. "Do us all a favor and button up that shirt. Will you? What are you doing with it unbuttoned like that, anyway? Showing that thing off? You're going to get us killed. And let me do the talking?"

He shook his head.

"Amazing we've survived this long."

Unnaturally enhanced voices called down from the ships. They were in Arunite, but the tone was distinct. These were orders, not requests.

"We're to maintain course to the Central Docks." Khel grumbled. "No deviations, no sudden movements."

"Forget that." Grace suggested quietly, defiance in her tone. "Well? You're some of the most powerful magi on the continent. I'm not going to prison."

"Hah!" Khel laughed darkly.

"What?" She asked.

"There are no prisons here."

The pursuers were flying lower as they circled, continuing to bark orders. The lowest was no higher than fifty feet now.

"Besides, do you know why they're after us?" Khel continued. "I don't. To them, we're a pirate ship. A large and well-outfitted privateer bearing the mark of Arkano of Tal'vén—nothing more, nothing less."

"This is probably just a customs inspection." Tiberian added in the same hushed tone.

"Exactly." Khel replied.

"How's your Arunite?" Anaia asked Tiberian.

He replied proudly in the foreign tongue, sounding conversational—even comfortable. "You?"

She did the same, a faint smile falling across her face.

"I don't give you two enough credit." Khel replied, grinning broadly. "Where the hell did you learn that? You have native accents. You could be from this city, for what any of them might know."

Aria walked up to Khel and whispered a few Arunite phrases in his face, as if it were her first language.

Khel backpedaled silently, saying nothing in return. Instead, he walked over to the panel on the mast and pushed the button he had seen the captain use dozens of times.

"Listen up, sops. You're about to be boarded." Khel announced to the crew in a rough drawl. "You don't speak Arunite, you best start pretending you're hard of hearing." He released the button with a devious grin.

Khel was on the ground before he knew what hit him. The captain had landed a brutal right hook squarely in his jaw.

Khel began cursing violently in Arunite. He climbed to his feet in a second, pointing his finger at the captain as if to threaten him. Tiberian turned away, gradually raising his voice in the same foreign tongue to reprimand him.

It was off-putting just how loud the captain's voice could become—even when he was facing the other direction. It was like a force of nature. It shook the deck. Will couldn't understand what he was saying, but it was hard not to get the gist of it.

Even Khel was silent in another second or two. He took a few steps back.

The captain approached the mast, holding down the same button.

"This is Tiberian. Comms silence. Customs inbound. You know the drill."

#

# 

# Chapter 68 - The Docks

The airships descended in unison.

No one on the deck said anything as dozens of heavily armed marines pulled themselves aboard and aimed crossbows at their heads.

Tiberian glowered, but he had the sense to raise his hands. The others followed suit.

A tall, dark woman made her way onto the ship.

She was in charge. There was something about the way the soldiers reacted to her presence—about the way they stood a little taller once she was onboard. She reminded Will a bit of Anaia.

Her eyes were the same color as the sky above, and her skin was darker than the wood of the deck. Her nose was long, her features gaunt and angular. She was older than Will, but still relatively young—probably in her early thirties. She surveyed the ship with a quiet, impressed nod, walking from one side of the deck to the other.

"Tell me." She said in Elysian. "What is an Elysian I-1 Class Airship doing in Elvalon?"

She paced past her soldiers to Will, looking him straight in the eye.

"Oh, you didn't think I spoke your language, did you?"

She smiled broadly.

Will made a conscious effort not to react to the words. Any reaction might give them away. Will could feel his heart beating. His emotions had always shown on his face, plain as day.

She moved on with a silent smirk. The captain was next. She stared into his eyes with a ruthless intensity.

"The largest and most advanced piece of hardware in our adversary's arsenal shows up here, in the water, with that flag on it. What? Am I to believe that old fool Arkano won it in a poker game and couldn't keep it in the air?"

The smile only grew as she stared at Tiberian—as if trying to see if he understood a word she was saying. She spoke the language perfectly, without even the slightest hint of an accent.

"You must think so little of us." Her voice was little more than whisper.

Tiberian spouted a few staccato phrases in Arunite.

She shook her head ever-so-gradually.

"The accent..." She said softly. "It's very good. You've practiced. You almost have it down. Almost."

#

# 

# Chapter 69 - The Tombs

The door shut behind with a loud crash, leaving a cold darkness behind.

There were no windows in this dungeon. It was too far underground for that.

The way in had taken them by the city's grand gates, adjacent to the Central Docks. The road in had been a wide one, well-kept—polished, reflective, well-traveled. Everything had seemed bright and grand. But Elvalon's facade had fallen away swiftly.

The guards had promptly pulled Will, Khel, and Tiberian away from their companions and through a deserted alleyway, into an apparently abandoned building.

Things got progressively less cheerful from there. A network of narrow passageways had brought them into the depths. Each tunnel connected to dozens more in a network of claustrophobic catacombs underneath the city. The walls closed in.

One ominous passage led to another, deeper into the world. Sporadic lanterns cast a filthy yellow glow on the stale stone and musty air. Darkness separated one path from another.

Terrifying howls punctuated their journey into the dark. Uncountable voices called out in desperation, echoing from the walls. From their tone, none believed help would be forthcoming. Some were tepid, others shrill—full of anguish, despair, and loathing for the world.

When the guards shut the stone door behind the three of them, it became unbearably claustrophobic. There was barely enough room to sit in this little room, and not enough to stand. It smelled of sweat and human waste.

The air was stale and musty. Will struggled to bring enough oxygen into his lungs. In quarters this close, he could feel the heat of the others' breath. And the lantern in here let out so little light that only vague outlines were visible.

"This is pleasant." Will grumbled. "Just a customs inspection. You are something."

"What?" Tiberian replied testily. "How was I supposed to know we would run into the female version of Khel, here?"

Khel snorted.

"But you act like you know everything. Like you did know what we were getting ourselves into."

"I'm a captain. That's how it works."

Will shook his head. "Well, I think the guards are gone by now. It's time to get us out of here."

"Sit down." Khel snapped.

"What?" Will asked. "You have a better idea?"

"Do you?" Khel replied.

"Yeah." Will said. "Anything that doesn't involve sitting in a fifteen-square-foot cell with you."

"Your strategic gifts will have the Avatar begging for peace."

"Whatever." Will snapped. "A shower wouldn't kill you."

"You were getting up to leave. And you have the means. So let's play this out logically then." Khel continued berating Will. "Do you know where the others are?"

Will was silent.

"No." Khel continued. "Do you have the means to pilot the ship out of here by yourself? No, you don't."

"Hold on a minute." Will asked. "I'm still stuck on the part where we're in a hole in the ground. If they know we're Elysians, shouldn't they be asking us questions? Trying to confirm that?"

"Maybe they are." Khel responded.

"But this is the captain. If they were going to start somewhere..." Will replied.

"He's such a dullard, isn't he?" Khel asked Tiberian, referring to Will. "You don't start with a ship captain." Khel glowered with glee, eyes growing larger as he relished the moment. "You work your way up, maim the peons first, starve them a bit. Then you work your way up the ladder. That's how you run a proper interrogation."

"Not even going to ask." Will groaned.

"Hold on just a minute." The captain began defensively. "You're making a lot of assumptions. Some overzealous inspector probably just wants a look at the Dawn."

Silence. It was as though neither Will nor Khel knew how to respond to this.

"Look around you." Will said finally. "This cell is smaller than my guest bathroom. This is more than an inspection."

"The commander said she picked up some flaw in your accent. I didn't notice anything." Khel said quietly.

"That's because there isn't anything." Tiberian admitted. "That's what I'm trying to tell you."

"What?" Will asked blankly.

"Elysian isn't my first language." The captain chose his words carefully. "Khel isn't the only one who's from around here."

Another round of silence.

"What?" Will asked again. "From around here, as in..."

"Yep." The captain replied simply.

"Does the navy know about this?" Will asked.

"You think they'd let him in if they did?" Khel asked with a chuckle. "Who's your handler?"

"My what?" The captain responded. "I'm not a spy. I'm an immigrant."

"Mmmhmm." Khel responded with a sly nod.

Tiberian ignored him. "But you're right. The Navy doesn't know. Nobody knows. Tiberian isn't my birth name. It's an invention. As far as anyone is concerned, I'm from a nowhere village. Just like you, Will."

"Haven isn't a..." Will began.

"Point is, I don't have an accent when I speak Arunite." Tiberian said abruptly. "I can, if I want to. But I didn't on the deck."

"Then what are they doing?" Will asked. "And who was that woman?"

"I don't know." Tiberian replied softly. "But there are very few who would openly call Arkano Jelnatka an 'old fool.' Unfortunate incidents tend to follow. Our captor is fearless or ignorant."

"There's a difference?" Khel asked softly.

"How original." Tiberian quipped.

"So are we going to just sit here and wait?" Will hoped someone's suggestion would include a no.

"Apparently not." Khel said in a bored drawl, staring at the door.

Will detected vague footsteps echoing down the passage outside.

The door sprang open without warning. The woman who had boarded the Dawn stood there, a vague smile on her face.

"Well? Come on then." She said in Elysian, looking straight to Will this time. "Let's get you on your way." Her voice was gentle—nothing like before.

Will stared blankly for a few seconds.

"What?" He finally managed.

"Was I unclear?" She replied, the smile growing wider now. "You're in a tomb."

"What?" Will repeated.

"We could continue the conversation in the tomb, if you would like." She responded. "I have better accommodations in mind, but if this works for you, it works for me."

Will jumped to his feet, ramming his head into the ceiling with a painful cry.

"Yes, do mind your head in there." She muttered thoughtlessly, leading the group up the twisting path.

Four passageways led up, six down. Hundreds of desperate screams echoed through the depths. As before, they seemed to come from all around.

"Watch your step. Only one of these paths leads back to where we're going." The woman at the front of the group said quietly. "You get lost in here, you'll never find your way back. Escape from the Shadows is impossible."

"What kind of city has a place like this underneath?" Will groused.

"One with little crime." Khel responded dryly.

"How nice for you." Will rubbed his head.

"One without freedom." Their captor commented quietly from the front. "A harmonious one, without the potential for change. Welcome to Aru."

Will looked back at Khel and Tiberian. Both shrugged.

The guards did not react.

"Not what you expected to hear?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Keep up. Your friends and crew are waiting for you. It's not far."

She was right about one thing. No prisoner would make their way out of this place—at least not without succumbing to thirst or asphyxiation first.

The tunnels went on for miles. It was nearly an hour of sweeping, curving, claustrophobic misery. The whole time, screams of sorrow followed them. There must have been thousands of condemned down here.

They came to a single, worn wooden doorway. With one turn of an ancient key, the latch came undone. She gave it a strong push, and it creaked open.

#

# 

# Chapter 70 - Shadowlight

An archaic spiral stairway greeted them on the other side.

Hand-carved, of ancient dark mahogany, it continued up in endless repetition. There were no windows to the outside world. A round wall of ancient sandstone encapsulated them. Only dusky lanterns gave any hint as to what was going on all around.

The stairs went on endlessly. Every revolution looked the same as the one before. Tiberian panted clamorously from the back of the group. Sweat poured off of him. Each of his steps went more slowly and took more effort than the last.

Without warning, a trapdoor opened above, bathing the stairway in silvery sun. They stepped out into a palace of light.

The woman leading them slammed the trapdoor, latching it and dragging a bookshelf over it—concealing the opening from view.

They found themselves in the far corner of a vast living space, curved and sumptuous. Its far edges were floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors. Outside were fabric alcoves, providing shade to a number of outdoor decks. This place was hundreds of feet in the sky. Will could see over countless rooftops, all covered in trees and vines. He could make out dozens of streets in the distance, filled with locals going about their business, congregating around outdoor market stalls. The Elvalon Deep stretched across the horizon, framed by desert mountains.

Despite the scorching heat of the desert outside, the inside was quite cool. Copious vines and foreign-looking flora grew off of stone walls and straight from the polished sandstone floor. Despite exotic and luxurious furnishings, the whole space felt a bit like an indoor garden.

Looking about this vast room—between vaulted ceilings, reflective surfaces, and constant greenery—Will began to recognize familiar faces. Everyone who had been separated from them was here, together with the entire crew of the Dawn.

"Nice of you to join us." Anaia walked over with a broad smile.

"Did you..." Will started.

"Come straight here?" She replied. "Yes. Everyone did—except for you. I take it you've met our host, Elara?"

She gestured to the woman who had led them here.

"Our host?" Will asked with a stare. "When did she become our host? Are you telling me you didn't have to sit in a tiny prison cell for three hours?" Will stared. "Amazing. Of course you didn't."

"What cell?" Anaia asked, confused.

"Not cell." Elara corrected. "Tomb. Those aren't prisons. Aru doesn't have prisons."

"Excuse me?" Will stared. "The last three hours say otherwise."

"It was only a cell to you because I let you out." Elara responded dryly. "Those are tombs."

"What's the difference between a 'cell' and a 'tomb?' " Will asked. "Sounds a little scarier, sure. But..."

"They're single-use." Khel mumbled.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're not thinking literally enough." Khel responded dryly.

"You go down there." Elara explained. "You don't come out. Without fresh air or water, the human body lasts a few days. The screams stop as quickly as they start. The magi extend the tunnels and make more as needed."

"Oh, that's just..." Will began.

"You needed to see what you were dealing with." Elara said softly, looking down.

"It's like I said." Khel interrupted. "Very little crime. The nights are safe here."

"Very little freedom, either." Elara corrected. "They say what crime is, and people will go to any lengths to avoid it."

"Who's they?" Will asked.

"The houses." Elara said simply. "Alvari, Vensi, and Rin. These days, they are Unity. At least outside the capital."

"What do you mean, they are Unity?" Will pressed.

"I told you." Khel groaned. "The Avatar never leaves Elaneth. Someone has to mind the rest of the country."

"They're in the streets, in the temples, in our homes." Elara said softly. "The magi join for training. In exchange, they keep the peace. Everyone knows a mage when they see one. Usually, it's one of the last things they see."

Will shot Khel a glare. His reluctance to come back here was coming into focus.

"Elara, here, is high in the Vensi ranks." Anaia announced.

"Hence, the airships." Elara boasted. "The flat." She gestured all around to the lavish space.

"How nice for you." Will snapped, rubbing the dirt off of his neck. He still smelled like that little hole.

"She does what she can for the cause." Anaia said softly.

"Yes, I could tell from the howls down there." Sarcasm dripped from Will's voice. "She's doing a great job."

He walked toward the nearby window, taking in a striking view of the Elvalon Deep—of the sails leaving the docks from across the shaded alcove just outside. They must have been on the fortieth floor. This view, with what he had just seen... it was an unbearable contrast.

"This is a city of fifteen million, William." She said with a soft chagrin. "Maybe twenty. You don't see the ones we get out. Not here. You might, in Elysia one day."

"We?" Will asked through a furrowed brow.

"Shadowlight." Elara said softly, sounding a bit hurt. "The resistance. Not everyone goes along with what's happening here."

"Let me ask you something." Will said. "How does anyone go along with this? Do people want this?"

Elara laughed quietly to herself.

"What an awful question." She mumbled to herself. "When the alternative is dying alone, people will say or do... anything. Does that make them liars?"

Will kept quiet.

"Can a person believe, under the knife?" She asked. "What about when their parents' parents—for a hundred generations back—have done the same?" Her eyes widened.

"Why have you brought us here?" Khel yawned.

Elara's eyes moved on to him. She assessed him, as she would a potential threat.

