 
The Curse of Credesar, Book 1

### by Robert E. Keller

Smart Goblin Publishing 2011

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2011 Robert E. Keller

About the Author:

Robert E. Keller is a fantasy writer who has had more than 30 stories published in magazines, and he is the author of several epic fantasy novels. You can find more information on his projects at www.robertekeller.net

Chapter 1: The Awakening

Was this the morning of his execution?

Kelden Delure leaned against the closed window shutters in his room near the top of Valganleer Tower, pressing his forehead against the smooth boards. Once again, Kelden searched inside himself for some trace of Credesar's existence, but he found nothing. That gave him no relief, however, for it didn't mean the demon wasn't lurking inside him.

Kelden chose not to open the shutters to let in dawn's light. He deserved to stand in darkness. After all, he was shunned now by all of the seers, teachers, and students in the tower--a monster who should remain in the shadows.

Chills crawled over Kelden's flesh, as he contemplated losing himself forever to a fiend of unspeakable evil. Perhaps it was better he simply be put to death.

"I've come for you," a deep voice said, as a heavy hand settled on him. It felt like his shoulder had been trapped by warm stone.

With a cry, Kelden whirled around, his blood lore magic flooding through him and toward the target. But that target was only Theodus.

Kelden let the spell falter. "Why did you sneak up on me like that?"

Theodus was a Dar fiend--a squat, ugly creature that somewhat resembled a gargoyle without wings. Because his flesh was similar to stone, Theodus weighed more than five-hundred pounds, but his gnarled feet bore thick, natural padding on their soles and they made no noise on the floor.

"I did not sneak," Theodus replied disdainfully. "Thieves sneak. Mice sneak. I, however, walk with dignified silence."

Kelden shivered, the chill in his heart deepened by sudden dread. Theodus' arms were folded across his chest--a defensive, worried stance. The black and crimson substance that was his flesh shimmered in agitation, looking like lava that was half hardened, and his bat-like head was bowed. His ears were twitching--a sign of deep distress.

"What is it, Theodus?" said Kelden, though he already knew.

"Bad news," Theodus said, his voice heavy with foreboding. "The high council wants to see you right away."

Kelden's heart fluttered with panic. He'd known this moment was coming and had tried to prepare himself, but he'd failed miserably. "Is it about the...the Credesar thing?"

Theodus nodded. "As you well know. And I can tell you this--the council didn't look too happy, Vangoss in particular."

"If I am Credesar," Kelden said, "they'll most likely kill me soon enough." And for the first time in more than two years, he longed to leave behind the material comforts of Valganleer and go anywhere else--even back to the filthy fields of the Horrat lands where he'd spent his youth hunting rats for survival. Being muddy, sick, and hungry was preferable to death--for with life, however dismal, there was hope.

Kelden shook his head. "I don't understand this." Fumbling about with uncooperative hands, he got dressed. "Why me, Theodus? Why this? They've already ruined my life here. The seers avoid me, the teachers avoid me, and..." He couldn't bring himself to speak of the girl who'd broken his heart.

"You don't look so good all of a sudden," said Theodus. "You need to calm yourself before you appear in front of the high council."

Kelden turned to a full-length mirror. His black robe with red trim lent him a little dignity, but certainly not enough. Even in the dim light, he could see his skin had gone pale. His blond hair was a tangled mess, and two shocked blue eyes stared out from his weary face.

Kelden closed his eyes, and he could feel the crushing weight of Valganleer Tower bearing down on him, a mountainous structure of halls and chambers connected by a single winding stairway, where shadow and stone allied themselves to preserve mysteries Kelden could never hope to understand. It was a lair of sacrifice where the needs of a single human meant nothing, where the future of the human race in its entirety was all that mattered.

"I feel something strange," Kelden said, slipping on his boots. "It could be some type of dark sorcery." He wondered if Theodus was the cause, or if the seers were up to something. The Dar fiend was Kelden's link, which meant Kelden channeled his sorcery through Theodus to make it stronger. Theodus was an amplifier of sorts that could double any magic Kelden sent through him. But negative residue from that sorcery would often build up in the Dar fiend until it infested him and rendered him ineffective. Only a cleansing--which removed all traces of that magical residue--could restore him to normal.

"It isn't me," said Theodus. "I had a cleansing not too long ago."

Kelden's gaze passed over the shelves that ran along the oaken walls. He saw potions, scales, books, and scrolls--all fine items, but ones he had no use for right now. They couldn't help him in this situation.

Kelden's back suddenly felt exposed--as if someone were aiming a spear at him from behind. He had the urge to put his back to the wall. Confused, he glanced around like a caged animal looking for a way out. Theodus watched him with a curious expression.

Kelden shook his head. "What am I feeling?"

"Probably fear and discomfort," Theodus said. "Understandable."

Kelden again shook his head. "No, it's... Never mind."

"I have something for you," Theodus said, a sad, almost guilty expression in his eyes. "It was given to me by Vangoss. It will help calm you." The Dar fiend handed Kelden a bracelet made of an element called lakeshine. It glowed varying shades of blue and silver, despite the shadows. Runes covered it in leafy patterns.

Kelden hesitated, staring at the bracelet as if it were worm spawn. "Theodus, this is obviously to...to control or hurt me." The chills grew to an almost unbearable pitch or panic--now unmistakable signs of powerful sorcery. It radiated like searing heat from the bracelet.

Theodus nodded sadly. "But you have no choice. There is no escape from Valganleer, Kelden."

Theodus' words couldn't be denied, and so, with the will drained from him, Kelden took the bracelet. Strangely, the dark sensations ceased as soon as the item left Theodus' hand. Kelden slid the bracelet onto his wrist. It tightened down--painfully at first, and then it loosened just enough so the pain vanished. The chills had disappeared, but the terror remained.

Kelden gazed at his friend, and the Dar fiend gazed back. Yellow, inhuman eyes reached out with pity to the numb eyes of a man whose humanity and place in the world seemed to be slipping away. Kelden was the true fiend now, not Theodus. He was the shunned one who would face scrutiny and possibly execution.

"I've only known you for two years," Theodus said. "But I've come to be quite fond of you, Kelden. I'd trade places with you if I could."

Kelden nodded, knowing the Dar fiend was sincere. "I wouldn't let you, Theodus. This is my problem and I have to face it. Maybe things will turn out okay. Maybe I'll pass their little test and prove I'm not..." He couldn't bring himself to finish.

"I don't believe all that nonsense," Theodus said, his eyes flashing with anger. "How could you be the vile demon Credesar--a simple rat trapper from the Horrat lands like you? It's impossible! The seers have lost their minds. Why would Credesar enter this world as a mortal? It would be pointless to exist as a weak human. I lack the power of Credesar, but even for a simple Dar fiend like me to become human would be a big step down in power. And I personally know that no fiend would ever choose mortal flesh over the element he was forged from. It's just not in our makeup. We love who we are. And if Credesar were inside of you, why wouldn't you be aware of him? I think Vangoss, or someone else on the high council, has delved too deeply into some foul sorcery and no longer has his wits about him. This is ridiculous!"

"I hope you're right, obviously," Kelden said. "I don't feel any trace of a monster inside me." It felt good to get this in the open and talk it out. He decided he was done keeping it shut away within him. If he was to face trial and death, then he'd do so speaking his mind and demanding justice, for he had nothing to lose. "I've never felt an evil presence inside me," he added, "or even had a nightmare about Credesar, until the seers told me of their suspicions. Wouldn't there be some kind of sign?"

"I should think so," Theodus said. "But we've no time to talk, and it will do no good regardless. Let's get it over with."

Kelden nodded, feeling stronger and slightly more hopeful. "I'm ready."

"I'll be by your side, my friend," said Theodus.

"But are you sure you want to go to the Sky Chamber with me?" said Kelden. "You've been my link the whole time I've been at Valganleer. They might decide you're a danger too, for whatever reason. Maybe you should stay away."

"It won't make a difference," said Theodus. "If I'm to be judged, there is nowhere I can hide. Besides, we shall face this together--and perish together, if we must."

Kelden managed a smile. "Then at least I know my time here wasn't wasted, for I've gained the best friend one could possibly have. That has to be worth something."

Theodus patted him on the shoulder. "Let's be off, then."

Kelden stared at his wrist. It felt odd, tightly squeezed. Theodus looked at him questioningly.

"Is something wrong, Kelden?"

"My wrist feels strange," Kelden said. "What did you do to it?"

"I...I can't remember," Theodus said. "Didn't you have something on it like a bracelet? Or were you carrying something in your hand?"

Kelden shook his head, struggling to remember. "I thought you gave me something." He studied his wrist in the dim light and then ran his hand over it. He felt cold, smooth skin but nothing else.

"We've forgotten," Theodus said, his lip curled into a sneer of disgust. "We've been made to forget. Whatever abomination I gave you has passed out of sight and mind for us, a burden you must bear but can never comprehend."

Kelden squeezed his wrist until it ached, hating the seers with all of his heart. Once he'd loved them and would have done anything for them, for they had saved him from a life of pain and sickness in the rat fields. But now they seemed childish and corrupt, indifferent to his troubles. They had rescued him only out of their own needs to recruit students for sorcery training to continue their lineage. They could destroy him without regret if their needs demanded it.

They stepped out into the Rune Hall, which was so named because the stone blocks of the walls and ceilings were covered in sorcery runes--blood lore writings that depicted bits of wisdom. The tunnel was lit by four large torches, but shadows lingered deep here and there. They found it deserted. Only blood lore students dwelt in rooms along this hall, and they were all asleep and would remain so until evening, as they were--along with the astronomers--the night owls of Valganleer.

Theodus plodded ahead on his stubby legs, his gnarled feet deathly silent against the floor. Kelden's footsteps rang out loud and accusing. They entered Stargazer Hall, where a glittering map of the cosmos covered the entire ceiling. The planets, stars, moons, and comets gave the impression that there was in fact no ceiling and the endless heavens were visible. The eight observatory doors were still unlocked, the astronomers pouring over charts or debating theories. It seemed that they never slept--and perhaps some of them never did.

Beyond Stargazer Hall lay a chamber in which one vast stairway wound about a pillar at the center of Valganleer Tower, with bridges reaching out to connect the halls to it. Kelden likened the inside of Valganleer to a giant honeycomb, with the walls riddled with tunnels and the hollow center being occupied by the stairway pillar that bound the whole thing together. The reason for this bizarre design had been lost with the passing of centuries.

Kelden felt queasy as he crossed the bridge, his legs weak, and he tried to stay as far from the edges as possible. The bridges had no rails, and they were so narrow that one misstep could lead to a long and fatal drop into the stone bowels of the tower. It had happened before and would likely happen again. The strangeness of the tower overwhelmed Kelden, as it always did when he was confronted with some seemingly insane structure--and there were many of those throughout Valganleer. The tower inspired a number of sensations--such as fear, wonder, loathing, and outright amazement that such a fortress could ever have been built. For more than two years he'd existed within these walls, but he still often felt like a stranger here--and now more so than ever since he was confined to his room most of the time.

Kelden's imagination was drawn into a maze of dark chambers and tunnels, into a keep so old it was often hard to make sense of its history. He envisioned the ruined continent of Americk Dreeth, dotted with massive Legaran fortresses like Valganleer. It was an ugly vision. Centuries before, when the human race lay on the brink of extinction, the Legarans--the great seers who had established their might above all others--had separated themselves from those less fortunate by building eight enormous towers and shutting themselves away within them. Simple folk were left to populate the continent of Americk Dreeth--farmers, merchants, and trappers, among others. It was the ultimate class division, as those privileged enough to dwell within the towers lived like kings and those unfortunate enough to dwell outside of them lived like peasants.

Seven callings, or sects of sorcery, existed in each tower--the Uldens, the tempests, the Gelshads, blood lore, old lore, alchemy, and the Thelaran keepers. The seers conducted the major experiments of sorcery and alchemy, created the laws of the towers and updated them, and made all the important decisions concerning the surrounding lands. The teachers taught the students and had no real influence beyond their classrooms. The Gelshads were pure warriors who defended the keep and sometimes were sent on missions beyond the stone walls. The class and law systems that existed in Valganleer and the other Legaran fortresses were ancient and highly effective. The towers had withstood vast corruption from within and horrors from without for over two thousand years without a single one falling into ruin.

Knowing these facts, Kelden understood partly why many things which he considered absurd (like bridges without rails) had been left in place, even if their original purposes were forgotten. The seers were reluctant to change anything in a system that had endured so long, and they only did so when absolutely necessary.

As these thoughts passed through Kelden's mind, the full weight of what he stood to lose at last took his will, and for a moment he faltered, pausing halfway across the bridge. If he was Credesar, or harbored the fiend inside him, at worst he'd be killed. At best, he'd be banished from the tower. Either fate seemed equally wretched, for life in the wastelands was pure misery. He had no money and no useful work skills, and so earning a living in one of the few underground cities on Americk Dreeth was unlikely. He would probably end up a beggar.

"We must keep going," Theodus whispered.

Kelden nodded, and forced his legs into motion. They reached the stairs and started up. It was a wearying climb, as the stairway wound upward around the central pillar past more bridges and tunnels. They met no one on the way, and Kelden was thankful it was too late, and also too early, for most to be awake. He had no wish to face any sneers of disgust or questioning looks this morning.

At last the stairway ended at a closed trapdoor. Theodus yanked on a rope, and a bell chimed out above. A whisper descended: "Who seeks to enter the Sky Chamber?"

"Theodus." The Dar fiend's words echoed three times--captured and studied with a magical recognition device called a mood compass that would determine if it was actually Theodus and even some of what his intent was.

"And Kelden Delure." Kelden's voice sounded dry and feeble. No magical device was needed to comprehend his mood.

The trapdoor opened, and the two climbed into Valganleer's highest chamber, the trapdoor closing behind them. They stood in a circular room made of marble bricks. The stairway pillar didn't extend up into this chamber, but helped support the floor from beneath. The ceiling--the very peak of Valganleer--was thirty feet above them, with four huge arches meeting at the center of it. A Hetheope guard towered over them--a furry, horned giant--created by the alchemists--that somewhat resembled a Minotaur from ancient legend. It wore thick armor and carried a big iron hammer. Two crimson eyes, beady and sullen, gazed out from its bull-like face.

Six tempest seers--masters of elemental sorcery--stood off to one side in a circle, their faces hidden by low-hanging hoods. Each held an Aldar serpent that hissed and twisted about. The serpents--which were links similar to Dar fiends like Theodus but made from a different element--channeled the seers' power through them. The snakes periodically vomited out a thin, transparent mist that spread throughout the Sky Chamber. Kelden had no idea what they were doing or why.

Another nearby circle consisted of grey-robed Thelaran keepers. They were all women, for no man was allowed to join their calling. Their yellowish faces were tense and emotional in the torchlight, and they held their crystal daggers--their links--near their chests in their traditional stance. They studied Kelden and Theodus with distrust and possibly outright contempt. They sent out Thelaran's gaze, searching the two for signs of hostile intent, and the familiar sick feeling washed over Kelden for a moment. It felt like they were probing his innards with little fingers.

Also nearby was the stone judgment, a rectangular block of white marble. Behind that sat the five high council members, visible from the chest up, their faces grim in the torchlight. On the forehead of each council member (except for Vangoss Fayer, an Ulden seer and the leader of the group) was branded the rune of Green World--a symbol shaped like a leaf. Vangoss, however, had an eye shape branded into his forehead--the ancient symbol of the Ulden teachings--that had been seared into his flesh before the practice of branding other symbols besides the leaf rune had been banished in an attempt to create unity among the seers during a dark period of Valganleer's history.

A black-cloaked, hooded figure stood beside the stone judgment, holding a greenstone book of records that would record any act of sorcery and the statements uttered by those present. This was Salvensteed Laget, the historian and scribe of Valganleer who always kept his face concealed by a dark cloth mask. No one knew exactly how old he was, or even what he was, but he'd been the chief historian as far back as the magically inscribed stable records ran, and he even appeared at various points in the slowly diminishing unstable records (which meant his age and length of service were impossible to make even a good guess at). Though many of them did not age thanks to their vast knowledge of sorcery, the seers always died--if not from an accident or a rare disease than from the fatal bite of a Halstarion worm. Life was too dangerous, even in Valganleer, for one to avoid death indefinitely. Yet somehow Salvensteed Laget had survived much longer than even the greatest seers.

Kelden nearly cringed. Appearing before the high council was something that never occurred lightly and was never desirable for a student. The high council didn't gather to reward or promote--the lesser seers and teachers did that. They either met to discuss important issues, or they met to hand out punishment. By the way the Thelaran keepers were staring at him, Kelden guessed it was the latter, and he began to tremble, his throat drying up. Theodus clutched Kelden's arm to steady him.

"Stay calm," the Dar fiend whispered.

"I am calm," Kelden mumbled back.

Salvensteed bowed to the high council. "May we begin?" he asked. His voice was low and slippery sounding, almost mocking.

"We may," each of the council members agreed.

Salvensteed laid the record book upon the stone judgment. "This, the forty-two thousandth, nine-hundredth and sixty-fourth meeting of the high council according to the stable records, is hereby entered into the greenstone log. Vangoss Fayer, Ulden seer and lord of the high council, may now present his case."

Vangoss stood up and adjusted his plain, gold-colored robe (which all the council members wore), placing his hands upon the stone judgment. He was over seven feet in height. Formerly a Gelshad fighter long ago in his youth, he'd retained the powerful build that was a signature of Valganleer's elite soldiers, and it lent authority to his presence. The other council members seemed overshadowed by their leader (save for Amsel Heckenbrau, the Arnwolf seer of blood lore, who had shoulders even wider than Vangoss did). Vangoss' eyes were pure white--a condition that couldn't be changed and was leftover from his experimentations with Ulden lore. Like his eyes, his hair and beard were also white, making him look old in spite of his smooth face.

"Kelden Delure, I welcome you before the high council," Vangoss began. "Before we get to why you've been summoned, tell us a bit about your background. But be warned--you stand within the Sky Chamber. Speak only the truth, young man, for Thelaran's gaze will bear witness to your words."

Kelden cleared his throat. "I was, um, born in the Horrat lands, west of Tembros. I was...I mean, I am, the son of rat trappers. I was called to Valganleer during a summoning, and I'm a student here."

"And you've apparently been a good student," said Vangoss. "Nothing less than top marks throughout your two years here, and certainly no trouble maker. The teachers have spoken fondly of you. What's your calling?"

"Blood lore," Kelden said.

That response brought forth whispering among the other council members. "Interesting," Vangoss said, as the others nodded. "A practice similar to old lore teachings of motion, where movement releases the energy--in this case the movement of your own blood. This is a highly advanced teaching, especially for someone who has only been here a mere two years, a man barely in his twenties. Don't you think?"

Kelden hesitated, glancing at Theodus. The Dar fiend didn't return the glance, staying focused on the council. Was that something mocking or malicious in Vangoss' expression? At last Kelden said, "My teachers thought I was ready for it."

"And they were right," said Vangoss. "As I mentioned--top marks throughout. Now why do you suppose that is? Are you just extraordinarily talented, Kelden Delure? Or is it something more?"

There was definitely something mocking and malicious there. Kelden's heart pounded harder. The high council members studied him with looks of deep concern--save for Amsel, the Arnwolf seer, whose face was passive. Vangoss seemed to be playing out some elaborate act in an effort to prove something to the rest of the council. It was going to be a while yet before he learned why he was here.

"I don't know," Kelden said, shoring up his will. "I guess it was talent. What else could it be?" He shrugged helplessly.

Smiling, Vangoss continued. "What else indeed? What was life like in the Horrat lands?"

"Wretched," Kelden said. "I worked from morning until dark every day of the week trapping rats. I was sick all the time from various illnesses."

"Rats?" questioned Vangoss.

"Giant rats," Kelden said. "They are often diseased--which is actually preferable. A diseased rat is more prized than a healthy one."

Vangoss' face wrinkled in disgust. "And these mutant rats are harvested for food? Or are they milked like cattle?"

"For blood," said Kelden. "The blood is used to make Greela wine, which we sell. We don't use anything else from the rats. The rats that have a disease called blood rot are the most valuable, for they make the most sought after wine."

"Blood!" said Vangoss, spreading his arms wide. "There we have mention of it again. This is indeed most interesting."

Mutterings arose from the others, but Vangoss silenced them with a gesture. "So how did the seers learn of your calling?"

Again Kelden hesitated. Vangoss was obviously trying to bait him somehow into admitting something, but what could it be? Even if he did harbor the fiend Credesar inside him, Kelden himself was innocent of all wrongdoing. He had nothing to fear from his words. Yet his instincts told him otherwise, warning him he actually had much to fear.

"They discovered it during the summoning," said Kelden.

"I see," said Vangoss. "Salvensteed Laget, do the stable records list how many times a calling has been identified during a summoning?"

"They should, Lord Vangoss," said Salvensteed. "But it would take some time to look it up--maybe days, even, depending on many factors. Yet I can tell you from what I've personally witnessed, not many have been discovered that way. Usually it takes months and sometimes even years of testing to identify a calling. But you knew that, Lord Vangoss, I'm sure."

"A very uncommon occurrence, then," said Vangoss. "A summoning is simply a method of locating young men and women throughout the land who have a talent for sorcery. It is not supposed to reveal the precise nature of that talent. But this one did! Have you looked up the record of the particular summoning we are discussing, Salvensteed?"

"At your request," said the historian, "I have done so. The will of blood lore apparently came through so strongly it left a physical taste in the mouth of the seer conducting the summoning. It was unmistakable."

"What do you know of blood lore?" Vangoss asked.

"It is about attack," said Salvensteed. "It is the most dangerous of Valganleer's teachings. Blood lore students learn primarily to kill."

"So blood and violence are the elements of your calling, Kelden Delure," said Vangoss. "Do you dispute this in light of what our trusted historian has just said?"

"I was chosen for it," said Kelden. "I just tried to do my best." Where is this all leading? his mind screamed.

"I dispute it," said Amsel Heckenbrau, standing up. He was shorter than Vangoss, but wider and even more powerfully built. His black beard was thicker, and his eyebrows bushier. The Arnwolf seer scowled in displeasure. "Blood lore students are indeed taught how to kill, but they are not taught to be violent. In fact, blood lore teaches the opposite. It is about life and hope!"

"But the whole purpose behind it seems to be violence," said Vangoss. "For what else could the lessons be used for?"

"That which kills can also change or heal," said Amsel. "And why do you question an ancient and accepted teaching of Valganleer? For reasons I have never understood, our calling has been scorned throughout the ages. Yet how many blood lore seers have been known to draw energy from the forbidden realm of Blue World as the false gods did back in their time? Far less than have the Ulden seers!"

"Very well," said Vangoss, waving his hand impatiently. "Regardless, blood lore is the most dangerous of our teachings. Or do you dispute that as well?"

"I do not," said Amsel. "It is indeed dangerous, but only because it is powerful and could be used to cause harm. But it is seldom erratic. It is one of the more stable practices, with the chance element playing but a small role."

"Then we've established its great potential for harm," said Vangoss, "if nothing else." He fixed his gaze on Kelden again. "Tell us what your last name means, Kelden Delure."

"It means..." Kelden paused, realizing what he was about to say. But nothing could be done about it. He had to speak the truth. "It means blood in the old Horrat speech," he finished quietly. "It goes back a long way."

"Upon what exact date were you born?" asked Vangoss.

"I was...I was born on Sarrith Day," said Kelden, "the sixteenth of Eldrem, in forty six." He wondered how Vangoss could possibly find anything connected to blood in that answer.

"How are these dates significant, Salvensteed?" said Vangoss.

Salvensteed calculated. "Eight thousand forty-six," he said at last, "marks the one-hundred year anniversary of Goben's Bloodfall--when a crazed former seer and cult leader had his followers ritually sacrificed to demons. The sixteenth of Eldrem is the anniversary of the Bloodwake Moon--when a permanent crimson glow engulfed the smaller moon in our night sky. And Sarrith Day was formerly known as Jarvin Day. Jarvin is the false god of blood, and Credesar the Bloodthirsty was the demon who served him and laid waste to the land!"

Whisperings erupted among the council. Amsel, however, lowered his gaze and remained silent, his eyes fixed upon the stone judgment. The Arnwolf seer bore a thoughtful expression.

"And finally," said Vangoss, "how much of your Wer blood did you consume, Kelden Delure?"

"About half," Kelden said, inwardly cringing.

"Half!" Vangoss remarked, with wide eyes. "Most impressive, I must say. Few students can take more than a couple of sips before vomiting."

"Some have consumed nearly the whole bottle," Amsel said. "This proves only that Kelden is talented and nothing more. And Wer blood is not actual blood--if you're trying to make some connection there. Don't be ridiculous!"

"Perhaps," said Vangoss. "But this man is linked with blood in many ways. And with Jarvin being the false god of blood, could it be only coincidence?"

Linked with blood? Desperately Kelden's mind searched for answers, while realizing, with chills flooding along his spine, the truth in Vangoss' statement. Again he glanced at Theodus, but the Dar fiend stayed focused on the council (though his lava-flesh was shimmering swiftly and his bat ears twitched).

"But what does this prove?" said Lebin Nureck, standing up. He was almost two feet shorter than Vangoss and Amsel, and slight of build, with tangled brown hair and a curly beard. This alchemist, known as a quick-tempered, self-important man who was always in a hurry to get somewhere, was the oddball of the council. The other four were well-respected men, but Lebin's promotion to the high council was based solely upon his many achievements. He had done more for Valganleer than all of the other council members combined, yet his snobbish attitude of superiority, and legendary temper, made him the most disliked of the five--the reasons for which he never seemed to understand. His past was haunted by two dead wives (both victims of the Halstarion worms that endlessly hunted the land), a manic fixation with deeper truths that had led him countless times into depression, and an addiction to alcohol.

"It proves little," said Vangoss. "But it sets the stage for what is to come. Before this meeting has ended, the truth will be learned."

"How?" said Lebin. His face had reddened, and he bore a scowl. "Here we have a young man, probably shaking in his boots and baffled by this whole affair, as I am." He glared at Amsel. "And since when has an Arnwolf seer ever accurately predicted anything? The chance element may be low in most areas of blood lore, but it is far too high in your methods of sight to make a noteworthy prediction about this Kelden Delure."

"I disagree," Amsel said calmly. "Under the right circumstances, I can determine the true will of the false gods--if anyone can. All I ask is that I be allowed to test this boy to determine the truth."

"But it is dangerous!" muttered Lebin. "There must be a better way."

Kelden's heart lurched. What were they planning? This was Valganleer, a Legaran tower, and it obeyed only its own laws--which meant they could do anything they wanted to him as long as the laws allowed it. He focused most of his attention on Lebin Nureck, for the alchemist seemed have taken his side somewhat.

Orlar Callick stood up. "There is no other way." Orlar was the oldest, and considered by many to be the wisest, high council member. He was one of the kindest and most noble men ever to set foot in Valganleer. It was widely believed that his heart was incorruptible. He was a black-skinned man with shoulder-length curly hair and a clean-shaven face, his jaw square and his eyes dark. He never smiled.

"No other way?" said Lebin. "Have we even searched for another way?"

Orlar nodded slowly. "I did not arrive at this conclusion lightly, Lebin. Only the Arnwolf seers can determine the truth in this matter, for only they are indirectly linked to the false gods and can indeed predict their will. Remember, blood lore was the primary sorcery of the false gods when they were seers. It lingers on within them, and through it the Arnwolf seers can establish contact on the darkest level of that calling. We must heed Amsel's advice concerning this issue."

Junos Elserninstine, the tempest seer, chuckled and rose to her feet. "I guess if all of you must stand up so dramatically, I will too so as not to be overshadowed. I only have this to say--yes, there is a danger, but the boy should be tested. We cannot afford to ignore this." Of all the high council members, Junos was typically the most relaxed and had the best sense of humor. She brought a badly needed light-hearted presence to the otherwise grim council. As far as talent went, Junos was on a level all by herself, able to tackle the most complex and dangerous affairs of Valganleer with an ease and grace others could only marvel at. She had shimmering blond hair and pale skin, with bright blue eyes that always seemed to hold a twinkle. She was slight of build yet curvy, graceful and athletic--and many men had desired her over the years. But she had always been too absorbed in her studies and duties to bother with personal relationships.

"Then four of us are in agreement," said Vangoss. "Do you still oppose, Lebin?"

"I oppose," said Lebin. "But I do not do so officially, since I would be overruled regardless. But let the records show that I am against this idea."

"Your protest is noted," said Vangoss.

What about my protest? thought Kelden. As a blood lore student, and a former rat trapper, Kelden was not unused to danger. But nothing the council said was ever to be taken lightly. If they called something dangerous, that probably meant it was life threatening to a notable degree.

"Then before I begin," said Amsel, "we should explain everything to the boy. He deserves that much, at least."

Vangoss focused his white eyes on Kelden. "It was not our intention to keep you in the dark about why you're here, Kelden Delure, though I'm sure we've done a fine job of it. You already know that you may hold Credesar within you, but I shall now explain how we came to learn of that possibility. Amsel Heckenbrau--the lone Arnwolf seer of Valganleer--was trying to determine the will of Blue World by means of his sorcery when he discovered a horrendous truth about you."

This was the moment Kelden had been dreading, and his legs seemed ready to buckle beneath him. Dark tension lurked in every gaze as the council members scrutinized him, and he could not stop himself from visibly trembling. Theodus clutched his arm in a painful grip, the Dar fiend's claws digging into his flesh. And all Kelden could think about was rivers and rivers of accusing blood.

"What he learned, " Vangoss continued, "is that you are nothing less than Jarvin's link--the demon Credesar."

"That's not exactly true!" Lebin Nureck protested. "First of all, Amsel learned that Kelden might bear Credesar within him--not that he himself is the fiend."

Vangoss ignored the alchemist. "As Salvensteed mentioned," he went on, "Jarvin is the false god of blood, and like the other false gods and their links, he was imprisoned in the Shifting that borders Blue World and our own realm--that purgatory that lies in between. Apparently, Jarvin somehow found a way to get his servant Credesar through the barrier and into this existence by implanting him into your unborn body! We do not yet understand how. You were birthed as a mortal, yet your soul is bonded to Credesar--one of the abhorrent Paltos fiends. If that isn't terrible enough, you are also possibly still in service of Jarvin, linked to him in a way that the Shifting does not defend against. If so, he can exert his will and power through you!"

Theodus stiffened and yanked his hand away from Kelden. The Dar fiend's yellow eyes were round in shock, and his fangs were exposed in a crooked, humorless grin that signified amazement. But strangely, he wasn't looking at Kelden.

"I...I can't be him!" Kelden gasped, losing all self control. "I'm just Kelden Delure. I don't want to harm anyone. You are mistaken!"

Vangoss bowed his head sadly. "I wish it were so, but I think the Arnwolf seer has spoken truthfully. However, there is a test that can determine beyond a doubt if you are indeed Jarvin's link--and what your intent is, whether evil or good. Yet there is a danger--not to you, but to us. If you are Credesar, he will come forth during this test, and we shall have to contain him and send him back. We believe our power is strong enough, but we cannot be completely sure. If we are wrong, Credesar could bring a lot of destruction to Valganleer."

"If I am Jarvin's Link," said Kelden, "why don't I know it? Why hasn't he already sent his power through me?"

"We believe there is a simple answer to that," said Vangoss. "You are Jarvin's link, yet you are also Kelden Delure. Your body houses the fiend known as Credesar, but before he can take control of you, he needs to grow strong enough. This could occur slowly--with periodic transformations, or a single transformation that could be permanent. The exact process is still a mystery to us. Either way, eventually Credesar will have the strength to take control of your body, replacing it with his own--and you will cease to exist in this world forever."

"But this can't be!" Kelden insisted. "And even if it was true, couldn't you stop him? Surely one fiend can't be that powerful."

"Credesar is a powerful demon," said Vangoss. "And Jarvin's power is drastically increased when he uses Credesar as his link."

"But what do they want?" said Kelden, unable to comprehend the schemes of beings far greater than himself.

"To enslave us all," said Vangoss. "The false gods always sought to push the forces of Blue World upon us throughout the ages. No matter what else they tried to do, it always came back to that. Their true goal was to merge the icy wastelands of Blue World with our own realm of Green World--causing our world to be devoured and left cold and barren! Jarvin is considered to be the second most powerful of the false gods, after Ebros. And without a doubt, he is the most bloodthirsty and callous--stopping at nothing to corrupt anything he touches with foul sorcery. It took centuries of warfare to end his empire and finally imprison him in the Shifting with Ebros, Falthune, Yamkata, and Bromathus--the other seers who betrayed us and declared themselves living gods."

"I still say this is folly," grumbled Lebin. "We're putting all of Valganleer at risk in our haste to learn the truth. We still have a fair amount of time to consider all our options. I just don't understand why this needs to be done now."

"Credesar could come forth at any time," said Vangoss. "And we would not be assembled and ready to contain him. It must be done now!"

"Then let's get on with it," said Lebin, disgustedly. "I see you have all decided, and I am overruled. So I suppose there is no need to keep the boy in suspense any longer."

"Yes, let us proceed," said Amsel. "Our goal is not to inflict emotional strife upon this young man, but to learn if he is indeed Jarvin's link."

"Very well," said Vangoss. "Amsel, you may carry out the test. Arracks, come forth and stand ready." When Vangoss finished speaking, four Arrack fiends stepped from beyond the torchlight--tall and shadowy figures whose features were hard to identify. Sometimes they appeared to have horns, tails, and claws, and other times they seemed almost human. Their dark bodies were constantly in motion, shifting between appearances, yet they always kept a vaguely humanoid form.

Amsel stepped from behind the Stone Judgment and approached. Kelden shrank back, wishing he were anywhere else--even in some filthy mud hole checking traps for diseased rats. He dreaded the forthcoming test with all his heart, but he feared the truth it might reveal even more. What if he were discovered to be Jarvin's link? Surely the high council would have no choice but to destroy him.

"Relax," Amsel said, "for no harm shall come to you." His words had a peculiar echo to them, but they did nothing to ease Kelden's mind. Amsel began to chant in the whispers of the Arnwolf seers, his words completely unintelligible to the simple blood lore student. The air grew heavy, twitching and shuddering like living flesh, rubbing against Kelden like fumbling hands. His body recoiled and he tried to flee, giving no regard to the consequences. But the Hetheope Guard grabbed him and held him in place, its low growl warning Kelden not to struggle.

Hatred burned in Amsel's eyes--vile beyond anything Kelden could have imagined. Amsel's hatred was a force that seemingly could kill with pure intent, and every shred of it was focused on Kelden. Amsel's eyes were like lumps of burning coal, and the hatred radiating from them fell upon the terrified student like an executioner's axe, freezing his heart and breath. As Kelden watched, Amsel Heckenbrau changed form. Shifting shadows crept over him. Flesh bubbled and burst into thick shaggy hide, fangs sprouted from a wolf-like muzzle, and arms and legs stretched out long and crooked.

The hatred that bound Kelden in invisible chains mutated into a black rage, threatening to smother him and weakening his will. Something stirred within him in response. A force even darker than Amsel's hatred rose up and lashed out in retaliation, cleansing Kelden and leaving only calm in its wake. Exhilaration surged through him, and he suddenly felt powerful--beyond mortal fears and pain, and he obeyed no laws but his own. He also noticed that his arms, which were outstretched towards the men standing behind the stone judgment, were covered in dark scales, his fingers ending in claws.

This new force wanted to push Kelden into the depths and be done with him, but the seers radiated power through the Arrack links that locked him in place. His mind merged with the dark entity that had taken control of him and somehow the two beings became one.

Kelden--or whoever Kelden was merged with--struggled furiously to break free, but the high council and their links fought back with their power, holding him in place. He hated them--and not just because they desired to keep him from all that was rightfully his--but also because they were seers and seers had always sought his destruction. He felt their hold on him begin to weaken.

"Who are you?" Vangoss asked him, his voice strained.

"I'm Kelden Delure!" a voice inside him screamed. But a stronger voice easily overruled that one, smothering it into silence. "I am Credesar, you wretched seer! And if I could break free of your clutches, I'd tear those white eyeballs right out of your head!"

The moment he uttered those words, the tempest seers shifted positions, their Aldar serpents growing ridged. The mist they vomited out became pale and shimmering, engulfing the Arrack fiends. The Arracks became stable entities, displaying horns, tails, and flesh that did not change form. The power being channeled through them doubled in strength. Kelden--or the being he had become--fought back with all of his might, but to no avail. Now that the enhanced Arrack fiends had doubled the high council's power, the dark force within Kelden was shoved back to the depths from which it had come.

The council released Kelden from their power. The Arrack links toppled over, exhausted from the strain--devilish shadows that lay twitching. Kelden collapsed to one knee, and he would have fallen hard to the stone floor like the Arrack links were it not for the Hetheope guard who had seized hold of him again.

The tempest seers clutched each other for support. A couple of them wept openly. Their Aldar serpents lay dead, their life force exhausted. For all of their amplifying power, Aldar serpents were the least durable of the fiends. They would eventually be replaced, but the tempest seers were heartbroken and would not recover easily.

Kelden's mind went black for a few moments, and when he opened his eyes, Amsel Heckenbrau had returned to his normal appearance and stood behind the stone judgment with the rest of the high council. The Arrack links and tempest seers had departed. Beside him, Theodus was looking more agitated than ever. Kelden had no concept of how much time had passed. For all he knew, weeks could have gone by and this was a whole new meeting.

He concentrated on standing up. His legs were wobbly, but he managed to get to his feet of his own accord, though the Hetheope Guard still did not release him. He wasn't sure if he had a solid grip on his sanity. He felt reasonably stable on the surface, but underneath lurked things he dared not peer into.

Was he, then, the being known as Credesar? That question sought to invade his mind, and it took what little will he had left to battle against it.

"From what we have witnessed," said Vangoss, "we believe you are Jarvin's link. You are Credesar! The Thelaran keepers concur. We also know that Credesar holds malicious intent, and has not renounced his evil or come to this world to escape the darkness of his past. He seeks only vengeance upon us all."

Kelden glanced towards the keepers. Their yellow faces held shocked and dismayed looks. He glanced at the high council. They too--even Lebin--showed such expressions. And as for Theodus--the Dar fiend stared at Kelden, but apparently did not share in the dismay the others seemed to feel. Instead, his eyes flashed dangerously and his ears twitched slowly in anger. His gnarled hands were knotted into fists.

"So what's going to happen now?" Kelden mumbled. His voice sounded distant, its tone just as numb as his mind. "Are you going to kill me?"

"No," said Vangoss. "If we killed you, the transformation might occur instantly and permanently. We just don't know. Therefore, we have only one option. We must send you away from Valganleer to the northern Horrat lands--to the Legaran tower known as Frindagan. There--and only there--do they have the means to separate Credesar from your body and destroy him."

"This is all a bunch of lies!" Theodus suddenly hissed. "Don't believe him, Kelden. This isn't what it appears to be." The Dar fiend pointed at Vangoss. "You stink of dark sorcery! Don't think that you're going to get away--"

"Silence!" Vangoss bellowed. "Guard, quiet the Dar fiend and take him to the White Room. He is infested with magical residue and requires a cleansing, and it apparently has affected his judgment and instincts. The disgusting imp makes my flesh crawl. Get him out of my sight!"

The Hetheope guard released Kelden and seized Theodus, clamping his hand over the Dar fiend's mouth and lifting all five-hundred pounds of him high into the air. Theodus struggled fiercely, wiggling and clawing, but he was no match for the monstrous Hetheope. The Guard shuffled off into the shadows beyond the torchlight, carrying the squat, kicking figure along. Kelden stared after them, baffled. Even at his worst, Theodus never acted like that without good reason. And he'd recently had a cleansing. Dar fiends were suspicious by nature and sometimes had powerful intuition concerning human motivations. What had set Theodus off?

"You must leave this very day," said Vangoss. "You will travel with only your link--good riddance to him, by the way!--for it would be too dangerous for anyone else to journey with you. Once the transformations begin, Credesar will kill anyone near you whenever he appears--though he might be inclined to spare the Dar fiend, since he shares a remote kinship with it. You must use all you have learned to help you survive."

"Let the record show," said Amsel Heckenbrau, "that I will stand opposed to sending Kelden and his link off alone--regardless of who Credesar might kill. To me, it seems pure folly, and I can't believe I was overruled on this!"

Vangoss glared at him. "The issue has been decided. We cannot waste precious lives by sacrificing them to Credesar. And now is not the time to discuss this, Amsel. Or do you ask for a second vote at the risk of expulsion from the high council?"

Amsel hesitated, his face grim. Then he shook his head.

Vangoss nodded. "I thought as much."

Kelden stood in silence for a few moments. At last he said, "What if I get to that tower, and they..." Unable to speak of it, he went on, "Will I be killed?"  
"You stand a good chance of surviving the process," said Vangoss. "Once Credesar is drawn out of you and slain, you will be escorted back here to resume your studies. You will be able to lead a normal life."

"Yes, we think the process should go smoothly," Lebin said, "but the journey itself will be the most dangerous part of this affair." The alchemist bowed his head. "It will be far more dangerous than what awaits you at Frindagan. The Tembros lands, which lie between here and Frindagan, are unmerciful. Yet the Wisterus wastelands, which you also must travel through, are even worse."

"Your odds of survival on the journey are indeed poor," said Orlar Callick, who prided himself on his honesty. "But you must find ways to beat those odds, and not just for the sake of your own survival. Remember, your death could instantly free Credesar into our world."

"Believe in your abilities," said Junos, and she somehow managed a smile. "You are a student of Valganleer, and you can survive the trials that await you."

"Your teacher, Lendrith Bramas," said Vangoss, "has been assigned to help you prepare for the trip. He awaits you in the Low Room of the Meditation Hall. Upon leaving here, you shall go straight to that chamber and make ready to depart. Speak of this to no one, as we do not wish to cause panic in Valganleer. By nightfall, you and your link must be past the West Gate. And you must never return here, or visit any city, until Credesar is destroyed."

