 
# Unknown

### Book 1

### The Elements Trilogy

### by Melissa Pearl

http://www.zealousdesign.co.nz

*****

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Melissa Pearl

http://www.melissapearlauthor.com

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.

*****

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

*****

Cover art (copyright) by Kelly Walker. All rights reserved.

http://indie-spired.com/

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

The Prophecy

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

The Elements Trilogy Characters and Places

Excerpt from Unseen (The Elements Trilogy - Book 2)

Acknowledgements

About Melissa Pearl

Connect with Melissa Pearl

Other books by Melissa Pearl

Author Recommendations

For my brother, Mark

Thanks for introducing me to the world of fantasy writing...and for always encouraging me to chase my dreams and turn them into realities.

I love you, bro.

The Prophecy

Do not be afraid. I have not abandoned you. A time will come when darkness can no longer rule. Look for a diamond glowing in the north, though it falls it will not fail, for from its ashes two seekers will arise. Through earth, water, wind and fire I will be found.

Even the smallest flame can shine in the black of night and the darkness cannot extinguish it. Even the smallest flame can ignite a fire that will burn with fury from one generation to the next.

It was once said that a light could shine in the darkness and the darkness could not overcome it, but then the light died and a darkness born of doubt and fear began to fester throughout the land, breeding an evil that no one invited. Years ago a prophecy was discovered that spoke of an end to this darkness...that the light would one day shine again, but no one believed it...except for Mordekai.

*****

Chapter 1

"Do not be afraid," Mordekai whispered as he shuffled down the narrow, stone staircase. His sandal-clad feet kept slipping on the worn surface of each step, forcing him to slow down.

How many times had he climbed up and down these stairs? Of all the nights, this was not the one to fall and break his neck. He drew in a breath through his wide nostrils and ordered his limbs to stop shaking.

"I have not abandoned you," he muttered the next line as he turned at the landing, scraping his wrinkled hand against the wall, trying to balance himself in the dim light. The candle in his hand flickered, threatening extinction. He paused. A slow grin spread across his lips as it fluttered back to life.

"A time will come when darkness can no longer rule."

He dared not say the words too loudly as he reached the bottom step and tried to run through the narrow streets. His ageing body allowed him no more than a shuffle, but this was probably to his advantage, especially passing so closely to the palace.

He glanced over his shoulder.

Being out this late could be dangerous; the city was at its most malignant at this time of night. All the sensible ones had locked their doors and retired to bed. That left the streets filled with drunkards, harlots, dirty men...or the city guards. He did not know whom to fear more.

Ducking into the shadows, he waited for the rhythmic steps of two guards to pass him. He listened to the clink of swords against armour as they strode past. As soon as the sound of their marching feet faded into the distance, he stepped back onto the street.

Mordekai headed west, taking the long route through the rabbit warren of streets. Streets that once made him feel alive and proud. As a child he would spend hours gazing up at the golden palace spires and marvelling at their grandeur. He would stand tall with pride as the rich men rode past on decorated horses. The bells on the reins would tinkle and the jewels upon the men's fingers would glisten in the sunlight.

But then his eyesight changed. He saw the truth, and now the mighty city of Mezrah only disgusted him. The only home he'd ever known was on the brink of self-destruction. So filled with greed and power, the men of Mezrah were blind to their ultimate demise.

"Do not be afraid," he repeated. "The time has come. It is now." His insides swelled with hope, and he had to force himself not to laugh as he shuffled faster to his little home on the western wall.

"Look for a diamond glowing in the north." He shook his head with a smile. He had been right. He knew he had been. All these years. All this waiting and he was alive to see it!

He all but leapt up the final few stairs, his body protesting as he landed with a jolt. He rubbed his hip and hobbled inside.

The fire had died down to mere embers, but he ignored it. He would not be staying long. There was work to be done. Plans to be made.

He stopped outside a wooden door and tapped.

"Nikara." The urge to yell was strong, but he quelled it. "Nikara, you must wake up."

He listened against the door and sensed a stirring. Breaking all his own house rules, he leaned on the door and felt it shift beneath his weight.

"Nikara?" Poking his head into the room, he saw the small lump in the bed and hurriedly approached his apprentice. "Nikara, my dear." He shook her shoulder.

She let out a soft groan and turned towards him. "Morning already?"

"No. No." He shook his head. "Sorry to wake you, but this is of the utmost importance."

Her wide, slanted eyes looked dry as she gazed at him. He knew she would never have the impudence to consciously show it, but he could sense her reticence.

"Please, child. You must see this."

Biting her rosebud lips together, she slid out from beneath the covers and took the candle he held out to her. Throwing a robe over her shoulders, Mordekai danced like an excited child as he beckoned her to follow.

Her steps were too sleepy and slow for his liking, and he found himself dragging her through the streets. She knew not to question him before she must and stayed silent throughout the short journey. They reached the top of the stairs and stepped out onto his small perch. His father used to work up here, and Mordekai had carried on the tradition. It was a small landing on the edge of the northern wall. Few knew of it. He was still surprised that the rulers had never blocked the way, but for some reason they turned a blind eye to his nightly vigils up here. He had his suspicions but would never voice them. This little haven let him look out at everything beyond Mezrah. During the day he could see all the way from the Black Forest to the borderlands of Taramon.

"Mordekai, what are we doing up here?"

He turned away from the inky blackness below and gazed up at the sky. His white teeth beamed through his grey beard. "Look through the telescope."

Nikara covered her yawn with delicate fingers. "Mordekai..."

"Just look, child."

She blinked slowly. He knew she didn't like him calling her child anymore; she was nineteen years of age and quite a beauty. He noticed how men now stopped to glance at her, something he was struggling to adjust to. To him, she would always be the little waif he found bleeding on his doorstep.

He bit his lip as she stepped towards the telescope he had spent hours gazing through. He knew the night sky better than anyone in the city.

Nikara squeezed her left eye tight and peered into the lens.

"Do you see my star?"

Her small fingers swivelled the telescope to the north. "Yes," she mumbled.

He watched her in agitated silence. Her body was rigid, her fingertips turning white as they pressed against the smooth wood.

Had she noticed? Why wasn't she saying anything?

Finally unable to bear it, he whispered, "Do you notice—"

"It's moving." She glanced up at him, her lips parted. "I thought I was seeing things, but..." She bent down to have another look. "It's..." Stepping away from the telescope, she leaned against the wall. "Mordekai, is it falling?"

He let out a chuckle. "Look for a diamond glowing in the north, though it falls, it will not fail." He quoted the second part of the prophecy with a laugh.

"What does that mean?"

"It means I was right. The diamond of the prophecy is not the crystal in Taramon Tower. It is this star."

The one he had discovered sixteen years ago.

Nikara swallowed. "Mordekai, it's been too long. No one believes the prophecy anymore."

"Well maybe they should."

Her lips pressed together in a tight grimace as she looked out into the inky blackness. "Do we tell—?"

"No. No, we mustn't. He forbade talk of the prophecy years ago; we must keep this to ourselves."

His face scrunched in thought as he turned his gaze to the far borderlands.

"Mordekai?"

The tremor in her voice was hard to miss, and he felt a touch of guilt as he turned to her. "Pack your things, child. It's time to leave Mezrah."

*****

Nikara bundled her belongings into the pouch Mordekai had thrown at her. She fought off tears as she scanned her sparse room.

Leaving. She didn't want to leave. This was her home.

Closing the door behind her, she threw a worn shawl over her head and shoulders before tiptoeing to the end of the corridor. Mordekai was waiting in the open doorway, adjusting his robe with frantic fingers. As soon as she was next to him, he blew out her candle and took her hand.

"We must be silent. We cannot be seen leaving the city."

Biting her lip, she followed him. They stuck to the shadows. This wasn't hard once they reached the lower part of the city where they spent most of their days. She had come to know the streets well through constant trips to help the sick and needy. Mordekai was raised by a seer and until he refused to stop talking about the star he discovered, was considered a wise man in the king's court. Now he was a nobody with the rich, but his study of medicine had made him most popular with the poor, who called upon him at all hours. Nikara had learned to accept this, although hoped that one day they'd be paid with more than eggs and dried fruit.

She let go of his hand as they ducked into a doorway and waited for two drunken revellers to sing their way past them. A smile twitched her lips as she listened to their vulgar lyrics and Mordekai's disgusted sigh.

"Hurry," he whispered.

She followed him around the next bend and wrinkled her nose as they descended further into the bowels of the city. The south end was where all the muck and grime seemed to accumulate. Mordekai's small apartment on the western wall was far from luxurious, but it was that much closer to the north side of the city, the side she one day hoped to live in.

She wondered if that would ever be a possibility now as they scampered towards the southern exit. Mordekai would of course try to sneak out this way. The guards of the city usually left the rabble to fend for themselves. They didn't bother risking life and limb to patrol this area. Nikara sensed the danger closing in around them as noises of all variety escaped beneath doorways and window ledges. A soft whimper, a lust-filled moan, a loud smash followed by a wail.

Drunken laughter filled with mindless curses grew louder as the door beside her opened. She held in a gasp and scampered after her master.

Mordekai's short frame hurried ahead of her. She had to run to catch up. She'd never seen the man put on such bursts of speed. She'd been living with him for five years now, and he'd never shown this much emotion. He had often gone on about the star and the prophecy, but like most, she'd only listened out of respect for the man. The fact that it was now falling scared her. What if the prophecy was true? What if Mordekai had been right all along?

"Once we're out of the city, where are we to go?" she whispered when she caught up to him.

"We shall follow that star."

"How?"

"I'm working on transportation as we speak."

Nikara's eyes narrowed.

He threw a tight smile over his left shoulder. She caught a brief glimpse of it as they passed beneath a flaming torch.

"Who do you know with transportation?"

"I know a man who has connections."

"Who?"

Mordekai cleared his throat then mumbled, "Gamal."

Nikara's mouth dropped open. "The debt collector? He helps no man."

"Maybe so, but he owes me a favour."

"One he's probably forgotten." She knew she was being impertinent by questioning him, but she did not fancy a trip to the palace escorted by the royal guard. King Ashan struck fear into the heart of the very bravest men. She would stand no chance in his presence.

Mordekai pulled up short. Flicking his robe back, he paused outside a dark door and looked at her. "One does not forget the day another saved his life."

With that he rapped on the door and waited with his chin held high.

Nikara folded her arms and leaned against the building. Gamal was a man of many means and could probably get them what they wanted.

"As long as it's not donkeys," she grumbled under her breath.

Mordekai's moustache jittered as the door was thrown back on its hinges.

Nikara jolted upright and gazed up at the large, grumpy man with hair protruding from what seemed like every orifice. She wrinkled her nose and stepped back. His slow, leering gaze made her pull her shawl tightly around her face and look to the ground.

"Crazy Mordekai. Your reasons for being at my door at this hour may cost you."

"I suspected as much." Mordekai's smile was warm as he removed a small bag from within his robe and shook it. The coins clinked against each other, making the ape-man grin.

Nikara waited outside the door as whispered discussions took place. She watched Mordekai nod, shake his head, nod again and then beam with a smile. Slapping the man's beefy arm, he shook his hand and closed the door.

Nikara stepped forward.

"He's bringing them around now."

She peeked over Mordekai's shoulder and couldn't help a groan. Mordekai's moustache jittered again before his lips broke into a beaming smile. "I'm sorry, my dear. It was all he had."

The donkey on the right gave out a loud bray. Dropping her head, Nikara took the reins with a tight smile and shot daggers at Gamal as he walked away.

Mordekai continued to chuckle until the southern gates loomed large. Nikara held her bundle tightly as they approached. "How are we supposed to get through the gate?"

"Gamal assures me this guard can be reasoned with."

"You mean bribed."

"It is for a good cause, my dear."

Nikara hated it when he called her that. Holding back a sarcastic reply, she waited while Mordekai approached the gatekeeper.

"Crazy Mordekai." The guard chuckled.

Her old master let out a hearty laugh. Once again conversation was lost to her as their voices dropped to a whisper. She knew Gamal was right and that Mordekai would get them through this gate. The few guards that did patrol down here were very relaxed and a gold coin or two went a long way.

She heard the clink of ten.

Avoiding eye contact, she pulled the donkey past the burly guard and out into air that felt instantly fresh. The thick side door closed with a final bang and Nikara spun to study it.

"We must not linger, child. Dawn will be breaking sooner than we wish. We must make it to the forest before anyone sees us."

Nikara closed her eyes and forced her head high. With feet made of lead she followed after the man who had saved her life, willing herself not to look back.

*****

Dawn was searing the sky when Nikara finally looked back up the steep path they had descended. It had been a treacherous journey in the dark. One only a fool would take.

She glanced at Mordekai then back up at her home.

They were now making their way along the edge of the eastern wall. As soon as they reached the forest, she would lose sight of her city altogether. If she craned her neck to the side she could just see the top of the palace. The four spires set in a perfect square stood like arrows, tall sentinels guarding the illustrious palace within the city walls. As soon as the sun hit them, they would burn bright, blinding anyone who dared look at them.

The scarf fell from her head, allowing her thick locks to tumble free and dance in the wind. She squinted back at the marshlands they had waded through. They would soon be ascending the small rocky path up towards the forest and eventually the farmlands beyond as they approached Taramon's borders.

Mordekai dismounted his donkey to lead him out of the bog and up the rocks. She had refused to mount hers until absolutely necessary. When they had reached the muck at the bottom of the hill, she had been forced to climb atop the stubborn beast. After the night she'd had, her thoughts towards this excursion were black in nature. All this effort had better be worth it.

They finally made it up the rocks and found the narrow path that led them into a thick pine forest. Nikara looked back for one last glimpse of the indestructible walls of Mezrah before mounting her donkey with a heavy sigh.

"So why do you think the star will land near Taramon?"

Mordekai waited for her to catch up and smiled. "It is the northern city. The prophecy says, 'Look for a diamond in the north.' Our falling star has been residing over that city since I discovered it. Surely the seekers must be there."

Nikara thought of the prophecy Mordekai had made her memorize. Look for a diamond glowing in the north, though it falls it will not fail, for from its ashes two seekers will arise.

"Do you think the seekers are people?"

"I cannot say for certain. It seems the most plausible explanation."

"I wonder what they're like."

"Seekers? Well, they can only be people of the finest character...strong, fast, intelligent. Oron is a thoughtful god. He sent us this prophecy. He sent us the star, and the seekers he has selected will be perfect for the task."

Chapter 2

Kyla was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. Jumping behind a large pine tree, she leaned against the trunk and pulled in a few quick breaths. A large growl too close-by for comfort made her jump. Giggles rippled through her stomach again as she took off towards home.

Weaving through the thick forest, she adjusted the bow over her shoulder and risked a glance behind her. The giant of a man was closing in fast and he did not look happy. He was trying to wipe mud from his hairy face with one hand while clutching his trousers with the other. His run was disrupted by a tree root. He stumbled to the ground and bellowed at his retreating prey. Kyla laughed even harder.

Her foot turned as it hit a dimple in the earth and she tumbled forward. Jumping up with cat-like speed, she hurtled over the fallen log in her path. The most dangerous part of this escape would be the open field before she hit the dense foliage around Taramon's eastern wall. Putting on an extra burst of speed, she accelerated into the grassy openness and refused to look back. If the guard was aiming an arrow at her, she didn't want to know about it.

Her laughter evaporated as her need to survive took precedence. As the safety of trees came within reach, she glanced over her shoulder. The puffing behemoth was slowing down, but his long strides still made him a threat.

Ducking into the forest, Kyla wove through a tight clump of trees and made a beeline for her secret escape route. Stepping onto the gnarled roots, she scrambled down a vine ladder, which had been growing with her tree for centuries, and landed with soft feet in the ditch. Leaning against the cool stone of the city wall, she crept along its edge until she reached the hidden tunnel. She pulled back a manhole sized grate and winced at the sound of metal scraping against stone. With her breath on hold, she crawled inside and landed with a splash in the shallow water.

Quiet titters began to assault her once more as she peered back out through the grate. She heard the guard breathing like a wild animal as he bashed his way through the bush, hoping to take down the little imp who dared to stand up to him.

Gripping the metal, Kyla forced her body to stop quivering with glee until his crashing footsteps turned east. A slow smile spread across her lips...and a hand landed on her shoulder.

"Oh!" Kyla spun around with a gasp.

"You are a fool."

"Jethro!" She slapped him on the arm and leaned against the grate, patting her chest. With narrowed eyes, she shot him a glare. "So this is how it is now? You don't have the decency to talk to me in public, but you do take time out of your precious day to come scare the life out of me down in this foul-smelling tunnel."

A slow, easy smile lit Jethro's face. "Where have you been?"

"Why do you even care?"

Jethro's brawny frame leaned against the stone wall behind him. His hazel eyes glimmered with a knowing smile. "Let's see, a bow slung over your shoulder, a quiver full of arrows... so not hunting then. I'm guessing target practice," he clicked his fingers, "in the clearing by the waterhole."

Kyla bit back a smile.

"How'd you do?"

She raised her chin. "I would have split your arrow in two."

Jethro's dark eyebrows jumped up with approval as he nodded his head. "Is that all you got up to?"

"Jethro, what are you doing here?" Kyla snapped.

"I just came to warn you."

"Of what?"

Jethro frowned, making Kyla's stomach clench.

"Queen Elaina is wondering why she saw her daughter being chased out of the forest by one of Ashan's guards when she should have been studying world history with her tutor."

Kyla stood up straight and swallowed. "My mother did not see. She is always holding council with Lord Varon at this time of day."

"She was delayed." Jethro winced.

The blood drained from Kyla's face. Biting her lips together, she pulled the bow over her head and cleared her throat.

"You might want to present yourself to her before she has every man in the castle looking for you."

With a child-like groan, Kyla gripped the end of her bow and rolled her eyes. "Fine." Slumping her shoulders, she spun away from freedom and started stomping towards the dungeons.

"You may want to go past your chambers on the way. Perhaps tidy up a little?"

She came to an abrupt stop and slowly spun back to face the boy she'd known since birth. "Excuse me?"

Jethro's lips fought with a grin as he pushed himself off the wall and sauntered towards her. "Just because you hate wearing dresses doesn't mean she won't expect to see you in one." He pointed at the attire she had stolen from her brother years ago. She kept it hidden in a trunk at the end of her bed and only pulled it out when she was sneaking from the castle. If only her mother knew how comfortable they were, she wouldn't insist on mountains of material that were impossible to run in.

"You're already in for her wrath." Jethro tipped his head. "You will only antagonise her more by appearing like this."

Kyla pushed her tongue against the side of her mouth and huffed. "You know I hate you."

"With the fire of a thousand suns?"

Laughter burst from her mouth before she could stop it. "And more!" She punched him on the arm, missing the familiar banter they used to share as children. The amount of times he had driven her to screams of rage with his playful teasing, but a few punches later and they had been best friends again. She often wondered what had happened between them and wished they could return to past days.

As if Jethro could read her mind, he stepped back from her, the playful smile replaced with a new seriousness she did not care for. "You should get moving."

"Yes, well, we wouldn't want to keep Her Majesty waiting." She couldn't resist a little scorn.

"I'll stall her, shall I?"

"No doubt Athra already is."

Jethro's lips pinched into a tight line before spreading with a smile. "He does like to look after you."

"He is my future husband. It is his duty."

"And he does it well."

Kyla was waiting for another gibe, something to keep their banter going, but Jethro was done. She could see by the set of his jaw that he was once again creating distance between them. She tried not to let it hurt. Drawing on the anger that helped her survive most things, she threw back her shoulders and walked away.

"I still think you're a fool," he called after her.

"No you don't," she called back. "You're just jealous you weren't beside me to watch that oaf land with his nose in the mud."

*****

Jethro couldn't help a chuckle. He shook his head as he listened to Kyla run through the echoing corridors and up the stairs. She would sneak her way to her chambers, probably stripping off armour and clothing as she went. The girl had no sense of propriety, considering she was a princess of Taramon.

Her poor lady-in-waiting. The woman, who Jethro was sure had looked young and vibrant the day Kyla was born, now had grey streaks running through her hair and permanent creases around her mouth.

Jethro grinned as he climbed through the hidden entrance and into the dungeons. He carefully put the stones back into place, making the wall look as though it had been standing for centuries. Their secret was actually well hidden within an alcove in the back corner of the dungeons. But this was a secret he never wanted uncovered...so he always took the time to preserve it.

Ascending the stairs out of the dungeons, he couldn't help another chuckle. Sixteen years of Kyla would age anyone. He checked no one was watching before stepping into the brilliant sunshine and turning towards the throne room. He wasn't going to miss the mother-daughter showdown for anything.

Striding into the round open courtyard, he gazed up at the monument that stood tall and proud in the centre. It towered into the sky and housed the crystal of Taramon, which had been discovered when the city was rebuilt over 400 years ago. Everyone thought it was a sign of blessing from Oron himself, and when whispers of the prophecy spread, people began to wonder if it was the diamond in the north.

From this angle, Jethro could not really see the shining crystal, and he was not sure what he thought about it. No one mentioned the prophecy anymore. The crystal was simply a crystal these days. Fear seemed to bring everyone to that conclusion, but on occasion Jethro's father still mentioned the prophecy...when the door was locked and the shutters were closed.

Jethro liked to think the prophecy was real, but the rulers of Mezrah made sure no one was brave enough to voice that opinion. He became aware that his hands had bunched into fists. He forced his fingers to relax.

Weaving through the marketplace, he smiled and greeted the farmers who came each morning, setting up their stalls while dawn was only just scraping the sky.

Taramon buzzed with business today, and Jethro could almost fool himself into believing that the city had returned to its former cheer. The sound of childish giggles reached him, and he turned to spot two boys playing chase with wooden swords, their mother calling out for them to come back immediately as she stood with a wailing baby in her arms. In the past she would have left them to run, but people kept family close these days.

With a pensive frown he continued his journey.

"Morning, Lord Jethro. A million miles away, I see."

"Marcus." Jethro slapped the weathered man on the shoulder and smiled.

"How are you, young fellow?"

"Well, thank you. I see apples are fresh in season, they look delicious."

Marcus frowned. "Yes, well I'd have plenty more if it weren't for them nasty guards of Mezrah patrolling the farmland roads."

"They are only allowed on the borderlands of Taramon. They should not be coming close enough to affect you."

Marcus grunted. "They are sneaky buggers, slowly inching their way into our land, taking what does not belong to them."

"I know." Jethro squeezed the man's shoulder and shot him a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry."

"'Tis not your worry, lad."

"You take care."

"Oh, I'll be fine. I'm just an old man complaining." He flicked his hand. "Be gone with you. I have fruit to sell."

Jethro grinned and turned away, but his smile did not last for long. The sad thing was, Marcus wasn't an old man. He was barely two years past his father, Benyamin. Jethro understood that working in the elements could weather a man's skin, but the reason Marcus' hair was falling out in rapid succession had nothing to do with the elements and everything to do with the brewing storm coming from Mezrah.
Chapter 3

Jethro waltzed into the crowded throne room and spotted Athra leaning against the wall, looking anything but pleased.

"How goes it, cousin?" Jethro took a place next to his taller counterpart.

Athra was four years his senior, well nearly; his twentieth birthday was in two months, but they had been growing up together since Athra arrived in Taramon ten years ago. They were as close as any cousins could be. Athra's serious side countered Jethro's constant need to turn everything into a joke. He would make a good king, which was why he was chosen to marry Kyla.

Jethro's insides twisted, but he shook his head. It was the right decision. As soon as the betrothal had been announced, Athra had been in training for kingship. He was thriving in it. Jethro would have suffocated and rebelled.

It was the right decision.

Jethro repeated the words a few more times, focussing on the ornately patterned tiles at his feet. Lifting his head, he admired the shafts of light that streamed in from the upper windows, bathing the wall tapestries with a soft light. His insides slowly untangled as he buried his emotions back where they belonged.

It was the right decision.

Jethro glanced at Athra. His poor cousin looked so dismayed.

A slow smile eased over his face as he nudged Athra with his shoulder. "Oh, don't frown so. It's not like she was firing arrows at him."

Athra sighed. "She should have been doing her studies. How did she even get out of the castle unnoticed?"

Jethro held his tongue. When Kyla and he had discovered the tunnel at the age of nine, they swore not to tell another living soul. It had been purely accidental. They had been playing around in the deserted dungeons, and Kyla had thrown an ancient axe at the wall. She had completely missed her target. The axe hurtled into the alcove and they heard a crack. They ran to investigate and ended up wiggling a few stones free, revealing a hidden path to freedom. They had spent many days sneaking in and out of the castle, exploring the forest beyond the walls.

He swallowed back his yearning and shrugged. "It is a mystery. Although I have heard she's back in the castle now."

"Yes, her lady-in-waiting has informed us she will be here momentarily."

Jethro glanced at the queen as she paced the stage, grasping her hands together. Her mouth was set in a tight line and her eyes were as hard as stone. Jethro looked away as her gaze fell upon him. In past years she would have pointed at him and demanded to know what he'd coerced her daughter into doing, but she knew better now. The infamous duo of Jethro and Kyla no longer existed.

Athra shook his head and sighed. "The queen is going to devour her."

The queen, although short in stature, was a powerful woman. People often commented on her beauty, with her high cheekbones, full lips and dark brown curls. She always looked impeccable, but it had nothing to do with vanity. There was never any conceit in her wide brown eyes...just a constant look of disquiet. If it weren't for her ever-present worry lines, Jethro would have said Kyla was the spitting image of her mother. But the feisty princess walked with a different kind of beauty.

Jethro's lips curled into a smile.

"Kyla can manage. She is strong."

"Willed!" Athra crossed his arms. "Why can't she just do as she's told?"

Jethro gave Athra a pitiful look and they both chuckled.

"How shall I ever control her?"

Jethro hid his frown by turning away. A girl like Kyla didn't need to be controlled; she needed to be understood. He glanced back at his cousin, probably one of the best men he'd ever known, and reminded himself that it was not his concern.

The side door flew open and Kyla burst into the room. Her clothing looked thrown on and her long braid was in disarray. Wayward curls escaped their bindings, and there was a clump of chestnut hair forming a mountain on the top of her head. Jethro clamped his lips together, squashing his smile most unsuccessfully.

Silence descended over the room as Kyla came to a stop. Her pale brown eyes went wide for a moment before her head snapped up and she straightened her shoulders. She had obviously not been expecting such a large audience.

Straightening her dress, she moved around the central fire pit and up towards the dais with an elegance that had been drilled into her since she could walk. She stopped in front of her mother, her chin held high, ready for battle.

The queen shared a silent look with Athra's father, Lord Varon, before she gracefully turned to face her daughter.

"Explain to me," her voice shook, "why I saw a boy, who looked remarkably like my only daughter, being chased across the north-eastern field by a guard of Mezrah."

Kyla rolled her eyes and sealed her lips.

"Do you have a death wish? Is that what it is? You hate our beloved city so much that you wish to lose your life to a guard who is only there to protect you."

"Protect me?" Kyla pointed at her chest. "He'd do nothing of the sort."

"Well, of course not, if you're firing arrows at him!"

"I wasn't firing anything at him."

"Then why was he chasing you?"

Once again Kyla's mouth shut tight and she looked to the floor.

"I have signed a treaty with King Ashan, and if I am seen to break it, we will no longer have the protection of his army."

Kyla scoffed.

"I am trying to keep my people safe."

"Your people are not safe. The treaty is worthless to Ashan!" Kyla's arms swung out wide. "Those guards you think protect us do nothing of the kind. They are mean and cruel and are constantly harassing the farmers. The amount of produce stolen on the way to market is deplorable. You have no idea what goes on outside these walls, because you're too afraid to leave them. Ashan's soldiers are not allowed in the northern forest, but they constantly hide there waiting to ambush farmers on their way to market. The only reason the farmers stay quiet is because they're scared and they know you won't do anything about it! I was within my rights to defend a citizen of Taramon today."

"You had no right to be outside these walls. You are the princess of this court and will one day be queen." The queen's eyes sparked with rage as she descended the stairs. "That guard would have killed you without hesitation."

Kyla finally lifted her gaze to look directly into her mother's eyes. "He would have tried."

The queen's eyes rounded at Kyla's confident smirk. Jethro could sense the effort it took her not to tear at her clothes and start screaming obscenities at this hopeless daughter of hers. He sometimes wondered how it was possible they were even related. A sad smile brushed his lips as he realised Queen Elaina was not the parent Kyla took after.

The queen forced a breath through her flaring nostrils. "If your father were here, he would strap your backside raw."

Kyla's skin paled, and her voice was soft as she muttered, "If he were alive, he'd be congratulating me for standing up for my people."

Queen Elaina's cheeks flushed pink. For an instant, Jethro wondered if she was going to slap her daughter's face. Instead her knuckles grew white with self-control. "So help me, Kyla. You are not to go beyond the city walls again."

"And how will you stop me?"

The queen's angry glare darkened one shade further. "Expect a royal guard on your tail from now on. She is not to leave your sight." She pointed at the two guards standing by the door. They stood to attention and nodded.

Kyla's lips drooped. She swallowed then gave her mother the blackest look Jethro had ever seen. The queen matched it without flinching.

"Now be gone from my sight."

Kyla's shoulders were rigid as she turned away from her mother. Storming towards the door, her skirts swished and caught on the edge of the metal fire grate. Rather than stopping to unhook them, she let out a ferocious roar and kept walking. The sound of ripping fabric filled the room, followed by an indignant gasp from the queen.

Jethro's body shook with mirth until he was firmly elbowed in the side by his very sombre cousin.

*****

Athra approached the two guards and gave them a kind smile as they made way for him to get past. He paused and studied the back of his future bride, trying to decide how best to approach this conversation.

It had been nearly an hour since she had left the throne room with her usual flair, and she still had not changed. He glanced at the trail of torn fabric at her feet and then let his gaze travel up her lithe body. Fire lit his cheeks and he looked to the sky. Unlike him, she was oblivious to her beauty.

Queen Elaina had announced the betrothal a year ago. Athra had known they must wait until Kyla's seventeenth birthday before they were to wed, but some days the wedding night could not come fast enough.

He cleared his throat and Kyla turned at the sound. She gave him a glum smile before leaning back against the turret wall. She always came up here to escape and he understood why. Stepping up beside her, he studied the vast land below them. From here he could see all the way across the forest to the northern mountains. The jagged peaks were covered with powdery white snow, gifting beauty and elegance to something so strong and foreboding. The crystal clear sky was devoid of clouds. Today, nothing could hide the righteous alps that kept whatever lay north of them at bay.

He breathed in the fresh air and rested his arm next to Kyla's, so they were just touching.

"What really happened with the guard?" He kept his voice easy and light.

Kyla sighed. "I heard a noise near the edge of the forest. When I went to investigate, I saw the guard was...well, I don't know if he was actually going to attack her, but he was scaring this poor girl. She looked younger than I. How could I just walk away? What if he had...?"

"So you attacked him?"

She gave him an incredulous look. "I've not lost my mind completely."

"Then what did you do?"

Pushing herself off the ledge, she let out a sigh and turned away from him. "I simply provided the distraction that poor girl needed to get away."

"Distraction?"

"Look, he was so intent on this girl he didn't even notice me."

"Do what?"

"I simply—" She licked her lips and gave him a sidelong look. "I sliced the back of his trousers open."

"What?"

"He was so horrified, he let the girl go. She ran and I ran..." Giggles started to hinder her speech. "And when he tried to chase me, his trousers fell to the ground and he tripped into the mud. It was the funniest thing I've seen in months."

"Kyla." Athra closed his eyes and dropped his head.

"I understand it was wrong, but..." She squeezed his arm. "It was so triumphant too." Her laughter subsided and she leaned back against the wall. He glanced up at her and watched her smile diminish. "I hate that she signed that treaty."

"We all do, but she was trying to stop them from attacking us. Taramon's army was devastated after your father—"

"I know. And I know she was afraid and alone and she didn't know what else to do, but placing Taramon at the mercy of King Ashan? It is folly. He is an evil man, if you can even call him a man."

"I've never seen him."

"No one has, but the rumours are rife and I believe Safeer's descriptions to be false."

Athra's jaw clenched. He never thought himself capable of actually hating another human being, but Ashan's ambassador, Safeer, was the exception. Having to be pleasant to him during his visits was the purest form of torture.

Forcing his dark thoughts aside, he took Kyla's hand and gently rubbed his thumb over her soft skin as she spoke.

"I can't help thinking that any day he will break this treaty and attack us. We have no army to defend ourselves, just a few royal guards. I do not trust him."

"No one does, but so far, the treaty has kept us safe."

"I wish my father was still here."

Athra pulled Kyla into his arms and kissed the top of her head. It had been eight years since King Heron led his powerful army out of the city. The day Taramon's broken army had straggled home from attacking Ashan would be permanently burned into his mind. A mere few survived. He was lucky enough to see his father limp through the gateway, but all four of Kyla's brothers had been slain, along with her father. The city had been devastated. Safeer arrived with the treaty only a month later. With the queen still in a complete state of shock, she signed it and they had been "protected" by Ashan ever since. Of course this protection included the fact Taramon was not allowed to build up another army; they had to supply Ashan's troops with whatever they demanded, and the taxes seemed to be rising yearly without one penny falling into the city's coffers. Taramon was slowly dying and there seemed to be no way to stop it.

"What's that?" Kyla lifted her head from his shoulder and pointed to the sky.

Athra squinted and noticed a burning light in the distance. It was being chased by trail of thick smoke and heading for earth at a startling speed. He let go of Kyla and leaned against the turret wall. "I don't know."

She came up beside him, her face bunched with confusion. Whatever it was looked to be heading for a crash landing between the northern forest and the foot of the alps. The impact was inevitable and Athra instinctively braced himself.

They both watched with open mouths as it plummeted. Moments later a burst of light lit the sky and a distant boom resounded. Athra shaded his eyes as he watched a mammoth cloud of ash and smoke billow from the landing point. A low vibration rumbled towards them, followed by a shock wave that blew them from their feet.

Athra covered Kyla with his body as the air whipped past them, and then it was over. Rising from the ground, he helped Kyla up and checked if the guards were okay. They stood on shaky feet, looking petrified.

"What was that?" Kyla's brown eyes were wide with curiosity.

"I'm not sure, but I'm going to find out."
Chapter 4

Jethro mounted his horse with the rest of the hunting party. Tensions were high as nervous townsfolk crowded around asking questions, mothers tried to hush hyper children and Kyla had yet another altercation with the queen about wanting to go with the men.

He couldn't help feeling a touch sorry for her as she yelled something he could not hear, threw her arms in the air and ran up the stairs. He noticed his younger brother, Levi, had done the same thing with their father, and was now dashing away in anger. No doubt going to sulk in the stables like he always did.

Digging his horse in the side, the beast leapt forward and followed the small contingent of riders out the city gates. As they hit the open field before the forest, he glanced over his shoulder and spotted Kyla in the turret, watching them with a mournful gaze. He shot her a glum smile, which he knew she wouldn't be able to see, and glanced back to see Athra studying him.

"I told her I'd give her a full report, but it's probably not enough."

Jethro shrugged. "She would have gone to war with her father at the age of eight if she'd been allowed. She loves adventure and hates the idea of missing out."

"So true, but she's not born for battle. I know when it comes to archery she can barely be rivalled, but target practice is a world away from combat."

Jethro bit his tongue and looked away. What did Athra know of combat? The most he'd ever faced was in the practice ring when their fathers had had them train as children. They still had the odd friendly joust, but thanks to the treaty, the only men who were allowed to seriously train were the twenty royal guards who protected the queen and Kyla.

Jethro stole a sidelong look at his cousin and was about to vouch for the skill of his fiancée, but decided against it. The poor man had enough to worry about without discovering that his wilful bride-to-be had spent many hours forcing Jethro to teach her everything he'd learned about swordplay from his father. She was a talented opponent and had nearly beaten him on more than one occasion. He wondered how good she was now, having not had a training session in a year. How he'd love to find out. Jethro looked back one last time before entering the forest and couldn't help a sad smile.

They wound their way through the thick pine trees and low-lying shrubs in silence, heading in a northerly direction. Jethro could feel the men's anxiety and tried hard not to feed off it. Who knew what awaited them. They were hardly resourced to handle some sort of foreign invader, although he did not think that's what they were heading towards. He had not seen the ball of light falling from the sky, so could not really say. He'd been sitting down to a meal with his family when the ground began to rumble.

Running a hand through his mop of hair, he scratched his head and looked to Athra.

"Do you have any idea what it might be?"

"I honestly don't know. It almost looked as though a star was falling from the sky, if that is even possible."

"I wonder what we'll find."

"You know, it's lucky it didn't land any closer to the city."

Athra gripped the reins a little tighter as his forehead wrinkled. Jethro fought a grin. He was always so serious. It didn't land close to the city, so there was no use worrying about whether it may have. Jethro couldn't help feeling a sense of excitement. Nothing like this had ever happened before, and he was going to be one of the first to see this amazing thing up close. He spurred his horse a little faster without realizing, and soon the whole party was catching up to him.

As the six men came to the redefined edge of the forest, they all instinctively brought their horses to rest. What used to be lush, green forest was now desecrated. Trees lay bruised and battered around them. The edge of their quiet woods had been wiped clear by the falling object. The impact of the explosion had toppled and scarred the earth. All that remained now was an eerie silence and the smell of burning cinders.

The men and horses all seemed thrown by this discovery, and their pace slowed to an amble as they negotiated fallen trunks and charred debris. About half a mile later they came to a stop on the edge of a large crater.

Athra nosed his way to the front and dismounted. Scrambling over the fallen logs at his feet, he walked to the edge of the ridge and stopped. Everyone remained speechless. Jethro listened for any sound of wildlife, in the hope of dispelling the disquiet within, but there was nothing. If any creatures did survive this, they were probably racing as fast as they could in the opposite direction. A small part of him was fighting the same urge.

Nudging his horse forward, Jethro found a small path that led him to the top of the ridge. He now had the same view as Athra and looked down into a deep crater that was still swirling with dusty mist.

"Do we descend?"

Athra looked over at him and gave a brief nod. Clutching the hilt of his sword, he returned to his horse and ordered his men to follow Jethro's path. In an effort to encourage the reluctant men, Jethro shot them his classic grin, let out a loud whoop and propelled his horse over the edge of the ridge. He heard the chuckles behind him and smiled to himself as the sound of hooves soon followed.

The air around them was misty as they descended the crumbling hill. The unnatural stillness was disturbed only by the sound of skittering debris as it shifted beneath the horses' weight.

"Be careful, men. We do not know what lays at the bottom." Athra's voice reached out through the haze, and the sound of swords being drawn rung in the air. Jethro pulled his agitated horse to a halt and dismounted, pulling his own sword from its sheath.

"Whoa, Hava. It's alright, boy. Everything's okay." He patted his horse on the neck and, taking the reins in his hand, continued sliding down the slope on foot. He reached the bottom and came to a stop in a pile of shiny black rock.

As he stood in stunned silence, the smoky cloud began to rise and soon a huge piece of obsidian rock came into view. It was almost as if it were alive. The black mass, which was twice his size, had gold lines swirling and pulsing through it. The huge boulder was surrounded by smaller black chips, which had obviously broken off with the impact of landing.

Murmurs and whispered questions overtook the silence as men crouched around him, running their gloved hands through the unusual chips. One of the guards drew himself tall and approached the large rock. He prodded it with the tip of his sword. The gold swirls sparked and darted away but didn't stop moving. They soon swirled back to where they had been. Another sword tap and they repeated the movement.

Jethro grinned as he watched the golden swirls.

No doubt bolstered by the fact that the rock seemed completely benign, the guard used his teeth to remove his leather glove and reached for the rock.

Jethro hissed and nearly shouted at him to stop, but the man's finger brushed the stone and was none the worse for it. He chuckled and touched the rock again, this time using his entire hand.

"It's cool. I thought it would feel like fire," he called over his shoulder.

Jethro watched the golden lines swirl and dance in a smooth rhythm, unaffected by the softer touch. A few men gathered around, removing their gloves and testing out the foreign object. They all looked entranced by the swirls. Jethro felt the same tug and was about to step forward when Athra appeared beside him.