"I wasn't sure what to make of you." She said finally. "I'm still not."

"We didn't lock you in a tomb." He grumbled under his breath.

"You look like a picture I saw in training—when I took my first trip to Elaneth."

"Is that so?" Khel asked slyly.

"It is." She replied. "But I must ask myself why the Sovereign and his companions would place themselves in the confidence of Khel, Right Hand of the Avatar. Do they trust him? Has Valis fallen so far? I don't believe that."

Khel's face grew more intense. Anaia chuckled, shrugging with a look towards Will.

"Still..." Elara continued. "If William, here, trusts you—I must do so."

"Will you help us?" Will asked.

"Help you with what?" She asked. "What are you doing here?"

"We're going to the capital." Will said simply. "Could you fix our ship's core?"

She laughed quietly.

A knock sounded from across the room.

Will looked to the opposite side, some hundred feet across the great living space. Double doors twenty feet tall marked the entrance to Elara's manor in the sky.

She quickly gestured for her dozens of guests to move around the corner and out of sight. Once everyone was hidden, she walked quickly across the enormous space to the doors—footfalls echoing across the curved outer walls and high ceilings.

She gently pushed open the vast mahogany doors.

Two dozen figures in great, black cloaks burst through the doorway.

#

#

#

#

# 

# Chapter 71 - Wylan

Elara flew through the air across the room, rolling violently and coming to an abrupt stop just across from her guests, around the corner.

Her eyes were open when she came to a stop. She was still conscious. Will saw recognition there. And something else too. Terror.

Stifled cries called out from all around. An elaborate, triangular mark had been burned into Elara's forehead. Blood ran into her eyes from the wound, which was black and orange.

"The mark." Khel murmured quietly. "It means the tombs. She can never show her face in public again."

Footsteps echoed through the halls. The hooded figures approached.

They came to an abrupt halt. The one in front took off his cloak.

The man underneath was young. He could have been in his late teens or early twenties. Elaborate tattoos made their way across his bald head and neck—surrounding slit-like cat-eyes. He scanned the room briefly, then opened his mouth.

"I will make this simple." He said in Elysian, his voice thin and nasal. "Come out, one at a time, with your hands above you. Everyone in this room is already dead."

Will and Anaia glanced at Khel. He nodded.

"That's not a great incentive to get them to come out." Khel barked back slowly, voice echoing across the polished sandstone. "Is it?"

No response was forthcoming. Not at first.

Khel looked eager for the challenge. He was at the corner nearest, peering out—something like a smile appearing all over his face.

"That's Wylan Xie." He said reverently to Will, keeping his voice low. "Head mage of Vensi. Everyone's scared of that guy. He's supposed to be a prodigy. Psychopath too."

Excitement showed in Khel's eyes.

Will shot him a strange look. But it was too late.

Khel had already started out into the center of the room, straight towards the young man.

Will telekinetically pulled Elara around the corner, out of harm's way. She was starting to sit up, dazed. It was as though she wasn't sure where she was, or what was going on around her. Medics from the Dawn pulled her away, tending to the wound. Blood was pouring from it now, and it was all they could do to stop the bleeding.

Everyone silently packed into the far corner, by where the trapdoor had been. No one dared open it. It would cause too much noise, and they wouldn't get far anyway. No. For now, dozens of sailors hid in the deepest recesses of Elara's flat, silently hoping and praying against discovery.

Every breath echoed in the recesses of the polished sandstone. Every movement amplified the quiet tension in the air. Even the medics tending to Elara's head wound moved in gradual, calculated advances.

"I thought I recognized that voice." Wylan sighed deeply.

"Why hello there, Wylan." Khel said, peering over the young man with a broad smile. "What can I do for you on this fine day?"

Khel was a foot taller than Wylan. But the young man was unfazed.

"Khel." Wylan's tired-sounding voice called out in Elysian with a thick accent, loudly enough to echo throughout the halls. "What might you be doing here?"

"You are out of your depth, child." Khel replied sharply.

"I wonder..." Wylan started, feigning deep thought. "Today's Shadowlight raid had been planned for weeks. Everything went perfectly."

"Perfectly?" Khel cut Wylan off, his booming voice filling every recess of the room. "Nice to see you too, I suppose."

"Their ringleader was exactly where she was supposed to be—a member of our own house. And who do we find here? Khel, the Abandoned."

"He has a nickname for me... how nice." Khel grinned.

"Who are you calling to?"

Wylan eyed the corner where the entire complement of the Dawn remained concealed.

He nodded curtly to several of the magi. Three of them stepped forward, starting off for the wall behind Khel.

Will felt his heart pumping in his chest. He looked to Anaia, Aladrian, even Aria. They all knew what was about to happen, should Khel fail. Will caught sailors meditating, praying, chanting in hushed whispers—preparing for the end. Others grabbed their weapons, despite the knowledge they would be of little use against the Arcane. Hushed whispers began to call out amongst the group.

As the magi approached Khel, his feigned grin disappeared. Replacing it was an intensely hateful stare. Will had never seen so much rage in anyone's eyes. Khel's hands rose.

The magi stopped immediately. It wasn't clear if Khel had stopped them, or if fear had done it for him. But even Wylan took a step back.

"Now..." Khel spoke slowly and deliberately.

"If you don't wish to impair our designs—and I think you know what that means—I would suggest returning your attentions to local concerns. Where they belong."

His voice was slow and precise. He enunciated every word with a calculated hate.

Wylan seethed. He toyed with the idea of responding. Will could see it on his face. He shook subtly, hands balling into fists. The younger man stood as tall as he could, glaring back at Khel with scorn. Anywhere else, it might have been frightening. But after Khel's blaze of fury, it came across as second-rate imitation. His lieutenants backtracked without waiting for an order.

Khel waved his arms flippantly.

"Be gone!"

There was no response.

It was not twenty seconds before the great doors opposite shut with finality. Will and his companions found themselves alone in the great hall.

#

# 

# Chapter 72 - The Cartographer

"Must you maintain that pained expression?" Khel asked grimly.

"Pained expression?" Will asked. "This is my face."

"No." Khel replied obstinately. "You are sulking."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"No." Aria said softly.

"No, what?"

"I don't believe it." She continued. "I just can't."

"What?" Will asked.

"The Sovereign could not have left her legacy to someone with so little self-awareness." Aria quipped. "Not on purpose."

Will smiled quietly at Aria. "You two sound more alike every day."

The lift on the other side of the mahogany doors had brought everyone to the city's main drag. According to Elara, the Dawn was still a secret. With her help, the crew had set out for the relative safety of the ship.

Will, Anaia, Khel, Aria, and Aladrian had now set out in search of a map.

"So tell me, Khel." Will said quietly. "What designs do you have for us?"

"What?" Khel asked dismissively.

"What you said back there." Will replied. " 'Our designs.' Who's our?"

"Just be glad I thought of something." Khel snapped. "Something that saved you. Not that I'm hearing any thanks."

"Again with the you instead of us..." Will noted silently.

Khel sighed.

Will dropped the subject as they joined the main thoroughfare.

The street was a hundred feet wide, absolutely full of people.

Stalls sold everything. Freshly grilled meats. Sculptures and pottery. Paintings and brushwork, some moving of their own accord.

Elvalon was well-kept. Polished sandstone and greenery extended as far as the eye could see. Trees sprouted up everywhere, manicured meticulously. These were not limited to desert varieties. They included palms, pines, maples—even strange purple and pink varieties.

Vast sandstone monoliths towered over the street to each side, complete with glass windows, fabric alcoves, and vine overgrowth. Small, stepped waterfalls fed narrow canals to each side of the street, in turn feeding the elaborate Arcane fountains of street vendors to each side. The desert sun scorched the street, but there was also a cool wind, enhanced by the water of the falls.

The procession of business here had a methodical element—an order to the chaos.

"I think..." Will continued. "I think I imagined it would be more of a contrast." He said finally. "From Valis, I mean."

"It is a contrast." Anaia said.

"Yes. It's not falling apart." Khel stated.

Anaia shot him a dirty look.

"I know. I know." Khel corrected himself. "There's the living entombment that keeps everyone in line. But you have to admire the energy of the place. The discipline."

Will looked out at the people moving to and fro in the street—milling about from stall to stall. They did not look afraid, or bothered in the slightest sense.

"What if they want this?" Will asked, thinking out loud. "It's different, but are we in a position to condemn it?"

Khel shot him a look that made him want to take the words back.

"Look at the people on this street." Will gestured to the crowds milling about. No one showed the slightest hint anyone was wrong. "They look... happy. Happier than the Elysians we saw."

"They do. Don't they?" Khel responded shortly. "Looking unhappy can be enough."

"Enough?" Will asked.

"What do you think I'm referring to?" Khel asked, as though the question were nonsense. "Any act of disloyalty can bring the tombs. There are no courts here."

"That looks like genuine happiness, Khel." Aria pointed out.

"Everyone on this street knows an entombed." Khel responded. "And they all know that if they're accused, there's no hope of defending themselves. The accusers have a power they don't understand."

Silence fell as the group navigated the bustling crowd, with Khel leading to group to somewhere only he knew.

"So this is the answer." Khel continued. "Act happy. Be happy. That's life here. That's Unity. Can you imagine anything more mundane? This is what's coming to Valis."

"How do so many people still end up down there?" Aria asked.

"The magi need something to do." Khel responded simply.

"That's it?" Will asked.

Khel looked at Will, then down to the ground. He shook his head.

Aladrian spoke up.

"You think it's in human nature to act fairly when there are no laws, no restraints, unlimited authority? Why do you think our government operates the way it does? With checks on any one person's position?"

"Those don't apply to your Sovereign, I take it." Khel interjected.

"She never took political power." Aladrian responded brusquely. " 'Sovereign' is a misnomer. The people insisted on the title. She chose a quiet life. Took her own when the years began leaving their mark."

"Yeah." Khel quipped. "Real hero, that one."

"Depends how you define courage." Aladrian replied.

Will was so engrossed that he didn't notice when they came to an ancient wooden door. Unmarked and inconspicuous, it was so old that its sides had begun to rot out.

They were in an old, deserted alleyway. The sun, too, seemed less present here than it had on the main road. Overlapping fabric of nearly every color connected the buildings above, almost blocking out the sun.

"We're here." Khel announced quietly.

"Where? Dare I ask?" Anaia asked. "What is this place?"

There was nothing here. The alley was completely empty, or so it seemed.

"I don't know." Khel replied. "I know what it was... oh, 122 years ago.

"Okay. Great." Will grumbled. "What was it then?"

Khel banged on the door, ignoring Will.

Silence filled the alleyway as the knocks echoed down to each side. Will could hear the breeze flapping to and fro in the cloth overhangs.

"What are we doing here?" Anaia looked at Khel sternly.

"You have no patience." Khel snapped.

"A hundred and twenty years isn't patience." She replied with snark. "It's dust. Look at the state of this door. We'll be here all afternoon."

"How many places in Elvalon sell maps?" Aria quipped.

"Maps like this?" Khel glared. "Just the one."

"Well that's not ominous at all, coming from you." She replied.

"The man we are visiting is not any old haberdasher off the street." Khel groaned. "If you want me to get your cruise liner to the capital through the Twisting Horror, we'll not be using a trinket off a market stall."

"Haberdasher?" Aria replied slowly, sounding the word out to herself. "Good lord. What does that even mean?"

"Wait. I thought it was the Twisting Death." Will corrected him. "How much of this are you making up on the spot?"

"That's not the point." Khel said abruptly. "I told you pirates called it that. I'm a pirate. Or I... can be... when I want to. No one takes that damned waterway. I don't remember all those stupid little rivers. If you want to try to get that three-hundred-foot cruise ship through that mess, be my guest. If I'm doing it, I'll be having a decent map."

"Khel. Whoever was in there is dead. Nobody lives a hundred and twenty years." Anaia reminded him slowly, as if she were talking to a crazy person. "Nobody except you... and I'm not sure you qualify."

Will couldn't help but notice the beginnings of a smile.

"Well, thank you for that." Khel said cheerily, putting his ear to the door. "But it seems your lack of faith won't be dooming our misadventure this day."

Latches began to swing open on the inside of the door, one after the other. The sound repeated itself—over, and over, and over—at least a half-dozen times.

Finally, with a great crack, the wall shuddered. Sand separated itself from the frame as the wooden edifice broke open, its rusted hinges protesting with terrible violence. Pieces of wood shot off onto the ground below in all directions.

A bald man stood there in the darkness, as old as time itself. His beard was nearly as long as Aladrian's. It had a little bit more color to it—but not much. He stood about five feet tall, with great beady eyes carrying both wisdom and an odd yearning.

He looked at the group with great interest.

He was as pale as a sheet, and he squinted viciously at the sight of the sun. He surveyed the five of them for a second or two, then turned away and disappeared into the silent dark, leaving only the open door behind. The sunlight penetrated five feet or so into the room—but that was it.

"What do we..." Will started.

Khel gently put his finger to Will's lips.

He stepped forward into the doorway, gesturing for the others to follow. Once they were inside, Khel pulled the door shut and took the time to latch every single lock. Will counted seven.

The floor was creaky, ancient wood—rotted. The place smelled, too. It had a must to it.

The man was already gone from sight into the darkness ahead.

Somehow, Khel seemed to know where he had gone. So Will followed Khel, the others keeping close behind.

Their footsteps gave rise to an overpowering cadence of creaking and jarring. Will worried that the wood below would give way. Closing the door had thrown the entire scene into black. But after a few seconds, an outline of the room came into view.

It had once been an elegant estate home, hundreds of years ago. Now, everything had the same look as the floor. The furniture, the walls, the hardwood—it was worn into debris. Gaping holes erupted in the walls and floorboards. They were lucky to have not fallen through already.

Their host had already walked to the far end of the room. He stood silently waiting by the wall opposite—back turned. Khel led them to him around a hole in the floor.

The man leaned against the wall, eyes closed. Moments later, he was gone. It was as though he had vanished through it. Will gave a double-take. There was no hole in the wall. The sandstone was solid.

"What..." Will began.

Khel interrupted by walking straight through the wall in the same spot.

Not missing a beat, Aria jumped straight through behind. Anaia shook her head with a smile, then followed. Aladrian hesitated a tiny bit, with an audible sigh. But he, too, stepped forward and was gone.

Will reached out. The wall rippled in front. His hand disappeared. He stepped forward. It was an odd sensation, passing through stone. It was there, but not there, at the same time. He couldn't explain it. He could feel the sandstone move through his body as he walked... it became transparent and nonexistent on contact with his skin.

This room was nothing like the last.

The space gleamed in a clean white glow. A multicolored three-dimensional image filled the air. Maps, topography, and landscapes in vivid color appeared—punctuated with a text Will could not read.

"Khel!"

A voice called out excitedly, catching Will off-guard.

The old bald man leapt up and wrapped his arms around Khel with a lithe energy.

Will looked at him more closely. The wrinkles across his face were still. They were deep-set and permanent—removed from the face itself, as though placed there as a distraction.

Will gasped.

The man reached across his face and pulled off an elaborate mask. Off came the wrinkles. Off came the beard. His new face was that of a different man. A much younger man, in his early forties.

His eyes were hazel fire. His face was long, angular, and rugged. He had a slight beard. It was an old, silvery thing, the same color as his hair, which it met at the sides—framing his features. He was on the shorter side. Fierce. His expressions, his behavior—it all telegraphed a state of siege. His enemies were many, his friends few. He lived his life in the shadows. But there was a strength here. A confidence. It was hard to doubt.

"What... what just happened?" Will asked.