Kelden stared at the high council, searching for anything that might mean this nightmare was not actually real. But their faces were grim and unyielding. Then it was true. He actually was Credesar, unless they were lying to him as Theodus had seemed to think. He needed time alone to ponder everything, to gather his wits--and most importantly he needed to talk to Theodus and find out why the Dar fiend had made such an accusation. Either way, Kelden stood on the brink of something massive and strange, a mystery that would not be solved anytime soon and was certain to take him places he dared not try to imagine.

### Chapter 2: Thelaran's Warning

As the trapdoor banged shut, Kelden stumbled down the stairs. The high council wanted him to go to the Meditation Hall and prepare for his departure, but he wasn't ready to give up on the hope that the seers might somehow be wrong about him.

Coming around the stairway pillar--huffing, puffing, and grunting curses--was Zagrin Tarless, the law keeper and former tempest seer. An enormously fat man with poor hygiene, Zagrin was the butt of many jokes around Valganleer. But Kelden had always found him to be a likeable fellow, save for his habit of telling stories few cared to listen to, and he tried to treat him kindly. Zagrin leaned his bloated form against the pillar wall, struggling to catch his breath. Sweat dripped from his tangled black hair, and his grey robe bore wet spots below the armpits. Stubble darkened his sagging chins. His blue eyes were big and round, and he shook his head in amazement, as if the climb up these stairs was an awesome feat that could drain a man's will and strength.

"Kelden," Zagrin panted, with a nod. "Up a bit early, aren't you?" He wiped his forehead with his sleeve and added, "Whew! Quite a climb up from the History Chamber. And still quite a distance to go! I'm looking for my link. That wretched Gargetch fiend was supposed to be in the library doing some research for me, but I'll bet he's napping somewhere on a heat vent--probably in some old storage room up in the Fire Hall. He hates research, and he's always trying to weasel out of it. "

Kelden shrugged, breathing shallowly because of Zagrin's sour stench and wondering why the law keeper chose not to bathe. "I'm just going to the Meditation Hall." For a moment, the last thing he felt like doing was explaining to Zagrin his situation, and he was about to move on. Then he remembered how brilliant this young law keeper was. Zagrin probably knew nearly as much about the laws of Valganleer as Salvensteed Laget did.

"I was summoned before the high council," Kelden said. "But I can't give out any details. They're not too happy with me right now." That was a ridiculous understatement, but he could think of no better way to say it.

Zagrin gave him a knowing grin, revealing dark-yellow teeth. "Ask for a Garn Abbane. It's your right, you know."

"A Garn what?" said Kelden.

"Garn Abbane." Zagrin cleared his throat. "Every student, teacher, or seer in Valganleer has the right to request a Garn Abbane after an appearance before the high council. The Thelaran keepers do a full probing on you. The results cannot be disputed. If you've been charged with any wrongdoing, you should always request one. Unless, of course, you're hiding something the high council missed and you don't want it revealed. A Garn Abbane leaves nothing hidden. I can assure you of that. Just remember, though, that it's up to the keepers whether or not they grant one."

Kelden nodded, feeling a spark of hope. "Thanks, Zagrin. I'll check into it."

Zagrin smiled. "You know, it worked good for Eblar Stoert two centuries ago. He was tried and convicted of perpetuating the worm plague by the bizarre nature of some of his experiments, and was sentenced to death. The high council seemed to have loads of evidence against him. But he requested a Garn Abbane and was found to be innocent of all wrongdoing. The council overturned his conviction and he went on to be a great tempest seer."

"Sounds like it really helped him," said Kelden, who usually answered the things Zagrin said with responses like nods, grunts of affirmation, phrases like, "Oh, really?" and "Wow, that's something," while he thought of ways to get away from him so he didn't have to stand and listen to things he had no real interest in.

"You bet it helped him!" Zagrin said enthusiastically. "And then there was Breelin Kagworth, who was charged with summoning a Blue World specter to Valganleer for the purpose of assassinating--"

"I better get going," Kelden interrupted, starting past him.

"Glad I could be of service," Zagrin said. He began his lumbering climb upward again with a sigh and a groan. "Long way up to the Fire Hall," he muttered back. "This old Legaran tower isn't small. Not in the least!"

Kelden continued his climb downward. The situation's grim realities were still trying to force their way into his thoughts, but now at least--thanks to Zagrin--he had something he could try that might put an end to this madness. He told himself that if the Garn Abbane proved he wasn't Credesar, he'd do something kindly in return for the law keeper--if only to sit and listen to a few of his stories. But one puzzling question invaded his mind. If the Garn Abbane was so effective, why hadn't the high council used it in the first place? He paused and turned, considering dashing up the stairs and asking Zagrin, but then he decided against it, so as not to get stuck listening to the law keeper's stories. He suspected his teacher would know the answer.

As Kelden descended to the next bridge, a bell chimed out a short, cheerful tune. A crowd of Ulden students and their links crossed in single file and headed up the stairs, on their way to the Goliat Hall for their morning break. These were some of Valganleer's elite--talented and snobbish. While Kelden was certainly talented--perhaps more so than most of these stuck up lads--his calling was not Ulden lore, and so to these students he was just another lowly swine. They glanced at each other and snickered as they stepped off the bridge, and as always, his response was to try to avoid eye contact with them. Their links were equally snobby Gargetch fiends--short, winged demons made of a dark and shiny element. In spite of being the most common and least powerful of the links, Gargetch fiends considered themselves superior to all other fiends--especially in intelligence, and so they made perfect companions to the Uldens.

Kelden went past two more bridges before reaching the Meditation Hall. The Ulden students stayed clear of this area. It was a dark and ancient tunnel, smelly--not like the bright rooms and passageways of the Ulden Hall. Yet to Kelden Delure, the Meditation Hall was comforting. He liked the dim, quiet tunnels and chambers, the ancient feel. He felt right at home here. And he liked the idea that Ulden students wouldn't be caught dead in this passageway.

There was no door, just a gaping tunnel mouth cut in the stone blocks. The walls, floor, and ceiling were bare. Torches were sparse, only burning outside the chamber entrances, leaving dark stretches between rooms. It looked like a passageway that led to abandoned chambers or old storage rooms, rather than a corridor where some of the greatest seers, teachers, and alchemists in the long history of Valganleer had learned to expand their minds.

And as with most areas of Valganleer, the reasons behind the nature of the Meditation Hall's design had become uncertain, with the magically recorded history from Valganleer's earliest days having grown unstable and diminished--a result not foreseen by the seers. Some of the old records had been updated, while others had slipped through the cracks and existed only in speculation and rumor. Because no sound record of its origin existed, strange and often ridiculous rumors about the Meditation Hall abounded, even amongst the most respected seers and teachers.

Kelden began the long walk down the gloomy passageway to confront his teacher, Lendrith Bramas. He'd always been one of Lendrith's favorite students, but he wondered what he was now to the old man. Surely his teacher couldn't look upon him in the same light, and Kelden dreaded the possibilities, imaging the deep scorn or pity that might be directed his way. They certainly weren't going to discuss blood lore theories and practices or what upcoming lessons might entail.

Kelden paused, desperately not wanting to continue. But he had no choice. If he was indeed Jarvin's link--the foul demon Credesar--he needed whatever advice or items Lendrith could give him to survive the journey to Frindagan Tower.

He forced his legs to carry him onward. Fortunately, the tunnel was deserted. Grim thoughts sought to break through his defenses--images of blood, of something dark lying deep inside him waiting to claw its way free. The questions kept repeating in his mind: Am I Jarvin's link? Am I Credesar? Why this, of all things?

A Hetheope guard stepped from a niche in the wall and stood facing Kelden, towering over him. Kelden froze, for if he dared move, the Hetheope would take issue and demand he submit to a more thorough search. Kelden was in no mood for such a confrontation, yet he had no choice but to appease the creature. Dozens of these guards patrolled Valganleer at any given hour. They had been created by the alchemists, given massive size and natural weaponry in the form of tusks and claws. They were designed to intimidate students, and they did their job well. Even after two years, Kelden had to suppress a shudder whenever he came face to face with one.

"I have to meet with Master Lendrith," said Kelden. "In the Low Room."

The Hetheope did not speak--they never did--but it motioned Kelden on and stepped back into the shadows. Yet its gleaming eyes continued to watch Kelden as he hurried onward, and he knew the Hetheope would follow along. They were single- minded in their duties and relentless.

When Kelden reached the Low Room, he followed a short stone stairway down to an iron door. It looked like a dungeon door, with a barred window and sizable lock, but this was just for show. The door was never locked, because nothing of value lay within. This was strictly a meditation chamber, with the dungeon-like door having some vague connection with cutting oneself off from the outside world for the purpose of inspiring an isolated feeling. It was a chamber that no one used anymore, a leftover relic from the days when training methods were less refined.

Kelden peered through the window bars. He could see Master Lendrith sitting on a bench, a leather pack at his feet. The old man looked haggard in the morning light, but not defeated. His wrinkled hands were folded over his stomach, as if trying to hold his anxieties in check. His shaggy grey hair stuck out in all directions, and he was unshaven, his face a maze of countless lines, wrinkles, and other aging blemishes. Like many teachers that never became seers, he lacked the power to maintain his youth, having been unable--or perhaps unwilling--to push himself to greater levels, and he would eventually perish from the hazards of old age. His face constantly bore a thoughtful expression, as if he were always pondering something. His eyes were closed, two leathery shades pulled down.

With a trembling hand, Kelden drew the door open. Shoring up his will, he stepped inside. The Low Room, which was lined with thick wooden benches, was a strange and ugly chamber. The ceiling was aggressive toward the mind and eye, the stone blocks forming a swirl pattern that seemed to draw in the viewer--an architectural design that gave Kelden the disturbing impression it was trying to pull his soul out through his head. The floor was inexplicably uneven, with absurd high and low spots, but overall it seemed to be spiraling downward toward the center. The walls had been enhanced by the motion sorcery of old lore, with the dark stone blocks endlessly appearing to be tumbling downward like a lumpy waterfall. It was an unpleasant, oozing downward flow of bricks that could make one sick to the stomach after a while.

Carefully watching his footing on the uneven floor, Kelden started toward Master Lendrith. He took an unexpected step downward. His heart lurched and he had the sensation of falling. He took another step and moved upward. Foolishly, he glanced at the ceiling and got ill, waves of dizziness washing over him. He grabbed a bench for support, and took a careful step down.

He used the benches to help him along, until he stood before his teacher. Lendrith didn't move. Kelden cleared his throat, but still Lendrith failed to acknowledge his presence. Kelden sighed loudly.

Then Kelden's heart went cold. Master Lendrith wasn't moving at all--not even breathing, apparently. And his head was tilted back at an odd angle. For an instant Kelden was certain his teacher was dead, that some huge conspiracy was unfolding before his eyes that would inevitably lead to his own doom.

But Lendrith suddenly opened his eyes and tilted his head forward, blinking. "Kelden Delure," he mumbled. "How are you, boy?"

Kelden said nothing.

Lendrith smiled humorlessly. "Just a way to break the ice, I suppose. I know how you're doing--or I suspect I do. A thousand dark forebodings must be haunting your mind."

Kelden nodded, relief flooding through him. How could he have doubted Master Lendrith? Lendrith was far too wise and open-minded to shun Kelden so easily. He shared a deep bond with his students, and whether Jarvin's link or not, Kelden was first and foremost still a blood lore student to the old man.

"Could it be true, Master?" said Kelden. "Could I actually be Credesar?"

"I was told that if you showed up here," said Lendrith, "the proof had been revealed that the demon lurks within you. And if you didn't, I could expect to see you with my other students tonight. I've been waiting for over two hours now, and I can tell you my soul has been on fire. I haven't felt like this since the love of my life left me for another man, way back when I was still a student. You just feel like your mortal flesh isn't designed to house such stress. And the fact that they picked this room doesn't help matters. There is no peace of mind here, in this arcane chamber. I think they chose this room because it has a sense of finality about it, of detachment.

"Regardless, I must now face facts courageously. If the high council tested you, their results are most likely the truth. But does that mean you're not Kelden Delure? You're still one of my most talented students. You're still who you always were. If there is a monster inside you, I believe it is not you!"

"I don't know what to think," said Kelden. His words sounded weak, but he could do nothing about it. "The way they did things wasn't fair," he added. "Even if I get through this, people won't accept me here. The seers have ruined my life."

"Don't give up hope so easily," said Lendrith. "Time heals all wounds, and time within Valganleer passes slowly indeed."

Unable to think of a proper response, Kelden simply nodded.

"Where is Theodus?" said Lendrith, raising an eyebrow.

Kelden explained what had happened.

Lendrith stood up. "Taken for a cleansing? I must say, that's quite unusual!" He took to pacing, and Kelden wondered how he could walk about so easily in that room without losing his balance. "Something isn't right, here, Kelden. I just know it in my heart! Things have been getting strange in this tower over the past few years, with all sorts of dark rumors floating about. And now this!"

"What do you mean?" said Kelden.

"I don't know," said Lendrith. He sighed and sat back down. "Maybe I'm just indulging in wishful thinking."

Kelden looked away.

"I want to help you, boy!" Lendrith said, pounding his fist against his palm. "But time is so short, I fear there is nothing I can do."

Kelden nodded. "There's nothing either of us can do, Master. I have to be past the West Gate before nightfall. But I'd like to request a Garn Abbane before I go. I guess it's like a second opinion from the Thelaran keepers."

"That's an excellent idea!" said Lendrith, standing up again. "I should have thought of that myself. A Garn Abbane is the only sure way of knowing the truth, and its revelations cannot be disputed."

"Then why isn't it used more often?" said Kelden.

"The danger is extreme," Lendrith said. "Not to you--but to the keepers themselves. Often one or more of them will crystallize during the process. It's a horrible fate, for their brains become...well...turned to crystal if you can imagine that! The energy expenditure is massive and somehow can cause a physical change right inside their skulls. Kills them instantly, with no hope of healing."

"Maybe I shouldn't ask for it, then," said Kelden. "I don't anyone to die on my account."

They fell silent. The flow of bricks in the walls stopped temporarily while the sorcery replenished itself, and then started up again. The two glanced at each other, and then Kelden lowered his gaze. The tension between them was a strange sort, born of an extreme situation. The two had always been somewhat close, but Lendrith was a professional and knew how to maintain a student-teacher relationship. He'd always been Kelden's friend but never his peer. Now things were different. They seemed on equal ground, uncertain partners facing the unknown. Kelden didn't like the feeling at all, and he was sure his teacher wasn't happy with it.

"Yet it's your right," said Lendrith. "The keepers know the risks. The only thing I'm wondering is if they will refuse you in light of the circumstances. A Garn Abbane performed on you might be too dangerous. If Credesar were released during the process, there would be no way to contain him. And as I've come to understand, the keepers already refused a request by the high council to perform one on you. It's unlikely they will change their minds."

"I guess I should forget about that," said Kelden. "Maybe the only thing to do is what the council wants--pack up and leave."

Lendrith rubbed his temples, his face furrowed in a mass of lines. At last he said, "I disagree. You have nothing to lose by requesting one, and everything to gain. All the Keepers can do is say no. Thelaran's Hall lies just below. I think you should head down there and try your luck. Go now--for your time is quite limited." He sat down, folded his hands in his lap, and bowed his head. "I'll wait for you here."

***

Thelaran's Hall was almost more than Kelden's senses could bear. Thelaran's fire had been cast into every brick, torch, painting, and archway; a sorcery that drew upon ghostly energies--shades of those who had died in Valganleer and whose power remained strong. In essence, Thelaran's Hall was thoroughly haunted. The keepers wanted it that way for reasons known only to them. The speculation was that it somehow strengthened their minds and kept unwelcome intruders away.

Kelden paused before a stone archway inscribed with blue, gleaming runes. He had no idea what to expect here as he peered into the darkness, for this was his first visit. Just inside the tunnel mouth, two torches burned with a pale, bluish flame that reminded Kelden of the color of a corpse's flesh. Two more torches stood at the hall's end, leaving the long middle stretch of tunnel lost in shadows.

Kelden could feel something like invisible hands pushing against him, warding him away. The fear that seized him stripped away any of his lingering horror over the thought that he might be the demon Credesar. It reached deep inside him and reassured him he was mortal--whether he wanted to believe it or not. He was mortal because he was afraid, because the power around him fed off his fear. Jarvin's link or not, Kelden couldn't deny the mortal weakness of his terror.

To shield his mind against the energies, Kelden called on the sorcery that flowed with his blood. His fear didn't yield to the magic, though, and his power became dark and enraged, lashing out against the forces that sought to invade Kelden. Stung by the bitterness of his will, the ghostly energies shrank back. But it was a temporary victory, for they soon regrouped and came at him again.

Kelden choked off his power and, with sheer determination alone, forced himself to move down the tunnel. He was appalled at what he had to endure just to visit Thelaran's Hall, and he gained a better understanding of why so little was known about it. The stone walls seemed to close in around him, and a hideous shifting lurked within those walls, a groaning of living flesh. Dead faces appeared--so briefly he could barely glimpse them, while shadowy hands groped for him. Dark images like hourglasses being turned, and blood pouring down the walls, kept his eyes darting this way and that. Insects and animals--really just bits of darkness--scuttled here and there at the corners of his vision. All the while, the energies tried ever harder to burrow into his being and strangle him with his own fears. They had been summoned here for that grim purpose--willing shades that fed off the emotions of the living.

Two Hetheope guards--apparently immune to the dark forces around them--stepped from the shadows and stood facing Kelden.

"I'm here to request a Garn Abbane," Kelden said quickly and sternly.

The Hetheopes glanced at each other, and one left the hall. Kelden waited in tortured silence. The ghostly energies closed in around him with renewed aggression. It was like being pestered by a swarm of biting insects. Again he summoned his power and drove the grim forces back, but the Hetheope, sensing the use of a type of sorcery not native to the hall, became agitated and stepped closer to him.

"The energies here bother me," Kelden explained.

The Hetheope made no further movement, which indicated it understood. Moments later, the other guard returned and motioned Kelden to leave the hall.

His final hope dashed, Kelden turned and started back. The Hetheopes were never to be questioned or challenged by students. But as he neared the entrance, a group of Thelaran keepers--those who had been in the Sky Chamber while Kelden underwent his test--entered and stood facing him. They drew their daggers and pressed them against their chests, but they did not use Thelaran's gaze upon him. Their leader, an ancient and tall woman named Glendissa Lorragol, whispered something to her holder (or second in command), whose name was Sadin Vayence. Then Glendissa stepped forward, a defiant look on her face.

"Why have you come here?" she said.

"I seek a Garn Abbane," Kelden answered.

She hissed, a sound that made Kelden recoil. The yellow skin of her face was so dense with wrinkles and lines she barely looked human. Her silver hair, however, was done up neatly, contrasting her ancient face. Like all the Thelaran Keepers, her robe was plain, her belt a bit of common rope.

"How dare you?" she whispered. "How could you ask such a thing of us? I know that on the surface you are just an unfortunate boy--yet underneath, you hear my words, Credesar. You know our lord Thelaran ever seeks vengeance against you, that even now he is plotting your destruction and the ruin of your master's plans."

Not knowing what to say, Kelden listened silently as she spat her words at him. His only interest now was getting out of this hall alive, for the keepers looked as if they wanted to destroy him. The Hetheope guards moved into position behind him, standing side by side, their sour breath filling his nostrils.

Glendissa bowed her head. "That needed to be said. Now, Kelden Delure, why have you requested a Garn Abbane?"

He struggled for a moment to find his voice, and then said, "I'm hoping it might prove the high council wrong."

Glendissa shook her head sadly. "That is not possible, young one. The test proved beyond a doubt that you are Credesar. We saw you change form, and we felt the power and evil you possess. You are Jarvin's link."

Kelden kept silent, having nothing to add.

"But," Glendissa said, "if you truly want a Garn Abbane, we have no choice but to honor your request. Our lord Thelaran spoke to me before the dawn and commanded that a Garn Abbane be given should you ask for it. So in spite of all the dangers, we cannot refuse you. The high council would be strongly opposed to this--having already conducted their own test--but we Keepers have our own laws that transcend those of Valganleer. I was hoping you wouldn't ask this of us, but I see that it must come to pass, regardless of the consequences."

The other keepers bowed their heads, their faces grim. Glendissa started forward, and motioned the Hetheopes aside. The bull men glanced at each other in silent communication, and then slowly parted. One of them exited the hall.

The keepers followed Glendissa. Kelden hesitated for a moment, and then took after them. He realized the Thelaran Keepers were--and probably always would be--far beyond his comprehension.

They walked to the end of the hall, where two more Hetheopes guarded a large iron door with words inscribed in it that Kelden couldn't read because they were written in a language known only to the keepers. Glendissa placed her hands on the door and spoke quietly. It opened inward, and flickering blue light bathed the hallway--a light like that emitted by the torches only far more cold and piercing. A sudden barrage of emotions arose within Kelden, with the main one being dread over something he couldn't quite comprehend. It wasn't the spirits of Thelaran's Hall, for they had seemed to diminish when the keepers arrived. It was something triggered by the sight of that glow, an awakening of memories he couldn't quite fathom. Fragments of pain, rage, and triumph swirled through his thoughts like leaves in the wind. He was vaguely aware that the keepers were glaring at him with hatred.

Kelden's mind screamed for him to turn and flee. But he managed to steady himself, overcome by a need that overruled everything else--the need to know if he was indeed Credesar. The keepers seemed to have already made up their minds, but Kelden thought back to Zagrin Tarless' words, of how others before him had been found innocent by a Garn Abbane despite seemingly overwhelming evidence.

Clinging desperately to that thought, he walked through the doorway and into the Chamber of Willful Fire. His feet seemed to weigh a hundred pounds each, and all the strength seemed gone from his legs.

Kelden's skin turned ghastly pale as he beheld the sights before him. Everywhere he looked his vision was overcast with strange and repulsive images that attacked his mind. He stood in a round room with a domed ceiling. Hanging above him, suspended by chains, were gruesome lumps of writhing matter. In a barren corner, a few of these hanging things had been pierced by hooks, and they leaked molten flame into steel caldrons. The lumps were varying shades of dark color, very rocky looking, and would have seemed like dead material to Kelden had they not pulsated and twisted on their chains. It was like watching living, oozing crags of stone that somehow seemed to be suffering. Female faces were amassed upon the walls, all bearing looks of extreme emotion--from agony to hatred to rage. The faces seemed to be made of rugged metal, and though they did not move, they were extremely lifelike. The chamber floor was stained red by blood (or something designed to resemble blood) that had run down from a huge stone altar that stood at the room's center, and upon the altar was a bronze statue of a girl, a dagger embedded in her heart. Four pillars, carved in the shape of women, stood at the altar's corners, with cryptic runes glowing blue upon them. The runes formed serpents winding up around the pillars. Standing behind the altar, and towering well above it, was a massive statue of a man in a plain robe like the keepers wore. His face was smooth and young looking, his bald head split by a rugged scar that left one eye blinded. One of his outstretched hands held a silver torch that burned with a blue flame. The torch alone was as large as Kelden. In his other hand he held a sculpture of a human heart.

And most people think blood lore is strange and foul? Kelden thought in disbelief. Some of the sights in this room--especially the writhing things above him--were more repulsive than anything he'd ever witnessed in Valganleer. It made his calling seem friendly and mellow in comparison.

Glendissa gazed at him contemptuously. "Are you disgusted by what you see, Kelden Delure?"

Kelden nodded, but could not yet bring himself to speak. Nor did he look at her, for his gaze was too busy wandering to every corner of the room.

"Your eyes are deceived," she said. "You are a fool, because you only look at the surface of things. What you see as repugnant the Thelaran keepers see as beautiful and honorable. It is your calling which is repulsive, for it is rooted deep in the past--back to the age of the false gods and the demon who exists within you. Blood lore is a disgrace to Valganleer and should have been abolished long ago"

Kelden wondered how anything---even something created by the false gods themselves--could be more horrible than this. He glanced up and shuddered, for one of the squirming rock things seemed to have taken an interest in him and was wiggling furiously just above him as if trying to reach him.

"Though it matters little," Glendissa said, "I will explain your surroundings to you so that you will know we are not aligned with evil. This chamber is about the sacrifice of the keepers, in honor of our lord Thelaran. The sculptures around you show the pain we endured for centuries--pain and loss beyond anything you can imagine. After the breaking of the world, when all that humanity had worked so hard for fell victim to the Halstarion worms, women were nothing more than slaves. With the rise of the false gods, the situation became unbearable. We were treated as if we had no minds, no souls--creatures fit only to serve the needs of men. But Thelaran changed our situation. He became our champion. When the false gods were finally banished to the Shifting, and the Legaran towers rose from the ashes of a dead world, it was Thelaran who gave us access to the ways of sorcery. Of the three blessed ones--Thelaran, Corsayan, and Legaran--Thelaran is the only one we feel the need to honor. He sacrificed the years of his life for us, and the images you see in this chamber represent what we would sacrifice for him in return if he asked it of us--our very lives."

Kelden nodded his understanding, and then pointed to the thing that was still flailing about on its chain above him. "What about those?"

Glendissa's face was stony. "Young Halstarion worms, Kelden Delure. Still in their cocoons. Our power weakens their resolve and keeps them from hatching. We take their molten blood and give it to the alchemists, who are seeking a rare substance that may provide protection against their bite. It is a very necessary horror."

Kelden took a step back, his mouth gaping open. Worms, right here in this room? Of all the dangers Kelden had ever heard of, worms were the most extreme. They shared many of the properties of ghosts--being transparent and able to pass through solid objects once they hatched into fully developed predators--and yet they could inflict harm upon a living entity. They left a circular bite in their victim's tissue, through which they drained massive chunks of life force, memory, and most importantly, will. They drained the will to live, and without that will, no one could survive for long. Their bite was almost always fatal. The worms had plagued the lands of Americk Dreeth for over three-thousand years. They had single-handedly destroyed the mighty, technologically-advanced Halstarion empire, reducing humanity to a relatively primitive state. The seers had managed to trace their birthplace to a demolished, enormous factory in the Tembros lands, where machines still labored amid the ruins. Exactly what knowledge the seers discovered there was sealed away forever, being deemed too evil and abhorrent for even the greenstone records of the Legaran towers to record. Instead, this knowledge had been recorded in the sealed records of a remote tower called Geltch, locked away in the most secure vault ever created.

The worms were the product of an unimaginable evil--creatures that had brought down a civilization that had ruled land, sea, and sky. The Halstarions had been highly evolved, dwelling in floating cities and traveling amid the stars. But the worms--their own creations--had torn their empire to shreds. The worms were the ultimate menace, and there were several of them--babies, but still terror inducing--squirming around in their cocoons right over Kelden's head.

"Fear not," Glendissa said, raising a gnarled hand. "They can never escape their bindings. Not in this chamber, where Thelaran's will overpowers their minds and gives them no hope of hatching until their blood is drained and they have withered beyond salvation."

Kelden swallowed, and the nodded. "The Garn Abbane?" he whispered, wanting to get it over with and get out of Thelaran's Hall as quickly as possible.

Glendissa nodded. "Yes, and then you will have no choice but to believe what we already know. You will then leave this tower and never return until Credesar is utterly destroyed. Go and place your hands upon the altar."

Numbly, Kelden did as she ordered. The keepers gathered in a half circle behind him and whispered strange words.

"This will not take long," Glendissa said. "I do not believe this ritual will summon Credesar, for it will not inspire his rage. But if it does, we will die carrying out our lord Thelaran's wishes. Do not gaze upon us, Kelden Delure. Death could take any one of us in an instant, but that is no concern of yours. Keep your eyes on the willful fire--Thelaran's torch--and look nowhere else. Now let us begin."

Kelden waited. He was trembling so much he could hardly keep his hands on the altar, wondering what awaited him. After his ordeal in the Sky Chamber, he felt anything could happen. Several moments passed, and then Thelaran's torch seemed to burn brighter. He heard a collective gasp from the keepers but did not break his vision from the icy blue flame. His tension reached an almost unbearable pitch, but still nothing much seemed to occur, save for a few mutterings and whisperings amongst the group. Then finally the torch dimmed slightly.

"That is all," Glendissa said.

"What?" Kelden slowly turned towards her, the tension draining from him and leaving him feeling utterly exhausted. "That's it?"

She nodded. The other keepers had their heads bowed. "I told you it would not take long. The truth has been revealed."

"What truth?" Kelden shook his head. "I saw nothing!"

"Of course," she said. "Thelaran speaks only to us, for we are his servants. He told us that you are indeed Credesar."

"But..." Kelden again shook his head. "How do I know this?"

Her face contorted with anger. "You know because the keepers do not lie! You are Credesar, the evil Paltos fiend--a demon bound in a body made from the great elements. It cannot be disputed!"

Kelden nearly sat down on the floor, so overwhelming was his disappointment. His legs simply threatened to buckle.

Her expression softened. "That is the bad news."

"You mean there is good news of some sort?" Kelden asked, daring not to hope even as he spoke the words.

"Not exactly," she said. "But there are questions that need answering. We were shown an image of you in your other form--the form of Credesar. We were also shown an image of a man sentenced to death by the high council, who even now hangs from the West Gate awaiting nightfall, when the worms shall come and devour his life. This man is accused of drawing energy from Blue World--the ultimate betrayal against the Legaran laws. Our own Garn Abbane confirmed his guilt. We were shown a vision of you traveling with him--as well as with a man possessing terrible power who dwells somewhere under stone. And there is a woman whose sorcery exceeds our own, who cares nothing for Thelaran or his laws. She is an anomaly, a mutation never before seen in this world. And there were others, just shadows that we could not view in detail beyond their intent, surrounding you on all sides--some seeking to help you, and some seeking your downfall.

"We also saw that we are blinded in some fashion, that a great truth lies before us--perhaps right under our noses--which we will not allow ourselves to see. We have disgraced ourselves before our lord Thelaran in a way we do not yet understand. His words to us were a warning to uncover our eyes to the evil or perish by its dark hand.

"And finally, Kelden Delure, we saw that you have the potential for great destruction--that you could bring Americk Dreeth to ruin and send many to their doom before all is said and done. Jarvin's will is bent upon merging Blue World with our own world and creating a massive realm known as Ember--the ancient and relentless goal of the false gods. If Credesar emerges and serves Jarvin again as his link, the two beings will be very difficult to defeat--just like in the past. It will mean pure disaster for our land of Americk Dreeth."

Of all she said, Kelden clung to her statement that the Keepers had been fooled in some way--for therein lay the seeds of hope.

"I have told you everything," she said. "Now go and prepare for your journey. You seek hope, Kelden Delure--and the high council gave you exactly that. Go to Frindagan Tower and put an end to Credesar. Only then will you be free to live your life."

Kelden nodded, but did not hear her. His mind was focused entirely on discovering just how the all-seeing Thelaran keepers had been fooled and why it had been important enough to provoke a warning from their ancient lord.

### Chapter 3: The Condemned One

Thayan Rommel wasn't ready to die. As he'd lain battered and bloody on the cold stone floor all night, he'd tried to convince himself death was an escape and should be welcomed. But he'd failed. His death was to come by worm bite, and that fact was too horrible for his mind to accept.

As the lock of his dungeon door clicked open, panic and rage gripped his heart. "Filthy wretches!" he yelled. "How can they do this to me?"

They could do it to him because he couldn't stop them. Thayan was beginning to understand that life was all about power, and everything else was just wishful thinking. Power was all that mattered, and at the moment, he had none of it. On the other hand, the seers were in command of his very existence.

The heavy iron door was wrenched open, and a seer and a Hetheope guard strode into the cell. The seer was a young, smug master of Ulden lore named Harranstod, and he gazed down at Thayan with concern and disdain.

"Thayan Rommel," Harranstod said. "Your death sentence is to be carried out immediately. You will not be allowed breakfast. Today you will go hungry."

"Go crawl into a furnace," Thayan muttered. His long black hair hung over his face, concealing the hatred burning in his eyes. He pushed that hair aside so Harranstod could see his expression, along with the cuts and bruises on his swollen face.

The seer ignored him. "I've been instructed to repeat our judgment against you, so you fully understand why you are being punished."

"I've heard it already," said Thayan. "Just shut up and get on with it."

"You've called upon the dreadful forces of Blue World," the seer went on. "You knowingly broke one of the most sacred laws of Valganleer Tower. You showed total disregard for all that Valganleer represents. Therefore, you must die in the worst way possible--by being fed to the worms and having your life-force...having your life-force...drained away." Harranstod lowered his gaze. "It wasn't my decision, Thayan. As lord of the high council, Vangoss decided your punishment."

"You're all in it together," Thayan said. "You seers are all the same. If you had any decency, you'd let me escape."

For a moment Harranstod seemed to be considering the notion, and Thayan's heart pounded harder. Was there a chance he'd be let go?

Then Harranstod stood up straighter and smoothed out his cloak. "I obey the tower laws, Thayan. That's why I'm a seer. I was sent here to carry out your punishment, and that's exactly what will happen."

"Look at my face," said Thayan. "Does any man deserve to be treated this way? You call this justice?"

Harranstod fidgeted uncomfortably. "I'm not sure whose order it was to have you beaten in such a barbaric fashion. But it certainly wasn't mine. While I don't agree with all the laws of Valganleer, I'm compelled to honor them. You were a good student, Thayan. You had a lot of promise. I'm pained to see it end so badly."

"I'll bet," said Thayan, rolling his eyes. "You have your whole life ahead you, indulging in the comforts of this tower. Meanwhile, I'll be dead and forgotten."

Harranstod sighed. "You won't be forgotten, Thayan." It was a ridiculous statement even for one as clueless as this young seer.

Thayan laughed bitterly. "Right, I'm sure everyone will remember the poor sod that screwed up and got fed to the worms. I'm sure the name Thayan will ring through the halls of Valganleer for decades to come."

Harranstod winced. "You're angry. I understand. But I assure you there is nothing I can do. I'm just here to escort you to the West Gate."

"Just following orders, huh?" said Thayan. "Great excuse. But if it allows you to sleep better at night, I guess it does the job."

Harranstod shook his head in pity and disgust. "This is all your fault, Thayan. You brought this doom upon yourself. You cannot guilt me into helping you escape a fate you created. I didn't come here for this. I came to carry out an order."

Thayan wracked his brain for some means of persuading the seer. The guilt trip was quickly failing. "You could be a hero, Harranstod!"

"No, I couldn't," said Harranstod. "Because were I to break tower law, the guilt would be far worse."

"Swine!" Thayan growled, losing all control. "I hope the worms find you and suck your tiny brain out of your skull!"

Harranstod sighed again, and nodded to the Hetheope guard. "I've heard more than enough. Bring him."

The Hetheope swiped up Thayan. As Thayan was bounced roughly along, every muscle in his body screamed in pain. He'd been locked up for three days here, in the Hall of Justice in stone caverns beneath Valganleer Tower, and every day he'd been beaten by the same guard who now carried him to his death. He closed his eyes, wishing he could teleport far away--to anywhere else. Dimly he thought of trying to escape, but he knew it was an absurd notion. The bull man was far too strong to break away from, and Thayan was too weak to possibly even walk, let alone run.

Nothing would stop this brutal act. He was going to die in the worst way known to humankind--the same way his sister had died. How could the seers be so cruel as to inflict such a terrible punishment on a human being? The thought of it made his hatred for them smolder white hot. Somehow, they had to pay dearly for this act. But since he would be dead and gone, his rage was useless.

Thayan wasn't sure exactly how long he was carried through the tower--half an hour, maybe--because he kept his eyes closed while his mind desperately sought a means of escape. He went over everything that had led him to this point, but the only thing that could save him was intervention by Vangoss or another high council member--and he knew that wasn't going to happen.

At last he heard a loud grating of stone, and cold rain and wind pelted his face. He opened his eyes to a stormy day that was almost as dark as night. Lightning flashed off the cliffs that surrounded Valganleer Tower. The only sign of life was a few huge, crooked pines that grew at the base of the rocks. Otherwise, nothing greeted his vision but barren, craggy cliffs beneath the storm. It was the perfect place for a lonely death.

Thayan was carried to the huge West Gate and shoved against the thick iron bars, so that Harranstod could hold a final conversation with him and record his last words. He could feel the cold, wet metal pressed hard into his back, and he realized he would be feeling that sensation right up until his death.

"Any final thoughts?" Harranstod asked, his voice a near shout to be heard over the storm. He produced a small greenstone book, his hand shaking as he held it up. He activated it by touching symbols of sorcery inscribed on the cover. "I should have asked you back in the dungeon, but I was distracted by your pleas and I forgot. Whatever you say will be recorded in the greenstone records in keeping with our ancient laws. Any protest you utter to this punishment may be used as a reference for determining future punishments. I ask that you speak quickly, for the rain is cold."

"I have only one thing to say," Thayan groaned, seeing another chance at persuasion. "Let me go. No one will know. They'll think the worms took me. You can't do this to me. It was a mistake!"

"Perhaps," said Harranstod, looking away. "But some mistakes are unforgivable. You used a Blue World device to summon a spirit."

"I summoned my sister," Thayan pleaded. "She was killed by a worm. I thought it had taken her soul, and I wanted to make sure she still existed." He thought back how, when he activated the Blue World device called a grave mend, his sister's shade had appeared so swiftly to him. She'd spoken soothingly, letting him know that all was well with her. For several days after that, Thayan was as happy as he'd ever been--until his crime was discovered and he was given a quick trial in the Sky Chamber.

"You stole that grave mend from a forbidden chamber," said Harranstod, "and used it for personal gain."

"I heard rumors that worms destroy a person's soul," said Thayan. "I needed to make sure she lived on in the hereafter. You must understand! It was some type of obsession with me, something I couldn't control."

Harranstod seemed to falter and looked away. "I'm sorry," he said bitterly, rain dripping from his face. "I understand your reason, but our laws still must be obeyed. And it's not my decision. I already told you that!"

"What if the worms do devour souls?" Thayan yelled at him. "Is any crime worth such a punishment as being erased from existence?"

"There is no such proof that worms do that," said Harranstod, but his body was trembling visibly from more than just the cold rain and he refused to look Thayan in the eye.

"But the seers have debated it!" Thayan pushed on desperately.

"No conclusive proof was found that a soul can be absorbed that way," said Harranstod. "The seers concluded that souls and spiritual entities are indestructible. And besides, your sister's shade appeared to you, so there's your proof, of sorts. Now I refuse to stand here and argue about unknowns with a condemned prisoner!"

"But she wasn't completely devoured," said Thayan, his voice becoming shrill like the wind. "She was bitten deeply and died later." He knew it was a weak argument but it was all he had at that point.

"Enough!" Harranstod shouted. "You must be punished. What happens after death is beyond the knowledge of the living."

The seer motioned to the Hetheope and then turned away, clutching his head. Thayan thought that Harranstod might be weeping, but there was no way to tell. The monstrous guard again lifted Thayan, and clamped a smelly hand over his mouth. The gate opened to allow them out, with a loud groaning and creaking of iron, and then they were on the other side.

"This is the end for you, Thayan," Harranstod said. His face was hardened beneath his low-hanging hood. "May your soul find peace--even if it's in the belly of a worm!"

At the seer's signal, the Hetheope lifted Thayan up to where some leg and wrist cuffs were welded to the bars. The Hetheope snapped the cuffs closed around Thayan's wrists and ankles. Then the seer and the bull man passed back through the gate, while Thayan hung suspended and rode along like a puppet as the iron bars opened and closed by some unseen method. He was left alone in the storm.

Thayan gazed down at the road that vanished between the cliffs, barely seeing anything through the slashing rain. He still clung to life, but hope had seemingly escaped his grasp. The worms would come soon enough to devour his energy and memories and leave him a dried out husk. The storm would not conceal him from the predators. Every night, the worms swarmed into the area, destroying any animal life not hidden from them and seeking to pierce the magical barrier that protected Valganleer Tower. Thayan might last a day or two more if they somehow didn't catch sight of him--but they would eventually sniff him out.

This was justice? He licked rain from his lips. "It was just a mistake," he whispered. "A bad one. But...I don't deserve this." His words were shattered by the wind and a sudden burst of thunder as if the gods were silencing him.

"Help me, Lorelda!" he begged. But without the assistance of the grave mend, his sister's shade did not come this time. Thayan wondered if he would see her again when he was dead. She had meant everything to him, and when the worm took her essence and left her as a wasted shell, Thayan had spent months in a suicidal depression.

Now he would share her fate. The irony of it was sickening, considering that after her demise he had vowed that no worm would ever claim him.

Frantically he searched his mind for anything that could save him, but he'd already tried every possible thing there was to try. He'd thrown himself at the mercy of the seers, had begged to simply be ousted from Valganleer, or even tortured and imprisoned. But the seers were bound by their ancient laws, and when Vangoss ordered Thayan's death sentence, not a protest was uttered. Thayan requested a Garn Abbane, but that had done nothing to help him. He was guilty as charged. The Thelaran keepers had told him he would meet his destiny at the West Gate, that a journey into ruin lay ahead of him that would cost him his soul.

"So I'm going to end up in misery?" he'd asked Glendissa.

She answered calmly that he most definitely would. Misery beyond his imagination awaited him, and there was no way he could avoid it. He'd tinkered with the forces of Blue World, and his course in life had been forever changed.

"There is nothing I can do to change it?" Thayan pleaded.

"All you can do is flow with it," she answered, "and accept your fate. Remember these keys--trust, loyalty, and courage. That is all I can tell you." Then Glendissa had done something strange to him--grasping the flesh of his arms with her claw-like hands and burning them. He'd screamed in pain and passed out. He did not know what she'd done to him, and when he awoke he was in some cold dungeon in the depths of Valganleer.

"This is my journey into ruin," Thayan whispered into the wind. "It begins here at the West Gate, and it will lead me to misery. Undoubtedly, a misery found in the belly of a worm!" He shuddered, and hot pain flared through his muscles.

But as the hours wore on, Thayan's mind roamed back to his former life. He'd been a fine Ulden student, consistently earning praise over his four years at Valganleer. He'd not blended in well with his peers because they found him to be a bit on the dark side, but his teachers--the only ones that mattered in the long run--had loved his work ethic and talent. He'd been well on his way to becoming a great sorcerer and having a long, rewarding life.