"What do you think it is?" Athra held out a fist-sized portion of the substance. Jethro studied the shiny, sharp exterior and tapped it with his sword tip. It made a sweet tinking sound and Jethro grinned as the gold swirls swished and moved away like they had done with the larger rock. He tapped it again and had to resist the urge to do it a third time. The dancing gold spirals were mesmerising.

"Who knows, cousin," he mumbled, unable to take his eyes off the chunk of rock.

Athra smiled back, obviously relieved it wasn't something sinister. Reaching down, he collected a few smaller samples. "To show Kyla. She'll never forgive me if I don't." He chuckled.

Jethro let go of Hava's reins and decided to collect a sample of his own before going to touch the colossal boulder. Taking his time, he looked for something his little sister, Sabine, might like and, of course, something to brighten up a sulky Levi. He reached for a collection of rocks a pace away from him, going for the largest in the mound.

As soon as his skin touched the black surface, the gold spirals sparked and buzzed. He felt a jolt shoot up his arm and dropped the stone with a pained cry. Jerking back, he moved away, flexing his fingers with a frown.

"Are you alright?" Athra patted his shoulder.

Still unable to speak, Jethro studied his fingertips with a nod, perplexed by the fire that seemed to be burning a trail up his arm. He held it to his chest and grimaced.

"How odd." Athra reached for the stone Jethro had dropped and collected it up with tentative fingers. He squeezed it in his palm, looking confused. "I can hold it fine. What did you feel?"

"It was burning," Jethro mumbled. "My arm feels like it's on fire."

"Hmmm." Athra studied the rock. "Maybe you should keep back then, cousin. Obviously this rock reacts differently to different people."

"Stop touching it!" Athra ordered the men back from the large piece of rock.

They turned towards him, obviously confused and disappointed, but stepped away as instructed.

Athra gathered in the men to check that they were all okay. Everyone but Jethro seemed fine.

"Let us take some samples back to the castle. The boulder is obviously too large to move, and we still do not know what it is capable of." He glanced at Jethro with a worried frown.

"I'd like to take back two pieces this size." He held up the one he originally showed Jethro. "And then a few handfuls of the chips. Put your gloves back on, men. Let's get this job done. I'd like to return to the castle before nightfall if we can."

With specimens loaded into pouches and saddlebags, the small troop left the mysterious area and headed back to the castle.

Within moments, Athra moved to the front of the pack, giving very specific instructions to the queen's guard about what to report. He was no doubt freeing himself of the duty so he could seek out Kyla as soon as they returned to the castle. Jethro's stomach clenched. He looked away with a frown and winced as his other arm began to tingle with fire.

As they wove through the forest, the men's excited chatter soon became fuzzy. Jethro's return journey became anything but pleasant, as the fire spread throughout his entire body. By the time he could see the crystal of Taramon Tower lit by the setting sun, he was drenched with sweat and wanted nothing more than to strip off his clothes and crawl into bed.

*****

Kyla paced from one wall of her room to the other. She spun the large ring on her thumb as she walked back and forth past the end of her bed. It was a comfort she was completely unaware of. The ring had belonged to her father and it fit Kyla's thumb perfectly. Her mother hated her wearing it, but she refused to take it off. The golden band, inlaid with pale blue sapphires, was a precious treasure, and whenever her emotions were in complete turmoil she would often find herself playing with it.

After her second public outburst in one morning, the queen had found her at the top of the turret and ordered her to her room. The guards had had to practically drag her there and had been standing watch at the door ever since.

After spouting off a mouthful of vile insults, she found the calm she required to start breathing again and quickly berated herself for being so immature. Tears burned her eyes, but she would not let them fall. That was when the pacing began.

By the time she heard the call for the gates to open, her feet were aching, but she did not stop, not until Athra was standing in the doorway grinning at her.

She rushed towards him, and he collected her up for a brief hug. Stepping back, she crossed her arms and glared at him. "What took you so long?"

Athra chuckled and pulled her towards him again. She allowed him to kiss her, even though she was desperate for news. She found he was always more pliable after a kiss and had learned to use it to her advantage. Running her fingers around the back of his neck, she threaded them into his hair and pressed her lips firmly against his.

The guard outside the door cleared his throat as a bustle of skirts approached them.

"Your Highness."

Kyla pulled away from Athra with a cheeky grin as her lady-in-waiting briskly announced herself.

"Hello, Sarah."

"Lord Athra." She gave him an austere nod, which made him blush and take one more pace away from Kyla.

Sarah pottered about the room, making her presence all too known. Kyla turned away from Athra with a sigh.

"So? What news?"

"Well." Athra placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and followed Kyla to the plush cushions by the fireplace. "It appears to be some sort of large rock. All we can think is that it may be a fallen star."

"A fallen star? Is that even possible?"

Athra shrugged. "The most important thing is that it does not appear to be a threat. Who knows what Ashan will think about it, but his men do not tend to wander that far north, and if the explosion went unnoticed by Mezrah then they will probably stay unaware."

"Surely the soldiers that patrol the south-east borders would have noticed."

"But will they investigate without orders?"

Kyla shrugged. The soldiers weren't known for their independent thinking. They were petrified of Ashan's wrath. She had heard rumour of the brutality of Ashan's army. Being a foot soldier was not something to be envied. In thinking that, the soldiers had no problem wandering into Taramon's territory, but Ashan probably encouraged it, in spite of the fact it defied the treaty.

Kyla felt her blood begin to boil and shook her head.

"So a rock. That's all?" She couldn't help feeling a touch disappointed; she was hoping for something far more dramatic and fun.

"It's like no rock I have ever seen. Here, I brought a sample for you."

With a grin, Kyla sat forward while she watched Athra dig around in his pocket. Pulling out a small pouch, he opened the string and showed her. She gazed at the black stones, mesmerised by the gold swirls moving within them. With a curious finger she reached towards the small chips he had collected.

"Be careful, Jethro did not react kindly to touching these."

"What do you mean? Is he alright?"

"I think he's fine. The rock seemed to burn him is all. I'm not sure why. I was able to hold them without feeling a thing...as were the rest of the men."

Kyla frowned, annoyed at the worry pinching her gut. Jethro barely spoke to her anymore. He did not deserve her concern.

With a determined frown she reached for the rocks, but was halted by a scuffling of feet outside her door.

They both glanced up to see a tearful Sabine standing before them. Her large brown eyes were wide with worry. "Please, you must come."

Kyla bolted up from the floor. "What's the matter?"

"Jethro is ill. I can't find the queen or Father."

"They are in a council meeting." Athra rose from his cushion. "One of the men is reporting back on what we found."

"Mother doesn't know what to do. He is burning with fever and groaning as if in pain, but he seems unable to speak." Her voice wobbled and Kyla rubbed a hand over her back.

"It's okay. We will come and see him immediately."

"I'm sorry, my lady, but you must stay." Sarah looked guilty as she uttered the words. "Your mother said you must remain in your room for the rest of the day. I cannot disregard her orders."

Kyla let out an irritated huff.

"It's okay, my love." Athra squeezed her shoulder. "I will return with news as fast as I can."

He took Sabine's hand and gave Kyla a quick peck on the cheek before walking out the door.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Kyla resisted the urge to throw something. She shot Sarah a look of disgust that soon morphed to one of pleading when she realized anger never got her anywhere with her plump aide.

"I will inform the queen and see what I can do." Sarah gave her arm an understanding rub and left the room. The guards closed ranks behind her retreating form, as if knowing Kyla would try for an escape.

She let out a loud sigh before slamming the heavy door as firmly as she could. Leaning against the wood, she gave it a firm kick and then spotted the pouch Athra had left on the table.

Lifting it gently, she gazed at the glossy rocks, once again enchanted by the golden swirls within them. With a small smile, she pushed her fingers into the bag and wiggled them within the rocks. They made a sweet tinking sound as they touched one another, but then they began to buzz. She felt several sharp bolts of pain skirt over her skin. She dropped the bag with a yelp and grabbed at her hand. Black chips scattered across the floor, but she made no attempt to retrieve them. Hot pinpricks raced over her digits, leaving behind a burning sensation that worked its way up her arm.

She stumbled back and landed on the pillows. Wrapping her legs up to her chest, she held her knees and softly whimpered.

Chapter 5

Athra ascended the stairs on weary feet. His body was tired, his brain was tired and his heart was aching. He'd just come from sitting with Jethro, watching his ox of a cousin writhe in a bed drenched with sweat. He was now going to watch Kyla do the same.

No one could figure out how, or why, the black rock was affecting them this way. Everyone else seemed perfectly fine. The frustration was beyond compare.

"At least the screaming has stopped."

Athra heard his father's voice inside Kyla's room and paused outside the door.

"For now." The queen's words were clipped.

"Elaina, it will be okay."

"How do you know that, Varon? It's been three days since she was found sweating by the fireplace, since then it's been a nightmare of screaming and fever and..." The queen's voice wobbled and sputtered out, replaced by a few short sniffs.

"Shhh."

Athra listened to slow steps walking across the room and peeked his head through the doorway. His father wrapped the queen in a comforting embrace, his large frame engulfing her. With sure hands, he patted the top of her thick hair.

"You must not fear. She is sick, not dying."

The queen's body tensed and she pulled away, dabbing her cheeks with a lacy kerchief.

"How do you know that?" She paced away from him. "She's the only remaining heir to the throne of Taramon. I had five children, Varon. Five!" She raised the fingers of one hand to emphasise her point. "I cannot outlive them all."

She paused at the fireplace and crossed her arms. "He should never have brought this evil into the city. What was he thinking?"

"You cannot blame Athra. We asked him to go and see what fell from the sky. We asked for a detailed report on what he found. He gave us exactly that."

In spite of his father's assurance, Athra did feel guilty. After Jethro had reacted the way he did, he should have backed away and banned everyone from the area, but he wanted to show Kyla what they had found. In an effort to please her, he had ignored all the warning signs. He had been oblivious to Jethro's silent suffering on the ride home. Why had he not taken notice?

He rubbed his aching temples and silently berated himself once more. A moan from the bed made his shoulders tense. The queen clutched her skirts and shuffled over to the bedside.

"It's okay, Your Majesty." Sarah lifted the cloth from Kyla's forehead and soaked it again. "She is merely groaning in her sleep."

Kyla's lady-in-waiting had not left her side since discovering her. She looked worn and sleep deprived, but Athra knew she would keep her vigil until Kyla either rose from that bed or passed away.

Athra closed his eyes and swallowed, not wanting to consider that reality.

"I don't think I can face the screaming again," the queen whispered, her eyes wide and still.

Sarah's smile was sympathetic. No one could face that screaming again. Watching both his future bride and his closest friend call out in agony and being unable to stop it was a torture he did not want to endure again.

The queen let out a shaky sigh, and Athra decided it was time to present himself. He softly stepped into the room and cleared his throat.

Everyone turned with wide, expectant eyes. Athra wished he were bearing brighter news. All he could do was offer them a glum smile.

"How is Jethro?" Varon approached him.

"The same. He seems to be no worse...or better."

His father squeezed his shoulder before letting him pass. Athra nodded at the queen and knelt beside Kyla's bed, lifting her limp hand into his.

He gently caressed her damp skin, willing her to recover. An agonised silence descended. It took some time before Athra noticed how suffocating it felt.

It was with much relief that he heard a scuffling of feet outside the door. They all turned as one of the royal guards entered.

"I'm sorry to disturb, Your Majesty, but you have a most insistent caller."

"At this hour? It has already gone dark."

"His name is Mordekai."

"I know no such man. Send him away." She flicked her hand.

"I have tried, but he will not leave. He sits outside the gate, claiming to stay there until he can have an audience with you."

The queen closed her eyes with an agitated sigh.

"He says he has news," the guard swallowed, "of a fallen star."

Everyone's heads snapped to attention. Four sets of wide eyes stared the nervous messenger down. He cleared his throat and adjusted his collar.

"What news?" The queen's voice was high and a little squeaky. She clasped her hands together and pulled her body tall, her habitual gesture when trying to gain control of her emotions.

"He will only tell you, Your Majesty."

"Who is this man?"

"He is a seer from Mezrah."

"Mezrah?" Varon said with disgust. "How do we know he is not a spy?"

The queen ignored him, her eyes narrowing in on the guard. "A seer. Does he know medicine?"

"Most have an understanding, Your Majesty."

She drew in a breath, hope lighting her eyes for the first time in days. "Bring him to me at once."

"Elaina?" Varon followed her out of the room, horrified by her hasty decision. Their brewing argument faded from hearing as they rushed down the passageway.

Athra jumped from his place on the floor, then stopped and looked down at the bed.

"It's okay, milord. I will not leave her side." Sarah gifted him a kind smile.

"Thank you," he whispered as he rushed for the door.

*****

The throne room was filled with an agitated tension as Mordekai and his assistant entered. Athra studied the small, dark man with the large beard and a head bereft of any hair. His dusky eyes were open and inquisitive as he bowed before the queen. His assistant followed suit and as she stood, removed her hair covering.

Athra's insides jumped with pleasant surprise. Her luscious hair tumbled down her back as she turned her dark, almond-shaped eyes upon him. Her oriental beauty stole his breath. He scrambled for some composure and shot her a quivering smile. She returned the gesture with a small smirk, her eyes dancing with amusement.

Sure his cheeks were flaming, he cleared his throat and faced the queen as she began to speak.

"Sir Mordekai. The hour is very late. What news do you bring me?"

"I am sorry for the hour, Your Majesty, but I have travelled far with the most important news I will ever bring you."

"Speak quickly, seer."

Straightening his shoulders, he gathered the robe at his feet and addressed a room that had filled with a few notable councilmen, obviously pulled from their homes to hear what the seer had to say. "All my life I have been studying the stars, and sixteen years ago, I discovered one I had never seen before. It was very small, but burning with such intensity, I could not pass it by. Your Majesty," he spun to face her, "I believe it was the diamond of the north."

The queen's face bunched with confusion.

"From the prophecy." Mordekai's eyebrows rose.

"I know what you speak of, yet I do not understand how you have the audacity to utter such words in my throne room." The queen rose from her seat and paced the dais. "You know it is forbidden. These walls have ears, Sir Mordekai."

"I am sorry to upset you, Your Majesty, but we can no longer ignore the signs."

"What signs? You insisted on seeing me to tell me about a fallen star, not the diamond in the north."

"I believe the star is the diamond. I saw it six nights ago, descending from the sky. It was falling steadily until three days ago and I have not seen it since." His eyes were wide with hope as he studied the faces in the room.

The queen paused and swallowed, her skin paling.

"It has fallen." Mordekai grinned and almost looked ready to start jumping circles around the room. "Where did it land? May I see it?" His glee was barely contained and could not be dampened by the queen's austere glare.

"It is dangerous. I will allow no one to approach that rock again."

Undeterred, Mordekai turned to his assistant with an excited smile. She nodded back with a small smile of her own, still looking nervous at the queen's agitation.

With a laugh Mordekai clapped his hands together. "Though it falls it will not fail!" His arms swung out wide with joy. "You must not fear this, Your Majesty. It is all part of Oron's plan. From its ashes two seekers will arise. Through earth, water, wind and fire, I will be found."

Athra was sure he recognized those words but could not place where he had heard them.

The queen, looking horrified, clasped her hands together. "Do not say such things to me. That prophecy is a myth. Everyone knows it."

The prophecy. They were lines from the ancient prophecy, rumoured to be sent from Oron himself. Athra nodded as he remembered whispered tales of how the god who descended to earth to save mankind from darkness had sent them a promise to do it again. People had not spoken of it for years.

He frowned as he took in the queen's panicked expression and his father's grave face.

Varon stepped towards the seer. "Two seekers?"

"Yes, Your Grace." Mordekai shuffled towards him. "The prophecy is very clear. The falling star is the catalyst that will result in the rising of the light. Oron will return to us. These two seekers will find him."

"Oron is dead!" the queen shouted. Realising her outburst, she smoothed down her dress and swallowed. "He died."

"No, Your Majesty, he did not. He came into this world to defeat Kohlac, the epitome of darkness, and when he did—"

"He died. He left us and the darkness came back into this land and it grows ever stronger." The queen slumped onto her throne.

Mordekai's eyes softened with compassion. "That is why he sent the prophecy, Your Majesty." Mordekai cleared his throat and raised his body tall. "Do not be afraid. I have not abandoned you. A time will come when darkness can no longer rule. Look for a diamond glowing in the north, though it falls it will not fail, for from its ashes two seekers will arise. Through earth, water, wind and fire I will be found. Even the smallest flame can shine in the black of night and the darkness cannot extinguish it. Even the smallest flame can ignite a fire that will burn with fury from one generation to the next."

The words, uttered with such passion, rang throughout the throne room. A whisper of hope stirred in Athra's chest.

"Ashan has forbidden any mention of the prophecy and you dare to recite it in my presence?" The queen slapped the arm of the throne and stood, her eyes wild.

"I speak what is true, Your Majesty. I do not fear the consequences, because I know my actions are right. Oron has a plan for this world, and I will do my part to see that it comes to fruition."

"Leave this city at once. That prophecy is nothing but a fallacy."

"Then why are we not allowed to speak of it?"

A thick silence followed Mordekai's soft statement.

Athra studied the faces of those present as they soaked in the words. He guessed what most were thinking. If this bald, old man was right, then maybe this was their chance to rid the world of Ashan's army and live in peace once more.

"The seekers you speak of, who are they?" Varon asked.

"We are not sure." Mordekai caught his apprentice's eye and was obviously frustrated that the next part of the prophecy had not revealed itself yet. "All we know is that the star will cause some sort of reaction and two seekers will arise. Were there any babes inside this rock? Any signs?"

Everyone looked to the queen, but her face was set like stone. She was shaking her head no, when Athra stepped forward. She raised her finger at him, but he could not hold back. This seer might know something that could help them.

"Please, Your Majesty. At least let him see her?"

Mordekai's eyes grew wide. "See whom?"

"He is not going anywhere near her." The muscles in the queen's neck were so tight, he thought they might snap. He looked away from her and pointed at the eager man beside him.

"But he might be able to help."

"Please, someone, tell me what is going on?" Mordekai's wrinkled hands shot into the air.

Athra turned to the two travellers. "I saw the star. I took a party of men to investigate and we found a large, black rock that contained moving beams of golden light. It was surrounded by small chips and pebbles. All have touched this substance and been fine." Athra swallowed.

"All except two." The almond-eyed girl finished for him. Stepping forward, she bowed her head and looked at him with kind eyes. "Are these two special, my lord? Do they have a special connection of any kind?"

"They were born on the same day, but they are not related."

"When were they born?"

Athra stilled as realisation lit the corners of his mind. His voice was barely a whisper. "Sixteen years ago."

Her eyes shone with promise as she turned to Mordekai. He shuffled up close to Athra, grabbing his arms and nearly shaking him.

"What was their reaction to touching the star?"

"They have both been very sick with fever and seem to be having nightmares that cause them to scream as if in pain."

"Take me to them immediately."

Athra nodded and turned for Kyla's chambers.

"You will do no such thing." The queen's granite voice sent a spike of anger through Athra's centre.

He whipped around to face her.

The queen's eyebrow rose emphatically. "He is not to go near my daughter."

Mordekai's mouth opened with surprise, then pinched tight in disappointment. Athra gritted his teeth and was about to launch into battle when someone from the edge of the room cleared his throat. Everyone turned to watch the solid man slowly limp forward.

"You may see my son." Benyamin's deep voice reverberated throughout the room. He gazed up at the queen with a look of utter respect but no sign of apology.

Unable to fight another round, the queen covered her mouth and turned away as they quickly exited the room.

Chapter 6

Mordekai followed the limping man out of the castle and across the city plaza. Being the middle of the night, the circular courtyard was completely empty. The contrast to Mezrah was staggering. He came from a square city filled with sharp angles, noise, lust and greed. The very air seemed to buzz with an evil he could not fathom.

The only square thing in Taramon was the towering monument in its centre, housing the famous crystal. The streets here seemed quiet and calm. An underlying fear seeped from the walls, but it was different to that of Mezrah's. This feeling seemed to be bred from a need to protect one's family. He shuddered to think what would become of this peaceful haven should Ashan get his hands on it.

A growing sense of excitement and urgency built within him as he was guided past the foot of the monument. The journey took longer than he would have liked, but he felt it would have been rude to overtake the crippled man. The injury appeared to be an old one. The man looked well used to walking with the thick piece of wood beneath his arm.

Thankfully the man's home was close to the queen's palace, so they did not have to walk far. Mordekai bustled in after Benyamin and was guided to a room laced with fear. Stepping towards the bed, he acknowledged the anxious woman beside it with a compassionate smile. Her long dark hair swung over her shoulder as she jerked with surprise and looked to the door.

"Benyamin?" she called.

The man limped in behind Mordekai.

"It is alright, Daniella. This man has come to help Jethro."

Her soft lips quivered with a smile, her face filling with relief as she moved away from the bed and allowed Mordekai access to her son.

"Thank you, my lady." He kept his voice low and gentle, knowing this frazzled mother could deal with no more. He patted her arm as she passed him.

Flicking his robes aside, he knelt by the bed and pulled the damp cloth from Jethro's head. Touching his hand to the boy's brow, he could feel the heat pulsing from his skin.

"Nikara. The herbs." He watched his petite assistant lower the bag from her shoulders and begin extracting two small pouches from inside.

"My lady, would you be kind enough to get some water?"

Daniella took the pitcher from the table and filled a cup. Her hands were shaking as she passed it to Mordekai.

"Do not fear, my lady. These herbs should help to break his fever."

"Thank you." Her eyes began to glimmer with tears as she stepped back to stand with her husband.

With the help of Athra, he propped the boy up and forced the elixir into his mouth. The boy choked it down, coughing and hacking, but eventually swallowing the mixture.

Soaking the rag, Mordekai wrung it out and placed it on the boy's head again. He studied him, surprised when his head started to thrash back and forth on the pillow.

His brows creased with concern as the boy began to whimper.

"Not again." Tears splashed from Daniella's eyes as she covered her ears and buried her head in Benyamin's chest. He wrapped his arm around her, his eyes filling with pain as Jethro began to scream.

The noise was agonising to listen to and worse to watch. Jethro's body writhed on the bed, his muscles so taut they looked ready to pop out of his skin. Mordekai was taken aback at first, wondering if the herbs were causing this, but his parents and friend looked as though they had seen this before.

With a confused frown, Mordekai studied Jethro's lips and movements.

"He's saying something." Mordekai leaned towards him. "Between the screams, watch his lips."

Nikara leaned over his shoulder and studied Jethro.

"Is he saying 'burning'?"

Athra cleared his throat and stuttered, "Wh-when he first touched the rock, he said he felt as though his arm was on fire."

"Hmmm." Mordekai's eyes narrowed. "His arms seem to be bothering him, don't they?"

Taking note of this for the first time, Athra watched Jethro's arms thrash and strain.

"Help me hold him, I need to see his arm," Mordekai said.

It was an effort, but Athra helped to steady Jethro's arm as Mordekai pushed back the boy's sleeve. A gasp escaped the old man's lips.

"Nikara, look at this."

Tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear, she leaned down further and studied Jethro's arm.

"It looks as though someone is scratching something into his flesh with golden ink. I can see it moving before my eyes."

Daniella stepped away from her husband and rushed to Athra's side. They both leaned over Jethro with round eyes. As he jerked and flailed beneath Athra's grip, they watched another stroke being formed on Jethro's forearm.

"What does it mean?" Daniella blinked at tears, wincing as Jethro let out a final wail and slumped down onto the bed, limp and exhausted. His skin was pale and shining with sweat, his mouth continuing to mutter words of burning fire. He was too weak to move, but Mordekai couldn't help guessing that if he could have, the boy would have wrapped his arms to his chest and curled into a ball.

With gentle hands, he removed Jethro's arm from Athra's grasp and ran his finger over the scratch marks. Jethro flinched.

"Nikara, does that look like a symbol to you?"

She bent her head around to study it. Three spiral curls pressed against one another, rising to three points, like candle flames. "Fire. It's the symbol for fire."

"Let me see his other arm." Mordekai's hands were shaking as he fought with the fabric. Pulling back the sleeve, he ran his thumb over Jethro's left forearm. The golden wounds were slightly older; they looked sore and swollen but were on the mend. Although distorted by the healing process, he could not be mistaken. A square shape with three dashes at the bottom and a spiral in the centre could mean only one thing.

"This is the symbol for earth."

He looked at Nikara and wanted to laugh and cry all in the same moment. He then turned to Benyamin. "I must see the girl immediately."

Athra ordered the guards back as they approached Kyla's door. His voice was so commanding the guards jumped without a second thought. The small group bustled into the room.

"Get out of here this instant." The queen pointed at the door. "Guards!" Her voice was shrill as she lifted her skirts and bustled towards them.

"It is okay, Your Majesty." Benyamin limped into the room, blocking the guards with his broad frame. They dared not knock over a man of the court, so stood waiting for further guidance from the queen. "He means her no harm."

The queen's slight body was rigid as she jerked back towards the bed. She flicked her hands at the guards, who silently returned to their post at the door.

"Has he healed Jethro then?"

"No, Your Majesty." Mordekai approached the bed with slow, cautious steps. "But I think I know what ails him, and I came to see if the princess might be the same."

Varon stepped up to the queen and took her arm, encouraging her to make way for the seer. With a nod of thanks, Mordekai stepped past the couple and stood beside the bed.

The princess lay limp on the pillow, her skin beading with sweat like Jethro's had.

"Nikara, prepare the herbs."

He listened to his assistant get to work, asking Athra for a cup of water. He couldn't take his eyes off the young princess. She was a beautiful creature, even when sickly. Like her mother she had high cheekbones and a delicate nose, but her face was longer, and even though her eyes were closed and her skin was pale, Mordekai could tell this girl had a tenacious spirit. For some reason a small smile tugged at his lips.

He touched his hand to her forehead.

"Has she been screaming?" he asked the lady on the other side of the bed.

"No, sir. Not since last night."

Mordekai nodded. "May I examine her arms please?"

"Why?" The queen stood at the end of the bed, her eyes narrowed.

"I need to see if they are similar to Jethro's." He lifted the girl's right arm and noticed only a few small scratches at the top of her wrist. Lifting the other, he inched back the sleeve and once again found wounds that were starting to heal. Studying the swollen scratches, he indicated for Nikara to join him.

"The symbol for water," she whispered. Her smile was shaky as she watched him lay Kyla's arm back on the bed.

"She will soon be getting the symbol for wind on this arm." He kept his voice low but could not conceal his knowledge. "You best prepare yourself, I'm afraid. There will be one more bout of screaming to come."

The queen's already white skin went nearly translucent. "How do you know this?"

"Through earth, water, wind and fire, I will be found."

"Stop talking in riddles! Tell me what you know!" The queen's face was bunched tight, and for a moment he glimpsed the petrified child within.

Mordekai gave her a compassionate smile. "I know you do not need to fear for your daughter's life. She will recover."

"How can you be so certain?"

He looked down at the bed, his smile growing wide with hope.

"Because I believe she is the second seeker."

Chapter 7

The counsel chambers were alive with debate. A weak Jethro leaned against the back wall, watching as the queen argued with the men around her. Throwing her hands in the air, she pushed away from the table, letting the chair topple behind her.

A royal guard quietly stepped forward and erected it, while she leaned against the table.

"This is madness! You cannot possibly be agreeing with this crazed man." She pointed at Mordekai, but kept her eyes trained on Benyamin.

"He is a seer, Your Majesty."

"Of Mezrah! Our enemy!"

"Whom you signed a treaty with." Benyamin's voice was firm, but calm. His eyebrows rose. "Your Majesty, I did not think you considered them enemies."

"Oh everyone knows we do." She wiped a delicate finger over her upper lip and looked away. "How can you be willing to send your son on such an absurd quest?"

"I have just watched him suffer greatly, fearing for his very life." Benyamin pointed to the back of the room and all eyes turned to Jethro. "But here he stands, recovered and with markings on his arms that will lead him to the light. I must let him go."

"You do not know for sure his illness had anything to do with the prophecy."

"Your Majesty?" Benyamin frowned.

"It was the seer's elixir that broke his fever. As soon as he administered it, Jethro started recovering."

"I am not a magician, Your Majesty." Mordekai spoke up. "The boy did not start healing until the markings on his arm were complete. It is not my doing. It is that of Oron."

"Oh, would you stop referring to him."

"He is our maker."

"Yes, yes, we all know the story of creation."

"And the story of him returning to defeat the darkness? You do not believe this?"

"Yes, of course I believe he returned to free the world...and yes I believe he defeated Kohlac. History is very clear." The queen rubbed the bridge of her nose, as if trying to eradicate an insistent headache.

"Then how can you deny the prophecy? If he saved this earth once, will he not do it again?"

"He shouldn't have to do it again." She slammed her hand on the table. "If he had defeated the darkness the first time, we wouldn't need a prophecy."

"The earth lived in peace for many years after the great war. Cities were rebuilt, hope came back into the land." Mordekai's voice rose with optimistic passion.

"And it is once again dying."

"That is why Oron is returning."

His argument was hard to refute, but the queen did her best anyway.

"In the most absurd way possible! We shouldn't need to send two children on some foolish quest. It's laughable! If Oron is real, then he is toying with us. How many years ago was the prophecy supposedly discovered? It is a farce."

Mordekai looked injured by her insults. His expression had the queen's face flashing with remorse. Taramon had always honoured and revered Oron. She cleared her throat and lifted her chin. Mordekai softened his voice, going for a quiet rebuttal. A wise approach.

"This prophecy that was buried, forbidden and supposedly forgotten has never fled our minds. Your Majesty, Oron wants to save us. We must allow him to do so."

"Oron does not care for his people like you say he does."

Jethro watched her eyes flash with sadness and knew she was referring to her late husband and the slaughter of their army.

"Then why the prophecy, Your Majesty? Why this gift, this chance to defeat the darkness?"

Returning to her seat, she pulled her chair closer to the table and kept her voice icy. "The prophecy is a mere poem created by someone to help their children sleep at night."

"You do not believe that."

The queen looked directly at Mordekai, her nostrils flaring.

"If we ignore these signs, we are giving ourselves over to fear. Ashan will only grow stronger. We must take this chance, now." He stood from his place and called out across the room. "May the light rise again."

Mordekai's sure words sent a wave of hope cresting over the room. Heads began to nod, and the queen could do nothing but soften her stance. Jethro watched her face crumple with panic before she found her composure. Her lips twitched as the words she knew she must say struggled to present themselves.

"Alright." She eventually sighed. "I will allow a small contingent to accompany Jethro to the first element. If that appears to be true, then he may continue."

"But, Your Majesty, we do not know where the first element is yet. I am trusting the seekers will be shown the way upon leaving. They both must go. And they must go alone. If Ashan gets wind of this, well, I cannot guarantee their safety."

The queen let out a hysterical laugh. "You cannot guarantee their safety either way!" She shook her head and cleared her throat, her icy tone returning. "Kyla is not going."

"Your Majesty," Mordekai appealed.

"No! I will allow Jethro to go, but my daughter stays where she is."

"Then we have failed before we have begun." Ephraim, the oldest on the council, stood to address the queen. "There is no point sending only one."

"I am not sending my only living child to look for something we are not even sure exists! In what form are the elements going to be presented? Fire? How will they face that?"

"We must have faith."

The queen's look was black as she faced Benyamin.

"Send your son, if you wish, but my daughter stays here!"

The queen slammed her fist on the table and the room seemed to erupt. Every councilman spoke at once, all needing to say his piece. Mordekai watched with dismay, occasionally adding his opinion into the mix.

Jethro didn't know what to think. Part of him couldn't wait to go. He felt honoured to be chosen by Oron, but also felt dwarfed by the mammoth task. One thing he knew for certain though, he didn't want to go without Kyla. He couldn't shake the sense that they must go together, as if it was their calling. He had often pondered the fact that they were unrelated twins. Maybe this whole thing was pre-destined by Oron himself.

He studied the upheaval around him and wondered what Oron would think of it all. No matter what anyone said, he was willing to go. He could not ignore the fire he had lived through in the past week. He just hoped Kyla felt the same way.

Glancing across the room, he watched Athra. His shoulders were tight, his back straight as a broadsword. Since Mordekai had surmised that Kyla was a seeker, a deep frown had been embedded on his face. Jethro guessed it would be the same way if he were in Athra's position. But this was Kyla. She was more than capable.

His lips pushed out with a glum smile and dropped with surprise as he noticed Athra's face take on an ashen quality. He turned in the direction of Athra's wide-eyed stare and watched Kyla walk into the room.

Standing tall, relief flooded through Jethro's body as she entered. Her head was held high, her chin jutting out. The room fell silent as people began to notice her. Eventually the only sound was the queen and Ephraim having their final standoff. Their voices cut short when they noticed Kyla standing beside them.

The queen jerked and placed a hand beneath her daughter's elbow.

"You should still be in bed. You are not well enough to be up."

"And miss all this fun?" A cheeky grin spread across Kyla's lips.

Her mother replied with a droll look.

"I could not let these arguments continue." Kyla's voice was soft, but firm. "The fact is, this decision belongs to none of you." Her eyes were glowing with that fiery look Jethro adored. "I am the keeper of my own mind," she found Jethro at the back of the room and locked eyes with him, "and I'm going."

He responded with a broad grin and his standard wink. She nodded and turned on her heel. She did not glance back once, even when her mother screamed that she was to do no such thing.

The ember of excitement resting in Jethro's belly ignited. Pulling back his sleeve, he ran his thumb over the symbol for fire and had to quell the urge to let out a loud whoop.

Chapter 8

Feeling as though she could fly, Kyla returned to her room. She wasn't sure why she felt so incredibly happy; if the seer was right, she'd soon be embarking on a potentially dangerous mission.

Maybe that was it.

She smiled to herself.

Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed the ever-present guards and rolled her eyes.

"Your services are no longer required. You may as well return to the council room."

They ignored her statement and continued marching after her. She spun on her heel to face them and put her hand out. They both slowed to a stop.

"Maybe you did not hear me. I no longer need you."

"I'm sorry, Your Highness," the guard on the right murmured, "but the queen has ordered us to not leave your side."

"I am going on this quest, whether she wants me to or not. So I repeat, your services are no longer required!"

They did not budge an inch. Neither of them would look her in the eye. Their heads were snapped to attention, their bodies forming a thick wall in front of her.

Kyla's fingers curled into fists. "I order you to leave me alone!"

"We cannot, Your Highness. Our orders are to not let you leave our sight."

"Arghh!" She resisted the urge to stamp her foot.

"Kyla?"

Athra's calm voice wafted over the guards' shoulders. They parted to let him through. As usual his calm presence stole all ignition from the air. She glanced up at his handsome face, noticing the dimple on his chin. It was just like Jethro's. He flicked a thick lock of dark hair out of his eyes and gazed down at her.

"What's going on?"

"My insane mother has ordered these buffoons to watch my every step," she mumbled darkly.

Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, he ran it down her arm and took her hand. "Here, let me walk you to your room."

She allowed him to do so, not wanting to take out her wrath on the one person in the castle who was actually nice to her. She didn't utter a word as they ascended the stone stairs and walked into her room. Sarah was nowhere to be seen, so Athra closed the door behind them and drew Kyla into an embrace. He kissed the top of her head; then he pulled her back and held her face in his hands.

"It is for the best, you know."

Kyla's eyes narrowed. What did he just say?

She flicked his hands off her cheeks and stepped away from him. "You don't want me to go."

"Of course I don't." He smiled. "I want you to stay here, safe...with me."

She shook her head with a scowl. "I thought you'd support my decision."

He stepped back and ran a hand through his hair, a little lost for words. His mouth opened a couple of times before he managed to utter, "Kyla, surely you're not serious. You don't even believe in Oron. I've heard you say many times that he doesn't exist."

"Well, maybe having symbols scratched into my arms has changed my mind." She lifted her sleeve so he could see the three spiral waves of her water tattoo. They crested over three curved lines, all contained within a perfect circle. The angry swelling had settled down and all that remained around the golden sketch were faint red marks. The skin still looked tender though. He reached out for her other arm and lifted the sleeve, studying the symbols for water and wind. Gripping her wrists, he looked at her with pleading eyes.

"Kyla, you can't go."

"Yes I can." She pulled out of his grasp and paced away from him. "I will find a way and not you or Mother or those useless guards out there can stop me." She pointed at the door.

Athra looked heartbroken by her fiery statement. She lowered her gaze and forced a slow breath through her nostrils. Striving for serenity, she met his gaze. "I do not want to leave without your blessing." She tried to unclench her teeth. "But I will, if I must."

The smile that started to spread over his lips at her initial statement fled as she finished. His eyes grew stormy as he pursed his lips.

"Your stubbornness will only get you hurt, you foolish girl!"

With that, he left the room. She knew she should feel offended by his insult, but she couldn't quite get there. He had a right to be upset with her, she supposed. If anything his anger was a sign he believed her, and rightly so. She walked over to the fireplace and kicked the cushions at her feet before nestling down into the flattened pile. She gazed into the amber flames and felt strength creeping back into her body. An ember of excitement began to burn.

*****

Athra stormed down the corridor, his mind in a maelstrom. How dare she openly defy him like that? How dare she defy the queen? Kicking the wall, he winced at his decision and hopped along for a few steps. Kyla was a stubborn fool. He did not understand her will to risk her life for something she did not believe in. Ever since her father died, she had been as hard as granite about her views on Oron, and now she was willing to just up and leave without a second thought?

He let out a frustrated groan and turned the corner, barrelling into a small figure. She fell to the ground with a soft gasp. Guilt flooded through Athra as he stood over her.

"I'm so very sorry." Leaning forward, he took her hands and helped her to her feet.

"I am not injured, my lord." She smiled, her slanted eyes filling with kindness.

"Athra." He swallowed. "My name is Athra."

Her white teeth appeared as she nodded. "Nikara."

Taking her hand, he placed his lips on her knuckles. "It is nice to finally meet you."

"I can see you are weary. It has been a hard week for you, my lord."

Athra let out a sigh. "It has."

"Mordekai told me Princess Kyla's decision. I cannot imagine she is taking kindly to her mother's refusal."

He scoffed. "Or mine."

He offered his arm to the small beauty, and she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. They began walking down to the main hallway. He was not sure how she was doing it, but the petite woman was calming his tattered nerves. He felt his muscles begin to relax, and his lips started moving before he could stop them.

"How can I let her go? We have no idea what this quest entails. The only thing we have to go by is the prophecy, which, forgive me, is very vague."

Nikara laughed. It was a soft, pleasant sound and he couldn't help smiling.

"Mordekai has always said it's open for interpretation, and I've often wondered why Oron couldn't have been a little more clear."

"Yes, what does he mean by the elements? Must the seekers endure a test of each element in order to find him? I do not understand."

"Sometimes we must step out in faith before we are shown the way. The seekers must begin their quest, and things will unfold before them."

Athra stopped and glanced down at her. His forehead crinkled as his lips turned south.

"I do not have your ability to trust in such mystical things so easily."

"Oh?" Nikara looked up at him. "And what do you believe in?"

"Unity. Compassion."

"And how will they rid the world of darkness?" She tipped her head, her eyes dancing with curiosity.

Athra grinned, elated at the fact he could talk so openly. "I believe that if men would band together, care for one another and work as one, then the darkness could not touch us."

"The darkness seems to be able to touch everybody."

"This is true, but darkness is fuelled by fear and evil, which cannot thrive in a place of love. A man can lay down his life to protect the ones he cares for. Darkness cannot defeat that."

"So you are saying that the power is in the unity of men."

"Yes." Athra nodded. "It is something tangible, something we can control."

"But the light is not?"

He let out a frustrated sigh and kept walking, pulling her along beside him. "No one has seen Oron. No one can hear him. All we have to go by is a whispered prophecy."

Nikara's smile was small and filled with understanding. "Trusting the unknown is a hard thing to do."

Athra felt his insides wilt. "But it is something I must do, isn't it?"