"Will Darkwood, Esh. Esh, Will Darkwood." Khel said softly.

"That's it?" Will asked. "Just... Esh?"

"Not my given name." Esh replied with an odd grin. "We're a bit different. Aren't we, Khel?

"Wait." Will said, looking at Khel. "He's like you?"

"Not... exactly." Khel said after a moment, looking uncomfortable.

"Okay. What's not exactly supposed to mean?" Aria looked up at Khel, frustrated by his non-answer.

"Esh... well..."

"I escaped." Esh said promptly, cutting Khel off at the slightest hint of hesitation. "The instructors spent their time with the promising graftees like Khel, here. So, I slipped away."

"Just like that?" Will asked.

"It's surprisingly easy when you can do the things we can do." Esh replied.

"They tried to stop you, as I recall." Khel added.

"Yes." Esh replied vaguely—and fondly. "Yes, they did. Didn't they? In any event, I've found my true strengths lie in the intellectual realm. Come. Let me show you around."

The room was circular. In the center was a map of what Will recognized as Elvalon—with the Deep to the far left, and mountains behind the city to the right.

The Deep was larger than Will could have guessed, taking up most of the projection. Tributaries fed it from all directions—some from the mountains, some heading south, presumably towards the sea, and one directly east.

"There." Esh said sharply, pointing to that last river to the East—the one that had caught Will's eye. It wound through cliffs and mountain passes, with uncountable streams branching off in every direction the further it drew from the city.

"How do you..." Will began.

"Know where you're planning on going?" Esh smiled. "Please. It's my business to know."

"Esh acts like he's a person." Khel said. "Sometimes he even looks like one. This is not a man at all. This... this is your Shadowlight."

Esh bowed his head.

"Anything moves in this city, anyone new comes in or out, or goes to the tombs... he sees it. Knows about it. Reacts to it, through his network of spies, informants, magi. This room is the hub for the Arunite resistance. Think it was coincidence that Elara brought you in?"

"And you trust Khel?" Anaia stared incredulously, laughing to herself.

Esh looked to Khel for a quiet moment.

"I'm not sure trust is the right word." He said softly. "Some bonds... time has no hold on them. The others are our blood. We help each other. No matter what... chaos they may wreak on the world."

"Oh stop." Khel looked away with a hint of pride.

"You think I don't know what you've done?" Esh asked Khel, eyes piercing but kind. "It doesn't matter to me. You are always welcome here."

"Is there no more you can do?" Will asked Esh quietly.

"No." Esh's voice turned steely and grim. "Let me show you."

He walked around the consoles at the outer edge of the room and through a path to the center. The floor glowed all around. He waved his hands in the air, and the viewpoint zoomed in on Elvalon. A dramatic view of the skyline appeared all around, from a point somewhere above the Deep.

Esh did something more with his hands. Hundreds of flashing red dots overlaid the map.

"Every red dot is a house or Legion mage."

He moved his hands again. Blue dots appeared. Two dozen, at the most.

"Every blue dot is a Shadowlight mage." Esh's voice sounded weak. "Elara is one of them. As you can see, she is on your ship." Esh pointed to a blue dot in the Central docks. Dozens of red dots were positioning themselves around the docks, forming a perimeter.

"They're surrounding her." Will said quietly.

"Yes." Esh said patiently. "Your secret's out. You've a half-hour. More or less."

"Just when we were starting to feel welcome." Anaia grumbled.

"Esh." Khel continued. "You know why we're here."

"Khel." Esh replied in the same tone of voice. "What are you doing?"

Esh stared at Khel with a perceptive intensity.

"It's like nothing you've done before. Is it?" He said gently. "The Avatar may have something of a distaste for your antics. But you're more trouble than you're worth. You could live out your days at his side without problems. This will change everything for you."

Khel froze, not moving a muscle.

"Right. Just thought I'd ask if you were serious about this." Esh grumbled, looking more like the frail old man than he had since he took the mask off. "You know, it's been more than a century. If you wanted to join, all you had to do was ask."

Khel did not budge.

"Okay." Esh said, abruptly turning away. "Maybe it's not your way. Maybe you've had a change of heart. You've never been an easy one to read. But I should show you the capital before we get into your route."

He twirled his hands in the air, and the image zoomed out rapidly to the east. An immense city filled the space. The predominant colors were gold and blood-red, mixed sporadically with white. The whole thing bathed in a strange amber light.

Elaneth looked to be the single largest city Will had ever seen—including Elysia. It positively dwarfed Elvalon, probably by a 3:1 margin. Several rivers flowed through the center of it, and a great number of the structures in the city's core took up multiple blocks.

Esh waved his arms.

"Do you see any dots?" Esh asked simply.

"It's Elaneth." Khel replied just as simply. "They have... other things on their mind."

Will had no idea what that was supposed to mean.

Esh shook his head in silence. "You always did have a way of underestimating me."

"I could say the same thing." Khel said, looking Esh in the eye.

"It is my business to know these things." Esh insisted, returning Khel's gaze. "I don't know where you've been this last century, but I've been right here. No one goes into Elaneth. There's no Legion. No Houses. No Shadowlight. Nothing."

"It has always been my business to surprise you." Khel smiled.

"At least tell me you have a way into Adamantia." Esh pleaded with him.

Khel looked briefly to Will.

"Of course we do." Khel answered with a devious smile.

"We do?" Will asked.

Khel's shoulders slumped. He looked over at Will with a glare that could kill. "Remind me to play poker with you sometime."

Esh shot Khel a shrewd look.

"You know as well as I do how that palace is guarded. No one gets in without an invitation."

"I've got a way in." It was Khel's turn to be insistent.

"Will you help us?" Will asked, voice turning resolute.

Esh stepped off the platform in the center of the room, through the projections.

He walked so close to Will that he could reach out and touch him. The ferocity in those eyes was off-putting. Esh said nothing, but Will was being interrogated. Will felt a compelling need to fill the silence, to say something. Anything. Esh just stared. No blinks. No deviations. Seconds went by. Five. Ten. Fifteen. No one had the gall to speak.

"Yes." Esh said finally, breaking the peace. "I will help you. Provisionally." He added at the last second.

"What do you want?" Khel asked lazily, as though annoyed.

Esh looked over at Khel. He looked over at the map for a moment, then returned his gaze to Khel.

"You're bringing me with you." Esh said simply.

"You want to come to Elaneth?" Khel laughed out loud.

"Oh, please." Esh replied caustically. "I'm not crazy. To Elysia. If you're successful."

Everyone stared.

"When this is all over, when the tombs are gone, when the houses are dust and when Aru is free," he said wistfully, "I want a cabin on that ship."

"Done." Will said straight away.

A pause filled the space. The map hovered above them. Will's thoughts directed back to the red dots around the Dawn. How long did they have?

"Good, then." Esh said immediately. He walked back to the center of the room. Moving his hands around the map, he zoomed into the twisting, branching river that was their path.

Esh scrolled the map forward along the path from Elvalon to Elaneth, allowing them a full view of what they were to experience in the days ahead.

The river was wide. It looked wide enough for their ship, at least. It was anything but straight, though. It snaked along a path that could make the most hardened naval officer sick. Sharp rocks rose up in the center of the river at various, unpredictable intervals.

"Probably a moot point anyway." Esh said faintly.

"What? Why?" Will asked.

"See for yourself." Esh replied simply. "Your ship is 350 feet long. The capital waterway is... not like anything else in this country."

"That's what I keep telling them. They won't listen." Khel said darkly.

"We have to try." Will said quietly.

"If you run aground, temperatures in the Anja Cliffs region approach 120 degrees." Esh said without turning. "In the shade. That's assuming the bladed whitewater and falling rocks don't kill you inside of a day."

"You have a way of inspiring confidence." Will grumbled.

"Even in the wintertime, ten times more sailors have died navigating that passage than any other in Aru." Esh continued grimly. "And most of their ships are a third the size of yours."

"You run a resistance against overwhelming odds with that attitude?" Anaia asked.

"It never helps to sugarcoat bad facts." He replied. "Refusal to face something doesn't make it go away."

"I think I've spotted the source of your recruitment problem." Aria pitched in.

"Will you just give us the map already?" Khel sounded a bit tired.

Esh was unfazed. He rolled his hand gently over the mid-air image, and it disappeared. He paced to the side of the room nearest his visitors, and from an indentation in the desk he picked up a large book that Will was sure had not been there a moment ago.

"Safe travels, Khel." Esh said genuinely, making eye contact. "May your days be cool, your nights warm."

"Same to you, old friend." Khel replied, calming down. His own voice sounded kinder and gentler. "And thank you. We will see you again soon."

A soft alarm blared throughout the room, and the viewpoint of the display shifted back to the Elvalon Central Docks.

"They're moving on your ship sooner than expected." Esh warned.

"That's our cue." Will said.

"Don't forget our promise." Esh said as Will began to usher everyone together.

"I won't." Will nodded with a smile.

With a loud crack and a flash of light, they were gone.

#

# 

# Chapter 73 - Avast!

"Avast ye!" The captain's voice boomed across the deck as soon as the five newcomers appeared out of thin air. "Heave to! I've seen corpulent cockalorum cadets move faster."

Alfie stood at the captain's feet, barking up a storm.

Deckhands were hard at work in the scorching sun loosing the lines and getting the ship underway.

Everyone was on the deck. Julian, Grace, Evelyn, Elara—who now wore a thick bandage across her forehead—and dozens of Shadowlight guards stood to all sides, visibly impairing the operations of the ship's crew.

"Come on, milksops. This is sad." Tiberian continued hollering at his men in a mock-serious tone, pacing. "I've got lines affixed to that dock. Hobbledehoys, the lot of ye."

"Hobbledehoys?" Grace whispered to Julian. He shrugged.

"We're not moving!" The captain griped as the sails shot up the masts. Will was astonished at the speed this was taking place—not that he would let on. Tiberian knew how to speed up his men.

"Stampcrabs!" Tiberian shouted at a couple of deckhands who were laying about the masts. He pulled his oversized hat off his head and began hitting the two of them with it. "Scobberlotchers!"

Alfie scrambled to the two deckhands and ferociously nipped at their heels until they began working. He sauntered off towards Tiberian—stumpy legs a blur, tail wagging proudly.

Anaia had long since stopped paying any mind to the captain's outbursts. She stood by the edge of the deck nearest the dock, somberly peering over the edge. Will joined her, Khel to his side.

"There." She pointed to a group of four distant figures approaching from a nearby ship.

Their vessel was barely a quarter the length of the Dawn, and the deck was probably twenty feet below theirs. They wore the same cloaks as the magi who had tried to arrest them in Elara's hall.

"And there." Aria said, pointing in the opposite direction.

A group of small ships was leaving the docks from the opposite direction, circling around towards them. They were still a long way off, but they were headed in their direction—trying to head them off. They, too, were piloted by cloaked figures.

"Well?" Khel asked curtly.

"Well, what?" Will asked back.

"Do you have a plan?" Khel looked at him with sass.

"Were you not in the room with us five minutes ago?" Will asked with a stare. "The plan hasn't changed. We have the maps, and we're going to use them."

"Ah, so we are going with the Twisting Death." Khel grinned. "Just making sure."

"There we are with Twisting Death again." Anaia quipped. "I liked Twisting Horror."

"Unless anyone has a better idea."

"We could take an airship." Aria suggested.

"We'd have to steal it." Khel added.

"Did you catch the size of those things on the way in?" Anaia looked at Aria. "They probably have a crew of fifteen—each."

"So?" Aria asked.

"So it would take seven of them to fit the Dawn's complement." Anaia replied. "And even if we could find seven, we couldn't leave the Dawn here." Anaia asked. "It's Valis' most advanced piece of hardware."

"It's better than the alternative." Khel grumbled. "You'll wish you'd listened."

"More coming." Will pointed across to the docks.

More magi bolted down the steps at the far end of the docks, a hundred yards off.

The ship began to drift off from its moorings.

"About damned time, ladies!" The captain shouted. He could not help but betray his relief and pride in his crew.

"It looks like your decision has been made for you." Khel griped.

Will glared.

"Look out." One of the crew shouted.

A wave of fire hurtled their way from the docks. The magi had picked up their pace down the steps and were not willing to risk playing catch-up any longer.

They all began casting in unison. Hundreds of bolts of flame flew their way, filling the sky with an orange glow. The Dawn's sails were flammable. Even one of those could set them ablaze.

Anaia threw a blast of wind forward. The fire fizzled into smoke and steam before disappearing into the desert air.

The leader of their pursuers put up his arm, signaling for those behind to stop.

"Save your strength!" His voice called out after them. "They're in for the capital waterway. They're dead already."

With raucous laughter, the magi put down their arms. The two small ships that had been pursuing turned back. Broad, terrible smiles worked their way up their pursuers' lips. Cackles followed them into the Deep.

"There." Khel pointed to an inlet directly adjacent to the city, abutting a nearby cliff of straight sandstone. "That's our path."

The air left Will's lungs.

It looked like a waterfall. As the Dawn drew closer, Will saw that it was just the slope of the river. That did not calm his heart.

The dark-blue of the Deep transformed to a frothy white before it even came close to the inlet. The cliff to the left side was nearly straight-up. It rose several thousand feet, with loose rocks at all angles dangling precipitously near the edges. The river was a half-mile wide, with fallen rocks and ship carcasses jutting out bottom—many of which overlapped.

"Let's get this over with." Tiberian grumbled into the mast.

By now, the sails were drawn, with a steady wind. The ship shuddered under the force of the forward momentum they provided. The Dawn was drawing inexorably towards its fate.

"You've always had my highest confidences, Mr. Cole." The captain said gravely.

"You're not inspiring them right now." Cole's voice came back through the mast. He sounded anything but confident. Still, the ship maintained a perfect course towards the gap between the ruined wooden hulls of two ancient cargo vessels. One of them had been ripped in half by a falling shard of sandstone, large enough to reach the bottom of the river and still stick up a few hundred feet.

The other ruined ship must have run into submerged rocks. It looked fine, but for the fact that it was mostly covered in water—and that it was missing its back end. Will wondered why it had never sunk.

"Khel." Will said quietly, walking to his companion at the side of the ship.

Khel nodded.

"Didn't you say the Dawn would need hull reinforcement to get through this?" Will asked.

"Why, yes." Khel said with a vociferous bite to his voice. "Yes, I did, William. Thank you for remembering. And for doing nothing. It was easier when I thought you'd forgotten."

"When would we have had the chance to refit the ship in that place, anyway?" Anaia added from behind.

"I don't know." Khel admitted. "But going through this passage in a hundred-yard ship without a reinforced keel is not just suicide. It's gambling—which way do you want to die? Drowning? Heat stroke? Impalement? None of those provide a pleasant end."

"It can't be that bad." Aria looked ahead, to the shrinking distance to the river, voice betraying a shriveling hope. "The two biggest cities in the country... they've got to be able to trade with each other."

"Think you've got it all figured out, do you?" Khel stared. "The river trade is one-way. From Elaneth, via another river. No one with a brain goes this way. It's the Arunite merchant fleet's form of natural selection. Boats are taken apart and moved to the capital on caravans."

Will looked at Khel. He saw real fear in those eyes.

"We're doing this." Will said with feigned confidence.

Indeed, there was no way out of it at this point. Between the currents and the wind, the ship was being pulled in. The whitewater below battered the hull with terrible force.

The Dawn was beginning to rock back and forth. The ship lurched, pitching forward uncontrollably. Will's stomach fell. He nearly lost his footing. The sound of creaking wood began to dominate over the raging waves below.