But in the end, a single thoughtless act had undone everything. It partially comforted him to know that his sister's spirit lived on, and she'd seemed happy enough. However, the Thelaran keepers had made it clear that because he'd dabbled with the forces of Blue World he would not be going where his sister was--and he realized he would probably never see her again. His use of the grave mend had not, in the least, been worth it, and he regretted it to the deepest core of his being.

Thayan thought of his former friends, who were either studying at this time or joking around in the Goliat Hall--the space in Valganleer reserved for dining and recreation. Perhaps they were enjoying hot stew and biscuits--or some other delicious food. Only three days had passed since he'd been amongst them, but it all seemed so distant now, so far beyond his grasp.

Thayan had the urge to bite his lip, to pierce a growing numbness that was settling over him and make sure he was still alive. But he let it pass. The numbness didn't matter. It was perhaps even a good thing. He could only gaze into the storm now and wait for the worms. Somehow, he thought he could feel them drawing closer, their luminous bodies twisting as they soared amongst the cliffs in search of living energy.

Having nothing else left, Thayan whispered his promise into the storm--to gods that he wasn't sure existed or even cared. "Somehow," he promised, "I will live through this. I will walk a road that no one has imagined, and do deeds that will change the fate of Americk Dreeth. I will not find ruin, but triumph! Somehow, this will all come to pass and justice will be served. The seers will pay dearly for what they've done!"

As he spoke, Thayan felt a hidden strength swell within him. He faced the storm without flinching, daring the forces of the universe to dispute his words. It was in divine hands now whether those words would become truth.

And in that moment, Thayan could feel something change, as if the hands of fate were suddenly at work--as if his promise had been heard. The wind shifted, and the rustling of his tattered cloak filled his ears. Something seemed different for an instant, but he wasn't sure what. Chills flooded along his spine, like tiny fingers caressing his flesh.

Thayan tried to remain defiant, but as time wore on, his will weakened once again, and he bowed his head. The gods would not help him--whether they existed or not. He was nothing to them. His challenge to them was ridiculous and no doubt had provided them with a good laugh. It seemed there was only himself, the storm, and the approaching worms.

### Chapter 4: Departure

"I told you something was wrong about all this," Master Lendrith said. Kelden once again stood before him in the Low Room. "First Theodus' strange reaction to the high council's words, and now the Thelaran keepers saying they've been blinded somehow."

"But what can I do?" Kelden asked.

"The Garn Abbane proved you have Credesar inside you," said Lendrith, "regardless of anything else. The only hope you have is to go to Frindagan Tower and seek an end to the demon. I promise you I'll look into this matter while you're gone."

"Thank you," said Kelden. "I just want to..." Kelden let his words trail off, unsure of how to say them.

Lendrith nodded. "I understand, but save your thanks until I've done something to earn it."

"You're a great teacher," Kelden said. "Valganleer's best."

Lendrith's face reddened and he cleared his throat. "I appreciate that, my boy. And if it's any consolation, you're one of the most talented students I've ever taught blood lore to. It would be a shame indeed if I didn't get to finish molding you into a true master of our calling. Regardless, until Credesar is destroyed you can never return here."

But none of this is my fault! Kelden thought bitterly. He was being forced out of the safest, most comfortable home one could find on Americk Dreeth--sent into the vile wastelands that yawned like a hungry mouth waiting for human sustenance.

"I have some items for you," said Lendrith, handing him a pack. "In here you'll find a food maker and a water maker, a greenstone book to record your journey that also contains a map of the safest route to Frindagan, two vials of Ulsef blood, which can cure almost any known disease, a feeder torch that can be used as an effective weapon, and one very important blood potion of shielding."

Kelden was speechless with gratitude for a few moments. "How did you get a hold of all that?" he asked excitedly. "A food and water maker? Aren't those supposed to be only for the high council when they journey between towers?"

"The council is loaning you most of these items," said Lendrith. "They want you to survive, for they believe your death might free Credesar into the world. They don't really know for sure, but they certainly don't want to take any chances."

"Where did the blood potion of shielding come from?" asked Kelden. "Is it your own?" He knew that only a respected teacher of blood lore could possess such a potion--a reward for years of service in molding young minds. It made the user nearly invulnerable to sorcery and physical injury for a short time.

The old man nodded. "The only one I'll ever own, but I give it willingly. If you don't end up using it, though--I wouldn't mind having it back. I like to keep it with me when I journey between towers."

Kelden's optimism was stronger than at any point since the whole ordeal had begun. He believed his chances of survival had increased dramatically now that he was equipped with some of Valganleer's most prized items.

Lendrith closed his eyes, his face becoming a solid mass of lines and wrinkles. A couple of moments drifted by, while Kelden sat and watched him, wondering what his master was pondering. At last Lendrith opened his eyes.

"You can find survival advice in the greenstone book," Lendrith said. "Bits of wisdom added by the high council. But ultimately, your own instincts will make the difference on this journey. Never let down your guard, and never fully trust anyone you meet. On Americk Dreeth, the second most dangerous creatures to worms are beings like you and I. Galds are even more dangerous than humans, and Torrigs are the worst. But if you stay away from the old Halstarion factories, like you should, you won't meet any Torrigs."

"I know about the Galds," said Kelden, thinking back to the days when he'd hunted rats for their blood. The Galds--tall, warlike mutants who hated humans--had been a constant threat. Kelden had fought with them before, wounding one with a club and taking a dagger to the shoulder himself before his father and brother had put spears through both of the attackers. He remembered the vicious hatred burning in their black, bulbous eyes and the feelings of terror they had inspired within him.

Remembering the incident made Kelden think of his family. They were rat trappers, used to hard living and watching people die. They knew nothing of moral values or laws--just raw survival. His parents had beaten him when they felt the need, and they hadn't shed a tear when his brother died from a snakebite. But the teachers and seers of Valganleer had quickly showed him a world where much more existed--power beyond his imagination, honor and justice, and evil born out of deep selfishness. Kelden came to wonder if his parents had simply lacked an opportunity to expand their minds, and if that was what made them who they were.

Lendrith stood up and placed a hand on Kelden's shoulder. "Good luck, my boy. And make sure not to forget Theodus! You'll need your link."

"Goodbye, Master Lendrith," said Kelden.

"I think you'll see this through somehow," said Lendrith, but he couldn't hide the troubled glint in his eyes.

***

Having nothing more to say, Kelden headed back to his room to get what few things he owned. He considered how refreshing it would be to talk with Theodus again, for the Dar fiend was his best friend.

When Kelden reached Stargazer Hall, he met up with his link. Theodus stood facing Kelden with a puzzled expression. The oozing lava substance that covered him glowed brighter than normal and his bat ears twitched with uncertainty. His yellow eyes looked dazed.

"Kelden? What are you doing awake at this time? And more importantly, what am I doing here? A moment ago I found myself standing on the stairs, as if I had just awakened from sleepwalking. I was headed to your room to ask you what's going on."

"Your memory is gone?" Kelden said. He glanced around. Only one other person was in Stargazer Hall--just a tower sweep, busy cleaning the halls and making sure any sorcery effects were refreshed. Somehow the ethereal light of the stars, comets, and planets made Theodus look sinister, with the dark bits of stony flesh amidst his lava coating causing him to appear as if he were lined with hellish pits or cracks. Kelden pondered the possibility that inside himself was a creature that shared kinship with Theodus and was probably every bit as ugly--if not more so.

"Yes, my memory," Theodus said. "It appears to be failing me. The last thing I recall is going to the holding cells for sleep last night."

"Then you don't remember what happened in the Sky Chamber?" Kelden said. "You don't remember the cleansing?"

"Sky Chamber?" Theodus shook his head. "I do remember a cleansing, which wasn't too long ago--about a month, I think. But I haven't been to the Sky Chamber in ages, Kelden. What's going on?"

Kelden turned away, staring at the glittering length of the hall and trying to make sense of things. Why would the high council have Theodus' memory erased, unless they were trying to dispose of some important piece of knowledge? It might not have even been a cleansing he was taken to after all. It might have been for the sole purpose of destroying the Dar fiend's most recent memories. Perhaps Theodus had become aware of something that someone on the high council didn't want him to know about.

"Come on," said Kelden. "When we get to my room, I'll tell you everything I know. You better prepare yourself, though. It's quite a story."

***

When Kelden finished the tale, Theodus looked utterly stricken. His entire body was a mass of glowing, squirming agitation. His ears twitched fiercely, and his hands opened and closed. He began to pace about like a squat, ugly robot, his feet--backed by his massive weight--dragging heavily against the stone floor.

"I can't believe it!" Theodus hissed. "This is all so sudden. I must think this through." And so he did, while Kelden packed some items that were far less useful than what Master Lendrith had given him.

Theodus folded his arms across his chest. Anger smoldered in his eyes. "It's obvious someone is lying about something. But what could it possibly be?"

Kelden shrugged. "Maybe we'll never know, even if we make it to Frindagan and do what needs to be done."

"If only I could remember!" Theodus muttered. "I feel as if some very important bit of knowledge has been torn from my mind, leaving only fragments that I cannot grasp."

"I guess it's time to go," Kelden said quietly.

"Just like that--and we're thrown out of Valganleer!" Theodus said, his face twisted in a grimace of despair and anger. "I've never been outside these walls, Kelden, and I've been alive for centuries. But I've heard stories about the horrors of Americk Dreeth that would scare you to death. And how does the high council know that Credesar will spare my life? He may kill me the instant he appears."

"You don't have to come with me," said Kelden. "You could always hide out somewhere close to Valganleer until I return."

Theodus bowed his head. "You know I can't do that, Kelden. I'm your link. Without me, most of your sorcery would be weak."

Kelden patted him on the shoulder, his palm growing instantly warm and tingly against the Dar fiend's strange flesh. "Thank you, Theodus."

"It's my duty, after all," Theodus added. "I just wish we had more time to solve this mystery. But I suppose we'll have to put our trust in Master Lendrith and hope he can figure out what's going on. All my years here--all the students I've served--and they treat me like this! My opinion on this matter was never even asked for."

Kelden's gaze roamed around his room one last time, and the images that entered his mind were drenched in sadness. This was the only decent home he'd ever had. Only a short time ago he'd been happy and carefree, believing he had a bright future as a teacher or, preferably, an ageless and powerful seer. And now he had no time to do anything other than head for the Lake Chamber to Valganleer's exit.

"Let's go," he said bitterly.

Theodus nodded. "Dark days have come to us, Kelden. And they shall be long and many in the wastelands of Americk Dreeth."

It was a long walk down to the Lake Chamber, past many more bridges and halls, and by the time they reached the bottom of the stairway pillar, Kelden's lack of sleep had begun to catch up to him. He stumbled along next to Theodus, wondering how far he could travel before he needed to sleep. It would be hard adjusting to being awake in the day and slumbering at night after two years of the opposite.

The stairway pillar rested on a rocky floor--an area called the History Chamber. Tapestries of sorcery symbols and paintings of former seers hung from the walls, as well as depictions of famous battles against the false gods and their minions. Four tunnels led away from this room--to a library, a fancy dining hall reserved only for seers, a viewing chamber where magical re-enactments of battles and other historical events could be witnessed, and the tower's Furnace Room. An open trapdoor with stairs that led down to a bridge in the Lake Chamber.

The Lake Chamber lay mostly underground, the air within it cold and clammy. It was referred to as the bottom floor of Valganleer--even though there were much deeper areas down in earth and stone and molten rock where the links like Theodus were forged--and it offered the only commonly known way out of the tower.

Four massive pillars had been carved into the stone at the corners of the chamber, and the pillars themselves had been hollowed out into smaller rooms and halls. Iron bridges, supported by thick beams that stretched to the bottom of a cold, deep lake named Ackrainia, linked the pillars, crisscrossing high above the dark water. The lake had once been the source of drinking and bathing water for Valganleer, but it had fallen into ruin and had become a dumping ground for hazardous materials, including cursed magical relics too dangerous to be stored safely anywhere else, and worst of all, hideous creatures born of sorcery experiments.

As Kelden and Theodus descended the stairs, they could already hear faint splashing sounds coming from below. The water was alive and hungry, the creatures already alert to their presence.

Kelden paused halfway across the highest bridge and gazed down between the other bridges upon the writhing surface of Ackrainia. He felt a new sadness wrench at him. Like him, those creatures had never had a true home. They had been created to serve the needs of others. By no fault of their own, they had been outcasts and monsters that had been sent away to perish, out of sight and mind. The only difference between Kelden and the pathetic life forms below was that he held out the slim hope for salvation.

Theodus too gazed into the depths. "How could the seers have been so ignorant?" he remarked. "How can they be so thoughtless now in sending us away without even the Gelshad fighters to protect us?"

But Kelden had no answer and just stood silent.

"It's a shame," said Theodus, "that Valganleer, as well as all the other Legaran towers, was built upon the suffering of others. Times have changed. Laws have changed. The horrors of the past wouldn't happen so readily now. But the damage has been done, and the darkness of history is not so easily escaped. It's in the very walls, Kelden. There is justice and honor to be found within this keep, but also great darkness that I believe will never completely be abolished."

Kelden rested his lean form against the bridge rail. Theodus' words pierced deeply. He wondered what Credesar would think of all this. Was the demon gazing out through Kelden's eyes? Did he feel any sort of compassion toward anything or anyone? Kelden doubted that Jarvin's link had any pity in his dark heart.

They crossed the bridge to the Gate Pillar, as this one of the four was called. Kelden could see many windows, doors, ledges, and balconies stretching down the side of the pillar. An archway confronted them, guarded by two Hetheopes. Beyond was a long, torch-lit hallway. They had to wait while one of the Hetheopes went and confirmed their business, but finally they were escorted to the hall's end and up some steps to where a thick iron door awaited them that was guarded by two more Hetheopes. The bull men pulled open the door just enough for Kelden and Theodus to quickly squeeze through. They breached the tower's magical barrier that protected against the worms--an unpleasant feeling of breaking through a living membrane. Then the Hetheopes slammed the door shut behind them with a deafening clatter.

Kelden and Theodus stood on a rocky trail, while fierce rain pelted their faces. Lightning split the sky, revealing the massive heights of the tower that loomed over them. Kelden turned and gazed upward in awe, watching the lighting repeatedly strike the top of Valganleer. The size of the tower was overwhelming, a monstrosity of stone and iron--standing over five-hundred feet tall, shielded by the faintly glowing magical barrier. No guards stood out here, for they would end up as worm food. There were only the barren cliffs and the trail that wound between them--and the West Gate. Valganleer rose up from a valley amid the cliffs, with the road being the only easy way in or out. The West Gate sealed off the road, and it could only be opened from within the tower.

The two outcasts glanced at each other through the flurry of raindrops, a silent acknowledgment of the misery to come. Then Theodus leaned close and shouted in Kelden's ear. "We need to find shelter before the worms arrive or we won't last long. Let's get going."

Kelden nodded and they set off. The slightly acidic rain stung Kelden's flesh, for it had been a long time since he'd been exposed to it. Shielding his face as best he could, he trudged along next to Theodus. It wasn't long before he was soaked to the skin and thoroughly uncomfortable. Adding to that misery was the thought that this was only the beginning of the countless ills that would plague him on this journey. He envied Theodus, who was immune to ordinary discomforts. The Dar fiend's flesh was as stout as stone and he didn't require food or sleep on a regular basis.

"It's back to the rat fields," muttered Kelden. "At least, it feels that way."

"What did you say?" Theodus shouted.

Kelden shook his head to indicate it wasn't worth repeating, and they continued on. The lightning bolts glinted off the West Gate, and Kelden tried to catch a glimpse of the man the Thelaran keepers said was supposed to be hanging from it. The rain and dark obscured his vision, however. He wondered what he should do if he found that man. Was he supposed to free him? As of now, he hadn't broken Valganleer's laws, but freeing a condemned man would earn him a death sentence. He decided to simply wait and see. Perhaps the man had escaped on his own--however unlikely that seemed--or perhaps the worms had already slain him.

That last thought prompted Kelden to pick up his pace, which caused Theodus to lag behind a bit, for the Dar fiend's squat form wasn't built for speed. As they drew closer, Kelden caught a glimpse of the condemned man, who hung motionless on the other side of the gate, facing west. The man's head was bowed, and it was impossible to tell if he was alive. Any lightning that happened to strike the gate was dispersed by rods and cables into the ground. The seers had taken everything into account, and death by electric shock was considered too soft a punishment.

They waited while the gatekeeper, who dwelt somewhere inside Valganleer, received approval to allow them through. It was a mysterious, invisible process. Finally, with a squawking noise and a shudder, the gate opened just enough to let them pass. Quickly the two stepped through, knowing they had only a few seconds before it would close again regardless of whether or not they had made it to the other side.

When the gate had clanked shut, the two gazed up at the prisoner, pondering what to do. He hung high above them, where only a Hetheope guard could reach, with slick iron pillars offering the only way for them to get to him.

"I can't climb that thing," said Kelden. "Can you?"

"Are you actually going to free him?"

"I don't know, Theodus. What do you think?"

"If the seers learned of our deed," said Theodus, "we would be condemned to death. Yet the Thelaran keepers must never be ignored. They said you would travel with this man. It's your decision, Kelden."

"Can you climb up there, Theodus?"

The Dar fiend studied the gate. "I think so."

"Then do it. The Keepers are never wrong. At least, that's what everyone claims. We can use that in our defense, if we have to." Kelden sighed. "Besides, we can't just leave him for the worms to find."

Theodus nodded. "Very well. I'll violate tower law for the greater good." He locked his hands around an iron pillar with a clank. Then he climbed up to the man. He wrenched at the fellow's iron cufflinks. They were stout--built to resist sorcery--but they weren't designed to defend against a Dar fiend's superhuman strength. At last, Theodus managed to break them. Clutching the prisoner, he slid back to the ground.

"He's alive," Theodus said. "I know this student. He's an Ulden snob named Thayan. He has a reputation for being cruel and annoying. I don't like him."

"Help me!" Thayan managed to croak. "The worms..." His eyelids fluttered open, his eyeballs pelted by stinging rain. He closed them again. His body went limp, but his chest moved with labored breathing.

"I sense trouble with him," said Theodus. "It radiates from him like dark sorcery, and it could prove our undoing."

Kelden shrugged. "Look at us out here, Theodus. How much more trouble could we find? Thayan will learn to respect us, because his life will depend on it. We'll need each other in order to survive. Now let's find a cave and get out of this rain!"

Theodus' face was set in a disgusted look. He carried Thayan roughly, shifting him about constantly, as if disturbed by his very touch.

As they searched amongst the cliffs, the storm grew worse, the rain hammering against them so hard it left Kelden feeling bruised. He didn't bother to try to shield himself from it--even if he could have found a way to do so. Misery was his way of life now, and he figured he might as well get used to it.

### Chapter 5: The Captives

The cliffs along the road were full of natural caverns, and they chose one that had a small entrance and went back an untold distance. Kelden draped his wet clothes over Theodus' warm body, and steam poured from them. Meanwhile, Thayan lay tossing and turning on the cold stone floor, mumbling incoherently.

"Maybe we should move back into the cave a bit," said Theodus.

Kelden glanced into the darkness, then shook his head. "I don't like the aura here, Theodus. Besides, if a worm wanders in, it will find us anyway."

"I feel it too," said Theodus, "an aura of evil. Maybe we should search for a different cave."

"It's too late," said Kelden. "And I'm too tired and hungry."

Kelden used the food maker to produce his meal. It looked like a simple brass pot with a dragon-shaped handle, but it was actually a sophisticated magical device that produced a cruddy brown cookie which was quite nutritious. It could be used thousands of times before it had to be recharged.

"I'll save a few for our friend here," Kelden said, his mouth full of cookie. "Would you like one, Theodus?"

The Dar fiend sniffed disdainfully. "As you know, I rarely find it necessary to eat. When and if I choose to do so, I'll consume something worthy and not one of those tasteless things."

"More for me," said Kelden. As he ate, he felt a spark of optimism. He had powerful weapons and devices, and Theodus to help him. Maybe he would succeed after all in reaching Frindagan and everything would turn out fine.

He tried to leave his thoughts right there, but once he finished eating, doubts crept in. The seers had warned him this would be no easy task. And he wouldn't always be so quick to find a cave by nightfall.

Kelden sighed, watching the rain beyond the cave mouth in the failing light. It would be dark soon, yet they didn't dare light torch or candle. His thoughts turned to the warm bed and comfortable halls of Valganleer, and he shuddered, wracked by chills. His clothes were now warm and dry against his skin, but he was so cold inside he might as well have still been soaked. The gloom seemed all around him now.

Thayan cried out in his sleep, his voice echoing through the cave. "Please..." he begged. "Don't do this..." He groaned and rolled over.

"Perhaps we should gag him," Theodus said. "If he yells like that too much, he could alert worms to our hideout."

Kelden said nothing, his eyes fixed on the cave mouth. His fingers were splayed out against the stone floor, tense and cold, his knuckles white.

"Are you okay?" Theodus asked.

Kelden nodded. "I just can't believe this. What are we doing here, Theodus? How did things come to this? I can't imagine how we'll survive."

"We'll do what we must," said Theodus, in his best wise, calm voice.

Kelden rolled his eyes and muttered, "Great advice. Big help there."

The two fell silent, as the cave turned pitch black. Only the lightning made their surroundings visible every so often.

Thayan cried out again, waving his arms as if to fight off some invisible foe. Then he took to muttering in a low voice.

"We need to silence him," Theodus warned.

"The worms won't hear him," Kelden said wearily. He wasn't sure why he said this, as he had no idea if his words were true. He was simply exhausted and didn't want to bother doing anything but sit there.

Theodus lay down and folded his arms behind his head. "As you wish. You're still my master--to the bitter end, I suppose."

"I'm not your master," Kelden said. "Don't be ridiculous. We're not in Valganleer anymore, Theodus."

The cave grew silent, save for the echoes of the storm. Thayan stopped his muttering and lay still. Longer pauses began to occur between the lightning flashes, leaving total darkness during those times.

During one such pitch-black moment, a loud thump arose near Kelden. It sounded as if something heavy had struck stone.

"Theodus?" he called out. "What was that?" His heart raced. Had a worm found them? Was this the end?

Theodus didn't answer.

Lightning illuminated the cave, revealing a huge figure standing over Kelden. In that single flash of light, Kelden got a fair look at the figure. He was a huge man with a bald head, a bushy black beard, and insane eyes. His chubby face was weathered and lined, with dark flesh beneath his eyes as if from lack of sleep. Upon his forehead was branded the rune of Green World. It had been crossed diagonally by another line, which meant he'd been stripped of his rank.

"A former seer!" Kelden gasped, and then the man slammed a crystal mace down on Kelden's forehead. He felt himself slipping away, and he tried frantically to fight it off. But it was too late. The darkness took him.

***

Kelden awoke with a throbbing headache and found himself staring at a torch-lit cave ceiling. He was chained to a metal table. His neck felt like lead, and he kept his head still, afraid to move it.

He heard footsteps, and a paralyzing fear gripped him. A figure leaned over him, revealing the huge body of the former seer.

"How do you feel?" the man asked.

"My head hurts," Kelden said. "Where's Theodus?"

"Your companions are alive," he replied, "and in other chambers. The Dar fiend appears to be out cold. He could be faking, however. A Dar fiend should recover quickly from a simple blow to the head."

"What will you do with us?" Kelden asked. He remembered what the Thelaran keepers had told him--that they had somehow been blinded. Was some sinister truth now unfolding before his eyes?

"I'm not yet sure," the man said. "There are questions I simply must know the answers to. And you probably have questions of your own. I may release you, or I may be forced to kill you. But your best chance for survival is to be truthful. Is that understood?"

"Yes," Kelden said. "What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing too severe," he replied. "You've been incoherent for a while, babbling nonsense. It is now early morning. I think the blow from my mace rattled your brain. Your neck is sprained, and you've got a decent bump on your head. I hit you harder than I meant to, and at first I thought I'd killed you."

Kelden turned his head, and he cried out as pain tore through his neck; but he got a better glimpse of the chamber--a small cavern lit by four torches. Plump, yellow-spotted mushrooms grew nearby in trays, a nutritious and tasty sort called sunbeams that Kelden recognized from the underground gardens of Valganleer. They were a dietary staple in the tower, consumed at nearly every meal. Pots of soil, crude gardening instruments carved of wood and stone, and strange metal drums also stood nearby, leaving only a bit of space to walk amongst them. A tunnel led from the room into shadow.

"Why did you attack us?" Kelden asked.

"You're from Valganleer, correct?" said the man. "Therefore, you're my enemy and I must interrogate you. I couldn't afford to take chances. You'll tell me everything, including where you were going and why you have an array of incredibly powerful items in your pack. You will not lie to me, for I have sorcery that can determine if you're being truthful. A single lie on your part will be fatal."

Kelden decided there was no harm in telling everything--and it might save his life, if the man truly possessed such sorcery. He told the entire story, stumbling over his words because his nagging headache made him forget things, while the former seer watched silently. He told it in detail, mainly for his own sake--having the need to speak it aloud to someone, even if it had to be his captor. It was a bold risk, one Kelden knew could result in his death. But he felt compelled to tell everything, for during his training at Valganleer, he'd learned to trust his instincts above all else.

The man said nothing for a time. Then he leaned closer to Kelden. "That, my young friend, was quite a tale!"

"Who are you?" Kelden asked.

The huge man smiled. "An alchemist named Dameon. I was exiled from Valganleer over a century ago, for undertaking forbidden experiments with old world Halstarion technology. Now I reside in this cave." His smile broadened. "I started out as a Gelshad fighter--as you may have guessed by my physical stature. Later I became an alchemist, and my discoveries led me to become a seer. I was at one time quite respected. Though I'm no longer officially a seer, I still regard myself as an alchemist."

Dameon spoke in a friendly tone, but Kelden was not about to forget what this man had done to him. Nor could he trust anything Dameon said, former seer or not. Rage built within Kelden as he envisioned the mace slamming down on his skull. He sent his will into his blood, and his heartbeat sped up, the magic coming to life. He couldn't break his chains, but he could still inflict harm.

"You're angry with me," Dameon said, nodding. "The blow to your head haunts your mind, makes you want to strike out at me. You could summon your magic, weak though it would be without your link, but then I might be forced to kill you. You should think carefully before you act."

Kelden let his anger slip away. Frustration wracked his brain. He had a long and frightful journey ahead of him, yet he was trapped in this cave--somewhere still close to Valganleer--while precious moments slipped away.

"So you claim to harbor the demon Credesar inside of you," said Dameon. "Certain factors give much credibility to your story. Why would you be leaving Valganleer with only your link and one other man? If you'd been cast out for a crime, your link certainly wouldn't have been with you. Also, the items you bear are impressive. A slim chance exists you could have stolen them, but it's so slim that your story is more believable. Also, I removed a strange device from your wrist."

"The bracelet!" Kelden said, remembering it now that it was no longer attached to him. "What is it?"

"I don't know," Dameon said. "I only discovered it by using a Halstarion scanning device. I plan to do further tests to see if it could be useful to me."

"I'm losing time by being here!" said Kelden, his patience slipping.

"Of course," said Dameon. "As the weeks and months go by, Credesar will grow stronger until he eventually breaks free." He fell silent for a while before adding, "And that is exactly why I should keep you chained up."

"But why?" Kelden asked in disbelief.

"Credesar could complete my ultimate goal," said Dameon, "which is to bring down Valganleer Tower."

"But why would you want such a thing?" said Kelden, shocked by the blatant and casual way the man spoke of such evil. "That's crazy!"

"It's not insanity that drives me," said Dameon. "Or even bitterness. I was cast out, but I've come to accept my fate. Rather, I seek to end the great corruption that the Legaran towers represent--starting with Valganleer. You may have been fooled into believing the towers are islands of hope in a sea of decay. But what hope do they represent? For over two-thousand years the seers have conducted research within those walls, while the rest of Americk Dreeth rots away. And to what end?"

At Valganleer, Kelden had often heard of important research and experiments being carried out, but seldom learned of the results. Occasionally, the Gelshad fighters were sent out to help protect the small communities that still existed in places on the continent, but they never seemed to improve the land's situation much.

"It has to be the worm plague," Kelden finally said. "The seers haven't found a way to end it. So life outside the towers cannot be improved much."

"Yes, the worms remain unconquered," said Dameon. "But that alone wouldn't keep the seers from improving the lives of those less fortunate. The big secret the seers are hiding is that they don't actually care about Americk Dreeth. Instead, their focus is on the Heart of Green World. The Heart is the hidden realm within our plane of existence that they draw their power from. Contrary to what you may have been taught, most of the seers never actually die in this world. They eventually accumulate enough power to survive in the Heart, where they lead an existence of luxury and pleasure. Instead of fixing this broken world, they choose to leave it!"

Kelden had an overwhelming urge to get up and pace, or shift positions--or do anything except lie there on his back. "If that's true," he said, "then Americk Dreeth is doomed."

"It was doomed long ago," said Dameon, with a sad smile, "when the first Legaran tower was constructed. When the time comes and all animal life is eradicated from the continent by the ferocious appetite of the worms, only the towers will remain--until they too finally crumble into ruin. The reason the seers keep recruiting prospects like you is because new minds make new discoveries, all for the purpose of strengthening their position in the Heart and ensuring that nothing can interfere with their retirement plans. But make no mistake--they don't care if humanity survives on Americk Dreeth in the long run. If fact, they expect it to die out. Remember, I was a seer once."

"What changed you?" asked Kelden. A dark fear was tightening its grip around his heart, assuring him Dameon was no liar. Dameon truly believed the things he said. Whether or not he was insane was another matter.

"It was a combination of things," said Dameon. "But the main factor was my interest in Halstarion technology. I stole forbidden books that forever opened my eyes to something greater. The old world wasn't such a terrible place. It held many wonders brought about through science. Yes, the Halstarions made a dire mistake in creating the worms, but that fact doesn't diminish their amazing accomplishments. I've developed a deep fondness for the ways of the old world, and I believe our future could still lie along the path of science, if we can set things right. That belief--and my lawbreaking efforts to validate it--ended my career at Valganleer."

Dameon's words swirled through Kelden's mind, and any lingering shreds of anger over being bludgeoned were forgotten. There were much larger issues to contemplate than his personal well being.

"That's why I want to bring down Valganleer," said Dameon, "and all the other Legaran towers. I want to begin again, to explore the ruins of the old world and restart the factories. I want humanity to truly rise from its ashes."

"But the worms came from the factories!" Kelden said with a shudder.

"And just as they were born there," said Dameon, "the secret to their destruction can also be found in those places. The seers can never defeat the worms--even if they cared enough to make an effort toward it, which they don't--because the worms were born out of science, and it will take science to destroy them. The centuries have proven that sorcery won't do the job."

Dameon's words were convincing, his convictions strong. But Kelden had been taught to hate and fear Halstarion technology--especially the ruined factories--and he couldn't be swayed by words alone.

"Can you prove this?" he finally asked.

"Perhaps," said Dameon. "But let us return to another issue. Could Credesar do my work for me? Could he bring down Valganleer and all the other Legaran towers? It's a tantalizing prospect!"

"He would probably kill everyone," Kelden said. "If the false god Jarvin still controls him, no one would survive. Humanity would end regardless, unless the seers were able to defeat Jarvin like they did in the past."

Dameon's face fell, and for a moment Kelden wondered if this man was totally insane. In spite of his bushy beard, he looked like a sad child who might break down and sob. Kelden shivered with dread.

But then Dameon smiled. "You're probably right. You should go on with your quest and see Credesar destroyed. I have another method for dealing with the towers--one that's almost ready to be put into action."

"What will you do?" Kelden asked, grateful beyond words that the alchemist was suggesting he would release him--but dreading the thought that Valganleer, and everyone within, might be destroyed.

"Should I tell you?" Dameon said. "You might be a spy who would report my plans to the seers."

Suddenly a thumping noise arose, drawing closer. Dameon whirled about as Theodus strode into the room. The Dar fiend carried the alchemist's crystal mace in one gnarled hand. He looked like an angry gargoyle, and he waved the weapon menacingly at Dameon. His bat ears twitched with rage, and his yellow eyes gleamed with a deadly fire. His wrists dripped dark blood from injuries.

"Release my master," he growled, "or I'll kill you!"

Dameon raised his eyebrows. "I've grown too lax in my old age--leaving my mace lying around. I forgot how strong you Dar fiends are. Now why don't you hand over my weapon before I lose my temper?"

"Do as I say!" Theodus insisted.

"You cannot leave my cave unless I allow it," said Dameon. He unlocked Kelden's chains.

"We shall bind you to the table," said Theodus.

"That's not necessary," said Kelden. "He was going to let us go, Theodus."

"I doubt that," Theodus hissed, motioning at Dameon with the mace, "or he'd have done it sooner. No, I had to do it myself, and my wrists are torn open from the strain of breaking those cuffs. It will take days for me to heal from that. I should give this rogue a taste of his own medicine!"

Dameon's eyes narrowed. "Watch what you say, Dar fiend."

"He's not such a bad fellow in some ways, Theodus," Kelden said. "He thinks he knows things about Valganleer that we don't. He attacked us because he was afraid we might be here to do him harm."

"Well, I know a few things about him," Theodus said. "I've been sneaking around in his tunnels, and guess what I found? A bunch of old world technology, including something that looks like it could be a bomb, if my knowledge of Halstarion weapons serves me correctly. Do you know what that means? A Halstarion bomb causes immense destruction. It just blasts things into pieces in a great shock wave. It is terrible beyond comprehension."

Dameon glowered, and Kelden was sure the two were going to have at it. Then the alchemist softened his expression. "It is indeed a bomb--powerful enough to turn Valganleer into a pile of rubble."

"We shall report you to the seers at once!" Theodus said.

"I need a little time to recover," Kelden said, his headache pounding harder. He just wanted the conflict to end so he could focus on healing himself.

"I can carry you, if need be," said Theodus.

"My neck can't be jarred," Kelden said, shuddering at the prospect. "We have to stay here while I meditate on my neck."

"You have a potion of healing," Theodus reminded him.

"It's for disease," said Kelden. "Not injury."

"I hid all the items I took from you," Dameon said. "And at this point, I'll die before I tell you where. And the only way out of this cave is well hidden."

"We have to stay awhile," Kelden said. "But keep the weapon and don't let him gain any advantage over you."

"Turn Valganleer into rubble?" Theodus seethed. "What kind of worthless wretch are you? How could you ever contemplate such a thing?"

"I'll bring it down," said Dameon, smiling. "Don't think I'm being ridiculous. My bomb will topple the whole tower, and leave nothing but blackened rock to mark Valganleer's passing. And if your intent is to report me to the seers, you'll never leave here alive. Anyway, welcome to my humble home!"

***

Thayan Rommel lay awake on the metal table, wondering who had rescued him and why. It seemed someone had saved him from certain death only to make him a prisoner. He wondered if the seers were still inflicting torture on him. Perhaps they felt his death would have come too quickly from the worms and were seeking to prolong it.

Sometime earlier a huge former seer had questioned him. Thayan had answered truthfully that he knew nothing of any companions--though he vaguely remembered the presence of others. The big man only insisted that in time Thayan would loosen his tongue.

But the mysterious man hadn't returned since then, and Thayan was taking no chances. He'd already used his magic to help his body recover from all it had gone through, and now he was working on the chains. Ulden magic allowed rapid healing and could exert great force on certain metals. Yet so far the chains seemed sturdy, with no weakness in them he could exploit. He was a talented sorcerer, but he wasn't skilled enough to break solid iron without his link to amplify his power.

Thayan didn't give up, though, for there was always a chance. With each passing moment, his hatred grew stronger. Despair was turning to rage, driving his efforts to break the chains. If he could flee somewhere and hide out, he could figure out a way to seek vengeance against his tormentors.

The seers all blurred into one image in Thayan's mind--the face of Vangoss. The lord of the high council represented all that Thayan had come to despise, for he'd calmly ordered the Ulden student's harsh punishment. But Thayan lumped all the seers together, and he saw them and their ugly tower as a huge, unfathomable force of oppression that might never be toppled.

"If I could tear it down stone by stone, I would," he whispered aloud. His voice sounded strange and bitter, as if someone else had spoken.

Thayan wondered how his sister would view his rage and hatred. Would she condone it, or pity him for his mortal weaknesses? She'd been the only family he'd ever had. His father and mother still lived as far as he knew--deep in the grasslands of Tembros. But they were dead to him. They had sold Thayan and his sister to the Galds. He'd been forced to work for the mutants--doing all manner of unpleasant and dangerous tasks--while his sister was taken into the village shaman's dwelling. Death had been her only means of escape from a life of utter misery, and a worm had delivered it. Thayan had continued his labors until the seers had discovered him by use of their sorcery. They sent Gelshad fighters into the village to get him, and the elite warriors slaughtered every Gald that didn't manage to escape. While Thayan was shocked by the mercilessness of the Gelshads, he hated the Galds to the core of his being. He came to look upon the seers as his deliverers and would have given his life for them.

"Not anymore!" he snarled through clenched teeth, the feeling of betrayal overwhelming him.

The death they would have forced onto him was worse than anything the Galds would have inflicted. They had wanted him to share his sister's fate--a punishment even the savage mutants might have viewed as too harsh. At his trial, he'd told the seers what had happened to her, yet they still felt the need to send him to the same doom. And in their blind pursuit of justice, they had planted seeds of hatred inside him--more destructive than any weapon.

Thayan made another vow to gods that he felt probably didn't exist or didn't care about mortal strife--a vow that he would live to see Vangoss dead, that he would somehow crush the heart of the lord of the seers.

For a long while he lay dreaming of killing Vangoss and tearing down Valganleer, his hands knotted into fists. His heart had burned to black ash, soaked in hatred.

### Chapter 6: Outcasts Under Stone

"I shall fix us all some breakfast," Dameon said. "That is--if the Dar fiend will permit me the freedom to do so."

"I won't let you out of my sight," Theodus said.

"Let him cook breakfast," Kelden said. "Meanwhile, I can concentrate on healing. Just keep an eye on him."

Theodus sighed. "I suppose, if only for your sake."

While Dameon prepared breakfast under Theodus' watchful gaze, Kelden channeled his sorcery into his wounds. The smell of cooking stew drifted through the cave, reminding Kelden of the comforts of Valganleer.

Finally Dameon returned. "Come, the stew is nearly done. I want to let your friend loose, but he looks to be an angry one. He views me as a tormentor and probably thinks I'm in league with the seers. I'll need your help to keep him calm."

Kelden rose, groaning as his neck and head throbbed with pain. They followed Dameon and entered a short tunnel that led to a larger cavern that was well furnished--but strangely so. Instead of the usual wood or stone chairs Kelden was accustomed to seeing, these were brightly colored, smooth ones made of a lightweight material he could not identify. At the room's center was a rectangular wooden table, prepared for a meal. The stew sat simmering on an iron stove with a square metal box where the chimney should have been. A shaggy red carpet, crudely cut, covered much of the floor. The chamber was lit by a metal lantern that sat on the table. The lantern displayed odd symbols and had a smooth, seamless look that made it unlike any lantern Kelden had ever seen. A large bookcase stood against one wall, displaying books with shiny blue covers. More steel drums stood in the corners, along with iron pots and pans.

Near one wall was what appeared to be a man made of gleaming metal, correctly proportioned, with two orange, bulbous eyes. It was seated on the floor, its back to the wall. Its head was cocked to one side, one arm tucked behind its back. Though it had no mouth or nose, and seemed to be nothing more than an elaborate sculpture, something about it made it appear strangely lifelike. Chills crept over Kelden. Theodus stared at the metal man disdainfully--as if he knew something about it Kelden did not--as they walked past and entered another tunnel.

This one branched off into two, and they went left. They soon found themselves walking in darkness, and Kelden tried to keep pace with the others while stepping very carefully along. They soon entered a torch-lit room littered with metallic objects. Tools lay everywhere, and black and grey cords crisscrossed the floor. Kelden could make little sense of most of the objects, though he assumed by their strangeness they were bits of the Halstarion technology Theodus had mentioned. Kelden had always imagined such devices would be awe inspiring, yet what he saw in this room looked like a bunch of junk, some of it badly rusted.

Thayan lay chained to a metal table. He regarded them with shock in his eyes--especially when he saw Kelden, whom he obviously recognized even though the two had never spoken to each other. His long black hair hung in tangles, his face darkened by stubble. His pale skin contrasted his bright blue eyes. Kelden could not recall having noticed him in detail before, but that was mainly because Kelden usually walked with his head bowed whenever he passed Ulden students in the halls. Thayan appeared hopeful yet guarded, ready to retreat inside himself should more torture come his way.

"How are you today?" Dameon asked him.

"Hungry and thirsty," Thayan said.

"The stew is nearly done," Kelden said. "And I'm sure our friend has some water he might spare."

"His food and drink are probably poisoned," Thayan said. "After all, what kind of man would keep me chained here like an animal?"

"I understand your anger," said Dameon. "It was necessary for my own safety, but now I can let you loose. I have an explanation for you, and so does Kelden. We can talk over breakfast. We can learn to be friends. We may have much in common, you and I--something I should have realized from the start."

Thayan's expression softened. "Then let's eat," he said, smiling. It was a fake smile, a mask hiding dark thoughts Kelden couldn't fathom.

***

At first they did little talking and instead concentrated on stuffing down as much stew as they could. Fortunately, there was enough to satisfy everyone. It consisted mostly of sunbeam mushrooms and a few plants Kelden wasn't familiar with, set in a thin broth. It was not well flavored aside from the tasty mushrooms--lacking spices--but it was far better than what his food maker had produced. Theodus did not eat, but his sour expression, and the fact that he still brandished the mace, indicated he probably wouldn't have eaten Dameon's food even if he'd been hungry.

Thayan sat hunched over the table, slurping down stew as quickly as he could manage. He didn't look at the others. He reminded Kelden of an animal--eating swiftly so no other beasts could steal what he had. Kelden pitied him and felt disgust toward the seers, wondering why they sometimes delivered such harsh punishments. It made Dameon's arguments seem all the more convincing.

The silence was odd and tense, and no one seemed to want to break it. But when they had eaten their fill, Dameon leaned back and patted his belly. "A good meal--wasn't it, my friends? So what should we talk about?"

Thayan gazed coldly at him. "The exit out of here, maybe?"