She squeezed his arm. "I think the fact Jethro and Kyla both seem so willing to go is a good sign."

He rolled his eyes. "You are a positive creature, aren't you?"

Her laughter bounced off the stone walls. "I am merely trying to encourage you."

They reached the stairs and began a careful descent. "Well, the queen will not like it, but maybe if a small party of us go, then it will be easier for her to bear."

Nikara halted her descent, tugging on his arm. "My lord, you mustn't."

"Mustn't what?"

"Go." She let go of his arm and stood tall. With her one step above him, they were nearly at eye level with each other. "The prophecy calls for two seekers and no more. Ashan's army will be able to find a group of you far more easily than just two. Mordekai and I were able to sneak to Taramon without detection."

"I took a party to the star and back without detection."

Nikara shone him a knowing smile. "How do you know that, my lord?"

Athra was taken aback by her soft question. "I...well, there has been no reaction to our findings. I just assumed..."

"Hmm." Nikara's eyebrows dipped together. "It takes nearly a week to travel from Mezrah to here."

"And?"

"I imagine Lord Safeer will not be too far away."

Athra's mood turned black as he thought of the austere man. His very presence reeked of arrogance and his insincere smile made Athra's blood curdle. He was the charming, handsome face of Ashan, but that did not take away the evil lurking beneath.

"If he sees you leaving the city, he will want to know why."

"We shall wait until he leaves again." Athra nodded.

"His suspicions will be aroused. They will be watching the city with very close eyes from now on."

"Then how will the Princess of Taramon get away?"

"It is easier to hide the absence of one important person, Athra. A lie can be woven to cover Kyla's lack of presence. She could be sick. Safeer would not have the audacity to enter her chambers, and he is too high and mighty to notice if Jethro is gone. But you...you are different, aren't you?"

Athra's stomach clenched. "How so?"

Nikara lowered her gaze.

"There are rumours in Mezrah. Safeer despises the future King of Taramon." She caught his eye. "And with you marrying Princess Kyla at the end of the year, I can only assume he is speaking of you."

"Rumours?" Athra forced a smile.

"You have stood up to the ambassador, have you not?"

He felt his cheeks begin to flame. "Maybe a time or two."

"Safeer does not like to be shamed in any way. He is always right."

"No, he is not."

"It is because you say such things that he looks for you when entering the city. Any chance he has to embarrass you is worth his time. Athra, your place is here and..." She licked her lips, looking contrite.

"Kyla's is not." He finished for her.

Her eyes were filled with sorrow as she nodded.

His forehead wrinkled. "How can I let her go? I can't bear the thought of her being out there and having no idea where she is or if she's alright."

"Is that your greatest fear, my lord?"

"Not knowing?"

She nodded.

"It's more the idea of not being able to help her if I must. If I cannot find her, I cannot be there for her."

A slow smile spread over Nikara's lips, filling her eyes with elation. Taking his hand, she squeezed it within hers. "My lord, I think I know how to help you." She turned back up the stairs and tugged his hand. "Come. I want to show you something."

Chapter 9

Jethro stood in his room doing a slow spin, scanning his bed and belongings to make sure he wasn't missing anything. It had been decided that he would go, but he now waded in a sea of doubt and was unsure how to swim out of it.

Kyla was on castle arrest. She now had four guards surrounding her at all times. He had tried to sneak in and talk to her yesterday, but there was no point. It had been a day and a half since the council meeting and the leaders of Taramon remained divided.

No matter how much debate raged, the queen would not be moved.

Her daughter was not going. It was that simple.

Walking to his bed, Jethro took stock of the weapons he had carefully laid out. His sword, knife, bow and a quiver full of arrows. Picking up the bow, he lifted it to the side of his face, took a fake shot across the room and slumped down on the edge of his bed.

As he'd tossed and turned the night before, part of him had been glad Kyla would not be able to join him. He had barely spoken to her in a year and to have to be in such close quarters would be awkward. But by the time dawn began to chase away the twinkling stars he was sitting on the opposite side of the fence, wishing with every heartbeat that Kyla was able to accompany him.

A smile toyed with his lips as his memories of past days and his imagination of the future merged into one. The fun they could have.

His smile dropped quickly as a few different thoughts assaulted him. Among them was the one that screamed, this is a serious quest that could take your life.

A noise at the door made him look up. He grinned.

"Father." He stood from his bed and returned the bow to its place.

"Nearly set?" Benyamin limped into the room. He looked sleep deprived, but a peace emanated from him that was almost contagious.

Jethro felt his agitation ease as his father slowly approached him.

"Mother is preparing some food for me, and then I think I will have everything I need."

"Levi is tending to your horse."

Jethro snickered. "No doubt with much complaining."

Benyamin tipped his head and smiled. "Only because he wants to join you."

"He is a child. He does not understand the dangers."

"This is true." Benyamin eased himself onto the edge of Jethro's bed. "But you cannot fault his heart or his courage."

Jethro picked up his knife and fiddled with the scabbard that would strap to his lower leg.

"Do you believe, Father? Am I doing the right thing?"

Benyamin looked thoughtful for a moment and then looked his son straight in the eye. "Jethro, you have been chosen by the God of Light to awaken a power that can save this land. It is an honour, son."

Jethro sighed and dropped the sheathed knife back on the bed. "When you left for war with King Heron, I thought it would be the end of Ashan's army. The threat would be annihilated and we could go back to living in peace. King Heron worshipped and revered Oron. I don't understand how he failed when he was such a good and upright man. So many dead." His face bunched with pain as he looked at his father's crippled leg. "So many wounded."

Benyamin rubbed his thigh with a glum smile. The man had barely survived. Jethro's mother had nursed him for months. At the age of eight, Jethro had suddenly become the man of the house. The family had suffered through years of Benyamin's depression. It was only when he was invited to join the queen's council three years ago that things began to improve. Jethro frowned at the memories and turned to his father.

"How do we know this is real?"

Benyamin held his breath and scratched the side of his face. "King Heron was a good king, but he was also an impatient one. He got the idea that we could defeat Ashan on our own. He was convinced Oron would agree without taking the time to really ask. He knew of the prophecy but chose to ignore it. I do not wish to speak ill of such an honourable man, but he made a mistake."

Jethro had never heard his father speak this way, and it nearly stole the air from his lungs. Since King Heron's death no one dared insult him. If the queen even heard a whisper of such treacherous chatter, there was no guarantee her sanity would remain intact. It was hanging by a thread as it was.

Jethro bunched his lips to the side and shrugged. "I can understand the king not being able to sit by and let Ashan take over this world."

Benyamin nodded. "I was a coward."

"What?" Jethro studied his father's sad expression.

"I felt it was wrong to attack when we did. Our army was powerful and strong, but we never studied our enemy. Our attack was mighty, yet so arrogant." Benyamin's kind eyes filled with sadness as he shook his head. "We underestimated the power of the darkness. We had all heard whispers of the prophecy, and we should have waited for the signs. I should have voiced my thoughts. I should have been more open about my faith...like Mordekai."

Jethro raised his eyebrows and chuckled. "He does seem very bold in his opinions."

"Not bold, son, convinced, passionate, unable to stay quiet because the fire of truth burns within him. He cannot contain it. That is a faith to aspire to." Benyamin's voice rang sure and true, his eyes burning with a hope Jethro had never seen before. He quite liked this side of his father and found himself instantly determined not to fail him.

"This is why you want me to go?"

Benyamin grinned. "I am not trying to fix my own mistakes by sending my son into danger. I am merely trying to believe in a god who once saved this world and his promise to do so again."

Jethro felt inspired by his father's passion...and Mordekai's. The old seer had visited him that morning, going through the prophecy in detail. He had listened with rapt attention, absorbing all he could. It was easy to feel alive and energized by the task ahead, but then he would think of going alone and his insides would grow restless and queasy.

"What is it, son?"

Jethro looked over at his father and sighed.

"How I can go without her?" He rubbed the back of his neck and began to pace. "The prophecy clearly says two seekers. I don't want to go alone."

"Then maybe you shouldn't."

Jethro turned to his father with a grin. "Are you suggesting I defy my queen?"

"I'm suggesting you consider who is the higher power?"

Jethro stood still, soaking in the statement. His brows drew together and his face pinched tight.

"The queen will have my head."

"Not if she doesn't catch you." Benyamin struggled to stand. Jethro reached to help him but was stopped by a stern look from his father. Stepping back like he had done many times before, he waited while his father slowly straightened himself. With a puff, he tucked the crutch beneath his arm. "Maybe Athra can help."

Jethro folded his arms. "Athra will never let Kyla go."

"Hmmm." Benyamin tipped his head. "Then I wonder why he is waiting for you by the fire?"

Dropping his arms to his side, Jethro's shoulders pinged back with surprise. He walked past his chuckling father and out into the living area. Athra sat by the fireplace listening intently to Sabine's story of her doll's adventures into the fairy woods and how the talking trees rescued her from the evil king.

Jethro grinned. Athra actually looked quite entertained, although he could not miss the worry lying beneath his cousin's soft smile.

Sabine finished her story with a flourish and Jethro applauded. She turned on Athra's knee, blushed and jumped to the floor at her mother's call.

"Hello, cousin." Jethro took the chair opposite him.

Athra nodded and sighed while clasping his hands in front of him. Defeat seeped from his core.

"What made you change your mind?" Jethro asked.

Athra punched out a hard laugh. "She may have four guards on her at all times, but her brain does not stop working. She's determined to go." He bit his lips together and then looked at Jethro, his eyes filled with desperate pain. "I don't want her to hate me."

His expression crumbled quickly and he glanced away. Jethro's eyes narrowed.

"Is that really the only reason?"

Avoiding eye contact, Athra studied the roof and then the fireplace.

"Safeer is on his way to the city. He will probably be here by tomorrow."

Jethro's insides ran cold. "Why? He's not due for another week."

"I'm guessing the star has something to do with it. Word would have reached him by now. He'll want to know what's going on."

"Do you think he'll be looking for Mordekai?"

"Possibly." Athra shrugged. "The seer does not think the powers of Mezrah will notice his disappearance, but Nikara is worried." Athra looked back at him. "I will make sure they are hidden away."

"And the queen?" Jethro tipped his head. "Will she agree to that?"

"She will be unavailable for comment." Athra's lips turned up with a smile.

Jethro chuckled. "Will she even know she has a visitor?"

"In this case ignorance will be her closest friend." Athra slapped Jethro on the knee and forced a smile. "It was Father's idea." Athra's smile faded. "I will offer to accompany Safeer to the star, and I will act as though it is nothing more than a strange piece of rock that has no effect on anyone or anything."

He was staring at Jethro's arms with a deep frown. Jethro rubbed his hand over his knees and cleared his throat.

"You must leave tonight. I will claim Kyla is sick and cannot be seen by anyone, and your absence will probably go unnoticed." His jaw clenched tight.

Jethro rubbed his fingers over his mouth and studied his silently agitated cousin.

"So you still haven't told me why you're going to help us."

Athra sniggered and clenched a handful of hair in his fist.

"All the people I care about most in this world believe in the prophecy. I respect the queen, but all of her decisions since King Heron's death have been made out of fear. I don't want to be like that."

Athra clenched his teeth together. Jethro watched the muscles in his face fight against each other as the black emotions rolled over him.

Shuffling forward in his chair, Jethro placed a solid hand on his shoulder.

"I will protect her, Athra. I will bring her home."

"I know, cousin." He looked up with a sad smile. "That is why I can let her leave."

*****

Raising the bow, Kyla pulled the string tight and closed her left eye. The target became sharp in her vision, and she pictured the arrow flying through the air and embedding in the wood. Taking a slow breath, she gently set the arrow free. It fired into the centre of the target with a satisfying swoosh and thwack.

Without so much as a grin, she collected up another arrow and reloaded her bow. She caught a guard shuffling in her peripheral vision and was tempted to aim an arrow at him.

Two days of suffocation was almost more than she could bear. Her stubborn mother was making her life a living hell. The only time Kyla was ever alone now was in her room at night, and even then, her lady-in-waiting was now stationed at the foot of her bed. The two ever-present guards would not move from their posts outside her door either. It was infuriating.

She had screamed, kicked, cursed, hurled things across her room, calmly argued, even pleaded, but it was no use. She was a prisoner in her own home. An angry fire burned within her and the arrow shot from her hand, missing the centre point by an inch. She scowled and snatched up another one.

"Don't forget to breathe."

She turned at Athra's quiet words and pulled back the string of her bow. He raised his hands in surrender when she aimed it at him and waited until his grin began to waver into a look of worry. Lowering the bow, she let him approach.

"I understand your anger," he began calmly.

"Athra, I really don't think you do."

She turned away from him.

"I have brought you a gift."

"Trying to win me over?"

"No." He sighed. "I know that look in your eye. You will not rest about this. You will not let it go and I know I can either lose this fight now or risk losing you forever."

Kyla stilled.

Clearing his throat, Athra touched her shoulder and made her turn to face him.

"You will come back to me, won't you?"

All she could do was nod.

His smile wavered as he leaned towards her and whispered in her ear, "Then this is a going away present."

Lost for words, Kyla stepped back to make sure he was telling the truth. His sad smile confirmed it. She wanted to jump into his arms with a kiss of gratitude, but she didn't want to give away his secret whisper to the guards. She quelled the urge by clasping her hands together.

She couldn't help an excited smile though. Athra pulled a small cloth from his pocket and gazed down at it. He would not look her in the eye as he passed it to her. With gentle fingers she unfolded the material to reveal a necklace.

Lifting up the leather strap, she studied the pale peach opal stone hanging from it.

"It looks like a tear drop. Athra, it's...it's beautiful. Where did you get it?"

He winced, looked away for a brief moment and then turned back to her with a shy grin.

"Did it belong to your mother?"

"Ah, no." He scratched the back of his neck. "I saw it." He cleared his throat. "And it made me think of you."

She wasn't sure why he was so embarrassed by such a sweet sentiment.

"I know you are not one for fine jewellery, but..." He took it from her and made her turn away so he could tie it behind her neck. "I thought you could wear it next to your heart, so you'll remember me."

Once he had finished, she turned to face him. He had never been good at expressing his emotions. The fact that he looked as though he wanted to cry made Kyla's heart squeeze. In an attempt to make him feel better, and dispel her own discomfort, she touched his cheek.

"How can I forget my husband-to-be?"

Lifting the necklace, he rubbed his thumb over the gem.

"Promise me you'll wear it against your heart...always."

She took it from him and shoved it beneath her dress, pressing it against her breast. "Always."

His eyes lit with a quick smile before turning serious again.

"And promise me you'll be safe...and if things start to go wrong or don't feel right...you must come back."

"I will."

Placing a hand on either side of his face, she tried to hide the excited nerves dancing through her. Forcing herself to look straight into his eyes, she rose on her toes and placed a firm kiss on his lips. Not caring that the guards were watching, she wound her hands around his neck and let him pull her against him. The kiss was long and a little luxurious. She was just starting to enjoy it when thoughts of the coming adventure began to skirt through her brain and she had to pull away.

As if coming out of a haze, Athra seemed suddenly aware of his surroundings again and cleared his throat, shooting an awkward smile to the nearby guard who was trying to suppress his chuckling.

Taking Kyla's hand, he pulled her close and whispered in her ear, "The final preparations are happening as we speak. You leave tonight."

She felt a jolt of pleasure and fear whistle through her insides. She squeezed Athra's hand. Turning to pack away her equipment, she allowed herself a small grin, which Athra would never see.
Chapter 10

It took an age for night to arrive, but finally Kyla lay in the darkness, fully dressed and ready to go. Her fingers drummed on the cover as she waited for the city to fall into slumber. She could hear the guards outside the door. She knew Sarah would be due back any moment. She had to sneak away now.

Easing out from beneath the covers, she felt her muscles quiver with nerves. Her mother would be horrified if she knew what her only daughter was about to do. The thought both thrilled and terrified Kyla. Part of her wanted to go just to spite her mother; another part hated the thought of letting her down, yet again.

Adjusting the trousers once belonging to her brother, she pulled on a pair of leather boots and attached a small dagger to her right leg. Athra had taken the other weapons that afternoon, and she could only hope he would be at the stables as promised.

Scrambling under the bed, she pulled out the sheets she had spent the afternoon tying together and rolled her eyes. She still thought it was absurd that she was escaping through the window. That's the sort of thing they did in fairy tales. Nevertheless, it was the only plan they could think of to get her out of her room. The window was the only unguarded exit.

Tying the sheet securely to the foot of her bed, she carried the bundle to the window and heard the door scrape open behind her. She froze on the spot, but then forced herself to turn with a look of pure innocence, her mind racing with how to take down her intruder.

"Have you not gone? You must hurry." Her lady-in-waiting bustled towards her.

Kyla jerked. "Sarah, you knew?"

The stout woman gifted her a kind smile that began to sheen with tears. Wrapping two chubby arms around her, Sarah squeezed the breath from Kyla.

Unable to resist, Kyla dropped her bundle and squeezed back. "Oh, Sarah."

"It is okay, Your Highness. All will be well, but you must go now. I feel movement in the city, which is unnatural for this hour. The queen has the guards patrolling every corner, you must be careful."

Collecting the bundle from the floor, she threw it out the window before pulling Kyla into another firm embrace.

"Stay safe, my sweet child."

"I will." Easing out of her nursemaid's arms, she placed a kiss on each of Sarah's chubby cheeks.

A scrape at the door sent her tummy muscles into frenzied knots.

"I'll take care of it." Sarah pushed her towards the window. "Just go...go."

Kyla watched Sarah bustle towards the door before climbing to the ledge and lowering herself out the window.

"Everything is fine and it would be most inappropriate for you to come and check on the princess at this hour."

Sarah's voice faded as Kyla descended the castle wall. Her arms were burning as she carefully negotiated the slippery stone. Her boot slipped and she swung towards the wall, smashing her shoulder into it. She bit back a cry and clenched her teeth. Her slight arms clung to the fabric, she breathed a few quick breaths before righting herself and continuing the descent at a slower pace.

As the ground drew near, she let go of the sheet and landed like a cat on all fours. With her fingers pressed to the ground, she readied herself to spring forward and run when a hand clamped over her mouth.

Kyla fought and flailed, ready to bite the hand that held her when she heard, "Kyla, stop it!" Jethro's whispered words were forceful.

She immediately relaxed in his arms and then struggled free. Spinning around, she was about to lay into him with a whispered diatribe when she noticed Mordekai standing next to him.

The elderly man grinned in the moonlight. "We wanted to ensure your safe descent. Shall we proceed?"

Nodding, she followed the men to the stables.

It was a stilted journey, with the trio having to scurry back and hide in castle crevasses on more than one occasion. Finally the stables came into sight. They quietly scuttled towards the wooden structure and ducked inside.

At the end stall stood Athra and Nikara, a horse's reins in each hand. As Kyla approached, she noticed that both horses were fully equipped with all the supplies they would need. Athra passed her a belt and scabbard in grim silence. She quickly attached it around her waist then took the sword from him. Sliding it into the scabbard, she proceeded to collect her quiver of arrows and her bow. She attached them all with practiced efficiency.

Stepping towards her, Athra leaned down and whispered, "Are you wearing it?"

"Next to my heart." She smiled at him.

He forced a smile of his own, before placing a solid kiss on her lips. She could sense his internal battle as his soft lips crushed into hers. She didn't have the heart to pull away from him, so let him kiss her until someone cleared his throat.

"You must hurry," Mordekai whispered from the door of the stables. His urgent voice set a small panic sizzling through Kyla's system.

As Athra let her go, Kyla glanced at Jethro. His face was pinched and tight, his eyes staring at Mordekai's back. Feeling embarrassed by Athra's passionate display, she tucked a stray curl behind her ear and stepped toward her horse, Neema.

"It's okay, girl. We're just going for a little ride." She stroked her mane and soothed her jitters with a few soft murmurs. Neema had always been so sensitive to her mood and she loved her for it.

Placing her foot in the stirrup, she pulled herself into the saddle. Jethro glanced at her and calmed her nerves with his classic wink. She grinned back and then turned at Athra's hand on her thigh.

"Don't stop until dawn. You need as much distance between here and the city as you can. As soon as the queen hears of this, she is bound to send whatever guards she can spare to collect you."

"I know."

Athra reluctantly let go of her leg and stepped back as Mordekai shuffled towards him.

"The coast seems clear. You best leave now." He drew in a quick breath. "This is a very special task you have been set. Do not forget the importance of it. Keep your eyes and ears open to all possibilities. I do not know what form the elements will be presented in, but trust that Oron watches over you." Mordekai's eyes shone with passion. "May the light rise again."

Jethro repeated his words. His confident voice almost making her believe it.

Taking up the reins, she took a moment to study Athra's face. He shone her another smile filled with tenderness. She was hardly versed in the ways of love, but couldn't help wondering if that was what she saw right now. She swallowed and smiled back. With a quiet hiss, Jethro set his horse moving forward, and she followed before she could change her mind.

They snuck out of the city through the north-west gate. There was no guard in sight. Kyla frowned.

"He is indisposed," Jethro whispered.

"Where?"

"Somewhere in the stables. Athra was taking care of it for us. Don't fear, Kyla, he is not dead, but he shall have an aching head in the morning."

"Poor man."

"It is all for a good cause." He grinned.

Once they were through the gate, they let their horses amble along the edge of the wall in a bid to keep their departure as quiet as possible.

Jethro pulled his horse to a stop in the shadows on the edge of the northern forest and looked to Kyla. She could only just make out his wry expression in the dim moonlight.

"So, where to now?"

"I have no idea." She shrugged.

The reality of their quest began to sink in, and the excitement Kyla had been feeding off scurried into hiding.

"The prophecy said through earth, water, wind and fire, right?"

"Yes."

"Do you think it will go in that order?"

"Makes sense to me." Kyla tried to sound confident but wasn't sure it was coming through.

Jethro pulled up his right sleeve and studied the symbol for earth. "So how do we find you?" he whispered to the symbol while running his finger over the spiral in the centre of it. As if ignited by the question, his arm began to glow. Kyla nudged her horse towards him and watched in wonder as golden swirls leaked down from the square, moving over his arm in dashes and squiggles.

"Does that hurt?"

"No." Jethro sounded surprised.

"What is it drawing?"

"A...a map." Jethro's voice caught. "It's a map. Kyla, look!" His excitement was contagious. She leaned out of her saddle and studied the markings on his arm.

"Those are the great canyons to the west." She pointed across the vast prairie lands that lay just to the south of where they were.

Jethro grinned. "Then west we go."

Grabbing the reins, he steered his horse in the right direction and took off at a gallop. Kyla chuckled as she gave her horse a light kick in the side and took off after him.

*****

Athra watched two dark shadows race towards the prairie lands. Nikara and he had made a beeline for the north-west turret as soon as Kyla and Jethro had left. They wanted to make sure it was guard free.

"So off they go," Nikara murmured.

Athra's mouth was set in a grim line as he nodded.

"How do you think the queen will react when she finds out what we've done?"

Dropping his head, he ran a hand through his thick locks and sighed. "Hopefully it will take her a few days. I don't want to think about that just yet."

Nikara squeezed his shoulder. "Everything will be okay. You have done the right thing."

He still wasn't sure he believed that. The speeding shadows merged with the darkness and his stomach clenched. He could no longer see his princess.

"Will the necklace work?"

"I have been quietly studying this magic since I came to Mordekai. He knows nothing of it, and I don't know if he'd approve, so we must keep this hidden. You didn't tell her, did you?"

"Of course not. She thinks it is a farewell gift." He grimaced.

"Good. This must remain our secret."

"Will the spell work?"

"As long as she keeps the gem next to her skin, we should be able to track her."

"I told her to wear it against her heart." His voice cracked.

Nikara let go of his shoulder and pulled out a large parchment from her robe. She unrolled the map. Athra held the torch above it as she pointed at the black splotch of ink. It pulsed on the map, heading towards the western prairies at a fast pace.

"There she is, Athra. This mark is pulsing in time with her heartbeat."

He leaned closer to the map, studying the lines and symbols, and then focussing on the pulsing black splotch.

His lips contemplated a smile.

"You cannot lose her now."

For the first time since discovering Kyla was a seeker, Athra felt as if he could bear this. If he knew where she was, everything would be okay.

Chapter 11

Flicking back his thick robes, Safeer mounted the palace steps, his chin held high. It had been a long ride back from Taramon. He had chosen to ride his horse ragged and had made it back to Mezrah in four days. The beast was near dead, but this news was of the greatest importance. King Ashan would not want to be kept waiting.

Ignoring the greeting of a passing nobleman, he glared at the guard who was too slow in opening the great palace doors.

Safeer walked through the gleaming atrium, passing the carved pillars and beautiful pools that decorated the open space. His boots clicked over the ornate tiles, but he didn't glance down to admire them like he usually did. He was too busy worrying about how he would word his message.

It had taken three days to discover Mordekai's disappearance. The old man was crazy, but Ashan liked to keep an eye on him. Safeer had been irritated that the wily man had snuck away without his knowing.

Stopping outside the intricately carved doors of the throne room, he studied the images of intertwining snakes and beasts as he went through his speech one last time. Clearing his throat, he nodded at the heavily armed guard, who silently opened the door without making eye contact, as he should.

Safeer entered the dimly lit room and paused, letting his eyes adjust. The bright airiness of the atrium was in complete contrast to the smoky darkness King Ashan loved to abide in. The smell of incense was pungent, burning Safeer's nostrils and making his eyes water.

Lifting his chin, he straightened his robes and tried to look confident as he approached the opulent throne. Ashan lounged in the plush chair, his black eyes filled with lust as he watched two dancers undulating in front of him. Their lithe bodies gyrated to the rhythm pulsing from the edge of the room. A greedy smirk flared over Ashan's lips as a dancer drew near, her belly ring gleaming against her dark skin. He licked his lips. The young girl gave him a reluctant smile as she shifted away from him.

Clearing his throat, Safeer waited while the king flicked his hand and the girls were dismissed. They took a seat among the rest of Ashan's harem, who silently lounged on cushions while they awaited their next instruction.

The king's eyes were dark and deadly as they shifted to Safeer.

"I can only assume your interruption is of the greatest importance." Ashan's gravelly voice made Safeer swallow.

"It is, my king. I have news of Mordekai."

The hulking man shifted in his throne, his gnarled hands gripping the armrest. "Where is he?"

"In Taramon."

"Is the girl with him?"

"Yes."

"How do you know this?"

"They tried to hide him from me, but I have connections within the city. I have played along for now. It is better if they think they have the upper hand."

"And why did the crazy fool go to the northern city?"

Looking to the floor, Safeer tried not to let his voice shake. "Mordekai often spoke of a star. He believed it was the diamond of the north."

Ashan's eyes flashed red before settling back into a black simmer. "The diamond is in the Tower of Taramon."

"Yes, my king."

"Then why do you look so nervous?"

Safeer licked his lips, closed his eyes and forced a calm he did not feel. Pushing back his shoulders, he straightened his back and refused to let Ashan fuel any kind of fear.

"A star fell from the sky twelve days ago. It landed in the northern forest, beyond Taramon."

Ashan stood, his broad frame towering over Safeer as he approached him, one slow step at a time.

While most men tended to stop growing once reaching adulthood, Ashan's body had continued to expand. Every year he seemed a little taller, his muscles that much larger. Veins popped from his broad neck, running with black blood, and eyes that were once the colour of nutmeg were now a blacky-red. Safeer had known Ashan all his life and in those thirty-five years, he had watched him change from man to beast.

He knew it had something to do with Nafeez, a sorcerer who lived in the heart of the Black Forest. His translucent body would shuffle into Mezrah every new moon, delivering an inky elixir that steamed with black vapour. Safeer had heard whispers that it was made from the ash of Kohlac's disintegrated body, but he was never sure whether to believe it or not.

In moments such as this he was forced to admit that it was more likely truth than fiction.

Refusing to cower away from Ashan, he locked eyes with his ruler and waited.

"Did you see it?"

"Yes. The little brat, Athra, took me out there, acting as if it were nothing more than a rock."

"But you think he is lying."

Safeer swallowed.

"My king, two seekers left the city the night before I arrived. They have been instructed to search for the elements."

"Seekers?" The gravel in his voice grew thick. "From the prophecy?"

"It is believed so."

"How do they know this?"

"Apparently they reacted to the star and their bodies are now imprinted with tattoos of the elements."

A low growl grew in Ashan's throat like a brewing volcano and erupted across the room. "WHAT!"

The harem girls covered their ears as he emitted a mighty roar. Safeer refused to turn away from it, not wanting to give into his fear. His face was sprayed with angry spittle, and he only just dodged the flaming torch that was thrown in his direction.

It landed on the thick rug behind him, the fabric igniting. Two guards rushed forward and stamped it out while Safeer continued staring at his ruler. He knew better than to look away.

King Ashan sounded like a rabid bear as he stood by his throne, chest heaving and shoulders hunched with rage. Safeer waited until the roaring breaths had calmed enough to be heard.

"My king, we do not need to fear this. Oron is a foolish god."

"He destroyed Kohlac."

"That may be so, my king, but the darkness was not defeated. It lives on within you now. You are a mighty master, far greater than Kohlac ever was."

This was not true, but neither was going to admit it. King Ashan's shoulders straightened as he listened to Safeer's soothing voice.

"If this prophecy is really from Oron, then he has made a fatal error."

The red in Ashan's eyes began to diminish as he turned to his ambassador.

"The seekers are mere children, sixteen years of age. They are incapable of battle. They have no training. They have no idea how to even find the elements or what form they will come in." Safeer puffed his chest out. "Your time is drawing near, my king. The seekers will fail and this prophecy will be proven false. I have already sent trackers to follow them."

A cruel smile slowly crept across the king's face.

"Follow? Don't you mean destroy?"

The king's smile grew as a rumbling chuckle bubbled from his throat. Safeer could not quite bring himself to laugh, but he did enjoy the luxury of a triumphant smile.

Once the seekers were dead, Ashan would stop fearing this ludicrous prophecy. They would finally march on Taramon, destroy the tower and take the land as their own. And surely King Ashan would need someone to rule the northern city. A trusted ambassador would be the perfect choice.

Safeer's insides began to bubble with glee. The two seekers would be dead within a week and Taramon would be ripe for the taking.

Chapter 12

Jethro unstrapped his saddlebag and rummaged for an apple. Biting into the bright red skin, he enjoyed the crunchy sweetness as he sauntered over to the lush grass Kyla was lying on.

"Does your backside hurt?"

Jethro stopped mid-crunch and tried not to laugh. "That is hardly the kind of question a princess asks a member of her city."

She opened her eyes and shot him a dark look. "No, it's the kind of question a friend asks another."

He took a large bite of apple to avoid having to respond. He didn't want to go down the "why have you stopped talking to me" path today. Thankfully she hadn't hinted at it so far in their journey, but he knew it wouldn't be long. He had no idea what he was going to tell her.

He slumped down beside her and winced.

She drew herself up onto her elbows and looked at him. "You could have just said yes."

He couldn't help a chuckle. "When was the last time you sat in a saddle for this many days on end?"

"It's only been five." She lay back down with a sigh.

"Nearly six."

"I wonder how long this journey will take us?"

He swallowed his mouthful and glanced at her. He wasn't sure and he didn't honestly know if he wanted the quest to last or be over as quickly as possible. Chewing slowly, he studied her from the corner of his eye.

Kyla lay in the grass, her long braid a tangled mess behind her. As she gazed up at the clear, blue sky, Jethro thought she was a picture of pure contentment. He couldn't quite figure out why. They were on a very dangerous mission, and although the last few days had been uneventful, riding over the open plains, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was the lull before a very big storm.

He kept his thoughts to himself and took another bite of apple. Studying the western sky, he finished chewing and said, "I'm guessing we'll be at the edge of the Canyon Lands by nightfall."

She shaded her eyes against the sun and looked over at him. "How do you know that?"

"Unlike some people, I paid attention to my geography tutor."

Kyla wrinkled her nose with a frown and looked back up at the sky. "It still doesn't tell us how we're supposed to find these elements once we reach the Canyon Lands."

"We'll find them."

"How?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "I just know we will."

Kyla rolled her eyes while he took another bite of his apple. Munching the white flesh around the core, he finished it off in two more nibbles and threw the remains into the open field. He watched it arc high and wide before landing in the distance. The ants would enjoy their supper tonight.

Unable to resist, Jethro pulled back his shirtsleeve for the hundredth time and studied the glowing map on his arm.

"Maybe once we reach the canyons the next part of the journey will be revealed." Kyla's soft voice caught his attention. He turned to find her cheek perched on his shoulder. As much as he wanted to stay this way, he shrugged her off and stood.

"Well, let's get on with it then."

He pushed her over as he rose from the ground. She grabbed his foot as he went to walk away, tripping him up. He landed with a thud and was tempted to repeat the favour as she walked past him with a smug grin. He made his hand into a fist and pushed himself off the ground, an ever-present warning skirting through his mind. He hated it, but he couldn't ignore it.

Having fun with Kyla was not part of this journey.

He watched her mount Neema in one fluid motion and cursed the feelings battling their way to the surface. He clamped them down and turned away from the brown-eyed beauty in order to mount Hava. As soon as they were set, they began their trip east once more.

For some reason, Kyla didn't seem in a hurry today. Maybe it was the fine weather or the cool breeze making her stray curls dance, but there was a sense of summer about the day. Jethro breathed in a lung full of air and smiled.

"It's so beautiful out here, isn't it? I can't believe I've never seen this before. I wonder what the Canyon Lands will look like." Kyla's eyes danced with excitement.

"I guess we'll soon find out." In spite of himself, he shot her a wink and grinned. Clearing his throat, he sat up in his saddle. This trip was going to be torture. Having been together nearly a week now, he had fooled himself into thinking things wouldn't be too bad. They had both been living on adrenaline, and an unspoken fear had had them riding in silence most days. But today had felt different. Curse the sunshine. It was making them too relaxed, and he couldn't let himself fall into this trap. Athra was his cousin, not to mention one of his closest friends.

Jethro bit his lips together and kept his eyes on the eastern horizon.

"If you could go anywhere, what parts of this world would you want to see the most?"

He glanced at Kyla and shrugged.

"Oh come on, Jethro! What about the Forest of Gesham or the Jahara Mountains? Have you ever wanted to see Mezrah? I mean, I know it's this evil city, but aren't you the least bit curious? And what about the Seran Sea? An entire ocean of water. The most I've ever seen is the northern lake, which admittedly is very big, but..." She wrinkled her nose and her head snapped up again. "And the creatures. I mean, I've heard there are actually polar bears in Doran that are so strong and ferocious, they can rip your face off with a single swipe."

Jethro chuckled. "I never imagined visiting the southern city."

"Why not? The palace is made of ice, Jethro, and it looks out across a frozen desert. It would be like nothing we've ever seen."

Her eyebrows rose as if very impressed. Jethro couldn't help grinning at her.

"So you were paying attention to your tutors."

Kyla grinned and shrugged. "Only to the ones that had something interesting to say." She let out a happy sigh. "Jethro, if I could, I'd see every nook and crevice of this earth."

The gleam in her eye quickly faded. He was about to ask why when his stomach clenched tight with warning. He pulled Hava to a stop.

"What is it?" Kyla turned in her saddle.

"Do you hear that?"

She went still and strained to hear what he was talking about. He held his breath and forced himself to focus. There it was again, a low, faint rumble, like the pounding of hoofs on the earth. Kyla's eyes bulged wide and she stood up in her saddle.

"Riders," she whispered, pointing to the distant east.

Jethro spotted their small black forms as well, but couldn't see if they were men of Taramon or Mezrah. Either way, they needed to get out of sight.

"We need to get to the trees, we're too easily seen out here."

Kyla gazed at the approaching threat, worry scouring her features.

In an attempt to lighten the mood like he always did, he pointed to a thick clump of trees in the north-west. "We can make it there before they see us. I'll race you."

Knowing the challenge would distract her, he kicked his horse and bolted. She was on his tail in an instant. He turned to glimpse her face. Her smile was broad, her eyes gleaming with determination, as she sat in her saddle with the ease of someone who'd been riding for years.

A distant shout sent a thrill of fear coursing through his centre. Hava pranced and jolted in response and then put on a new burst of speed.

They thundered into the thick clump of trees. Pulling on Hava's reins, he came to a stop in a dark patch of forest and turned to watch Kyla entering behind him. The sound of hoof beats grew ever closer.

"I think they spotted us. We need to keep moving as quietly as we can." He kept an anxious eye on the edge of the prairie, waiting for their inevitable capture. "Do you think they are the royal guard? What do you think they'll do with us?"

Kyla shrugged, pulling her cape a little higher around her neck. She nudged Neema further into the shadows. Jethro made room, keeping his gaze on the treeline.

"Maybe we don't need to move. If we stay quiet then the riders might pass us by," he whispered.

Kyla responded with a sniff. He glanced at her. She was sitting straight in her saddle, her nose in the air and her lips turned into a pout. She no longer looked that concerned about capture and he couldn't quite believe it.

His confused frown soon turned into an exasperated eye roll. "Surely you jest."

"What are talking about?" She glanced at him.

"You're more upset about losing a silly horse race than being captured by unknown riders."

"I am not." She looked away from him and Jethro couldn't hold back a snicker.

"You never can bear losing, can you, Princess?"

"Don't call me that." She whipped around to face him. "And I can bear it. What I can't bear is that smug look on your face. Just because you're a boy doesn't mean you can always beat me."

Soothing his jittery horse with a calm hand on his neck, he spoke softly. "I've been beating you most of my life, Your Highness."

"You won't forever. I've beaten you in a fair fight more than once. I can do it again." She dismounted Neema and held the reins close, stroking the mare's mane.

"Oh really? I would have thought you'd be a little out of practice." Jethro smirked.

"And whose fault is that?" Kyla shot him a dark look.

Jethro's eyebrows dipped together. How could he respond to that? He could hardly tell her the truth. The sound of a snapping twig brought them up short. They both held their breath and went statue still, huddling together in the darkness.

"I thought I saw them head in here."

"Are you sure it was them?"

The two deep voices sounded tired and agitated.

He wanted to tell Kyla to mount her horse again; they may need to make a run for it at any moment. Another twig snapped and he rose in his saddle to spot the top of a guard's helmet.

Hunching low, he whispered softly, "It's the royal guard."

Kyla's head whipped up to look at him. Anger was flashing in her brown eyes, making them dark and threatening. "Mother," she muttered.

He placed his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her. It didn't work; instead, she silently slid her bow out from her saddle and reached for an arrow. With the quiet finesse of a seasoned hunter, she loaded her weapon.

"What are you doing? You can't shoot a royal guard!"

She ignored his whispers and aimed her arrow at the armour that was bobbing towards them.

A thick sword sliced through the bush in front of them. Jethro unhooked his boot from the stirrup and nudged Kyla gently in the back. Her aim didn't waver, and he was about to jump down and wrestle the bow from her hands when she suddenly changed direction. With a soft flick, the arrow went shooting through the forest to the east, landing with a loud thwack.

"What was that?" The guard sounded nervous. The tip of his sword rose into the air.

Kyla pulled another arrow and sent it flying, then another.

"Sounds like arrow fire."

"From where?"

The agitation in the guard's voice was growing and Jethro reached for his sword, pulling it softly from the scabbard. He did not want to fight his own city's guards, but he would if he must. The quest was underway and he wouldn't turn back now. His heart wrestled with the different outcomes as he swallowed and gripped his weapon.

Kyla sent another arrow sailing to the east. This time the guard stopped and turned towards the sound.

"Is it coming from over there?" His sword tip pointed in the direction the arrow had flown.

"We best go look. I don't want to face the queen's wrath if we return empty handed."

"Imbecile princess. It's been four days of pushing our horses to the limit. We can't go on like this much longer." The guard growled.

"We'll find her, Farris, then drag her home by her pigtails." His laughter was low and unpleasant as he moved east.

Jethro glanced down at Kyla then quickly jumped from his horse. He landed with a soft thud and rushed to her side, forcing her sword to remain in its sheath.

"Don't," he whispered.