The river was pulling them in.

#

# 

# Chapter 74 - Charybdis

Just in time, Will managed to grab hold of one of the lines leading to the mast.

Several crew lost their footing and fell, sliding across the deck and rolling out of control towards one side or another, colliding violently with masts or railings. Two managed to grab hold of something or other, like Will.

One hit his head on a mast, sliding away unconscious.

The ship listed violently to port. The unconscious crewman was in danger of being swept overboard, into the churning rapids.

The waters looked deep. Despite the bright-white hue of the churning river, the calmer bits were a dark shade of blue—almost black. Razor-sharp rocks drew the rapids into vortices, sweeping the water at the top down underneath. And it was nearly a half-mile to each shore—too far to swim in these conditions. The desert brush to each side looked tiny. Anyone overboard now would be lost.

The unconscious crewman was almost gone. Already the water on the deck was taking him, pulling him to the side. The Dawn was listing thirty degrees.

Will reached out with his hand and grabbed the man's shirt. It nearly pulled over his head, but not quite. His descent down the side of the deck stopped just as a savage wave ripped across the hull.

Will almost lost his footing. And he lost his hold on the unconscious man.

The ship lurched again—this time to starboard.

The left side of the ship lifted clear out of the water, and the masts nearly grazed an outcropping of sharp rocks to the right.

Just as the man began to fly off towards the starboard side, the ship righted itself.

"Alright, that's it. I want everybody belowdecks." The captain shouted from the mast. "Now. Move, scalawags."

A constant stream of barks called across the deck. Alfie stared down the savage waves, as if to challenge them. One after another, they impacted the ship, soaking Alfie. He weathered the first few of these, keeping to the same spot, barking louder and louder.

Sailors piled through the door to the foredecks enclave behind Will. Only about a dozen were left on the deck, and they were only too eager to get through the door.

With the help of two nearby sailors, Will grabbed hold of the unconscious man and pulled him inside.

"You too." The captain shouted to Will and his companions. "I'll not have you risking yourselves any more than my crew."

Will heard no argument. The deck was empty moments later—all except for Tiberian, Alfie, and himself.

"And just what do you think you're waiting for?" The captain asked Will. The ship lurched, caught in a terrible wave. The captain grabbed onto the mast to keep his footing. "I'm right behind you. Take Alfie and go."

Will wasn't about to disobey. The man knew his ship, and he knew what he was doing.

He took Alfie into his arms and darted into the enclave. He left the door open for a few moments. But there came a terrible lurch, and everyone was blown back against the far wall. The door shut and latched on its own. A ghastly rumbling shook the ship.

Will put Alfie down. Alfie threw himself at the door, getting up on two legs and scratching at it with ferocity. After a few seconds he laid down on the wood floor with his head between his paws and stared at the door with a cry. It was a terrible, heart-wrenching sound.

There was no room inside the enclave. Three crew were forced into the tiny room leading to the stairs below, helping the man Will had saved sit back up. Two of these were men—both well-built and broad-shouldered. One was short with long, brown locks down to his shoulders. The other was tall, with short-cut blond hair. The third was a woman—lean and muscular, with short red hair and fiery green eyes. The man on the floor seemed to be waking up. Still, it was clear he had no idea where he was, or how he had gotten there.

"Where's the skipper?" The woman asked Will with a bite to her tone, looking at Alfie.

Will looked up without saying anything.

"Tell me you didn't leave him out there alone."

The ship gave a terrible shudder. A slow and repetitive creaking echoed throughout the hull—the worst yet, by far. Will felt something impact the Dawn—whether a wall of water or something more, he couldn't say.

With a sigh, Will turned the door knob and gave it a push. It didn't budge. He tried a second time, pushing even harder. Nothing.

"Let me try." The brown-haired crewman pushed Will aside, throwing his whole body into the door.

"There's something on the other side." The female sailor said.

"Water?" Will asked. "Could we be sinking?"

All three sailors chuckled.

"We'd know if the Dawn were going down." The blond man responded.

"Could be water though," said the woman. "The ship expels deck water on its own, but it still leaves the skipper out there on his lonesome."

"He won't last long in those waves." The brown-haired crewman said.

"Last long in what?" The unconscious sailor was stirring. "What's... where is this? Why are you all grabbing hold of me?"

The others let go.

"Because, Siksy, you couldn't keep from getting yourself knocked out in a bit of chop."

"Huh... doesn't sound like me." The man responded drowsily.

"What are we going to do about the skipper?" The woman responded, pushing on the door to no avail. She cried out in frustration.

Will disappeared in a flash of light.

A moment later, he found himself on the deck, submerged in three feet of icy water.

Pins and needles struck all across his body, and he struggled to keep his chest heaving to bring enough air in and out of his lungs. He couldn't see any of the Dawn's deck beneath the water, except the stern and the masts.

The captain was just ahead. He managed to keep his head out of the writhing seas, for now. The fur coat was not helping. Somehow, his grip on the mast was steady.

A thirty-foot wall of water overcame the bow, and everything changed.

Will watched in horror as the captain disappeared overboard. Ripped from his handhold, he had not the slightest chance to save himself. He was gone.

The wave that had caught the captain missed Will. The foredecks shielded him from it.

Will was alone on the deck.

Adrenaline flowing through him, Will waded through the chest-high water on the deck. Without a second thought, he leapt off the side of the Dawn.

He immediately regretted that decision.

It was a good fifty feet down, and Will had no idea what might lie below that white, frothy mass. Sharp rocks surrounded him, emerging from the water like thirty-foot knives.

He had hoped that none of these would be beneath the surface, that it would be water— and only water—beneath. His hopes were borne out, in the end. But nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of that frigid impact. Needles pierced his skin at all angles. The currents ripped down across his body—down until he could no longer see the sun.

His lungs burned. His eyes raged at the lack of oxygen. He kicked with every ounce of energy. But no matter what, he kept sinking. The current was stronger than he was. The water poured into his lungs. His limbs convulsed for want of air.

He was drowning.

The pain was a fiery wrath all through his body. Delirium took him. Images flashed through his mind. The lake. His childhood. His parents.

Just as he felt consciousness slipping away, his thoughts returned to the here and now. He imagined the surface—the sun-drenched air, the warm desert breeze of the canyon.

With a flash of light came a second chance.

Will was where the deck had been just a few moments before. Only there was no deck. He was fifty feet above the water, gasping desperately and falling a second time.

Without a second thought he pushed up telekinetically against the rocks below, balancing between three outcroppings.

Somehow, it worked. Will hovered in mid-air between them. For a few moments he felt himself shifting, but he kept his balance. Will shivered violently as the icy water poured from his soaking frame. The winds were relentless. His arms and legs shook involuntarily.

He turned. The Dawn was a quarter-mile ahead. It looked so small.

Something caught his eye straight away—a dark mass at the surface of the water, tumbling between small rocks and heading for a series of sharper-looking ones a hundred yards off. The captain. The floating fur coat gave him away.

Pushing from one of the rocks below, Will launched forward. He was going to land behind the captain. But not far behind—maybe twenty feet or so. His aim, it turned out, wasn't so bad.

The impact, on the other hand, left something to be desired. It amounted to a belly-flop. At these speeds it knocked the wind out of him. He scrambled to the surface and desperately gasped for breath.

Will was a good swimmer. He and Lewis had spent their summers on Haven Lake as children. But swimming had little to do with staying afloat here. The chill of the water, the violence of the currents, and the rocky obstacles in every direction were constant threats, and he had to swim up as much as forward.

As Will grew closer, he saw that the captain was face-down—unmoving—carried along by the currents alone. This gave him the jolt of terror and adrenaline he needed to catch up. It didn't take him more than a few moments to grab onto the fur coat.

With another flash of light, they were gone.

Will had not given too much thought to their destination. That was a mistake.

The two ended up in the sky—several thousand feet above the river, and a quarter mile or so forward from where they had been.

It was a terrifying shift in circumstance—not to mention frigid, with hurricane-force winds buffeting the fall. But Will gripped the lifeless captain, and he caught a momentary glimpse of the ship in the distance below. It was all he needed.

With another flash of light, they were onboard—inside, no less—in a hallway.

Will flipped the captain's body over. He was pale, clammy, and deathly still.

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# Chapter 75 - Twisting Death

"Captain." Will called out, staring down at the lifeless body. "Captain!"

Nothing. He was dead.

"No, you don't." Will stubbornly began chest compressions. This was something Lewis' mother had taught him as a boy, as a condition of going out on the lake.

Nothing. Ten seconds passed. Twenty. Will kept it up.

Out of nowhere, Tiberian coughed violently, spewing water everywhere.

Will cheered involuntarily.

After he finished coughing, Tiberian's enormous frame was on its feet in moments.

The abruptness took Will by surprise. This man was absurdly hardy. Will was still shivering violently in icy-cold clothes on the wooden floor. The captain was about to help him up.

"Good save, William." He said curtly, slapping Will on the shoulder. "I owe you one."

He pulled Will to his feet. Will took his arm, climbing to his feet and staring back in disbelief. He couldn't help but stare, shivering again as he made a futile attempt to brush the icy water from his clothes.

"You're damned useful in a pinch." Tiberian bellowed, starting off down the hallway. "But what's the holdup? To the bridge."

A calamity erupted through the hall behind.

It was Alfie. Having heard Tiberian's voice, the corgi was bounding down the hall, a flabbergasted grin plastered across his face. His little legs moved so fast they could not be seen.

"Alf!" The captain shouted. "Ha ha!" He picked up the corgi and held him in his arms.

The ship lurched forward furiously, listing to the starboard side. Another creaking sound echoed throughout.

"That didn't sound good." Will remarked.

"What is that Cole playing at?" Tiberian mumbled, carrying Alfie down the hall.

They were surprisingly close to the center of the ship. Only a few doors down, Tiberian found the hallway that led to the great oak door. It slid open at the captain's presence.

Red lights flashed across the inside, which was dim—except for the spherical projection of the ship's exterior along the outer wall.

It was a dramatic sight—watching the Dawn tumble down the great river. Will almost wished he couldn't see quite so much.

The jagged rocks that were few and far between just a mile back were now beginning to form walls—breaking off from the sides of the river into the center of their path, leaving only narrow ways between. Cole guided the ship artfully between gaps. The constant downward slope was staggering. It was so steep Will felt himself being pulled forward, even from a standing position. He couldn't imagine how difficult it was for the ship to steer, with so much speed having gathered already.

The ship must have been making fifty knots. It rocked from side to side, buffeted by the winds. Every time Cole brought it between a gap in the rocks, Will was sure one of these lists would bring it into contact with a wall of stone, shearing open the hull. Given their viewpoint, there was no way of seeing exactly where the side of the ship was. Cole seemed to know.

"Oh, no." The captain sighed, his voice grave—barely above a whisper.

It took Will a moment to see what he was referring to.

Up ahead, between another series of rocks, the river grew even steeper. Then it turned, almost 180 degrees—narrowing dramatically as it did. It could not have been more than a few hundred feet wide at the most. The raging torrent turned back on itself like a wild snaking creature carved into the mountainside. It looked almost like a waterfall.

That was their path. There was no way back now.

"Everyone grab onto something." The captain shouted through the comms system in his chair. "This is about to get interesting."

"And you." He looked at Will, who was still standing behind and to the side of his chair. "Find a seat and strap yourself down." Will detected dread in the captain's voice, despite an obvious attempt to conceal it. The captain did the same, strapping himself to the chair with one hand and holding Alfie tight with the other.

Will strapped himself in none too soon.

As Cole guided the ship through the final collection of jagged rocks, the river began to narrow. The passage that had been nearly a mile wide now offered precious few feet of clearance. It began to twist downward and to the left. Great rock walls rose up to either side.

Crashing and cracking noises called out all around, above and below—as though the Dawn's listing were displacing people and possessions throughout the decks. There were screams.

Through all of this, the bridge was surprisingly serene. But even here, constant vibrations from the churning water made their way in. There was to be no doubt of the sudden and violent death that awaited them, should Cole become distracted for even a second.

Sailors to all sides looked at each other with terror and uncertainty. Even to a relative newcomer like Will, it was clear that this was something new to everyone here.

Somehow, though, the ship made the turn—all 180 degrees of it.

Will thought he might be sick. The Dawn threatened to capsize with the starboard list. A vertical cliffside fell off directly to the right. Looking down that side, Will watched the water pour straight down that way—some thousands of feet into the distance below. A spike of adrenaline hit him. They were only seconds from falling. The ship course-corrected just in time.

Will brought his eyes to the horizon just as the ship righted itself—far off to the starboard side, in the eastern sky.

There it was. Elaneth. It had to be. Despite their situation, Will could hardly look away.

Magnificent architecture defined the horizon. A vast city stretched across the vista and grew to dominate it into the background. It was just at the edge of sight, where an unnatural golden mist mingled with the afternoon sun.

The city's architecture was a particular dialect of pointed stone, glass, and metal— defined by liberal use of arches and curves in gold, crimson, and white. Domes and multi-level terraces rose from the ground, incorporating a great bay and running rivers. A forest of gold, red, and purple willows rose along with the capital. Elaneth bathed in autumn light.

Occasional spires rose dramatically from the metropolis. Most of these looked sharp—with symmetrical sides like opposing scimitars. Accompanied by hovering platforms, they shattered the distant sky, challenging the golden haze that rose alongside the city.

"What..." The captain muttered to himself.

At first Will thought he must have been referring to the city.

But no. Tiberian was more practical than that. His eyes were straight ahead.

Something blocked the ship's path, not a half-mile up. A great rock from the mountain above had fallen into the river's path. A hundred feet tall and double that across, it made their route impassable.

It diverted the stream—turning it aside off the cliff. Where the river had once continued down the twisting path, now it went off to the right, unceremoniously from the bluff—thousands of feet down.

Cole began to turn the ship away from the wall, towards the impromptu waterfall.

"No." The captain said quietly. "No, no, no."

"Yes." Cole responded, turning the ship into the impromptu waterfall.

"My God, you're serious, aren't you?" The captain said to himself, shaking his head with dread as the ship pitched dramatically to the right, listing in the opposite direction.

"No choice, 'less you want to crash into that rock." Cole replied. "Engineering, prep whatever that core can give me."

"Aye, sir." A woman responded promptly.

Tiberian slammed his hand on the panel. "Everyone hold onto something that's not going anywhere. The next minute will be something to tell your grandkids about... if we make it out of this." He said the last bit under his breath, after taking his hand off the button.

The edge of the cliff was no more than a hundred yards off. It approached painfully slowly. Nothing could be seen past that frothy edge.

"Engineering, what have you got for me?" Cole's voice filled the room.

Silence.

"Engineering." He called again.

"They're not sure what's wrong with it." The sailor replied from the engineering station.

"That's engineer speak for it's dead." Cole replied. "Buckle your seat belts, folks."

The ship shuddered. Will's heart skipped a beat. In the seconds that he'd looked away, they'd reached the edge. He could see straight over.

That was it. Then came the familiar lurching sensation in the pit of his stomach. Gravity disappeared. Will remembered nothing more.

Part 7 - Elaneth

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# Chapter 76 - Eventide

Will woke up slowly.

Memories blended together. The mix of colors, the passing of time.

It was dark. Faint red lights illuminated the bridge. Will looked to the rest of the bridge crew. Everyone was still. They all slumped in their chairs, eyes shut.

His eyes shot forward, to the outside of the ship. The exterior lights were off. Visibility was almost nothing. Outside was a dark, murky orange. Fog was everywhere. The floor beneath rocked back and forth with the waves. Unlike the turbulent river, these waves were smooth. They rocked to and fro with an ease and fluency.