"No need to be hasty," Dameon said, a hint of warning in his voice.

Thayan glanced toward the tunnels.

Fearing Thayan was considering trying to leave, Kelden quickly added, "So how did you end up here?"

Thayan stared at him as if he were insane, and Kelden was overwhelmed by the strangeness of the situation. This was a former Ulden student, someone who'd always looked down on the likes of Kelden, and now they were on the same level--and it was a lowly one. How would Thayan react to not being superior? To Kelden, it seemed Thayan would be hopelessly lost and bitter.

"You tell me," Thayan said. "The last I knew, I was hanging from the West Gate, about to be worm food."

"I didn't mean that," Kelden said quietly. "What I meant to ask was how did you end up being thrown out of Valganleer."

"I wasn't technically thrown out," Thayan reminded him. "I was sentenced to death. I did a horrible, evil deed. Beyond your imagination." His words were mocking, his blue eyes icy. He folded his arms across his chest and bowed his head.

"Thayan might not want to talk about it," said Dameon, in a soothing voice. "I can understand that. But I will tell you this, Kelden--Thayan is no villain. His crime was no worse than my own, though the seers did not see it that way. He is not a Blue World sorcerer, or a conspirator of evil intent, or anything of the like. Thayan is, I believe, a good lad. I know it in my heart."

Thayan glanced at Dameon, and for a moment his eyes lit up with surprise and gratitude. Then he bowed his head again, retreating into himself.

Kelden exchanged a glance with Theodus, and the Dar fiend rolled his eyes in disgust, as if he knew exactly what Dameon was up to.

Thayan muttered something Kelden couldn't hear.

"What did you say?" Kelden asked.

"I said what about you?" Thayan repeated in an unnecessarily loud tone, sticking his hands to his mouth in bull horn fashion. "What did you do to get kicked out?"

I was kicked out because I have the demon Credesar inside me, Kelden thought, wondering how Thayan would react to such a statement. Kelden shrugged. "I'll tell you some other time, maybe. It's a complicated affair."

"If you say so," Thayan said, glancing at him with narrowed, suspicious eyes. "Must not have been too bad, though, since you've got your Dar fiend with you and the seers obviously just let you walk out."

Kelden said nothing, wishing Thayan would change the subject.

"I shall tell my story, then," said Dameon, "though it may bore Kelden, since he already heard it."

"I think I know your story," Theodus muttered. "Tossed out for making use of Halstarion technology, no doubt."

"Quite right," said Dameon. And then he proceeded to relate to Thayan all he'd told Kelden. Thayan did not raise his head, and his face never changed expression. But something was going on as he listened. Kelden could sense it. Strong emotions were running through Thayan's mind.

Suddenly, Thayan met Dameon's gaze. "Did I hear you right? You can actually topple Valganleer?"

Dameon smiled mischievously, stroking his busy beard. "Into rubble, lad. Into rubble! My bomb is more powerful than Valganleer Tower. I know it has never been done before--the destruction of a Legaran fortress. But I'm telling you right here and now that I can do this. Of course, now that all of you know this, you cannot leave here and just go on your merry way. But I needed to tell you about it, because I feel you can help me in my goal. You will see."

"You're insane," Theodus said. "And it will bring you to ruin."

Thayan sat quietly for a few moments. Then he said: "And why should I believe you? You could just be some crazy old man. I've seen the junk lying about in here. It doesn't look like you've put anything together right. And how can a bomb work without a Bardopolus vortex field? It takes at least three seers and their links to generate one, so I've heard. And that's just not done anymore."

"I don't need some overblown vortex field," Dameon sneered. "My bomb does not use sorcery. It's not the sort of device you are familiar with. It uses pure science, and it's much more powerful than a vortex bomb." He grinned in apparent delight. "You are in my lair now, and the rules of Valganleer do not apply here, Thayan."

"I don't believe you," Thayan said. "How can you have a bomb more powerful than one the seers could create?"

"Oh, but I do have such a weapon," Dameon said slyly. "And I can prove it. I can show it to you, young man."

"Then what are you waiting for?" said Thayan. "Destroy Valganleer. If you don't mind, I'll even give you a hand."

"I've heard enough of this!" Theodus hissed, his bat ears twitching fiercely. "Would you so eagerly take the life of all the innocents within Valganleer? What about your friends, Thayan?"

Thayan shrugged, then nodded. "I guess I wasn't thinking about that. I just know how much I hate the seers. But you're right. It's not the answer."

Dameon glared at Theodus, then turned his gaze back to Thayan. "Not the answer, you say? But it is. This is a time of war, my friend. Casualties will occur, and the innocent will suffer. But once it's all over with, a new age shall begin."

"You have no right," Theodus said. "You are a madman and a coward, and you will never succeed in your plan."

Kelden said nothing. Theodus spoke true in condemning what Dameon was contemplating. But what could be done to change his thinking? How far gone was Dameon after a hundred years in isolation with only his books and devices?

Dameon grinned. "You can't stop me, Dar fiend. I can kill you without any trouble, and my bomb is only a month or so from being complete. No, I'm afraid there is nothing you can do to thwart my plans."

"We shall see," said Theodus. "Unless you kill me, I will report you."

Dameon rose from his chair and pounded the table so viciously the heavy stew kettle jumped into the air and came down with a splash. His arms were like logs, his shoulders massively wide. He was truly a bear of a man. The others seemed overwhelmed. "I can tear you apart!" he growled. "You just watch your tongue."

Then, seeing the troubled expression on Thayan's face, Dameon sighed and sat back down. "But there is no need for violence," he added, with a forced smile. "I am a rational and civilized man, and in due time I will change your minds."

"Never," Theodus said.

"What needs to be done to complete your bomb?" Kelden asked, seeking to gather as much information as he could to gain an advantage. He knew the plot to destroy Valganleer had to be stopped, but he wasn't sure just how he could do it. He had no time to linger in these caves and try to change Dameon's mind, and yet he could not afford to ignore this threat to so many innocent lives.

"Sadly, I am missing a vital component," Dameon answered. "I searched for many years and was unable to locate it. Now, finally, I have translated Halstarion writings that indicate where this device might be found. It is a long and dangerous journey."

"So you're going to travel?" Kelden said.

Dameon's eyes narrowed. "I was planning to, yes."

"Then maybe you could journey with us," said Kelden. "If, that is, what you seek lies in the direction we are going."

Theodus' eyes widened. "Kelden! How could you suggest such a thing? I, for one, will not travel with this monster and help him complete his quest. I cannot believe you would even suggest it."

"It would give us time to change his thinking," Kelden said. "Otherwise, we have to continue our journey and leave him to his...devices."

Theodus sat in sullen silence for a few moments, then nodded. "I suppose that much is true. At least that would give us time to deal with him. Perhaps I could simply strangle him in his sleep. Or maybe he will gain some common sense and see beyond his madness, though I highly doubt it."

Dameon chuckled. "Were we to travel together, it is I who would persuade you to see things my way. Do you want to take that chance?"

"I haven't agreed to travel anywhere," Thayan said. "Why should I put my life at risk? I have no reason to travel." He swallowed hard and suddenly looked stricken, as if he realized for the first time the full weight of his situation.

"Dameon nodded. "You can set off on your own, if you choose. However, you will learn nothing if you wander alone, and what is life but a path to knowledge?"

Thayan shrugged. "What is there to learn?"

"Sorcery," Dameon said. "And the powers of the old world. Come with me, Thayan, and I will teach you all I know of sorcery and the ways of the Halstarions. And my knowledge is formidable. It is the way of the future."

"Don't listen to him, Thayan," said Theodus. "The Halstarions all but destroyed the world when they created the worms."

"Why would you do that for me, Dameon?" Thayan asked, ignoring Theodus. "You don't even know me."

"Perhaps," said Dameon. "But I am a better judge of character than you think. I see great potential in you, Thayan. You remind me of myself when I was young. Do not hide from your destiny."

For a moment the two gazed at one another. The silence grew uncomfortable. Theodus took to muttering under his breath.

"Then we travel together," Kelden said, to speed things along. "I should tell you, Dameon, that the Thelaran keepers predicted others would journey with me. You are undoubtedly one of those they spoke of. And you too, Thayan. But they didn't tell what your roles in this quest would be, or even if you would survive. Maybe there was no way they could predict such things."

"The keepers are fair," said Dameon. "Too bad they exist in Valganleer--and must therefore perish in the flames of justice--but I trust their words. We are destined to find truth, my friends, even if it costs us our lives."

"I am not your friend," Theodus said. "And I will remind you of that as many times as I need to."

Dameon dismissed Theodus with a wave of his hand. "I wouldn't expect a Dar fiend to have an open mind about anything. But I assure you that your friends will see things my way before this quest is done."

"We need to leave soon," Kelden said. "And I cannot deviate even a mile from my route to Frindagan."

Dameon nodded. "Of course. At some point we must part ways. Yet knowing where Frindagan is--as I do quite well, since I journeyed there more than once when I was a seer--we should be able to travel together for at least six months or so."

Theodus grimaced. "Six months of listening to your vile ranting. How will I stand it?"

Dameon scowled. "I was thinking the same thing, Dar fiend. But together we stand a better chance of survival--though my sanity may be jeopardized thanks to you. As much as it pains me to say it, we need each other."

"I agree," Kelden said. "So the four of us need to start finding a way to get along. We can state our opinions and disagreements, but we must avoid the insults."

"Agreed," said Dameon.

"Very well," said Theodus, stomping away.

"And what about you, Thayan?" asked Kelden.

Thayan laughed mockingly. "What you do want--my pledge to be a good boy? Okay, I'll behave, Father."

Kelden hesitated, unsure of how to respond to Thayan's odd, bitter words. "Okay," Kelden said at last. He cleared his throat. "I think this will work. We can rest here until tomorrow. But first, I want my items back. All of them."

"Certainly," said Dameon. "I have my own supplies. I shall bring them to you at once, except for that bracelet, which I assure you is best left to me. Then I will show you that this cave holds some comforts, places where you can meditate and sleep peacefully until morning. Even the Dar fiend should find it to his liking."

"I won't be sleeping," said Theodus. "Not with..." He snapped his jaws shut, seeing Kelden's stern gaze.

"I will slumber soundly tonight, then," said Dameon, a twinkle in his eye, "knowing the Dar fiend stands guard, ready to protect me."

Theodus grimaced, but said nothing.

### Chapter 7: Struck Down

The comforts Dameon spoke of were some quilts and huge bearskin rugs on the floor. Of course, no chamber in the cave was entirely free of old world junk, so objects had to be pushed aside. Kelden rested and meditated on his injuries until dawn of the next day. By then, he felt much better and the bump on his head had gone down. After a quick breakfast, the group prepared to depart.

"There is one more detail," said Dameon, before they left. "I must blindfold you so you can't learn the secret entrance to my cave. And I want my mace back. It's more than what it appears to be."

"Forget it," said Theodus. "I'm well aware that your mace is a Mezzelt weapon. The crystal structure tells me that. I consider this device to be immoral, the binding of a helpless spirit creature into an inanimate object."

"A good many seers possess them," said Dameon. "So save your lecture on morality, Dar fiend. Yes, it's a Mezzelt weapon--and my link. It's no different than you--except that it can't talk and thus I don't have to hear its pathetic speeches. Now hand over my mace!"

"I'd rather destroy it," said Theodus, "thus freeing a fellow demon back into the wild where it belongs."

"And maybe I'll do the same to you," snarled Dameon, "if you do anything other than return my link to me at once!"

"Give it back to him," said Kelden. "As a former seer, he does have the right to own it under Legaran law. Besides, most demons don't mind being bound into weapons, remember? Your kind doesn't get bored like we humans." Kelden fell silent, hoping he'd struck a chord with Theodus' lawful nature.

"If you insist, master." With a scowl, Theodus tossed the mace at Dameon. The big man snatched it from the air and gazed longingly at Theodus' head, as if he envisioned crushing the Dar fiend's skull.

***

Dameon led the three blindfolded companions along several winding turns. Occasionally he brought them to a halt, and noises like grinding gears arose. Oily smells burned in their nostrils, and squishy cables sank with a hiss beneath their feet only to pop up again for the next set of feet to flatten. The noise of running water grew stronger, and they shivered as the air turned cold and damp. They trudged up a steep slope that soon flattened out. After that, they were in open air.

After a mile or so, Dameon still wouldn't let them remove the blindfolds. Finally Theodus tore his off in disgust and flung it to the ground. "I'm done with your games, Dameon. That is the last time you'll ever subject me to this nonsense."

"Fair enough," said Dameon. "You others can remove yours as well."

They did--and found themselves back on Tower Road, which wound its way through the cliffs, with the cave entrance nowhere in sight. Kelden knew there were many caves in this area, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to remember which one was Dameon's lair. The former seer had achieved his objective.

It was a warm, cloudy day. A thick mist had settled over the land. The screeching of tower ravens echoed in the distance, and moments later one of the fat, menacing birds soared over them, its face contorted in an evil look as it studied them briefly before disappearing into the rocks high above.

"The seers watch us," said Dameon. "The tower ravens are their eyes. They will return to Valganleer and report our condition and whereabouts."

In spite of the threat posed by the Halstarion worms, many animals had found ways to adapt and survive. They soon encountered a brown bear on a slope pawing at a pine stump for grubs. When it saw them, it rose up on its hind legs and growled, not wishing to leave its food source. Dameon approached it cautiously, and his crystal mace flared with white light. The animal stood its ground, a huge and powerful beast looming in the fog. With a cry, Dameon flung his weapon. It struck the bear in the face and a blinding flash erupted. The bear's headless carcass toppled down the slope, coming to rest with a thud against an ancient, twisted pine.

Shocked, the others exchanged glances.

"Good throw," Thayan said uncomfortably.

Dameon expertly carved up the bear, and fried the meat in an iron skillet over a fire. The sizzling meat looked and smelled delicious.

"Eat up, my friends," said Dameon, tearing into the greasy meat.

"I'll pass on that," said Theodus, with a disgusted look. "I find the eating of flesh quite disgusting. The crude ways you humans tend your needs is something I'll never understand."

"I'll have some," said Kelden. "How 'bout you, Thayan?"

Thayan shrugged. "That meat looks pretty good. And we shouldn't let the Halstarion worms have all the food."

Dameon slapped his thigh. "Exactly! There's still plenty of food in this land if one knows where to look. The worms haven't gotten everything. We won't need that cookie maker of yours anytime soon, Kelden, if I have anything to say about it."

"I don't doubt it," said Thayan. "The way you took out that bear was amazing."

Dameon smiled. "I can teach you sorcery of that magnitude."

Thayan gazed at Dameon, an eager glint in his eye. "So start teaching. I'm ready right now."

"Later," said Kelden. "We need to keep traveling."

"When we camp," said Dameon, winking at Thayan. "I'm certain you'll be a great student, and I look forward to teaching you all I know."

Thayan kept glancing at Dameon, as if searching the former seer's face for truth. Dameon hummed confidently as he used a wooden fork to stir another pan of sizzling bear meat. Kelden suspected Dameon was determined to sway Thayan to his murderous cause, but he didn't know how to stop it. Thayan wanted to believe that someone actually cared about him. Dameon would fill the role as father and teacher to the lad and slowly plant the seeds of hatred and twisted logic in his mind.

"We've made good time so far," Kelden said, trying to befriend Thayan with conversation. He reasoned that if he gained Thayan's trust, he could match Dameon's influence and steer Thayan in a better direction.

But Thayan scowled. "We've made good time, huh? Time for what? To wander into nowhere? I'm not even sure what I'm doing here." With that, Thayan tossed a half-eaten piece of meat back in the pan and trudged off behind some rocks.

Kelden sighed in frustration. Glancing up, he saw that Dameon had a hint of smile on his lips.

***

Before they set out again, Dameon looked over Kelden's map in the greenstone book, but he shook his head. "Not a good route at all," he said. "These battered, rocky stretches will dwindle away in a couple weeks of travel. We'll then find ourselves in the Strangle Bog, a long belt of filthy wet terrain that has choked off the neck of our land. It is far too wide to go around. Your route--the one provided by the great seers--leads straight through it."

"I've been there," said Kelden, with a groan. "On my way to Valganleer. Weeks of slow travel to get through it, while mosquitoes drain your blood and you catch any number of illnesses. I'd rather avoid that route if possible."

"Our goal," said Dameon, "should be the underground city of Murakan. We can follow Tower Road straight there."

"The seers wanted me to stay away from populated areas," said Kelden, "due to the threat of...well, you know."

"I have a new plan," said Dameon. "A far better one than wandering like fools for months over worm-infested landscapes and through treacherous bogs. In Murakan, we can buy or rent Altan bulls. They can shorten the journey tremendously, but the cost will be great. If we sell one or two of your items, we'll have enough."

Kelden clutched his pack defensively. "I don't know about that."

"Think of it," said Dameon. "We'll soar like the wind over the land and be in Frindagan long before the demon Credesar rips his way free of your corpse. You'll never make it in time on foot! And there is no way you'll be able to walk the great distances from shelter to shelter without getting stranded out in the open after dark--especially when you reach the vast stretches of the Tembros plains."

Kelden thought it over, and nodded. "You know, that's actually a great idea. I can't believe the seers didn't think to suggest that."

"I can believe it," Dameon said softly.

"What do you mean?" said Kelden.

"Nothing. Just a theory I'm working on."

"We'll stop in Murakan, then," said Kelden. "But if we do--we have to get those Altan bulls, otherwise it won't be worth it."

"We will," said Dameon, licking his lips. "One way or another."

***

The mist thickened. It became difficult to see more than a few yards in any direction. Boulders and trees looked sinister in the fog. Something began to bother Theodus, and occasionally he would stop to shake his head.

"What's wrong?" Kelden asked.

"Dark magic," said Theodus. "Worse than anything I've ever felt--like pure venom. We cannot keep going this way."

But they did, hoping the Dar fiend was either simply being paranoid or sensing traces of old, relatively harmless magic in stone ruins or evil caves. But Theodus grew more desperate, until finally he refused to go on. "We've made a terrible mistake," he said. "We thought only of worms or mutants as dangers. But something much more dreadful hunts us."

Dameon clutched Theodus' shoulder. "What threatens us?"

"A shadow of some sort," said Theodus. "It's not clear to me. An assassin's mind at work, plotting against us."

Dameon glanced about, then shook Theodus roughly. "Concentrate, Dar fiend. We need to know who stalks us, or we'll die without ever having a chance to fight. You need to tell us!"

Kelden and Thayan drew close to the two. Kelden considered his options and quickly decided he'd have to make a stand. A startling image invaded his mind--of the four of them lying blood-soaked on the ground, corpses growing cold.

"We are going to be attacked," said Theodus. "Soon. We cannot match the might of this foe. It will surely slay us!"

Dameon's eyes burned with defiance. "They won't finish us like that. Not when there is so much left for me to do!" He pulled the group closer together. "Kelden, give Thayan your feeder torch. Then summon your magic as you never have before! We'll die fighting if we must."

Kelden's trembling hands could barely open his pack, but he managed to pull out the torch and toss it to Thayan. He seized his blood potion of shielding. He struggled to steady himself so he wouldn't spill the precious fluid as he uncorked it. He considered whether or not this was the right time and decided in an instant it was--for he trusted Theodus' keen instincts. With an inner apology to Master Lendrith, he gulped it down. Then he grabbed Theodus' shoulder. As the potion's warmth spread through his body, he remembered that a side effect of the concoction would cause him to lose his sorcery for a little while. But it was too late to worry about that.

The four travelers stood and waited in torment for the attack. As time slipped by, all they could hear was their own breathing. They had nowhere to hide and no chance of fleeing. Theodus had made that quite clear. They would have to make their stand against whatever monstrous force had come to destroy them. They could all feel it now--the choking darkness closing about, the certainty of despair and death. It was the aura of the evil realm of Blue World.

When Kelden could stand the tension no longer, a silver spear tore from the mist and ripped into his back. Charged with a malicious sorcery like poisonous thorns, the weapon fought to shred his flesh and leave him choking on his own blood. The force of the blow threw Kelden onto his stomach and broke through the barrier of the blood potion of shielding, piercing his flesh. Moments later, the weapon disintegrated as blood pooled from the wound. Kelden groaned once and then went still, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Frantically, Theodus ignored the danger and rolled Kelden over, searching for signs of life. Kelden could gaze up, but he couldn't move or speak.

Then a phantom shape stepped from the mist, a smiling figure of blue flesh wearing a grey cloak. The corpse-like face of a Blue World sorcerer was revealed, a young and handsome man with shaggy black hair. His eyes were as kind as an easy death, his sad smile hinting at things that could never be.

The sorcerer gazed at Kelden and nodded. Dameon howled and hurled his mace. But the mace found only mist and stone, bouncing off the rocks with a clatter of sparks. The sorcerer had vanished back into the fog as quickly as a shadow fleeing before torchlight.

***

Kelden stared up at the three figures that stood over him. He was fully conscious, though dazed, and he knew who they were. He could hear their words, but he was utterly paralyzed. The blood potion of shielding had blocked most of the spear's poison. He knew this because he was alive. He wasn't sure how deeply the spear had pierced him (though one of his lungs felt sore), but enough poison had seeped into him to cause his paralysis. Unable to use his magic, he couldn't speed up his healing.

"He's still breathing!" Dameon said excitedly. "Look--his chest is moving. Amazing, to have survived that, even with his shielding potion."

Dameon lifted Kelden and they carried him into a cluster of boulders. They didn't know if the assassin had truly left or was planning another attack, but their immediate concern was Kelden's survival.

"We must help him!" Theodus hissed, his bat ears fluttering. "Thayan, what about your Ulden magic?"

Thayan shook his head. "It works on me, not him."

Theodus clutched Kelden's shoulder, then let go a moment later. He shook his head. "I cannot link to him when he's like this. And I cannot help him with healing anyway so there is really nothing I can do."

"We can save him," Dameon said. He stroked his beard. "It is risky, but it can be done. We can take him to the Gald healers."

"That's insane!" said Theodus. "The forest mutants? Those worshipers of Halstarion technology? They would tear us apart. To go to them would be a fate worse than death."

"You're mistaken," said Dameon. "I've had dealings with the Galds. I've traded old world relics with them and placed gifts before their god. They owe me."

"They owe no one," said Theodus. "They're liars and tricksters. They serve only their pagan gods. If they let you live, it was only because you were useful to them. At any time, they could decide to hang your empty skin from the village gate."

"Enough!" said Dameon. His huge shoulders hunched up and his hands clenched into fists. After a moment, he calmed down a bit, but his eyes still looked crazy. "Enough, Dar fiend. The Galds will help us. They have to. Otherwise..."

"I'm not going near them," said Thayan. "Sorry, Dameon. I'll kill any Gald I see. Those wretches made my sister their...their slave." He swallowed hard, turning away. "Anyway, we need to find somewhere to hide. That thing--whatever it was--might still be hunting us, ready to pick us off one by one."

Dameon's face softened. "I understand, but we must save Kelden. You can wait outside the village. I'll go in alone with Kelden."

"Is there no end to your mad plans?" said Theodus. "These are the Galds we speak of. They are warped beyond reason--mutated by some vile Halstarion alchemy. They have no trace of morality or pity."

"I disagree," said Dameon. "I don't believe the theory that the Galds were once human. I think they're a separate race, quite capable of feeling emotion. But we have no time for this debate!"

"But they're thoroughly evil," Theodus went on. "It shocks me that even you would have dealings with such monsters."

Dameon shrugged. "I'm not fond of their ways. But in a time of war, we must sometimes take drastic measures to achieve our goals."

"It is immoral!" said Theodus.

"While we stand and argue," said Dameon, "young Kelden bleeds his life away on the ground. And you know what that means. If he should die..."

Theodus lowered his gaze.

"Okay, do either of you remember there is an assassin nearby?" said Thayan, his eyes wild with fear. "And he seems pretty good at spear throwing. Can we get out of here now before we end up like Kelden?"

"Do you have a better idea?" said Dameon, his gaze never leaving Theodus. "The Galds can heal him. It is our only hope. As of now, the assassin--whoever he may be--undoubtedly believes Kelden is dead. And why shouldn't he? Who could have survived such powerful sorcery? Kelden should, by all standards of logic, be dead. Yet he lives. That has to mean something. We must take this chance!"

Theodus paced about in extreme agitation.

"Think of the consequences, Dar fiend," said Dameon. "Think of what could happen if Kelden dies. Are you willing to accept such a burden?"

"What would happen?" Thayan asked. "I'm tired of being kept in the dark. Why is Kelden so special? And does it have anything to do with that spear-throwing devil? Since we're standing here like fools, you might as well explain."

Dameon revealed Kelden's situation concerning Credesar to Dameon. When the former seer was done, Thayan's mouth hung partially open, and then he laughed nervously. "You expect me to believe this nonsense, Dameon?"

"I believe it's all true," said Dameon. "And I intend to act on that belief. If Kelden dies, Credesar could emerge and lay waste to the land. While I wouldn't mind the seers getting crushed, the terror that demon would inflict might never end. Therefore, we have no choice but to seek aid from the Galds."

"I won't bargain with those mutants," said Thayan. "Someday, I'm going to kill every Gald down to the last one."

Theodus knelt by Kelden, laying a trembling hand on his master's chest. Kelden fought uselessly to speak, seeking to warn Theodus not to listen to Dameon. Kelden's frustration grew with each passing moment.

"I understand your anger, Thayan," said Dameon. "But the seers of Valganleer and the other Legaran towers are our true enemies. The Galds are savage, but the seers decide the fate of this land. We must live to see them destroyed. Then, perhaps, it will be time to deal with the Galds as well."

Thayan's face lit up with gratitude. "You really would destroy the Galds?" he said. "All of them?"

"If it comes to that," said Dameon. "They took my mother, long ago--before I was even a student at Valganleer. And like all slave women, once she got too old for their liking, she was murdered. The Galds are very knowledgeable about killing slowly. The more pain they can cause a victim, the more their gods are pleased. It took her days to die. I've never forgotten that and I never will."

Thayan stared in disbelief. "And yet you still befriended them and traded with them. How could you?"

Dameon stood up tall. "I am a man of conviction, Thayan. Sometimes we have to bargain with evil before we can destroy it. I hated consorting with the Galds. Like you, I can hardly tolerate the thought of them. Every fiber of my being screams for their destruction. But I'm a patient man, Thayan. I'll swallow my hatred and wait like a poisonous viper until the time is right to strike."

Goosebumps stood out on Thayan's flesh. He seemed completely taken in by the former seer. His dark eyes searched Dameon's face.

Don't listen to him! Kelden screamed silently.

Theodus shuddered. "You're beyond redemption, Dameon."

"Call me what you will," said Dameon, refusing to take his eyes off Thayan and acknowledge the annoying, unyielding Dar fiend. "But justice and truth know nothing of such things. And those ideals are what I stand for."

Dameon finally focused on Theodus. "We waste precious moments. What's your answer? You know what must be done!"

Theodus sighed. "It seems I have no choice. We must try to save Kelden at all costs." His voice was heavy with reluctance. "We'll go to the Galds. There, our fate and the fate of this land will be decided."

The Galds! Kelden silently begged them to abandon their plan. It would take days, but his magic would return and he would heal. His paralysis would end at some point. The shielding potion had done its job, and he wasn't mortally wounded. He could feel it. But they couldn't know this, and he couldn't tell them.

They were intent on taking him into the mouth of hell, into a place so vile he dared not allow even a glimpse of it into his mind. He was stunned, suddenly drained of will and faith. He understood why Theodus had agreed to go to the Galds, but he still couldn't believe it was going to happen. That Dameon willingly had dealings with them spoke of the former seer's deep madness. No one but a fool or a desperately insane man would go anywhere near the Galds. Their evil was like no other.

Panicked, Kelden struggled fiercely to speak or even move his lips. But he had no control over his muscles. Even his heartbeat was barely there. Helplessly he was lifted in Theodus' powerful arms, and then he was bouncing along to what would surely be a death so miserable he might better bite off his tongue and bleed his life away while he still had the chance.

### Chapter 8: Plans Revealed

"How far must we go?" said Theodus, as he carried Kelden through the foggy cliffs. "It might be worse for Kelden to be carried like this."

"A large Gald tribe exists about a half-day's journey from here," said Dameon. "We must head west through a narrow pass in the cliffs. A long and winding trail will take us into forested lowlands. There we shall find the Galds."

"Half a day?" growled Theodus. "Are there none closer?"

"Be thankful it is only that far," said Dameon. "Distances between civilized areas are vast out here--not that I would call a Gald village civilized. Remember, the Galds build their towns next to Halstarion ruins--not where it is convenient for others. We should arrive there by nightfall. The Galds have ways of hiding from the worms. We should be safe there."

Kelden silently disagreed. He knew plenty about the Galds--perhaps even more than Dameon did. The savages had been a constant threat to his home and family, and he'd been forced to fight for his life against them at times. They were primitive but very cunning and extraordinarily patient, waiting and scheming, knowing they eventually would claim their victims. Dameon was deluded into thinking he was using them, but in truth he was lucky to have survived his previous encounters. Now the former seer was bringing Kelden to their village, and the Galds were sure to refuse to let two humans use their services and walk away free. Dameon thought the Galds owed him favors, but Kelden believed the Galds had loyalty to no one except their gods.

As the three travelers hurried along with their wounded cargo, they glanced nervously into the mist. No one spoke of it, but they knew the assassin could still be stalking them. A Blue World sorcerer was a foe that even a former seer like Dameon would find difficult to defeat. But they could do nothing about that, and so they said nothing about it. If the assassin returned to kill them, undoubtedly some--if not all of them--would die.

After a few hours, Dameon took them onto the narrow path that led to the wooded lowlands. The path was a dry river bed that was so narrow in places they had to turn sideways to pass between the cliffs and boulders. The travelers were growing tired of seeing towering rock walls and twisted pines, and they longed for open land. The mist was so thick in spots they had to practically feel their way along.

Finally the cliffs gave way to scattered boulders here and there and soft grass. Their natural trail had ended, and they were roaming freely across the lowlands. The soil began to grow boggy, the mud making sucking noises beneath their feet. Theodus had to be especially careful because his great weight would make him sink fast. As he trudged along, he whispered encouraging words to Kelden.

They paused to rest by a rusted metal object that jutted up from the mud. They knew it had been some sort of Halstarion wagon, because it had wheels on either side. It was a massive, tube shaped thing that stuck up about thirty feet into the air. It was impossible to say how much of it lay under the mud, but the travelers suspected it was much larger than the part that was exposed. It was so badly rusted the wheels were almost welded into a solid mass. Yet after three-thousand years, like many Halstarion relics it was in surprisingly good condition.

Theodus' wrists, which were still injured from escaping Dameon's chains in the cave, were burning with pain--enough to make him wince. But he refused to set Kelden down or let Dameon carry him. Dar fiends were legendary for their stubbornness and loyalty, and Theodus was no exception. Even by Dar fiend standards he was considered unyielding in his sense of duty.

Theodus was leaning with his back against the iron wagon when he suddenly cried out, stumbling forward and nearly dropping Kelden. A clatter snake was latched onto his foot. The creature refused to let go, the bony ridges that made up its thick body making snapping sounds as the snake writhed about, trying to sink its fangs into the Dar fiend's stony flesh. Theodus was more surprised than harmed, and he quickly stomped the snake flat in the mud until its head came off its bony neck.

Moments later, another clatter snake slid silently around the metal object and into view. When it realized it had been spotted, it rose up and shook, making its strange snapping noises. It hissed at them.

Dameon knocked its head off with a mace stroke. At this point, neither snake was completely dead, since the heads continued to live--and would remain alive for several hours. The travelers gave those heads a wide berth as they departed, for the jaws could still latch onto living flesh and inject painful poison. Appallingly, the snakes' decapitated bodies were also still alive, and they continued to writhe around in the mud and make their bizarre sounds.

They started off at a quicker pace. The sun was not visible, and it was hard to tell how late in the day it was. The worms were always in their thoughts. With the cliffs well behind them, they were already growing tired of muddy lowlands when finally they found themselves walking on soft pine needles. The great, craggy trees rose up all around them now, leaving them smothered in mist and shadows beneath the furry boughs. Dameon seemed to know exactly where he was going, however, and he soon had them on another trail, this one leading almost in a straight line between the trees.

Daylight was slipping away. Soon the worms would come, floating through the pines and devouring whatever animal life got caught in the open. Centuries of adaptation had given the forest creatures clever methods of hiding from the worms. But not so with humans traveling through the wilderness. They were the most vulnerable creatures of all.

Exhausted from his struggles and his injury, Kelden slipped into a deep sleep--though he fought it every bit of the way. Even as the heavy curtain of darkness took his mind, he could only wonder what situation he would find himself in when he awoke. He almost hoped he would never wake up.

***

But Kelden did wake up, to find himself staring up into the face of a Gald warrior. The Gald was typical in appearance for his kind. He stood at least seven feet tall. His ears were pointed and his long hook nose nearly met his jutting chin. A wide mouth displayed sharpened teeth that hinted at a devilish grin. His huge, dark eyes were fiercely hypnotic and terror inducing, almost insane with fanaticism and a twinkle of mischief. They were like the bulbous black eyes of a bug. His skin was sickly grey, but his body was strong and healthy, lean yet knotted with muscle. His face and chest were painted in bloody-red designs, with blue circles around his eyes. A large silver ring pierced his nose and hung over his lips. He wore a fur loincloth, fur boots, and leather armbands. He carried a bow and quiver of arrows, as well as a long stone knife.

Kelden's heart sank into despair. The Gald, of course, was delighted to have found them. As he spoke quickly to Dameon in his strange, melodic humming language, he seemed as friendly as could be. But as his gaze shifted to Kelden from time to time, a hint of amusement and perverse joy flashed across his face. He wanted Kelden to see that look and to fear it--for he knew Kelden was helpless.

"This is a scout," said Dameon, wiping sweat from his brow. "He is happy we came and is sure his shaman will grant us refuge from the worms. He is also sure that Kelden can be healed. He says their village shaman is very powerful. He can ward off the evil magic." Dameon spoke confidently, but had he been less than what he was, he would have been virtually paralyzed with fear. No human but a seer could stand in the presence of a Gald and not feel instinctive terror.

Theodus sighed. "And how can we trust him to keep his word? He is, after all, a Gald. And no Gald has ever been trustworthy."

Dameon translated Theodus' statements--or his own version of them. The warrior's mouth gaped open, as if he'd been deeply offended. His black eyes reflected concern. He hummed a few quick statements as Dameon nodded.

"He says the Galds of his village like humans," Dameon said. "He points out that they have always treated me with respect and never gave me trouble."

The warrior reached out and stroked Theodus' smoldering flesh, his eye wide. As Theodus flinched away, he hummed excitedly.

Dameon smiled. "He thinks you are a sacred entity, Theodus. He says that we are truly blessed to be in your presence. But he says he cannot allow you in the village because it might offend their god."

"That's out of the question!" Theodus muttered. "I won't send Kelden in there without me along to protect him. Tell him that."

Dameon did, but the Gald shook his head and hummed a few words.

"It cannot be done," said Dameon. "But he says he will show you a cave in the forest where you can wait and be safe from the worms."

The Gald motioned to the forest and laughed. Then he said something more and laughed again.

Dameon nodded. "He says that even though our friend who hides himself is not worthy of respect, he too can share the cave." Dameon spoke loudly so that Thayan would hear him from where he was hidden behind a large pine.

Theodus glanced helplessly at Kelden. "I cannot do this."

Stand firm! Kelden silently pleaded. Don't let me down, Theodus!

"Kelden has not moved or spoken since the attack," said Dameon. "Look at him. How close to death is he? Hours, or mere moments? He was pierced by Blue World sorcery. There is no time for debate, Dar fiend. If the Galds mean us harm, you cannot stop them. They could have killed us already. Others are probably watching from the treetops as we speak. Let me take Kelden to the village. I guarantee we shall return."

For several moments Theodus stood silent, while Kelden prayed to the spirit of Legaran that Theodus be guided to make the right decision. Then Theodus glanced down at his master and muttered an apology. With that, he handed Kelden to Dameon. "I place him in your trust. Care for him well."

"You won't regret this," said the big man, as he gently lifted Kelden into his arms. "The future of Americk Dreeth depends on the survival of this man. There is so much at stake here." His eyes burned with some inner vision that may have been far from sane. "We must heal him at all costs."

"For once, I agree with you," said Theodus, though his voice was heavy with sorrow. "My heart tells me this is wrong, but logic tells me otherwise."

"And logic is always closer to truth," said Dameon. "The heart can lead you astray."

"Just take good care of him," Theodus warned. "Do not come back alone!"

"If Kelden does not return," said Dameon, "then neither will I. You have my word on it. And in spite of what you might think, my word is golden."

As they started off, the Gald flashed Kelden one more devilish look, this time showing all of his pointed teeth. He whispered into Kelden's mind in the silent way only a Gald could, promising pain and death.

He knows I realize the danger, Kelden thought. Somehow he can sense it. He wants to rub it in, to gloat over the fact that I am helpless and the others are fools.

He shut his eyes and concentrated fiercely, but there was no response from his magic. The effects of the potion had not yet worn off.

***

The Gald led Theodus to a small cave in a thick cluster of pines--a good hiding place by normal standards but hardly great protection should the worms come in force. But it was the only hiding place Theodus had, and so he took it. He watched in silent despair as Dameon carried Kelden off into the forest behind the tall grey savage. And then he was alone, his master beyond his protection and quite possibly beyond hope. He'd failed Kelden miserably, and all he could do was pray that his master returned alive. For if Kelden perished at the hands of the Galds, Theodus was certain he could never live with himself, that he would be eaten alive by mental anguish.

He left the cave and hid Kelden's pack in some undergrowth, vowing that whatever happened the Galds would not get Kelden's items. Then he returned and stretched out on the stone floor to wait for morning.

Not long after that, Thayan trudged into the cave and slumped to the floor. His face bore a look of disgust. "Can you believe this?" he said. "A Gald was so close to me, and I wasn't allowed to kill him. It makes me sick."

Theodus frowned. "I, too, am not fond of the Galds. In fact, they disgust me. But I am not fond of killing anyone, either--even brutal savages. You need to work on your anger a bit, young man."

"You sound like Kelden," said Thayan. "You're two of a kind--all full of moral nonsense. The Galds don't deserve to live. Even you should realize that. And I hate to say this, but I doubt your master is ever coming back."

"I'm aware of the danger," said Theodus, his bat ears twitching. "But what choice did I have?"

"You had a choice," Thayan said. "You could have let him recover on his own. He's a blood lore student. He can heal himself, you know."

Theodus sat up angrily. "His wound was quite severe and corrupted with dark sorcery. I could not link with him. He would not have survived." But his yellow eyes betrayed the doubt he was feeling.

Thayan shrugged. "If you say so. But if the Galds kill him, as I'm sure they will, doesn't that mean the demon Credesar will be born into the world? The false god Jarvin will then have a portal through which to work his evil, right? Isn't that what the seers believed when they sent you two from Valganleer?"

"I'm aware of the theory," said Theodus. "But I'm more concerned with my master's survival than with speculation about what might happen if he dies. Frankly, the notion of some monster rising from his corpse still seems absurd to me. I suppose I still don't believe it's true."

Thayan nodded. "I don't either. I think the seers are liars, and they sent that sorcerer to kill Kelden for some corrupt reason we can't fathom. I think they're the source of all evil." He set his jaw firm, gazing out sternly from beneath his tangled dark hair, daring Theodus to dispute him.

"I see," said Theodus, frowning. "Dameon's influence over you is already complete. You are his pawn now. You will believe anything he tells you."

"The seers tried to feed me to the worms," said Thayan. "All because I wanted to talk to my sister again. I used one little Blue World device for a harmless purpose, and then I was stuck on the tower gate like a piece of meat. Of course I don't trust them. And these are the people you defend?"

Theodus looked away. "The punishment was too harsh. I admit that. It was, in fact, appalling. But you should have obeyed the laws of Valganleer." Yet Theodus seemed troubled. "Who ordered you fed to the worms?"

"Vangoss," said Thayan. "Who else?"

"Vangoss!" Theodus muttered. "Now he is one seer I do not care for. There is something about him. Something...if I could just remember what!"

The two fell silent. Soon evening came, and the shadows in the cave thickened. Theodus closed his eyes for a time, searching his mind for some bit of truth or hope that would bring him peace. But there was none to be found.

When he opened his eyes again, he was staring at the corpse-like, smiling face of the Blue World sorcerer that had wounded Kelden. The sorcerer stood in the doorway of the cave, just barely visible in the failing light. Mist hung about him, as if he were half blended with it. Another silver spear glinted coldly in his hand, but otherwise he seemed perfectly at ease, as if he'd merely stopped by for an evening chat. But the gloom of his aura choked Theodus and Thayan, a sensation that was as physical as it was mental, squeezing their throats and hearts and whispering of things their minds could not fully acknowledge and still maintain reason.

"I hope I didn't startle you," the sorcerer said. His voice was flat and mechanical in contrast to his smile. His eyes were as dead as his voice.

Thayan shrank back. But Theodus faced him boldly, unflinching. "What do you want?" the Dar fiend said. "Haven't you done enough killing? Have you come to end our lives as well?"

The sorcerer rapped his spear on the cave floor. "I've killed no one yet. Do not try to fool me, Dar fiend. I know your master survived my attack. I would have finished him right then, but my energy was expended. I was forced to rest and recover."

"So what do you want?" Theodus repeated. "As you can see, Kelden is no longer with us. If you want him, you shall have to go find him."

The sorcerer shoved the tip of his spear against Theodus' throat, while Thayan continued to cower against the back of the cave. "You've got a lot of loyalty, Dar fiend," he said, no longer smiling. "Even for one of your kind. You know your life hangs by a thread, yet still you seek to defy me. I am impressed."

"I would die for my master," said Theodus. "We are bonded by more than just magic. He is my friend. Something you wouldn't understand."

The sorcerer drew back his spear. "Perhaps. My heart is like black ice, true enough. But loyalty is something I do understand, even if love and friendship elude me. I am loyal to my master Jarvin, the god of blood. I would die for him, as you would for your master. We are not so different in at least one way. Yet oddly enough, you are much more human than I am. Imagine that--an ugly demon like you with a soul far more human than the frozen darkness that infests me. If I could feel shame, I'm sure I would."