He wrestled to hold her sword in place until the guards had moved away. He let go of her hand and sheathed his weapon.

"We need to keep moving. It won't take them long to figure out the arrows were a diversion. The sooner we get to the canyons the safer we are."

"What makes the canyons so safe?" she whispered while watching him mount Hava.

He held his finger to his lips and flicked his head at Neema.

Kyla let out a frustrated sigh and mounted her horse. With a soft nudge, they led the horses away from the dark patch and began weaving through the thickest parts of the forest.

It took a while for Jethro's nerves to settle. He knew the guards would be on them again at any moment, but he pressed forward quietly, trying to ignore his fears.

Kyla sulked as she rode behind him. He ignored her. He had to focus on where they were. He didn't want to get lost. Glancing up through the trees, he tried to spot the sun but struggled. They needed to get out in the open again so he could find his bearings. He turned towards what he thought was the right direction and beckoned for Kyla to follow him.

"Why do you get to make all the decisions?" She looked like a petulant child as she frowned at him.

"Excuse me?"

"We could have taken those guards."

"And done what with them? Sent them home with a smack on the hand?"

"We could have tied them up."

"And left them to rot?"

Kyla scowled at him.

"Besides, Kyla, these are trained guards of Taramon. They can fight a lot better than you can."

She bustled up beside him as they entered a patch of forest where the trees were sparser.

"You don't know everything, you know. A girl can still find a way to wield a sword if she must."

Her quiet statement snatched his attention. He looked at her with wide eyes that rapidly narrowed. "You have not been training with someone."

She raised her nose in the air, looking smug.

"Who? Athra?"

Her expression crumpled to one of derision. "Hardly. I'm sure he'd die if he knew."

She looked to the ground, her cheeks blooming with colour.

Jethro shook his head as he suddenly figured out who would be the only other person fool enough to teach her.

"You didn't."

A chortle skittered out of her mouth. She clamped her lips together and looked up at him through her thick lashes.

"Levi? He's twelve years old."

"And a very good fighter." She raised her chin. "You never give your brother the credit he deserves. Your father's lessons are just as useful coming from him as they were from you. Possibly even better."

He glowered at the insult.

"You are unbelievable."

"Don't you mean adorable?" She tipped her head, looking exactly that.

"No, I really don't." He had to force his lips into a straight line and ended up frowning deeply in order not to grin back at her.

"You know that frown does not become you, Jethro."

Without meaning to, he pulled a face, which brought on an eruption of giggles. They laughed together for a moment, but then that familiar pain sliced through him and he swallowed. Glancing through the forest, he spotted an opening in the trees and the prairie lands beyond.

"I need to check my bearings. I think we're far enough away from the guards for it to be safe now."

She followed him without complaint. Nearing the edge of the trees, they slowed down and peeked out into the prairie. It was clear in all directions, so they moved into the sunlight and Jethro orientated himself once again.

"This way." He pointed to the sun, which was slowly beginning its descent for the day. "We should make it to the edge of the canyon by nightfall. Hopefully we can find a place to hide for the night. Stay close to the treeline as you ride."

Kyla nodded and dug her heels into Neema's side. The horse leaped forward and galloped away. Jethro watched her lithe body move forward in the saddle. It took him a moment to get moving. Gripping his reins, he nudged Hava forward.

"She's not yours, Jethro," he muttered. "Think of Athra."

Pressing his lips together, he kicked Hava to catch up with the princess and made sure his head was filled with images of his cousin. A fresh wave of guilt washed over him as he thought of his moments of laughter with Kyla. He could only imagine the contrast it was to the time Athra was no doubt having. He winced. The queen obviously knew of their escape. He could only imagine how intense her wrath would have been...and probably still was.

Chapter 13

The guards held Athra's arm in a vice-like grip as they half dragged him to the counsel chambers.

"I can walk on my own," he muttered.

They ignored him and kept pulling. He was too exhausted to resist them. Thrusting the door open, they practically threw him inside. He stumbled and banged into the table. He leaned against the solid oak, ashamed by such an entrance. With as much dignity as he could muster, he straightened his clothing and flicked the hair from his eyes.

"Bring him to me." The queen's voice was cold and clipped.

The guards grabbed his arms again and hustled him to the head of the room. Instead of sitting at the table with the men, like she usually did, the queen had chosen to reside on the raised dais.

Athra sensed the queen's desperate need to appear powerful in this moment. He could hardly blame her. Thanks to a few threats, a little money changing and plenty of whispered agreement, the queen had remained clueless to Kyla's disappearance for nearly a day. In fact, if she hadn't spotted Safeer leaving the city, she would probably have remained clueless for much longer. As soon as she saw Athra bidding farewell to the arrogant ambassador, she had ordered the guards to drag him to her private offices and explain everything.

Her screams of rage had been petrifying. It had taken all his powers of persuasion to convince her not to send every guard in the city after the princess. The queen finally acknowledged that they did not have the guards to spare, especially now that Safeer would be watching the city with an eagle eye.

He thought it was over after her calm admission, but then she began badgering him on details of who else was involved in this scheme. As hard as Athra tried, the queen would not believe he had acted alone. Poor Sarah had been sent out of the city to live with her parents on the outer farmlands. Mordekai and Nikara were on the brink of banishment.

In spite of his pleas, she learned Kyla had snuck out through the north-western gate. The queen had immediately sent two guards to bring her home.

Athra had been locked in his room waiting for news, but so far nothing. The guards had not returned and all that awaited him now was his trial. He had no idea of the outcome, but he held his weak head high in the hopes the queen would see reason.

Gulping back his nerves, he cleared his throat and bowed his head. "Your Majesty."

She replied with a stony glare.

"Lord Athra, you are on trial for lying to your queen, aiding the escape of the princess, bribing the guards and hiding the presence of Mezrah's ambassador from me. For this, you must be punished."

"This is ridiculous!"

Athra closed his eyes as his father's voice rang throughout the room.

"He has just spent the last five days locked in his room with no food. I allowed that, Your Majesty, but I will not stand by and let you shame him this way."

The queen's eyes shone with fire, her rage swiftly rising to the surface.

"I agree with Varon, Your Majesty." Ephraim stood from his seat. "You would not listen to reason. You were being driven by fear." He returned to his seat as the queen stood.

"My motivations are not to be questioned. No matter what manner I am acting in, it still does not change the fact that Lord Athra's actions were not that of a future king."

Athra's head shot up, his eyes wide and his jaw slack. What was she implying?

"You mean to take this from him?" Varon's voice shook.

The queen clasped her hands together. "How can I allow my daughter to marry someone so deceitful?"

"Your Majesty! He did what he had to. We could not ignore these signs. It may be our only chance to break free of Ashan's rule."

"I do not care about the signs." The queen threw her hands in the air. "I want my daughter back!" She pointed at Athra. "He had no right to deceive me this way!" Stepping towards him, she shot him with an angry glare. "How could you let her leave? Do you not care for her?"

"Of course I do, Your Majesty." Athra's brow creased. "I care deeply for Kyla. You know that."

"Then you should have stopped her from going."

"What was I to do? Tie her in her room?" His voice rose without his meaning to. "She has the stubborn will of a mule. She would not have stopped trying to leave the city. I couldn't bear her anger, which would no doubt have turned to hatred if I did not help her."

"You defied your queen!"

"I did what was right! Fear is the only thing stopping you from admitting this! You think I wanted to let her go. I would have gone with her in a heartbeat if it wouldn't have created suspicion. At least I was able to distract Safeer from noticing. As far as Ashan is concerned, that black monstrosity in the northern forest is all it is."

"If I am seen to defy King Ashan in any way, I cannot guarantee the safety of my people. What if Mordekai is wrong?" Her voice suddenly dropped to a whisper. "What if this prophecy is just a myth? Don't tell me we have nothing to fear." She ran a finger over her forehead. "Eight years ago Ashan's army destroyed us, and since then he has been ever on our doorstep, just waiting. That is why I must honour this treaty. It is the only thing keeping my people safe."

A mixture of emotions crested through Athra. He couldn't identify any of them, but felt his heart ripping apart at her soft words.

"There is no law in the treaty about letting two riders explore the world." Benyamin's quiet voice reached them.

Athra turned to watch him awkwardly rise from his chair. "Let Athra go. The blame does not belong to him alone. If you choose to punish him then you must punish us all."

The queen's eyes began to glisten as she studied Benyamin's steadfast face. He had suffered greatly at the hands of Ashan but chose not to dwell in anger anymore. His face was a picture of peace as he smiled at the queen. "You have every right to miss her, but you must trust now. Trust in her strength and in Jethro's ability to keep her safe." Benyamin looked down at the table, took a deep breath and finished in a clear voice. "What's done is done. All we can do now is trust in the unknown. That is the meaning of faith, is it not?"

The room was stunned into silence. That was the kind of message Mordekai would give, but to come from one of their own...

Athra noticed Ephraim nod in agreement. He looked to his father, whose face beamed with a warm smile. He finally glanced back up at the queen. Her face was white, her mouth set in a resigned frown. She looked away from the men opposing her, her fingers gripped tightly together. Biting her lower lip, she sniffed and then turned back to them with a shaky voice.

"Bring the seer to me. I want to know everything about this prophecy."

The guards at the door shuffled to obey as the queen's eyes refocused and shot Athra a dirty look.

Before she could say anything, he held up his hands for her to stop.

His expression melted with compassion as he looked at her. "I'm sorry she was chosen as a seeker."

The queen's lips began to quiver.

"And I'm sorry I betrayed you."

She blinked at the glistening tears in her eyes and covered her mouth with three delicate fingers. Drawing in a sharp breath, she dropped her hand and lifted her chin.

"Go to the kitchens. See that they feed you."

Without so much as a smile, she turned away from him and all he could do was walk away. He couldn't deny his pure relief at being dismissed so easily, but he also couldn't get the queen's words out of his head. He left the room with a deep frown, oblivious to his father's smile of relief.

*****

A large chunk of bread and a bowl of steaming vegetable broth were placed in front of Athra. He smiled briefly at the cook before returning to his own meanderings.

The queen's words were circling his brain like hungry vultures, wanting to pick and devour. Eight years ago Ashan's army destroyed us.

"And he could easily do it again," Athra muttered.

Ripping off a mouthful of bread, he dipped it in the broth and forced himself to eat. In spite of five days without food, he did not feel ravenous. His stomach had been a mess of knots since Kyla had left, and he despised these feelings of helplessness.

The idea of sitting around and simply waiting while she faced danger at every turn went against all his beliefs. He could not sit idle.

What if they failed? They may have marks tattooed on their arms, but that didn't make them invincible.

He swallowed his mouthful with a grimace.

He had no idea why Ashan had not taken Taramon yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time. The queen herself had finally acknowledged it. It was a truth they could not deny or ignore. The very air buzzed with the idea that their days were numbered.

Surely Kyla and Jethro were not the only two to save the city. He dropped the bread on the plate beside him and leaned away from his food. An idea lit the edges of his brain and he rose in his seat.

No matter the outcome of the prophecy, whether it was true or not, Taramon still needed to be prepared.

If history was true, Oron came to this earth once and fought with Kohlac, the darkest force ever known to man. Every day Ashan seemed to follow in his footsteps. He had never laid eyes on the King of Mezrah, but he had heard the odd rumour. That was probably why Oron was returning. The history of centuries past was beginning to repeat itself. If the God of Light was to return like the prophecy suggested, then they had better be ready for another battle.

"Twenty royal guards," Athra whispered to himself, shaking his head. "That will not do." His face became hard as his idea solidified, clear and keen. "We need an army."

Chapter 14

Kyla flung out her cape and laid it down on the dry dirt. The prairie now lay behind them and tomorrow they would begin their journey through the canyons. They had spent most of the ride peering over their shoulders and listening for any sounds of pursuing riders. Kyla was fairly certain her distraction would keep the guards at bay for a while, but Jethro kept Hava galloping at a fast clip. They had arrived at the edge of the canyons as the sun made its descent. The sky was a picture of perfect beauty, glowing with shades of orange and pink. Kyla had stood transfixed by the stunning sight, unable to tear her eyes away from it.

She finally moved when the sky had changed to hues of blue and black and the stars began to grace the sky. All her worries from the day had evaporated in that moment.

Jethro seemed quite the opposite. He had been sullen and agitated since their near run-in with the guards. She wanted to tell him to lighten up, something he was known for doing, but his pinched lips and stormy expression warned her away. Instead she had decided to simply ignore him.

Glancing across the space between them, she studied his taut expression. She knew he was worried about what lay ahead, and she couldn't shake the feeling that those guards might not be the only thing catching up from behind.

"How many royal guards do you think she sent after us?" Kyla sat down by the small fire Jethro was delicately building.

He softly blew on the bracken, coaxing the fire to ignite. Flames began to dance up from the embers. Sitting back with a small smile, he finally acknowledged Kyla's question.

"I'm not sure. The city does not have many to spare."

She nodded with a deep frown.

"I wonder if those guards found my arrows. Do you think they will be after us again?"

Jethro sighed and scratched his brow. "I think we best be on our guard, although this spot is well hidden and I don't think they'll venture through the rocks in the dark."

"Why will they not follow us into the Canyon Lands? You seemed very sure of yourself."

A grin jumped over his face. "Trolls, my dear."

Kyla laughed. "Trolls? They are a myth, Jethro. Childhood stories your father used to tell."

"Even so," Jethro chuckled. "There are many superstitions amongst the soldiers of Taramon and trolls in the Canyon Lands is a famous one. It might just work in our favour."

Kyla's smile slowly faded. "I feel sorry for those guards already. I would not want to return empty handed."

"Yes, I think I'd be inclined to disappear and start my life anew if I were them."

She grimaced. "I bet Athra feels the same way. I wonder what she's done to him."

Jethro's wince mirrored her feelings. She had been worried about the backlash for her poor fiancé. She knew he hadn't wanted to let her go, and she almost felt guilty about the fact that she would have made him suffer if he had not.

"There's nothing we can do from here. We just have to hope the queen will see reason."

Kyla nodded with a glum smile but then couldn't help a snigger. "My poor mother. Of all the people who could be chosen as a seeker." She pointed to herself. "She must be going insane."

Jethro's eyes narrowed as he studied her. "And you simply love that idea."

Kyla felt her cheeks heat with colour and broke eye contact by gazing into the orange flames. Jethro shuffled around and then reached for a sack behind him. Pulling out a variety of food, he took a quick tally and then handed her some dried beef and a carrot.

She murmured her thanks and began chewing.

"We'll need to hunt again soon. We have to make sure we ration out this food."

Kyla nodded, once again struck by the enormity of this task. Would they be away a week, a month, a year? So much was uncertain.

Taking her time, she chewed the tough beef, gazing between the flickering flames and Jethro's face.

"Do you think this was predestined?" She had no idea why the words left her mouth, but they must have been desperate to get out. Since leaving, they had not really talked about the prophecy.

"What?" Jethro looked confused.

"You and me?"

He stopped chewing, his mouth dropping open and his eyes rounding with surprise.

"What...uh...what do you mean?" He swallowed.

Kyla frowned at his nervous behaviour and then shrugged. "Well, we were born on the same day, we grew up together, we were best friends...and now we've been chosen to do this."

Pulling back her sleeve, she ran a finger over the tattoo for water and tipped her head to study it again.

"I thought you didn't believe in the prophecy...in Oron."

"I don't." Kyla cleared her throat, jerking the sleeve back down.

"Then why are you talking like this?"

"I don't know." She threw her arms wide and shrugged again. She looked away from him, annoyed that they could once talk about anything. She hated this stunted relationship. She was desperate to ask why he had cut her off so easily but wasn't sure she wanted to know. Instead her mind was forcing her to delve into other in-depth topics. At this moment, she loathed herself for even opening her mouth to begin with.

"Why did you come?"

She glanced up at Jethro's question and bit her lip, struggling for an answer that was both truthful, yet unrevealing. "This is my one chance to see the world. I had to come."

Jethro had the ability to be the clown. In fact, he was known for it. But he also had a serious side that Kyla wasn't sure she was fond of. His eyes bore into her, picking away at her flimsy mask.

"You don't want to be queen, do you?"

Kyla was sure her cheeks set fire with his quiet observation. She leaned back with a shrug, striving to appear casual. Clearing her throat, she directed the questioning back to him.

"Why did you come?"

His eyes glimmered with a quiet smile and he nodded, mercifully dropping the subject. He ruffled his hair and shrugged. "I believe it."

"The prophecy?"

"Uh-huh."

"But, why?"

"Well..." Jethro scratched the side of his nose and balanced his strong arms on the tops of his knees. "I can't accept that the God of Light would create such a beautiful world, then leave it to rot. If the stories are true, he came back to save us."

"Yes, but in doing so, he died."

"Did he? How do we know that, Kyla?"

She was a little stumped by the question but soon found her voice. "History records Oron and Kohlac killing each other at the same moment. Besides darkness still exists."

Jethro nodded, his eyebrows rising in acknowledgement. "But so does light."

"Darkness is beginning to rule."

"Hence the reason this prophecy is coming to life."

"It shouldn't even need to come to life. If Oron is a powerful creator, then why didn't he defeat the darkness once and for all? Kohlac should have been the end, but instead the world has been left to fend for itself and inevitably, darkness returns and steals and destroys everything we love." Kyla's voice began to wobble and memories of standing in the south-east turret waiting for a father who would never return tormented her once again.

Jethro responded with an understanding smile. If it hadn't been for that, she might have begun a very loud tirade about it all, but instead she kept her voice quiet. "If he created this world to be a good place, then why does evil even exist at all? If you ask me, he's done a very poor job."

Jethro chuckled. "You're seeking perfection where it does not exist."

"Yes it does."

Jethro shook his head. "Perfection is a myth, Kyla. Even the most beautiful blossoms can have flaws, but that doesn't make them any less breathtaking."

The way he was looking at her made her wonder if he was talking about blossoms at all. She tipped her head, her forehead creasing in question when he tore his eyes away from her and glanced behind him.

"Are you okay?"

"I thought I heard something."

Chapter 15

Jethro scrambled forward and scooped up the loose dirt at his feet, extinguishing the fire.

Kyla held her breath as she listened. Without the sense of sight, her ears honed in on the noises around her — the hoot of an owl, the whistle of wind as it raced through the rocky crevasses. Her muscles were ready to snap as she waited for the inevitable footfall, but nothing came.

Eventually she whispered, "I hear nothing."

Her eyes had now adjusted, and she could see Jethro's shadowy form across from her. He was perched on his heels, ready to pounce if need be.

"Jethro?"

He cleared his throat and let out an embarrassed chuckle. "I must be hearing things."

"Can we relight the fire?"

"I think it's best if we stay in the dark for now. One of us should probably keep watch. You get some rest, I'll wake you in a few hours."

His voice had that hard edge to it again. Kyla frowned as she realized conversation time was once again over.

"No, I'll go first," she said tersely, pushing him back down and walking past him before he could protest. Grabbing her bow, she climbed up the nearest rock and found a perch that let her look over the entrance to their campsite yet still remain hidden from view. She placed her quiver of arrows next to her, within easy reach, and then wrapped her cape around herself and laid the bow across her chest. If she had to use it quickly, she would be prepared.

Kyla glanced down from her perch and watched Jethro shuffle around by the dead fire, obviously struggling with the hard rocky surface. She couldn't help a small pout as she watched him. He wriggled around for another moment, and finally rested his head on his forearm before going still.

She watched him for a few more minutes, unsure if he was asleep or not. Her fingers itched to pick up a rock and throw it at him. She despised the way he shut down so quickly. One minute they were talking as friends, and then he was pulling away as if he didn't want to be near her. All the hurt she'd been burying tried to rise to the surface. She pushed it aside with an irritated huff.

She had Athra now; she didn't need Jethro anymore. Slumping back with a thump, she turned away from him and crossed her arms. A sharp rock pressed into her back and she dug under her cape to remove it, throwing it over the ledge and secretly hoping it reached Jethro's head. She strained to hear a soft expletive or some evidence of injury, but none came. She wrinkled her nose and snorted softly.

Was she completely insane? She was out in the middle of nowhere, keeping watch in case guards from her own city were to attack them. Not only that, she had just been talking about prophecies with a boy who had burned her and continued to confuse her with his constant mood swings. She could be at home with someone who was constant and safe. Images of sweet Athra swam into her mind.

Reaching beneath her shirt, she pulled out the opal gem and pressed it to her lips. It tingled against her mouth. She wanted to smile but couldn't quite do it. She squeezed it in her palm and stuffed it beneath her shirt. The future shot before her mind's eye and she pressed her lips together.

In all honesty, sitting out here on the hard earth with the stars as a canopy was exactly where she wanted to be. Whether the prophecy was true or not, she appreciated it with every fibre of her being.

*****

The pale sky grew warm as the sun rose to greet them. Jethro stretched his sore muscles and let out a loud yawn.

He glanced down from his perch to spot Kyla, still curled in a ball. She had woken him with a boot to the back sometime in the night and passed him her weapons in silence before slumping to the ground and tucking her hands beneath her cheek. He had stood for a few moments, watching her fall into slumber and then forced his tired body up the rock.

The rest of his night had been spent listening out for foreign noises and gazing down at the fiery beauty below him. Her shoulders now twitched as if coming out of a dream, her slim legs stretching tight and her slender arms rising above her as her head curled back. Eventually she glanced up at him and looked as though she was about to smile but changed her mind. Instead she cleared her throat and stood, walking off towards a nearby thicket.

He turned away to give her some privacy, jumping down from the rock and beginning to pack up camp. The night may have been uneventful, but he didn't want to leave any traces behind. Those guards were probably waking and getting ready to track them again. He set about his work in a quiet, efficient manner, leaving out food for them to munch on before they left.

His horse was soon packed, and he moved to start clearing up Kyla's things when she wandered back into sight. Her long, luscious hair was cascading down her back. The night they had left Taramon, her hair had been in a tight, neat braid, and he had noticed it becoming more loose and wayward as the days passed. She had obviously decided it needed redoing this morning. He tried not to look, but couldn't help an elongated glance while her back was turned.

His muscles quivered and he had to force himself to turn away. Swallowing, he walked to the edge of the canyon and looked out over the gaping craters in the landscape. The rock below them was red and dusty. He'd never seen anything like it. It looked as if a mighty hand had scratched the surface of the earth, leaving mammoth cracks that were miles wide. It was breathtaking, and the perfect distraction from his woes. He couldn't wait to start their descent.

Taking his time, he studied the terrain and spotted a good place in which they could hike down with the horses. It was going to be a hard journey, but the map had revealed nothing new, so he knew the only solution was to journey through the Canyon Lands. If they could make it to the bottom by dark, then they could camp there and cross the wide canyon over the next day.

"We should get moving."

He turned to find Kyla on her knees, her arms above her head and her face marked with pure frustration as her fingers tried to decipher a braid.

He couldn't help a soft snicker.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to braid my stupid hair! This is ridiculous!"

"What's the problem? It's just a braid, isn't it?"

"That's all very well, but I've never had to do one before."

"You..." He swallowed back a chuckle. "You've never braided your own hair?"

"Of course I haven't. Sarah has been doing it since before I can remember."

"At least you know how to dress yourself," Jethro muttered.

A rock came hurtling towards his head. He batted it away before it hit his cheek and grinned at the fiery expression on Kyla's face.

"Oh come on, it can't be that hard. Sabine braids her hair all the time."

"Fine, you do it then."

Kyla started to turn around, but he stopped her with a shake of his head. "I said Sabine, not me."

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Kyla flicked a loose curl out of her face. "I can't ride with hair constantly falling over my shoulders." Standing tall, she nibbled her lip and then reached down for the dagger attached to her leg.

"Kyla, wait!"

Too late. With the swiftness of a cheetah, she gathered the hair at her shoulders and hacked it off.

Jethro stood like a horrified mute, unable to move.

She noticed his statue impression and shot him a pitiful frown.

"What?"

"Your mother is going to chop my head off and hang it above the city gates as a warning to all men."

Kyla rolled her eyes while sheathing her dagger. "It will grow back."

Dropping her head forward, she shook out the loose strands and flicked her hair back.

The air froze in his lungs as he gazed at her. The curls, once dragged down by the weight of her hair, now bounced up in wide rings on the tops of her shoulders. They were uneven in places, but it didn't seem to matter. The look suited her. The male clothing, the leather boots, the motley curls...it all fit. For the first time in his life, he felt as though who she was and what she looked like finally matched. He didn't know how it was possible, but it made her even more beautiful.

"It's the same length as yours now."

"Uh-huh."

"You tie yours back sometimes, don't you? Show me how you do it."

She held out a leather cord.

He couldn't move.

"Well?" Kyla's expression was a mixture of annoyance and confusion.

He didn't care about her anger, but he didn't want that confusion to ever merge into a look of understanding. Clearing his throat, Jethro stepped forward and took the piece of leather from her. He pushed her shoulders so she had her back to him. Running his fingers through her silky curls, he begged them not to shake and fumble as he gathered her hair into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. Winding the leather around, he tied the knot with the ease of a veteran and stepped back.

"D-d...I'm done." He licked his lips and clenched his hands into fists as she turned around.

"Thank you." She slapped him on the shoulder with a grin.

He was not sure what his lips did when he tried to smile, but she looked slightly confused before turning away to gather up the rest of her things.

Jethro closed his eyes and dropped his head, scratching the back of his neck and hating himself.

The feel of the soft skin at the nape of her neck burned his fingertips. He pressed them together, wanting to lose the sensation, yet never wanting to let it go. Thoughts of the rest of her body massacred his brain and he had to squeeze his fingers into tight fists before they would let him alone.

"Jethro? Are we going?"

Rolling his shoulders, he scanned their campsite. He bent down and collected up as much of Kyla's long strands as he could.

"What are you going to do with that?"

"I'm not sure," he muttered, "but we can't leave it here for someone to find."

He walked towards Hava, making sure to scuff the dirt as he went to eliminate any footprints or evidence of their presence. It was a struggle, but he eventually managed to tie Kyla's chopped hair into a knot and shoved it into the back of his saddlebag. He had to resist the urge to smell it as he buried the curls deep within the leather. Rolling his eyes at how pathetic he was, he placed his foot in the stirrup and tried to ignore the ever-present reminder that he would never be touching any part of Kyla in the way he'd like to. The thought was heartbreaking, but there was nothing he would ever be able to do about it.

Unable to look at her, he pointed to the place they should descend and led on in silence.

Chapter 16

The guards had returned.

From what Athra had heard, they had snuck into the city that morning and no one was with them. A small part of Athra felt annoyed by this. He would love to have Kyla home and out of harm's way. Another part of Athra was relieved because of all the effort he'd gone through to grant Kyla her wish of leaving. As those two feelings fought for dominance, he was struck by a third — pity. The queen was devastated by the news that the guards had not brought her daughter home.

That was why he had decided to have a private audience with the queen. There were a few things on his agenda for this particular meeting, but he knew that if he was to have any success, he needed to start with some form of comfort. She had been ready to strip the flesh from the guards' backs for not venturing further than the Canyon Lands, but the men had insisted that they searched the area thoroughly and could not find any trace of her daughter or any reason why they should descend into the canyons when she may have taken a different path.

Athra's father quietly whispered that he thought the guards were hiding something, but he had kicked the men out of the throne room before the queen completely lost all composure. He had been a tower of strength to the unstable queen in the last few years, and Athra respected how hard the role must sometimes be.

Clutching his hands into fists, he approached the throne room with slow feet. He usually walked throughout the castle with a confident stride. He knew he shouldn't be nervous. The queen would no doubt relish what he had to share. Her stance on Kyla's escape had softened a little. She had allowed Mordekai and Nikara back into the council room, which was a good sign.

In fact, Mordekai had spent most of the previous days going over what he knew of the prophecy. She was now hungry for every piece of news she could get on the ancient promise and how it might affect her daughter.

Athra had snuck into the room a few times and listened to his teachings on the great God of Light, but he had been too distracted by his burning idea to soak it all in.

After a steady bout of sleepless nights, he knew he must approach the queen today or be driven insane. The guards' return provided him a perfect window to catch the queen when she was feeling fragile.

The thought that he was trying to manipulate his queen did not sit well, but he had a purpose, a very good one, and he was going to see it through.

He came to a stop outside the throne room door. Smiling at the guards, he kept his voice light but serious. "I request a private audience with the queen."

He noticed the left hand guard's eyebrows rise, but Athra kept his expression firm.

"Now, please."

Without a word, the guard entered the room, closing the door behind him. Athra could feel the other guard staring him down and eventually made eye contact, giving him a friendly smile. The guard kept watching him in stony silence.

After an eternity of waiting, the other guard reappeared.

"She will see you in her private office. Follow me."

"Oh, that's okay, I know where it is."

"I said, follow me." The guard's tone left no room for argument, so Athra obeyed. Walking past the throne room and down a private passage at the back of the castle, Athra was led to a narrow door. The guard knocked twice and Athra was immediately summoned.

He bowed before the queen.

"Get up," she said quietly.

"Thank you for seeing me, Your Majesty."

"I had a right mind to turn you away, after everything you've done, but I couldn't help a slight curiosity." Her eyes sparked. "Don't waste my time."

"I know you have the power to strip my dream away."

"Your dream?"

"Of being king. Of ruling Taramon, beside Kyla."

Her expression softened as she glanced at him.

"You know I could have chosen several different men to marry my daughter. There was even a request from a prince in Doran." She let out a short chuckle. "But I chose you." She bore him with a steely expression. "Your father is a good man. He has helped me so much throughout these trying times and I owe him more than he will ever know. Making you king is a way for me to thank him."

Athra swallowed and looked to the floor. "Is that the only reason, Your Majesty?"

The queen's eyes twinkled as she shook her head.

"Luckily for you, my dear boy, I have been watching you since the day you first set foot in this city. You see, in spite of losing your mother and fleeing Ravma in the middle of the night, you have carried yourself with strength and a quiet confidence. You are steadfast and thoughtful in your decision making, and you seem to care greatly for Taramon, even though it is not your home of birth."

"It is a great city, Your Majesty, filled with hard working, loyal people."

The queen smiled.

"Yes it is."

Clearing her throat, she clasped her hands together.

"I have felt for a long time now that your strengths would complement the weaknesses of my daughter. Like your father, you are a good man and you will make a good husband and king. I know you will love and protect my daughter and this city."

"I will do my very best, Your Majesty."

Athra's belly quivered as he watched the queen's lips pinch into a tight line, her knuckles going a shade whiter.

"So you can understand why I struggle to comprehend how you could help your future bride leave on such a treacherous journey."

Athra licked his lower lip and winced. "It was torture, I can assure you. I nearly couldn't do it. Please believe this, Your Majesty."

"What made you change your mind?"

He drew in his breath and held it, trying to decide, knowing this was his moment. Swallowing his doubts, and the small niggle that he was breaking yet another rule, he pulled out a piece of parchment from his belt.

Unrolling it, he stepped towards the queen and showed her a map with a small black blotch moving slowly through the Canyon Lands.

"What is this?" The queen held the edge of the map.

"This dot," he pointed at it, "is your daughter."

The queen's eyes went wide before she leaned in closer to the map. "How is this possible?"

"It is a form of magic I do not understand, but she wears a necklace. As long as it is touching her skin, this map can see her."

"Why is it flashing like that?"

"It pulses in time with her heartbeat."

The queen ran her finger gently over the dot.

"The Canyon Lands," she whispered.

"Yes, she entered them four days ago."

The queen tapped her nail on the table. "Those imbecile guards informed me she had not gone that way. I should have their heads!" She slapped the wood.

"Please, Your Majesty, their fears may be unfounded, but years of superstition is hard to break."

"You speak of the supposed trolls," she muttered.

Athra nodded and she rolled her eyes.

"From my studies, I can tell you with certainty that the Canyon Lands present no great threat. There is nothing there but dry rock and dirt." Athra's chest puffed out a little. He was glad he had come prepared.

The queen didn't seem to notice as she stared at the wall, speaking to herself. "Ashan's army has no interest in that region."

Athra nodded. "Well, as far as I understand there are no useful resources there for them. Kyla is safe, Your Majesty."

A small smile brushed her lips as she snapped out of her trance. It vanished as she turned to face him.

"Why did you not speak of this map before?"

"The person who gave it to me warned me not to tell anyone."

"And who is this person?"

"Please, Your Majesty, I really cannot say."

She seemed a little unhappy with this answer but accepted it nonetheless. Her expression grew hard and then slowly began to soften. Releasing a small breath, she finally whispered, "Thank you for showing me."

"I will keep you updated on her every move."

"It is tempting to send those guards back after her, now that I know where she is."

Athra's chest constricted. "But they are so far ahead already."

The queen's expression softened at his urgent words and she looked to the floor.

"I have thought about following her every day, but I know I must trust in her ability. You have raised her to be a strong, capable woman, like yourself."

The queen scoffed. "I am not strong, Athra...but I suppose Kyla is."

"She will succeed, and then return."

"Let us hope so." The queen's tight lips gave away her doubts.

Athra closed his eyes and willed his courage not to fail him.

"Your Majesty, this is not the only reason I came." He carefully rolled the map, unable to look at the queen as he spoke. "The other day, you said something that I cannot ignore."

"Oh?"

"Ashan's army. It is a mighty beast that could squash us in a moment."

He glanced up to find the queen gazing at him, her eyes slightly narrowed.

"You are right and..." He swallowed. "That is why I think you should consider building up an army."

"An army?"

"To replace the one we lost."

She scoffed and shook her head.

"I have been looking through the city registry. We have many men who would willingly fight, but none of them are trained." Athra's voice rose. "They would be slaughtered in battle."

"There will be no battle, Athra. We have the treaty to protect us."

"How can we be sure that it will?"

The tension in the room was quickly building. Athra could feel it brewing as the queen turned away from him, her shoulders so rigid he could see the bones protruding from her back.

"What I am sure of is that if we break the treaty, there could be deadly ramifications. I will not risk it." She spun around. "The treaty clearly states that Taramon is not to form any kind of army." She gripped the back of a chair she was standing near.

"I know what it says, but Ashan does not have to know. We could train in secrecy."

"Ashan knows everything. I will not deceive him and face his wrath."

"Your Majesty, please listen—"

"Lord Athra." She raised her hand in warning. "When you are king, you may build whatever army you please. I am not breaking the treaty. We must respect Ashan and his wishes."

Athra strived to keep his voice calm. "You said yourself that Ashan is ever waiting. He will deceive us. You cannot rely on the treaty!"

"But I can rely on my daughter, isn't that what you said?"

Athra swallowed back his angry retort.

"Mordekai is convinced this prophecy is real. You obviously believe it, otherwise you would not have let Kyla go. I am still unsure what I believe, but I know this to be true. Breaking the treaty will mean death for us all."

"So will lack of preparation."

The queen's face went stone hard, a sure sign he had lost.

"This discussion is over, Lord Athra."

"Your Majesty—"

"Thank you for showing me the map." The queen smoothed her dress down with a trembling hand. "I will expect daily updates on my daughter's progress." She flicked her fingers in the air, dismissing him.

It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to turn for the door. His feet felt like lead. He spun one last time, wondering if he should make a final attempt, but her back was turned. Gripping the handle, he pulled the door back with force and stormed through it.

Athra's mind whirled with one insult after the next as he pounded down the stairs. He didn't know where he was going. He just knew he wanted to be as far from the queen as possible. He should have approached the counsel with his idea first, but he felt he'd have more sway with the queen by showing her the map.

He hated the fact his plan had not worked. The idea of going back to idly wait while Kyla searched the world for some unknown elements riled him beyond belief. He stormed through the marketplace, not wanting to acknowledge any of the people who greeted him. Politeness forced him to smile and nod. In a bid to get away, he descended the stairs that led to the dungeons.

No one had been down here for years. The dungeons were part of the ancient city. Kohlac had used them to house his slaves when he had taken over the city. When Taramon was rebuilt after Kohlac was destroyed, the people had decided to use the strong structure as a foundation for the new city. They did not block them off entirely, just in case they were ever required for disciplinary purposes. The queen had never really needed them. If anyone misbehaved, she simply used the threat of handing the criminal over to Ashan's army. It had worked, and so the dungeons lay unused and forgotten.

Athra paused at the bottom of the stairs. Cocking his head to the side, he listened out for the noise he thought he had just heard. A faint clang of metal on metal. With quiet steps, he followed the noise, weaving through the dark passageways of the dungeon. It did not take him long to come across a large, open cell and two armed fighters.

He watched the tall man give quiet instructions as the young boy thrust and lunged towards him. Remaining still, he blocked each blow, giving praise and correction as needed. Athra leaned against the door frame and watched them for a moment, his lips fighting with a smile.

Eventually the sword was flicked from the young boy's hands. He let out a frustrated huff and went to collect it.

"You must concentrate, son. Do not let fatigue control your actions. At all times, you must be one with your sword. It is an extension of your body, not something that should ever be dropped."

The slight boy nodded. He was such a contrast to his older brother. Jethro was broad, his muscles large and powerful. Levi was a weed next to him, but his feet looked fast as he readied himself for another attack. The man opened his mouth to speak and then noticed Athra smiling at him.

"Lord...Athra. This is a surprise."

"Hello, Uncle."

Benyamin looked a little chagrined as Athra stepped towards him.

"Does the queen know of these training sessions?" He slapped Levi on the shoulder in friendly greeting.

"What do you think?"

Athra chuckled at Benyamin's pointed expression.

"How long has this been going on?"

"About seven years." His voice was grave. "I wanted my boys to be prepared for anything."

Athra quickly worked out that he must have started working with Jethro as soon as he was well enough to stand.

"I guess it's lucky that you did, with Jethro being chosen."

Benyamin nodded.

Athra swallowed and forced a broad smile. "It makes me feel better actually, knowing he can protect Kyla even more now."

"She can protect herself." Levi grinned and then quickly turned red as the two men glanced at him.

Benyamin's deep frown asked the question without saying a word.

"I mean...she...I was only doing what Jethro did." Levi raised his gangly arms and stepped away.

"And what was Jethro doing?" Athra's voice was tight.

Levi swallowed and looked to the ground, running a hand through his straight, floppy hair. "After training with Father, she would meet him down here and they would go over his lesson from the day. She was so sad when he stopped doing it and I felt bad for her. When she asked me, I couldn't say no."

Benyamin's chest began to rumble and a loud laugh soon erupted from his mouth. "You have been training Princess Kyla?"

"Yes, Father."

Levi must have thought his father was mocking him; his hazel eyes narrowed and his pointed nose wrinkled with a frown. But after a firm slap on the shoulder, his angry glare fled.

"You are a smart one, my son."

Levi's face lit like a bonfire as he grinned.

Athra wasn't sure how he felt. Why had Kyla never told him? He could have shown her a thing or two. Disappointment blended with shock at the idea of his nimble bride wielding a sword. His feelings soon bubbled down to a simmer as he had to admit that she would probably be more than able.

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to let the idea of secret training sessions bother him. The fleeting question of why Jethro stopped skimmed through his brain, but it was overpowered.

"Secret training," he mumbled.

He caught Benyamin looking at him.

"Uncle, do you think you could train more than one?"

"You are welcome to join us anytime. I'm sure your father would not mind, and what the queen doesn't know won't hurt her."

"That's right." Athra felt his insides bubble with excitement. "She would never have to know. I mean, she never comes down here...neither do the royal guards." He started pacing in a slow circle as he thought aloud. "In fact, if we trained while the city slept, it would be even easier to conceal."

"I doubt we need to go to those lengths, nephew."

Athra stopped and looked at him. "For what I have in mind, we do."

Benyamin's brows dipped.

"Levi." Athra grabbed the boy's shoulder and swung him around. "You know of many in this city. Would you say there are some that would want to train alongside you, that are desperate to be ready in case of battle?"

Levi's head bobbed. "I know many of Jethro's friends would and I have some too."

"Wait a minute." Benyamin raised his hand and limped towards them. "Athra, what are you up to?"

"You cannot deny that we are weak without an army. I know Kyla and Jethro are out to raise Oron again, but when he was here last, he fought Kohlac in battle. We must be ready if he calls on us. We cannot sit idly by."