But what was this place?

It couldn't have been the same river. The calm here was distinct. The ship glided quietly, serenely—and without a pilot.

Climbing to his feet, Will felt his head throb.

With each heartbeat, a jab of pain hit him behind his eyes, staying there for a half second before dissipating in time for the next beat. Nausea took him too. He felt like he might vomit. Something poured into his face from above. His right eye stung with pain.

He instinctively moved his hands to his face. Blood stuck to his fingers. He was nursing a head wound. It poured out of his temple faster than he could deal with it, quickly covering his face, his shirt, the floor—everything.

After converting an old handkerchief to a grisly makeshift bandage, he climbed to his feet. The bridge was still. Not a soul stirred. Only the dull strobes of the crimson emergency lighting gave any sense of movement.

Will wandered to the navigation console and the ship's wheel.

He tried to rouse Cole.

He was still, eyes shut. Will couldn't make out any injuries, but the man's mouth hung open at an odd angle. His head rested against the chair, moving loosely from side to side.

"Cole." Will called out. "Cole."

He shook him gently by the shoulders.

Finally, the pilot's eyes opened.

"Why are you touching me?" His voice was low and confused.

Will stepped back.

"No one's driving?" Will pointed to the viewscreen all around.

"Very astute." Cole said contritely, quickly moving his hands to the wheel, and to some complicated-looking dials on its perimeter.

The ship lurched subtly under his influence. Lights switched on, illuminating the immediate area.

The light didn't help much. The more light he shone outside, the more reflected off the fog. Will thought he saw trees to one side—bizarrely beautiful orange and yellow maples and oaks. Beyond the reach of the light, everything swam in a murky amber haze.

A three-dimensional map appeared above the navigation console, along with hovering information panels made of pure light. Will didn't recognize what they showed, but Cole did.

"What?" Cole asked no one in particular, eyes lighting up as he stared up at the map.

"Where are we?" Will kept his voice down—as though raising it might disturb the slumbering crew.

"You'd better get the captain." Cole stared at the map.

"What does it say?" Will asked.

"Just... find Tiberian, okay?" Cole sounded worried.

It didn't take long. The captain was still in his seat—slumped forward. His head dripped blood all over the floor in front. A small pool of it formed below the chair, mixing with the seawater from his clothing.

Somehow, Alfie was still in the captain's arms, apparently uninjured. He looked like he was sleeping. His tongue was hanging out wildly, chest rising and falling.

"Captain." Will said quietly. "Captain."

Alfie woke up and launched himself at Tiberian, licking his face without compunction.

The captain opened his eyes. "Oh. Oh, alright alright, Alf. I'm fine." He said with an abrupt laugh, pulling the corgi off of him and looking forward.

"Darkwood." The captain turned red. "How long have you been standing there?"

Will smiled, stepping back.

"Hah! We're alive!" Tiberian shouted briefly before looking ahead. "Where are we?"

"Good question." Cole replied from a few feet ahead. "I would say the better question is how we got here."

"One thing at a time." The captain said simply. "Where's here?"

"On final approach to Elaneth." Cole replied. "The Arunite capital."

"What?" Tiberian leapt out of his chair towards Cole.

"Believe it." Cole responded. "We're three miles from Elaneth Harbor. This nice little tributary is a straight shot. Ten or fifteen minutes, and we're in port traffic."

"Then this fog... it's..." Tiberian's words trailed off into petrified nothingness. He stared blankly at the fog beyond the viewscreen.

"Last I remember was that ledge." Will said.

"We had another four hours of that nasty river ahead of us." Cole gestured at the hovering three-dimensional map. "Then, yeah. The cliff."

"How did we survive that fall, anyway?" Will asked.

"That's the other thing." Cole said softly. "No damage."

"Well, that's good." Will said. "Right?"

"No, you don't get it." Cole replied. "That bluff was two thousand three hundred forty-two feet tall. Straight down. We had enough of the core left to lessen the impact a bit, maybe. But not much. Not enough. And now... well, I can't find a scratch on the hull. That doesn't just happen."

"I want you to listen to me very carefully."

The captain's voice was thick with dread.

Cole and Will stared. A silence took the room.

"I want us on internal air, for as long as possible." Tiberian continued. "Shut down all external vents. Keep all windows shut until further notice. Until we rouse the crew, the ship is on recirculation. Do you understand?"

Still, the two of them just stared.

"What's out there, sir?" Cole asked.

"Do you understand?" The captain insisted, voice low and intense.

"Aye, sir." Cole said, confused. "But that will only slow whatever's out there getting in. It won't stop it."

"Then you'd best help me rouse them." The captain gestured to the unconscious crew.

"Aye." Cole said quietly.

Everyone on the bridge was awake not two minutes later. No one else had taken any wounds. But everyone was hard to rouse. The last two took nearly a minute to wake up.

Tiberian pressed a red button on his panel. An alarm blared through the ship. Even through the thick bridge door, Will could hear it echoing through the halls outside.

"General quarters. To your stations." The captain called through the comms system in his chair. "To anyone who can hear this... find a memory that means something to you and keep it close. That's all."

Will and Cole exchanged concerned looks.

"You." He pointed at Will. "Get out there and make sure they're hearing me. And that advice goes for you, too."

Tiberian shook his head back and forth in frustration.

"We were supposed to have hours to prepare for this." He protested to no one in particular, offering no further explanation.

"Go..." He stared at Will.

Will shuddered as the great oak door came to an abrupt close behind.

The halls bore the same strange red lighting as the bridge. They were all empty. Despite the alarm, loud enough to cause pain with every ring, a stillness took them.

The alarm stopped. Silence clung to these corridors now. Will could hardly hear his own breathing. Will's footsteps echoed down the corridor.

The captain's odd speech stuck in his mind. The circumstances did not seem so dire.

Still, something felt wrong. He couldn't explain it. The ship was too quiet. Too still. Something was subduing it, keeping it from becoming the living, moving place he knew it to be.

Steadily, Will found a stillness making its way into his mind. Despite what he knew, despite the total lack of movement or sound or people, everything felt... right somehow. He knew something was wrong, but he no longer felt it—not in the way he should have. And that frightened him terribly.

Will tried the forward lounge first.

Every chair was neatly pushed into every table. The bottles at the bar were right where they should have been. Plates and crystal glasses were neatly racked near the kitchen.

The grand six-story room was deathly still. All was quiet. Not a soul was in sight.

The space was faint and shadowy—lit only by the dim red glow of the lanterns, and by the ethereal glow of the orange fog outside, filtering in through the great windows. The golden gleam moved of its own accord, shifting and undulating with a mind of its own, casting a charming dawn-like aspect on the great room.

Like the rest of the ship, this place was picturesque. Still as a mausoleum. Will's every step stretched through it, sending an echo through all six levels—straight to the top deck. The longer Will lingered here, the more he felt accustomed to the calm. The terror in his heart began to fade, as did his concern for his companions. He knew he should feel afraid. He knew he should feel disquiet that the halls were so barren, that his friends were gone. But he didn't. His heart was vacant. A vague smile crept across his lips. It was deeply unsettling.

Will turned back down the hall.

Another minute of navigating silent, vacant corridors brought him face-to-face with no one in particular. Every hall was still, every door shut. Will tried to keep a handle on his emotions, but the same cloying contentment found a way inside.

Several minutes after that, Will had come to the foredecks enclave. It, too, was empty.

Despite the captain's terror of whatever was outside the ship, something was drawing him out. On any other day, he might have called it curiosity. Not today. He felt compelled to leave the confines of the Dawn. To see the shifting amber mists for himself.

As he opened the door to the deck, the fog rushed in. It filled the enclave in seconds, bringing a radiant dawnlight gleam. The space lit up all around.

Will made his way outside.

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# Chapter 77 - A Drink of Pacific Air

The glowing amber fog that filled Will's lungs brought a sense of ease, of comfort.

He felt at peace. Any thought of goals, objectives, or ambitions grew distant. For a moment, he even forgot why he had left the bridge.

Will retained just enough presence of mind to shut the door behind, stopping any more of the golden gleam from finding its way into the ship.

Turning, he saw a figure at the opposite end of the deck—facing the other way—barely visible through the shifting haze. He walked towards it.

Walking was more difficult than it should have been. Every movement of the deck seemed faster than he knew it to be. His balance was off, too. The ship swooned hypnotically with the waves. He shook his head to try to clear it, but the cloying cloud on his mind remained.

"It's quite something, isn't it?" Anaia's voice was melodic. Will had reached the opposite side of the deck before realizing it.

Trees glided by the ship to each side in an ethereal spectacle—gold, orange, and purple leaves of all shapes. They towered over the masts, which themselves extended at least a hundred feet up. Branches hung from both sides of the slow-moving stream—an arboreal tunnel glistening in all the colors of autumn.

"What... what is this? What's happening to me?" Will's own voice seemed to echo in the air—reverberating all around and throughout the amber.

"Have you not heard the stories?" She asked, turning to him.

Anaia seemed more vivid than usual somehow. Her jade eyes were brighter. Clearer. They held more color. Her skin was darker, her outlook more confident. Her voice was softer. Sharper. She seemed more perilous. More discerning. It was as though her natural aspects were being enhanced—accentuated by this place.

"What stories?" Will asked.

"This is the Eventide." Her voice rang out into the air as she gazed off into the woods. Then she was silent, as though her reply needed no further explanation.

"The what?" Will asked.

"The Avatar's own brand of peace."

"What?" Will asked, confused.

"It's a spell." A soft voice called out behind.

Will turned.

Aladrian looked different, too. The wrinkles were fewer. But the most salient change had to do with the eyes. They were deeper, softer, wiser—they burned through the hazy air with a unique hopeful clarity. Gone was the shadow of pessimism that had accompanied him before. His elderly frame moved with a graceful cheer.

"A spell of the most ancient and insidious variety."

"Insidious?" Will asked, eyebrows raised. "This doesn't feel insidious."

"That's what makes it so." He responded with a dark shade of joviality.

Aladrian sprang through the wafting clouds of amber to the bow, joining Will and Anaia.

"Let me put it to you this way." He looked to Will. Anaia stared at Will, too—from the other side. "If you were to be happy, all the time—no matter what—would you consider that a good thing?"

Will paused for a moment.

"Think carefully." Aladrian admonished.

Will stared back with a puzzled expression—as though it must be a trick question.

This feeling... he couldn't shake it. It was everywhere. All around. Within, without, coloring memory and perception. It was a warm fireplace with a cup of cocoa, surrounded by family and a freshly decorated fir on Christmas Eve. It was the brilliant morning sun on Haven Lake, rays shimmering on the dancing water.

How could feeling like this be bad?

"The citizens of Elaneth are the least productive people on the planet." Aladrian smiled grimly. "According to rumor. But right now, I am inclined to believe it."

"Everyone? In the entire city?" Will asked skeptically. "How?"

"According to the Arunite underground, no one in Elaneth makes... much of anything."

"How does that work?" Will asked in skeptical disbelief. "Where do they get their food? How do they provide for themselves?"

"Good questions." Aladrian admitted.

"And you never thought about an answer?" It sounded like Khel's voice.

But this was even deeper. Darker. For the first time, he sounded like something... else. Something other than human. Khel had grown even more haggard. More intimidating. He looked taller. Larger. His eyes were murky, impenetrable pools, surrounded by deep-set black circles. His hair was wilder than usual, as was the mad, wide-eyed expression across his face.

"Oh, come now." He continued, walking up behind the other three—painfully slowly. "I should think you'd be able to figure it out. I always thought it was obvious."

"Obvious?" Will asked.

"Surely you know what the word means." Khel grinned.

Will stared, stupefied.

"It all has to come from somewhere." Anaia added. "Trade?"

"Origin." Will added.

"Oh good. Very good there, William." Khel chuckled. "You've been reading your tomes."

"The Avatar conjures food and commodities for fifty million people?" Aladrian scoffed. "Right."

"Can you think of a better way to make yourself indispensable?" Khel asked, moving right up beside Anaia. Will expected her to recoil, to step back. But she didn't.

"But how?" Will asked. "Is that even possible? It would take up all of his time... wouldn't it?"

Aladrian smiled at the concept. "Ah. But you're not properly considering scale, are you?" He asked thoughtfully. "He can fill up entire reservoirs—whole storehouses with a single thought."

"What?" Will asked quietly. "Really?"

"It's like I said." Khel said, not taking his eyes off Anaia. "With him, anything is possible."

Khel looked out at the mists, a slight smile passing over his face as he took in a deep breath.

"The capital is the province of the elite. The affluent. The connected. The savvy." He said slowly. "For lowborns to even to come close enough to take in the Eventide means entombment... elsewhere, of course. There are no tombs in the great city. It's an academic punishment these days. No one risks it anymore."

"Lowborns?" Will asked.

Khel shot him a strange look, as though the word needed no defining.

"Common folk." He said simply. "Scum."

Anaia backed away at the last bit, shooting him a fiery glare.

"And we have defectors from this place?" Will asked Aladrian.

"Very few." Khel muttered slowly.

"The people of Elaneth don't aspire to be more than they are." Aladrian responded. "They don't grow. They don't change. They exist. That's about it."

"They don't fear, either." Khel retorted. "As far as Aru goes, that's not so bad."

He paused for a moment, as if contemplating what he had just said.

"But... you're not wrong." Khel added. "Hence, why you're stuck with me."

"So this spell—what, brings joy?" Will asked. "That's the ultimate instrument of the Avatar's oppression? I have to say—I expected worse."

He looked to Aladrian.

"Imagine feeling the way you feel right now, every single day for the rest of your life. Then, trying to make something of yourself." Aladrian said. "Say you want to become an architect, for instance. An engineer. Can you imagine how distracting this would be?"

"The architecture I saw earlier didn't look so bad." Will commented.

"Guess who controls the counterspell." Khel muttered cynically.

"Why don't they leave, then?" Will asked. "The ones who don't get the counterspell, I mean?"

"Why do you think?" Khel glared.

Will stared back blankly.

"The longer you're here, the worse you get. Most are so far-gone they can't even conceive of the concept of leaving. Given the choice, the ones who can would rather die than lose the Eventide." Khel grumbled, looking away. "Men have been known to abandon family for its sake. They assume that to lose it, to lose the capital, would be to lose themselves."

"Are they right?"

"Oh, who knows?" Khel was glowering. Will couldn't help but think there was something personal here. "So few ever leave. They forget what life was like before—if they ever knew at all."

A moment of silence fell.

"No, Will." Khel continued. "Elaneth is an elegant cage. An involuntary captivity of privilege, indulgence, and dependence."

A pleasant breeze blew by, lifting the fog just enough to clear visibility for a hundred yards or so.

This forest was like something out of a dream.

Trees soared into the sky on all sides. Their branches collected the amber light of the arboreal valley, rising it into the air and branching it out into every color. Apart from the golds, reds, and purples, there were green leaves here, up above—hundreds of yards into a distant canopy above. It all rose into a forest of multicolored greenery, flickering in the gentle wind.

The fog broke just enough for hints of the distant sun to pass through from above. The golden light of the afternoon danced in the shimmering light.

"I don't understand." Will said finally.

Everyone's eyes were on him.

"Is this supposed to come as a shock to me?" Khel's eyebrows raised.

Will shot him a nasty glare, then continued.

"We survived." He said simply. "How did we survive that cliff?"

"And just what makes you think we survived?" Khel asked.

Will shot Khel a confused look.

"Let me ask you something." Khel continued. "What do you remember of the fall?"