"I doubt it," said Theodus. "But it doesn't matter. Obviously, you have all the advantages. I cannot defeat you. I admit that I am helpless. So at least tell me why you want to kill my master--though he has never done anything to bring you harm. Tell me, for I am no threat."

The sorcerer nodded. "I was sent by Jarvin to kill your master because Kelden holds the Paltos fiend Credesar inside him. Credesar used to be Jarvin's link, but he has turned his back on my master. If I kill Kelden Delure, Credesar's physical form will die and he will exist only as an ethereal demon with little influence in this world--which is exactly what he deserves for betraying my lord Jarvin."

"But the seers speak differently," said Theodus. "They believe that killing Kelden will release Credesar into the world."

"Then the seers are fools," said the sorcerer. "My master Jarvin was released into this world the same way Credesar is trying to come through--in the body of a mortal. I personally guarded the life of the host who harbored Jarvin inside him the way Kelden harbors Credesar, and now the host is dead--replaced permanently by Jarvin--and my master walks freely in this land, away from the desolate prison of the Shifting that held him for so long. The seers know this is true. They lied to you."

Theodus leapt to his feet, his body trembling. "Impossible! Jarvin, here? It cannot be. The Shifting prevents it."

"No," said the sorcerer. "Open your wretched little mind, Dar fiend. If Credesar can come through, anyone can. When a human soul is formed inside its mother, it can be made to share its space with the soul of another being. It offers little resistance. Eventually it comes to depend on the other soul and forms a bond with it. Then, at birth, the two have become intertwined. At first, the original soul is much stronger than the invading soul. But as time goes on, the invading soul--if it has the potential--will eventually mature to become much more powerful than the original one. Then the invading soul will tear the original one away and cast it out, and it will transform the body into a reflection of itself."

The sorcerer paused, as if contemplating. "Admittedly, I don't understand the exact process in detail, since I had nothing to do with it, and my explanation is sort of crude. But it is probably not far from the truth."

Theodus said nothing, but his red and black lava flesh smoldered swiftly. He sensed he was hearing the truth to some extent, but he was desperately searching for some flaw that would prove the sorcerer was speaking nonsense.

"So you see," the sorcerer went on, "Kelden was dead from the start. Eventually, Credesar would have torn himself free and your master's soul would be cast out and his body transformed. I am doing your master a favor. I will kill him while his soul is still bound to Credesar--a calm, easy death. With the host body dead, Credesar will be lost in the fog between life and death forever, where demons roam, while Kelden will be at peace. All will be well. Does this make sense to you now?"

Theodus found a point of contention and grasped it furiously. "You lie! The Shifting would prevent all this. The great seers of long ago who defeated and imprisoned the false gods would have foreseen this. The seers might be liars, but so are you. Your explanation is convoluted and ridiculous at best."

"I speak the truth," said the sorcerer. "My master Jarvin discovered a weakness in the Shifting that even the mighty seers did not realize--that humans of no magical ability can pass through it and live. A pregnant woman was then sent through, and Jarvin had his soul transferred into her unborn baby--while his body was somehow sent into a strange void for temporary storage. She then traveled back into this world, bringing Jarvin with her. Later, when Jarvin's soul took control, his body manifested itself again. Credesar entered this world by the same process, and inevitably his soul and body will replace Kelden Delure. The host will be cast into the void forever!"

Theodus grinned--a forced effort done to show his contempt. "So you claim a bonding of souls, and bodies being stored in some void waiting to be called upon. The whole thing is beyond absurd. Even if Jarvin's soul had been able to leave the Shifting, how would his body have escaped?"

"I don't know, exactly," said the sorcerer, shrugging. "But I know that it happened. When Jarvin's soul was removed and placed into the pregnant woman, his body went with her somehow in another state--some kind of alternation process that allowed this to happen. Don't ask me, Dar friend. It is not my field of study and quite possibly completely beyond my comprehension."

Theodus shook his head in disbelief. "I am not sure why you're bothering to tell me any of this, because all it serves to do is amuse me. Did you make most of it up yourself, sorcerer? You need to work on your story-telling skills a bit. There is a lot to be desired, I'm afraid."

The sorcerer nodded. "Think what you wish. I don't care if you believe me or not. But I know that somewhere in your stubborn demon head you realize what I say is true, and that it will be better for this world if Kelden dies."

"I think not," said Theodus. "Your story is full of holes. Who freed Credesar, then? Surely not Jarvin, if the two are now enemies."

"That is a great mystery, isn't it?" said the sorcerer. "Obviously someone let Credesar loose for some purpose of their own. I do know why he is here, however. Credesar entered this world to kill my master's host body. But he miscalculated, thinking he was stronger than my master, that he would be born sooner. The fool! He still remains unborn, locked away inside young Kelden, while Jarvin builds his empire even as we speak. Now, the tables have turned. I am to become the assassin of the would-be assassin! It is all very amusing, isn't it? Are you amused, Dar fiend?"

Theodus was not. "Just confused on many levels. I have a lot of questions that you seem to lack answers to. So what of the other false gods? Can they come through the same way?"

"Thankfully, no," said the sorcerer, his face darkening. "Once the weakness in the Shifting was exposed, the seers patched it up. No one else can come through--which of course suits my master just fine. He alone will rule this world like the true god he is, with no false gods to oppose him. He will bring Blue World here, and at last the two realms will merge into one. Nature will take its course. It is long overdue."

"And the seers know of this?" said Theodus. He knew it was a silly question, since they had allegedly patched the weakness in the Shifting, but he wanted to hear the sorcerer speak it aloud for some reason.

"Of course," said the sorcerer. "They sent your master away to his doom. They knew I was coming to kill Kelden. They believe they can stop Jarvin without any help. They don't want to have to worry about Credesar as well. So I am doing them a favor by killing your master."

"You do a lot of favors," muttered Theodus.

"Yes," said the sorcerer, "I suppose I do. But I'm sure you don't see it that way. Now...I'm wasting energy trying to convince a stubborn Dar fiend like you how important my mission is. If only you could understand the glory of what will be! But you cannot, and so, like the seers, you oppose me. What a tragedy. Now where is Kelden? If you tell me, you'll be saving me the trouble of having to go find out for myself. And I can find out. My master knows Kelden's every move."

"I would sooner take an acid bath than tell you," said Theodus. "So why don't you crawl back to the forgotten pit of hell that spawned you?"

The sorcerer's jaw clenched. He raised his spear, then aimed it at Thayan, who was alert to what was happening but nearly out of his mind with terror. "Speak true, boy," he said. "One false word and I will pierce you."

"He's with the Galds!" Thayan blurted out. "The Galds have him!"

The sorcerer lowered the weapon. His face was stony. "That is most unfortunate. The Galds will torture him in ways that should never be. Why didn't you tell me, Dar fiend? Surely my spear would end his troubles much more painlessly."

Theodus said nothing.

The sorcerer nodded to Thayan. "You have spoken true. Your eyes reveal it. You shall live. I will locate the Galds in the morning when the worms no longer hunt. If by some miracle Kelden still lives, I will finish him off. Goodbye." With that, the sorcerer turned and vanished into the mist.

Theodus and Thayan gazed at each other in silent despair. Then Thayan turned to the wall. His shoulders trembled, as if he might be weeping. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I...couldn't..."

"I understand," Theodus said gently. "He would have found him regardless. This is probably the end of the road for us all, and the beginning of a war that will continue long after we have turned to dust. If what that sorcerer said is true--and my heart tells me it is, though I didn't want to admit it to him--it seems we never had a chance."

Suddenly Thayan sat up, wiping his eyes. A wild, determined look was on his face. "This is how I felt when I was hanging from the West Gate," he said. "I vowed that if I somehow lived, I would go on to change the face of Americk Dreeth. Did the gods hear me? Did they set me free? If they did, surely it wasn't so I could sit here like a coward while others decide my fate."

"Indeed!" Theodus said, smiling. "We will decide our own fate. We will fight together, if need be. If Kelden still lives in the morning, we will set him free. And if the sorcerer attacks, we will die defending my master."

"I don't know Kelden very well," said Thayan, "but I would rather die protecting him than hide out like some coward. I'll stand with you, Dar fiend."

They clasped hands, and some of Thayan's magic seeped into Theodus, opening channels. Theodus felt the immense potential held within Thayan, and he shuddered, realizing that the young man's powerful magic was also infested with rage.

In spite of their vows, they could do nothing but wait. The true rulers of Americk Dreeth were hunting now--the unstoppable worms. Theodus lay listening for them, memories of terror haunting his mind. The worms were the end of all things--the end of all hope, as they had been for thousands of years. Great plans were forged, but they were always made with the worms in mind. Sorcerers waged epic battles against each other--but only when the worms were sleeping in the sprawling factories that had spawned them. Empires rose and fell, but they were always severely limited by the worms, lacking the true ability to expand and thus eventually falling into ruin. Mankind hid itself away beneath earth and stone, seemingly never to walk the land again without terror. In spite of their splendor, the Legaran towers were but small islands of refuge rising from a sea of despair, where the feeding frenzy never ceased.

### Chapter 9: The Galds

The path was marked with ancient Halstarion relics stuck in the ground or leaning against trees, placed to look like humanoids, animals, or spirit creatures. Wires had been strung into hair, pipes formed arms and legs, drums were bloated bellies, and anything black or shiny formed eyes.

They were soon met in the trail by Gald children who materialized from the shadowy woods, their black eyes shining with excitement and curiosity. They leapt around and waved sticks over Kelden's face, their thin bodies looking like spindly insects.

Dameon smiled down at Kelden reassuringly, but couldn't hide the uncertainty in his eyes. Dameon was taking a huge gamble, and Kelden couldn't begin to fathom the mad schemes that were running through his mind. Kelden was being bounced along by a smiling lunatic right into the mouth of doom.

One of the children got too hyper and struck Kelden in the face with his stick. The Gald warrior grabbed him and spanked him before tossing him down. The unfortunate lad ran off down the trail crying and holding his backside, while the other children laughed at him. The stick had left bark fragments in Kelden's eye. The eye twitched and watered miserably as he was carried along.

Kelden caught occasional glimpses of wooden huts as Dameon shifted him around. The former seer was getting tired, his breathing labored. Finally he laid Kelden on the ground and stood panting. "I'm too fat for this," he explained, patting his belly.

The Gald warrior grinned and nodded, giving Dameon's gut a poke. Then he seized Kelden, throwing him over his shoulder. Kelden gagged on the warrior's strange, sour stench, wondering why heaven and earth had turned against him.

They resumed walking again. The Gald began torturing Kelden in sneaky ways. A tug of hair here, a pinch there--mean little attacks the savage undoubtedly found quite humorous.

Like all Gald villages, this one was built in the shape of a spider web, the crisscrossing trails forming the strands, all leading to a round clearing at the center of town--nicknamed the Hub by humans--where everything important took place. Huts were all of the same shape and size, and all were spaced a perfect distance from each other. The Galds didn't believe in expressing individuality, expect for their shaman--the village leader who could be male or female. Because they were just as strong and athletic as the men, women were also warriors, and duties such as cooking and cleaning were shared by all. Unless a female was pregnant, she was expected to hunt and fight alongside the males. The sexes were considered completely equal in all ways.

The Galds gave great reverence to pain and suffering in the name of their gods. Their gruesome artwork was stitched into their quilts and painted on the walls of their huts. Human heads hung throughout the village from tree limbs and poles. Dried skin was tacked to huts. Skulls were placed atop the metal totems to represent sacrifices. And mounds of human bones erected about the village had been made into lairs for poisonous snakes the Galds used in rituals.

They were met by more warriors carrying torches. Some were women, but their body paint and lean forms made them hard to distinguish from the men unless one looked closely. The warriors hummed excitedly to each other and shook spears and clubs toward the heavens.

At the town's Hub, a torch-lit clearing, Kelden was laid on a bed of metal springs. Towering over him was the village god--an enormous piece of technology so ugly and bizarre Kelden was sickened by the sight of it. It was shiny, without a trace of rust, and shaped like an egg; as tall and wide as a bushy pine tree. Part of the outer shell was broken, revealing a repulsive honeycomb of greenish compartments that looked fleshy and alive, integrated with metal parts and transparent cables that shimmered with tiny balls of light that shot through them endlessly. The object made a low humming noise that sounded oddly like the way the Galds spoke. A circle of red lights just below the ruptured area blinked in a steady rhythm.

After speaking to Dameon, the village shaman leaned over Kelden, his lips curled back in an unreadable expression. He was easily the most repulsive Gald Kelden had ever seen. One of his eyes was ruptured and leaking fluid, wounded in a way that obviously never healed. Half of his face had been ripped away by something, leaving a mass of jagged scars, and a piece of shiny metal protruded from his neck. He had a big belly--an extreme rarity for a Gald--covered in wrinkles, and more terrible scars covered his torso. Overall, he looked like some sort of ogre that had been through a hundred battles. His breath smelled like a blend of heavy, nauseating spices, and he was slowly chewing on something--perhaps to release the strange odor.

The shaman carried a metal staff with a red light at the top that blinked with the same rhythm as the circle of lights on the metal god. He waved this staff over Kelden and hummed softly. His two priests, who also had red-stained faces and carried rods with human skulls on them, bowed their heads and seemed to be praying.

When the shaman had finished his ritual, he waved his staff about and spoke very loudly to Dameon. Dameon also spoke forcefully, his eyes wild and fierce. This apparent argument went on for sometime. The melodic humming of their voices seemed to want to put Kelden to sleep, and he had to fight to remain conscious. Finally the shaman and his priests walked away and began their own heated exchange.

"I've won the argument with the shaman," Dameon whispered to Kelden. "He has agreed to heal you. But his priests are dissenting, and he must get one of them to agree or he'll be overruled. Hang in there, boy." Dameon's face was grim, and he clutched Kelden's shoulder in a death grip.

Finally one of the priests lowered his staff and bowed. The shaman spoke to Dameon. "It's settled," Dameon told Kelden. "Because they owed me favors, they've decided to heal you in order to repay their debts."

Kelden could hardly believe his ears. He'd expected immediate torture and death. Could he have been wrong about the Galds, and about Dameon as well?

The healing ritual was a long and painful one. The blood potion of shielding was diminishing quickly, leaving Kelden vulnerable. The shaman repeatedly struck Kelden in the ribs with his staff, hard enough that Kelden feared his bones would break. He kept striking a single spot on the left side of Kelden's rib cage with his staff and humming. The crimson light seemed to warm the flesh deep inside Kelden. Something was being driven from his ribs, a sickening poison that seemed to push into his stomach. He vomited and nearly choked. The shaman rolled him over and, clutching his hair, shook him to clear his breathing passages. Then it was back to striking his ribs.

Later, the shaman poured some vile liquid down Kelden's throat that made him want to vomit again. But the shaman wouldn't allow it, forcing him to swallow it while Kelden gagged in torment. Finally the shaman put his staff against Kelden's foot and sent some sort of electric shock through him again and again. The poison in his stomach boiled and churned, and Kelden got so sick he lost consciousness.

When Kelden awoke, he was lightheaded but felt much better. His stomach seemed soothed, and he found he could move his arms and legs. He still smelled of vomit, and the springs now felt uncomfortable as they pushed into his back, but overall he was greatly improved.

The shaman's work was apparently done, and he stood talking with Dameon. They smiled and laughed as they spoke to each other, like old friends. Kelden was dumbfounded. Weren't these the same Galds who killed and tortured anyone for their pagan gods? Weren't they always scheming and evil?

Overcome with relief, Kelden relaxed on the springs. He felt that everything was going to be all right, at least for now. The Galds would let them leave, and he would have a chance to get to Frindagan and rid himself of Credesar. For the time being, he just wanted to sink into a numb and pleasant sleep.

But moments later a Gald warrior came rushing into the village, waving his spear excitedly. He knelt before the shaman and hummed away. Then the shaman, his priests, and Dameon took to arguing again.

With a groan, Kelden managed to sit up. What was this all about? A dreadful feeling settled over him. He wanted to run, but was still too weak.

Finally Dameon turned to Kelden and spoke, his voice full of bitterness. "Apparently, a blue devil was spotted roaming the forest. The shaman blames us for bringing this evil to his village. He demands a sacrifice as payment. I volunteered, but he refused. He said he wants you, Kelden. Again, I refused. Now he demands that both of us be sacrificed to their god!"

Kelden slumped back down on the springs, the will gone out of him. He wished he'd died while the shaman was trying to heal him. He suspected he was going to wish that much more strongly before this night was through.

***

Theodus and Thayan walked side by side down the trail, Thayan's sorcery ready to be channeled through the Dar fiend if need be. They dared not leave the path, for they could quickly become lost in the forest and end up miles away in some random direction. They didn't have a plan--except to try to somehow sneak into the village. Theodus' ears were sharp and hopefully would alert them if anyone approached, so they could hide behind trees. But deep inside, both of them knew better. The Galds were like phantoms in the woods, lurking everywhere, watching everything. Sneaking into the village would be very difficult for a master thief, let alone two beings who were not stealthy either by training or nature.

"I fear we'll be too late," whispered Theodus. "I should never have left Kelden with that madman."

Thayan shrugged. "It probably won't matter. I doubt we can save them anyway. I'm beginning to regret this decision. I suppose I should have fled as far away from here as possible rather than agree to this ridiculous plan."

Theodus paused in stride, his face twisted with anger. Then his expression softened. "Yes, I understand. Even though Kelden saved your life, you don't owe him anything. He would be the first to tell you that. And you are probably right. We are likely going to our deaths. If you wish, you can flee now. I'll go on alone."

Thayan glanced back down the trail, considering his options, and then shook his head. "My life has been a mess as far back as I can remember. I've never done anything worthwhile. I might as well do the right thing for once, even if it means the end for me." He shuddered, wondering just how painful his death was going to be. Knowing the Galds, it would be too horrific for him to imagine.

Theodus smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "You're not a bad fellow, Thayan. Not at all. It must take enormous courage for you to go with me. Whether we survive or not, you've earned my respect."

Thayan's face lit up with gratitude. Earning a Dar fiend's respect was no easy task. Then, as he remembered what lay ahead, his expression darkened again. "Come on," he said gruffly. "Let's keep moving. I'm anxious to prove to myself I'm not some sniveling coward, even though I acted like one back in the cave."

Theodus nodded grimly. "You'll get your chance, my--" The Dar fiend cried out as a heavy stone slammed into his skull--right against the spot where Dameon's mace had injured him previously--and he toppled to the ground. Caught completely by surprise, Theodus was out cold, blood pooling quickly around his head, the old injury broken wide open again.

Thayan leapt back, as another rock smacked the ground where he'd been standing. He brought his hands up, readying his Ulden magic and knowing it would be a weak attack without Theodus as a link. Ulden magic was more about defense than offense--almost the opposite of Kelden's blood lore sorcery. But this time Thayan channeled all of it into an attack stance, knowing that simply defending himself against the Galds was useless, for sooner or later they would break past his magical shield and overpower him. Instead, he needed to hit them with all he had and kill them quickly.

Seconds later, two Gald warriors slipped down from the branches of a tree and advanced on Thayan. Their black eyes and humming voices instantly took away his will to fight, hypnotizing him. He tried to shrug it off, but ultimately he just stood there, unable to move and gripped by an unexplainable and overpowering fear. He was so afraid he could hardly breathe. The power of the Galds reached into his mind and refused to let him fight back. Thayan felt as if he stood in the presence of gods that could do to him whatever they wished.

I am a coward after all, Thayan thought, as they tied his hands behind his back. But somewhere deep inside he understood the fear that held him in place was not natural, but deliberately induced in him by the Galds for the sole purpose of making him as helpless as a baby.

***

The issue had been decided--the lives of Kelden and Dameon would end in bloody sacrifice and no amount of begging or bargaining would change this fact. But Dameon wasn't going easy. As the warriors advanced on him, his mace flared up with a magical charge, and he killed the first warrior he could reach with a dynamic blow to the head that sent sparks and bone fragments flying everywhere.

Dameon's eyes smoldered with sorcery, and the Galds hesitated before the enraged former seer. "Come forth and die!" Dameon cried.

But the warriors knew better. They could not overcome a seer with their mind powers, and defeating Dameon in combat would cost them many lives. Instead, they stepped aside and let their shaman confront Dameon. The two sorcerers locked themselves into a struggle of wills–gleaming mace against blinking staff. Dameon grunted, his eyes bloodshot and bulging with concentration. The shaman hummed hypnotically while drool ran from his mouth.

Dameon's powers had weakened over the decades from lack of use, and the shaman was strong. Through Dameon struggled with all of his might, it wasn't long before he was driven to his knees, his mace dropping from his hand.

With a frantic, superhuman effort, Dameon broke the shaman's hold and tried to retrieve the weapon, but the warriors rushed in and struck glancing blows to his head with their clubs. Bellowing in pain and fury, he snatched up the mace and swung it wildly and without time to magically recharge it, making contact in a lucky shot and crushing a Gald's shoulder. The warrior dropped to the ground and lay writhing in agony.

As Dameon raised his mace to swing again, a warrior cried out in delight as she drove her club into the back of Dameon's head with perfect precision, tearing a bloody gash. The other warriors clapped and cheered at her well-placed strike, knowing victory was at hand. The warrior who'd struck the blow danced about, humming and waving her arms in glee. Dameon staggered, his eyes rolling back to reveal their whites and his breath wheezing, and then he collapsed.

Kelden tried to get up so he could flee, but he was too weak. He prayed for someone to help--Theodus, Thayan, or even Credesar. But he had a dreadful feeling that only torture and death awaited him now.

Angered by the slaying of their comrade, the other warriors pummeled Dameon with their fists until his face dripped blood even as he lay unconscious. They might have killed him, had the shaman not ordered them with a motion of his hand to cease administering the beating. They bound Dameon ruthlessly tight with thick rope.

Kelden's hopes--if there were any left--sank even further when a company of warriors entered the Hub carrying the bound forms of Theodus and Thayan. It took two muscular warriors to carry Theodus, who lay limp from the ugly head wound. Thayan was unhurt, but clearly terrified as revealed by his pale face and trembling body. Kelden suspected the two had tried to enter the village, probably to save Kelden's life. Now they would be forced to share his fate.

Dameon regained his senses, and, bellowing curses, he struggled to break the ropes; but they were too stout even for his strength.

"Let the others go!" Kelden yelled as two warriors advanced on him. "I'll be your sacrifice. You don't need them." But he knew they couldn't understand him and wouldn't have listened even if they could.

They dragged Kelden to an iron post stained crimson. The post had a series of rings running up either side of it. The ground beneath reeked of decay. Two warriors carried Kelden up the post and then bound his arms to the rings. He was now about ten feet off the ground. His arms were stretched painfully around the thick pole, and he could feel the muscles in his shoulders tearing.

He knew what was happening to him--but in a numb, desperate way. Every moment that crept by was life, measured by the beating of his heart. Living was all that mattered now--trying to survive another second. His brain refused to acknowledge exactly what was in store for him. He gazed at it indirectly as he fought for survival, but dared not look it in the face. Kelden found himself begging Credesar to come forth, for he was certain the demon was his only chance for survival. He noted the irony of it--wishing a creature that he wanted to destroy would rise up and save him. He sent a mental apology to Credesar, hoping the fiend would forgive him and come to his rescue just this once. But nothing stirred within.

Below, the others were forced to watch, except for Theodus, who remained unconscious and would have fought furiously to save his master if awake. Kelden was to be first, and then, one by one, they would get their turn on the post.

Dameon gazed at the ground, apparently defeated.

"He's given up," Kelden whispered numbly. "This is serious." At the sound of his own babbling, a new surge of panic flooded through him. This was serious. He was about to be slowly taken apart.

The shaman and his priests smiled and sang as they rubbed some ointment on the tips of spears. Meanwhile, the warriors danced in apparent ecstasy. Finally, the shaman raised his spear and made a small cut in Kelden's foot. Hot agony erupted in the tiny wound from whatever pain-inducing poison was on the spear tip, and Kelden screamed. The pain was so wretched he hoped he would pass out. But something kept him fully awake, perhaps an evil side effect of the poison. He would find no instant escape from this torture. At the sound of his screams the Galds erupted into hoots and cheers. Their god would feast well this night.

Kelden could have stopped his own heartbeat and ended things quickly. He had the ability, but for whatever reason, he couldn't bring himself to do it. His hatred for the Galds became a taste in his mouth, a heavy bitterness on his tongue. The hatred was beginning to consume him, to drive away the pain. It was a writhing, unnatural force, and he couldn't have controlled it even if he'd wanted to. Suddenly he was able to acknowledge what they were plotting to do to him and his friends. He could stare into the face of it. The Galds would torture them slowly, over hours or even days. Every drop of blood and cry of agony brought joy to their hearts.

As Kelden stared into this reality, his hatred became a destructive force and some sort of portal seemed to open within him. His teeth began to ache for warm blood, and a growl arose in his throat. Chills ran all over his flesh, and goose bumps popped out on his arms. Suddenly he felt prickly, as if covered in hair. His face was twisting in some horrid fashion. Unexpectedly, he threw back his head and let out a booming, inhuman howl. His hatred had mutated him into some abomination, and now all he could think about was tearing into blood and meat and bringing death to everyone around him. He felt the stout ropes begin to snap beneath his sudden and terrible strength. There was no doubt in his mind that soon the village would run red with blood.

"The Arnwolf!" Dameon cried, staring up at him, his eyes wide in amazement. "The Arnwolf has awakened!"

Responding to Kelden's uncontrollable emotions, Credesar was able to rise up inside of Kelden and seize command. Kelden could feel the demon overpower his will, and he didn't fight it, for he believed it was his only chance at survival.

Kelden Delure's world vanished into mist and shadow.

### Chapter 10: Wolf and Demon

As Credesar replaced Kelden's body with his own, he realized something was very wrong. He considered himself to be a respectable creature with manners and class. But now, aside from feeling hatred toward every living thing, he also had an unfamiliar and gnawing desire to kill. If that wasn't bad enough, his face was stretched into some sort of wolfish muzzle and dark hair covered his scaly arms. Somehow, Credesar had merged with another being and had become some sort of ugly hybrid.

As the Paltos fiend dropped to the ground and stood staring at his hairy arms, he wanted to lash out and kill. Credesar was the essence of a nightmare, a bizarre merging of wolf and demon, of scales, hair, horns, and snout. That his once beautiful appearance had become so corrupted drove him into a murderous panic. He roared and shook his head, saliva from his muzzle flying about, seeking to force the intruder from his body. But he was hopelessly fused with the dark magic of the other for the time being. Even his mind was tainted and not quite his own.

For years Credesar had waited patiently for his birth, locked away inside Kelden and growing stronger. Now at last the moment had arrived. He was free of his prison--and this time the seers weren't there to control him and send him back. But his victory was tainted, for he wasn't whole. Credesar glowered down at the Galds, recognizing them from long ago. If he wanted to go on a killing spree--which he certainly did--the Galds were a fine bunch to take his desires out on. Who deserved death more than these savages?

But the Galds had other ideas. They knelt and touched their foreheads to the earth in reverence. Credesar snorted with disgust. The wretched fools thought he was some messenger from their gods. But even though he wasn't in his right mind, Credesar was pleased with this show of respect and his rage subsided a bit, for like all Paltos fiends, he loved to be praised and honored.

Credesar noticed that a bulky former seer lay bound with ropes, his face bearing some gleeful and idiotic expression. A terrified lad also lay tied up. Credesar recognized Theodus from the ordeal in the Sky Chamber of Valganleer. The Dar fiend had regained consciousness and was staring up at Credesar with a look of disgust and possibly confusion. Credesar glared back at the snobbish imp. As far as Credesar was concerned, Dar fiends were all the same--too stubborn and opinionated to be reasoned with.

"Is that any way to stare at your savior?" Credesar said. His voice was now a repulsive growl. Everything about him was coarse and wolf-like, and he could barely endure it. He had a bizarre urge to craft weapons--even though he always fought with his formidable claws and sorcery. He wanted to raise armies and ravage the land--even though such pursuits shouldn't have interested him now that he no longer served the false god Jarvin. It took all of his willpower to hold himself in check and not go on an immediate killing spree.

"You haven't saved anything yet," said Theodus. "By the way, you've changed a bit. In a very ugly way. Not that you were a pleasing sight to begin with."

With a howl, Credesar leapt toward Theodus but stopped short. He was boiling over with rage, but he had no wish to harm a fellow demon--especially a helpless one. "Watch your tongue, Dar fiend," he seethed. "I know I'm different. But how has this happened? Why am I covered in hair like a beast?"

"How should I know?" said Theodus. "Get us out of this village, bring my master back, and maybe I can figure it out for you. In case you hadn't noticed, we're in a bit of trouble here. I'm not really in the mood for conversation."

"I think I know how you've changed," Dameon said. He was wide-eyed with a mix of glee and madness at the sight of the monstrous fiend.

Credesar strode over to Dameon and lifted him into the air. Dameon turned his head to one side, clearly overcome by the fiend's foul breath. "Speak quickly, seer," Credesar growled. "As you well know, I'm not fond of your kind. And I'm not myself lately. I'd feel no remorse over tearing off your head."

Dameon's feet hung well above the ground. He was a towering man at seven feet, but Credesar was over a foot taller. Dameon looked weak and frail in comparison, as if he could be torn to shreds in an instant. Credesar knew how intimidating he must appear--especially in his present condition--but he was dealing with a former seer, and it would take a lot to scare the truth out of this fellow.

"The Arnwolf has merged with you," Dameon said. "It's a creature from another realm, accessed by a rare and powerful magic that blood lore sorcerers sometimes manage to awaken after years of work and sacrifice. They can change themselves into a wolf-like monster and gain temporary power that way. Only a truly extraordinary seer can maintain control once the merging of man and Arnwolf occurs. But Kelden is far too young and uneducated. It should never have happened!"

"But it did happen," Credesar said, still holding Dameon in the air.

"Yes," said Dameon. "I saw it come forth. Kelden has become the Arnwolf. And somehow that magic bonded with you, and now you have merged with it."

Credesar shook the big man as if he were weightless. "How do I reverse it? How do I return to who I once was? Speak quickly, for my mind betrays me!"

Dameon shook his head. "I...I don't know. This has never happened before. It's completely new territory. The implications are astounding. We'll work with you to find out. However, the Galds intend to sacrifice us to their god. Save us and I swear we'll do whatever it takes to restore you!"

Credesar ripped apart Dameon's ropes and shoved him down. "You'd better keep your word, seer. Or next time I'll tear you to pieces!"

The shaman and his priests looked confused and took to arguing. Seeing his chance, Dameon stumbled over--still groggy from his head wound--and spoke to them. Meanwhile, Credesar freed Theodus and Thayan. Theodus seemed calm enough, but Thayan thrashed about while Credesar worked to free him, causing the fiend to become enraged and shove him away so hard Thayan tumbled head over heels.

Dameon and the shaman held a long conversation. Meanwhile, Credesar was growing weary from battling the Arnwolf's will, and his hold on Kelden began to slip, as the young human stirred within. Both creatures were exhausted, and Credesar decided to give up the fight--hoping the Arnwolf wouldn't be there the next time he awoke. He had a feeling the Arnwolf was hoping the same thing. Their merging had been a surprise to both--and neither would allow it to happen again if they could avoid it. For now the two beasts had run out of energy and Kelden had become the strongest force, backed by his blood lore sorcery.

"You have a stout will, young Kelden," Credesar mused aloud. "Stronger than you probably realize. And your sorcery shows promise. Too bad you won't get a chance to develop it."

The last thing Credesar saw before he slipped away was the lights on the towering piece of technology change from a blinking red to a steady white.

### Chapter 11: The Guide

When Kelden regained consciousness, he was utterly confused. Unlike the first time Credesar had come forth, this time he had no recollection of what had taken place. He'd been completely out of it--which meant Credesar had seized control of him more thoroughly this time without the seers to interfere with the process. But it was obvious things had worked out favorably, since he and his friends were now untied and Dameon was conversing with the shaman in a relaxed, friendly manner.

Kelden felt much better--light on his feet and fully healed. One moment he was hanging from a post getting tortured, and now he stood free and uninjured, ready to flee from the village and never return. It was an amazing turn of fortune. But his apprehension remained, for they were still amongst the Galds and anything could happen.

Theodus and Thayan were on their feet. In spite of his head wound, Theodus stood with his usual dignified and confident look. But Thayan still appeared shaken, and whenever his eyes met Kelden, his horror and amazement were evident. Clearly, he now thought of Kelden as a monster, and Kelden wasn't sure that was far from the truth. But he was puzzled as to why Credesar had not destroyed the entire village and killed everyone.

Dameon approached Kelden and smiled. "We're in luck, my friend--thanks entirely to Credesar. The shaman believes their god favors us, and plans to let us go. He wants you to partake in a brief ritual, and then we are free to leave."

"What happened?" said Kelden. "I can't remember anything. I was on that post, and then...things went dark."

As Dameon explained, Kelden listened in open-mouthed amazement. "Are you saying that Credesar struck a deal with you?"

Dameon grinned. "Indeed. He agreed to spare our lives and help us escape, as long as we would help him separate himself from the Arnwolf. The fiend was perfectly rational and willing to bargain. Extraordinary!"

Kelden took to pacing. "How could this happen? The Arnwolf? That's impossible. I'm no seer. Last I knew, I was tied up and getting poked with knives. Then..." He struggled in frustration to remember. He still felt exhilarated over their turn of fortune, but was overcome with confusion and anxiety that made his stomach feel sick and weak. For the Arnwolf to emerge, something terrible and strange was happening to him. Credesar was growing stronger, causing a bizarre evolution of magic. He desperately needed to get to Frindagan Tower and complete his quest before he transformed completely and was lost forever.

Kelden grabbed Dameon's arm. "We need to leave!" he said, panic surging. He glanced about. A full yellow moon had risen, next to a smaller, crimson moon, beneath which lay a savage scene. The warriors were dipping their fingers in red ink, rubbing it around their eyes and mouths to symbolize blood. They looked like flesh-eating zombies in the shadowy torchlight. Meanwhile, their chanting was repulsive, the vibrations making Kelden's stomach want to heave. Raw fear churned within him.

Theodus and Thayan nodded in agreement. "This village is beyond repugnant," Theodus said. "Let us leave at once and never look back."

"Not yet," said Dameon, motioning toward the shaman and his priests. The shaman had pulled a long, shimmering cable from the giant metal egg. Balls of white light shot continuously through the cable, and the end of it came to a shiny point as fine as a needle. "We cannot leave until Kelden partakes in the ritual."

As Kelden gazed at the fiery cable hanging out of the monstrous piece of machinery, he shuddered. "I don't want any part of this ritual. I just want to get away from here now. I've had enough of this place! They were going to torture me to death...and...and..." He couldn't finish, thinking that a short time ago his body had been taken over by a demon. It was almost too much to bear.

Dameon placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know you are quite distraught and confused, but try to stay calm. I guarantee you the Galds will no longer harm us. The shaman simply wants you to communicate with his god, in order to gain wisdom. Perhaps nothing will happen. At the worst, you may have a few dream-like visions that will probably be meaningless."

"You don't really know what will happen," said Kelden. "Admit it. That's some terrible piece of old world technology, not a god. Anything might happen to me. This is crazy, Dameon."

"I know you won't be harmed," said Dameon. "The shaman himself undergoes this ritual from time to time, and has--so he claims--been instructed with survival techniques and magical secrets. He has not been harmed, and neither will you be. Just get it done with, and then we can get away from here and figure this all out."

Theodus stepped forward angrily. "I must protest this! I nearly had my brains bashed out, and my master was about to be tortured to death. We owe these devils nothing. And old world relics are forbidden."

Dameon sneered. "You're not in Valganleer anymore, Dar fiend. We're on a quest for survival. We make our own rules out here."

"But Theodus is right," Thayan spoke up. "We owe these savages nothing. We should leave at once. I can't bear it here any longer!" Thayan appeared on the verge of falling apart completely, his body shaking and his eyes wild.

"I'm not fond of this village of horrors either," said Dameon. "But I for one am not going to go against the Galds' wishes and make them angry. Will you shun their sacred ritual, Kelden? It may cause the Galds to become enraged, and put us all in danger once again. If we are to survive, we must cooperate with them."

Kelden sighed, feeling thoroughly disheartened by terror and helplessness. "I'll do it. Don't worry about it, Theodus. Obviously, they're not interested in killing us, since we're not tied up. Everyone just stay calm!" He practically shouted the last statement in an effort to reassure himself.

The shaman motioned for Kelden to come to him. Kelden wasn't sure he could force his legs to carry him to that destination. The energy cable seemed like a deadly serpent in the shaman's hand, something venomous and alive. The lights on the metal god glowed a hypnotic white, and pulsed in time with Kelden's heartbeat. The fleshy pockets within the machine were cast in a greenish glow. The entire object seemed like a living creature, and had Kelden not been taught about old world devices at Valganleer, he might have believed he was indeed in the presence of a god.

"Go to him," Dameon commanded. "Go now!"

When Kelden still didn't respond, Dameon seized him and shook him furiously. "You better move it along, boy, or they're going to crack down on us hard. We won't be walking out of here alive!"

The former seer's words penetrated Kelden's fear and drove him into motion. He trudged over to the shaman.

The shaman pushed Kelden to his knees and rubbed some ointment on the back of his neck. The priests held his arms. Kelden closed his eyes, trying to steady himself. But his insides were like boiling acid. His mind was overwhelmed with unexplained images and confusion, wrapped in a web of terror. But there was a new strength in there as well-- a force of will he hadn't possessed before, something that had just begun to grow. He was aware that he'd changed somehow on a deeper level.

Kelden felt a pinch on the back of his neck, and then warmth flooded through him. Colors flashed in front of his vision, and he suddenly experienced a deep, engulfing sense of peace and purpose. Suddenly, everything was right with the world, and all things seemed to lead to a good end. A tunnel of light opened before him, a path that led to the source of the peacefulness and the answer to everything.

Kelden left his body and floated along the tunnel, certain he would never return. He'd found his place in the universe and no longer needed to be part of the ugly and simplistic world he was leaving behind. Images of his life drifted past, shedding away. All his sins were forgiven through understanding. He'd been a simple man who'd done his best, and he could no longer be imprisoned by mortal burdens. Piece by piece, the chains of his life broke away, and his sense of lightness and freedom grew stronger as he moved deeper into the tunnel.

A guide awaited him at the tunnel's end, a cloaked and hooded figure that stood before a pulsating orb of light. As Kelden drew close, he knelt down, certain he was in the presence of the all-knowing creator.

But the guide motioned for him to rise. Kelden obeyed, because one did not refuse the command of a vastly superior entity.

The two faced each other in silence for a time, as Kelden basked in the peace and warmth. And then the guide spoke.

"Welcome," it said.

"I'm glad to be here," Kelden answered. His voice seemed spoken from all around him.

"Good," the guide said. "Do you like my home?"

"Yes," said Kelden. "I want to remain here forever."

"Of course," said the guide. "And why wouldn't you? You want to feel good, don't you? You want to be at peace. Is this true?"

"Very true," said Kelden.

"You are drunk," said the guide. "Drunk on energy. Drunk on vibrations and the number three. The three great forces of everything, like three strings on an instrument. It is playing your tune, Kelden Delure."

"I feel it," said Kelden. "I will never leave here again."

"You can stay if you choose," the guide said. "But know this--you would be lost forever in an endless dream."

"I would die, then?" said Kelden. "Is that what you're saying?"

"Not exactly," said the guide. "Death is not a single, simple thing. There are many paths to many strange destinations. There is no core to the universe, but many cores. Diversity creates contradictions, so that no single answer is correct. Would you die if you remained here? Not in the way you are familiar with. You would be consumed by an endless illusion, a lone candle burning in the highest window of a darkened keep, untouchable even by the wind. You would slumber and dream, never to be awakened even after the cycle of the void has ended and begun again."

Kelden shuddered, and his peace was shattered. He now understood that even the brightest room could be a dark dungeon in disguise, that lack of awareness was a terrible limitation and the only true prison one could ever be snared in.

"I cannot remain here," Kelden said.

"Indeed," said the guide. "You are a human--a seeker of knowledge. Your mind was built to expand, not to be shut away in dull comfort. You must go forth and learn, expand your consciousness, and evolve into a greater entity."

"Show me the way back," said Kelden.

"Not yet," said the guide. "First, there is something I must tell you. The Galds are my children. They came from beyond your world, nestled within their shiny metal eggs. They watched humans and studied them, learning how a race evolves from savagery to science. But eventually, my children were driven to war!"

Kelden gasped. There was agony in the guide's voice.

"Humans would not allow for peace," the guide continued. "They harvested our technology and made it their own. They created the worms that destroyed the world. Their own horrible weapon turned against them, so that Gald and human alike fell into ruin. Eventually, only a few Galds remained, and they became savage and forgot the ways of science. My children were corrupted and lost their awareness. Humans did all that--and more. They created the worms through their abuse of technology, and now no one is safe in your world."

"We must stop the worms!" Kelden said, inspiration gripping him. "We must save your children from this terrible fate. How can I help?"

"There is a device," the guide went on, "called a mind soothe. There is only one, and it is being held in a Legaran fortress called Iragantheos--the lonely tower. The false god Jarvin has entered your world, and now sits upon the throne of this keep. He is amassing technology to use to his advantage, and is building an army. The mind soothe has fallen into his possession. However, it is unlikely that he knows what the device is used for, since it did not come from your world and is very complex. But Jarvin is crafty and has access to forbidden energies. He will, in time, unlock its secrets."

"I can't go there," said Kelden, as memories of his life resurfaced. "I have a demon inside of me. I must go to Frindagan and have it removed."

"You'll do as I command!" the guide hissed, and for an instant its presence became dark and terrible. Kelden shrank back.

Then the guide's tone softened, and peace flooded through Kelden again. "Do not be afraid. Your path now lies in a new direction. You can live in harmony with the demon, for the time being. It will not destroy you. It is not the malevolent presence you were led to believe. And gaining possession of the mind soothe is more important than the quest to free yourself of Credesar. The mind soothe can restore awareness to my children, which is the key to defeating the worms."