Benyamin pressed his lips together. "We don't know how he is to return."

"No, you are right, but a battle with Ashan is imminent, and I for one, want to be prepared."

Whether it was the fiery passion with which Athra spoke his words or the determined look in his eye, he was not sure, but Benyamin was soon nodding.

"On one condition."

Athra's stomach clenched, but he forced his head to bob.

"This training is for defence purposes only. We do not march on Ashan's army and we do not initiate any attacks."

"Absolutely, Uncle. I don't have a death wish." He grinned.

Benyamin's worry diminished and was replaced with a broad smile. "Then I will speak to Varon. We can meet before dawn. Training will be over before the day has begun. The queen does not need to know of this."

"I'll start gathering recruits." Levi bounced from toe to toe.

"As will I." Athra couldn't help a grin. With a broad smile, he reached for his uncle's hand and shook it firmly. "Let it begin."

Chapter 17

It had taken them two days to descend into the first canyon and walk to the other side of it. Then after a day of climbing paths so steep that Kyla had to practically pull Neema up parts of it, she felt completely exhausted. Jethro's paranoia at being followed didn't help and he had made them waste half a day to set some false tracks. She knew it was the right thing to do, but she found it infuriating, which just added to her exhaustion.

In spite of this, sleep had not come easily and she woke up feeling cranky, not to mention sore and achy. Would she ever adjust to sleeping outdoors? She hated how soft she was and this blackened her disposition even further.

The mood hung over her like a dark storm cloud, particularly when she woke to find they were facing yet another valley. One more day of cautious descending had passed and they were now making their way across the next valley floor.

The sun was shining down on them with hot, merciless beams. Kyla had stripped down to her undergarments, not caring what Jethro thought. About an hour after his eyes had bulged wide with surprise, he'd done the same thing. She shot him a dark look as she watched him peel off his clothing and tried to ignore the powerful curve of his shoulders. Skinny limbs that used to drag her through the forest had grown. Now strong, hard muscles covered his arms and torso. She forced her gaze away from him. So much had changed in the last year.

She gripped Neema's reins and steered her around a clump of rocks. Silence seemed her only companion since they'd started their trip across the Canyon Lands. Jethro's mumbled replies were beyond irritating, and she had quickly given up trying to strike up any kind of conversation.

He made the odd necessary comment, but their easy chatter from the prairies had vanished. She was trying to figure out why. Was it the fact she had cut her hair? She didn't think he cared about that kind of thing.

With a sad frown, she realized that she had no idea what he did or did not care about anymore. She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment that Jethro had put an end to their friendship. The change had not come all at once, which made it impossible to figure out the reason for his behaviour. One day he'd been right by her side and a while later he hadn't. He stopped seeking her out and luring her away on secret adventures. His friendly smiles and conspiring winks across the room had diminished. It wasn't long before he had pulled away entirely, and Kyla had been unable to deny the gaping hole in her life. She'd tried to refill it, but to no avail. The one time she found Jethro alone and questioned him about it, he brushed her off with dark mutterings that had her vowing never to try again.

She naturally blamed herself for his behaviour. She had a way of annoying people. She must have done something that turned him against her. She had always thought Jethro was different though. Pieces of her heart began to crumble and fall away until she bogged up the cracks with a fresh batch of forced complacency. She had Athra now. Thank goodness her mother had announced their engagement when she did. It had been a welcome distraction from Jethro's bizarre behaviour.

Accepting her best friend's desertion had almost been as hard as dealing with her father's death. If she was honest, she wasn't sure if she would ever truly come to terms with it.

She glanced at Jethro, riding straight in his saddle, his eyes scanning the distant rock face they'd have to ascend. She thought she could make out another switch back trail running up the side of the canyon wall. The thought of having to climb it made her want to cry.

A flash of anger tore through her. This quest was not turning out at all like she'd imagined, and it was all Jethro's fault! He was making something that should be exciting and fun into something intolerable! Not to mention the awful sun, the sweat in her eyes and her sudden need to simply stop and rest.

As they neared a large clump of boulders, she pulled on Neema's reins and jumped out of the saddle.

"What are you doing?" Jethro spun his horse around.

"I'm stopping for a rest."

"Kyla, I told you, I want to make it to the edge of the canyon by nightfall."

"And who put you in charge?" She crossed her arms and looked up at him, hungry for a fight.

Jethro closed his eyes and dismounted Hava. "Fine. We'll have a short break."

He sounded pretty annoyed as he pulled the gourd from his belt and had a drink.

"Anything new on your arm yet?"

"No, for the hundredth time. The map has not changed. No new path, just the canyons."

Letting out a sigh, Kyla stomped towards him and pulled his arm so she could examine the map.

"Maybe we're missing something."

"You don't think I've studied every line of this map? There's nothing new on my arm." He wrenched it out of her grasp. "The earth element is obviously somewhere around here." He spread his arms wide.

Kyla's laughter was hard. "Really? You think so? Now, where would we find any earth in a rocky place like this?"

"Don't mock me." Jethro's eyes narrowed. "I know as much as you do."

She huffed and kicked a pebble with the toe of her boot.

"This is ridiculous. We can't keep mindlessly wandering through the canyons. It could take months!"

"I'm as frustrated as you are, but we have to trust that things will come clear soon enough."

She didn't like his snappy tone and couldn't help responding with a snap of her own. "Do you have any idea how vast these lands are?"

"Yes, I am very aware." Jethro threw his arms up. "But we need to keep moving. Something will appear soon enough."

"No." Kyla stood her ground, folding her arms tight across her chest again. "I refuse to keep wandering aimlessly through these rocks."

Jethro's jaw muscles strained as he clamped his teeth together. Stepping towards her, he raised his finger. "You don't have a choice, Princess. Now get back on your horse."

His usually gentle eyes were hard and unyielding...and Kyla just couldn't help herself. Without thinking she grabbed his finger and bent it back.

"Ahh!" He squirmed.

"What gives you the right to order to me around?"

"Let go of me."

She tugged a little harder and he fell to his knees.

"Kyla, I am warning you."

Although anger was racing through her system, she couldn't help a slight sense of glee. This was the longest conversation they had had since descending that first rocky path, and she didn't realize how much she had been craving some interaction.

She was so busy on this thought that she didn't even see his right arm grabbing her foot and pulling her to the ground. She landed with an oomph and fought for air as he stood, bore her with a molten glare and began walking away.

She tripped him up before he got two steps. He sprung up from the ground and turned to face her.

"What is wrong with you?"

"You!" She scrambled to her feet. "You're what's wrong with me. You and your foul moods. Why do you insist on ignoring me all the time? We're supposed to be doing this together!"

"We are together." He threw his arms wide. "What more do you want?"

"A little conversation would be nice."

Jethro's eyebrows bunched together. He shook his head and began walking back to Hava. She wanted to scream but instead snatched a small rock from the ground and hurled it at his head.

"Ow!" He spun around, his face livid. Rubbing the back of his head, he approached her with quick steps as she raised another rock at him. "Don't you dare!"

She dared.

The rock went flying. He caught it and threw it straight back. She batted it away, scraping her arm. The sting ignited her rage even further, and she bent to collect up a larger arsenal. Before she could start flinging them, he had jumped past her and was wrapping his arms around her from behind.

"Let me go," she screamed, thrashing her legs.

The heel of her boot caught him square in the shin and he released her. "You irritating little—"

Letting out a cry, she threw herself towards him, tackling him to the ground and pummelling him with her fists.

*****

Jethro fought her off as best he could, but she was like an enraged lioness. He grunted as she caught him in the side again. With each pound of her fist, his anger flared until he lashed out in a blind rage, clocking her square in the face. She tumbled off him, placing a shaking hand over her cheekbone.

Pulling her fingers away, he saw the red welt on her face. She pressed it with her fingers and hissed. Her eyes bulged.

"I hate you," she screamed.

She wasn't the only one.

He watched her stand on shaking limbs, breaths snorting out of her nose. She sounded like a bull ready to charge and he braced himself for a second attack. She launched herself towards him, and he caught her wrists before her fists could do any more damage. Her weight propelled him backwards and he landed with a thud in the dirt. Her arms were still fighting his vice-like grip so he wrapped them behind her back. Clamping them in one hand, he placed his other hand on the side of her face, forcing her to look at him.

"Kyla, stop it!" He gripped the back of her neck, his thumb digging into her cheek as she let out a growl.

And then he did the unthinkable. Pulling her towards him, he placed his lips on hers. The kiss was not a tender one; he poured all his anger into it, crushing his mouth against hers. Her body pinged tight with surprise, but then she relaxed, her mouth sinking against him in a fiery kiss that singed the edges of his senses. It took a moment for his brain to register what he was doing.

He jerked away.

Kyla's eyes were round with shock as she gazed down at him. He was just opening his mouth to stutter an apology when the boulder beside him exploded.

Instinctively, he let go of Kyla's hands and wrapped his arms around her, rolling over so she was beneath him. Covering her head with his arms, he squeezed his eyes tight as dust and rocks showered down around them followed by a loud roar.

They both went still.

"What was that?" Kyla whispered.

"I don't know." Jethro glanced over his shoulder and soon discovered that he did know. "Look out!" He rolled off Kyla and pushed her away. They tumbled apart as a massive club landed between them, shaking the ground and leaving a massive dent in its wake.

Jethro jumped from his back to a low crouch and noticed Kyla doing the same. Her face was pale, yet her eyes were alive as she gazed up at the biggest creature he'd ever seen.

A troll. A gargantuan, terrifying, not-even-supposed-to-exist troll.

"Run!" Kyla shouted as the club swung high again. Jethro leapt to his feet and just missed being caught by the edge of the mammoth club. Squeezing into the space between two boulders, he caught Kyla's hand and pulled her in after him.

"I'm starting to believe in trolls now." Her fleeting grin was etched with fear.

"Not a myth after all. I must tell Father."

He peeked over her head and spotted a gnarled green fist the size of a dinner table flying towards them.

He placed his hand on the back of Kyla's head. They both crouched in the tiny space, closing their eyes against the debris raining down around them.

The large beast let out another roar and raised his club again. Jethro ducked his head as the rocks around them trembled.

"We can't stay in here. He'll smash through these rocks soon enough. Let's move." He pushed Kyla to crawl in front of him. They scuttled and slithered beneath the rocks until they hit a dead end. Kyla pushed herself up and stood with her back against the natural wall behind her. He squeezed up beside her and they stood face to face. They were so close his lips were nearly brushing her cheek. He swallowed, hating himself for hurting her.

"We can't stay hiding in here. What about the horses?"

"They will have run."

Kyla's forehead wrinkled.

"Don't worry," he smiled, "you've been raising Neema since she was a foal. She'll come back to you."

Kyla's lips pulled wide with a smile. She winced at her aching cheek and then flinched as the club smashed the rock beside them.

"He's going to eat us for supper if we don't do something," Kyla whispered.

"What do you have in mind?"

Kyla scanned their surroundings, obviously assessing what they had.

"We need to bring him to ground. I'm guessing a beast that size will be slow to get up. If we can somehow trip him, then we might have a chance to get away."

"Okay, so what have we got to work with?"

Kyla looked thoughtful for a moment and then grabbed the dagger from her ankle. Her eyes danced with amusement. "Did I notice our troll wearing trousers?"

Chapter 18

The rock beside them disintegrated as the club fell with a large smash. Kyla got a decent look at the gnarly green troll. His large head was covered with rocky spikes that descended down his back and arms. Compared to the rest of his face, his black eyes looked tiny, set close together above a nose that was so flat it blended into his upper lip. In spite of this fact, when those beady eyes landed on Kyla she felt her whole body quiver. She sucked in a breath as the troll hunched his massive shoulders and bellowed again. A wave of hot air rushed over her and she didn't want to dwell on the size of his long, sharp teeth. Saliva dangled from his yellow incisors as he pulled in another ragged breath and raised his club again.

"Go," she shouted. Running in between the troll's legs, she dashed up the rocks behind him. Scrambling up with lightning speed, she pulled herself to the top of the boulder and turned to see Jethro weaving and dancing before the troll, doing his best to distract him.

Licking her lips, Kyla drew in a quick breath and leaped onto the troll's back. He flinched as she tumbled down his craggy spine. She caught the edge of his trousers just as she was about to plunge to the ground. With a grunt, she swung her right leg up and caught her heel in the edge of his waistband. By this stage the troll was starting to dance circles. Kyla had to hold tight as the momentum forced her body to swing out. Wrapping her fingers into the material of his knee-length trousers, she began hacking at the waistband. It was a very difficult job, with the spinning and the fact the trousers were made out of some sort of thick leather, held tight by a coarse piece of rope.

"Hey! Over here!"

She heard Jethro yelling, trying to distract the poor beast and give her a chance. The spinning eased a little as the troll let out a confused groan. It was enough time for her to finish the final cut. As the troll clutched his club and began stepping towards Jethro, his trousers began to slide...along with Kyla.

She let out a yelp and had no choice but to let go. She tumbled to the ground and rolled a couple of times. The earth around her rumbled and shifted as the troll struggled with the twisted material at his ankles. His howl was deafening as he fell with a crash. Kyla covered her head to protect her eyes from the dirt that billowed up around the fallen troll. She waited another beat before rising and coughing the dust from her throat. Waving her arms in front of her, she tried to clear the dusty mist.

"Kyla!"

"I'm here."

Jethro came bounding into view. He rushed to her side and scanned her body. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine." She pointed at the troll as it struggled to its feet. "We should move."

Jethro grabbed her arm and they inched their way past the struggling beast, watching his slow movements. Backing away from him, they began heading in the direction they thought the horses might be when the troll let out a soft whimper.

Kyla stopped.

"Is he—?"

Stepping back towards the troll, she watched the large creature raise his hand and rub at his eyes. A moment later his gigantic shoulders began to shake, his lower lip wobbled and a loud sob echoed throughout the canyon.

"He's crying." Kyla bit the inside of her cheek, looking worried. "What should we do?"

"Ahhh...I was thinking leave."

Kyla scowled at his firm voice.

"But look how sad he is, Jethro."

She walked towards the huge beast and began climbing up the boulder next to him. She knew she was taking a huge risk being this close, but it was her fault that he was so upset.

"It's okay," she crooned as she got to the top of the boulder and inched towards him. "Um..."

"Kyla, don't!"

Ignoring Jethro, she stretched out her hand towards the troll to pat his shoulder. The beast turned his ginormous head to stare straight at her. Up close, his big eyes, which she thought were small and black, were actually a dark grey...and huge. She could see the slick sheen of tears glossing over them. His eyelids crashed down in a slow blink, and then his eyes began to narrow. He opened his mouth, sucking in a lung full of air.

"Raji! No!"

The troll and Kyla both whipped around to see a small boy approaching them. The troll let the air whistle out of his mouth, sagged his shoulders and began sniffling again. Kyla stood up straighter when she noticed the boy leading Neema and Hava behind him. He looked to be about eight or nine years of age and had a mop of thick black curls spiralling all over his head. The hair was so thick, it didn't even fall. Kyla had never seen anything like it. It looked like a round hat.

He was wearing nothing but a pair of trousers with a slingshot tucked into the waistband. His feet were bare and his skin was the darkest shade of brown she'd ever seen. His large brown eyes almost looked too big for his face and were currently staring at her with complete disapproval.

She frowned back at him as he handed the reins to Jethro and approached the troll.

"What did you do to him?" He put his hands on his hips and glared at Kyla.

"Nothing!" She held up her arms in a gesture of pure innocence. She was well practised.

"Then why is he crying?"

The boy rubbed the beast's big toe and clucked.

"And why are his trousers around his ankles!"

The troll sniffed, let out a pitiful groan and then launched into an explanation that Kyla did not understand. He spoke in a muffled sort of voice. The sounds were a mixture of guttural groans and pitching wails. The whole time he spoke, his hands moved in a flurry. When he stopped to take a breath, the boy would do the same type of things with his hands. It was like they were having a conversation using some sort of sign language.

Kyla was intrigued as she watched them. Inching her way back down the rock, she came to stand beside Jethro. He grabbed her upper arm and pulled her close so they could stand side by side. It was like he was almost afraid to let her go. She flicked his hand off but stayed right next to him.

"What do you think they're saying?" he whispered out of the side of his mouth.

"I think the troll is giving his account of what just happened."

The boy turned and shot them a dark look.

"And I don't think he's making us look very good."

Jethro cringed and she couldn't help a nervous titter.

"I don't know why you're laughing. He could have killed you, you know." The boy raced over the rocks towards them, his feet agile and obviously used to the terrain. "He's only a baby. He doesn't have the same control as the others."

"Others? There are others?" Jethro looked over his shoulder and scanned the rocky canyon.

"You really upset him, trespassing into his room and fighting like two children all over his bed. No wonder he reacted the way he did. He's not used to seeing any human but me in these parts."

"His bed?" Kyla looked beneath her feet.

The boy sighed and pointed back to the large boulder. "He's leaning against his pillow right now."

"Oh." Kyla struggled for words. "Well, we're sorry. I'm sorry," she called out to the troll. He frowned in her direction, looking forlorn and slightly confused.

"He doesn't speak English."

"Well, how do I tell him then?"

For the first time, the boy's lips twitched with a smile and then broke into a grin. His broad teeth were stark white against his chocolate skin, and his deep dimples just made him plain adorable.

"Here, I'll show you."

He did a few hand gestures, which she followed, then, suddenly inspired, she raced to Neema and yanked a shirt from her saddlebag.

Swallowing, Kyla approached the large troll, tried to repeat the boy's hand signals as best she could and lifted up her shirt for him to use as a handkerchief.

The troll gazed at her for a moment. His eyes began to glimmer and a low laugh rumbled from his belly. With a gleeful chuckle he reached for the shirt and ended up lifting her in the process.

She dangled in the air while Jethro yelled at the boy to make him stop, but his fear was unwarranted. A moment later the troll placed her down on the pillow, beside him. She stood on the large rock while he wiped at his tears. She had to cover her ears when he blew his nose. It was like the blast of a thousand trumpets.

With a final sniff, he wiped his face again and held out the sodden shirt for her to take. Kyla stepped back and shook her hands. "You keep it."

The troll turned to the boy in confusion. A few signs later and he nodded, letting out another adorable chuckle. He turned to her with a broad smile, his sharp yellow teeth still looking dangerous but not quite so scary.

She grinned back and took a small step away, unaware of how close she stood to the edge of the high boulder until the rock beneath her began to vibrate.

"Here come the others," the boy warned them.

Jethro reined in the jittery horses and pulled them away from the approaching beasts. There were three of them, all much larger than the baby troll they had just met. Kyla's mouth dropped open as they boomed their way towards her. She'd never seen anything so huge and terrifying before in her life. The greeny-black skin covering the front of their bodies looked much harder than their baby's, like plates of armour fitted perfectly together to cover each muscle. The knuckles on their hands were like round shields lined up next to each other, ready to smash whatever got in their way. They each carried a club, but unlike the baby troll, theirs had solid spikes peppering the rounded end.

Kyla swallowed and shuffled her feet, feeling as jittery.

The young troll beside her let out a squeal and began clapping his hands in excitement. The mother troll, at least Kyla thought it looked like a woman, her long sprout of black, wiry hair being the only real indicator, bounded towards her son and patted him on the top of the head. She pointed to his torn trousers in confusion. Kyla's heart took off like a racing horse as she watched the baby troll explain the situation. A troll that size could crush her like a grape. She swallowed as the mother glared at her. The air eventually whooshed from her lungs as the large troll's expression softened when her son held up the sodden shirt. Eventually the mama troll let out a mildly approving grunt and plonked down beside her boy.

The whole earth jumped with the movement. Kyla's feet skidded on the rock as the ground shook. Flailing her arms, she reached for anything she could grab, but air was all she could find. With a scream, she fell from the edge.

"Kyla!"

Jethro began racing towards her, but he'd never make it in time. She was about to close her eyes and take the hit when a large flat rock flew through the air towards her. She grabbed its edge and clung as it whistled along and then slowed to a stop, hovering a couple of feet above the ground. Kyla let go and landed with a dusty thud.

Jethro had stopped running and stood bug-eyed. She followed his line of sight and spotted the boy, his arms outstretched towards the flat rock as he guided it by some invisible force. His tongue stuck out the side of his mouth as he flicked his hands and sent the rock skidding across the ground. It came to a stop against a large boulder.

Kyla gulped.

"How did you...? I mean, what did you...?" She pointed at the boy and then looked at Jethro. His wide-eyed shock was now morphing into pure excitement. Clicking his fingers, he captured the boy's attention and lifted up his hand, exposing his forearm.

"Do you know this symbol?" He pointed at his wrist.

The boy frowned as he approached Jethro for a better look.

"Earth," the boy muttered.

"You can control earth?" Jethro spoke slowly.

"Yes."

Kyla's insides jumped and she ran towards them.

"I can't believe we found you." Jethro squeezed the boy's shoulder and laughed.

"Through earth, water, wind and fire, you will find me," Kyla said. "Does that mean anything to you?"

The boy's brown eyes narrowed. Taking Jethro's hand from his shoulder, he turned his arm around and ran his finger over the earth tattoo. It burned bright gold and the map began to disintegrate, the gold swirls fading away until only the symbol for earth remained.

The boy giggled.

"Seekers?" He jumped with glee. "You're the seekers!"

The boy raised his hands in the air and let out a loud whoop.

"The time has come!"

He ran towards Kyla and threw his arms around her waist. She patted his back, somewhat thrown by his enthusiasm. He then let go and raced to Jethro, squeezing his middle tightly. Jethro rubbed his back with a chuckle.

The boy stepped back and let out another joyous shout. "May the light rise again!" Punching the air, he jumped around like an excited puppy. If he'd had a tail, it would have been wagging. Bounding over to the troll family, he began a flurry of motions with his hands.

Kyla stepped towards Jethro and smiled.

"A boy. I never would have guessed."

"Me neither."

They both stood watching him, shaking their heads in amazement and wondering what was to come next.
Chapter 19

It turned out that the trolls were a ridiculously friendly bunch. Their rock-like skin and sharp yellow teeth hid insides made of feather down. Jethro was sure the small family could rip an army to shreds if they so desired, but the fact they let a small boy dwell amongst them spoke volumes to Jethro.

A sizzling fire was blazing on the valley floor. It was so huge it lit the night sky, dimming the stars and pulsing out a fervent heat. Kyla squinted and moved a little further away, heading in Jethro's direction. Mama Troll twirled the carcass of some sort of animal over the fire. The flames leapt high as grease dripped from the roasting meat.

Jethro watched the lean girl head towards him and looked down to hide his frown. He didn't really want her company right now. All he had to do was look at her bruised cheek and guilt washed over him in waves so thick and strong he thought he might drown in them. The fact he had resorted to kissing her didn't help the situation. He was doing everything in his power to avoid thoughts of Athra.

He couldn't believe he had actually done it. He had been trying to convince himself that he'd simply done it to get her attention and calm her down, but that wasn't true. Her lips had been too close to resist, and he'd given in to his aching temptation. He hunched his shoulders and cringed, hiding his expression behind his mop of hair.

"I don't know what she's cooking and I don't know if I want to eat it, but it sure smells good." Kyla chuckled. She looked a little nervous as she stood before him.

Had she come to talk about it? He wasn't sure he wanted to know what she was thinking. That look of shock on her face after their kiss had said enough. He had crossed a line.

He ran a hand through his locks and pushed a closed-mouth smile over his lips. Kyla cleared her throat and sat down next to him, wincing.

He felt the same. Their scuffle had bruised a few muscles and his sides felt battered and tender. He rubbed a sore spot on his lower ribs and kept his eyes on the bonfire.

Kyla was studying him, he could sense it, so he looked her way and forced another quick grin. Her response was a little huff. She glared up at the sky and jammed her teeth together.

He knew she was waiting for some sort of apology...or a chance to talk it out, but the lump in his throat was so huge, he didn't think he'd be able to speak anyway. Feeling the flames were his safest bet, he kept his eyes locked on them until they were blurry.

They sat in silence together, him staring at the fire like a stone statue and her building a tower from a small pile of pebbly rocks on the ground. From the corner of his eye, each time her tower tumbled, he saw her take in a breath to start speaking, but her lips would clamp shut before a word was uttered and she would go back to building again.

"Come eat now!"

The little boy, whose name they had discovered was Adamar, called them over. It was a welcome respite from the awkward silence between them.

Rising with a soft groan, Jethro turned back to help Kyla to her feet. She ignored the gesture and walked past him with a droll expression.

He cringed and wiped a hand over his face, wishing he could somehow explain his abhorrent behaviour.

Squatting down, he took the stick Adamar passed him and nestled his bottom into a dip of a nearby boulder. His feet dangled and he almost felt like a kid again. Kyla's legs were doing the same, kicking up and down as she sniffed her food. Her first nibble was tentative, but she then raised her eyebrows in approval and took a mammoth bite. He couldn't help a soft chuckle. It brought back memories of happier times, which only broke his heart. With a frown, he bit the charred meat and was surprised by the juicy sweetness. He didn't even want to know what he was eating. It would surely ruin the experience. He wolfed down a couple more mouthfuls, burning his tongue in the process.

When only scraggly bits of red meat remained on the stick, he cleared his throat and looked at Adamar.

"So, were you born with the ability to control the earth?"

"Nuh-uh." Adamar shook his head and munched on his food. Wiping his greasy lips with the back of his hand, he shuffled closer to them.

"I was born to a nomadic tribe of the Harabi Desert."

"So what happened to you? How did you learn?"

The boy shrugged while nibbling another bite. "Oron taught me."

"Oron?" Kyla leaned forward.

Adamar's head bobbed excitedly. "I lost my family during a sandstorm. When it had blown over, we couldn't find each other and I ended up wandering through the desert for days.

"Oron found me just after I'd died and raised me again, gifting me power over the earth element."

"So...you died?"

Kyla looked sceptical, but the boy beamed her a bright smile and nodded once more.

"And then Oron brought you back to life?"

"That's right."

Adamar was starting to look a little perplexed as to why Kyla wouldn't believe him. Jethro bit back a chuckle.

"So what happened after that?" Jethro asked.

"Well, Oron took me with him and started training me...and then came the Great War." Adamar looked sad as he took another bite of his meat.

"The Great—?"

Jethro's question was cut short by a grunt from Papa Troll. Adamar spun around and jumped down from his boulder to see what the beast wanted.

"That can't be right." Jethro shook his head as Kyla leaned towards him.

"Did he say Oron and the Great War?"

"That's what it sounded like. He spoke of Oron as if he walked this earth with him, but..."

"That would make him 700 years old."

"708." Adamar's sweet voice made them both jump. Jethro let out a breath.

"How is that possible?" Kyla frowned. "Why have you not grown?"

"I'm not sure really. Oron passed before I could ask him, but I've always imagined that when he brought me back to life, I was changed...stuck in my body the way it was before it died, just waiting."

"For what?"

"The plan to unfold." Adamar's eyes were filled with peace as he looked up at her and grinned. Leaping off the boulder with a whoop of glee, he ran back to the trolls.

"The plan?" Kyla's voice was small.

"The prophecy." Jethro's chest constricted.

Kyla looked at him, her eyes troubled.

"What is it?"

"Seven hundred years, Jethro." She gripped her forehead. "He's been waiting an eternity and has not one complaint."

Jethro gazed across the fire at the happy boy who was climbing up Raji's arm and laughing.

"He does seem a merry soul."

"But how!" Kyla jumped down from her place. "Look at the hope on his face."

Jethro did as he was told and swallowed. "And we are now responsible for him."

"If this prophecy is true and Oron did choose me, then he's a fool."

He glanced at her and shook his head.

"I'm not capable of this. All I've ever done, my whole life, is let people down. I will fail again and the darkness will win because of it."

Jumping from his spot, he approached her with quick steps, gently grasped her shoulders and moved his head until they were eye to eye. "That is not true."

Kyla shook her head and looked down.

"You may have let your mother down on numerous occasions," he chuckled. "But out here..." He spread his arms wide and then pointed to the stars above him. "Kyla, you were born for this." He could feel his eyes glowing and for the first time since hearing the queen's decision to unite Athra and Kyla in marriage, he hid none of what he felt. "Believe that Oron feels exactly the same way about you as I do...there's no one else I'd rather be out here with."

Her eyes warmed at his quiet words, and he couldn't help being taken by her beauty yet again. He lowered his gaze and scratched the back of his neck. The memory of her succulent lips massacred his brain. He stepped away from her.

"We should get some rest. Who knows what tomorrow will bring."

Kyla sighed and shot him a glum smile. She knew what he was doing.

Clearing her throat, she jutted out her chin. "Well, if you're right, then we will find water next. Through earth, water, wind and fire..." She spun her finger as she listed them.

He pointed at her. "I guess that's your arm then."

She pulled up her sleeve and rubbed her hand over the water tattoo. Jethro willed the map to form as she did it. Nothing happened.

Dropping her arm, she glanced up at him, opened her mouth to speak, and then shook her head and walked away.

Part of him was dying to know what was on her mind; another wanted to run for the hills. Clearing his throat, he turned and approached the trolls.

Without a word, Raji picked him up and placed him on the soft part of his shoulder next to Adamar. He grinned at the cheerful cherub beside him and shook his head. His family would never believe this.

Glancing over the fire, he watched Kyla take a seat beside Neema, snuggling into her horse's side. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she suddenly looked like the girl he'd found crying in the tower when Papa had not returned home. He wanted to jump down and sit beside her, but he made his body remain where it was.

It was not his place to comfort her, and the more he did it, the weaker he became. Their hot kiss played in his brain again and he closed his eyes and grimaced. He had just made things a million times harder for himself. Now he knew what he was missing out on.
Chapter 20

Kyla turned on her side and caught a glimpse of Jethro across the fire. He had finished laughing with the trolls a while ago and was now asleep, blissfully unaware of the angry mind daggers she was firing at him.

After his sweet words at dinner, she thought he might come sit with her; they could share some friendly banter like they used to, fall asleep close enough to keep whispering as the flames died down to embers. Instead he had sat as far from her as he could, chatting to the trolls, and the only time he did look at her, he had closed his eyes and grimaced.

She wondered if he'd been thinking about the kiss. She wished she could stop thinking about it! It kept bouncing into her brain, filling her body with everything from hunger to shame. When his lips had connected with hers, she had been horrified, but she'd never felt anything like it. The fact he had been half naked hadn't helped. All she'd wanted to do was wrestle her hands free so she could run them over the hard plains of his bare chest. Her mind had been screaming at her to pull away, but she couldn't. She'd wanted more...and the feeling wasn't fading.

The thought had been harassing her all evening. Kissing Athra was nice, but kissing Jethro was beyond compare. How could that be so?

She had always seen Jethro as a brother, but now...She glanced at his back and felt her skin catch fire as she relived their brief moment of passion. The smile that was slowly rising over her lips fled as her memory got up to the part where he had pulled away from her. His regret had been so obvious, she nearly felt insulted by it.

She had wanted to ask him about it before dinner, ask him why he had kissed her, but she lacked the courage. He had probably just been trying to get her attention, to stop her senseless attack.

Touching her cheekbone with a tentative finger, she winced.

She didn't understand what his problem was. If he did regret the kiss, couldn't he just apologise for it and move on? When they fought in the past, it would usually take less than a day for them to find each other, mumble apologies, punch each other in the arm and run off as kindred spirits once more. She supposed it was different this time, but still...she despised Jethro The Brooding and desperately missed Jethro The Clown. She wanted things to go back to the way they were...even if it did mean missing out on a kiss that had sent a fire racing through her body.

She pinched her arm, annoyed with herself for being so affected by it. She didn't have a right to feel this way! Forcing all the soft sentiments from her mind, she fuelled her anger by remembering Jethro's stubborn silence before dinner and the way he shut down every time he started being nice to her.

She crossed her arms tight over her chest.

"Well if he's not going to talk to me, then I won't talk to him," she whispered over her shoulder. Neema grunted and shook her mane.

With a huff, she snuggled her back against her precious horse. The canyon air was freezing at night, making the beauty of the stars harder to enjoy. She thought of home and her warm bed. The piles of blankets she used to snuggle under kept her warm through even the worst winters.

Her mind danced to thoughts of Athra and her promise to come back if things were falling apart. She squeezed her eyes shut, berating herself. Things were hardly dire! They were just painful...and it was all Jethro's fault.

She began spinning the ring on her thumb as their fight played through her mind, from the second she threw that rock to the moment she screamed that she hated him. She wouldn't let herself relive the kiss and kept stopping the memory at the peak of her rage.

"I hate you," she muttered the words with a rueful grimace.

She had said that to him a hundred times when they were children, but she'd always followed it up with her "fire of a thousand suns" line, which seemed to take the sting out of it. When she'd spat the hateful words at him today, she'd meant every one of them...and then he had kissed her.

She winced.

Huddling into a ball, she studied Jethro's mop of ragged curls. Never in a million years would she have thought to hate her "twin" and then go and kiss him. Never in a million years would she have expected him to pull so far away from her, especially after such a kiss.

The familiar sadness she once thought she'd drown in tried to creep onto her shoulders, but she bashed it away with her anger. Who needed him anyway? She'd much rather spend her days with sweet Athra.

She spun her ring and frowned.

"Would you really?" she whispered.

Clapping her hand over her mouth, she silently scolded herself for thinking such a thing. Of course she would!

She'd take sweet Athra over stubborn Jethro any day of the year.

Her mind fired another doubt at her and her brows puckered.

She didn't want to hear it, but a small part of her could not deny that, although Jethro was acting like a donkey's arse, he was probably the better choice for this particular quest. She didn't even understand why.

"Alright fine," she whispered to the air. "Let's just pretend the kiss never happened... and if he apologises for the fight, I'll return the favour."

She nodded, feeling good about her new resolve, yet still completely unsatisfied. When she'd first found out she was a seeker, she had been overwhelmed with excitement. Seeing the world, seeking out a magical mystery, resurrecting her friendship with Jethro... she had expected it to be the best time of her life, but it was turning out to be nothing of the sort. The weight of their task fell onto her chest again and self-doubt took a battering ram to her soul.

Clutching her jittery stomach, she rolled onto her back.

"How am I supposed to do this?"

One soft step after another, sweet child.

Her father's voice came to her, calm and comforting. She smiled as she remembered the day he had taken her out for her first hunt. Her five-year-old self had held a specially made bow in her tiny fingers, and she had raised it to no avail on several counts.

Eventually she let out a huff and threw it to the ground.

"The animals keep running away! How am I ever supposed to get close enough, Father?"

His eyes had danced with amusement as he collected her bow and arrow from the ground and placed it back into her hands.

"One soft step after another, sweet child."

It had become his little mantra for her. Whenever she got to a point of total frustration and didn't want to continue, he would place his hand on her shoulder and quietly repeat it. Her heart ached with the memory. And then her wrist began to tingle.

Pulling back her sleeve, she ran her finger over the water tattoo. She could barely make it out in the murky light, but then it began to glow. An enchanted smile rested on her lips as she watched the wavy lines swirl and flow down from the tattoo. The road soon lay in front of her, the destination crystal clear.

"The Forest of Gesham." She nodded. "You know, Neema, I've always wanted to go there."

The horse whinnied softly and Kyla grinned. Turning onto her side, she tucked her hands beneath her cheek and closed her eyes. She soon fell into a sleep filled with dreams of the three most important men in her life.

Chapter 21

"Son, I must speak with you."

Athra woke to the sound of his father's voice. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he pushed himself up on the mattress and leaned back against his pillow. Hazy dreams he couldn't decipher still lurked in his mind — battles, Kyla's lips on his, Nikara's beautiful eyes.

He registered his father's expression and the dreams disintegrated.

"What is it?"

His father swallowed and rubbed at his perfectly groomed beard.

"Any movement on this map of yours?"

"How do you know about that?" Athra threw aside his covers and scrambled out of bed.

"The queen told me."

Athra stormed towards the table and snatched up the map. "She was not supposed to utter a word to anybody."

"She tells me everything, you know that already."

Athra snorted and unrolled the map for his father to see.

"They have been in the Canyon Lands for the last few days, and they seem to have stopped overnight here." Athra pointed at the map. "Hmmm, looks like they're on the move again."

His father let out a relieved sigh. "Good. You must let me know if they stop for too long."

"Why?" Fear curled in Athra's belly as he rolled up the map.

He watched his father pace away from him, obviously reluctant to share.

"Father, what is going on?"

He spun to face him, his eyes filled with compassion and concern. "I finally got the truth from the royal guards this morning."

"Trolls?"

His father grinned and shook his head. "Well, yes, that is the main reason they did not venture into the canyons...but trolls are not what I fear now."

Athra's heart was thumping so loud he could hear it in his ears. "Father, what? Please, just tell me."

"On their return they spotted a small contingent of riders heading west, towards the Canyon Lands. They were men of Mezrah."

"Soldiers?" Athra stepped around the table.

"They were dressed in plain clothes, but they were armed...and obviously tracking something."

"Did they see the royal guards?"

"They are fairly sure the men did not see them."

"So Safeer knows then. He's sent trackers after Kyla and Jethro."

"It is only a theory."

The air fled Athra's lungs and he had to lean against the table for support.

"How would he even know?"

Varon shrugged. "The queen does say these walls have ears."

"But I was so careful when Safeer visited."

"This is not your fault, son." Varon squeezed his shoulder.

"What if they are captured? Will they be tortured for information? What will Ashan do to them?"

Varon ran his fingers over his short beard. "The fact they are moving again is a good sign."

"Not if they've being forced to Ravma because the trackers have caught them already." Athra unrolled the map and studied it again. Running his finger over Kyla's black blotch.

"We cannot dwell on that fact. We have to assume that Ashan would want them dead. If the trackers do catch them, they will surely kill them."

"Oh, thank you, Father. That is a wonderful comfort." Athra crossed his arms, scowling deeply.

"I did not want to trouble you with this news, and I have chosen not to tell the queen. When she mentioned the map, I thought I should at least see it. We must trust that movement is a good sign. I will not give up on the seekers yet, however it does increase our need for an army. If Ashan knows the prophecy is starting to unfold, he will do everything in his power to stop it. If he manages to thwart their journey, he will surely take Taramon. We must be prepared for such an outcome."

Athra nodded, unable to form anything coherent. Images of Kyla being captured and tortured for the truth assailed him. Her lying dead on the ground followed quickly in their wake. He squeezed his eyes shut.

A firm hand landed on his shoulder.

"Focus on the army, son. Stay busy with that vision. Thinking of her will only cause you pain."

Athra looked up at his father's broken expression and knew he understood the torment of lost love. He stood tall and put on a brave face, wanting to show his father his strength.

It wasn't until his father had left the room that he slumped back against the table and dropped his head into his hands.

*****

Athra was standing in the north-east turret, gazing out at the spectacular mountain range. The ever-present map lay at his feet, and he kept glancing at it, no doubt searching for that blotch of ink.

Nikara studied him from the top of the stairs. Lifting the hem of her dress, she approached him on soft feet and gently cleared her throat.

"Hello, Lord Athra."

He spun around and gifted her a stunning smile, but it quickly faded. Somehow, it did not detract from his handsome face, which she quite enjoyed studying. She walked towards him and leaned against the stones.

"You look pensive. Does something distress you, my lord?"

"No." He shook his head. "Unless we start talking about the fact my fiancée is on the other side of this earth, doing who knows what for this prophecy." He spat out the word.

She placed her small hand in the crook of his elbow and squeezed. "Be still. Everything will be alright."

"Will it?" He huffed. "She's not designed for this kind of quest. She's a princess, who's lived most of her life within these walls. I mean, yes, she's hunted with her father and done a little sword—" He glanced down at her and pushed a tight smile across his lips. "Well, she played sword fighting while growing up, but she's hardly prepared for this. What if she is captured?"

"By whom?"

Nikara's eyes narrowed as he shook his head with a grim smile. Squeezing his arm again, she tried to encourage him to look at her.

"Oron would not have chosen Princess Kyla if she was not the right person for the task."

"I know. I know. I need to have some faith." He sighed and picked up the map at his feet, showing it to her. The blotch was moving south through the Harabi Desert.