Will paused.

"Nothing?" Khel nodded. "And you're not hurt?"

"No, I had a gash on my head." Will replied softly. He felt his head, searching for the ripped flesh. It was gone.

"Can't find it?" Khel asked, a teasing grin finding its way across his face.

"What?" Will asked, touching the skin where the wound had been. It was intact. There was no injury. "I was hurt. I was bleeding."

"If you say so." Khel's grin grew. "And the ship... undamaged as well?"

"What are you playing at?" Will asked, growing frustrated and perplexed.

"It's the Eventide." Aladrian added, seeing Will's frustration. "It's not just a means of control."

"It's said to have incredible properties." Anaia added. "A mind of its own. It enforces tranquility in its surroundings. Probably slowed the ship's descent, then restored it and healed the crew."

"It saved our lives?" Will said to Aladrian, a look of disbelief on his face—as if to ask him what was so insidious about that.

"Just wait until we get to the city." Aladrian shook his head. "You'll see what I mean. We can talk about 'saved' in a few minutes."

"You won't have much waiting to do." Khel nodded ahead of the bow.

The river came to an end just ahead. The tunnel of trees, which had maintained such a perfect, almost manicured consistency up until this point, now widened dramatically and then vanished from sight.

The haze cleared just enough for them to see.

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# Chapter 78 - Harbor of Shimmering Light

Hundreds of ships danced to and fro in the placid water with grace.

Unlike the hodgepodge at Elvalon, these all had a similar color scheme. The sails and hulls were crimson, with gold trim. The masts were off-white, with golden carvings.

Most of the traffic consisted of small vessels, as it had in Elvalon. But unlike the ships there, which were mostly trade or fishing boats, these were almost all pleasure craft. Their occupants bore opulent picnics—crackers, cheeses, and wine bottles with long-stemmed glasses.

They also encountered the occasional tall ship that put even the Dawn to shame in both size and majesty. Some of the greatest were nearly five hundred feet long, with intricate hulls and curved sails. Their sails bore red and gold flame patterns, flickering in the omnipresent golden fog.

"I thought your ships weren't luxury liners, Khel." Will pointed at a massive and ornate ship nearby.

It had hundreds of carved windows in the hull, and its elegant sails made even the Dawn look positively simple by comparison.

"Is that a Legion ship?" Khel responded flippantly. "I don't see an insignia on it."

"Someone's splitting hairs." Will replied.

"What do you want from me?" A broad smile appeared on Khel's face. "It's an oligarch's yacht. The Legion has no presence in Elaneth... except the Avatar's fun little experiments, of course." He took a mock-bow.

"Of course." Will added.

"No presence here?" Anaia asked with a stare. "Should make things simple."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." Khel muttered, looking away.

"What in the blazes are you doing, Darkwood?" A furious voice called out behind before Khel could respond.

Will turned, alarmed. It was the captain.

Tiberian emerged from the enclave at the far end of the deck, flanked by officers and crew. They held rags to their mouths and noses, immediately going to work at their stations.

Behind were Julian, Grace, and Aria. They stumbled with every step, as though it were a struggle just to manage the stairs to the deck.

Alfie emerged a few moments later, bounding up the stairs behind the group as fast as his little legs would carry him.

"You were supposed to wake these people up." The captain's voice boomed. Even from fifty yards away, he sounded like he was standing right in front of Will. "Do you know how long I've had to wander the halls, banging on doors?"

Tiberian marched toward the four of them at the bow.

"What the hell are you four doing anyway? Sightseeing?" He shouted.

"We were just..." Will began.

"No, you know what? I don't care. You had a job to do, and you let me down."

Tiberian turned to the mast, then hit the comms button.

"Commercial District. Best possible speed."

"I don't know what got into me." Will said to the captain, looking down.

"I don't want to hear about it." Tiberian spouted off. "A quarter of the crew is still asleep, and we can't rouse them."

"A quarter?" Khel said, eyebrows raised as though impressed. "That's... not so bad, really—for newcomers."

The captain shot him an irate look.

"What?" Khel asked defensively. "Don't give me that. Not everyone makes it to the capital. You had to know that going in."

He shot Tiberian a knowing glance.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Will asked, alarmed. "What's going to happen to them?"

"Hard to say." Khel replied. "Some might take months, maybe years to wake up. Some of them are... gone. Did no one explain this to you?"

Khel squinted suspiciously at Tiberian.

"No." Will replied softly, glaring at the captain. A creeping dread began to grow in his chest. "Where's Evelyn?"

"Will..." The captain replied tentatively.

Will's head dropped. Even in the unnatural placidity of this place, a pang of remorse gripped him. The tranquility in his mind and the quiet rhythm of the waves made it all so much worse.

"What are their chances?" Will asked quietly.

His eyes wandered to the waterway. It teemed with movement. Small pleasure craft filled the water, sails glistening in the golden light of the evening dawn. But none of them spoke. The silence was oppressive.

A breeze swept the deck.

"No one can say, Will." Khel said grimly. "There's no telling in advance who'll make it to Elaneth. What's done is done. We move on." His voice betrayed not the slightest hint of remorse.

"Are you... used to this?" Will asked, looking into Khel's eyes. "A trail of bodies behind? Families torn apart? Fathers separated from daughters? Do you feel nothing?"

"Don't answer that." Anaia grumbled.

"I can't imagine being you."

Will broke eye contact and brought his gaze back to the water. He wished like nothing else just to go back to the simple world of a few weeks ago.

The peace in this air grew increasingly eerie. No one on the other ships said a word. Even as they came within feet of colliding, only the quiet, rhythmic sound of water on the hulls occasionally reached their perch on the Dawn's bow.

Tree branches soared into the air right alongside the great domes of the city itself—some hundreds of feet up. At this angle, the vast spires behind them were hard to make out. Only their very tips were visible so high in the distance behind—great golden scimitars slicing the sky.

The Eventide lent everything a different feel. Elaneth dripped in the sweet impression of dawn—of those first moments of the freshest days, when dew still clings to the windows and anything seems possible. Will couldn't tell what part of this unnatural beauty he was experiencing came from the inebriating quality of the haze.

"Hello?" Khel stepped in front of Will. "Still with us?"

Will snapped back to the present.

"What?" His voice carried more bitterness than he would have preferred.

"Thought we'd lost you." Khel said with a stare.

"What's going to happen to these people?" Will asked softly, looking off to the hundreds of boats and ships circling in the misty fog. "To this place? If we succeed, I mean?"

Everyone stared.

The harbor's opposite edge was growing close. Seaside markets lined it, beneath the trees—complete with all manner of booths and stalls. Crowds drifted in all directions. Thousands milled about the docks, moving with an even, melodic cadence.

"We've come here to end this... to destroy this way of life." He said solemnly. "How are we different from our enemy?"

Anaia paused for a moment, looking off the deck. For a moment, Will thought he saw the same disquiet in her eyes that he was feeling.

"I don't have the answers, Will." She said gravely. "But look around you. This is going to happen to our people if we turn back. That has to be enough."

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# Chapter 79 - Canvas of Imagination

It took the crew nearly an hour to tie the ship to the dock—much to the captain's chagrin.

Every knot the sailors had known like the backs of their hands had slipped their minds. Every time someone managed the first stage of tying something off, the line slipped away.

More than once, the sails loosed straight off the masts, hanging from the ship.

The great ropes meant to hold the August Dawn to the deck dangled helplessly into the water from their attachments on the hull.

Tiberian lacked the temerity to even joke with his men about their repeated failures. He just stood at the side of the hull, watching them feebly fail at something they had all learned to do in their teenage years and kept doing every day since then. Alfie stood to the side of the dock, confusedly staring at the group of sailors trying valiantly to tie a simple knot.

Tiberian personally tried and failed several times to tie the ship down. It was only once several officers and crew tied the knots together that they finally found success.

Will, Khel, Anaia, Aladrian, Aria, Julian, and Grace all left with little fanfare. A perfect hush had taken the deck. Whether it was muted shame or softened dread at what was coming, Will couldn't be sure. But none of the sailors so much as said goodbye. Only Alfie had something to say about their departure. When it became clear Khel was leaving the ship, he laid down on the deck to Tiberian's side, whimpering quietly and watching him go. No one had the courage to look back.

The seaside markets were spectacular. Domes rose opposite the harbor, supported by columns of gold, white, and crimson. Blood-red banners with golden scimitar insignias flapped gently in the breeze. Every few dozen feet, streetlights of a sort were suspended, with spiraling amber energy hovering in the air. The space bathed in a tenuous warm glow.

Hundreds milled about through the streets, moving between the domed buildings and notably permanent-looking stone market stalls that had been set up at the waterfront.

Yet despite the crowds, this place had a silent, refined air. Will heard no conversation. It felt more like a tranquil walkway than an outdoor market. The quiet breeze was the predominant sound, and the air carried with it both the sweet smell of the sea and the omnipresent cloying sensation of the Eventide mists.

None of the vendors seemed particularly interested in selling anything.

There were more items in the stalls than any of them might ever sell. There was a little bit of everything here—from fresh fruits and pastries, to artwork of various sorts, to magical products identical to those Julian and Grace had bought in Tal'vén.

The vendors paid little attention to either their wares or to their lack of customers. Instead, their attentions drifted to the dewy amber fog above. Faint smiles appeared on their faces—looks of detached, dreamy unconcern. There were few patrons. Will got the sense that the market stalls were more for show than anything else.

Will approached one of the nearest stalls, which held a vendor about his age selling all manner of magical eccentricities. Out of curiosity more than anything else, he picked up a glass sphere, about the size of a small Christmas tree ornament.

"What's this?" He asked the vendor, picking it up.

The man behind the counter was leaning back in his comfortable chair with his legs crossed up above the counter.

It was not immediately clear whether he couldn't hear Will, or just didn't care. He kept staring blankly at the space behind, as though enraptured by the sight of the fog behind his head. To Will's astonishment, the sphere in his hand unfolded, becoming a flat sheet of transparent glass—about the size of a small piece of paper—and then hovering in front of him.

"It's a Courier." Khel said softly. "You put a folded letter or a small object inside, state a recipient, and this flies away to find that person—no matter where he or she might be."

Will nodded, impressed.

"How much?" He asked.

The man behind the counter smiled vaguely.

Khel chuckled to himself.

"What's funny?" Will asked.

"There's no money here." Khel responded in a low tone. "Everything comes from the same place."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Will asked, confused. "How do they stay in business?"

"They're not in business." Khel replied simply. "They do this because it's what they've always done. It's what their ancestors did before the Eventide. It's their calling. No one questions it. He doesn't know why he's here. Not really."

Will shook his head. "So, what... customers just take the goods?"

"Same way the vendors take the goods from the Avatar's storehouses."

Khel picked up the Courier and handed it to Will.

The vendor paid them no mind. If he could see them, he didn't show it. The longer they spent in this eerie, ethereal market, the more Will realized no one seemed to notice them.

Will shivered, despite the calming effect of the fog.

Will couldn't help but feel a little vulgar here. Everyone moved with a grace, an otherworldly elegance—the patrons, the merchants, even the street performers. Unlike so many of the streetside bazaars they had encountered in the past, the Elaneth Commercial District was quiet. Demure. Its denizens spoke in hushed whispers, when they spoke at all.

Music took to the air. Beneath the dewy dawnlight fog that clung to the trees, keeping the late afternoon feeling like a young morning, the melody seemed to stem from everywhere. Flutes, harps, cellos, even high-pitched alto choral numbers—it all came together in a breathtaking symphony of light and color and sound.

"Look." Grace said to Julian, keeping her voice hushed—as though to raise it to a normal volume would risk bringing attention to them. "The instruments... they're playing themselves."

There were some musicians, to the outside of the markets. But, sure enough, most of these surrounded themselves with extra instruments. These played on their own—harps plucking away, cellos with bows hovering in the air, flutes moving around as though accompanied by invisible players. The musicians locked in concentration, shooting odd glances to each side.

In the center of the dockside market was a space set aside for dancing. Beneath a crimson maple and a purple jacaranda, couples swayed gently in silent harmony. In the quiet melody of the slow music, dancers found a home in one another's arms.

The women in the crowd wore flowing gowns, the men robes. Everyone matched the colors of the city—crimson and gold, with the occasional white trim. Flowing, shoulder-length hair was the norm, for both the men and the women. There was little variation to be found—no standouts. The uniformity made Will uncomfortable.

"How are they not staring?" Julian asked. "We look so different."

Somehow, the group passed through the market as though they belonged. With their mixed outfits of white, tan, and black, they looked about as out-of-place as possible.

"What's this?" Aria pulled the group to the side behind a growing crowd.

Just as the market became a wide road into the city, artists of a sort honed their trade.

Light and color poured from their fingers. Glowing tendrils of energy coalesced to form perfect three-dimensional images. Their craft seemed akin to a cross between painting and performance art. Crowds gathered to watch perfectly realistic landscapes move through the air. Outlines coalesced and moved through the space before their casters.

Deserts, forests, mountains, oceans, phenomenal skylines of glass—nothing seemed beyond their purview. Will wasn't sure if any of it was real—if any of the places being shown corresponded to places someone might ever visit. But it certainly entertained the crowds.

"Sad." Khel muttered as the group passed, watching the enraptured crowd.

"What?" Will asked.

"Those images... they're only imagination." Khel responded bitterly. "Anything those spinners dream up, they show those people. But do they know that?" He scoffed, gesturing to the crowds. "They think it's the outside world. How would they ever know different?"

"They never leave?" Aria asked, eyebrows raised.

Khel's dark chuckle echoed across the buildings in both directions.

The group walked past the final reaches of the market, down a long promenade. It led down into the foggy unknown, where incomprehensibly immense spires began to dominate the cityscape, looming over uncountable domes below.

Their path grew less travelled. Only occasionally did anyone pass in the street. Like those behind, they seemed content to smile at the newcomers to their city—despite the fact that everyone in their group was dressed about as conspicuously as possible.

What impressed and frightened Will most about the people they had encountered was the looks on their faces. Despite the superficial happiness—even bliss—they displayed, a sharp dullness lingered behind every eye. None of these people seemed concerned with their surroundings. Their passions were gone. To the extent they showed interest in anything, it was directed to the most immediate outlets, and nothing more.

"Does the Avatar still cast this fog? This Eventide?" Will asked, looking to the passers-by and keeping his voice low out of reflex.

"There you go again." Anaia said, shaking her head.

"What?" Will asked defensively.

"You're wondering what's going to happen when he's gone." She said, her tone turning accusatory.

"I'm..."

"Don't even bother trying to deny it."

Anaia sighed.

"Are you not thinking about it at all?" Will asked. "Look around you. Look at these people. Can you imagine what would happen to them if this fog lifted, all at once?"

"Will, I admire your heart. It's in the right place."

"But..." Will recited the word he knew was coming.

"But we're here to stop our people from looking like this, too."

"And, what?" Will asked. "You think I've forgotten?"

"Apparently." Anaia asked, cocking her head to the side. "We have bigger problems. The Avatar kidnapped Lewis precisely to get you to think the thoughts you're thinking."

"It's immediately apparent to anyone within a hundred-yard radius that you're a naive clod." Khel pitched in.

"Trying to save fifty million is naive?" Will's voice was raising. "I suppose that makes sense to you?"

"William, this is war." Khel admitted in a low, raspy voice. "These people are your enemy. It's that simple."

"So, yes, I suppose, is your answer." Will responded. "Just let them die."

"If it comes to it." Khel said. "Get used to the idea."