"Then I will find it," said Kelden. "For the worms must be defeated, or there is no hope for my world."

"No hope at all," the guide agreed. "The worms will never allow humanity to rest. And even worse, they may evolve and become even stronger. They are a virus and have the ability to change and adapt. They are a species that should not exist, for they can destroy all life. The minds that created them were short-sighted and corrupt, and their ignorance is responsible for the deaths of millions."

"Who are you?" said Kelden. "How do you know these things? Are you truly a god?"

"I am ancient," the guide answered. "I am just a conscious being like you, seeking awareness and knowledge. I am linked with certain bits of technology. The mind soothe is a part of me. I know where it is, but I cannot retrieve it. And my children are too simple-minded to help. You, however, have potential. You are just beginning to tap into your abilities, and with a bit of help, you might be able to penetrate Iragantheos and gain possession of the mind soothe."

"I will try my best," said Kelden.

"You must take ten Gald warriors with you," said the guide. "And these ten must be protected at all costs. Once the mind soothe is in your possession, you must bring it to me. And then my children can at last be freed from the curse that makes them so primitive and repulsive. Do not fail me, Kelden Delure!"

Kelden started to say something more, to try to reassure the guide that everything would turn out okay, but he felt a pinch on the back of his neck and then he was falling swiftly through the void into darkness.

### Chapter 12: The Road To Murakan

Kelden felt as if he'd just awakened from a dream that lingered like a phantom fog in his mind. A small, itchy bump protruded from the back of his neck, but otherwise he seemed intact. The shaman had placed the fire cable back in the giant egg, and the lights on the metal monstrosity had changed back to a blinking red. The greenish glow in the fleshy compartments was gone, leaving only shadow.

Kelden related his experience to Dameon, who translated it to the shaman. The shaman gathered his ten best warriors, but then a whispered warning passed throughout the village that worms had been spotted. The Galds extinguished the torches, and a foul incense was lit around the village to persuade the worms to hunt elsewhere. Kelden and his companions were ushered into an empty hut. After that, the village stood dark and silent. The Galds even had a concoction to prevent snoring.

Exhausted, Kelden's companions quickly fell asleep. But Kelden lay awake restlessly for hours pondering his fate. The realization that he now carried not just one--but possibly two\--monsters inside him was almost more than he could bear. The Arnwolf was barely controllable for a seer, and Kelden was a mere infant in the art of blood lore. It seemed entirely possible he could permanently mutate into some nightmarish thing. His situation was so bizarre that even Dameon couldn't understand what he was going through. He felt like a pawn of much greater forces that were using his body for their own purposes.

Somehow, Kelden finally found sleep, but there was no peace--only a wave of nightmares, most of which he would mercifully forget when he awoke.

***

The next day was warm, beams of sunlight shining down through the tree branches. They ate a quick breakfast and then were escorted from the village by the shaman, his priests, and a large company of warriors. Theodus retrieved Kelden's items from his hiding spot, and they were set to go.

Ten warriors armed with spears joined Kelden and his friends, and with no further ceremony, the shaman bid them farewell and returned to his village. Dameon took the ten warriors aside and spoke to them while Thayan and Theodus looked on with open disgust. Kelden struggled with the idea that they hadn't really escaped the Galds if a band of warriors was coming with them.

Even though Theodus and Dameon were both groggy from head wounds, the pace was steady for a while. But Thayan eventually took to complaining and finally refused to journey with the Galds altogether. It was as if he'd been fighting a battle within himself that he'd finally lost. "Either they leave, or I do," he said, sitting down in the road defiantly. "It's bad enough traveling with..." He stopped short of mentioning Kelden.

The ten warriors, still bearing red ink around their eyes and mouths, stood with puffed-out chests and gazed at Thayan with contempt, as if they understood his words. Thayan glared back. "Animals!" he muttered.

Patiently Dameon explained why they did in fact need the Galds, but Thayan shrugged it off. "That's all nonsense," Thayan said. "The Galds just want to go with us to see what they can gain. They're still playing tricks on us. The shaman stuck that cord in Kelden's neck to fool us. His visions were nothing but a lie."

"The mention of this mind soothe device," said Dameon, "doesn't seem to be a trick. Remember, the Galds don't know what technology is actually used for. Besides, why should you care where we go or what we do?"

"I don't care," said Thayan. "I'm just trying to survive. And I was hoping you would teach me a thing or two, since my lessons at Valganleer are done with forever."

"I'll teach you many things," said Dameon. "And your chances of survival in this land are much greater with us than alone--even with the Galds as company. Especially with the Galds as company."

"There are places I can go," Thayan said with forced confidence. "Underground cities, small towns. Survival on my own isn't impossible."

"True," said Dameon. "But don't you relish the challenges and possibilities that lay before us? No path is safe in this land, but at least if we stay together we have a chance to do something worthwhile, to learn and grow. Your future is full of potential. Don't waste it living in some underground pit slaving away just so you can patch a hole in your trousers or eat some stale food. Is that how you want to live?"

Thayan's face looked troubled. "I suppose I'll stay the course for now. But don't expect me to trust these grey devils, or do anything to save them if they run into trouble. They need to just stay out of my way."

"We're supposed to protect them, Thayan," said Kelden. "They're the key to defeating the worms." His own words sounded foolish to him--almost laughable. Did he really believe what he was saying?

"Oh, please!" Thayan spat. "You believe that nonsense? Look at you. There's some horrible thing inside of you. Can you even trust your own judgment? Nothing good came from our stay in that village. You turned into a monster, and then got your brain scrambled by some huge piece of old world technology."

Kelden didn't answer. He swallowed and gazed at the ground, feeling hideous beyond words. Thayan's gaze held so much judgment and malice that Kelden couldn't help but feel like a monster.

"I trust Kelden's feelings on this matter," said Theodus. "My master knows what he saw, Thayan. I don't like the Galds either. And I'm certainly not fond of straying from our original quest. But if there is a chance that all this craziness is true, we simply must take it. I've always felt the Galds had potential of some sort." Theodus looked away, unable to hide the doubt in his eyes.

"I already said I'll go along with it," said Thayan. "But I'm not sleeping anywhere near those devils or...or you, Kelden--not until you get rid of that fiend inside you for good. I'm not sure I can trust anyone in this group."

"You can trust me," said Theodus, extending his hand. "You proved your courage in risking your life for my master."

Thayan hesitated, his dark hair hanging partially over his face and obscuring his expression. Then he shook Theodus' hand. "And I trust you, Theodus. But you're the only one I trust, and the only one I respect." His sullen eyes met Dameon's.

Dameon smiled. "Yes, I've not yet earned your respect or faith. But I will, in due time. True, we seem like a company of fools falling for Gald tricks. To anyone else, we might even appear mad. But bear in mind that I have the wisdom and power of a seer. Where I walk, destiny follows. The events in the Gald village speak of tremendous possibility. A shadow of change has fallen upon this land."

"We'll see," Thayan muttered. "You're not much of a seer anymore. I think you're just crazy. You latch onto something and you think it's the right thing to do. Like blowing up Valganleer Tower. What happened to that idea?"

Dameon frowned. "What makes you think I've forgotten that? If this mind soothe device actually exists and can restore intelligence to the Galds, they would be a powerful threat to the seers. My goal could be accomplished without having to kill innocents."

"Are you gaining a conscience?" Thayan sneered.

Dameon glowered at him. "I'm a man of conscience, boy. And don't you forget it! But I've also been shut away in a cave for a hundred years."

"Is that why your judgment is so poor?" said Thayan.

Dameon grabbed Thayan, yanked him into the air, and shook him viciously. "My judgment is fine, you little wretch! And if you question it again, I'll snap your neck!" Dameon's eyes blazed with fury. He began choking Thayan.

Thayan's eyes widened and he tried to fight back, but he was no match for the giant former seer. Kelden grabbed Dameon's arm and tried to pull him off, but Dameon's muscles were locked in place and unmovable. Theodus yanked on the other arm, but even the Dar fiend couldn't loosen Dameon's grip. Finally a Gald warrior joined Theodus and together they pulled Dameon off of Thayan. The other Galds grinned.

Thayan fell down, clutching his throat and wheezing. "What did you do that for? You...you tried to kill me!"

Dameon's face burned crimson with rage and embarrassment. "Next time you question my judgment, boy, I will kill you."

Kelden sighed and shook his head. He exchanged a look with Theodus. "What a fine bunch we are," he said. He nearly laughed at the absurdity of it all. "What are we doing, Theodus? Where are we going?"

"To get that mind soothe thing the Galds want," said Theodus. He gazed at Kelden with a matter-of-fact expression.

"Am I being led astray by the Galds and their old world technology?" said Kelden. "Have I fallen victim to something I've been warned against my whole life? And what about Credesar? What should we do?"

Theodus shrugged. "You're my master. Where you lead, I follow. I must assume you know what you're doing."

Kelden grimaced. "Enough with that, Theodus. I want a straight answer from you. What do you think of my decision to do what...you know...what my vision told me to do? Should I stick with it?"

"Very well," said Theodus. "I think you're being a fool and have chosen a path that leads to ruin. But otherwise you know exactly what you're doing."

***

While they walked, Theodus and Thayan told the others about their encounter with the Blue World sorcerer in the cave. Dameon seemed all too willing to believe what the sorcerer had said, while Kelden was skeptical, knowing that a creature like that wouldn't hesitate to lie.

They stopped in a field for a lunch of jerky, bread, nuts, and dried berries. Dameon took Thayan aside and they talked for a while. Finally they shook hands, apparently having made their peace. Later, Dameon led Thayan off behind some trees to begin his training, the choking incident seemingly forgotten.

Kelden felt a petty annoyance that Dameon was taking special interest in Thayan, as if Thayan were the most important member of the party and not Kelden. But on the other hand, Dameon's sorcery was corrupted by the use of Halstarion technology and couldn't be trusted. Still, Kelden wouldn't have minded learning a few things. His training at Valganleer had been in its infancy when he was sent away, and as with all sorcerers, a taste of the magical arts left one with an endless craving to learn more.

The Galds were tireless, ever alert to dangerous creatures and mud traps. By the time the party stopped for dinner, they had slain a deer and gathered a heap of mushrooms. They cooked a delicious stew even Thayan couldn't help but indulge in. The warriors seemed ever cheerful and optimistic, ready to leap up and get things done. Their work ethic created a sense of security that anything could be accomplished. Kelden realized he was lazy and inept in comparison. Even Theodus had to give a nod of approval. But Thayan did his best to avoid benefiting from their talents and constantly shot them spiteful looks while muttering under his breath.

Three days after leaving the village, tragedy struck. One of the warriors took a gleeful interest in a rusty metal pipe half buried in the mushy ground. He pulled it up and peered into an end of it as if seeking treasure, only to scream and recoil as a fat two-headed snake popped out and buried fangs in his cheek. It was a costly mistake, one that such a cunning warrior shouldn't have made. Moments later the Gald lay twitching on the ground from the deadly venom, foam bubbling from his lips.

Dameon urged the warriors to help him, but the other Galds refused to give him aid because of his stupidity, and they turned their backs on him--once again reminding the others of their savagery. Dameon worked furiously on the bite, trying to suck out the poison. Finally he gave up and rose, wiping sweat from his brow, a sigh of frustration on his lips. The poison was too strong and too quick, and soon the warrior gave a final shuddering breath.

The other Galds knelt and painted green symbols on his body. Then they captured the snake from the pipe, painted a symbol on each of its heads, and let it go free, while Kelden and the others looked on in bafflement. After that, they laid the pipe on the warrior's chest and folded his hands over it. They left him to rest there forever with his rusty treasure, his bulbous black eyes gazing into the heavens.

The travelers moved on with heavy hearts, sickened that one of the supposedly precious ten had been struck down so easily and foolishly.

In his dreams that night, Kelden felt the weight of his burdens crushing him. He knew that the monsters inside him would tear him to pieces if he didn't find a way to continue his training and evolve into a greater being.

Each night after that, Kelden's dreams were filled with despair. His days were spent in a sullen silence even Theodus couldn't penetrate. He was losing control hour by hour, the dark magic squirming in his stomach like a ball of snakes. Dameon whispered advice to him, telling him to be strong--that things would balance out within him. But Kelden didn't believe it, and he wasn't sure Dameon did either. This was something new and complex that even the seers could not understand.

Terror lurked within Kelden and around him. He knew the Blue World sorcerer would strike again, and he had no idea how he would survive. The Galds were fierce warriors, but he wasn't sure the entire company was a match for that devil. More than likely, the sorcerer would wait for an opportunity and then strike Kelden down--just as he'd done before. And this time there was no shielding potion to protect him. The others stayed in a protective circle around Kelden most of the time, and he was always watching the trees, wishing they were away from the woodlands and in open terrain.

"I'm not going to make it," Kelden said, as they sat having dinner beneath an enormous pine. "Sooner or later that spear is going to come out of nowhere again and get me." He rubbed his chest, his tired eyes gazing into infinity. He knew to the others he must appear as if he were coming apart, but he didn't care. The stress and terror had left him empty of pride.

"Not if I can help it," said Theodus. But he looked doubtful.

"The Blue World sorcerer can be defeated," said Dameon. "He is flesh and blood, just like you and me. The Galds are great protection against him, as they can sense his presence and take advantage of his weaknesses. I don't think he has been tracking us since we left the village, or the Galds would have alerted us. Yet sooner or later we'll have to confront him, and I think we'll be ready."

"How can we be ready?" said Kelden, shaking his head in disbelief.

"In the process of training Thayan," said Dameon, "I'm rediscovering many of my own skills that have been unused for a long time. And you're growing stronger, believe it or not. No man could bear such burdens and not be changed. Also, we have nine of the fiercest Gald warriors you could ever find. We cannot think of ourselves as victims. We must be the aggressors!"

Kelden sighed, feeling anything but aggressive. Dameon's wise words rang hollow for him. He was getting tired of the former seer's unshakable optimism. Dameon seemed more clown than seer, a maniac spouting words of hope but ready to plunge off the deep end at the slightest provocation. Kelden was afraid to oppose him, afraid of being choked like Thayan had been. Meanwhile, he continued to wait in dread for the gleaming spear to pierce his heart.

***

Over the next few days, dark clouds rolled in across the plains, bringing rain showers, wind, and fog. Kelden hated the fog, for it offered concealment to his would-be assassin. The heavy mist closed like walls around them, until they could hardly see more than a few yards in any direction. The tall figures of the Galds slipped in and out of the mist, always watching for danger, always hunting--offering Kelden at least a little peace of mind. But nevertheless his back always felt exposed, and his chest ached at the thought of cold metal piercing his flesh. It seemed like he was being driven mad with torment thinking about it.

But Kelden's worst fear was that he was losing his very soul to the monsters inside him. His nightmares had become so disturbing that Dameon made him take a concoction made from mushrooms and roots each night that would keep him silent in his sleep. Yet Kelden felt strangled by the potion and often thought he was dying or that Dameon was choking him in his sleep. It left his throat sore and his voice hoarse during the day. He strongly questioned the vision he'd experienced when attached to the fire cable in the Gald village. It wasn't too late to go to Frindagan and save himself as the seers had intended. Fear of Dameon's wrath had kept him quiet about it for a while, but he'd reached the point where he no longer cared.

"I'm thinking I'm going to Frindagan," Kelden told Dameon, as they trudged along the muddy, fog-shrouded road. He waited for the explosion of anger that was sure to result, his hands poised to protect his neck. A steady rain was falling, and they were all soaked to the skin and sullen.

"Understandable," said Dameon, in a calm tone. "But ill-advised. You cannot ignore your vision, Kelden. At the time, it was powerful and you knew what you had to do. Don't be fooled now by your own fears. You know the truth."

"I don't know anything," said Kelden. "I was somehow hooked to a machine and shown something that could have all been a dream of my own making--or a trick. The Galds are capable of anything. If we don't go to Frindagan, and the seers were right, then Credesar will destroy me. I'll be dead and the land could be in peril from that demon. We don't know that Credesar is actually honorable. He may be up to his own tricks. How can I ignore these dangers?"

Dameon sighed. "You cannot--and should not--ignore them. But the seers have been wrong about many things. I should know, for I was one of them once. I would trust your vision over the seers' judgment. That great metal hulk was alive, Kelden. You must have been able to sense it. It's a magnificent being, wise and ancient beyond even the eldest seer. I find it hard to believe such a being would ever lead us astray. It instructed you because it sensed the power within you. You were the one it had been waiting centuries for. How can you ignore that?"

Kelden threw up his hands in frustration. "I can't ignore either scenario. That's my problem, Dameon. If I make the wrong choice, it will be a disaster. Right now I'm thinking we can go to Frindagan first, and then to the lonely tower."

"Impossible," said Dameon. "By then the mind soothe could be destroyed or bent to some evil purpose by Jarvin. You must trust your vision, Kelden. I know in my heart it was the truth. Deep inside, you know it as well."

Kelden considered this, but shook his head. "I really don't know, Dameon. But I'm fairly sure I must get to Frindagan. I can't live like this. It's driving me insane."

"I agree," said Theodus. "My master bears too great a burden, Dameon. And the Blue World sorcerer continues to hunt him. If Credesar isn't separated from him, he'll surely perish. And I do not intend to let that happen!"

"We should at least speak to the seers," said Kelden. "As much as you hate them, they might have the answers we seek."

"They have no answers, Kelden," said Dameon. "They want whatever serves them best. Anyone who thinks otherwise is a fool."

"I've made up my mind," said Kelden. "We're going to Frindagan first. You're too willing to believe anything, Dameon. You see only what you want to see."

"I face up to the truth," said Dameon, his voice taking on a cold tone. "I do not hide from it, no matter how strange, unpleasant, or unlikely it seems."

"Enough," said Kelden. "I don't want to hear another word about that vision. I can't believe I ever even considered changing course over this. I feel like a fool--but now it's done with. I'm heading for Frindagan first."

For an instant Dameon's face darkened, and Kelden shrank back, certain the former seer was about to seize his neck with his huge hands. But then Dameon's expression relaxed. "I have another idea, Kelden. Tower Road will take us to the underground city of Murakan. I know a former Thelaran keeper who lives there. She turned her back on the order, but refused to take her life in spite of keeper law and now profits from her knowledge. She has become an oracle, and for a fee, she will reveal that which is yet to come. She is seldom wrong in her predictions. Her name is Ellistar. Have you heard of her, Kelden? And if so, would you trust her?"

Kelden had indeed heard of her. As far as trusting her, he wasn't sure. "We don't have any money. The seers didn't give me so much as a coin. They didn't want me to visit any towns--and probably for a good reason, if you know what I mean."

"She'll help us for free," said Dameon. "For my sake. I was once a good friend of hers, long ago, when we were both at Valganleer. Actually, we were lovers at one time. She still harbors feelings for me. I'm sure of it!"

"Like you were sure the Galds wouldn't harm us?" said Thayan, daring to mock the former seer yet again.

"No, more sure than that!" Dameon growled. "I know her well. And there's no risk involved in speaking with her. What do you say, Kelden? We may be able to steal some money and buy Altan bulls to ride. Or maybe we could steal the bulls themselves. Remember--we need those bulls once we get deep into the Tembros plains."

"That's true about the bulls," said Kelden, sighing. "We do need them." Usually only seers or very rich men rode Altan bulls. They would have to steal a lot of money to buy even one. It would be less risky to sell one or two of his precious items, and Kelden was none too fond of stealing, even for a worthy cause.

"Many rich folks live in Murakan," said Dameon. "With our skills, we could steal all the money we care to. We could each have our own bull. Imagine how fast we would travel on the backs of Altan bulls!"

"Let's do it!" Thayan said excitedly. "I'd love to steal. We'll rob that city blind. I can't wait to put my new sorcery to use."

"I, for one, won't steal anything," said Theodus. The Dar fiend shook his head in dismay. "And I shudder to think I might be in the company of thieves."

"So what do you say?" Dameon asked Kelden, ignoring the Dar fiend. "If you want to get to Frindagan, we have to go that route regardless. I say let's visit Murakan and then decide from there. At least we can get the Altan bulls."

"Not unless we work and pay for them," said Theodus.

Dameon shot Theodus an annoyed glance. "We're on a very important mission, Dar fiend. Your master's life may depend on how swiftly we travel. If we must steal for the greater good, so be it."

Theodus didn't answer but gazed at the ground, looking conflicted.

"I'll probably just sell something," said Kelden. "I don't like this whole stealing business you've come up with, Dameon. I'm not sure I should go near any towns, though. What if something terrible happens?"

"Credesar could have destroyed the entire Gald village," said Dameon. "Instead, he chose to help us. He's clearly not the killer of legend."

"And don't forget," added Theodus, "that we spoke with the Blue World sorcerer. He told us that Credesar had betrayed Jarvin and had come here seeking Jarvin's destruction. That's why the sorcerer is trying to kill you, and if he succeeds, Credesar will be destroyed and will no longer be a threat to Jarvin. Otherwise, why is the assassin bothering to try to kill you?"

Thayan laughed mockingly. "Not confusing at all, right? Do we really understand a thing that's going on here?"

"Maybe he's trying to kill me," said Kelden, "so Credesar will be freed from me to go serve Jarvin like he used to. That's what the seers believe--that my death could free the demon and he will then become Jarvin's link again."

Dameon shook his head. "I now tend to believe your death wouldn't free Credesar, but would destroy his physical form--his fiend body--thus leaving him as a relatively harmless wild demon once again. He's bonded with you so strongly that he shares your body, and there has to be dire consequences to such a sudden separation of two beings. That's the way life works. For whatever reason, the seers got this completely wrong. I'm certain of it."

"Never mind--we'll visit the city," said Kelden, wanting to sink into the earth like the coward he believed himself to be. "I can't take any more of this. I need to do something soon, or I'm going to lose my mind. But what about our nine warriors? I doubt the people of Murakan would take kindly to a group of Galds."

"They certainly would not," Dameon agreed. "The Galds will have to find a suitable place to camp outside the city. Murakan is defended by Gelshad fighters, who would kill any Gald on sight. Moreover, we would draw great suspicion to ourselves if we were even seen in the company of the savages." Dameon smiled and patted Kelden on the shoulder. "You won't regret this decision."

Kelden looked away, unconvinced.

Later that same afternoon, as they sat down for dinner amidst some boulders, Dameon announced they would camp there for the night.

"But we have no tent," said Thayan. "And the rain isn't letting up. We'll be miserable without at least tree branches overhead to offer shelter."

"I'll persuade the Galds to build us a shelter," said Dameon. "They'll gather wood and bark quickly from whatever trees they can find and make a fine hut for us to sleep in, and not a raindrop will touch us."

"What about a bit of training?" said Thayan. "I'm up for it."

"Tonight we rest," said Dameon. "My legs hurt." He cleared his throat. "I've got strange spots on them that itch and ache. I think I picked up a disease, when I stepped in a mud hole during our journey. I knew something was wrong, because the reddish muck burned my skin."

Thayan looked away to hide the troubled look on his face. "Don't go dying on me, Dameon. At least not until you've taught me everything you know."

"I have no plans to die," said Dameon. "Not with so much at stake. Right now I'm just experiencing some pain and discomfort. We'll continue the training tomorrow." He groaned and rubbed his thigh.

"Sure," said Thayan, gazing at Dameon's legs. "Get some sleep. If you lose your legs, I'm not carrying you. You're too fat."

"Get some sleep yourself, boy," Dameon said gruffly. "Don't be concerned about it. I've faced a lot of hazards in my lifetime, and I'm still walking tall." But Dameon's face was darkened with a shadow of worry.

### Chapter 13: The Hijackers

The next day, Kelden couldn't stomach breakfast. Just like the ailment in Dameon's legs, Kelden's disease could have come from anywhere in a landscape full of unseen hazards. The mere thought of food made him want to vomit.

Kelden took out his vials of Ulsef blood and gave one to Dameon. But it did nothing for either of them, leading Kelden to believe the Ulsef blood was spoiled or missing some key ingredient. His stomach churned, his head ached, and his entire body felt encased in lead. Knowing he'd inevitably feel worse if he didn't eat, he forced himself to swallow a few pieces of meat and somehow kept them down.

Then began a thoroughly miserable day of travel for him. The fog continued to shroud the land and the rain held steady. Kelden walked like a zombie, each heavy step causing a pounding wave of nausea. His senses seemed anything but sharp. He had to keep stopping to visit the bushes.

"What a lucky bunch we are," said Thayan, laughing. "Foul weather, diseases, assassins throwing spears. We're truly blessed!"

But luck seemed to be with them for once, as a long, barrel-laden wagon pulled by a pair of Gragas beasts soon caught up with them. The Gragas beasts were by no means swift creatures, being bulky with short legs, but they kept a steady pace that was faster than a man's best stride. They were shaggy animals with long, dour faces and horns that curved downward. Their manes hung like thick brown carpet strands, looking almost like cotton or some other woven fabric.

Strangely, the Galds didn't alert the company to the wagon's approach. The nine warriors were off in the fog somewhere, undetectable.

The wagon driver was a thin man with long black hair and a bushy beard. He wore plain clothes that indicated nothing, since most travelers tried to appear poor so bandits might let them be. He drove the Gragas beasts by tickling them periodically with a feathered staff--a sensation the beasts found far more inspiring than the crack of a whip.

He stopped the wagon. "What is this?" he boomed out, grinning. "A Dar fiend, a former seer, and two young men with the look of sorcerers. What a strange company this is. You're not bandits by any chance?"

"Certainly not," said Theodus.

"You speak rather boldly," said Dameon, pointing his mace at the wagon driver. "And to speak boldly to strangers is always a gamble."

The thin man's face paled. "I meant no disrespect, friend. I was just curious. I guess I'll be on my way, then."

"And why not?" said Dameon. "You've already insulted us. You might as well ride off in your wagon and leave us to walk. My friend is sick and can hardly get around, and my legs are burning with pain. So why bother helping us?"

The man lowered the feathered tickler, his hands trembling. "I didn't mean it that way. It's just my manner of greeting people."

"It sure sounded insulting," said Thayan. "What do you have in those barrels back there?"

The thin man glanced behind him nervously. "Just ale. Poor quality. Not really worth the trip, even."

"Well, be on your way then," said Dameon, motioning him along. "What are you waiting for? Like I said, we don't expect any help from you."

"Wait," said Kelden, glaring at Dameon. "What are you doing? I wouldn't mind a ride. Can we ride in your wagon, sir?"

The thin man shook his head, looking stricken. "I...I don't have any room back there. The barrels take up all the space. I'm just a poor merchant."

"Then maybe you should dump a few," said Thayan. "Or is your ale more important than our welfare?"

"Not at all," said the merchant. "But my shipment is bound for Murakan. It's a long journey, and I need to be paid."

"Of course," said Dameon. "Your greed is all that matters to you."

Kelden started to protest, but Dameon clutched his arm in a painful grip, warning him to be silent.

"We need your help, merchant," Theodus said. "We aren't thieves. We don't want your ale. We only ask that you make space for us so we can ride to Murakan. My master is sick and shouldn't be on his feet."

"I'm so terribly sorry," the wagon driver said. "But this ale--all of it--must be delivered or I won't get my money. I need money to feed my family."

"It's your choice, merchant," said Theodus. "But leaving us to walk when we're ill and facing the threat of worms at night is quite immoral."

The wagon driver shrugged helplessly.

Dameon sighed and tapped his mace against his palm. "We don't seem to be getting anywhere. It has been a rough day, merchant, and I'm cranky. Upon further reflection, I feel... Well, to be perfectly honest, I feel like crushing your skull."

"Dameon!" Kelden protested in disgust. Kelden was so sick that he desperately wanted to ride on the wagon, but not by forcing the issue. He felt as if he were in the company of rogues and didn't like it at all.

The driver glanced about, looking for a way to escape. But Dameon and the others blocked the road, and the Gragas beasts were gentle and wouldn't trample them. Finally, the driver raised his hands pleadingly. "Please, just let me be on my way. The worms! I need to reach the Wheel Rocks by nightfall."

Thayan laughed and glanced at Dameon. "Sure. We'll just let him be on his way, and we can keep plodding along like miserable fools. He gets to sleep underground tonight, while we scrounge for the meager shelter of boulder or tree. Or maybe we'll just catch a ride anyway, unless he thinks he can stop us."

"Please, please!" the merchant moaned. "My children need food."

"Enough with your sorry begging," said Dameon. "I'll leave it up to my friend here. It's his decision to make." He gazed purposefully at Kelden.

Kelden glanced at Theodus. "What do you think?"

"You're my master," said Theodus. "I go where you lead. However, I don't approve of us forcing our will onto others."

Kelden nodded, then fixed a pleading gaze on the merchant. "Can you dump off a few barrels, good sir, and then we'll pay you back for them when we reach Murakan? We're really quite desperate here."

The merchant shook his head.

Dameon's face darkened. "Enough of this! We're riding--"

With a bellow, the merchant reached behind him, pulled out a crossbow, and fired it at Dameon. But the former seer was prepared, his mace shining with a sorcerous glow. The arrow deflected off an invisible barrier, throwing up blue sparks.

"I'll kill you for that!" Dameon snarled. He charged the wagon, seized the merchant, and hurled him to the ground. He raised his mace for the deadly blow.

"Don't kill him!" Kelden cried.

"Spare him!" Theodus yelled.

Thayan simply watched.

Dameon sighed and lowered the mace. "I suppose I'll spare your life--though you would have taken mine. As payment for your murderous attack, I'm seizing your wagon and all the goods within."

"You can't do that!" the merchant cried. "My money. I need my money. I have a wife and children. I need my money!"

Theodus pulled the man to his feet. "Enough. You'll get your money when we get to Murakan, and nothing will be lost. All we ask for is a ride in your wagon, and that you don't try to kill us again. Haven't you heard of road courtesy? Travelers in need must come first. Now will you show some honor and do the right thing?"

"You had no right to attack Dameon," said Kelden. "You could have killed him!"

"I felt threatened," the merchant mumbled. "I reacted on instinct."

"It was still cowardly," said Kelden. "Nevertheless, we are not going to take your ale or anything like that. We just want a ride."

The merchant nodded and blew his nose, new calculations forming in his beady eyes. "I...I suppose that's fair enough, my friends. I'm sorry for lashing out like that. I thought you were bandits."

Dameon laughed. "I'm sure you did. We look just like a party of bandits. Why, the Dar fiend could be our leader!"

The merchant squirmed. "Sorry."

"You're a fool," Dameon muttered at the cringing man. "To needlessly attack a former seer is not wise. What were you thinking? And be truthful!"

"I was thinking..." The merchant hesitated. Then he shrugged. "Very well, I was thinking you look a bit heavy in the belly, that your reflexes are probably slow. And I'm an expert marksman."

Dameon nodded. "So you thought I was too fat to save myself--that you could sneak one in on me and take me out? Well let me tell you something, you sorry little wretch! I don't give second chances. Try anything like that again, and I'll smash your face into pudding!"

The merchant gazed at his feet, saying nothing.

"Let's leave him to walk," said Thayan. "As he would have done to us."

"No need for that," said Dameon, shooting Thayan a concerned glance. "We cannot allow ourselves to become heartless. The merchant will ride with us in spite of his murderous act."

"I was only joking," said Thayan.

Dameon's gaze lingered on Thayan, his face furrowed in thought. Thayan smiled. "Really, I was only kidding, big fellow. We got the wagon. We don't need to leave him stranded. Sheesh! I can't understand your thinking sometimes, Dameon."

"I'm training you, Thayan," said Dameon. "I don't want to create a monster and have that on my conscience for the rest of my life."

"Don't worry," Thayan mumbled under his breath. "I won't turn out like you."

"What did you say, boy?" Dameon snarled, his eyes wide.

"Nothing," said Thayan. He walked away.

Dameon rubbed his thigh and winced. "Wretched legs. Every time I get my blood pumping, the pain flairs up."

"Quickly," said Kelden, holding his stomach. "Clear me a space back there, Theodus. Make it big enough so I can lie down. Ugh! This sickness is wretched. Why did the seers have to go and give me spoiled Ulsef blood? It's not fair!"

Dameon nudged Kelden in the ribs. "Keep your eye on that merchant," he whispered. "He intends to kill us whenever he gets a chance."

Kelden nodded weakly. "The story of my life. Everyone wants to kill me when they get the chance."

Theodus' bat ears perked up. "Someone is moving toward us through the fog. It's the Galds. How will we find enough space for them?"

"Galds?" The merchant shuddered. "What do you know of the Galds? Tembros spare me! Orphealla cast your light on me!"

"That's right, merchant," Thayan laughed. "We travel with nine Gald warriors. So remember that when you lay down to sleep tonight."

"The Galds will continue on foot," said Dameon. "They are tireless and swift. Also, if we encounter soldiers from Murakan--or from anywhere else--it wouldn't bode well for us to be seen in the company of those savages."

Dameon ordered Thayan to sit up front with the merchant to keep an eye on him. Meanwhile, the others stretched out amidst the heavy oaken barrels. Kelden lay wedged between barrels, lost in his sickness but relieved he no longer had to walk. As he lay there, his fear over the Blue World sorcerer was diminished. He was almost too sick to care about that threat, and the barrels seemed to shield him (even if it was a false sense of security). He wondered how deep his illness ran. It felt like a common ailment, and so he wasn't too concerned yet. But there was always a chance it could get worse, so he began his meditations that would release his healing sorcery. It was slow but powerful restoration that would cure most diseases.

Kelden wanted to fall asleep but could not. Finally he struck up a conversation with Dameon just to distract himself from his misery. "Assuming we decide to go there at some point, how will we ever get into Iragantheos? If the lonely tower is truly controlled by Jarvin...it just seems impossible."

"Yes, it does," Dameon agreed. "But we have to trust in our destiny. Right now we are lost in the darkness, trying to find a way. But things are becoming clearer. It is possible that after thousands of years, a solution to the worm plague will be found. If your vision contained truth, it is well worth the sacrifice of our lives--and even the lives of many others--to gain possession of the mind soothe."

"But Halstarion technology is never to be trusted," Theodus said. "Otherwise, the seers would not have forbid interacting with it. Can't you see the folly in this?"

"I cannot," said Dameon. "Yes, some old world machines are evil--many, in fact. But there is truth to be found amidst the lies, and my instincts tell me that creature in the Gald village--that great hulk of living metal--is different, wise and caring. It may not be a Halstarion creation at all but a device from another realm, perhaps from out amongst the stars." He waved his hand heavenward. "Who knows how many worlds like this one harbor living beings out there? Regardless, I think that creature is something greater than what the Halstarions could have produced, and probably much older than anything from that age. Certainly the seers wouldn't see it that way. They would avoid it, or try to destroy it. And thus the closed-minded fools would never learn from it."

"But what about Jarvin?" said Kelden, changing the subject back to topics that concerned him more. "How can he be stopped?"

"We cannot stop his plans," said Dameon. "We are nothing to him. His quarrel is with the seers. Our goal is to sneak in, get the mind soothe, and depart. Anything else is far beyond our powers--even with Credesar on our side. And yet our goal is far more critical than defeating a false god."

"But Jarvin hates me," said Kelden. "He's trying to kill me!"

"No," said Dameon. "He hates the fiend within you. Once Credesar is separated from your body, Jarvin will have no interest in you."

"Of course," said Kelden, feeling a surge of optimism. "Then I must go to Frindagan first. I must get rid of Credesar, before Jarvin's assassin kills me."

"I disagree," said Dameon. "Credesar's power is strong. I'm not sure we can breech the defenses of the lonely tower without him. Do you want to go into such a dangerous place with only your meager blood lore magic as protection?"

"No," said Kelden. "But I don't want a cold spear in my back, either. And right now the danger from assassination seems more immediate and real."

"Then learn to harness your power," said Dameon. "You can draw energy from Credesar. That much is obvious. Otherwise, you could never have summoned the Arnwolf. That sorcery should have been well beyond your capabilities."

"What do you mean?" said Kelden.

"It's very simple," Dameon replied. "I believe Credesar's energy has enhanced your own magic, allowing the Arnwolf to emerge decades before it should have. However, you cannot control the Arnwolf. Therefore, you must concentrate on the magic you can control. You have barely used your sorcery since you left Valganleer. You have not meditated. You have not trained."

"I don't have a teacher anymore," said Kelden. "It's too dangerous."

"Bah!" said Dameon. "A weak excuse. Life is full of danger--especially for you. Evolve, or perish. That is the choice you are faced with. You need to put aside your fear, and ignore the warnings the seers planted in your mind. It is time for you to reach deep within and call upon the power that is now yours to command. You must do it! Otherwise, I doubt we will succeed, and I am certain you will be dead long before we reach either the lonely tower or Frindagan."

Kelden lay back and sighed. "I was only making conversation. I'm going to Frindagan. Whether or not I undertake your mad quest after that will remain to be seen. But unless you find a better way to convince me, I won't be going to Iragantheos at all."

"You may change your mind," said Dameon, "when we reach Murakan. You will then cease to think of me as some mere crazy fool and start to realize my wisdom."

Kelden raised his eyebrows. "What makes you think that?"

Dameon did not reply

***

That night they camped in an underground lair beneath a stone outcropping. The shelter was furnished with barrels of water, food, and blankets--kept well stocked by travelers. Those with goods to spare left some, and those who had need of goods made use of them. It was a system of honor that worked well, since even the lowliest thief would not steal from a stone shelter along the Tower Road. These lairs were too important. Everyone had to work together to survive the worms.

The wagon driver, whose name was Rudus, groaned in horror when he learned that nine Galds were to sleep in the shelter with him. "They'll kill us in our sleep," he kept repeating, in spite of Dameon's reassurances. Finally, knowing he had no choice but to tolerate the savages, Rudus slumped down against the cave wall, his face looking stricken. Meanwhile, sensing his terror, the Galds shot him devilish looks that promised pain and death, their bulbous eyes shining hypnotically.

Kelden was feeling a bit better, and he tried to do as Dameon suggested, meditating on drawing forth his supposed hidden energy. But his mind was full of fears and other distractions, and at first he only succeeded at calling up his blood lore magic. The flow of energy soothed him and made him more focused. He noticed immediately that his sorcery felt stronger than it ever had before, easier to control, as if he were channeling it through Theodus. But Theodus sat on the other side of the room, his yellow eyes fixed on the stone steps that led above ground, watching for anything that might threaten his master.

In amazement, Kelden moved the energy around inside him, guided by the flow of his blood. He picked up a stone and squeezed it, channeling the sorcery into it. The stone crumbled into bits. He gazed at his hand in shock, while Rudus watched with wide eyes. His touch had become deadly. He wondered what would happen if he channeled that power through his link.

"How did you do that?" Rudus asked.

"Mind your own business," Dameon said harshly. "Turn your gaze elsewhere."

Glowering, Rudus did as he was ordered.

"I crushed a stone!" Kelden said. "Did you see that?"

"But how?" said Theodus, sitting up straighter. "You were not linked to me."

"Do not speak of it," said Dameon. "That knowledge is yours alone, Kelden, and others need not know about it."

"My master is not the secretive type," said Theodus. "Do not try to isolate him, Dameon. I see no harm in him telling us of his progress."

"There is harm," said Dameon. "Telling secrets diminishes one's power and reveals weaknesses. Kelden cannot afford to be an open book. If one of us were captured, and tortured, his abilities would be known to his enemies." He shot Rudus a glance. "But now we must speak of these things no more, when in the company of those who lack honor."

Rudus grimaced but said nothing.

Kelden lay awake for hours after that, meditating and manipulating his power. When he fell asleep, he dreamt that he could punch through stone and bend steel. His fears vanished, replaced by exhilaration and a sense of freedom. His training ran on in his dreams.

***

Kelden felt much better the next day. The rain and fog remained, and he stayed hidden amidst the barrels, so that no vital part of him was exposed. He found himself wondering if his would-be assassin had given up, for surely the Blue World sorcerer would have found an opening to strike by now, especially with all the mist making an ambush easy. However, Kelden knew his stalker was patient, and such patience had nearly paid off for the assassin once before. But Kelden didn't dwell on such thoughts much, preferring instead to contemplate his new powers.

Yet when Kelden tried out his magic again--this time on a small iron hammer that lay in the back of the wagon--he couldn't summon the energy to damage the tool. Apparently, the iron was too strong to break, which showed that his power was still quite limited. Disappointment settled over him after that (the depression that all sorcerers experienced when they failed to see their skills progress) and the stone-crushing episode lost its luster.

It was nearly lunchtime when a Gald trotted up to the wagon and reported to Dameon that another wagon, accompanied by several armed men on Altan bulls, was approaching from the direction of Murakan. The wagon was driven by a huge, armored warrior and a Hetheope guard.

Dameon hummed orders back to the Gald in their odd language, and the warrior quickly vanished back into the mist. He then ordered Rudus to halt the Gragas beasts, while he decided what action to take.

"The wagon driver must be Renstad Tamanus," Dameon said. "The former Gelshad fighter and gladiator from Murakan. He is a legend in that city, and known all around Americk Dreeth. He commands the city guard. They say his will is invincible, that he once battled a Halstarion worm and drove it off--which, by the way, I don't believe for a second, but it shows what people think of him to make up such nonsense. He is a killer of unmatched skill."

"How do you know it's him?" said Kelden.

"I don't," said Dameon. "But it certainly could be him. He rides in a wagon pulled by Altan bulls, and is sometimes accompanied by a Hetheope. And Hetheopes are rarely found outside of the Legaran towers. Only a few great warriors are allowed the honor of having a Hetheope as a personal bodyguard. I would bet that it is Renstad who approaches."

"What should we do?" said Kelden.

Dameon shrugged. "I'm not sure. We did hijack this wagon, sort of, and we could face arrest and punishment for that. However, we could take a gamble and reveal our situation to Renstad. I've heard he is an intelligent, reasonable man. If we could win his favor, he could offer us much badly needed help."

"I don't like your gambles," said Theodus, glowering at Dameon. "You are too reckless and arrogant."

"My reckless gambling saved your master's life," Dameon pointed out in a harsh tone. "And that is a fact you cannot deny."

"I say we confront him," said Thayan. "If we have to fight, we might win. We're not a group of weaklings, after all."