Nikara took it from him and studied it closely. "Where do you think they are headed?"

"All I can hope is not Ravma."

She glanced at him and tipped her head.

"The western city was taken many years ago. It is now a training camp for Ashan's army."

"I had heard this." She lowered the map and looked at him. "You despise this fact, don't you?" She lowered the map.

He shot her a glum smile. "I was born in Ravma. My mother died there. My father managed to escape with me before Ashan closed the city off and killed any he no longer needed."

"How old were you?"

"I was ten when we arrived in Taramon. My father should have left Ravma years earlier, but he did not want to give up on his city."

"Surely you must think of Taramon as home now."

"Yes." Athra's eyes grew distant and he nodded his head. "Once Ashan had destroyed any good that remained in Ravma, he set his eyes on the east."

"He has been ruling Mezrah for many years now." Nikara glanced at Athra's white knuckles as he gripped the stone wall.

"His eyes are shifting to the north."

"You can not know that for certain."

He scoffed quietly and shook his head. "I don't want to lose another home."

"Kyla and Jethro will not fail us." Nikara kept her voice light.

Athra's lower lip curved into a deep frown. He looked out to the mountains and scratched the budding whiskers on his chin.

Nikara studied him. Her eyes narrowed as he refused to return her blatant stare.

"Lord Athra, you do believe in the prophecy, don't you?"

"Yes, of course." His voice was quiet and somewhat absent.

"It would be foolish to do otherwise." She squeezed his arm again and waited for him to look at her.

She kept her expression warm and peaceful, but it turned to stone when he glanced away. He was hiding something, and she couldn't shake the feeling that it was something dangerous.

Running her hand down the length of his arm, she turned to gaze out at the mountains with him. Outright questioning was obviously not the way to work him. Leaning her head against his shoulder, she let out a soft sigh and murmured, "It is so beautiful here."

She felt his body tense at her forward behaviour, but he didn't try to move away from her. A knowing smile spread over her lips.

All she needed now was a little patience. Trust took time to build, and she could not afford to be in a hurry. If she wanted the truth, she was going to have to work for it...and she had a feeling she knew exactly what would work best.

She glanced at the map Athra had returned to the floor and watched the black splotch pulse through the desert. Kyla would be away for weeks, maybe even months. The queen wanted Mordekai close while they waited for the prophecy to unfold, which meant she would be around for a good long while.

That was plenty of time to accomplish all she needed to.

Chapter 22

The glare of the sun was unbearable. Kyla squinted across the vast ocean of sand. Giving Neema a soft kick, she urged her down the slope. They had been at this for nearly four days and Kyla was ready for it to end.

According to Adamar, the safest way to the forest was through the desert. Kyla's suggestion of skirting around the edge was frowned upon immediately, as it would have taken them too close to the western city of Ravma. Apparently the trolls had detected a foreign scent in the air when they were packing to leave, so everyone was on high alert. Kyla now doubted it was the royal guard of Taramon; surely they would have caught up to them in the Canyon Lands. Jethro was wondering if Ashan had caught wind of their journey. This idea had filled Kyla with a toxic fear and quickly dampened her complaints about heading over the sandy terrain.

So it was through the middle of the desert they went. Adamar's knowledge of the area was far superior to hers and Jethro's and so they followed him without question.

Kyla glowered at the back of his head as she wiped a trickle of sweat from the side of her face. She was beginning to wonder if they'd done the right thing, trusting an eight-year-old boy. She didn't care about the 700 years, he was still little and his voice was so child-like...not to mention those dimples. It was hard to take him seriously.

She caught up with the chattering duo as they got to the bottom of the hill. Adamar had been talking like a magpie, and Jethro seemed enthralled by everything he had to say. Kyla had caught snippets, but the constant chatter grated on her nerves, and her reasons why were so immature, she couldn't even admit them to herself.

Patting Neema's neck, she crooned about what a good girl she was.

"We'll find a place to rest soon." She scratched Neema's mane.

At least she hoped they would...and preferably not a sandy one. What she wouldn't give for a dip in the waterhole back home. Closing her eyes, she could smell the fresh green pine needles on the trees and feel the dry brown ones crunch beneath her feet as she raced towards the cool haven. As children she and Jethro would scramble up the large rock, pulling off their clothing as they went. They would reach the top in nothing but their undergarments. Taking her hand, Jethro would give her a wink and they'd jump off the rock together, letting out gleeful screams as they plunged into the water below.

"I see it!" Adamar's bright voice pulled Kyla from her memory and she followed his pointing finger to a mass of greenery.

"Is that the forest?" Jethro asked.

"The edge of it. Yes." Adamar grinned.

Kyla wanted to spur Neema forward and gallop the whole way there, but she knew her tired horse didn't have it in her. Instead she impatiently nibbled her lip as she followed Adamar's incessant jabber through the last part of the desert.

She frowned and looked away from the boy, trying to ignore him. It's not that he was boring. In fact some of Adamar's stories about living in the desert were fascinating. She had also learned that the other three elements were children as well, and the four of them had tailed Oron until his death. He was a little sketchy on some details of his time with Oron. Most of his stories were funny little anecdotes that had obviously embedded themselves in his soul.

When Jethro tried to probe him more on Oron's death and the final battle with Kohlac, Adamar's face pinched with sadness and tears began to glisten in his big, brown eyes.

He would shake his head, and his lips would form a tight little line across his face.

Kyla was glad Jethro had the sense not to press him. Instead Adamar continued to tell various tales about how kind and caring Oron was, and this followed into stories of how wonderful the trolls were. In the end, Kyla began to tune him out. She hadn't meant to. She was just so frustrated with being treated like the tail of some mule. Jethro had barely spoken two words to her since they had bid the trolls farewell. An apology had been nowhere in sight.

Adamar had been sullen after saying goodbye to his beastly family. Raji had cried so loud, his wails had echoed off the canyon walls. Kyla had felt the air vibrating around them as she covered her ears as politely as she could. Mama Troll had held him tight and called out words that Kyla assumed meant goodbye and I love you. The sounds followed them until the trolls were well out of sight. Kyla didn't know what to say to bolster Adamar's spirits, and Jethro, who was known for his ability to make people laugh, had obviously had his humour gland removed, because he said not a word.

As night fell, Adamar's mood improved. He had accepted his fate and moved on. Kyla was surprised by his hasty transition, but he seemed happy. He tried to get them talking as a trio. At first it was wonderful, animated conversation flowed easily, but then Jethro would suddenly frown and go quiet, as if he remembered something.

Probably the kiss he wished he had never given her.

In the end, Kyla found his erratic mood swings intolerable and so retreated. She noticed that when she did, Jethro would come to life again and conversation between the two boys would flow naturally.

Studying the back of Jethro's head, she had to admit that his behaviour must be her fault. Yet again she had let someone she loved down. The thought was a heavy wound to her fragile heart, which she refused to show anyone. Sitting up straight in her saddle, she added another layer to her defensive wall and rode past the boys.

The forest loomed ahead of them, green and luscious. A broad smile spread over her lips as a sparkle caught her eye.

"Water," she whispered.

Jumping out of the saddle, she stumbled her way towards the aqua gold and plunged her hands into it. She let out a gleeful laugh as she cupped the water in her hands and threw it over her face, rubbing the cool liquid onto the back of her neck as well. Pulling off the scarf she'd been wearing as a sunshade, she dipped it in the water and piled it on top of her head.

A happy sigh eased from her lips as she wrung it out and let the water saturate her hair.

She noticed Jethro by her side, doing the same thing. His eyes were closed and a euphoric grin illuminated his face.

Forgetting herself, she scooped up a handful of water and flicked it at him. His eyes popped wide with surprise, before he bent into the water and returned the favour. She laughed wildly as they began a frenzied attack on each other.

They were soon saturated and giggling like a pair of children. Slicking her hair back, Kyla smiled at him and watched the light leave his eyes. He swallowed hard and looked away from her.

"What! What is it?" She slammed her hand onto the surface of the water, creating a fresh spray.

Jethro flinched away from it and went to rise.

"Why do you keep pulling away from me? What have I done wrong?"

"Nothing," he mumbled.

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms.

"It's that damn kiss, isn't it?"

His face blanched as he looked to the ground.

"Look, if you're worried about it, I'm not planning on telling Athra."

He kicked the dirt at his feet, keeping his gaze on the ground.

She sighed. "Why did you kiss me?"

He shrugged and looked across the waterhole. "I had to get your attention somehow. You were blind with rage. What else was I supposed to do?"

The answer stung much more than she expected it to. She hated that her suspicions were right. He hadn't wanted to kiss her at all...and that's why he regretted doing it so much. She swallowed and looked away in an attempt to hide her disappointment, not that she had a right to feel that way! She was engaged to another man, for goodness sake. She should be regretting the kiss as much as Jethro was, but as hard as she tried, she couldn't quite get there. Clamping her teeth together, she forced an image of Athra through her mind and straightened her shoulders.

"Let's just pretend it never happened."

He glanced up at her, relieved. She nearly let him off the hook, but after a week of the silent treatment, she couldn't do it. This entire quest would be unbearable if they couldn't work this out.

"Jethro, please. I just want to be friends again. I don't...I don't want you to hate me anymore."

His eyes bulged. "I don't hate you. I never could."

"Then what is it? Why do keep acting as though you wish you didn't know me?"

He ran a hand through his damp curls.

She joined him and stood right in his path. "You've been even worse since our fight."

He glanced away from her.

"Do you feel guilty for punching a lady in the face? Is that it?"

He gave her a droll look. "I would hardly call you a lady."

She fought a grin. "You are such a pig." She slapped his chest. "Tell me the truth, Jethro."

His face went pale.

She shoved him. "Tell me!"

"I can't." He looked wounded.

"Why not?"

He shook his head and took a pace away from her.

Stepping right up to his nose, she put her hands on her hips and lifted her chin. "You tell me or I'll..."

He peered down his nose at her, his eyes beginning to glimmer. "Or you'll what?"

She never could get him to take her threats seriously. With an angry huff, she went to shove him again, but he grabbed her arms and flung her into the water. The ease with which he hefted her was a testament to his strength; she landed with a mighty splash and came up spluttering. She flicked the hair from her face and coughed.

He smiled back at her dark glare and crossed his arms. "Better than a punch in the face?"

His smile grew even wider as his shoulders shook with mirth.

"Jethro!" She put one waterlogged boot in front of the other as she waded out of the pool. "I'm going to—"

She gasped and froze. Something was in the water.

She felt it glide past her legs.

*****

"What is it?" Jethro stepped forward. Why wasn't she climbing out? He was about to stretch out his hand and drag her onto dry land when her eyes grew huge. Her scream was lost as her body was swiftly pulled beneath the water.

"Kyla!" Jethro's heart pounded as he scanned the surface.

Her head popped up across the other side of the pool, her mouth gaping open in search of air, and then she was gone.

"Kyla!" Yanking off his boots, he dove into the water, ignoring all of Adamar's shouts of warning.

Swimming to the other side, he ducked beneath the surface and scanned the murky pool for Kyla's body. He stayed down until he thought his lungs might burst. Rising for a quick gulp of air, he plunged beneath the surface again and spotted a slimy yellow tail as it whipped past him. He reached out and grabbed it. The skin was squishy and nearly slipped right out of his grasp. He squeezed tight, snatched the dagger from his belt and rammed it into the tail. The animal jerked and writhed.

Jethro came up for air and noticed Kyla's hand pop up from the surface as the animal wriggled. He glimpsed her face breaking the surface, before it sank beneath again.

He was mindful of the fact that she was running out of precious air. Pulling his dagger free, he dropped beneath the water and swam after his prey. The snake-like creature was thick and long. He kept his hand on the edge of its greasy body until he reached Kyla's boot.

He sank his dagger into the animal again, trying to free its grip around Kyla. The snake writhed once more, and Jethro was soon facing a thick set of fangs as the animal bent its neck around to attack him.

He ducked away, a moment before the fangs could sink into his shoulder. Punching the snake on the top of its head, he swung around and tried to kick its body. Anything to get Kyla free. Rising to the surface, he brought his foot down on the snake, but missed. The beast rose from the water and launched towards him.

All he could see were two sharp fangs, dripping with venom. The snake's open mouth was wide enough to swallow his head whole.

He drew in a breath, his eyes bulging so wide they hurt.

Then the creature let out a piercing scream and jerked to the side. Jethro thrust the dagger into the snake's neck as Kyla lifted hers once more and made another deep cut. The animal screamed again, rising out of the water in a flurry of uncontrolled twists.

They both backed away as the animal danced in the air and then disappeared beneath the surface.

Kyla's face was white as she scanned the water of the swiftly moving river they were now in. It wasn't until he started swimming towards her that he realized just how swiftly the river was flowing.

Chapter 23

The water swirled around them as Jethro moved towards her. Kyla felt the pressure of it pulling at her clothing. The minimal grip she had on the rock disappeared.

She caught her breath as her body went under, wondering for a moment how it was possible to survive a water snake attack, only to drown moments later.

She flailed her arms and kicked her legs as she tried to right her body. Just when she thought her lungs would split open, a solid hand gripped her collar and tugged her north.

She broke the surface with a gasp and clung to Jethro's arm as they sped through the water. A large chunk of hair was slicked across her face, making it hard to see. She tried to brush it away, but the current made it impossible to do anything but be hauled along in it.

Jethro reached for a low-lying branch as they moved past it. Their bodies jerked to a stop.

She clutched his arm and dragged herself closer to him, fighting the current with the minimal strength she had left. Coughing into his shoulder, she sniffed and said, "I think I prefer a punch to the face, actually."

A nervous chuckle bounced out of his mouth. She could feel his biceps quivering as he fought to hold on. He didn't have the strength to pull them out of this river.

They both knew it.

His expression was full of remorse as he caught her eye.

"Don't say sorry until we're dead." She forced a smile and could tell he appreciated her comment.

"Time to take our chances then?"

She couldn't form any words, so sufficed with a simple nod. He turned her around so they were face to face and pulled her close.

"Whatever you do, don't let me go."

She swallowed and wrapped her arms around his neck as he let go of the branch. They both gasped as the water took them. Their bodies swirled and churned in the river. They came up for air whenever they could. The river did its best to pull their bodies apart, but they kept fighting the water, grappling to stay connected.

As the river narrowed, they had to kick and push to fight off rocks, and eventually their battered bodies were heading straight for the edge of a cliff.

"Waterfall?" Kyla managed to squeak between mouthfuls of water.

Without a word, Jethro manoeuvred their bodies so their feet were heading for the drop first. As the inevitable drew near, they squeezed their eyes shut and tensed.

Kyla let out a scream as her body plummeted through the air. Soon her boots were crashing through the water, and she was caught beneath a churning mass, the force so strong she felt she was being pounded by a blacksmith's hammer.

Fighting to break free, she kicked and thrashed to no avail. Then she felt a hand grasp her arm. She locked her fingers around Jethro's thick forearm and kicked as hard as she could. She soon rose to the surface.

As they swam away, she turned to look at the waterfall behind her and couldn't help an awestruck chuckle.

How had they survived that?

Jethro splashed through the water beside her, making his way to the edge of the pool. Yanking on her shirt, he helped pull her to the edge and they both flopped onto a large rock, coughing and spluttering. With their feet still dangling in the water, they laid their heads on the cool stone beneath them.

Kyla's lungs were on fire. Water streamed from her nose and spewed out of her mouth. She continued to cough and splutter, so much so, she didn't even hear Adamar approaching with the horses.

It wasn't until a shadow fell across her dripping face that she turned her weak head to gaze at his feet.

"You know, there are easier ways to get into the forest. You should have taken the path like I did."

She shot a look at Jethro before they both glowered up at him. His giggle made it impossible to stay mad.

*****

It took a while for Kyla's muscles to do as they were told, but eventually she climbed out of the water. As soon as she was standing, Neema muscled her way past Hava and Jethro to reach her. With soft little whinnies she bumped Kyla's face with her nose.

"It's okay, girl. I'm fine." She scratched Neema's nose and leaned her cheek against her horse's strong jaw, loving her.

Tears threatened to rise as the weight of her ordeal suddenly caught up with her, but she sniffed them back, forcing a jovial laugh as she patted Neema's neck. The horse knew she was faking it and snorted softly to tell her so.

Kyla gave her a sidelong glance before taking the reins and walking after the boys again.

The trip through the water had taken them right into the forest. Kyla was struck immediately by its beauty. Once again her eyes were accosted by images she had only ever imagined. She gazed up at the high trees around her, their trunks decorated with twisting vines and green moss. The forest floor was covered with all manner of vegetation, but it was unlike home. She was used to dry earth and pine needles at her feet...everything about this forest seemed wet and humid. Climbing over a fallen trunk, her boots skidded on the slick surface and she tugged on Neema's reins to catch herself.

"Sorry, girl."

Neema pulled her forward, obviously wanting to stay close to the others. Kyla glanced up to see Jethro doing exactly what she was. She could only see the side of his face, but his lips were parted and his eyes looked to be glimmering with awe. His head whipped back and forth as he seemed to spot one new sight after another.

Kyla grinned. They were finally getting the adventure they used to dream about as children. She nearly called it out but held her tongue. She didn't want to scare him back into being quiet Jethro, particularly since he had just shot her that classic wink she adored.

Without meaning to, she started to study Jethro instead of the forest and couldn't help admitting how handsome he had become over the last few years. His gangly limbs had grown strong, his broad shoulders and muscles now in comparison with each other. She remembered the strength of his arm around her waist as he held her in the water and his kiss flashed before her again.

Shaking her head, she frowned and scolded herself, yet a blush crept over her skin and she couldn't help a small smile.

She wanted to slap herself.

Gritting her teeth, she flicked a frizzy strand of hair off her face and tried not to notice how much Jethro's hair was curling as it dried in the damp heat. She forced her eyes away from him and was glad she did, otherwise she would have missed the frog with the big orange eyes resting on a vivid green leaf and watching her walk by. Next she spotted a vibrant blue snake that was wrapped around a tree branch. She flinched away from the skinny tongue that darted back and forth from its mouth as if warning her to keep her distance.

"Stay close, Kyla. This forest has many surprises."

Adamar's warning was easily heeded as she chased after them. Catching up, she found a gap in the forest that allowed her to sidle up beside Jethro. She bumped her shoulder with his and gave him a smile. He returned it, but she could see the shadow falling over his face again.

No! She thought. Desperate to avoid another shut down, she tried to think of something light and witty to say.

"Thank you for helping me...in the river."

She looked away and rolled her eyes. Hardly witty!

Jethro cleared his throat. "Just doing what anyone would have."

She grinned. "You underestimate yourself, Jethro. You always have."

Glancing back, she noticed the shadow had nearly dropped completely. She wanted to cry and stamp her feet. This wasn't fair!

"Jethro, you are impossible. Can a girl not give you a compliment?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away.

She spotted Adamar studying them out of the corner of his eye. His dimples were popping in and out of place. She chose to ignore them.

"Fine, then. Have it your way." She shrugged. "Jethro, you are a stubborn, pig-headed mule whose mood swings can be compared to that of a woman with child."

He slowly turned towards her, his glare rivalling that of her mother's. She couldn't help a snicker.

Looking at her nails, she grinned. "You really should reconsider your behaviour. How will you ever find a bride? I don't know a girl alive who could handle you."

Her smile faded as she glanced up and noticed that his look had darkened even further... if that was even possible. She made a face at him, which she was hoping would make him laugh. Unfortunately, it made him look sad, which she preferred much less than anger.

Her face crinkled with a confused frown, but he turned away before he saw it. Giving Hava's reins a sharp tug, he pulled ahead of them and stomped forward through the forest.

"Jeth—"

She looked down to find Adamar at her feet, shaking his head.

"What?"

With a disapproving sigh, he followed after Jethro, and Kyla was left completely bewildered and frustrated. The idea that maybe Jethro was jealous that she was getting married skirted through her brain, but she flicked it off immediately. Jethro was strong, funny, compassionate...he could get any girl he wanted.

An envious spike tore through her centre and she silently berated herself. Now who was jealous!

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she willed herself to stop thinking. She pulled Neema behind her. Following yet again.

Then she heard a buzzing sound.

She stopped in her tracks and instinctively pulled her sword from its sheath. Jethro whipped around at the shing of her weapon.

"Do you hear that?" Kyla bent her knees, preparing herself for battle as the buzz grew louder.

Neema jittered beside her.

"It's okay, girl." Scanning the forest vegetation, Kyla's head jerked from one point to the next, hunting for the swarm of whatever seemed to be coming. It almost sounded like bees, but louder...and scarier.

Her knuckles went white as she gripped the hilt of her sword.

"Behind you," Jethro whispered.

She spun around and saw the buzzing cloud approaching. She ducked her head as they whizzed overtop of her. She was hoping that might be it, but the buzzing didn't fly by; if anything it seemed to be hovering above them.

She glanced to the sky and noticed the thick swarm were doing just that. Neema grunted and jerked, obviously wanting to get away from the small creatures.

"Are those dragonflies?" She gave Neema a reassuring pat as they looked up at them. The swarm was a mixture of vibrant colours — blues, reds, oranges, greens. They looked beautiful. Their large wings fluttered at a mile a second as they hovered just above her; she reached out to touch one. It jerked away from her, but not before nipping her finger.

"Ow!" She sucked the tiny wound.

"I didn't know dragonflies could sting." Jethro looked bemused and a little entertained by her predicament.

Kyla glared at him until Jethro jumped back and rubbed his arm. She snorted.

"I don't think these are normal dragonflies."

The shake in Adamar's voice made her mirth scuttle away. She licked her lips and looked to the swarm. The buzz in the air seemed to ignite further, and then, as if by some silent command, the dragonflies raised themselves up and plummeted towards them.

Kyla shielded her face and bashed at them with the flat of her sword. The swarm buzzed angrily as the trio fought them off. The horses bucked and neighed, rising to their hind legs as the insects went after them.

"No!" Kyla swiped at the bugs, ignoring her own stings in order to protect Neema, who was ready to bolt.

The attack lasted all of two minutes but felt much longer. The swarm, obviously satisfied with their work, buzzed off, leaving their wounded to twitch on the ground until they lay still. Kyla took a moment to settle her terrified horse before crouching down to study the colourful insects. She poked them with the tip of her sword. A green slime oozed from the open wounds on their tiny bodies.

She waved her hand in front of her nose and grimaced.

"Whatever that is inside them, it stinks." She wrinkled her nose and stood. Using the edge of her shirt, she wiped the goop from her blade and sheathed her sword. She studied her exposed forearms and noticed the small bite marks beginning to swell and itch.

She scratched them.

"Don't." Adamar, who had finally managed to calm Hava, raised his hand. "It'll make it worse."

"But it's itchy!" She refrained from using her nails and started rubbing them with her fingers instead.

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Adamar shrugged, ignoring the welts on his chest and turning to comfort Hava some more.

Kyla bent to study Neema's legs. Her poor horse was jittering around, but she noticed that the welts were already fading due to the fact Neema could do nothing to scratch them.

"Good girl." Kyla patted her horse. "They'll be gone soon."

Flipping open her saddlebag, she took out a treat for her horse. Neema nibbled it out of her hand.

It was then Kyla noticed just how quiet Jethro was being. It wasn't unusual of late, but even so. It seemed impossible for him to not have at least one quip after an attack like that.

She put on her happy face and looked over at him, trying to think of something light to ease the mood. She opened her mouth and quickly swallowed back her comment.

"Jethro?"

Racing towards him, she dropped to her knees at his side. He had slumped to the ground and was leaning against a tree; his skin felt hot and dry and the welts on his arms were swelling so much they were merging into one another.

"I don't feel very good," he whispered.

Chapter 24

Adamar was at their side in an instant. Stripping Jethro of his bow and quiver, he ripped open his shirt, revealing huge red blotches all over his chest.

The little boy frowned, sending Kyla into a near panic.

"What's wrong with him?"

Jethro watched her eyes glisten with fear and wanted to reassure her, but he couldn't speak. His lungs felt so tight he could barely expand them. His throat was swollen and his skin was itching so much it burned.

"He must be allergic to the dragonfly bites."

"Help him, Adamar. Do something!"

"I don't know how."

His quiet words were a punch in the chest. Jethro swallowed painfully and tried to lick his lips. The world around him was turning fuzzy. He closed his eyes to ward off the dizzy spell. He thought his head might spin off.

A gourd was pressed to his lips and he spluttered against the liquid inching down his throat. The boy sighed.

"We have to do something. I'm going to find help. You stay with him." Adamar's voice was filled with confidence.

"And do what?" Kyla's was not.

"Start praying."

"What?" Kyla's whispered reply was ignored.

Jethro listened to the sound of feet bounding away and then Kyla's rapid breathing.

"Jethro? Can you hear me?"

He wished he could respond, but his liquid muscles refused to comply. Energy seeped from his body and he wasn't sure if he could stay conscious for much longer. He felt Kyla's hand slide around the back of his neck and squeeze. Her long fingers on his skin felt better than he liked to admit.

He could tell by her intermitted sniffing that Kyla was fighting tears. He wanted to wake up and brush them away. He hated being the cause of them, but what could he do?

His head lolled against the trunk. Kyla's grip on his neck tightened, and then he felt her moving around. She pushed his body forward so she could shuffle behind him and lay his head on her shoulder. Draping one arm over his chest, she used her other hand to smooth the hair off his forehead.

"I don't know how to pray anymore," she said softly. "I gave up on talking to Oron a long time ago."

Jethro's mind floated to the day she informed him that she no longer believed in the God of Light. If he did exist, then he wouldn't have let her father die. Her little face had been hard and obstinate, her chin held high and her shoulders taut. He hadn't known how to respond, so gathered her hand within his own and held it tight. His touch had calmed her a little, but there had been nothing he could do to change her resolve.

"I guess if you think about it logically, if this prophecy is true...then you can't die. You are a seeker, so you have to seek...with me." Kyla's voice caught and she squeezed him. "So, you can't die, Jethro. You're not allowed to."

She sniffed and he felt a drop land on the side of his face.

"You've always been there," she whispered. "I can't imagine my life without you in it." Her voice shook. "Jethro, I don't want a life without you in it."

Her words were both a soothing balm and an axe to his soul. He couldn't imagine life without her either, but he would soon have to face it or endure endless days of watching her be with another man. He wished he could explain it, but he wasn't willing to reveal his true feelings. It would only cause a rift between them.

There already is a rift between you, you fool! And it's your fault.

Kyla sniffed. Another tear landed on his cheek and trickled down to his chin. Another followed in its wake and another.

Every tear was a whiplash to his soul. He hated it when she cried. He hated it even more when he was the cause.

As each tear landed on him, a new resolve formed inside. He was going to come out of this ordeal alive, but the Jethro of late was not. Letting his mind fly for the first time in over a year, he brought forward all the happy memories he and Kyla had created throughout the years. He let them wash over him in rolling, dream-like waves and felt his swollen lips trying for a smile. The end of this journey would be the death of his friendship with Kyla, he was sure of this. But the journey had not ended yet...and until it did, the Jethro Kyla grew up with would be resurrected.

*****

It took an age for Adamar to return. Kyla heard the sound of quick feet rustling through the undergrowth and clutched Jethro to her. He was so still now that she couldn't be sure he was alive.

"Is he breathing?" Adamar crouched down beside her and listened to his chest. "I can hear his heartbeat."

Closing her puffy eyes, Kyla breathed in the relief. When she opened them she let out a short scream.

Less than an inch from her face was a striking set of green eyes. They were rimmed with black paint and studying her with such intensity she could not maintain eye contact. Her fingers curled into Jethro's shirt as the strange young man cocked his head, like a bird's, and sniffed her hair.

"What are you doing?" She shied away from him.

He sat back on his haunches and gazed at her again. This time she didn't look away and mirrored his curious expression as she took in his angular features and the bone through his nose.

Ouch! She wrinkled her nose. How did he even get it in there?

His ears were also decorated with ivory, and he wore chains of animal teeth around his neck. Some of them sat so low they came down to his navel.

Kyla would have labelled him a complete barbarian if not for the soft smile residing in his gaze. Her lips rose briefly but couldn't quite form a full welcome.

Adamar tapped him on the arm. The man seemed reluctant to stop looking at Kyla, but dragged his eyes away to acknowledge the shirtless boy beside him. Adamar pointed to Jethro.

The man nodded and looked grim while he studied her friend's red welts. He garbled something in a language even Adamar didn't understand.

Being adept at the use of hands to communicate, Adamar acted out what had happened and pointed to the dragonfly carcasses on the ground. The man's eyes narrowed as he listened. Then he picked up Jethro's limbs and began examining the welts. He brushed Kyla's arm aside and put his ear to Jethro's chest.

Grunting, he sat back and then reached for Jethro.

Kyla snatched him back. The man looked annoyed, flicked her hands away and grabbed Jethro's arms once more.

"What are you doing?"

Standing tall, he lifted Jethro over his shoulder and began running away from them.

"Wait! Where are you taking him?"

Kyla scrambled to collect their things. Adamar gathered up the horses' reins and began a quick trot after the mysterious man.

"Where did you find him?" Kyla strained to spot Jethro's limp body bobbing in front of them.

"About half a mile south. He was picking plants. I thought he looked like a medicine man."

"How do you know he's going to help us?"

"I just know." He grinned. "The man is a good man. I can feel it."

Kyla shook her head with a frown.

"And he was willing to follow you without a fuss?"

"I acted out sick as best I could." Adamar chuckled.

Kyla squeezed his shoulder. "Well, as long as he's not planning on stealing him, then thank you, I guess."

"It will be okay." His little voice sounded so sure. "You must not fear for your friend. Oron's plans are far greater than you can imagine."

She tried to hide her scepticism so as not to offend him, but she was getting very tired of hearing about Oron's plans. Nearly being killed by a troll, drowned by a river snake, crushed by a waterfall and now losing Jethro to a dragonfly of all things, did not sound like very good planning to Kyla.

Her promise to Athra whistled through her brain as Kyla tried not to trip over glossy tree roots in her haste to keep up with Jethro. Things were starting to get hard...too hard. She didn't see how Jethro was going to survive this ordeal, and there was no way she could complete this quest on her own. Oron had made a huge mistake choosing her as a seeker; surely there was someone better suited for this task.

She felt the necklace, warm against her skin, and suddenly the big adventure didn't seem to matter anymore. All she wanted, at this moment, was home.

Chapter 25

The blotch on the map had started moving again, but it seemed frantic as it jerked throughout the forest, pulsing at high speed. Athra rolled his shoulders, unable to take his eyes from the blotch. Why had their pace quickened? Kyla's heart was beating so fast it looked ready to explode. Were they running from something? Had the trackers found them?

He clenched his left hand before registering the map within it. With frenzied fingers he flattened it back out and watched the blotch move further into the heart of the forest. He had only skirted the western edges of The Forest of Gesham when they snuck out of Ravma years ago, but his memories were still vivid. The colourful reptiles, the poisonous insects, the tigers, the river snakes...the place was hardly safe!

He laid the map on the table and pounded the wood with his fist before lowering his head onto his forearms. A small part of him wanted to burst into tears, which only appalled him. Men did not cry. He certainly would not fall to pieces just because his fiancée was unreachable...and possibly in trouble.

He gritted his teeth and stepped away from the map. He had spent too much of his day studying it. He was all too aware of this fact, but seemed addicted to the torture. The midday sun told him the market would be crammed with merchants and villagers. It was the perfect time to be recruiting men for his army, but also the most dangerous. Listening ears set tongues wagging, and he couldn't afford for the wrong people to find out.

It had been agreed between Varon and Benyamin that all recruiting and training must be done when the city lay in darkness. So far it seemed to be working. They had ten enthusiastic soldiers now, all quite young, but very capable. Varon was trying to work on getting a little more wisdom into the fold, but these were traitorous times, and he had to be careful how he approached each conversation.

Athra crossed his arms and drummed his fingers, itching to do something. He needed a distraction. Maybe he should go for a ride. He could use the excuse to check on the farmland as a reason to get out of the city. Maybe he could even chat to a few of the farmers about his plans for Taramon. Surely if these whispered conversations were conducted outside of the city, then rumours would not spread so fast. He could think of a few able bodied sons who were probably watching the farm while their fathers sold produce at the markets today.

A smile tugged at his lips as he gathered his things and made for the throne room. Since his escapades in setting Kyla free, the queen was watching him like a hawk. He was summoned to her private offices on a daily basis. He always ensured he had the map, as she only ever seemed interested in news of her daughter. She hadn't summoned him yet today, which he found a little odd. He wondered whether he should return for the map, then thought better of it. The fewer people who glimpsed the parchment the better. He would leave it safely in his room until the queen summoned him.

He wanted to sneak out of the castle without informing anyone, but if the queen asked to see him and he could not be found, it would only lead to more trouble. He had to let the queen know his intentions.

He didn't see any reason why she wouldn't let him go. In fact the other day, he had heard his father saying he wanted to check on the outer farmlands. Perhaps his father would like to accompany him. With a nod, he picked up his pace.

As he approached the throne room, he felt a thick tension in the air. He narrowed his eyes at the guards.

"Safeer is visiting," one of them grumbled.

Athra's stomach clenched. That was unexpected. He usually only visited once every couple of months. Was he here about Kyla? How was the queen going to explain herself?

With a frown, Athra stepped into the room.

"Your Majesty, the threat against Taramon grows ever stronger; in order to protect you, we need more resources."

Athra watched the tall ambassador as he addressed the queen. His long black robe, inlaid with an intricate gold design, bespoke of his impeccable taste and his vanity. The man never had a hair out of place. He was sure many women swooned over him, even those in Taramon.

What made him so incredibly ugly to everyone who encountered him was the smug arrogance that seemed to leak from the very pores of his skin.

Safeer's patronising tone made Athra's insides crawl. He hated the little smirk constantly residing on his lips and the way he spoke in slow, soft syllables as if he were talking to imbeciles.

Athra shot a dark glare in his direction. As if sensing it, Safeer turned towards him and the little smirk grew. The amused gleam in Safeer's slanted eyes made Athra want to punch him.

"Lord Athra. How nice to see you again."

Athra forced his lips into a smile and bowed his head ever so slightly. Satisfied, Safeer turned back to the pale queen and addressed her once more.

"Ashan requires ten per cent more of everything you've been supplying."

"Ten per cent?" Her voice was small.

So he wasn't here about the princess. Athra briefly wondered why Safeer would keep the fact that he knew about the quest to himself. Instead he was here to lump more taxes on the people.

"That is ridiculous." Varon stepped towards the tall ambassador. "Our people are already giving your army most of what we have."

"We need more. The army is ever increasing."

"Why?" Athra stood tall and crossed his arms, waiting for Safeer to turn and acknowledge him. "What threat is so ominous that Ashan must continue to expand his army? Who are you fighting?"

Safeer's gaze was black and hard when it landed on Athra. "The darkness is a strong force."

"Ashan is the darkness."

Safeer's face blanched. "How dare you speak of him in such a manner."

He flicked back his robe and approached Athra with fast, clipped steps. Stopping a mere inch from Athra's face, the two men stood nose to nose.

"You overstep your mark, little boy. I would advise you to keep your lips sealed and leave the important conversations for the grown-ups in the room."

Athra clenched his fists. "I am the future king."

Safeer snorted and then burst into laughter. Stepping back, he clapped his hands and spun in a slow circle. His long black robe swished out around him as he addressed the other members of court. "Well, let us hope the queen lives for a very long time then." He looked at Athra and snickered. "Be gone, child. We do not require your counsel for this meeting."

Flicking his hand, he dismissed Athra and then snapped his fingers at the servant beside him. The little man fumbled with the documents in his arms and was slapped over the back of the head while Safeer whispered at him to pull out a copy of the treaty.

Athra's blood was burning in his veins; his muscles were taut and his fists were clenched so tightly he could feel his nails digging into the palms of his hands.

He stepped forward and opened his mouth, but his father gave a small shake of his head. "Not now," he mouthed.

Wanting to hurl something across the room, but knowing it would do no good, he spun on his heel and left. He could feel Safeer's smirking gaze watching him the whole time. He refused to turn back and kept his strides long and quick.

Safeer's day would come. The urge to build up Taramon's army burned with fury inside of him. He didn't care about the queen's permission anymore. He had to get out of this city now.

*****

Athra was mounting his steed when Nikara appeared behind him.

"Where are you going, my lord?"

Her voice was sweet and kind, instantly soothing his nerves.

He pulled himself into the saddle and smiled down at her. He couldn't help noticing the way her rich, black hair cascaded over her shoulder. Her slanted brown eyes were big and beautiful as she gazed up at him.

"For a ride." He swallowed. "There is farmland I would like to check on. It's actually my father's job, but he will be detained for some time I imagine." He steered his glare away from her.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes." He sat up straight in his saddle. "Yes, of course I am."

"You seem flustered."

With a long sigh, Athra gripped the reins and admitted, "Safeer is in the city. He is talking to the queen about the treaty, demanding more." He huffed. "Every time that serpent slithers into this place things get worse. He shouldn't be returning so soon. I was sure after showing him the black rock that all would be well. That we could be left in peace for a while."

Nikara's dark eyes were a mixture of fear and something he couldn't quite place. Her gaze was intense as she studied him.

"Do you think he suspects something?"

"About the prophecy?" Athra frowned.

She shrugged. "And the fact I am here with Mordekai."

He pinched his lips together. Not wanting to scare the girl, he kept his voice light and casual. "There is a chance he may know. We have no solid proof of this, but maybe he is using the treaty as an excuse to enter the city and look for clues. You should probably find some place to hide until Safeer leaves."

She nodded. "I will find Mordekai now and let him know."

He nearly invited her to join him but held his tongue. He didn't want her knowing about the army...for her own protection. He hated the idea of her lying for him. Besides, he didn't want Safeer to accidentally spot her riding out. It was best that she and Mordekai kept themselves locked away in the upper rooms where they were staying.

"Will you be alright?"

She looked up at him and gifted him a grateful smile. He felt his muscles grow warm as he was once again struck by her perfect complexion. Her skin looked so smooth, and his fingers tingled with an urge to touch her cheek.

He gripped the reins and tore his gaze away from her, feeling flustered.

"Well, I must be going—"

"Any news of Princess Kyla?"

She stepped forward and placed her hand on his knee.

He glanced down at her elegant fingers and swallowed.

"Last time I looked they were still in the forest." His shoulders slumped. "Something troubles me though. Their movements were fast and erratic. I fear they may be in danger."

Grasping his hand, she gave him a warm smile. "Do not be afraid, my lord. Oron will protect them...and us."

He cleared his throat and delicately removed his hand from her grasp. With a nod of appreciation, he kicked his horse in the side and left the stables. Her faith was admirable, he couldn't deny it, but for some reason, he was finding her confident statements harder and harder to believe. Oron may well help them but only if they helped themselves. All he could wish for Kyla and Jethro was that they had the strength and wisdom to overcome whatever tests were thrown their way.

Chapter 26

Kyla fought for air as she ran. Panic sizzled in her system. Her legs burned as she raced after the jungle man. Every time she lost sight of Jethro's curly hair she wanted to scream out, "Stop!" but then he would reappear a moment later.

The forest was getting denser the further they proceeded; she was convinced they would lose Jethro before they made it to wherever they were going.

"Hurry, Adamar." She yanked Neema's reins while calling over her shoulder to the small boy. Her horse let out a grunt and Kyla shot her an apologetic glance, taking care to pull a little more gently.

Adamar's black head popped out from behind the green foliage.

"Calm down, young princess. You are no help to Jethro if you fall apart."

"I'm no help to him either way! He's going to die." Her voice caught on the last word and she choked back a sob.

Adamar muttered something to the contrary, but she chose to ignore it. What did he know? He was a little boy! Who was 708 years old.

She huffed and jumped over the log in her path just as Jethro's body ducked out of view again. She expectantly waited for his head to come back into view, but it didn't.

"Jethro!" She let go of Neema's reins and crashed through the bush, flicking various leaves and branches out of her way. She was about to scream out his name again when she stumbled into an open clearing.