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# Chapter 80 - An Ominous Design

"Aren't you all a little ahead of yourselves?" Aria asked with a grin.

Everyone stopped.

"Will, what's your plan?" She confronted Will with a stare. "You're whining about what's going to happen when the Avatar's gone. But... he's not gone. And we're here. So what are we doing? Where are we even going?"

Everyone stared now.

"Girl's got a point." Khel said quietly.

"It's this fog." Julian shook his head. "I can't even think straight."

"There's a plan." Will announced confidently under his breath.

"So you keep saying." Khel shook his head with a subtle grin.

"We're going to walk in the front door."

"Hah!" Khel exploded with laughter.

He turned away only to direct his glee in the other direction. Everyone stared. Only after ten seconds or so had passed did he face Will again.

"Did your Sovereign wake up on the wrong side of the bed one day, or what?" Khel was laughing so hard he could barely speak. "Where did she even dig you up?"

He turned away, laughing until tears appeared in his eyes.

"Okay, where is he keeping Lewis?" Will asked, glaring at Khel.

"I thought we were going with the front door?"

"Where?"

"What in all our dealings together has ever led you to believe I might know the answer to that question?" Khel hissed.

"Right hand of the Avatar?" Will mocked.

"Who said that?" Khel scoffed. "Wylan?"

"Elara."

"Neither of those Vensi fools know a damned thing about what goes on here."

"And you do?" Will responded. "That's my point."

Khel gave a pained sigh.

"There are two possibilities." Khel muttered under his breath, tone barely audible. "The pinnacle, or the labyrinth."

"Where's the Avatar?" Will asked.

"The pinnacle." Khel responded, as though the answer were obvious. "The top of that damned palace. He's always there. Don't ask me why. Has a thing for heights. Ostentation."

"So I go for the second option, then." Will said. "If Lewis is there, I get in and get out.

"Oh, this ought to be good." Khel grumbled.

"If not, I'll draw the Avatar out and nab Lewis."

"Oh you will, will you? You don't have a plan for getting rid of him at all, do you?" Khel shot Will a sly grin. Will thought he detected a hint of concern. "You made that up. You came this whole way just for your friend."

Will glared.

"I told you I do. We need to get Lewis out first."

"There a reason you're not sharing this grand plan of yours?" Khel's voice was sober.

Anaia cleared her throat uncomfortably.

"Let's just say... I picked up a bit of light reading on the subject."

Will paused.

"Oh my God." Aria groaned. "You did not just say that."

"Yes, yes... I see now. How to Dispatch Ancient Magical Deities for Yokels. I must have missed that one at the bookstore." Khel gloated.

"And what if we run into somebody in there?" Anaia pressed. "In your labyrinth?"

Khel buried his face in his palms, chuckling to himself. "You people are so in for it."

"What?" She asked.

"There is no one else." Khel replied darkly, raising his voice. It bounced off of nearby buildings. "No one goes in there. No one. Do you get it? Am getting through to you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Julian asked.

"Do I stutter?" Khel asked, looking slowly from Anaia to Julian.

"You mean he's the only one... in the whole place?" Anaia asked.

"That's exactly what I mean. How is this difficult?"

"In the whole palace... the whole spire, there's only the one person?" Will pressed.

"Well, he doesn't use guards." Khel responded dryly, as though the answer were obvious. "No one's stupid or crazy enough to try anything like you're suggesting."

"Perfect." Anaia had a devious gleam in her eye. "Now how do we get in?"

Khel shook his head at her cocky remark. "There's one way—in, or out. And he sees it, always. Don't ask me how. An Eventide wall blocks it, day or night—thick enough to kill on contact." His voice was dark and dismal. "He invites you in, or you die. We don't go that way."

"So I Blink." Will said.

"We could Blink, sure." Khel corrected. His eyes flared.

"You're all staying out here, where it's safe." Will insisted.

"Hah!" Anaia laughed.

"Like hell." Khel grumbled. "It's called the labyrinth for a reason. You'd get lost in those passageways, sure as the sun'll set tonight. Before too long, you'd be asking my old master for directions."

"And if you think I'm about to abandon my post here, in this place... well, you're madder than I thought." Anaia added.

"Not leaving me behind." Aladrian protested with finality. "I came here to help, and that's what I'm going to do."

"He killed my parents." Aria seethed. "Try to make me wait outside. See what happens."

Will backed away involuntarily.

"Well, we've come this far." Julian looked to Grace. She shrugged, wrapping her arm around him with a smile.

"What is it with Valis and the self-preservation instinct?" Khel shook his head. "What happened to you people?"

Will glared. "Where are we going?"

Khel led the group to the opposite side of the road. Not three miles ahead was the tallest spire in the city. There could hardly be two of these.

"Adamantia." Khel pointed.

The spire stretched endlessly into the sky, piercing the waves of amber fog like part of the landscape. Dual curved golden blades, each some thousand feet long, shot to the very top of the central structure from its midsection. At its very peak, where the two scimitar-like projections met, a great light burst from the core of the structure, visible from anywhere in the city.

"Yeah." Aria grumbled. "This is going to end well."

What had at first looked like a single tower was a series of several dozen nearer the base, each rising into the next. There was to be no doubt for anyone living in or approaching this city where the seat of power was here. It dominated the skyline, visible from almost anywhere.

"How did we not see that before?" Grace asked, speaking to herself more than anyone in particular.

"Because he's taken us on a path to avoid seeing it." Julian muttered, looking back and shooting Khel a sideways glance.

Khel shrugged with a grin.

"I can imagine why." Grace murmured. "It's beautiful, but... there's no spell that could keep me from being scared of that."

"Actually..." Aladrian started.

"Stop." Grace cut him off. "I don't want to know."

"There's only one person, inside... that?" Aria looked at Khel skeptically.

"Wouldn't call him a person." Khel replied. "Now, William. Do you see that outcropping, just shy of where the blades shoot off from the tower?" Khel asked Will, voice soft and grim. "That's your target. Just inside there. Think you can get us up there?"

Will would never admit it, but he didn't like the look of this. The place Khel was pointing to was miniscule, and far. Then there was the matter of getting everyone to the other side of the stone wall.

All the same, Will gave Khel a funny look—as though he were underestimating him.

He got the sense Khel wasn't buying it.

"Well?" Will asked. "We ready?"

"Of course not." Aria grumbled.

Will sighed. "Touch the shoulder of the person next to you."

After a final few anxious glances, everyone did as Will asked. There came a terrific flash of light, and they were gone.

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# Chapter 81 - Palace in the Sky

"What have you done?"

Khel glared at Will with a panicked intensity.

Will looked around in confusion. Everyone was here. He had focused on exactly the point that Khel had pointed out.

"What?" Will asked in a hushed whisper.

"Every single time anyone relies on you to do anything, you fail catastrophically. It simply cannot be helped, can it?"

"What?" Will repeated.

"Does this look like a labyrinth to you?" Khel's eyes bored into Will like drills.

They found themselves on a great, elongated platform at the top of the spire. A crimson carpet divided the room. To each side, flames hovered in mid-air, burning incessantly without fuel.

"I went exactly where you told me to go." Will said, looking over to Khel.

Khel did not return his gaze.

Somehow, though the spire was stone, they had a perfect view to the outside of the city. The ceiling and far walls vaulted upwards all around. But they remained transparent, allowing for an unimpeded vista of the entire skyline—which by now was entirely below.

Bright dawn-tinged sunlight filled the interior. They could see everything from here—from the glimmering crimson and gold of the neighboring spires, to the sea of golden domes below, to the cool, deep blue of the harbor in the distance—broken only by an occasional mast on the horizon. The moons were beginning to emerge from far-off cliffs, bringing a purplish hue to the unnatural golden amber of the fading day.

Even as day turned to evening, it all retained the feel of the freshest sunrise. The Eventide kept a morning dew hovering about the city, moving across the ground like a blanket. It skewed the sun's color to an unnatural, rosy coral.

"Oh, no..." Anaia said, looking up.

At the very end of the room past a series of stairs was a grand throne of red and gold.

Sitting with one leg crossed cavalierly over the other was a familiar figure.

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# Chapter 82 - The Atrium

Silas smiled ever-so-slightly. The expression did not reach his eyes.

He wore a long, black coat. A bit like Khel's. He, too, was tall—perhaps two inches over six feet. But otherwise, Silas' appearance could not have been more different from their companion's—at least on the surface. He looked like the epitome of civilization. Under the coat was a button-down white shirt, open at the top. His blonde hair was parted neatly at the side.

Beneath the veneer was something more. It was the eyes. Meeting that gaze made Will want to turn back, to leave this room. It was too late for that.

The empty smile broadened as Will and his companions paused in quiet horror at the far end of the room.

"Welcome."

Silas' tone bore a stoic gentility. It carried throughout the structure.

"Glad you were able to make it."

"Where is he?" Will asked.

"Your friend is here." Silas replied simply. His arm extended to the side.

A patch of amber fog thinned from the right half of the room, just off the carpet.

A banquet table appeared—one that, until now, had been concealed by the clouds. It was elegant and well-appointed. A feast covered it. Everything was here—from gourmet breads, to sliced meats and poultry of a dozen sorts, to caramelized sweet potatoes and fruit plates, to assorted pies, cakes, and chocolates. No effort had been spared.

Only one person was seated there.

Lewis leaned back in his chair at the far head of the table, resting his head on the headboard with a lost smile. His eyes carried indifference, detachment, bliss. He looked like any number of the street vendors they had encountered on their way in.

Every part of Will wanted to rush over to Lewis in that moment. But he didn't dare take his eyes off of their host.

"What have you done with him?" Will's voice was failing him.

"It's as I said." Silas said slowly. "He is comfortable here."

"Let him go."

Silas stared for a moment or two, as if puzzled.

"As you wish." Silas said calmly.

Without moving his arm from resting on the arm of the chair, he directed his forearm toward Lewis, moving his fingers slightly.

"Lewis." He laughed quietly to himself. "You are free to go."

Lewis' eyes were open, but unseeing.

"Lewis." Will managed an urgent whisper.

Lewis stared blankly at the far wall.

"Quite comfortable." Silas smiled.

Silas' attention shifted to Will's side.

"Khel." Silas' voice turned to a cold monotone in an instant. "Come."

Khel silently walked out from behind Will. He turned, looking back to Will and his friends with a grave expression.

"Khel." Will pleaded. "What are you doing?" He shot him a questioning look, as if to ask if this was part of some hidden plan.

"What does it look like he's doing?" Anaia asked bitterly under her breath.

Khel broke eye contact. He stood at Silas' side, hands behind his back, looking forward blankly—the same emptiness creeping across his face as appeared on Lewis'.

#

# 

# Chapter 83 - Beyond

Silas' eyes locked onto Will. He smiled. Again, it didn't reach his eyes.

"Why?" Will asked coldly, staring at Lewis' blank expression. He briefly looked up to Khel, who still avoided eye contact. "Why have you brought me here?"

"Why?" Silas repeated gradually. "What a question."

He paused for a moment.

"Not yet." Silas smiled playfully. "Come. Have a bite to eat."

The Avatar turned, gesturing to a table in front. With a flash of light, it filled with a grand feast. Will thought about resisting for a moment, of standing his ground.

The thought escaped him. He walked forward towards the dais, keenly aware of each echo on the distant walls and towering ceiling—and of the eyes of his friends fixed on him.

"What is he doing?" Julian asked in a hushed whisper.

"Will..." Anaia called out behind. "Think before you act."

Her voice seemed muted, as though coming from far away.

Will sat down opposite Silas, who grabbed up an apple from a fruit plate from the table and took a quick bite. The sound echoed through the halls.

"So... back to the question of the day. Why?" Silas asked with a smile. "Let's ask you. Why do you think I've brought you here?"

Will was silent.

"Give me something to work with here." Silas added. "You think you know the answer. Don't be shy."

"I really don't." Will said in a quiet and sincere voice, taking pains to steady the shaking in his tone. "I don't know why you kidnapped my friend. I don't know what you want from me."

"You have an idea." Silas replied, a hint of anticipation appearing on his lips. "A suspicion. You've spent your life pondering the question. Who are you, Will Darkwood?"

Will shot him a strange look.

"I know what you're thinking." Silas continued in a lighthearted tone, taking another bite of the apple. It was already half-gone. "You can't hide anything from me."

"Are you..." Will began.

"Your father?" Silas chuckled with soft satisfaction.

A mischievous grin filled Silas' face. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs on the table and barely missing a main course.

"Nope." He said slowly, mid-chew.

"Did you know them?" Will asked, finally finding his voice. "My parents?"

Silas stared at Will. The seconds ticked by, and his smile was broader than ever.

Just when the silence was becoming too much to bear, Silas carelessly tossed the half-eaten fruit across the table. It collided with several courses before coming to a rest some half-dozen feet away.

"Where are they?" Will's tone had turned to a low growl, without any intention on his part. "What have you done with them?"

"What have I done with them?" Silas squinted, returning his gaze and raising his voice. "What makes you think I've done anything with them?" Silas leaned back, eyes wide. He looked genuinely curious.

"What do you think?" Will seethed at the non-answer. He couldn't stop his voice from shaking. "Look around you. Look at what you've done to the people here. To my best friend. To the people in Valis. Life means nothing to you."

"My friend..." Silas started. His voice dropped to something like empathy. "You couldn't be more wrong."

"Well?" Will asked after a moment of silence.

"How old are you?" Silas asked slowly.

"Twenty-eight." Will responded.

"I am three thousand one hundred seventy-two years old." Silas replied, voice turning soft. "My birthday is next month. After a while, I'm afraid you stop celebrating."

"What does age have to do with anything?" Will pressed.

"Perspective." Silas whispered with intensity, staring Will in the eyes. "I've seen it all. The rise and fall of civilizations. The apogees of love, kindness, and devotion. The depths of cruelty and spite. Believe me when I tell you that our kind needs stewardship."

"Stewardship?" Will asked, incredulous. "That's what you call... this?"

He looked out to the window, gesturing to the amber fog hovering over the city.

"Every time people have been allowed to govern themselves, the result is the same." Silas replied. "Chaos. Rapid development, death. On a grand scale. Without a guiding hand, we destroy ourselves—and, incidentally, any world we happen to be on."

"What?" Will asked, confused.

"You would understand." Silas replied simply. "If you had been there, at the end of Earth... trust me, you would understand."

"The end of what?" Will asked.

"Earth." Silas said, sorrow across his face. "Your Old World... it wasn't always old. The failed experiment of freedom extinguished it. People are too aggressive, too ambitious, too shortsighted to be trusted with their own wellbeing. We mustn't make that mistake again."

"And you think yours is a better way? Executing people by thirst in tombs? Conquering the helpless with a Legion of fanatics?" Will's voice was unconsciously rising.

"A temporary and unfortunate necessity, until I perfect the Eventide for global effect." Silas protested. "I'm close, now. A hundred years, at most. We will accomplish great things, William. The means are inconsequential."

"We?" Will unconsciously whispered.

"Now... right now... in the rest of Aru for the cost of one life in a thousand, we've put an end to crime. No theft. No rape. No murder. Valis should welcome the Legion. Your resistance is myopic and destructive."

Will shook his head.

"You're insane."

"A century from now, I'll be able to provide for the whole continent. A continent of tranquility. No more worrying, fighting, working... Everything will be set. You'll see."

"How did you get like this?" Will asked, inadvertently under his breath. His voice had failed him. "What happened to you?"

Silas' expression changed in an instant. Gone was any hint of the smile he'd worn before. Gone was the soft kindness from a moment ago. His eyes were a different shade now, reflecting detachment and severity.