"Speaking of reckless," said Theodus, "you need to tone it down a bit, Thayan. An attitude like that will get us all killed."

"We should bear in mind," said Dameon, "that Kelden is still being hunted and in grave danger, that we have few resources and an extremely dangerous journey ahead of us. Right now we are isolated, surrounded by the fog of confusion. Aligning ourselves with a powerful figure like Renstad the Red Axe could give us hope of actually surviving this madness and perhaps figuring out a solution."

"I see your point, Dameon," said Kelden. "But even though Rudus tried to kill you with a sneak attack, we kind of took his wagon by force, as you said. If we end up in a dungeon, well...what then?"

"Then we're in trouble," said Dameon. "But even now our quest is in peril. When you had your vision, Kelden, a path was suggested to us. But no guarantees were given that we would succeed. The future remains unwritten and can be altered. We have some powers at our disposal, but overall we are weak compared to the forces that await us. We need to gain mighty allies if we are to have even a slight hope of getting our hands on the mind soothe."

"The mind soothe," Theodus mused, shaking his head. "How casually you speak of something that you know nothing about--as if your plan is perfectly logical."

"Logical or not," said Dameon, "we cannot carry it out alone."

"Undoubtedly," said Kelden. "But we can travel to Frindagan Tower alone, if need be. And that's where I'm going. So with all due respect, could you refrain from mentioning any other quests? I need to get that demon out of me, Dameon. That, first and foremost, is my goal. If I get stuck in chains somewhere in Murakan..."

"Think about what you say," said Dameon. "Your words have a selfish ring to them. You are only thinking of your own fears and not the greater good."

Kelden sighed. "Yes, I am. I don't want to mutate into a monster, never to be human again. I don't want a sorcerer's cursed spear stuck in my flesh again. Yes, I am thinking of me, Dameon! I can't take this strain much longer. Besides, the seers ordered me to go to Frindagan. And in spite of everything you say, I still have some faith in them."

"Fool!" Dameon spat. "Trust the vision you had in the Gald village. Trust your instincts. But do not trust the seers, who are selfish and corrupt."

"Fine words," said Theodus, "from the man who would have destroyed Valganleer and everyone in it. Who is the selfish one?"

Dameon hung his head. "Yes, for many years I dreamt of bringing down that tower. But I have been doing some thinking since I left my cave. I understand now that what I was contemplating was wrong. I would have killed innocents just to get at the seers. That way of thinking is what has plagued humankind throughout our history. I admit that I was misguided. But I still don't trust the seers!"

Theodus nodded. "I am impressed--if what you say is true. But I find it hard to believe you have changed your thinking so quickly."

"Believe it," said Dameon. "I spent so many decades alone in the cave that my mind was overcome with darkness. Now I am returning to how I used to be, becoming the man I was long ago. I understand that we must all put aside our fears and wants and think of the greater good."

Kelden sighed. "I'm not sure I can."

"I have faith in you," said Dameon. "You have endured a terrible burden, and yet you retain your conscience and sanity. You are a strong man, Kelden."

Dameon's words made Kelden feel good, and he found himself wanting to act like the man Dameon thought he was. But he still had no intention of straying from his path to Frindagan. "I guess if we got this Renstad fellow on our side," he said, "I would be a little safer for the time being. Maybe he would have his soldiers escort us northward."

"You would be a lot safer," said Dameon. "Renstad is a foe that even a Blue World sorcerer would hesitate to tangle with. And his men are a fierce and skilled bunch."

"He will likely arrest us," said Theodus.

"Leave that to me," said Dameon.

"Great idea," said Theodus, rolling his eyes. "The last time we left things to you, it nearly got us all killed."

Dameon slammed his fist down and groaned. "Yes, I made a mistake. But things turned out for the better, and Kelden is alive. How many times must I be reminded that I nearly got us all killed? I did what I said I would do! I saved Kelden's life. Must I be chastised again and again for it?"

"Talk to Renstad," said Kelden, wearily. "Whatever the result, we'll deal with it. I'm sure if I tell him about my mission to get to Frindagan, he wouldn't dare oppose it. I'm sick of going it alone. Let's get some help."

"Jail might help Dameon," said Theodus, "but I myself could do without it."

"We're not going to jail," Dameon said.

"Perhaps not," said Theodus. "It might be the gallows instead."

### Chapter 14: The Face of Death

The Altan bulls broke through the mist--giant brutes with copper-colored horns and metal-plated armor. Muscles rippled all over their bodies, and their dark eyes were fierce and sullen. Bred originally for warfare, they were now mostly used for swift travel by anyone who could afford the luxury. Six bulls advanced on them, each bearing a heavily armored fighter.

The wagon came next, with a huge warrior--as large as Dameon--holding the reigns. He wore rune-covered plate mail and a horned helm, and a blood-red axe was at his side. His beard was dark and long, his eyes were like blue ice, and his skin was ebony black. At his side was an even more intimidating figure--the giant, bull-man form of a Hetheope. The creature held a tree-trunk sized club with spikes pounded into it. Metal tips were strapped to its horns, and a golden ring hung from its nose.

Certain they had made a terrible mistake, Kelden shrank back. But Dameon stood boldly in the road, a smile on his face.

"What's this?" growled the huge warrior. "Why do you block my path?"

"They hijacked my wagon!" shouted Rudus. "They're in league with the Galds. They must be arrested, your lordship."

Dameon raised his hand. "Now hold on a moment. Are you Renstad of Murakan, the great warrior I've heard so much about?"

"I am," said Renstad. His blue eyes were calm, with just a hint of sullenness. "Did you hijack that man's wagon?"

"We did," said Dameon. "But as you can see, we're no ordinary company of thieves. I'm a former seer. And we travel with a Dar fiend. Yes, we forcefully borrowed his wagon. But we're on a very important mission and time is vital."

Renstad stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Do you know that piracy is punishable by death in the jurisdiction of Murakan?"

"I do," said Dameon. "But we're not pirates. We stole nothing. We--"

"They dumped some of my ale," said Rudus. "May the gods curse them for that!"

"Do not speak of the gods," Renstad said, glaring at the merchant. "That too is forbidden by law. You are an Orapheallan monk. I can sense it."

"Very well," said Rudus. "But these rogues broke a major city law in robbing me. They should be punished to the full extent of that law."

"We needed a ride," said Dameon. "Again, time is vital."

"So is the law," said Renstad. "And it appears you've indeed broken it, since you don't deny it. I'm on my way to Valganleer and can't take the time to bring you to Murakan for trial. Therefore, you'll travel with us to Valganleer, and then back to Murakan to face your punishment."

"We can afford no delays," said Dameon. "The seers of Valganleer sent us on this journey."

"We'll ask them about it when we get there," said Renstad.

"We can't go back," said Kelden, his hands trembling in desperation. "We need to reach Frindagan as quickly as possible."

"Why?" said Renstad, his gaze burning into Kelden.

"We can tell you in private," said Dameon.

"My men are trustworthy," said Renstad. "Speak what's on your mind, and fear not. And you better speak quickly!"

Dameon hesitated, sighing. "It's a complicated affair. It would sound absurd if I just blurted it out. It's a long story that requires we sit down in a quiet place."

"Nonsense," said Renstad, raising his eyebrows. "Here I sit. Tell me of your mission and why it's so important. Tell me now!"

Dameon shifted about uncomfortably. "Very well. The seers sent us to Frindagan because the fiend Credesar has found his way through the Shifting and has entered this world. Once we reach the tower, we can destroy the fiend."

Renstad's face didn't change expression. "Credesar, you say? And how will you destroy him?" He uncorked a jug and took a swallow.

Dameon cleared his throat. He pointed at Kelden. "The demon will be drawn from my friend here and sent back to the Shifting."

"The demon is in this man?" said Renstad, nodding toward Kelden. He took another drink.

"Yes," said Dameon.

Renstad raised his axe. "Then why travel all the way to Frindagan? I could take care of it with a single blow, here and now."

"You could," Dameon said. "But that might only release the fiend, and we would all die. Only the seers of Frindagan can safely remove Credesar."

"I see," said Renstad. "How convenient. What a twisted tale you spin. Were you not a former seer, I'd already have stuck you in shackles and smacked you a good blow for your lies."

"I speak no lies," said Dameon. "But I have another grim truth to reveal. Even now, Jarvin the false god controls Iragantheos Tower. Did you know of this, great warrior?"

"I must admit," said Renstad, "that I did not. But why should I believe anything you say? Obviously, you were banished from the towers--disgraced. Why would the seers send you on a mission?"

"They didn't send me," said Dameon. "They sent Kelden and the Dar fiend. Those two found me by blind luck, and now we travel together."

"This all sounds ridiculous," said Renstad. "I'm guessing you're an odd band of outcasts and thieves, and possibly even crazy enough to think you can fool me or defeat me in combat."

"Then arrest us," said Dameon. "Be done with it. But I tell you now that if we were thieves we would have fled into the fog. I stand before you, risking my freedom and possibly even my life, because so much is at stake."

"So it appears that what you want," said Renstad, "is for me to abandon my important mission to Valganleer, escort you to Murakan, and give you any assistance you might need. Is that right?"

Dameon nodded.

"Okay," Renstad said, shrugging. "I was supposed to transport a dangerous prisoner from Valganleer back to my city, but it seems I've found a few equally dangerous--and much more interesting--ones. The seers can wait. We'll return to Murakan at once. I'll hear the rest of your tale and then judge you. If I find you to be liars, you'll all be hung from the neck until dead for wasting my time. How does that sound?"

Kelden's eyes widened, and he exchanged a glance with Theodus.

"I'm not sure about this," Thayan whispered.

"We do not lie," said Dameon. "And thus, we have nothing to fear."

Renstad studied him with narrow eyes, clearly intrigued. "Seer, you and the demon man will ride on my wagon. Your friends will have to be locked in my cage back there, but it's comfortable enough."

"Agreed," said Dameon, breathing a sigh that might have been one of relief.

***

Once again the weather turned foul. Thunderstorms swept the plains, and the fog grew thicker than ever. Kelden, Dameon, and Renstad sat exposed to the storm, while the others, including the Hetheope (so he could keep an eye on them) sat in a large wooden holding cell in the back of the wagon. Kelden felt terribly vulnerable, for the fog was like a closed fist about him, and the Galds were apparently not there to protect him--unless they could keep pace with Altan bulls, which was unlikely.

"Tell me more of your situation," Renstad said. "As of now, I've not yet taken you prisoner. Now's the time for you to make your case."

"First of all," said Dameon, "Kelden cannot be exposed like this. He's being hunted by a Blue World sorcerer and has already nearly been assassinated. I suggest he be allowed to sit in the back with the others."

"A Blue World sorcerer?" Renstad raised his eyebrows. "I guess that sounds as farfetched as anything you've said. But Kelden will have to take his chances and remain beside me, where only a fool would dare attack him. And it's not a pleasant day for talking, but you'd better tell the whole story from the beginning if you expect to win my favor."

When they were done explaining the situation, Renstad shook his head in amazement. "Quite a tale. I've never heard the like of it. But you've caught my interest. You see, shipments and prisoner transports to the lonely tower have ceased within the last year, and the whole keep has taken on a heavily fortified appearance. Although secrecy is typical for Legaran towers, it has reached extreme proportions around Iragantheos. I've been there twice this year, and found a dark and most unwelcome atmosphere. The gates were guarded by Bromathites--berserker giants--that are seldom used these days by the seers because of their uncontrollable tempers."

"Then you believe us?" said Dameon.

"Not yet," said Renstad. "But you've definitely got me thinking. However, I can't believe the seers wouldn't know that one of their precious towers has fallen to a false god. It has never happened before. It's unbelievable!"

"The seers undoubtedly are aware of Jarvin's threat," said Dameon. "But as you know, Renstad, they often choose to deal with problems on their own so that others are ignorant of their failings. They would not request aid from the cities unless the situation were looking hopeless for them. They're too proud, too sure of their power, to admit to such a horrendous mistake as losing one of the Legaran towers that have stood unconquered for so many centuries."

Renstad nodded. "True enough. But I need some kind of proof." He nudged Kelden. "You say this man holds Credesar within him, and that Credesar may not be the evil creature the seers think he is. Well, how can you prove it? Can you draw him out so that I may speak to him?"

"I cannot," said Dameon. "Somehow, Credesar is linked to the Arnwolf of blood lore, and the same dark emotions that summon the Arnwolf also summon the Paltos fiend. At least, that's a vague guess on my part."

"I must have some proof," said Renstad. He blew a whistle that seemed to make no sound, and soon a huge raven settled upon his shoulder. "Nevnos here is my spy," he said. "I knew about you before you knew about me. Nevnos is a tower raven, a creature you're no doubt quite familiar with, Dameon." He whispered in the raven's ear, and the raven made some odd clucking noises. Renstad frowned.

"Is something wrong?" said Dameon.

"Indeed," said Renstad. "A company of Gald warriors lurks in the fog close by. They're following us, using fog, boulder, tree, and grass to hide themselves. Did you make some bargain with them and are now trying to escape them? Speak quickly, seer, for my patience is all but worn away!"

Kelden opened his mouth to talk, but Dameon cut him off. "Yes, I made a bargain with them. They're Kelden's protectors. He wouldn't have survived without them. They've been instructed not to enter Murakan, as you might expect."

"A man who makes deals with the Galds," Renstad mused. "And yet you expect me to believe your story?"

Dameon gazed at him defiantly. "Ignore my words at your own peril, warrior."

Renstad whispered in the bird's ear and the raven soared away into the mist. "Nevnos will go to Valganleer and bring word from the seers on whether or not at least part of your story is true. For now, I'll assume it is, since it's too important to ignore. Once we reach my city, I'll report this to Tannis, the city master--an honorable and fair-minded man. He'll decide what to do."

"And what of Rudus?" said Dameon.

Renstad waved his hand indifferently. "A fair merchant leaves room for others in his wagon who might need help. He's obviously greedy and selfish, and such an attitude isn't welcome in a land where travelers depend on each other for survival. If all turns out well and your tale is proven true, I'll compensate Rudus myself for his lost ale."

"Thank you," said Kelden.

"I'm not doing it to be kind," said Renstad. "If Jarvin plans to make war on the seers, Murakan will be high on his list of targets. The city has vast resources, and men who can be bought for the right price. And as sworn protector of Murakan, it's my duty to take all threats seriously and deal with them accordingly."

Renstad stared hard at both of them. "But again, if you've lied to me and wasted my time--and worse yet, made me look like a fool--you'll pay dearly!"

"Your instincts know better," said Dameon. "Inside, you feel we speak the truth. You've smelled change in the air and seen a shadow fall over the land. You cannot deny this. A cunning warrior like yourself is not fooled so easily."

Renstad looked away, his face troubled. "That's enough talk. You seers always try to sway minds with your whispers of doom. But I'm swayed by evidence. Murakan is still a few days of travel from here, and we'll have plenty of time to discuss these things."

***

As they drew to within a half-day's journey from the city, near some rocky cliffs, Renstad warned that the Galds should travel no farther. But when Dameon whistled for the savages to give them instructions, they didn't show themselves.

A gloomy, nagging mood settled over Kelden. It didn't seem like the Galds to just give up, but they had never failed to answer Dameon's summons before. Kelden should have felt secure with Renstad and his men to protect him, but he couldn't shake the feeling that without the Galds he was in grave danger.

They stopped for lunch, and Thayan got into an argument with one of Renstad's men. No one was certain who started it, but insults were exchanged, and Thayan ended up making threats to the man's life. He received a strong reprimand from both Renstad and Dameon.

"You won't be threatening my soldiers!" Renstad growled. "Not unless you intend to back it up. That's a good way to get an arrow in your heart."

"You're acting like a fool, Thayan!" Dameon said, seizing the lad's shoulder. "And I guess I'm partially to blame. Some of the things I told you before were wrong. The way I acted was selfish."

Thayan flinched away. "You think you've influenced me somehow? You haven't changed me at all, Dameon--other than to teach me some new tricks. And just because you're trying to act like some noble hero now doesn't mean I have to."

"No, it doesn't," said Dameon. "But you desperately need a change of attitude and to let go of your rage."

"Well said," Theodus spoke up, clapping.

Thayan fell silent, gazing at the ground. "Sorry. I didn't mean to act like that. I'll try to work on my attitude."

"That's a start," said Dameon. He sighed. "But I can already tell I made a mistake in taking you under my wing. You have a lot to learn, my young friend. Your conscience is badly eroded--perhaps worse even than mine was when I was shut away in that cave. I was blind, and I misjudged you."

"What are you saying?" Thayan said, raising his hands in disbelief. "You're still going to teach me sorcery, right? "

"Never again," said Dameon. "But take heart, lad--there is more to life than sorcery. Work on your character, for that's the most important thing one can build. That's what I should have been teaching you from the start."

"I don't need your stupid lecture on character," Thayan said. "I wanted to be a powerful sorcerer. That's all. But now you've ruined my last chance at it." Thayan's eyes boiled with venom. "I thought you were a great man. Now I see you're just like all the other seers."

Dameon's eyes widened. "Get out of my sight, swine! How dare you speak to me like that? I should teach you a lesson for that insult."

"Go ahead!" Thayan shouted. "I don't care what you do--any of you!" With that, he ran off into the fog and vanished from sight.

Dameon glanced at the others helplessly. "I shouldn't have lost my temper. But the boy had no right to compare me to the seers."

"Thayan, come back!" Kelden called out. "It's too dangerous out there!"

"The boy needs time to cool off," said Renstad. "He's a hothead like I used to be. He's probably going to have to learn his lessons the hard way, just as I did."

"No, it's more than that," said Dameon. "I sensed it right from the start. He has too much rage and too little conscience. At first, I thought I could use him like a puppet and instill my selfish goals within him. Thus, I played a hand in bringing him to this point. He was very vulnerable, and I took advantage of that. Worse, I taught him some powerful sorcery."

"Thayan was on a dark path even before he met you," said Theodus. "But there is good in that lad nonetheless. He has courage and heart."

Dameon bowed his head. "All the more reason I'm to blame. Rather than enhance the good that was there, I gave power to the evil. I acknowledge my failing and bear that burden."

"You're all a dramatic lot," mused Renstad. "So the boy got angry. It happens. He just needs his space for a while."

Dameon shook his head. "I fear it's not that simple. I've looked into Thayan's soul, and it's a place where no light shines."

***

"Wretches!" Thayan muttered, as he stumbled through the grass, half tripping over rocks in his haste. He spoke aloud to himself, not caring that he sounded like a madman. "Suddenly, I'm the wicked one. Not Kelden, who has a monster inside him. Not that Jarvin fellow. But me! And what have I done? I haven't hurt anyone. But still they condemn me. Why does this always happen to me?"

He paused, glancing about, realizing he was already lost in the thick fog. "Great, now I'm going to end up having to call for help like a child. Well, I won't do it! I'd rather wander these plains until I starve to death or the worms eat me."

He sat down on a boulder, tears springing into his eyes. Thayan had never been liked by anyone. Amongst the Ulden students, he'd been an outcast. He'd tried to pretend to himself that he had friends and that they cared about him, but they were mere associates. He'd never been invited to anything social and hadn't been inducted into any of the numerous groups into which students organized themselves. Nothing had really changed. He'd always been alone, and he would always be alone.

Thayan knew the reason for his isolation was that he just wasn't likable. Something in his manner turned people off. It wasn't fair, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He was who he was.

Thayan sat there wrapped in self pity, almost wishing he was dead. "What do I have to live for?" he asked himself. He remembered his promise to the gods, when he'd been hanging from the West Gate of Valganleer. It seemed laughable now. He would never do anything great, and no one would remember him when he was dead.

"You're worthless!" he said to the gods. "You just keep people alive to torment them. You should have let me die up there on that gate." His words were intended to be bitter, but they just sounded insane to his ears.

"I don't believe in any gods, or anything else," he went on, still talking aloud to himself. "And why should I?"

"Why indeed?" a voice whispered.

Thayan froze, dread settling over him. "Who speaks? Show yourself!" Trembling, he leapt to his feet.

From out of the fog stepped the Blue World sorcerer, his gleaming spear held like a staff. Dead eyes gazed out from corpse-like skin. A joyless smile was on the sorcerer's face.

"Get away from me!" Thayan said. "I'm not your enemy."

"You are far from being my enemy, Thayan."

"I'm not your friend, either," said Thayan, "if that's what you're getting at. Just because I'm mad at them doesn't mean I'll betray them. Especially Kelden, who has been kind to me from the start. You can kill me, but I won't be your puppet."

"My, how you jump to conclusions," said the sorcerer. "I don't want to kill you, or possess you, or persuade you to do anything."

"No?" said Thayan, his eyes hopeful and desperate.

"Not at all," said the sorcerer. "Actually, I just want to feed off you. May I drink your essence, Thayan?"

"Leave me alone!" Thayan yelled.

The sorcerer shrugged, his smile turning into a leer. "I asked nicely. Had you agreed, I might have drank only a little, or I might have drank my fill and then killed you afterward to put you out of your misery. But you've dared to defy me, so now I'll simply take it all. I'll drink until nothing remains and you're a soulless husk."

The sorcerer's terrible will bound Thayan in place, and he simply looked on in despair as the being approached. Thayan shut his eyes, and he felt two objects attach to his skull like suction cups full of small, pointed teeth. Then began an ordeal that lasted several moments, while Thayan experienced suffering beyond his darkest nightmares. It felt like his soul was being sucked away and he couldn't stop it. It was a fear worse than that of death--a fear that his very existence was being devoured. Mercifully, it ended when nothing remained inside him and he collapsed into the final darkness of oblivion.

***

A half hour had passed since Thayan ran off, and the others were getting impatient. "We better send someone after him," said Dameon. "He could get lost in that mist."

"Or get himself killed," said Kelden. He found himself feeling sorry for Thayan. Dameon had been very harsh with him--maybe needlessly so. After all, Thayan hadn't actually done anything wrong other than exchange a few angry words with one of Renstad's soldiers. Once again, Dameon had shown poor judgment.

"Chasing him around out there would be foolish at this point," said Renstad. "Give it a bit more time. He'll return or call for help if he loses his way."

"The Altan bulls won't get lost," said Dameon, pacing about. "And they can sniff him out. We need to find that boy before he does something foolish."

"I said we'll wait!" Renstad ordered, ending the discussion.

No sooner had he spoken than Thayan emerged from the fog, his steps slow and measured. "Are we ready to go?" he asked.

The others gazed at him with expressions of shock. Thayan looked like a walking corpse. His skin was tinted blue, as if he were frozen. His dark eyes held a glazed look, and a humorless smile was on his lips.

"What happened to you?" Dameon said. "You look terrible."

"Do I?" said Thayan, shrugging. "I feel wonderful. I think I blacked out. But I'm okay now. Everything is just fine."

"You don't look okay," said Dameon, his eyes narrowing. "You look like you've gazed into the face of death. What happened out there?"

"I'm not sure," said Thayan. "Last I knew, I was tripping over rocks. Maybe I fell and hit my head. I can't really remember."

"Your skin," said Kelden. "It looks..."

"Like what?" said Thayan, raising his eyebrows.

Kelden swallowed. "It looks pale, sort of. Were you bitten by something? Do you feel sick?"

"I feel great," said Thayan. "I think I fell, but now I'm fine. His grin broadened, but never touched his eyes. "Don't worry about me."

But Dameon persisted. "You bear a strange aura. Cold. I feel dark magic within you. You must tell me what has been done to you!"

"He's infested with Blue World sorcery!" hissed Theodus, stepping close to Kelden protectively.

"Very well," Thayan said. "I was attacked by the Blue World sorcerer. He fed on me somehow, but then he let me go. He changed my body in some fashion, but my mind is still intact--better than ever, actually. So stop your nagging."

"He has infected you somehow," said Dameon, his eyes wild. "Now we can no longer trust you. Tell me the truth, boy!"

"Yes, he infected me," said Thayan, shrugging. "But you can trust me. I'm still the same person. Yet he took something from me, and now I'm different. I can't explain it, but it worked out fairly well. Right?"

"He took your human essence!" said Dameon. "Admit it!"

Thayan didn't reply.

"We must make haste for Murakan," said Renstad. He glanced nervously about and flipped his axe in his hand. "That creature could be anywhere. Thayan must be kept in the cage until we know for sure what's happened to him."

"He reeks of Blue World sorcery," Theodus whispered to Kelden, "right to the core of his being. Things have taken a terrible turn for us. We never should have let him split off from the group."

Kelden shuddered. Thayan had made a dastardly mistake. But what had it cost him? "Keep him away from me," Kelden whispered to Dameon. "He looks possessed. Maybe he intends to carry out the sorcerer's work."

"He must be cleansed quickly," Dameon whispered back. "If we can get him to a healer, he may have a slim chance. But it doesn't look good. And I'm guessing you're right. He's probably been assigned the task of killing you."

"We must place you in irons, Thayan," Renstad said, nodding to one of his men. "It's just temporary, until we learn more about what happened to you."

"I don't mind being locked up," said Thayan. "But I assure you I'm no danger. In fact, I feel more relaxed and peaceful than I have in ages." He licked his lips. "By the way, did we eat lunch yet? I'm very, very hungry."

### Chapter 15: The Oracle of Murakan

The company didn't go more than a mile before piercing screeches split the air as three dark, winged shapes swooped down and attacked Kelden. They tore at him viciously with beaks and claws. They were tower ravens.

One attacked the Altan bulls, probably seeking to drive the creatures into a frenzy. But the bulls couldn't be intimidated. They snorted and drove their horns at the bird to try to impale it. Renstad's men fired their crossbows, but the ravens were fast and elusive. They swooped in and out of the mist, their barbed claws seeking Kelden's throat.

A raven dug its talons into Kelden's arm and tore up his flesh. He cried out, struggling furiously to pull the bird free. Meanwhile, he left his throat unprotected and another raven took a dive at it and almost made deadly contact. Try as they might, neither Dameon nor Renstad could land a blow on the birds.

Another raven ripped its claws into Kelden's chest, drawing blood. Kelden seized the bird's neck, his magic instinctively springing to life. He snapped his hand shut and expected to feel a crunch of bone. But his hand closed on empty air, as the raven somehow pulled loose and soared off into the fog.

Then one of Renstad's men nailed one of the beasts with a lucky shot. Critically injured, the raven flopped around in the grass for a moment before soaring off low to the ground with the arrow sticking out of it. For an instant all the birds vanished into the mist, and it seemed the attack might be over.

They waited in tense silence. Moments later, all three birds--including the wounded one--swooped out of the fog straight for Kelden. But Dameon and Renstad were ready this time. Renstad hacked one down with his axe, cleaving it in two. Dameon struck a raven with his mace, and the creature caught fire in an explosion of sparks and flew off to burn into a pile of ash.

Only the wounded one remained, but it could no longer fly. In settled into the grass and bled the last of its life away. Meanwhile, Kelden slumped back, clutching his torn chest. The pain burned hot, and his tunic was soaked in blood.

"Now can I ride in the back?" he said.

His face grim, Renstad nodded.

Kelden's wounds weren't life threatening. While Renstad patched him up with ointment and bandages, Dameon paced about excitedly in the grass.

"There is your proof," he said. "Tower ravens. They had the stink of evil about them. They must have been sent by Jarvin from Iragantheos to slay Kelden."

"Maybe," said Renstad, "but I too own a tower raven. They're rare outside the Legaran keeps, true enough. And this does seem to indicate your story is true. But it's not absolute proof."

"But you believe us," said Dameon. "I can see it in your eyes." He took a step toward the wagon, and his legs suddenly buckled. He dropped down to one knee.

Renstad frowned. "Are you hurt?"

Dameon shook his head. He knelt there panting for a moment, and then with a groan, lumbered up. "Just my legs bothering me again. I can't seem to rid myself of this ailment. A former seer shouldn't be subjected to such discomforts."

"Even a seer is still flesh and blood," said Renstad. "There are healers in Murakan who might be able to help you. If we get there alive."

They moved on again. The stubborn fog refused to clear and give them a glimpse of the Strengleth Mountains where Murakan awaited. As Kelden gazed out through the iron bars in the back of the wagon, he found himself wondering if some spell had been cast over the land just to conceal his enemies. Of course, fog was not rare in the battered landscapes of Americk Dreeth, where strange and stormy weather was frequent. There was a reason some called this region the Fog Lands. But Kelden was suffering paranoia from his ordeals and saw threats in everything.

When Kelden had used his sorcery to crush the rock in the cave, he'd felt powerful and confident. But this latest attack had left him feeling weak and useless again. Renstad and Dameon had been forced to protect him from the tower ravens or the birds would have torn him apart. It didn't help that Kelden was sitting near the massive Hetheope warrior that was Renstad's ever present companion. The creature was a mountain of lean muscle and plated armor. Every bit of it screamed of physical power, from its snarling bull-head and glowering eyes, to its metal-tipped horns. It was designed to intimidate, a sullen brute bearing a club that Kelden wasn't sure he could lift.

"Are you okay?" Theodus asked him.

Kelden nodded. "At least I'm alive. My enemies failed again."

"Not your enemies," said Theodus. "It's important to remember that these assassins are after Credesar."

"I am Credesar," said Kelden. A shock surged through him the moment he said that, followed by crushing dread. He wished he'd not uttered those words.

The Dar fiend said nothing. His bat ears twitched with dark emotion.

***

Murakan was a series of sprawling caverns in the mountains, some natural and some carved by human hands over decades and centuries. No sign of the city was visible from the outside, since any manmade markings would have attracted worms. A single main road ran from one end of town to the other. Cheap, run-down houses and businesses stood near the gates, and were more easily accessible to worm attacks, while rich dwellings stood deeper in the caverns where few worms ever managed to reach. The city had evolved over the centuries from a few dozen huts into a huge maze of towers, mansions, stables, and jails. It had a sewer system, banking system, and an endless supply of fresh water from a massive underground lake. In many ways it was a fine city--except that it was shut away oppressively beneath mountain stone. The suicide rate in Murakan was out of control, being the leading cause of death. Controversial laws had been created to punish the families of suicide victims in an effort to guilt people into refraining from killing themselves, with little success.

As the wagon rolled along the city streets, that dreary oppressiveness bore down on Kelden and his companions. It felt like the mountain's weight was crushing them, and Kelden--who was already in despair--found himself thinking bleak and ugly thoughts. Everything seemed shrouded in a hopeless aura, like a constant reminder that the worms ruled Americk Dreeth and humans were merely intelligent mice forced to creep through tunnels to survive.

Renstad seemed unaffected by the atmosphere, however, and he took to whistling a happy tune. "Good to be home again," he mumbled.

Renstad spoke with Rudus, who didn't look happy with the conversation, and then sent him on his way. They left the wagon and bulls at a stable and walked on foot, passing angry and hollow-eyed people. Renstad walked with an aura of superiority and importance, staring people down. Everyone they passed nodded to the city guard captain with fear and respect in their eyes. Two of Renstad's men guided Thayan along between them. The streets were shadowy, containing many areas that Renstad warned they should stay clear of, for it was all too easy to get a knife in the back and lose one's gold pouch in Murakan. The city guard patrolled constantly, but violent crime was rampant, especially in the poor section of town where they were now.

They came to a pair of stone towers linked by a thick wall, which Renstad proclaimed was Fort Argonduth. They passed through a guarded gate and entered a series of halls and small rooms, some stacked with weapons and armor, some containing bunk beds. Only a handful of soldiers wandered the fort, as the rest were on patrol or guard duty, scattered all over the city. These rugged men eyed the newcomers with grim and suspicious looks intended to intimidate.

"Yes, I know," said Renstad. "This place is a dump." He was referring to crates and barrels tossed haphazardly in the corners, and other objects scattered about. "We're so busy these days, and so lacking in good soldiers, that we don't have time or resources to get organized. There's plenty of backstabbing thieves to keep us busy all day and night. In fact, this whole city is nothing but a hotbed of cutthroats and purse snatchers. As many as I imprison or hang, more just seem to pop up or move in."

Renstad led them up a circular staircase into one of the towers and to a room with bunk beds. "You can sleep here tonight," he said. "I have other business to attend to. Tomorrow I'll take you to the oracle."

"What of my chains?" said Thayan. "I don't care for them." He thrust out his arms for effect. "Get rid of them, would you?"

Renstad looked into the lad's dark eyes--and quickly looked away. "You need to leave them on. Your own companions think you might be a danger. As a matter of fact, I'd like to put you in a cell for the night. But I'll give you some blankets to make it comfortable."

Thayan grinned. "My own cozy prison cell. How kind."

"We must get him to a healer," said Dameon. "We cannot wait. The Blue World sorcery could be poisoning him even as we speak."

"I agree," said Theodus. "I can feel it growing stronger within him. We need to get him cleansed of it immediately."

Renstad sighed. "I'm tired, and I have important things to do. But I suppose we can visit the oracle now. A healer can be found in her lair."

***

The oracle's lair was located in the back of a potion and herb shop called the Black Teapot. The shop had plenty of curiosities, from shrunken heads and demonic-looking skulls to Gald totems and jars containing spectral slime from worms. Kelden found himself wanting to browse a bit and perhaps talk to a pretty female shopkeeper who kept smiling at him. He'd never been in a store like this, and it fascinated him, with new and interesting treasures everywhere he looked.

But after conferring with the young shopkeeper, Renstad led the company straight to the back behind a door, where Ellistar the oracle was sitting in a stone chair with serpent arms and with crimson torches burning on either side. The walls and pillars in the room were carved with strange runes and adorned with hanging plants. Incense burned in the corners, greenish wisps of vapor snaking about the room. Ellistar still retained the look of a Thelaran keeper, right down to her yellow skin. She was silver-haired and hard-faced, with a jagged scar on her cheek and a tight, sour expression on her lips. Her scrawny body was adorned with a dark blue robe with silver trim.

"You've been expecting us," Renstad said.

Ellistar shook her head. "Actually, I was expecting someone else. You dropped by uninvited--and brought evil into my lair no less."

Renstad stroked his beard, frowning. "Would you like us to come back later? Must I remind you that your business is not legal in this city and is tolerated only because I've benefited from your services? So...shall we depart?"

"No," she said. "I will see you now. The other shall be turned away. You seek healing for the cursed one. Take him there." She pointed at a door. "Renstad, you should escort him and stay with him, as your strength might be needed to help restrain him. You others shall remain."

Renstad nodded and led Thayan beyond the door. Thayan smiled at Ellistar as they walked past, and she gazed back with a look that might have been a mix of contempt and concern until the door slammed shut.

She turned her gaze on Kelden. Her eyes widened. "What terrible burdens do you bear? What unthinkable secrets are you guarding?"

Dameon cleared his throat. "Kelden and the rest of us seek--"

"Silence, former seer!" Ellistar hissed. "You're in my lair and subject to my laws. You'll speak only when I ask you to."

"I'll speak when I'm good and ready, Ellistar!" Dameon growled back. "Save your antics for the frightened masses. I don't respond to such theatrics. You know I'm above that. Or have you forgotten me?"

"I remember," Ellistar said, her tone calmer. "But I'm not the woman who once fell for your tricks, Dameon. I've advanced beyond anything your mind can comprehend. The future is known to me with a clarity the greatest seers cannot match."

"I have no doubt about that," said Dameon. "Nor could they possibly match your ego, it appears. Now shall I explain why we've come?"

She raised her hand in a gesture of warning. "I asked the young man a question. He has failed to answer me. Until I get my answer, I will speak no more."

Kelden glanced at Dameon, and Dameon nodded. "Tell her."

"I..." Kelden trailed off hesitantly. "I bear the..." His throat went dry. He couldn't bring himself to say it.

"He bears the demon Credesar within him," Dameon said.

Ellistar rose quickly. "The presence I feel is Jarvin's link? The Paltos fiend who once ravaged the land and forced his terrible will onto my sisters? As far as I'm concerned, Credesar is the devil himself. Yet you dare bring him into my lair? This is a holy place, blessed by the eternal spirit of my mistress Gresepha, who gave me free will and independence from the Order of Thelaran."

"Credesar isn't evil," said Dameon. "He has changed somehow, freed his mind from the grasp of darkness. He seeks Jarvin's destruction."

"What did you hope to learn by coming here?" said Ellistar, sitting down again, her face tense in the torchlight.

"We need to know which path to take," said Dameon. "Should we go to Frindagan, or Iragantheos first?" Dameon went on to explain the situation in detail.

"I believe your story," Ellistar said. "I will consult with my mistress and try to obtain the answers you seek. But I have a price, and it must be paid. What gifts do you offer me in return?"

Dameon's eyes widened. "Knowing what is at stake, you would still ask for payment? I expected better of you, Ellistar."

She stood up, her bony fists knotting in anger. "You speak in ignorance, Dameon. I'm prepared to offer what aid I can. But I must present your gifts to my mistress Gresepha, to show that you honor her."

Dameon sighed and extended his mace. "Gresepha is a goddess. Why not call her what she is? And the gods always demand tribute."

"Do not speak ill of my mistress!" Ellistar snarled. "How dare you call her a goddess? She was born of mortal parents. She demands tribute because that is her way. Who are we to question it?"

"Gresepha's origin is debated," said Theodus. "Many believe she was never a flesh and blood entity. If she allows herself to be worshiped by paid tribute, she is defined as a goddess--which in turn would make her a false god as defined by the Legaran seers, since there are no true gods that began their existence as sorcerers or demons. And furthermore--"

Kelden clamped his hand over Theodus' mouth.

Ellistar glowered at the Dar fiend.

Before she could say anything, Dameon tossed his mace at her feet. "This is a Mezzelt weapon--a fiend bound with a spirit creature, and my lifelong link. It's my most prized possession. Take it if you must."

Kelden grabbed his arm. "You can't give away your mace! I'll give her the items the seers lent me, the food and water makers and whatever else I still have."

"That would be foolish," said Dameon. "Those are priceless gifts. Do you know how much those items are worth?"

"We need your mace," said Kelden. "I haven't used those items in a long time, and the blood potion of shielding is gone. But you need your link if we're to have any chance of survival. I've seen what it can do in your hands."

Dameon nodded. "I suppose you're right."

Kelden took out his remaining items and showed them to Ellistar. "Will you accept these instead? They're probably worth as much as the mace."

"Perhaps," she said, her eyes shining. "But they're clearly not as important to you as that war club is to Dameon."

"We won't give you that," Kelden said defiantly. "No matter what."

Ellistar's piercing gaze fell upon Kelden, but he refused to yield. Finally she swiped the items from his hands. "It may not be enough, but we'll see. It's your loss if Gresepha will not guide me."

"If she won't," said Kelden, "I expect those items returned."

"Of course!" Ellistar snapped. "Do you think I'm a common thief?"

"No...no I don't," Kelden said, his face reddening.

She turned away angrily, muttering to herself, and disappeared behind the door that Renstad had led Thayan through.

They waited in silence.

About an hour later, Ellistar returned and seated herself in the chair. "Gresepha has accepted your gifts, and she has guided me. Are you prepared to hear the truth?"

"Get on with it," said Dameon.

"You shall go to Iragantheos," said Ellistar, "and not to Frindagan. The mind soothe does indeed exist there, but it will never leave the tower. Dameon, you shall walk a painful path until the end of your days. Theodus, you must do your duty to the fullest, and trust Kelden even in the darkest moments. And Kelden, you cannot defeat Jarvin. He will crush you. Yet you must eventually face him alone. And you'll never reach Frindagan Tower. I have no more to tell you."

The two men and the Dar fiend exchanged stunned looks. "Jarvin will kill me?" Kelden said. "Is that what you're saying? And that future cannot be avoided?"

"The future can be altered," Ellistar said. "But it's a tricky business."

"My master will not die!" said Theodus.

Ellistar smirked. "And how will you stop it, Dar fiend?"

Theodus gazed at the floor, unable to respond.

Dameon nodded. "I will walk a painful path." He pulled up his trousers, to reveal purple spots and sores on his skin "So this cannot be cured?"

"Even Gresepha knows of no cure," said Ellistar. "An ordinary man would have lost his ability to walk already. Being a former seer, you may always walk to some degree, but never without pain. The evil that lurks under your skin is impervious to medicine or magic."

"Why did Gresepha tell you of my disease?" said Dameon.

She smiled sadly. "I saw you limp. I remembered when we were once close to each other, and I felt the need to know for your sake. It wasn't the answer I was hoping for. Gresepha sees much from beyond the grave. Her sight rivals that of Thelaran, or, dare I speak it, even the shade of Kuran Darkender. Believe me when I tell you there is little hope you will ever be free of this ailment."

Dameon returned her smile. "Even though my legs can never heal, my heart already has. And for me, that's more than enough."

Her face hardened again. "Gresepha has spoken, and my heart belongs only to her. You will go now and never return without fair payment and a worthy cause. The things Gresepha has seen are to be taken very seriously--but no vision of the future is set in stone. In this realm of ours, any road can take an unforeseen turn."

"What of Thayan?" said Kelden. "Has he been healed?"

Her face was grim. "You will go--and wait for him. He requires more time."

"Tell us of his destiny," said Dameon. "What will become of him?"

"He will walk a path into shadow," Ellistar said, "where none of you can follow. His curse is both a reward and a punishment--though it was not made clear to me who would be rewarded and who would be punished. There is still good in him that can save him from a life of evil, but it is only a flicker of hope at this point."

Dameon nodded. "Goodbye, Ellistar. I won't forget you, even if I live another hundred years. I remember you as you once were."

The oracle did not reply.

### Chapter 16: Jailed

When Renstad returned a few hours later, he bore a grim expression. He led Thayan along, and the lad was still shackled, blue-skinned, and ghoulish. "They restored some of his humanity," said Renstad, "but he'll remain cursed until he dies. That wench kept me there all this time, while I had important business pending--and then come to find out her healer couldn't make him whole again."

"Just how cursed am I?" said Thayan. "I feel fine."

Renstad picked up a gleaming shield and held it out. "Take a look at your reflection, boy."

Thayan stared at the shield, his eyes wide. "Gods...!" he whispered. "What has happened to my flesh? I look like a walking corpse."

Kelden and Theodus exchanged disheartened glances, while Renstad looked uncomfortable. Dameon gazed at the floor.