She stopped short and drew in a sharp breath. Jethro was being carried up a steep set of rickety wooden stairs that wound around the tallest tree she'd ever seen. She noticed a hut hidden in the branches, about halfway up, and could only assume that the medicine man was taking him in there. A small part of her wanted to stop and drink in this unusual little scene, but her urge to be near Jethro overruled it. It didn't stop her glancing around as she cautiously ascended the tree though.

With no rail on one side of the steps, she kept her hand on the rough bark as she wound around the tree. As her eyes became accustomed to her surroundings, she started spotting huts in other trees and noticed camouflaged rope bridges joining them together. It didn't take long to figure out that she was actually in the heart of a village that lay anywhere from six to ten feet in the air. Her mouth fell open as she studied the intricacies of each hut and the route that connected them all. She then shut her mouth tight and nearly stumbled down the stairs when she started seeing little round faces popping out through doorways and windows. It did not take long for her to be the centre of attention. The sound of pattering feet on wooden bridges filled the air.

In the end she had to squeeze through the curious observers, who had no sense of personal space and common etiquette. They stared at her with unflinching expressions, and in spite of her modest smiles, she got nothing in return.

She let out a little grunt and finally pushed her way into the small hut. Jethro was lying on a wooden mattress on the floor. His face was pale and his lips were slightly blue. Her eyes filled with tears. She went to approach him but was pushed back by an old lady whose face looked like a wrinkled sheet.

"Let me be." Kyla began to struggle, but Adamar's soft hand on her arm made her pause.

His eyes were so filled with pained understanding that her will to fight seeped out of her. She sniffed and blinked rapidly, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as the old lady and the young medicine man went to work pounding some sort of concoction with a pestle and mortar. Whatever it was, it stank. Kyla wrinkled her nose and turned away, only to be met by a crowd of curious eyes. She frowned at them and locked her eyes on Jethro, but not before noticing little Adamar's lips moving furiously.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"Asking Oron for help."

Kyla scoffed. "Don't waste your breath."

His face went still and he looked up at her. His eyes were a mixture of sadness and curiosity.

Kyla shrugged with a sigh. "Oron can't hear you."

"He hears everything."

There was such conviction in Adamar's quiet words that Kyla couldn't help believing him. Her fingers bunched into tight fists. "Then that's even worse."

"Why?"

She shot Adamar a dark look. "Because it means he's been ignoring me."

Adamar's look melted into one of complete compassion. He opened his mouth to speak, but she shook her head and looked away. Instead he placed his little hand in the crook of her elbow and tugged until she dropped her arms. Without a word, he slid his hand within hers and didn't let go.

The wretched mixture was permeating the entire hut. No one but Kyla seemed to mind the stench. She didn't try to hide her grimace as the woman pressed some into her fingers and rubbed it over Jethro's lips. He didn't move.

She then began to rub it over his welts as the medicine man added some sort of liquid to the mixture. He used the pestle to stir the mixture until it became a runny, blotchy-brown broth. With a flick of his hand, he indicated for Kyla and Adamar to come forward.

She knelt beside her friend and brushed the damp curls off his face. Tears loomed behind her eyes but didn't have time to fall. The medicine man snapped his fingers to get her attention and indicated that she should help prop Jethro up. She slid her arm beneath him and raised his body while he took the other side. With his spare hand, he passed Adamar a thick green leaf, which Adamar curved in half and placed against Jethro's lips. The man squeezed Jethro's jaw so Adamar could push the leaf into his mouth.

The woman tipped up the heavy mortar and began pouring the liquid into Jethro's mouth. It was a horrible and messy affair. Jethro coughed and gagged against the liquid. The brown muck, that smelt more and more like manure the longer Kyla spent around it, spilled over the edges of the leaf and ran down Adamar's hands, dripping onto Jethro's torso. Kyla tried not to gag. Her eyes were stinging by the time they finished and gently lowered Jethro back down.

Kyla looked at the medicine man.

"Now what?"

He rocked on his heels, calm and relaxed. With a blank stare, he studied Jethro's face.

She whipped her head around to face Adamar.

He shrugged. "I guess we wait."

Kyla wanted to scream, tear her hair out, stamp her feet and throw the mortar across the room. Instead she closed her eyes, drew in a breath and gently picked up Jethro's hand. Running her thumb over his slack fingers, she willed them to come to life.

The urge to start begging rested on the edge of her lips when out of nowhere Jethro gasped loudly. His eyes bulged wide and his chest heaved as he squeezed Kyla's hand so hard she thought the bones might snap.

A moment later he turned his head and threw up all over her. The smell was so foul she thought she might join him. She gritted her teeth and swallowed repeatedly.

A few minutes later it was over. He weakly pulled away from her and fell back onto the bed. Turning his pale face, his eyes ran down her body before he let out a feeble chuckle.

"Sorry about that."

Kyla's insides shook with a combination of tears and laughter. Covering her face, she ignored her drenched clothing and finally gave in to the tears.

She did pause for a short moment to slap his chest lightly and order him to never try dying on her again, but the tears rounded on her like a tidal wave.

Laying her head on Jethro's chest, her shoulders quivered with pent-up emotion. The feel of Jethro's hand gently caressing the back of her head was as close to heaven as she had ever come.

Chapter 27

Nikara's fingers danced within each other as she slowly made her way up the stairs. With Athra gone for the rest of the day, she had snuck into his room and studied the map. Kyla was now in the heart of the forest and not moving anywhere. She did not know what this meant and wondered what trouble they must have run into. Only a fool would stop in the forest. It was a known fact; you kept moving. And what would make them journey straight into the heart of such a treacherous place? From what she had heard, unexplained evil lurked in the trees. Rumours were rife of people never making it from one side of the forest to the other. They were complete fools to go that way.

Nibbling her lip, she thought of what Mordekai might say. He still knew nothing of the map and was relying completely on faith. She guessed it was easier to do so when he didn't know what troubles the seekers were facing. She hadn't bothered to look for him as she had told Athra she would. Since the seekers had left, he'd spent most of his days locked within his room praying. No one would mention him to Safeer, and there was no chance of Safeer stumbling across him. The ambassador would never venture to the far corners of the castle.

Something was bothering her though. She could not place her finger on it exactly. It was just a feeling. Athra was hiding something, and her soft charms had not yet managed to pry the information loose. She wondered what else it would take and how far she was willing to go.

Maybe a little magic was required.

Her eyebrows rose at the idea, and a furtive smile pushed at her lips. Lifting her skirts, she hurried up the next flight of stairs and turned right towards her chambers. The hand that pulled her behind the pillar was unexpected and made her gasp.

Long fingers covered her mouth and squeezed. She gulped back a scream, her eyes growing wide as she was spun around by the shoulders.

"Well, well, well...if it isn't the seer's apprentice."

Her mouth went dry as she looked up at Safeer's infamous smirk. He looked down his long straight nose at her, his right eyebrow peaked.

"You're not trying to hide away from me, are you, Nikara?" His firm hands gripped her shoulders until it was painful. She gasped softly, looked down at his tight fingers and then back up at his powerful face. Her heart drummed hard against her ribcage.

"Care to enlighten me about your time here in Taramon?" His dark eyes gleamed as he studied her.

Nikara's wide-eyed innocence swiftly melted away. Her expression morphed to one of sultry familiarity. Placing her fingers on his chest, she ran her hands up his body and wound them around his neck. Rising to her tiptoes she placed her lips against his. His fingers tightened on her shoulders briefly before he wrapped his arms around her, hiding none of his hunger and lust.

She pulled away from him, her eyes alight with passion.

"Why did you take so long to return?" She pouted. "And you never even tried to see me last time you were here."

Running a thumb across her lips, he chuckled. "I could not risk giving you away. Besides, word reached me easily, just like you said it would." He rubbed the ring on his right index finger.

A little appeased, but wanting more, she kept her pout in place.

He grinned and nuzzled her neck. "I am here now, so stop complaining."

She smirked and grasped a handful of his hair, giving it a playful tug. "I've missed you. I cannot sneak to your bed when Mordekai is sleeping anymore." She kissed his earlobe before he pulled away. "And I am tired of being here around these boring people. Athra is driving me mad with his whining and moping over the princess...and Mordekai refuses to stop praying."

Safeer rolled his eyes and shook his head. "A lot of good that will do him."

"Please don't make me stay here much longer."

Safeer's expression softened a little. "I am sorry, my love, but you must. You are our eyes in this city. You are close to Athra. You have influence with him, and you are tracking the girl for us. We need you here."

"I know," she sighed and stepped away from him.

He tugged her arm and pulled her back against his chest, placing his lips against her ear. "What news of the princess?"

She stepped back. "Is that all you're here for?"

His smile grew dark and delicious as he drank her in. "You know that is not true."

She grinned back at him and took his hand. "Then let me tell you everything...in my bed."

With a low chuckle he followed her.

They snuck through the last two corridors, not encountering another soul. Nikara placed a finger over her lips as they tiptoed past Mordekai's room. Gently opening her door, she pulled him inside and locked it behind her.

Safeer was pulling the fabric from her shoulders before she took another step into the room. His hot lips worked his way over her soft flesh, and she let out a faint moan of pleasure.

"Tell me where they are," he mumbled against her skin.

Closing her eyes, she threw back her head and enjoyed the pleasure of his mouth on her throat. "The Forest of Gesham."

He paused and looked up at her. "The hunting party lost track of them in the Canyon Lands. They were attacked by a small family of trolls."

"And?" Nikara carefully untied the laces on Safeer's jacket.

"The captain's message was very brief. I think his party was slaughtered, and I can only assume he is dead now too. That is why I was sent back here so quickly. Ashan is most anxious to get rid of these pests."

"You could not just use the rings to ask me?"

He grinned and shrugged out of his clothing. "And miss out on this?" Pulling her towards him with a low growl, he devoured her with hungry kisses as they walked towards the bed.

*****

Nikara let out a luxurious sigh as she laid her head on Safeer's smooth chest. Running her hands over his firm muscles, she remembered the first time he'd made love to her. She had only been fifteen, but it was her reward for finally making it into Mordekai's circle of trust. The plan had been in play for several months before it was executed. Ashan had always kept a careful eye on the seer and would not lay the prophecy to rest. He had wanted someone on the inside, and she was the perfect candidate. She wouldn't have done it if Safeer hadn't asked her personally. She would do anything for him...even endure a decent beating from one of Ashan's guards. Ashan had insisted that her entrance into Mordekai's life needed to be realistic. Mordekai had to believe he was saving the young wretch lying bloodied on his doorstep.

He had taken her in and throughout the weeks it took her to heal, she had worked hard to win the old man over. He invited her to stay as soon as she was well enough to leave. She had agreed and snuck away that night to let Safeer know.

The man she had loved since she was a little girl had congratulated her, kissed her warmly and finally given her what she'd been wanting — his whole heart.

She laid her hand over it now and felt it beating fast, still galloping after their interlude. She grinned and kissed his chest.

He ran his hand into her black hair and tugged lightly, making her face him.

"I need you to let the general at Ravma know about the seekers. They are our closest resource to them now."

Nikara sat up and reached for the robe Safeer had discarded at the end of the bed. She pulled it on and flicked her hair out. The robe puddled around her feet, but she did not care. The soft leather felt good against her bare skin.

"What are his orders?"

"Tell him that Ashan wants the seekers destroyed. Anyone who tries to stand in the way of that shall be cut down also."

Nikara's eyes danced as she knelt down and reached beneath the bed. She loved the power of these men and felt proud to be helping them. Once this was over, she could move into the palace and have a permanent place in Safeer's bed. She knew of his dream to one day rule a city, and she would rule beside him.

Pulling out an ancient box, she flashed her lover a sultry smile before taking it to the table by the window.

She drew in a deep breath to calm herself and opened the box with an air of reverence. Her opal ring sat on a velvet cushion in the centre, and she delicately slid it onto her index finger. She hated that she could not wear it at all times, but Mordekai would question what it was...not to mention Athra in his sickeningly polite way.

She rubbed the cyan stone that was so dark it could be mistaken for black. As her finger made the stone warm, it slowly lightened to a bluey-green colour. Looking into the depths of it, she watched the colours begin to swirl and move.

"The general in Ravma is wearing a ring?"

"No." Safeer sat up and propped his long body against a pillow. "He refuses. His messenger wears it at all times."

Nikara was a touch insulted by this. She had made the rings especially, using a magic gleaned from the pit of the Black Forest. It had taken her weeks to concoct the perfect potion to soak the stones in. There had been many tests and trials, but once she and Safeer were communicating daily using the rings, she was ordered to make more. They were carefully carried from Mezra to Ravma, and all the important men of Ashan's army were now in possession of them.

Nikara's ring was now so pale it was nearly transparent. She stopped rubbing the stone and drew her fingers over it, coaxing out the blue and green swirls until they formed an eyeless face hovering in the air.

"Go to Ravma," she instructed the face. "Tell the general that the seekers are in the heart of the Forest of Gesham. He is to take whatever manpower he needs and destroy them and any that stand in his way. Ashan wants this finished within two days." She dropped her voice so that it was low and hard, knowing the words would be repeated exactly as they were spoken. "He must not fail Ashan or it will cost him his life."

She looked at Safeer, who gave her a nod of approval.

"Now go." She clicked her fingers and pointed out the window. The face disintegrated to blue dust and flew into the air.

She rubbed her finger back over the opal, which was as dark as night once more. Pulling it off, she placed it back on the cushion and shut the box. She would check on the ring tonight, like she did every night. It would either be dark and dormant until she used it again or would pulse with a message. She glanced over her shoulder and hoped for the latter, knowing she would soon farewell the handsome man in her bed.

Sliding the box back into its secret place she drew herself tall and gave Safeer a wicked grin before dropping his robe to the floor.

Chapter 28

"I doubt anyone will be able to resurrect this clothing." Kyla wrinkled her nose as she shoved the sodden outfit towards the door of the hut with her boot tip.

Jethro chuckled, which he instantly regretted. Clutching his tender tummy, he bent over the bed and coughed into the wooden bucket beside him.

"How can you have any more left?" Nurse Kyla approached him, ready to carry out her duties of the previous few hours.

Night was starting to fall as Jethro weakly lay back down.

Kyla took the bucket, obviously trying not to gag as she carried it to the window and yelled, "Look out below." She tipped the bucket up, shook it as hard as she could and returned it to the bed.

"You know they don't actually know what you're saying when you yell that."

"Well what else would you have me do? I need to give them some kind of warning."

He smiled at her, noticing just how exhausted she looked. It had been a harrowing day. From the river, to the dragonfly attack, to his near death. His heart had nearly broken in half as she lay on his chest crying. He could still feel her soft strands of hair beneath his hands as he'd tried his best to comfort her.

The room had slowly emptied as the strange looking medicine man and the old woman had ushered everyone away. Adamar had gone with them at first, but popped back numerous times to give reports on the horses, bring food and a change of clothes for Kyla, and to give them updates on what was happening.

The boy was so full of life and laughter it was hard not to be bolstered after one of his visits. He looked at Kyla's strained expression and started wishing for another one.

She sat on the floor beside him, leaning against the wooden bed. She hadn't left his side since he'd thrown up all over her...even to get cleaned up. He'd been ordered to close his eyes, which he did for almost the entire time it took her. After what felt like an age, he couldn't resist the temptation and his eyes crept open. She was facing away from him as she ran a wet cloth over her body and up to her shoulder. She began to turn and he snapped his eyes shut. The image of her naked back stirred a fire in his belly. He imagined running his hands over her smooth skin and lavishing every inch of her with kisses. Guilt set in as his mind carried him to forbidden places, but he wouldn't have traded that flash of flesh for anything in the world.

Without thinking, he reached across his body and grabbed Kyla's hand, pulling it over him so he could play with her fingers on his chest.

She looked down with an awkward blush but didn't pull away. A grin played on her lips as she looked at him. She couldn't quite reach a full smile though. The memories of the day sat heavy on her shoulders. He would do anything to take them away. He'd been trying to unburden her ever since the day her father never came home. He learnt after a few years that he couldn't do it, so had tried to make her laugh and smile instead.

Guilt at his sudden abandonment wrenched his gut. She must have been so hurt by his unexplained withdrawal a year ago.

"I'm sorry," he suddenly blurted.

"For what?" She raised her eyebrows. "Nearly dying, or pushing me into the river or throwing up all over me...or was it when you punched me in the face?" She put her finger to her lips in mock thoughtfulness.

He grinned and cleared his throat. "You punched me first."

She cringed and bit her lip. Breaking eye contact, she gazed at their interlocked fingers and sighed. "I deserved the river. And it's not like you left me to drown, which I probably deserved too."

"Don't say that." He squeezed her fingers and frowned. "I was being..."

"A donkey's arse?" she offered with a smile.

"Yes." He closed his eyes and nodded. "I should have told you straight away instead of ignoring you."

"Told me what?" Her eyes were wide and expectant. He noticed a spark of hope on her face, which unnerved him.

He glanced at the ceiling, but then sighed and shot her a rueful grin. "Every time I looked at you and saw what I'd done, I felt so ashamed."

He ran his finger over her healed cheekbone.

Her expression grew warm, and she dipped her head as if embarrassed by this touch. He pulled his finger away.

"It was just a bruise, Jethro. You've given them to me before."

"Yeah, but not when..." He swallowed and looked away from her.

"Not when what?" She chuckled and lightly shoved his shoulder.

He glanced back with a serious face. "We were kids then. It's different now."

"Why does it have to be?"

"Kyla, you're..." He sighed. "You're getting married. You're going to be the queen. We can't just run off and play in the forest like we used to."

"Is that why you stopped talking to me?" She yanked his hand until he looked at her. "You just threw our friendship away, because I was moving on and you weren't?"

The anger and hurt playing in her eyes were excruciating to watch. He wished he could put her out of her misery, but it was so much easier to let her believe that he was an immature swine rather than tell her the truth of how heartbreaking it had been to hear Athra say the queen had chosen a husband for Princess Kyla.

The look of joy on Athra's face had turned Jethro's soul to ash. He couldn't look at Kyla the same after that. She wasn't his Kyla anymore, and she never would be again.

Jethro licked his lips. "I'm sorry, but change is difficult. I thought it would be easier for both of us if I pulled away."

Her eyes narrowed as if she didn't quite believe him. "You were my best friend. Married or not, I never wanted that to change."

"It had to, Kyla."

She looked away from him, breathing in through her nostrils as if trying to quell a simmering rage beneath the surface. It cut like a knife, watching her, and after a few minutes he couldn't take it anymore.

"I was wrong."

She glanced at him.

"I mean, I'm right...things had to change, but I shouldn't have..." He swallowed. "I'm sorry if I hurt you." He brushed his thumb over her knuckles.

She gazed at their interlocked fingers. "I know I will one day be queen. But I'm not queen yet, and we still have so much of this journey to go. You can't keep shutting me out. We're a team now and we have to act like one."

"I agree."

"You do?" Her eyebrows rose and she looked pleasantly surprised.

"Yes, of course I do."

"I thought you were about to tell me that I'd just have to deal with it."

A broad grin stretched over his lips and he squeezed her hand.

"So we're friends again then?"

He nodded. "Friends."

"I have my Jethro back?"

He paused at her terminology, slightly fascinated by it. All he could do was nod with a small smile.

"You promise?"

"I promise."

With a little squeak, she launched herself from the floor and wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing tight. He cupped the back of her head and lavished the feel of her cheek pressed against his. He wanted time to freeze at that moment. Unfortunately it did no such thing. She eased herself back, her face less than an inch from his and whispered, "Thank you."

With tender fingers, she brushed the damp locks off his forehead. Her gaze travelled to his mouth. Her lips parted by the smallest amount. He could feel her breath tickling his skin as she leaned towards him.

But then her eyes caught him watching her and she snapped back, placing her hands on his chest and looking completely mortified.

Clearing her throat, she pushed off him and slumped onto the floor, leaning her back against the bed so she couldn't face him.

He could hardly find breath as he quietly studied her. Was he going out of his mind or had she been about to kiss him? His brow furrowed with confusion. That couldn't possibly be right. She was in love with Athra. He frowned deeply, rubbing his fingers against his forehead. He could feel a headache setting in.

She had definitely been about to kiss him. His belly began to burn with delight, but he squeezed his eyes shut. Whether she wanted to or not, they couldn't kiss each other. He couldn't go there. The idea of retreating flitted through his brain. To date it had been his only defence mechanism.

But a promise was a promise.

Clearing his throat, he flicked the back of her head. She slapped at his fingers.

"Stop it."

Her gave her a cheeky grin and did it one more time.

She swivelled around and punched him in the arm. He groaned dramatically until she rolled her eyes and gave him a droll look. Relaxing with a sigh, he winked and enjoyed watching her face light with a smile.

"Do you need a drink?"

"Do you think I'll manage to keep it down?"

She shrugged. "Worth the risk?"

"I suppose so."

She jumped up and headed to a table in the corner. He watched her scoop a small cup into the bowl of water and walk back towards him. She laid it on the ground beside them and helped him sit up against the wall. It was hard work and his muscles burned and ached as he moved. He wasn't sure if it was normal or not, but he hoped it wouldn't last too long. The itch crawling all over his skin was slowly dying down, but he was sure he'd need another dose of the stench cream by the morning.

Closing his eyes, he caught his breath and ordered his head to stop spinning. Kyla clutched the bucket, ready to lift it should his stomach start to cramp again.

"I'm okay." He put up his hand as the dizziness ebbed away.

Passing him the cup, she watched him closely as he took a few small sips.

"Alright?" Her brow crinkled.

With a sigh, he passed back the cup and nodded.

"Do you want to lie back down?"

"No, actually. Now that I'm here, I might just stay put for a moment."

She moved from her knees to her bottom, stretching out her legs and leaning back against the bed. Her unkempt curls looked full of knots. He wanted to offer to brush them out for her, but didn't think he'd have the strength. Besides, he shouldn't really be offering such things. For one, he wasn't an eight-year-old girl and two...

He didn't want to remind himself. An image of Athra sped through his mind.

"Do you want to go home?"

Kyla turned at his question, her eyes a little round. She opened her mouth and was shaking her head but then paused. Letting out a heavy sigh, she turned away from him.

"When I thought you had died, that's all I wanted." She pulled out the small dagger from the sheath around her calf and started balancing it on the tip of her finger. "Athra made me promise that I would, if things got too hard." The dagger wobbled and fell. She caught the hilt with her other hand and tried again.

Jethro held his breath as he waited for her to continue.

The dagger wobbled and fell two more times before she finally said, "I don't think I'm capable of doing this on my own. I hate to admit it, but if you had died, I would have snuck away in the darkness and returned home as fast as I could."

Reaching out to her, he squeezed her shoulder. She jerked and dropped the dagger.

"Sorry," he mumbled sheepishly.

She picked it up and put the tip to her finger again. She balanced it for nearly a minute before it tumbled off her digit. It landed in the wooden floor with a small thump. Gripping the hilt, Kyla pulled it free. "We could still die, you know?"

Jethro's mouth went dry.

She turned to look at him.

"I know." He swallowed. "Are you still willing to go on?"

She shrugged. "I'm not willing to walk away...from you, from Adamar. Can you imagine what my mother would say if I returned an utter failure?" With a quick snap she returned the dagger to its sheath and looked at him. "So I guess by default, I am willing. The fool that I am." Her eyes were wide and expectant, as if somehow seeking his approval.

"You're no fool...and we won't fail."

"Hmmm." In spite of her promise not to walk away, she still seemed unconvinced. Lifting her shirtsleeve, she ran her hand over the tattoo and map. The gold dot sat over the Forest of Gesham. Clear, yet completely ambiguous.

Kyla rose from the floor and walked to the window. Crossing her arms, she looked out. A light pattering of rain fell. Jethro could hear it growing harder. She reached out the open space and wet her hand, rubbing her fingers together.

She looked over at Jethro and he winked.

"You can't deny that we're in the perfect place to find the water element."

He grinned and finally, for the first time in what seemed an age, Kyla began to laugh.

Chapter 29

The rain had not let up throughout the night. Kyla had lain awake listening to it for what seemed like hours. Part of her wondered if sleep was kept at bay by her worry for Jethro, who was still purging the last remnants of poison from his body.

The old lady had returned and administered another dose of stink juice. Kyla had forced herself to stay and watch. The short, crinkled woman waited until Jethro was vomiting again before leaving with a smile on her face. Kyla had held the bucket, wrinkled her nose and glared at the woman's back as she left humming an unfamiliar tune.

Night had approached more quickly with the rain thundering outside. Jethro, weakened from his ordeal, had drifted easily into sleep. Eventually Kyla had succumbed and she was now highly annoyed at being woken.

The insistent finger tapping her shoulder grew stronger. She whipped around with a growl, but swallowed it back. Adamar's dimples were her undoing. She gave him a little smile and blew a curl off her face. Sitting up with a groan and rubbing the side of her hip, she took the plate of fruit he offered and picked up a banana.

"Where did you find these?"

Adamar shrugged. "They handed me this on my way up the stairs. They seem well resourced here. Mind you, they probably know the forest better than anybody."

Peeling off the skin, Kyla decided she didn't care where it came from. It smelt delicious. She shuffled around on the hard bed, trying to get her aching muscles to cooperate.

Adamar chuckled. "You must not have slept well in the canyons."

Kyla shook her head. "I feel like I haven't slept well since leaving Taramon." She yawned.

"You will adjust."

With a sardonic grin, she took a large bite of banana and relished its sweetness. She'd been too nervous and strung out to eat last night and her stomach was protesting painfully. Forcing herself to chew slowly, she ate the banana in happy silence. When she was done, she reached for a pale orange mango. Using her dagger, she peeled off the skin.

Adamar munched beside her. With a contented smile, he watched Jethro sleep. She wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but wasn't in the mood for another conversation about Oron, who deep down she knew she should believe in...and quite possibly trust. So much had happened that was proving this prophecy true, but even after it all, she couldn't step past the fact that eight years ago a little girl with the faith to move mountains had begged Oron to bring her father home and he never did. Her child-like trust had been shattered the day she watched the wounded men return without their king. Nothing good had come from her father's death and her faith had died.

She had promised herself never to trust in the unknown or unseen again. It was so engrained in her thinking now, she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to. The anger that had been helping her through years of grief lay low in her belly. She was scared that she wouldn't be able to survive what spewed out from behind her defensive walls. They were her only protection.

"I hope she's been happy all these years. I can't wait to ask her." Adamar's cheerful chirp came out of nowhere and startled her away from her black thoughts.

"Who?" She frowned.

"Mya."

Kyla felt like she should know whom he was talking about. Had he mentioned her before? She smiled and nodded, hoping it would fool him.

Adamar wrinkled his nose. "I knew you weren't listening. Too busy pouting over being left out instead of joining in the conversation."

She shot the little boy a dark look as she sliced off a chunk of mango and stuffed it in her mouth.

He let out a short sigh. "Mya is the water element. She will be here somewhere in the forest, and I am very excited to see her again. I told you all about her as we were crossing the desert."

"Your sister, yeah, I remember."

His deep brown eyes and stern expression showed he was unconvinced.

Hoping for forgiveness without actually having to apologise, Kyla shot him a cheesy grin.

His dimples appeared.

"Do you think she would know these rain people?" Kyla fumbled a slippery piece of mango and threw it into her mouth.

Adamar shrugged. "She was always the friendliest. It wouldn't surprise me if she knows every animal, plant and human in this forest."

Kyla sat forward. "Well, have you tried asking them about her?"

"Yes," he sighed and shook his head. "But they can't figure out what I'm saying...or they are trying to protect her."

"I guess acting out the prophecy is a little hard?"

Adamar grinned. "She will be revealed when the time is right."

"Yes, well that certainly seemed to be the case with you."

Kyla sat back and sucked the last of the yellow flesh off the mango stone. She'd never tasted anything so good. Every mouthful had been a delicious treat. She licked her fingers and was just about to reach for something else when she heard the whizz of an arrow.

They looked at each other with confused frowns that quickly morphed into concern when they heard another three arrows in quick succession. Kyla jumped from her spot and peered out the window in time to see a young girl come screaming into the clearing, followed by a burly man in black. Raising his curved sword, he chased her down and would have slashed her in half had it not been for a spear diving into his shoulder. He wailed and fell to the ground.

Kyla followed the trajectory of the spear and noticed one of the young villagers running into the clearing to retrieve his weapon. Before she could shout out a warning, he was lying on his back with three arrows protruding from his chest.

Kyla covered her mouth and stepped back from the window as the most frightening sound she had ever heard rumbled through the air. It was the sound of running feet...and not just one or two, but an army of them. As they broke into the clearing, Kyla suddenly registered that the men in black were Ashan's soldiers, and they were most likely here for them.

*****

A piercing scream startled Jethro awake. He sat up with a gasp, groaned and flopped back onto his elbow. His eyes were wide as he scanned his surroundings and noticed Adamar gazing out the window in muted horror. Kyla was beside him, her face pale, her lips pinched tight. Then the most frightening thing happened; she spun on her heel, her face hard with determination and began equipping herself for battle.

"What are you doing? What's going on?" He struggled to sit up.

"Ashan's army are attacking the village." Kyla's voice was clipped and efficient as she picked up her quiver and slung it over her head, making sure it sat right, so she could grab the arrows easily.

"And what are you planning on doing about that?"

"I can't just stand up here and watch. They're probably here because of us, Jethro." Her eyes were on fire as she looked at him.

"Kyla, you can't." He pulled the covers off and swung his legs over the bed. A dizzy spell attacked him, making him want to throw up all over again. "You're not trained for battle." He held his head and swallowed back the bile.

"I have been practising for the last eight years of my life. I can fight."

"Against me...and Levi...and tree stumps! This is very different!"

Her expression was hard in spite of her pallor. She was mid-way through sheathing her sword when she paused to look at him. He saw doubt flicker in the back of her eyes, but she swallowed and stuck out her chin. The clink of her sword hilt fitting into its scabbard was the worst sound he'd ever heard.

He pushed himself off the bed and tried to stand in her way as she walked towards the door. His body swayed, and she caught him against her shoulder.

"Jethro, you have to go back to bed."

"I'll help you."

"You know you can't." Her voice was gentle as she pushed him back towards the bed.

"Then stay here." He gripped her hand. "You can fire your arrows from up here. You'll be more use to them."

"I'm not going to leave these people to fend for themselves. I can do this." Her voice shook.

A child's scream lit the air and she stepped away from him.

"I need you to protect Adamar for me. The prophecy can't be fulfilled without him."

"It can't be fulfilled without you either!"

"Yes it can." Her expression was sad, but she pushed a smile over her lips before darting out the door. He stumbled to the window and watched her fly down the stairs and into the fray.

Adamar was at his side, no doubt ready to catch him when he crumpled to the floor. He cursed his weak body, gripping the window ledge and feeling more helpless than he ever had.

His knuckles went white as Kyla jumped down the last few stairs, landing on a guard. Pulling the dagger from her ankle, she finished him off before throwing it across the clearing, taking down a soldier before he plunged his sword into an unarmed villager.

Jumping from her spot, she loaded her bow and took down three men before running into the heart of the chaos. She retrieved her dagger and took out a soldier at the ankles. She flung him over her back and popped up and plunged the dagger into another guard's stomach before flinging it across the clearing. Another guard fell.

Jethro's mouth dropped as she used her bow to disarm one man before dropping it and drawing her sword. She then went to battle against two men simultaneously. As a child she had always been good, but she'd only managed to beat him a few times. The girl he was watching now was surely someone else.

With a grunt she dispatched the two guards and ran over to rescue a boy from being sliced in two. She ran the sword through that soldier and narrowly missed a slash across the back as she ducked to the ground. Spinning on her knees, she took the soldier out and stepped over him to defend herself against another onslaught.

It did not take the enemy long to figure out how lethal this mysterious girl was, and a large group of soldiers set their minds on taking her down as soon as possible.

The rest of the army began to attack the trees. Screams were flying through the air as fast as arrows.

A fresh wave of soldiers appeared from the forest and Adamar's bouncing feet could no longer remain where they were.

"Where are you going?" Jethro tried to grab him as he shot past.

The boy paused at the door and wiggled his fingers. "I can help."

Jethro knew it was pointless to argue, so instead put on a fatherly voice and pointed at him. "Stay out of sight. We can't lose you."

His little dimples appeared with his grin. "Do not worry."

He darted away, leaving Jethro alone and feeling worthless. He searched for Kyla and began to panic when he couldn't see her.

Her sweaty head popped into view.

He noticed blood smeared down the side of her face and had no idea who it belonged to. He could only pray it wasn't hers.

More screams rose from his left. Jethro whipped his head around to see a group of women and children thrown into a panic as soldiers scrambled up the stairs with swords drawn. He could do nothing but watch in horror as they ascended and the screams crescendoed.

Part of him wanted to close his eyes and turn away, but another couldn't tear his gaze from them. Just as the inevitable was about to happen, the soldiers began to jerk and cover their faces with their arms. Their limbs flailed, and they lost their balance as they were pelted with rocks flying so fast through the air, Jethro didn't know how it was possible.

He searched the area, wondering where this debris was coming from and noticed a little black foot hiding in the bushes on the edge of the clearing. Little black fingers flicked out from behind a fern leaf as another round of rocks came flying at the army.

A couple of the soldiers let out pathetic little wails as they fell from the trees. Jethro couldn't help a triumphant laugh. His body complained about his outburst. He ignored it. Spinning on his heel, he decided he could no longer remain a bystander. He knew his weak body couldn't do much, but it could do something.

Chapter 30

Kyla raised her sword to block another blow. The force was so strong that it reverberated down her body. She felt her muscles straining as she blocked another attack and finished off a guard behind her. The adrenaline was pumping through her system thick and fast, but she could feel it waning.

Soldiers seemed to be appearing from nowhere. Like an army of ants, they continued to pour out of the forest. She hacked and beat her way free, retrieving her dagger and dispatching another soldier to her right.

She wanted to slump to the ground then and there, but a scream to the left caught her attention. She noticed a bow at her feet, so dropped her sword and fired four arrows in quick succession, freeing up a small group of villagers to continue battling. She bent for her sword but was stopped by a sharp pain slicing through her upper arm. She wailed and grabbed at it.

Landing on her hip, she spun around to see a large guard standing over her with sword raised. She rolled to the right, collecting her sword in her left hand, which felt odd and slightly unfamiliar. She gripped the hilt with two hands as she felt the weight of it and forced her mind to ignore the throbbing pain.

Metal crashed on metal as she blocked the onslaught of blows, stepping backwards and feeling very much like the weaker party. Keeping her steps short and light, she danced around her attacker. Her sole focus was to not let the tall, hairy soldier kill her. It was one step at a time, and she forced her mind to think no further ahead.

The screams and shouts around her became a blur as she blocked, grunted, turned, stepped, blocked, thrust, spun and stepped again. Her arms could barely lift the sword when she saw an opening and took it. The guard flinched and crumpled to his knees.

Kyla watched him fall and wanted to do the same, landing in a puddle of tears that she could drown in, but her muscles tensed as she felt an ominous presence behind her. She whipped around in time to see him fall, an arrow protruding from his back. Glancing up, she spotted Jethro at the window, a bow in his hands and his eyes dark with protective fury.

Knowing Jethro was up there fighting for her was the energy boost she needed. Giving him a small wave of thanks, she ignored her screaming muscles and raced across the clearing to help a couple of young villagers as they tried to protect their set of stairs.

Kyla got lost in the blur of battle again. Time disappeared. She was suprised to notice a small straggle of guards retreating into the forest.

With no other thought than to defeat the enemy, she grabbed up her bow and chased after them. The cries for her to stop landed on deaf ears as she pushed her way through the forest, listening for sounds of retreating soldiers.

Bolting up the hill, Kyla noticed the black soldiers drop from sight over a small knoll. She nearly gave up the chase, but thought it was worth a peek. She could only assume they'd come from Ravma, but how had they known where they were?

She sprinted over the brow of the hill and slid down the other side. Jumping to her feet she ran to the edge of a shallow river and stopped short.

Her mouth dropped open as her heart plummeted to the pit of her stomach. The last few stragglers disappeared behind a line of armed horsemen and not just one line. From her standpoint, she could see at least three. Kyla fell to her bottom and scuttled backwards until she hit a tree trunk.

She couldn't take her eyes off her impending doom...off the entire village's impending doom!

Her heart felt shattered by the inevitability. The weight of failure was a heavy one to bear. Anger flared at the injustice. After everything they'd been through? This couldn't be right!

With a shaky breath, she reluctantly turned to the only option she had left.

"Okay." She nodded. "Okay, Oron. If you're so powerful and mighty...and if you are truly listening, then now's the time to prove it."

Standing on quaking legs, she slowly drew an arrow from her quiver and loaded her bow. The moment she turned to run, she'd be shot in the back, so with an eerie detachment she walked towards the water's edge, in plain sight of the army, and lifted her bow. The string brushed against her upper cheek as she pulled it back to her ear. Closing one eye, she aimed her arrow at the heart of the general.

He sat proud and cocky in his saddle, watching her with an amused grin. His fat finger pointed at her, and he threw his head back with roar of laughter.

Kyla tried to ignore the tears burning the back of her eyes. She knew she'd be shot before her arrow reached him, but she may as well go down fighting. She swallowed, drew in a slow breath and made sure her vision was clear for the shot. Her fingers were about to release the taut string when the air around her changed.

The horses on the other side of the stream began to fret and jitter. The men all jumped to control them, and the general's laughter was swallowed whole as his horse reared up.

Kyla lowered her bow and gasped as the ground beneath her became hard and dry. A fine spray of water hit the back of her body. She turned to see droplets of all sizes hurtling through the air towards her. She crouched down and covered her head. Peeking out beneath her arms, she watched the water fly past her and merge with the stream. It soon became a swirling torrent. She glanced back, horrified. The forest behind her looked like shrivelled death. The water had been stolen from every tree limb, leaf and plant stem.

She whipped back around to watch the torrent begin to swirl and move, culminating into a mighty wave that rose high into the air. She held her breath as it towered above the army, a powerful aggressor. A moment later it came crashing down upon Ashan's troops. Horses whinnied and men wailed as the wave rose again and smashed back down on them.

Kyla watched in frozen silence as men and horses were lifted into the air and pulled downstream by the powerful water. The rows of cavalry behind them all turned and began dashing away as the wave rose again and smashed down, picking up another contingent of troops and pushing them downstream.

The army had all but disappeared when Kyla first registered a soft titter. Her eyebrows dipped together as she rose and followed the delightful sound. As she came around a thick crop of trees she noticed a dot of a girl standing at the side of the stream. She was dressed in a short, sleeveless dress that looked to be made out of woven flax. Her little brown legs were bare except for a few bone bracelets around her ankles. She had similar bracelets around her wrists. Her straight brown hair was parted down the middle and braided on each side.

Kyla couldn't help being captured by her animated movements.

The little girl held one hand high in the air and dropped it down, clapping loudly with the other. She giggled and did it again. Kyla turned and watched the water mirroring the smooth flow of her limbs.

With a slow grin, Kyla spun back to watch the girl dance and play until every soldier had been swept out of sight. A satisfied grin stretched her face wide. She spun around with a flourish, her little body tinkling with laughter. Rubbing her hands together, she cleared her throat and closed her eyes. She was no longer laughing, but a smile sat ever present on her thin lips. With her back to the wall of water, she brought her hands together and held them to her chest for a moment before stretching her arms wide. With the grace of a butterfly, she pushed her arms forward and bowed her head.

The wall of water quivered and then crashed to the earth, flying past Kyla and the girl as it journeyed home. Kyla's breath caught as she watched the dehydrated forest come back to life. Plants stretched tall, shrivelled leaves bloomed and the trees seemed to expand and straighten with a luxurious sigh.

Kyla's insides were warm with excitement as she pulled her eyes away from the forest and searched for the girl.

She was standing at her feet, her head tipped to the side, looking up at Kyla like a curious bird.

"Hi." Kyla grinned.

The girl bit her lips together, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"You must be Mya, right?"

Kyla placed the bow over her head and settled it into place before sticking out her hand.

"How do you know my name?" The girl's eyes were still narrowed, but her expression was open.