"You're proving my point, you know." His voice was a different color now, too. Dark and grating, it was all business.

He looked down at the floor in front of Will, as though he were ashamed of what he was about to do.

"Autonomy means mistakes. This is an opportunity Valis haven't seen in thirty centuries. I'm not about to squander it on account of one young man's intransigence."

He looked up, meeting Will's eyes.

"No. You'll join me." Silas said quietly. "The Stones can't be destroyed. I can't wear two of them, and I certainly can't have another unbound Arcstone sitting around. It's destabilizing." He raised his hand. "One way, or another, you'll do what's right."

A burst of adrenaline shot through Will's veins. With the unnatural serenity afforded by the gem, he found he had the quickness he needed—only just. Just as he'd hoped, Silas had underestimated him.

Will raised his own hand. The spell was excruciatingly difficult, but he'd had plenty of time to practice. And the instructions in the journal from Elle's private case were precise. Just as it had a hundred times before without a soul on the Dawn even taking note, everything around Will suspended in place, hanging in the air as if frozen.

The world was frozen into place. Will had paused reality. Time had come to a stop.

"I hoped it wouldn't come to this." Will said quietly, staring into the blank, ancient eyes. "But there's nothing... human left."

And yet, Will hesitated before casting the spell that might have killed the Avatar. Silas was helpless in those moments. It could have been anything. A quick bout of telekinesis. Fire. Anything. But it wasn't. He couldn't kill.

It all happened so fast.

A wave of agony erupted behind Will's right eye, like an ice pick had ripped through his skull. Will collapsed into the ground, writhing in agony. A wave of force erupted in all directions, and Silas ripped free.

"Not bad... Not bad at all."

Silas' booming voice echoed through the vaulted ceilings above. Will heard relief there—admiration, even elation. A broad smile flashed across his lips.

"You came close." Silas continued in a calmer tone. "Closer than I ever thought to expect. But the struggle is pointless, really. Elle Stevenson, you are not."

Silas raised his hand again. The Eventide from across over the room coalesced on Will's crumpled body.

Feelings of overwhelming joy flooded Will, despite the incongruity of circumstance. All genuine emotion was choked out. His mind was no longer his own. He tried to move. He tried to keep his eyes open. He could do nothing. He was helpless, writhing in bliss on the cold stone floor.

"No. You can have your humanity. I've seen what it's capable of. There is a better way. As you'll soon see." Silas' voice had fallen back to its impenetrable facade of gentile superiority. It was quieter now, though. "My wife knew the counterspell for this like the back of her hand. And because Elle knew it, you know it too. Somewhere, deep down within you, the answer is there."

An empty pause took the air as the Avatar's voice echoed endlessly through the halls.

"But there's a hitch." Silas added with a quiet, self-satisfied laugh. "In the time it takes the gem to provide you with the answer, you will no longer want it. See? Where's the harm in that?"

Will heard sounds call out behind, like thunder. They echoed through the tower, though they were muted—as though coming from underwater.

"Your friends showed real bravery, coming here with you." Silas said. His voice was soft, though Will could hear it so clearly. It was as though he was leaning forward, speaking in whispers from inches away. "I look forward to getting to know them. They'll be valuable assets, in time. Like you."

Then, just as the cloying pressure on Will's mind was becoming overbearing, a faint sound called out through the hall. It sounded like whitewater tumbling over a fall. It lasted for a second or two, then echoed through the recesses of the structure above.

It was a sound Will had heard before. The pressure on his mind vanished. He opened his eyes, gasping for air.

Silas was facing the other way.

Khel stood on the dais opposite, just behind. A tiny golden ring was on his right ring finger.

Will looked down at his hands. His own ring was missing.

A spherical doorway in space now hovered in the air above the center of the dais. Sunlight shone through it—clear, blue-tinged, and overwhelming. In the dim amber light of the atrium, it was piercing—reflecting off of every surface.

"Khel, what are you...?" Silas began, turning to see the source of the blinding light. His face showed no anger—just genuine confusion.

"My part." Khel replied tersely.

Elle stepped through the portal into the room.

#

# 

# Chapter 84 - Shadows and Dust

Elle's pale-white robe rippled with the wind translated from the doorway in time.

With poise and grace, she stepped forward and waved her arm. The portal behind closed, vanishing with a hiss.

Silas smiled gently.

"This is different." He sounded sincere.

"There's a lot about... this I never imagined." Elle replied, quietly studying those eyes, then looking down at the Eventide-tinged capital below.

"What happened to us, Elle?" He said, voice again falling to a tranquil sincerity.

"I did this." Elle's voice cracked. "To you. To all these people."

She shook her head, a tear appearing in her eye.

"I'm so sorry."

"And how is that?" Silas asked. He struck Will almost like a different person. Empathy was in those eyes now. Tenderness. Affection. Even something like love.

"I gave you what you wanted." She said quietly. "I gave us forever."

He shot her a pleading look.

"We would see everything together. Always. Hand in hand. We would share it all." Elle paused. "Well, it didn't work out like that, did it?"

"Because you just didn't get it." Silas exploded. "You still don't. You were always good at the details. But the big picture?" He scoffed. "Another few thousand years, and Valis will be another Earth. Your bigger cities are already redeveloping technology."

"I've killed you slowly." She said quietly. "It's so much worse, to see you like this. We could have died with dignity so many times by now."

"But we're still here!" Silas exploded. Then his voice softened. "That's the beauty of it. You don't even have to go back. We're in the future now. After your death. All bets are off. Who knows how long you stay?"

She just shook her head, slowly.

"Come back to me." He pleaded. "We could put things right, together. The way we always should have."

She steeled herself.

"I've put this off for far too long." Her voice carried sorrow and regret.

"You can't interfere." Silas said. "I won't let you. Someone has to do this. Someone has to save these people from themselves."

The two stared at each other for a few moments.

"Our time has long since come and gone." Elle said gently. "It ends tonight. All of it."

"I see." Silas said. Just as it had with Will, his voice took on a staccato severity.

The first move was his. It happened so fast Will missed it.

A terrific, constant crack echoed throughout the spire. A kaleidoscopic beam of heat and light tore outward from Silas' hands towards Elle. Shockwaves rippled outwards.

Intense heat seared Will's skin. He cried out in pain, bolting away just in time to watch everything on the table incinerate before his eyes.

Elle calmly threw up her arm, sending forward a beam of her own.

The spells impacted with a blinding flash. The tower quivered. The air in between them contracted, lensing continuously—as though a magnifying glass of ever-changing shape kept the spells apart.

Bolts of energy flew out in every direction, unleashing devastation throughout the room. They connected with the floor and walls, crushing hard white stone like glass. Shattered rock shot upward, ricocheting off nearby walls and barely missing Will. Shrapnel accelerated behind, straight for Will's companions. But Anaia was at the front of the group, ready for it. With a wave of her hand, it deflected harmlessly.

Silas broke off his beam, scattering it with a brief barrier of white light. A second later, he filled the dais with a swirling storm of flame. It covered the entire platform—stopping just short of the banquet tables where Lewis sat. Lewis rested in a blissful haze—oblivious to the unfolding chaos.

A churning tempest of fire erupted into the air. The flames reached hundreds of feet up, to the spire's pointed ceiling.

Elle was ready for this. Just moments later, another maelstrom appeared in the air—swirling water soaring upward into the flames. It blocked the fire, then expanded to extinguish it altogether with a loud hiss and a pillar of steam.

Silas raised his arms, self-satisfied smirk across his face.

A terrible tremble took the tower all around them. The walls tore themselves apart with a ferocity. Cracks appeared all across the tower. The false image of the outside being projected on them flickered and then vanished.

The stone spire above—which stretched some seven hundred feet straight up from where they stood—came crumbling down towards the platform. Will doubted the structure of the tower beneath would survive the mass of all that falling stone and metal.

Elle threw up her arm.

All those thousands of tons of stone brick and metal turned to harmless dust in the air, disappearing with the wind.

The platform was now the top of the spire. Nothing protected them from the elements. At this height, the gales were punishing. A constant hurricane-force wind tore at them from the direction of the harbor. Anything that wasn't tied down flew off—plates, glasses, tables, chairs, ornaments.

Elle stopped for a moment, shooting Silas a tender look—as though to ask whether he wanted to stop.

He took advantage of the pause.

"I will miss you, Elle." Silas' voice adopted a caustic bite.

A second sun burned through the gales towards her, incinerating everything in its path.

Elle flicked her hand upward, sending it soaring upward, to where the spire had been. The orb detonated, filling the sky with flame across the horizon. Fire roared down, enveloping the tower and threatening to engulf them.

Elle shielded everyone with a brief barrier of blinding white light.

Elle and Silas locked eyes. Will saw fear in his eyes.

"I've missed the man you used to be for a long while." Elle replied, voice soft and kind.

She stepped forward and raised her hand.

A wave of rippling energy shot forward towards him, turning everything between the two of them to dust. He defended himself just in time, sending out a similar spell. The waves met, throwing back a pulse of force.

Will was knocked off his feet.

Khel flew through the air, rolling to a stop not six feet off. The others were still a dozen feet behind. Anaia stood just in front, trying to shield them from the wind and shrapnel.

"Oww." Khel groaned melodramatically, looking up at Will with a thick grin. "You know, following you around is painful business. Beginning to see why Anaia doubted my sincerity."

With a quiet smirk, Will offered Khel his hand and pulled him to his feet.

"Never doubted you for a second." Will sounded less than credible.

"Right." Khel grinned widely. "At this rate, it might not matter anyway."

He gestured up to the dais.

Elle and Silas were locked in concentration.

Stone bricks loosed from the floor by the thousands, swirling amidst the two of them and then disintegrating when they passed between. Each pulse sent outward by the conflux destroyed more of the little that remained of the dais and the platform beneath. The tower shuddered more violently with each passing second.

Everything happened so fast.

In retrospect, Will wasn't sure what compelled him do it—or what let him know that this was the right time.

Khel still had Will's stolen ring on his finger. Without a second thought, Will grabbed at his hand and snatched it back.

Khel called out in surprise, taken off-guard.

Will slipped the ring back on and sprinted off towards Silas and Elle. Dealing with one another was taking up all of their energies. They were too distracted to even notice him.

With the ring, he threw down a portal across from Silas. He didn't know where, or when, might be on the other side—only that it was as far away from here as possible.

The sun shining through it was brighter than any Will had ever seen. Waves of pain erupted through his skull. Sweat poured from his temples. He nearly collapsed.

Through the pain, Will turned to hazard a glance at Lewis. His friend's eyes were vacant. Empty. That look would haunt him. This was what Silas wanted to bring to Valis. To Haven.

Will wondered how much of his best friend was still in there. What would Lewis remember of him? Of their friendship?

Will sprinted behind Silas, grabbed him by the coat, and pulled him into the doorway.

With a soft hiss, it vanished behind.

#

# 

# Epilogue - New Beginnings

The first thing Aria noticed was the wind. It died down straight away, fading to a gentle breeze. Gone were the brutal gales—the constant, grating noise in her ears.

Next, the daylight began to change along with the mists. The colors of dawn—the ones that reminded Aria of the mornings she and her mother shared by the orchards at the Northern Sea—were beginning to fade. Replacing them was the brisk lavender of twilight, the dark magenta palette of a dying day.

Grace took Julian's hand. He caught her eye. The two shared a quiet moment, walking together to the edge of the platform.

"Do you think we'll see them again?" Anaia asked Elle, looking at the spot where Will and Silas had just disappeared. Her voice sounded sad. For a moment Aria thought she saw Anaia's eyes glaze over.

Elle replied only with a soft smile. She briefly met Anaia's eyes, then stared at the place where the portal had been, as if unable to look away.

After a few seconds, Anaia broke the silence.

"Why did you give the Stone to Will?"

"I'm not sure I've made the decision even now." Elle managed a slight grin.

She breathed deeply, then looked over at Anaia.

"But I must have known Will would do what he did." Her voice was gentle and slow. "That sun, through the doorway... I've missed it. That was a one-way trip."

"So, you're saying..." Anaia started.

"I'm afraid so." Elle concluded. "For both of them."

"And you're not related to him?" She asked, curious. "Will, I mean? You don't know his parents?"

"It's choice that determines character. Not blood." Elle smiled. "Courage and resolve, finding heart in the right moment... that's what counts."

She looked over at their Arunite companion. "Rather like you, Khel."

Khel started at hearing his name. Then he waited, looking slowly over to Anaia.

"Wow." He said to Anaia after a moment. "No snide remark? No pithy putdown?"

"You've earned it." Anaia admitted with mock-bitterness. "For now."

She moved imperceptibly closer.

"It helps to have a good teacher." Khel looked to Elle with sincere respect.

"What will happen to all these people?" Aria was on the other side of the platform, looking down. She watched the amber Eventide dissipate from the city below, fading to nothingness as evening darkened. "And our friends on the Dawn. Evelyn. Will they wake up?"

At the mention of Evelyn's name, Lewis' eyes focused. He blinked, sitting up and bringing his palms to his face.

"I don't know." Khel replied with a newfound kindness. "They'll find their way, I suppose. They'll have to. We all will. But I'll be there for them." He looked to Anaia. She looked back. "We'll be there for them."

"Change is the only constant." Anaia said softly, as if remembering. Anaia and Khel moved closer together, staring into each other's eyes.

"What did you say?" Elle asked under her breath, staring at Anaia with eyes wide.

Anaia broke eye contact with Khel. Everyone in the room was staring at Elle now.

"It's time for me to leave." The Sovereign said suddenly.

A dreadful silence fell across the room. Everyone watched Elle pull a ring out of her pocket. It was identical to the one Will had just used. She slipped it on.

"Oh, come on. Where did you get that?" Khel asked, probably a bit louder than he intended. He gestured at the ring.

"I am a magician. Am I not?" Elle responded softly with a sly smile. "I am entitled to my secrets."

"Won't you stay?" Aria asked faintly. "At least for a little while?"

"This is not my time." Elle replied simply. "This is yours."

"But..." Aria began.

"You are a survivor, Aria." Elle said, looking to her companions around the room. "Look around you. Whatever lies ahead—whatever challenges you may face—you will not face them alone."

Elle reached down to the Stone. In a simple motion, she pulled it off her neck.

With a rush of wind and a gleam of hope in her eyes, she was gone.

#

# Acknowledgements

#

Thank you so much to my girlfriend Tara (IG: @spinatale), for her constant love, support, kindness, and patience. It means more than I can say.

Thank you to my mom and dad, who did more to make this book possible than I could ever describe.

Thank you to Greg and Karen, who put in so much time to help with reading through this and giving suggestions.

Thank you to Maria and Ba, for teaching me to believe in myself and follow my dreams.

Thank you to my best friend Tim, for sharing in many wild childhood adventures and just generally being the best friend anybody could have. The SW Mage Tower will never be the same.

Thank you to the bookstagram community for help with promo and support.

Thank you to Sully and Cady the rescue hounds. They are noble beasts.

Thank you to Lacey and Charli the maltese buggles (IG: @fullofmaltesemagic). Beware the pink-eye stinkeye.

Thank you to Abbie the magnificent pirate corgi. She eats many treats and moves rapidly towards food.

Thank you to Mysterious Galaxy Bookstore. This is the hub of the San Diego book community. It's fantastic. We've met many wonderful people here.

Thank you, for reading! Hope you enjoyed.

Love it? Hate it? It'd be great to hear from you.

A moment of your time on Amazon/Goodreads would mean the world to me.

# Think of Alfie...