"Well—"

The little girl grasped Kyla's hand and pulled her forward. Flipping Kyla's arm over, she pushed up her shirtsleeve and noticed the tattoo. She ran her finger over it and the map began to disintegrate, the gold lines fading away. Soon all that remained was a glowing tattoo. Kyla rubbed her arm, speechless.

In contrast, the little girl's face sparkled as she gazed up at Kyla and let out an excited squeal. She raised her hands in the air and danced in circles, laughing and shouting. "The time has come! The time has come!"

Bending over with a hearty giggle, she clasped her hands together and jumped on her toes.

"I have been waiting so many years to meet you." Her eyes twinkled as she assessed the speechless seeker. "Wow, you're really beautiful. Did you know that?"

Kyla shook her head, still a little overwhelmed by the girl's enthusiasm.

"Where's your partner? I can't believe I'm actually meeting a seeker. Oron is good. Isn't he so good?"

She tipped her head. Kyla raised her eyebrows, still unable to speak.

"You know, I was in no hurry to get home last night, but when I woke this morning, I felt like I needed to run and then as I was nearing the village, I heard Oron's voice in my head, telling me he needed me down by the river. As soon as I saw the army, I knew what he wanted me to do."

"You heard Oron's voice...in your head?" Kyla couldn't help her scepticism.

"Of course." She looked perplexed. "You never have?"

"No. Never."

Kyla found the little girl's warm gaze disconcerting and stepped away from her, pointing up the hill. "Come on. There's someone who's dying to see you."

Mya let out an excited gasp and raced after Kyla, catching her hand as they walked up the hill. She squeezed it and looked almost ready to burst with delight as they made their way back to the village.

Kyla couldn't help a small grin as she watched the child skip along beside her and felt her warm little digits resting within her smeared and dirty hand. She wondered if all the element children were this adorable. She couldn't even place what it was about them. They seemed to illuminate a joy and peace that felt impossible in these dark times.

She was once again overwhelmed by the daunting task ahead of them as the need to protect these little cherubs burned like a fire within her.

Although, she had just faced the most intense battle she'd ever encountered and was still standing to tell the tale.

As the adrenaline ebbed out of her system and her limbs began to quiver, she tried to relive some of her moments from the battle but couldn't remember a single one of them.

Chapter 31

Jethro didn't care that he felt like fainting on the spot. He didn't care that his limbs were acting like those of a newborn foal's, and he didn't care that he nearly fell out of the tree multiple times as he descended the staircase. All he cared about was finding Kyla.

He stumbled into the clearing, shirtless and sweating. Adamar raced to his side and caught him before he hit the dirt.

"Jethro, you must go lie down."

"I need to find her."

He struggled to his feet and leaned against the little boy at his side.

"She will be alright."

Adamar's serene voice did nothing for his tattered nerves. He wobbled towards the edge of the clearing, gripping Adamar's shoulder and ignoring the confused expressions of each and every villager they passed.

"She went this way." He pointed at a snapped branch at the north-west edge of the clearing, and was summoning the energy to crash past it when it moved to reveal a gorgeous little girl with large hazel eyes and a grin so wide it overtook her face. She stopped short when she noticed Adamar, her eyes growing even wider. Biting her lip as if trying to hold back a joyous scream, she launched herself into the clearing and ran straight towards them.

"Adamar!"

Jethro nearly fell to the ground as his human crutch disappeared and met the girl halfway. They wrapped their little arms around one another and clung. Then they started jumping in excited circles, still holding each other as if they never wanted to let go.

Jethro glanced past the two and noticed Kyla stepping into the clearing with a broad grin. She spotted him straight away and walked towards him, sliding her arm around his back for support.

He leaned against her, kissing the side of her sweaty head and loving her with every fibre of his being.

"Are you okay?" She looked up at him, worry creasing her brow.

"I'm fine now." He swallowed and grinned.

"You need to get back to bed."

She turned to escort him back to the tree, but he stopped her and pulled her into a hug instead. She wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed as he laid his chin on her shoulder and fought the urge to cry. He squeezed her tight and she hissed.

Jumping back, he scanned her face and started taking an inventory of her body.

She winced and touched the top of her right arm. He spun her around and with shaking fingers pulled the fabric of her shirt apart.

"You're injured."

"I'm okay, Jethro," she finally whispered.

"No, you're not. You need to get this taken care of."

Jethro raised his hand to start calling people over, but Kyla stopped him with a squeeze to his arm.

"Can we please just get upstairs first? I need to sit down."

She was just saying it to force him into resting. The concern in her eyes tugged at his heart. In all honesty, the idea of lying down was becoming a necessity he couldn't ignore.

"Okay, fine. But once I'm lying down, you have to promise me, you'll go get help."

"I will."

He tucked a loose curl behind her ear.

"You were amazing today. I've never seen anything like it."

She looked up at him, her expression filling with warmth. He could have drowned in her eyes if she'd let him. Biting her lips together, she broke their connection and glanced to the ground.

"You'll have to tell me what I did, because I don't remember it."

"You don't?" His head flinched to the side. Taking a step back, he pointed to the debris the villagers were slowly clearing away.

Kyla gasped and covered her mouth. She stumbled backwards, utterly horrified. "I did that?"

Jethro stepped to her side and rubbed slow circles over her back. "Not all of it."

Her chin trembled as she stared at the bodies littering the clearing. The smell of blood wafted in the air and flies were already buzzing around the fallen warriors. Kyla went pale and bent over, grasping her knees and pulling in large gulps of air. He touched her back. She flinched and kept her head down.

Moaning cries continued to float through the air. Jethro's heart bled as he watched wailing women kneel beside the six fallen villagers. Their lifeless bodies were gently being laid together. The black warriors, on the other hand, were being flung into a pile, no doubt ready to be burned. He tried to turn his body so Kyla wouldn't see.

Jethro rubbed soft circles over her back. "You saved these people, Kyla. What you did was a good thing."

She shook her head and stood, turning back towards the thick forest. Finding what strength he had left, he gripped her arm before she fled.

"Help me back up the stairs?"

"Sure." Her voice was small and detached, and he noticed she kept her gaze on anything but the clearing as they slowly made their way up the tree.

*****

Kyla stood at the window, gazing down at the now empty clearing. Jethro was asleep in the bed behind her...finally. He had refused to close his eyes until someone had tended her wounds.

Thankfully Mya, who had made life a thousand times easier with her ability to translate, summoned the wrinkled woman, Nylani, to come and stitch her up. Kyla had never felt pain like it. She refused to cry, and in order to hold the tears at bay she'd clenched her teeth together.

She rubbed the side of her face. Her jaw still ached, and she was positive her teeth now sat lower in her gums. Rubbing her hand over her face, she glanced at Jethro like she had been every minute for the last two hours.

According to Nylani, he would be completely well soon. The poison had drained out of his system, and it was just a matter of building up his strength. He needed plenty of fluid and a lot of rest.

She hadn't been able to speak since seeing the carnage in the clearing, and Jethro's sleep was a blessing. His concerned frown had been driving her mad, especially when she couldn't verbalize the emotions roaring through her system...not to mention the throbbing in her arm.

She felt battered and bruised from the outside all the way down to her core.

She had killed a man. And not just one. Yes, they were the enemy and yes, she had saved lives...but she had killed someone's son...possibly someone's father.

She swallowed and faced away from the clearing, resting her bottom against the edge of the window. Her hands were still shaking. It had taken two full bowls of water to wash the blood and grime from her body. She had silently hoped it would wash away the feeling of guilt and desolation as well, but it had not worked.

"Oh good, he's still sleeping." Mya's sweet voice arrived before Kyla saw her face. She popped through the door a second later and smiled at her.

Although her round little face was that of a nine-year-old's, her gaze was filled with 700 years worth of wisdom. Kyla snorted and shook her head.

Mya seemed to know what she was thinking and let the derisive noise go, padding into the room on her little tanned feet and sitting cross-legged on the floor. She patted the ground beside her and Kyla joined her with a sigh.

She gathered up Kyla's fingers in her warm hand and squeezed them.

"What you are feeling is good. It shows the size of your heart."

"I don't remember one slash of my blade. All I can see is the damage I inflicted, but without knowing why."

"You have to trust what Jethro and Adamar tell you. The villagers are beyond grateful for what you did."

"I don't know how I did it though. And I don't understand how I can't remember it?"

Mya shrugged. "Maybe Oron gave you what you needed for this fight."

"So it wasn't me then."

"Oh it was you...and from what I hear, you are a very talented fighter."

Kyla shook her head. "Just well practised." She cringed as she thought back to the hours she'd spent forcing Jethro and Levi to teach her, slashing her way through the forest, hacking at trees and pretending she was in the throes of battle. Those moments had felt far more triumphant than this. She frowned. "I killed so many men."

"Men that would have killed so many innocents if it weren't for your courage."

Kyla forced her head to nod.

"You must let go, Kyla."

She grinned in spite of herself. "I'm not very good at doing that."

"I know." Mya's eyes shone.

Kyla rolled her eyes. "Did Oron tell you that?"

"Yes, he did."

Mya's soft words made Kyla swallow and look to the floor.

"He chose you, because you are the right person for this job. You may not understand why, but he does and that's what matters."

"But—"

"No." Mya shook her head. "You would not have achieved what you did today without Oron's help. Don't wear these killings on your shoulders. Don't burden yourself with doubt. What's done is done. You now need to look ahead. Our journey is long, Kyla, and it will not be easy. We may face many trials before the end. Don't make this any harder than it has to be. Embrace this quest. Embrace the prophecy...and embrace a god who believes in you."

Kyla knew she was not ready to do the third, and possibly never would be, but she could start with accepting the quest and seeing how she went.

As if Mya could read her mind, she broke into a smile and nodded. "It's a start."

Jumping up to her feet, she patted Kyla on the head and walked out of the hut.

Kyla watched the little girl leave. Her perplexed frown eased when she noticed Jethro smiling at her. He was lying on his side, his head propped on his arm, his curls a knotty mess.

"Hard to believe she's only nine, isn't it?"

Kyla chuckled. "Seven hundred and nine."

The jesting left his expression, and he gazed at her with warm sincerity. "Starting to believe?"

She couldn't answer him straight away. An unfamiliar warmth was stirring in her belly, like an ember long dead that was trying to come back to life. She gazed at the doorway Mya had left through and shrugged.

"I don't know, Jethro. Maybe I am."
Chapter 32

The sky was grey and brooding. Athra had been watching it roll in from the western turret and knew they would soon be drenched with rain. He twisted the sword in his hand and thrust it forward. Stepping back, he blocked the fake blade coming towards him, spun and slashed his sword through the invisible warrior's middle. Standing straight, he put his feet together, drew in a breath and then repositioned himself for battle again. He had been at it for the last hour and still had not tired. A force that he could not explain drove him to work, practice, recruit and do anything but think about why Kyla remained stuck in the Forest of Gesham. It had been three days, and all he'd seen her blotch do was sit still or wander mere feet from the same point in the forest. At least her heart beat in a regular rhythm. Something held them up though. He wished he knew what it was.

Thoughts of trackers capturing and harming them swam through his brain constantly. He had nearly left to find her yesterday, but his father had managed to talk him out of it. The fact her blotch was still moving a little was a good thing. Even so, the last three days had been torture.

He gripped the hilt of his sword and lunged forward, hacking his blade through the air.

Things had been quiet since Safeer left the city. He didn't understand why particularly. People were probably still in shock after the queen announced Ashan's new demands. At this rate, they would be starving by the winter. The urge to build up the army and crush Ashan burned within him.

Each day their little group of men hid themselves in the dungeons and worked hard to train. Thanks to his visit to the farmlands, they had fifteen new recruits. They were now an army of thirty. It was pathetic really, but Athra refused to give up. Taramon used to be the largest city in the land. They would rise again and Ashan would burn.

He didn't notice the soft steps behind him until the person cleared his throat. Athra whipped around and spotted Mordekai. The short man approached him with a kind smile. Athra nodded back, sheathing his blade.

"I did not know you came up here, Lord Athra."

He gave the man a sheepish grin. "This turret faces west."

"And why is that important to you?"

Athra dipped his head, his lips about to spill the truth of Nikara's magic. He pressed them together and shook his head, aiming for a half-truth instead. "Not many people come up here...and the night Kyla and Jethro left, they headed west."

Mordekai nodded, his expression filled with understanding.

"She will be alright, Athra. Oron will prove true."

"Like he has in the past?" Athra grimaced at his derisive tone and looked away from Mordekai.

"I cannot claim to know him really. When the prophecy was first discovered, my father was charged with interpreting it. He spent hours studying it and trying to make sense of who may have sent it.

"It did not take him long to be convinced that the words were from Oron himself. As you can imagine, this created quite an uproar. I was only ten at the time, but I remember it so clearly." Mordekai's voice grew wistful. "My father was driven to find out more. He pulled out historic records, spent hours scanning parchments, searching for any truth of whom Oron was and if he did really roam this world.

"Information was scarce, but he did find numerous accounts of Oron defeating Kohlac. That was the one truth that survived all others. Oron walked this earth, and he defeated the greatest darkness it has ever known."

"But then nothing. Am I right?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. This perplexed my father. He could not understand how a god, taking the form of a man and defeating such a power could be forgotten so quickly. It is as if the people who knew him were suddenly ashamed or afraid." Mordekai looked troubled as he glanced up at Athra. "The land came into a time of peace and prosperity after this, you think he would have been held up and revered."

"Well, he was. I mean, Taramon built up a new city and raised a monument in Oron's honour." He pointed to the crystal towering above the centre of the square.

Mordekai looked sad as he studied it. "But where are the accounts of his life? Why has his time on earth been hidden away?"

The old seer scratched his beard as he stared out to the west.

"I'm surprised your father was so willing to accept this prophecy without any proof. Anyone could have written it. Why was he so convinced it came from Oron?"

Mordekai's eyes sparked. "Because he was ordered to destroy it. As soon as my father stated that the prophecy was from the God of Light, the rulers of Mezrah had the manuscript burned, but word still spread of its existence. People all over the land heard tell of this prophecy and they wanted to believe it. People crave hope, Athra. They want to know that good exists, that there is something more powerful than evil and darkness."

"The fact a rumour spread is hardly proof."

"You are a fine sceptic, my young friend." Mordekai grinned. "There is a magic in that prophecy that cannot be denied...and Ashan knows this.

"We must trust what the enemy fears. That's not faith, that's logic. Ashan knows what Oron did to Kohlac. We may not understand why Oron seemed to disappear after that, and we may never know why darkness was allowed to creep across the land once more, but this prophecy proves that he has not forgotten us."

"Why wait so long? Why choose two seekers with no experience?"

"If Oron is a powerful god, which I believe he is, then his view of this world is so much greater than ours. He will have his reasons for the way things are unfolding, but humans play a part as well."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know if Oron has the power to control us, but if he does, he chooses not to. He gives humans their own free will...and maybe that's why we are once again facing the darkness."

"You're blaming humans?"

"Ashan is one, is he not?"

"Well, that could be argued."

Mordekai chuckled. "Very true. I have wished for his redemption so many times."

"Something that evil cannot be redeemed."

"I fear you may be right, but imagine what this world would be like without his greed, his lust, his contempt for life." Mordekai sounded wistful as he shook his head and looked to the sky.

"That's what King Heron used to wish for."

"And that wish will come true."

"A little late for King Heron and his army though." Athra tapped his knuckles on the hard stone wall.

Mordekai nodded and pursed his lips. "Have you ever thought, Lord Athra, that King Heron's decision to ride out and crush Ashan's army was actually a...lack of faith?"

"You dare to insult the king?"

Mordekai raised his hands. "It is merely conjecture. I do not mean to offend, my lord. I only mean to make you think. Heron acted out of a need to do something, when possibly his best option would have been to wait and trust in the prophecy."

Athra swallowed and looked away from Mordekai's knowing gaze.

"A good king looks at the best way to protect his people. As you said, the prophecy was just a rumour." Athra's voice was tight.

"A magical rumour." Mordekai's eyes twinkled. "Think where your good king might be now, if he had not taken things into his own hands."

"King Heron was a brave and selfless man!"

"I never said otherwise. I believe his intentions were good and honourable." Mordekai patted Athra's shoulder. "But time and wisdom have injured no man. Faith in the unknown is a frightening thing, and who knows what I would have done in King Heron's position. But we have this prophecy now. It has come to life and we must trust that it will prevail."

"And if it does not?"

"If you truly trusted it, you would not be asking that question."

Mordekai's expression was a little pained as he studied Athra. He could not respond and so turned away. Mordekai patted his shoulder again.

"I cannot imagine how hard it must be to wait and fret for someone you love," he mumbled. "Forgive me if I have angered you, my lord. But know that I only speak out of a heart that cares for your city, and this world, more than you will ever know."

With that, he turned and walked away.

Athra's muscles were so taut, he thought they might snap as he listened to the old man shuffle down the stairs. A hard rock formed in his belly as he replayed the conversation. The longer he dwelt on it, the harder his head shook.

The old man was wrong. King Heron had acted on behalf of his people and he would do the same. The prophecy was in play. Oron was getting ready to rise again, and he would need an army to support him.

A smile curled the right side of Athra's mouth. If he worked hard, maybe his little army wouldn't even need to wait for Oron. A small number of well-trained men could be a very irritating pest to a big army. His smile grew as he thought of the havoc he could wreak on Ashan's troops. If they had to quietly take out one soldier at a time, that's what they'd do.

Chapter 33

Kyla grinned as she listened to Mya and Adamar giggling on the floor at her feet. They had been playing a game with knuckle bones, flicking them onto the back of their hands and trying to catch them. She had not seen the game before and a small part of her wanted to play. She had left them to it though, needing to organize and restock their supplies for the journey ahead...wherever it might be. She frowned as she scratched at the wind tattoo on her left wrist.

Raising her right arm above her head, she tested the pull on her muscles. It still ached and the bruising was a nasty display of purples and blues, but the wound was healing nicely.

"It'll be good as new in no time." Jethro stepped up behind her. She could feel his body less than an inch from her back and was surprised at her disappointment when he stepped up beside her instead of stepping forward so their bodies would touch. She frowned and forced herself to picture Athra.

"Are you okay?"

She flinched and looked up at Jethro with a small smile. He was on his way to healthy and strong again. His skin was no longer sickly white and the blotches covering his chest had disappeared. He still seemed tired and a touch weak, but Nylani assured her that he would be back to his old self within a few days.

He had been up and about most of the previous day. Mya had formally introduced them to the rain people the night before. They had thrown a large party to honour both their seekers and the villagers who had moved into the after life. It was a bittersweet occasion, but the sadness did not hamper the sounds of laughter and dancing. A huge bonfire blazed and the villagers danced, sang and ate enough food to feed an army.

Kyla had been overwhelmed by their generosity and unguarded joy in the shadow of their tragedy. She'd never been one for dancing, but had been pulled onto the dirt of the clearing and forced to jiggle around with the women. She had felt like a complete fool, but Jethro had watched her with laughing eyes, and his warm expression had given her the courage to forget herself. In the end she had collapsed back down beside him with a happy grin.

It had been a wonderful night. She bit back a smile.

"What?" Jethro nudged her with his shoulder.

"Just remembering you dancing like a fool around the fire." She chuckled.

"I know what you are really trying to say is that you were remembering how spectacular I was."

Kyla slapped him in the stomach, and he buckled over and groaned with his usual flair. She loved his antics, but they weren't completely stilling the unrest buzzing in her system. She was ready to get moving again. Too much time waiting was turning her brain into a frazzled mess.

Lifting her arm, she rubbed her fingers over her wrist again.

"It will show the way when it's ready."

Kyla glanced down at Adamar. He wasn't looking at her, so she pulled a small face at his quiet statement.

He glanced up and she jerked her head in the opposite direction. Clearing her throat, she picked up her sword and continued wiping the blade until it gleamed. She then began a slow inventory of the rest of their weapons, making sure they were well stocked. They still could not figure out how the army had found the rain people's hidden village. In the end they had put it down to being tracked, which Jethro was most horrified by as he thought he'd done a stellar job at hiding where they'd been.

Kyla had tried to reassure him that it wasn't his fault, but he'd been a little sullen whenever the topic was raised. In the end she had decided to avoid it. All they could do now was press forward. They would face each trial as it came. The rain people were certain that Mya's wall of water trick would scare the army away for a while, so the only person who seemed to be worried was her.

She counted her arrows for the third time and placed the quiver back on their stockpile. Jethro gave her a knowing smile but was wise enough not to say anything. She huffed and spun around, resting against the table and crossing her arms.

"Oron used to say that watching the pot always makes the water boil slower."

Kyla narrowed her gaze and glared at Mya. She giggled and bit her lip.

"Come play with us."

She patted the ground beside her and Kyla reluctantly dropped to the floor. She tugged Jethro down to join her and the four were soon distracted by a game of knuckle bones that was becoming somewhat competitive for the two seekers.

Kyla was getting ready to "accidentally" bump Jethro so he couldn't beat her, when the tattoo on her wrist began to pulse. She gasped and pulled back her sleeve, making Jethro drop the knuckles in his hand. They scattered across the floor as he leaned into Kyla. She could feel his breath tickling her cheek as they watched golden swirls leak from the three spirals on her wrist. The wind symbol shone bright as the golden lines danced down her arm, marking the next part of their journey.

A few moments later they were gazing at a map that had their spirits deflating.

"Doran," Kyla whispered.

"The ice city...across the mountain pass." Jethro forced a smile. "You said you wanted to see it."

"Yes, well, I know better now." She looked up at Jethro. "It's the coldest place on earth."

They both slumped with a sigh while the two children beamed.

"Cori." Mya squeezed Adamar's shoulder.

He quickly explained that Cori was the wind element and their sister. They couldn't wait to see her and could they leave now please.

Kyla nodded, still a little numb from their pending journey.

"You know, your god certainly doesn't make things easy, does he? Sending you out to these far off places."

"Oron did not send us." Mya's voice was small. Her face filled with an aching sadness. Kyla was about to ask about it when Nylani walked into the room and clapped her hands.

It was time to inspect Kyla's wound.

The children jumped up when they saw her and excitedly told her it was nearly time for them to leave. The woman listened with interest to their animated explanation.

Jethro gathered up Kyla's hand. She glanced over at him.

"We'll make it." He squeezed her fingers.

Her first thought was that as long as he held her hand the whole way, she could do anything. She nodded and squeezed his hand back, her lips twitching with a small smile.

Chapter 34

Safeer stood in the throne room watching Ashan pace the dais like a rabid animal. Breaths snorted out of his nose and his eyes burned with fury. He went to descend the steps a few times and Safeer braced himself for a brutal blow, but Ashan seemed to change his mind and turn at the last minute each time.

Waiting for his outburst was near terrifying, but Safeer refused to look away. His heart had plummeted down to his boots when the general's message had reached him. He watched the blue face repeat the messenger's words in a shaky voice and then disintegrate into a swirl of blue dust. He had decided not to relay the news to Ashan until he had communicated with Nikara. That had taken a day by the time she had checked her ring and then snuck a look at the map.

He had heard from her that morning and had forced his quivering limbs to walk proudly into Ashan's presence.

The beast of a man spun on the dais and then exploded with a loud roar, pushing his throne with an inhuman strength. The large chair toppled down the stairs and crashed at Safeer's feet.

"How can a legion of men be destroyed by a village of pathetic rain people?"

Safeer swallowed. "There was magic in the water, my king. The general could not explain it."

"I want him executed."

"It has been done."

The news seemed to calm Ashan a little. His blazing red eyes dimmed a touch before he turned away from his ambassador.

"Have you heard from the girl?"

"She looked at the map this morning. They are headed south."

"Where?"

"We do not know for certain, but she thinks they may ascend the pass and head to Doran."

Ashan whipped around with a frown. Picking up the huge goblet on his table, he gulped back a large mouthful and then smashed it back down, wiping red droplets from his face with the back of his hand.

"I will not waste my troops in that frozen desert."

"The seekers may die, my king. I do not know many who can survive such cold conditions."

"We cannot rely on that." He scratched his chin with his long nails and frowned. "Send The Elite to finish them off."

Safeer swallowed. The Elite were a small contingent of deadly fighters, raised by witches and trained in the art of death since they could walk. No man had survived an attack from them before. Ashan kept them for only the most important assignments.

They were the only force in the army that refused to wear one of Nikara's rings, which meant he would have to relay the message in person.

"My king, they will not venture into the ice desert."

"Well you will have to try and convince them otherwise."

Safeer swallowed. "And if I cannot?"

"Then have them waiting on the other side of the pass. They can ambush and kill them on their way out of Doran."

Safeer did not care for the two seekers but could not deny a small ounce of pity. Their deaths would be ugly affairs.

"Make sure the girl is giving you daily updates." Ashan's eyes gleamed red. "If the ice does not kill them, then The Elite will."

*****

Kyla stood on the rocky path, gazing up at the ominous climb ahead of them. The Jahara Mountains loomed large, looking cold, sharp and treacherous. Clutching Neema's reins, she pulled her horse close and rubbed her icy cheek against the mare's warm neck.

The sky was grey, the air was cold and the wind whipped around her, finding even the tiniest gaps in her clothing. Her skin rippled with goosebumps. Pulling the hood of her fur-lined coat tight beneath her chin, she tried not to let a battalion of doubts assail her. At least Jethro's mother had insisted they packed for all weather conditions, although Kyla doubted Daniella had been meaning the Jahara Mountain pass when assisting with her son's preparations.

The craggy trail that would lead them over the mountains was narrow and winding. Kyla followed the track with her eyes until it disappeared around an angular curve.

Swallowing, Kyla tried to ward off a growing panic. She let go of her breath and watched the white puff of air from her mouth wisp away on the breeze. The chill in her bones was beginning to seep into her very core.

"One soft step after another, sweet child."

Jethro's whisper tickled her ear, making her smile. Blinking, she glanced up at him with a nod of gratitude. She let him pass with Hava and made sure the two children were in between them before placing her icy boot onto a path that was growing white with snow. Her worry for the little ones increased with each passing hour. The rain people had done a fine job in fitting the children with every piece of fur they could find. But would it be enough to keep their skinny bodies warm?

She tugged Neema's reins and was brought up short. Her horse refused to move. "It's okay, girl. Everything's going to be fine. We're just taking a walk up a mountain, that's all."

Retracing her steps, she stood beside her horse and checked that the woollen blanket sat snugly beneath the saddle. Inching off her glove, she risked the cold to adjust the strap beneath Neema's belly and patted her horse's neck.

"I know you're scared," she whispered, pulling the glove back over her frozen digits. "I am too, but we have no choice. We have to try." She gazed up the hill at her three companions marching ahead, one unyielding step after another. "They need us to try."

Neema shook her mane, whinnied softly and then very slowly took a step forward.

"Good girl."

Clutching the reins a little tighter, she helped pull Neema up the first part of the path. Hope wavered at the effort it took. There were still so many steps to take, so many miles to climb. The task began to overwhelm her as she thought of all they still must achieve...it was then that she noticed how thick the snow around her was. Glancing skyward, her lashes were assaulted with tiny white flakes. She brushed them from her eyes and shivered.

This was not the light, playful snow she woke to on a frosty winter morning. This was not the snow of angels, snowmen or snowball fights. This snow was falling in thick, unrelenting flurries. This was the snow of death.

######

The Elements Trilogy Characters and Places (listed alphabetically)

Adamar

The earth element.

King Ashan

Ruler of Mezrah and Ravma. He is a dark force determined to follow in the footsteps of Kohlac.

Athra

Son of Varon. Betrothed to Princess Kyla. Cousin to Jethro. Future king of Taramon.

Benyamin

Father of Jethro, Levi and Sabine. Husband of Daniella.

The Black Forest

Near the east. Home of the witches. Believed to be the birth place of Kohlac.

The Canyon Lands

In the north-west. Home of the trolls.

Cori

The wind element.

Doran

The Southern City

Queen Elaina

Mother of Princess Kyla. Widow of King Heron. Ruler of Taramon

Eshron

The fire element.

The Forest of Gesham

In the west, near Ravma. Home of the rain people.

The Jahara Mountains

Runs along the south, from the Seran Sea to Vulcan Peak.

Jethro

Son of Benyamin and Daniella. Brother of Levi and Sabine. Cousin to Athra.

Kohlac

The dark lord who enslaved the world centuries ago. Defeated by Oron.

Princess Kyla

Daughter of King Heron and Queen Elaina. Princess of Taramon. Heir to the throne of Taramon. Betrothed to Athra.

Levi

Son of Benyamin and Daniella. Brother of Jethro and Sabine.

Mezrah

The Eastern City

Mordekai

Seer of Mezrah. Master of Nikara.

Mya

The water element.

Nikara

Apprentice to Mordekai the Seer.

Oron

God of Light. Creator of the world. Defeater of Kohlac.

Ravma

Was once the Western City, now a training post for Ashan's army.

Safeer

Ambassador for Ashan.

Taramon

The Northern City

Varon

Father of Athra. Queen's closest confidante. Brother of Daniella.

Excerpt from Unseen (The Elements Trilogy - Book 2)

The cave appeared out of nowhere. Kyla didn't even see its entrance until Mya let out a squeal and ran towards it.

"Stop!" Kyla grabbed the girl's coat before she ran through the narrow gap in the towering rock. "One of us needs to make sure it's safe."

"But I know it is. Oron would not have led us here otherwise."

With a shake of her head and quiet mutterings of blind faith, Kyla drew her sword and approached the opening. She glanced at Jethro as her boots crunched through the snow; the swirling flakes blocked her view, but she could sense his tension. He was no doubt annoyed that she had gotten there first, or maybe he felt it was his duty to be the scout.

But she was just as capable as he; she had proved that in the rain forest. Gripping the hilt of her sword, she inched into the darkness, her muscles tight as she strained to hear any foreign sounds. The narrow entrance expanded as soon as it was breached. Kyla stood in the centre, her sword held high, her body poised to defend itself. It was an excellent shelter with hardly a whistle of wind dancing through it. The echoing drips of melting snow created a surprisingly peaceful sonnet. Kyla scuffed her boots over the dry ground. Yes, this would do nicely.

After her eyes had adjusted and she scanned each dark corner, she sheathed her sword and headed back out.

"It's good," she called. "The horses will need to have their saddles removed to fit through this gap though."

It was a fiddly task getting the straps undone with fingers that felt like sausages, but eventually she and Jethro freed the horses of their burdens and coaxed them through the narrow opening.

Once inside, they set the saddles in the corner. The horses were claustrophobic in the small, rocky space, but Adamar's soothing murmurs soon had them nestled into a corner.

Kyla ordered her fingers to comply and managed to find some feed for Neema in her bag. The horse's frozen lips brushed over Kyla's palm as she inhaled the food.

Kyla scratched the hair between Neema's ears. "I'll find you more as soon as we get out of this. Just rest for a while. You're safe now."

With a sad frown, Kyla realized her fallacy. Neema wasn't safe. None of them were. The cave might be dry, but it was still an ice pit. The wind and snow could not touch them from in here, but nothing could stop the chill creeping into their bones.

Breaths punched out of her mouth as her trembling stomach fought the shivers wracking her body. She crossed her arms and stamped her feet on the stone floor.

"Wh-what now?" She clenched her jaw, trying to stop her clattering teeth.

Jethro rubbed his hands together. "We need a fire."

"I wish Eshron were here."

They glanced at Adamar as he spoke of the fire element.

"Eshron needs fire to play with, Adamar. He can't create it from nothing." Mya's voice was soft. Her usually radiant face looked pale. "We found the cave, though. Oron was true to his word. There will be a way out of this. Do not fear. He has not abandoned us."

Kyla raised her eyebrows and nodded, but had to turn away. She didn't think she could stomach listening to the prophecy at this moment.

If the God of Light did want so badly to return, why was he making it so difficult?

She glanced around the cave, not seeing one scrap of wood. Everything was made of stone. "We-we could burn some of our s-supplies."

"Won't we need them f-for the rest of the j-journey?" Jethro shoved his hands beneath his armpits and danced from toe-to-toe.

Kyla's eyebrows dove together. If there was a _rest of the journey_. She didn't say it aloud, but she could tell her face was screaming it. Jethro's expression faltered, and she felt bad for being so cynical.

She winced and scuffed her boot on the floor.

"There's always body heat." Adamar grabbed a blanket from the pack and laid it against Hava's stomach and the floor. Nestling against the horse, he opened up his outer coat and spread his arms wide. With a quick smile, Mya skipped towards him and snuggled into his embrace. A few more head shuffles and twitches later, and they were wrapped up within the blanket. Kyla tucked it securely behind their backs and beneath their chins.

"Thank you." Mya let out a soft sigh and closed her eyes.

Kyla's heart melted as she watched them. They were the cutest kids she'd ever seen. Adamar's eyes slid shut.

"Should we be letting them sleep?" She glanced at Jethro. "Isn't it bad to fall asleep in the cold?"

"I don't know." Jethro shrugged. "I'm going to stick with my theory that they can't die."

"So it's only us that has to stay awake then."

Jethro's smile was grim. His head bobbed and he let out a shaky breath. Stepping past her, he reached for a blanket and laid it down against Neema.

Nestling into it, he shuffled back, undid his coat and stretched his arms wide. Kyla felt an awkward moment of hesitation. She was engaged to another man. She wasn't supposed to be attracted to Jethro, but since their fiery kiss on the valley floor of the Canyon Lands, she hadn't been able to look at him the same.

Jethro's eyes narrowed as he watched her. Clearing her throat, she forced a small chuckle and sat down beside him. They were about to freeze to death. Her embarrassment was hardly an issue now. Wriggling up to his side, she threaded her arms inside his coat and around his body. Resting her head on his shoulder, she adjusted her position until she was moulded comfortably against him. The tension in his muscles was hard to miss. He was obviously feeling as awkward as she was. She knew he regretted kissing her. He had only done it to stop her from hitting him. He'd made that very clear.

In spite of knowing this, her fingers still itched to run up his back, to explore each muscle and curve of his torso. He had always been strong as a child, but now that he was, well...a man, he was becoming a force to be reckoned with. She'd been able to study his chest in detail while he had lain on the wooden bed, recovering from his allergic reaction to the dragonfly bites. She'd felt a little guilty doing it but hadn't been able to stop herself. Jethro was beautiful and he felt divine against her right now.

She closed her eyes and managed to rein in her happy sigh.

"Don't fall asleep." Jethro's voice was husky.

Her eyes pinged open, but it didn't take long for them to drift shut again. She felt comfortable. The shakes were slowly easing and exhaustion was setting in fast.

"I can't keep my eyes open anymore."

Jethro squeezed her to him. It felt good. She wanted him to wrap his other arm around her, to pull her against him and kiss her again. Instead his hand rubbed up and down her arm, vigorously trying to rid the chills from her bones.

"We can't give in."

"Face reality, Jethro. This could be the end."

His hand slowed then ran up her arm, resting gently on her neck. His thumb touched the end of her pointy chin as his rough lips brushed her forehead.

Kyla closed her eyes and smiled. "It's not such a bad end," she murmured without thought.

Jethro went still.

What had she just said? Her stomach clenched as she replayed it. No, it was okay. Nothing too much to read into. She was in a cave with her best friend. They had grown up together so dying together seemed only appropriate. She hadn't said anything that would give away how she really felt.

All was well.

Kyla struggled to breathe as she opened her eyes and gazed up at Jethro. He was looking at her with an expression she'd seen before. Usually it only lasted a moment, because he'd catch himself and shut down, but he'd promised her he'd stop pulling away. He'd promised.

Kyla waited in nervous silence, but his look remained soft and tender.

"Why did you kiss me?" she whispered.

His eyes lit with a grin. "So you'd stop trying to kill me with your fists."

"Is that the only reason?"

She had been afraid to ask, but her mouth was functioning with a mind of its own. She needed to know.

Jethro broke eye contact. Was his face about to go hard? Was he cutting her off again?

"Jethro?" She brought her hand up to his chest. Sliding it over his firm body, she rested her finger on his Adam's apple. "Please tell me the truth."

He placed his hand on top of hers, pulling it away from his neck. She expected him to tuck it around behind his back again, but instead he ran his thumb gently over her skin and began spinning the ring on her thumb.

It was agony waiting for an answer. He kept on breathing in as though to speak, but then the air would wisp through his lips and she'd be left with nothing. Eventually she turned away and nestled her head back on his shoulder. She didn't want him to see her disappointment. She shouldn't even be asking. The truth wouldn't change the fact that she was betrothed to Athra, and if by some miracle they made it back to Taramon one day...

She closed her eyes. She didn't want to think about it.

Sleep began to chase her again. She would have to die never knowing Jethro's answer. Tears collected behind her eyelids. She swallowed hard, refusing to let any of them spill.

Jethro stopped playing with her ring and slid his hand back up to her shoulder.

"Why did you really kiss me?" Sleep was upon her; the words were merely murmured in a precursor to slumber.

"Because I love you, Kyla. I always have."

She wasn't even sure the words were real. Her mind was already floating on a dream. A soft smile touched her lips before the blackness took her.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

As always there are a multitude of people to thank, so here goes...

To my critique readers \- Cassie, Kate, Suzy, Tee, Brenda and Carl. Thank you so much for getting back to me with such amazing feedback. You guys are awesome and have made this book shine. Your friendship means so much to me and I look forward to working with you all for many years to come.

To my editor - Laurie. You rock, lady. I have never worked with such a great editor before. It's been a privilege having you tweak my text and lift it to a higher standard.

To my proof-reader, Brynna. Thanks for being the final set of eyes on this. You caught all the little things I missed and I will be forever grateful for your awesomeness.

To my cover designer - Kelly. Thank you so much for re-designing such stunning covers. They are beautiful. You captured Kyla perfectly.

To my awesomesauce street team - THANK YOU!! Your support makes this journey a million times better.

To Indie Inked - becoming part of your fantastic crew has been a highlight for me this year. I am privileged to work beside such amazing authors.

To my best friend - Brenda. Thank you for always being such a great support. I love you so much my darling friend xx

To my family - thanks for your time, your love and your pride. It means the world to me.

To my inspiration - I love you now and forever more.

ABOUT MELISSA PEARL

Melissa Pearl is a kiwi at heart, but currently lives in Suzhou, China with her husband and two sons. She trained as an elementary school teacher, but has always had a passion for writing and finally completed her first manuscript in 2003. She has been writing ever since and the more she learns, the more she loves it. Keep an eye out for future projects.

CONNECT WITH MELISSA PEARL

You can contact Melissa Pearl online:

Website: http://melissapearlauthor.com

Blogs:

http://melissapearl.blogspot.com

http://yalicious.blogspot.com/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/melissapearlauthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MelissaPearlG

A Zealous Design Author: http://www.zealousdesign.co.nz

You can also subscribe to Melissa Pearl's Book Updates Newsletter. You will be the first to know about any book news, new releases and giveaways.

Follow this link to sign up.

OTHER BOOKS BY MELISSA PEARL

The Elements Trilogy

Unseen (due for release: July 2013)

Unleashed (due for release: August 2013)

The Time Spirit Trilogy

Golden Blood

Black Blood

Pure Blood

The Mica & Lexy Series

Forbidden Territory

Forbidden Waters (due for release: 2013)

Betwixt

Find out more on Melissa Pearl's website: http://www.melissapearlauthor.com
AUTHOR RECOMMENDATIONS

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Alivia Anders

Cambria Hebert

Angela Orlowski Peart

Julia Crane

J. A. Huss

Cameo Renae

Alexia Purdy

Tabatha Vargo

Beth Balmanno

Lizzy Ford

Ella James

Tara West

Heidi McLaughlin

Melissa Andrea

L. P. Dover

Sarah M. Ross

Brina Courtney

Anna Cruise

Komal Kant

http://www.indieinked.com

Other fantasy/paranormal authors to look out for are:

T.G. Ayer - author of The Valkyrie Series

tgayer.wordpress.com

Patti Larsen - author of The Hayle Coven Novels

http://www.pattilarsen.com

Carl Sinclair - author of Pandora's Gate Series (July 2013)

http://www.carlsinclairauthor.com