"That dark magic inside you will grow," said Renstad, "until it consumes you and you end up a creature of Blue World. You'll constantly be filled with the desire to do evil. But if you're strong enough, you can resist and keep your humanity."

Thayan bowed his head. "I can already feel the evil inside me. My emotions are dulled...a fog in my brain. What else did she tell you?"

Renstad sighed. "This is the tough part, boy. She said that very rarely has a Blue World sorcerer drained the essence of a person and let them live. Each time it has happened, the victim has become evil beyond reckoning. They became like black knights, slayers of the innocent, and masters of something she called corpse puppets, which are apparently the walking dead, if you can imagine such a nightmarish thing. It's a very ugly affair however you look at it. Sorry to have to tell you this."

Thayan swallowed and turned away. "Then maybe you should take that axe of yours and finish me right now, before I get out of hand."

Renstad seemed to ponder this, as he gazed at his crimson axe.

"There will be no killing here," said Dameon. "Now listen, Thayan. I know you are strong enough to resist the darkness. I have seen it within you."

"You'll gain sorcery and other abilities," Renstad went on. "But if you use any of it too much, or too enthusiastically, it can lead to your corruption. You'll hunger for dark emotion, to inflict terror and pain. That too must be resisted. It's going to be rough all around."

"Wonderful," Thayan muttered. "I get to spend my days in endless torment. Remind me again why I shouldn't end it now?"

"This city," said Renstad, "is a place where many choose to end their lives. Those people were tormented by their own demons, and they gave up. This city--this world\--is a dark place that will crush your soul if you let it. Do you want to be just another fool who gives in to the darkness, or do you want to do something worthwhile with the great gift of life while you still have the chance?"

Dameon placed a huge hand on his shoulder. "We need you, Thayan. And you're not so different from Kelden. He, too, fears he will be consumed."

"It's not the same," said Thayan.

"I disagree," said Dameon. "The Arnwolf is a living nightmare that must be controlled or it can cause even a seer to go insane, as history has proven more than once. Kelden has inadvertently unlocked this menace, and if he can't harness it, I assure you it will destroy him or corrupt Credesar's mind, which would be even worse. In a way, Kelden faces a greater threat than you, at least in the short term. Your process is slow and more easily managed."

Kelden fidgeted about. "Thanks, Dameon. I'm sure I'll sleep soundly tonight and have pleasant dreams after hearing that."

"Sorry," Dameon said. "But it was necessary in order to make my point. He turned back to Thayan. "You both face a similar problem. Kelden is dealing with it one step at a time. You can too."

Thayan turned and shrugged. "Truthfully, I actually feel kind of good. I feel more powerful and confident. I believe I can handle this for now. But if I start to think I'm going to hurt someone, it's over. I'll do myself in. Understand?"

Dameon shook his head. "Let us bind your hands instead. Do not give up! Life is all about challenges. Relish the challenge, Thayan, no matter how dark and dreadful. That's what we're alive for. Now, would you like those shackles removed?"

Thayan hesitated. "Maybe we should wait."

"Nonsense," said Dameon. "You will not harm us, Thayan. Renstad, remove his shackles so the boy can have free will again."

"There won't be any need for that," came a gruff voice.

Four men stood out in the hall, and a fifth one had entered. They were soldiers in gleaming armor and spiked helms. Their hands rested on the hilts of their swords.

"What's going on, Wessop?" Renstad demanded.

The soldier who'd entered carried a morning star and had a round shield buckled to his arm that displayed a gleaming image of Ralaton, a long-dead sorcerer. He was tall and lean, and the face inside his pointed helm was devilish, with narrow, sullen eyes, a hook nose, and high cheek bones.

"You must go before Lord Tannis," said Wessop. "All of you. Apparently, there has been a serious violation of the law. Ellistar, the local oracle, reported to Tannis that you and these others killed her healer and stole several items from her."

"What?!" Renstad roared. "We did no such thing. The wench is lying, Wessop. How long have you known me? I don't break the law. I am the law in this city!"

Wessop nodded. "I believe you, Renstad. Nevertheless, I've been ordered to escort you and these others to Tannis' mansion to sort out this mess. I'm sure if she's bringing false charges against you, she'll pay dearly."

"She'll pay with her life!" Renstad bellowed. He was shaking in rage. "I can't believe this. This is going to be a disaster for her and whoever else is involved. Some heads are going to end up free of their necks!"

"Ellistar wouldn't do such a thing," said Dameon, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. He raised his hand, as if feeling something in the air. "Something else is going on here. Sinister forces are in this city, working against us."

Wessop eyed the former seer nervously, gazing at the crossed-out rune on his forehead. "Just stay calm, and we can get this sorted out. The oracle is strange. She may have gone insane, or perhaps she's possessed somehow. Who can say?"

"Who indeed," Renstad muttered. "Soon I'll have that wench by the throat, and she'll admit the truth or I'll snap her scrawny neck!"

***

Tannis, the city master, dwelt in a large but simple mansion. It had a plain stone floor, a brick fireplace, and some bearskin rugs scattered about. His home was well-guarded against thieves. Two of those guards stood behind Tannis leaning against oaken barrels and holding crossbows, while Tannis sat at a long table eating a fancy meal and drinking wine. A jar of rusty-looking powder stood near his plate, and every so often he dipped his fingers in it and licked them.

"Welcome, Renstad," Tannis said.

"Welcome, indeed!" Renstad snarled. "Where's the woman who has accused me of being a criminal?"

"In a safe place," Tannis replied through a mouthful of meat. He drank deeply, and then did his strange finger-dipping ritual in the crimson powder again. "She has told her story. Now I await yours. I want to know everything. Yes, everything." He wiped his mouth on a cloth napkin. "Hold nothing back."

His eyes blazing, Renstad revealed all he knew, from the time he'd first met Kelden and his friends until the present. "And that's it," he finished. "We have serious matters to discuss. But as long as I have to deal with these false accusations, precious time is being wasted."

Tannis sighed. "False accusations, you say?" He examined his wine goblet thoughtfully. His eyes were red-rimmed, holding a strange, distant look. "What is your proof?"

"Where is her proof?" said Renstad. "The burden lies with her."

"Exactly," said Tannis. "Which is why I have jailed her. She must prove her story in order to be released."

"You jailed her?" said Dameon. "This is absurd."

"Silence," Tannis ordered. "I will speak to Renstad only. You others are thieves and liars. You have lied to Renstad. You have corrupted his mind. You will be jailed at once!"

"My tower raven is due to return anytime," said Renstad. "In fact, he's overdue. I sent him to bring word from the seers of Valganleer. Then we'll know the truth."

"I make the laws in this city," said Tannis, "not the seers. These men stole a merchant's wagon and dumped his cargo. They are rogues of the worst kind. But I'm a fair man. I'll have them imprisoned until your raven returns. Then we'll hold a fair trial to decide what punishments should be carried out."

"And what of me?" said Renstad. "Am I to be jailed as well?"

Tannis sighed. "No, I can't have that--not a man of your stature. I trust your word over the oracle's, which is why she now resides in my personal dungeon below. But you'll have to be temporarily relieved of command. Wessop can take over for you."

"This is all madness!" said Renstad. "I can't believe you're behaving this way, Tannis. I never would have imagined it. What has happened to you? This is me you're talking to, not some stranger."

"Enough," said Tannis. "We'll talk alone, after the others have been escorted below." He nodded to his men. "Take them down to the dungeon. Put them in my most secure cell--the Warding Chamber."

"You can't do this!" said Kelden, panic overtaking him. "We can't linger in this city. We're a danger to your people and we must be set free."

"In time, you may be allowed to leave," said Tannis. "That time is not now."

Dameon smiled. "This isn't over, city master. This plan will fail. Tell that to whoever controls you. Tell them that we will escape, that no prison can hold us."

Tannis motioned to his guards. "Take his mace, and any other weapons they have."

Dameon held up the glowing mace. "I won't surrender my link. And my first target will be you, city master. Can you stop the blow that will certainly fall upon you? Try to take this mace, and you'll soon know. Otherwise, we'll go willingly."

The guards raised their crossbows, their faces tense.

"You're not in a position to make demands," said Tannis, eyeing the mace nervously. "You'll do as I say!"

"If you know the ways of sorcerers," said Dameon, "you should realize I fully intend to fight to the death. I cannot be coerced to part with my link by intimidation."

"Dameon speaks true, Tannis," said Wessop. "I suggest we let him keep his weapon to avoid bloodshed."

Seeing that Dameon wasn't backing down, Tannis shrugged. "It doesn't matter. That weapon will do nothing to help you escape the cell I'm going to put you in. There is no escape from the Warding Chamber. Keep your mace and go peacefully. We'll get this all straightened out in due time."

"This isn't over," Dameon repeated.

Tannis grinned. "It's over and done with. Wait and see." He shot Thayan a disgusted look. "And take your monster with you. I know what he is."

Thayan's eyes smoldered with darkness. "Watch your tongue," he whispered, "or it might get torn from your mouth."

Tannis smirked and waved him away. "Over and done with."

### Chapter 17: The Warding Chamber

"What's wrong with you, Tannis?" Renstad asked, once the others had been led away to their prison cell. "I can't believe what I'm seeing!"

Tannis shrugged. "To you, it appears I casually sit and dine while making accusations you consider outrageous. Is this correct?"

"That's the way I see it," said Renstad. "We've known each other a long time. But I no longer feel welcome here, that you're scheming against me."

Tannis grinned. "Well, then, I'll admit it. I'm scheming against you." He dipped his fingers in the jar and licked them. "So delicious. Anyway...what was I saying? Ah, yes, that I'm indeed up to something. But it's for the betterment of our great city. And you could be part of it. Wessop has signed on. Haven't you, Wessop?"

The elite soldier nodded. "With my very blood."

Renstad was growing more distraught by the moment. These were men he would have trusted with his life only weeks before, and now they seemed like complete strangers. "Signed on to what?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"This city is a failure," said Tannis. "A shadow of despair lurks here. Crime is rampant. People kill themselves out of depression and madness. The wealthy live good, but the poor can barely feed themselves and have nothing to look forward to. More soldiers are not the answer. We need better leadership. Therefore, I've decided to hand this city over to my eternal master--the great god Jarvin himself, who at this very moment is standing behind that door." Tannis pointed to a heavy oaken door behind him. "He's right in there."

Renstad was speechless with shock for a moment. A sense of unreality washed over him. Then he blurted out: "You're insane, Tannis! You've completely lost it!"

"Wessop, tell him," said Tannis.

"He's right," said Wessop. "Jarvin is indeed standing behind that door. In a moment, he'll come out. He'll either knight you, as he did to me, or he'll strike you down. The choice is yours. You can retain your rank and have power beyond your imagination once all of Americk Dreeth is under Jarvin's control. Think carefully!"

His face grim, Renstad turned back to Tannis. "I'll never submit to the will of a false god. I'd sooner die."

Tannis sighed. "Very well. Jarvin, come on out now! Renstad the Red Axe refuses to cooperate!"

For a moment nothing happened, and then it occurred to Renstad that this must all be a prank. While Tannis had no sense of humor, Wessop certainly did. "I get it!" Renstad said, though he found no humor in it. "You fellows are jerking me around, right? It's because I half believed what Dameon and his friends told me. Right? Now you're pulling this prank to make me realize how foolish I was."

"Not at all," Tannis said calmly. "You were wise to believe what they told you."

"It's all true," said Wessop. "Jarvin!" he shouted. "Are you going to come out or not? Are you drinking up all the ale back there?" He laughed uproariously.

Renstad grinned to show he wasn't falling for the prank, but the grin vanished as the door opened and a huge man stepped through. He was a few inches over seven feet tall, with the build of a Gelshad fighter. He wore a green robe adorned with red dragon images, a gold belt designed to mimic dragon scales, and comfortable-looking fur slippers. He was bald and had a neatly trimmed red beard and mustache. His eyes were icy blue--like Renstad's. On his forehead was the poison flame, the rune of the false gods that looked like a flaming sun. Aside from the symbol burned into his forehead, he looked like a wealthy merchant wearing his evening attire and not the creature of nightmares he'd always been portrayed as.

Jarvin puffed a long-stemmed pipe and smiled. "So you're the greatest warrior in the land. Renstad the Fearless, some call you. Are you worthy of such a title?"

"I am," Renstad said quietly. "And if I'm supposed to believe you're Jarvin, the ancient seer who was imprisoned in the Shifting--well, I don't."

Jarvin laughed. "What were you expecting, a monster? I'm still a living man, Renstad. No one ever killed me. Do you think I should have blue skin like those other cursed weaklings? I'm a master of Blue World sorcery but not a slave to it. I control my own destiny, just as you still control yours--for the moment."

"What is it that you want?" said Renstad, still wondering if this was all a joke. "If you are Jarvin, why have you come here? Shouldn't you be at Iragantheos?"

Jarvin shrugged his massive shoulders. "I have to expand my empire. First Murakan, then Valganleer. All of the Legaran towers and underground cities, eventually. But you're right. I have to be getting back there. I don't really care to leave my tower in the hands of others."

"What are you hoping to achieve?" said Renstad. Ever the strategist, he decided there was a chance this could indeed be Jarvin or one of Jarvin's servants, and if that was the case, he was going to milk him for all the information he could.

"I'm paving the way for Blue World," said Jarvin. "The more Blue World sorcerers that exist, the more powerful Blue World becomes. It's wonderful, don't you think? I serve the realm that serves me, brother. I create life for Blue World, and Blue World grants me power. I want everyone in this barren realm to submit to Blue World, so that it can merge with this reality and devour it. When that happens, I will truly be a god--eternal and all powerful. It's my destiny, barbarian. No one can stop it, and no one should. It's right and just!"

Renstad pointed at the jar of powder that Tannis had been feeding from. "Some concoction of yours?"

"My blood, dried into dust," said Jarvin. "Anyone who consumes it will willingly choose to serve me, and in return I grant them power. Go ahead and have a taste. You'll have no regrets."

Renstad wondered if he should make a mad dash for the door. His instincts told him he wouldn't make it--that even though he was a powerful warrior, the giant before him could easily stop him. But was this truly Jarvin?

"You want to flee," said Jarvin. "You're not ready to serve. How unfortunate for you. But I could use a great warrior and leader like Renstad the Red Axe, so I'll spare your life for now and give you time to think it over."

Jarvin leaned forward. "Tell me something, brother. Have you ever smoked some good Mokesh leaf? I have some."

Renstad shook his head. "I don't smoke."

Jarvin's eyes widened. "Oh, I see. You're one of those straight-laced, boring fellows. I'll bet no one's allowed to have any fun around here, thanks to you. Maybe that's why so many people here kill themselves. That thought ever creep into your snobby, righteous brain? What kind of barbarian are you, anyway?"

Jarvin leaned closer, blowing smoke into Renstad's face. "So what do you think, brother? What's going on in that shiny black head of yours?"

"What of the others?" said Renstad, ignoring Jarvin's antics along with the urge to cough. "Why did you have them imprisoned?"

"Kelden must die," said Jarvin, "and I think you already know why. I care nothing about his companions, save for the former seer, whom I shall also offer my blood to. But we've talked enough. You may go now, if you wish."

Renstad glanced at the door. "I can just walk out of here?"

Jarvin smiled and blew a perfect smoke ring. "You can." He chuckled, watching the smoke ring rise to the ceiling. "Ha! That was my best one all day!"

"Then I guess I'll be going," said Renstad.

Jarvin waved. "Fair journey."

Renstad started to turn away, but then with a howl he flung himself at Jarvin, his axe swinging with berserk rage. He threw all his power into that single blow, his mind screaming for the giant's head to split and his corpse to be driven to the floor. Deep inside he hoped this actually wasn't a prank, because it was about to end in bloodshed.

Jarvin batted the axe aside like a twig and it clattered off the wall. He caught Renstad by the throat and lifted him into the air. His long nails dug deep into Renstad's flesh, drawing blood. "I should kill you for that, brother," Jarvin said. "How dare you attack a god? It's unthinkable and fills me with rage! But like I said, I could use a man of your talents." He twisted Renstad about. "Take a look at that, my barbaric friend."

Tannis had gotten excited and had dumped the whole jar of powder down his throat, his head tilted back. He was choking to death on Jarvin's so-called dried blood, a mad, gleeful look in his eyes. His body trembled in delight as he strangled.

"Such loyalty," Jarvin mused. "But we can't let him go all the way. Wessop, turn him. Then take his food away. He needs no more of it."

Wessop hurried over and slammed Tannis on the back to clear his throat. "Come on now," Wessop growled. "Spit it up, Tannis. And what's that in your lap?"

Wessop lifted an object from Tannis' lap and slammed it down on the table. It was the large, horned head of a Hetheope. It was all that remained of Renstad's most loyal companion.

Renstad cried out in shock and fury. That was the last thing he saw before a blow to the back of the head smashed him unconscious to the floor.

***

Tannis' dungeon was musty and wet, full of oaken barrels and crates. Kelden nearly tripped over a huge rat, and he was reminded of his brutal existence in the Horrat lands. He trudged along too reluctantly, and a guard shoved him against a moldy barrel and stuck his crossbow against Kelden's throat. The guard was muscular, with long, unkempt hair and beard. His eyes were fierce. "Pick up your feet, boy," he said. "Or you're going to choke on iron."

"I'll move faster," Kelden said, not wanting to bother with this annoyance when so much was on his mind.

But Theodus seized the guard's crossbow and snapped it in two. "Your neck will be next if you touch my master again!"

The guard was seething with rage. "That monster broke my bow. Who's going to pay for that? Do you know how much a fine crossbow like that costs?"

But a guard who outranked him by order of intelligence stepped in. "Let it go, Samskey. Our orders are to lock them in the Warding Chamber. It isn't your fault the bow is broken. Wessop won't take it out of your pay." He glanced at Dameon, fear in his eyes. The former seer still held his mace, and his enormous size spoke of crushing power. Only the slight limp in his gait showed any hint of mortal weakness.

Dameon's relaxed demeanor suggested he was guarding some secret, which made the guards nervous but gave Kelden and the others a sense of hope--even though none of them fully trusted Dameon's judgment.

As they took another flight of stairs downward, they could hear screams and moans coming from the shadows beyond the torchlight. Cell bars glinted here and there, with shapes lurching about behind them.

"To what strange hell have you brought us?" hissed Theodus, his bat ears twitching.

The guard named Samskey laughed. "To a hell befitting of a devil like you," he said. "You'll soon pay for breaking my bow."

The other guards, their faces pale, ordered Samskey to shut his mouth. But Samskey was having none of it. When Theodus walked deliberately slow in front of him, he shoved the Dar fiend in the back. Theodus didn't so much as move an inch. Instead, he turned his five-hundred pound, squat frame about, his yellow eyes blazing like twin lanterns. He shoved Samskey backwards into Thayan hard enough to rattle Thayan's teeth.

Samskey pushed Thayan away from him, drawing a short sword. "Don't touch me," he growled, "either of you scum. I'll cut both of you down before you can blink."

A chill seemed to settle over the tunnel. Thayan's eyes narrowed into slits. He threw his chained arms over Samskey's head and began choking him. "Die!" he whispered, as he pulled furiously on the chain.

Samskey dropped his sword and fought frantically to remove the chain from his neck. But Thayan easily overpowered him. Thayan's face was a murderous mask, partially hidden by his tangled black hair. The other guards watched in tense silence, perhaps choosing to let Samskey learn his lesson the hard way.

"Don't kill him!" said Kelden.

Dameon watched with concern in his gaze.

Finally, Thayan released Samskey and shoved him into some crates, where the guard lay clutching his throat and coughing.

"Keep moving!" the more intelligent guard ordered. He motioned them forward, his hand visibly shaking. "Just keep moving, for Tembros' sake!"

The Warding Chamber had a thick iron door and no windows except a small slot twelve feet above the floor. Covering the stone walls inside were symbols that seemed to move downward in a constant tumbling flow. It was motion sorcery, like that in the Low Room where Kelden has spoken to Master Lendrith shortly before leaving Valganleer.

The guards ordered them inside and quickly secured the door behind them. They would have been left in total darkness, except that Theodus gave off a fairly strong reddish glow from his lava-like skin.

"Now what?" said Kelden, as he paced about in the circular chamber. "Maybe we should have tried to escape. We have no food or water, no bed to lay on."

"Had we tried to escape," said Dameon, "the whole city would have been after us. We need to be patient and wait for an opportunity."

Kelden sighed. "We should never have come here. Now we're trapped beneath a mountain. This whole journey has been a disaster. I should have done what the seers commanded and gone on to Frindagan before..." Panic surged through him at the thought of being consumed by Credesar. "We need to escape from here now!"

"This is a stout prison," said Dameon, running his fingers over the moving symbols. "I can't summon my power here. When I try, it just flows away from me with the symbols on the walls, like it's being washed downward with water."

"If we can't use magic," said Kelden, "we have no way out!"

"The motion is an illusion," said Dameon. "It can be overcome."

"Maybe you can overcome it," said Kelden. "But I can't."

"In time, you might have to," said Dameon.

"I'm completely helpless," mumbled Theodus. "I can barely move. All fiends have a weakness for motion sorcery."

"I feel helpless too," said Thayan. He gazed at his feet. "Does this mean that I've lost so much of my humanity that I'm more like a fiend than a man?"

"If you lacked a conscience," said Dameon, "you would have choked that guard to death. But you let him live. That proves you're not a monster."

"You are different now, Thayan," said Theodus. "But we still respect you and judge you by your actions--not by whatever strange curse befell you."

"Strange curse," Thayan mused. Then he shook his head, his eyes wild. "How did it come to this? I should have died on the West Gate. Even death by a worm bite would have been preferable to being turned into a devil." Tears sprang from his eyes. "I no longer know what I am."

Dameon seized his shoulders. "Calm yourself!"

"I wanted to kill that guard," said Thayan. "I was consumed with power. I could smell his fear, his very blood. I was going to tear him apart."

"But you restrained yourself magnificently," said Dameon. "You're too hard on yourself, Thayan. You say you're a coward, but you're one of the bravest men I know. A coward would give in to his terror, and I don't see that in you."

"Maybe not," said Thayan. "But you said you wouldn't train me anymore. You saw some flaw in my character."

"It's the flaw I am seeing now," said Dameon. "You're ravaged with dark emotions, too determined to punish yourself. Such an attitude is dangerous. You must learn to forgive yourself for your flaws and recognize your strengths."

"You're a good man, Thayan," Kelden mumbled, walking over to the iron door. He was tired of hearing Thayan whine. Kelden felt bad for him, but Thayan seemed far better off than Kelden, whose own curse was so terrifying he could hardly breathe when thinking of it. A strong possibility existed that Kelden could transform into another being (or two) and never be human again. Yet he felt like he was handling it better than Thayan, whom Kelden secretly viewed as weak and annoying. Thayan was always crying about his flaws and problems, but he wasn't the one with a spear pointed at his back and two demons ready to claim his body.

"We need to get out of here!" Kelden said, his hands shaking as he pushed against the iron door. "I can't be held prisoner like this. I need to do something, get to Frindagan somehow."

Dameon frowned. "Then do something. Walk out of here. You're the true power amongst us, Kelden."

"I don't have any power," said Kelden. "Not here."

"You have all the power you could ever need," said Dameon. "You could tear that door away like nothing. You could bring this whole city to its knees!"

"Maybe Credesar could," said Kelden. "But not me."

"You are Credesar," said Dameon. "You're Kelden Delure, Credesar, and the Arnwolf all in one. If only your mind was free and enlightened, you could drain so much power from the demons inside you. Instead, you whine and complain. So you managed to crush a stone. It's a start, but nothing compared to what you could unlock. You waste your precious gifts like a fool."

"Gifts?!" Kelden said in disbelief. "Sorry, but I don't feel all that gifted right now. I'm not some power-crazed seer. I don't want any of this. You said it's dangerous, that I could be destroyed. You said the Arnwolf was summoned too early."

"And I stand by that," said Dameon. "If you can't manage to think and act like a master sorcerer, you can never control the Arnwolf--let alone a power like Credesar. You'll be devoured, like a tiny bit of sand swallowed by the sea."

"Then it's over," Kelden said. "I don't have time. It takes decades of the finest training to make a seer."

"It's over," said Dameon, "if you believe it is. That much is certain."

Kelden said nothing, not knowing where to begin. How could he meditate and train under these circumstances?

His thoughts were interrupted when the iron door sprang open and Renstad tumbled into the cell. Standing in the doorway was Wessop, grinning insanely. Several armed men stood behind him--elite guards with crossbows and stern faces.

"Let's see..." Wessop said, sighing. "I'm supposed to sniff out a magical bracelet. So much filthy Green World magic in here..."

"You mean the bracelet Kelden was wearing?" said Dameon.

"That would be the one," said Wessop. "My master wants it back. So hand it over."

"I'll give it back," said Dameon. "But only if you tell me what its purpose is."

"It's a tracking device," said Wessop. "It allowed my master to know your location at all times and listen in on your conversations."

"But the seers made me wear that!" said Kelden, in shock.

"You sure of that?" said Wessop, smiling. "Did they actually hand it over to you and tell you to wear it?"

"Theodus gave it to me," said Kelden, looking puzzled.

"I don't remember," Theodus said.

Dameon's face reddened with humiliation. "Of course, a tracking and listening device. But could such a creation exist? It seems impossible even for someone like Jarvin to create. How could sorcery be manipulated like that?"

"I don't know," said Wessop. "And moreover, I don't care. I'm just here to collect it."

"I knew that bracelet was trouble," Dameon said. "I should have smashed it with my mace the moment I discovered it."

"Don't make me come and get it," said Wessop. "Thanks to Jarvin, I'm no ordinary man. None of you are a match for me, and I'd love to prove it by snapping a neck or two."

Dameon tossed a metal box to Wessop. "Now be gone from here, pawn of Jarvin. Wretched traitor to your own city!"

"Soon you'll all be dead," said Wessop. "Goodbye." He slammed the door shut and locked it.

Dameon knelt and checked Renstad's pulse. "He took a nasty blow to the head, but he's alive."

"We need to get out of here!" Kelden said again, pacing about.

Dameon nodded, his face grim. He was sweating. "Forget what I said about showing patience. There has been a change of plans. We need to act, because I'm fairly certain they intend to kill us immediately!"

### Chapter 18: Terror Unleashed

Dameon smashed his mace repeatedly against the metal door, but failed to even dent it. "It's too stout," he muttered.

"They have to open the door to kill us, right?" said Thayan. "Once they do, we can strike."

Dameon pointed to the small slot in the stone twelve feet above them. "They can use that hole to kill us, Thayan. It finally dawned on me what that is for. I guess we should have taken our chances and fought them."

"They're all insane," said Theodus. "What is the purpose of this?"

Dameon slumped against the wall, looking defeated. "They obviously fear Credesar, and I'm guessing they think this chamber is strong enough to contain him. And if Credesar does emerge before Kelden is slain, he'll be weakened by the motion sorcery and they can finish him off."

"But you said the magic here is an illusion," said Kelden, "that you can resist it. Surely Credesar could resist it as well."

"Credesar is a fiend," said Dameon. "Regardless of his vast power, he shares the common weakness to motion sorcery."

Theodus nodded glumly. "This chamber is taking a huge toll on me. It's like I'm being pulled through the floor. I feel sick and feeble."

"It's almost amusing," Dameon went on. "If Credesar comes forth, this chamber will make the mighty demon as weak as an infant. Or rather, it will make him believe he's that weak, which is good enough."

"Brilliant trap," said Thayan, a wry smile on his face. "And we stumbled right into it like the biggest fools."

"We had no clue Jarvin was controlling this city," said Dameon. "It must have happened just before we arrived. Because of the bracelet, Jarvin knew where we were headed and what we were planning. It was easy for him to just let us in and then take us prisoner. He knew we'd be cautious and not readily put up a fight, as long as we didn't suspect what was really going on."

"You suspected the truth," said Thayan. "Yet you let it happen."

"I was suspicious," said Dameon. "But we wouldn't have survived a fight with every armed solider in Murakan. There was no escape for us."

"The seers must be in league with Jarvin," said Kelden. "Vangoss, at least. I was suspicious of him from the start. I'll bet he's Jarvin's puppet."

Dameon shrugged. "We cannot know for sure. The bracelet came from Valganleer. It was given to you by Theodus, but he does not remember its origin. Therefore, we have no conclusive facts--yet."

Renstad groaned and clutched his head. "Gods," he muttered, sitting up. "What hit me? I can't remember anything."

Dameon refreshed his memory as best he could, while Renstad gazed on in confusion and asked repeated questions.

When Dameon was finished, Renstad shook his head. "I'm some sort of leader here? Guard captain you say? Do I know you?"

Dameon sighed. "You've taken a fierce blow and your mind betrays you. In time you should recover your memory."

"Dameon, try your mace on the door again," said Kelden. "We need to--"

A glass vial flew in through the slot and broke on the floor. Greenish vapors arose, and everyone coughed and gagged. Dameon swung at the door with his mace in desperate fury. "We're finished!" he said.

Soon everyone lay struggling to breathe, but they stayed conscious. Their eyes and throats burned, their stomachs heaved and cramped, and their lungs felt full of boiling acid. It was the sort of misery that almost made them hope for death.

Once the vapors dissipated, the iron door opened and Wessop peered in, grinning. "No Credesar, I see," he said, his eyes on Kelden. "The demon hides himself." He threw back his head and laughed, and then stepped into the chamber. "I regret to inform you that you've all been fatally poisoned. It will take an hour or so for you to die, depending on your constitution. The Dar fiend may take all night. But in the end, you'll all be lifeless bags of bones."

"I'll...kill...you!" Thayan grunted, from where he lay clutching his stomach.

"Are you here to gloat over us?" said Dameon.

"Not at all," said Wessop, "though that sounds sort of fun. No, I'm here to offer you an antidote, if you'll have it."

"At what price?" said Dameon, his large stomach quivering as the poison wracked his innards. "No doubt our very souls."

"Indeed," said Wessop. "But just you and Renstad. The others must die."

"I'm not sure who you are," said Renstad, still confused from his concussion, "but I bow to no man. I'll die first. I remember that much..."

"I'll never serve your master," said Dameon. "Not at any price or promise. I've been alive for more than two-hundred years. That's far more years than most men ever see. I don't fear death. To me, it means peace."

Wessop nodded. "I figured as much." He walked over and kicked Dameon in the stomach, causing the former seer to cry out in agony.

Dameon cursed him.

"Sorry," said Wessop. "I just wanted to beat something--even if it is only a pathetic dying oaf like you. It just feels good to kick that big fat gut!"

Rage consumed Kelden, and his mind was flooded with darkness. His agony from the poison was so extreme that he made no attempt to fight the presence that was seizing control of him. He was easily shoved into the void.

Because his back was turned to Kelden, Wessop didn't see the monstrous, hairy form rise up behind him, its wolf-like eyes burning with ravenous hunger.

***

The Arnwolf couldn't believe its good fortune. Previously, it had been forced to share itself with a more powerful being that it despised and who despised it in return. That being had kept the Arnwolf in check, forcing it to behave in a civilized manner. But now that creature didn't reveal itself, and the host was putting up no fight whatsoever, leaving the Arnwolf free to act out its murderous desires.

Drool dripped from its muzzle as it rose up and gazed at Wessop. It considered toying with the human, but it was too hungry for bloodshed and it felt like its strength was being sapped by the moving walls around it. Finally it just flung itself on the elite soldier's back.

Wessop screamed as the Arnwolf bit into his neck. In an instant Wessop was reduced to a crumpled, mutilated heap. The Arnwolf growled with passion, and then at last, unable to contain itself, it threw back its head and howled.

It eyed the remaining humans in the chamber, wondering how satisfying it would be to kill them--if they might put up a worthy struggle.

Yet something was wrong. Its power was failing, being pulled away from it by the strange tumbling runes on the walls. In moments it would be helpless.

But the Arnwolf was cunning. It flung itself toward the door, catching an arrow in the process. A soldier outside the chamber had shot it, and now he was trying to close the door and secure it. The Arnwolf instinctively knew that once the door was locked there was little chance of escape.

The Arnwolf rammed its way through the iron barrier before it could close. Once beyond, it took another arrow. Unfazed, the Arnwolf threw itself at the humans, ripping and tearing, regaining its strength as its body rapidly healed. The arrows disintegrated inside it, its dark magic eating them like acid.

When it was done, the Arnwolf paused to study its work. The tunnel was littered with the dead. The Arnwolf was pleased.

Its cunning mind began to ponder what to do next. By nature, the Arnwolf knew how to craft powerful weapons and armor. It needed a place to build a forge. It knew Kelden couldn't threaten it, for he was too weak. But it worried about the more powerful being, the one that could control it. It wondered how much time it had left.

Escape through the city was possible but very risky. However, the Arnwolf could smell more potential victims all around, some of which seemed to come from behind the stone walls. Intrigued, the creature searched the tunnel. Finally it found a hidden passageway that was lined with cells containing prisoners. It bounded on past them through the shadows, consumed with purpose, determined to escape and begin its pursuit of power.

It didn't get far before it felt the other presence stir. The Arnwolf cringed, knowing it had been discovered and that the despised one was about to come forth and rob it of its freedom. But the Arnwolf was determined to fight back, to force Credesar to at least merge with it as he'd done before rather than simply surrender its hold. The two monsters were soon locked in a fierce struggle, each one determined to subdue the other. Credesar was stronger than the Arnwolf, but he couldn't shake off the resilient creature completely as long as the Arnwolf was determined to hang around. Credesar had little choice but to merge with the beast or give up, but the Paltos fiend refused to do either. Instead he threw all of his will against the Arnwolf in an effort to crush it. But this only fueled the Arnwolf's hatred and made it stronger.

Finally both monsters grew exhausted, and Kelden was able to gain a foothold. He forced his way to the surface just in time to black out.

***

Thayan watched as Dameon searched Wessop's corpse. He knew he should have felt horror at what he saw in the crimson glow generated by Theodus' body, but it was dulled, reminding him he was different now. Dameon's hands dripped blood as he felt around in Wessop's clothing. The former seer's eyes smoldered with determination.

"Found it," Dameon grunted, holding up a vial and taking a small sip. "We'll each drink one-fifth of it."

"There are only four of us here," said Thayan.

"My master has not yet been cured," said Theodus. The Dar fiend was slumped against the wall, and his crimson flesh glowed brighter than ever--a sign that his body was trying to fight off the poison. Although he appeared to be made of fiery stone, he was alive and vulnerable to rare toxins. Whatever he'd ingested was slow but aggressive, seeking to wear down his formidable defenses.

Renstad had passed out again, his head wound leaking blood. Thayan wondered if the big man was dead and found himself barely able to care. If Renstad was dead, he was free of these horrors and burdens, and that didn't seem so bad to Thayan.

Dameon held up the vial. "Anyone want some? Then get over here. I don't feel like moving right now."

Theodus crawled across the floor, his body making scraping noises against the stone. He carefully drank his share. Although it was sheer agony to move, Thayan went next, knowing every moment was precious. He took his share and had to fight to keep from coughing it back up. It was so bitter it nearly choked him, but it seemed to make him feel better instantly.

Dameon crawled over to Renstad and poured a bit down his throat. "Block the entrance, Theodus. I don't want anyone closing that door on us again."

Theodus crawled over and lay with his shoulders through the doorway. "They will have to cut me in half to close this door."

They lay gasping and groaning. Thayan recovered faster than the others, and after less than an hour he was on his feet, feeling fairly strong. It occurred to him that he may not have needed the antidote at all. "I've had enough of these things," he said, and with a burst of magical energy he ripped his shackles apart. As they clattered to the floor, he had to fight down a sudden urge to lash out at his friends. He gazed at his hands, wondering what had happened to inspire such rage.

Thayan turned away in shame and disgust. Even the small act of breaking his chains threatened to turn him hopelessly evil. It was power at a terrible price, one he knew he'd pay again and again. Power was meant to be used, and sooner or later he'd call upon it and face the consequences. But he took a little comfort in the fact that Dameon, for whatever reason, seemed to believe Thayan could control himself.

Kelden was another matter entirely. Thayan cringed at the thought of his friend. Kelden couldn't control his inner demons at all, and the result was pure carnage. He couldn't help but think of Kelden and the beast he'd become as one and the same, and he found himself wishing Kelden would die and take his monsters with him.

Not long after that, Dameon recovered enough to stand. "We must get Theodus out of this chamber. He cannot heal properly in here."

Together, they moved the Dar fiend out into the tunnel, where torchlight revealed a nightmare scene of dead bodies. Dameon shook his head in disgust. "The Arnwolf is truly a killer with no sense of pity."

"I'll get Renstad," said Thayan. He turned to enter the chamber, only to come face to face with the big soldier.

Renstad rubbed his head. "What has happened here? Tell me these aren't my own men who lay torn asunder!"

"They might be," said Dameon. "But we've no time to concern ourselves with that. Tannis wants us dead. Once he realizes what has happened, he'll send more men to kill us. We have a grim fight ahead of us, if we are to escape this city."

"We have a good stash of weapons and armor," said Thayan, glancing about. "They just need to be cleaned." Thayan felt numb to the carnage.

"We shall take none of it," said Dameon. "Any of the items on these soldiers could be tainted with Blue World sorcery."

"That's absurd," said Thayan. "You think every sword, bow, or dagger is tainted? They just look like common weapons to me."

"You don't know the ways of Blue World," said Dameon. "Let me assure you that anything these soldiers were carrying could be a danger to us. Touch nothing!"

"I'm already cursed by Blue World," said Thayan. He picked up a dripping sword.

"Put it down," said Dameon. "It may not affect you, but it could harm the rest of us. Don't be a fool, Thayan!"

Thayan tossed the weapon aside. "If you say so. I think you just want to be the only one to carry a weapon, you stubborn oaf."

Theodus lurched to his feet. "I see something. An opening in the wall." He pointed into the shadows.

Renstad squinted. "I see nothing."

"But you cannot see in darkness," said Theodus, "as I can. A trail of dark magic leads that way. My master must have gone there!"

"I remember everything now," said Renstad. "Jarvin--or someone claiming to be him--struck me down when I refused to serve him." Renstad went on to describe the encounter in detail.

"I'm not surprised," said Dameon, as they trudged along the hall. The former seer pulled a torch off the wall and shone it into the cells. Men and women showing signs of starvation and torture greeted their vision. Some threw themselves against the bars and begged for help.

"I never knew about this!" Renstad said, his hands knotting into fists. "We must free them. No prisoner should be treated like this. No wonder Tannis never allowed me to come down here. He wasn't the man I thought he was. He probably chose to serve Jarvin of his own free will."

Dameon moved the torch away, his face stony. "We cannot help them. They are left to their fate, however terrible. Such unhealthy people would slow us down too much. We'd all be caught and murdered."

"But we must help them," Theodus said.

"We don't have time," said Dameon. He placed a huge hand on the Dar friend's shoulder. "Your master needs you, Theodus."

Theodus tore his gaze away from the cells and nodded, looking conflicted. "We'll have to come back for them later."

"I'll free this city of Jarvin's evil," Renstad swore.

Dameon said nothing, his head bowed.

"Help us!" the prisoners moaned. "Please!"

No one replied. Theodus winced, looking terribly unhappy. They entered the hidden tunnel, and Dameon pulled the section of wall shut behind them. "Let us hope this tunnel leads to freedom," he said.

"It might," said Renstad. "All the important buildings in Murakan have one or more escape routes, in case of a mass worm attack. This may even lead to a passage that will take us right out of the mountain."

Dameon paused at the sound of a female voice crying for help. "Ellistar?" he said, waving the torch in front of a cell.

"It's me," came the exhausted reply.

The oracle had been beaten and tortured, her robe bearing bloodstains and one of her eyes burned shut. "They caught me by surprise," she said. She laughed hoarsely. "Imagine that--an oracle getting caught by surprise. They knocked me unconscious and then poisoned me. I'm too weak to use my magic. I think I'm dying."

Dameon raised his glowing mace, but Thayan seized his arm. "Too loud, Dameon. Let me handle this."

Thayan seized the bars and let the darkness consume him, thinking he could control it. As the evil presence took his mind, he decided he would kill Ellistar. He pulled fiercely at the iron bars, and they finally buckled beneath the strain, ripping free. Grinning, he strode into the cell and seized her throat with his hands, his heart pounding in anticipation of the kill.

She spat in his face. "Monster!"

Thayan hesitated, his hands dropping away. She'd called him a monster. Didn't that mean something to him? Slowly the fog in his brain lifted, as Dameon pushed him aside to attend to the oracle.

Horrified, Thayan backed into a corner. "That does it!" he whispered. "I won't use that power again. I was going to kill her."

Dameon turned and gave him a hard stare. "You wouldn't have killed her. My mace would have crushed your skull before that happened."

Thayan gulped. "Like I said, I'm done with it."

Dameon turned back to Ellistar. "How badly are you hurt?"

"My eye is in rough shape," she said. "But it's the poison that has ruined me." Her body sagged, and she groaned.

Dameon shoved the vial to her lips and forced her to drink, tilting her head back. Theodus lunged forward and seized his arm. "You've betrayed my master! There will be none left for him. You don't even know if Ellistar suffers from the same type of poison. You might have just wasted that on her."

Dameon shoved him away. "I betrayed no one. If Kelden still requires healing, we'll find more of the antidote." He bowed his head. "I couldn't stand there and watch her die."

"I feel better," said Ellistar, raising her eyebrows. "Whatever you gave me is working very quickly."

"We better hurry," said Thayan. "By the way, don't count on me for anything, as far as sorcery goes. I won't go through this again."

"You'll do what you must," said Dameon, as they left the cell. "Don't doubt that for an instant."

They found Kelden snoring peacefully at the bottom of some stone steps. His clothes were free of bloodstains.

"He looks healthy as can be!" Thayan marveled. "But how can his clothes still be intact? It doesn't make any sense."

"The transformation does not occur in the physical sense we're familiar with," said Dameon. "It obeys an entirely different set of laws."

Theodus grinned with delight. "He does indeed look healthy. Perhaps the transformation cured him somehow."

"The Arnwolf has the ability to regenerate almost instantly from wounds," said Dameon. "It's like no other creature that I know of. Perhaps some of that healing was passed on to Kelden when the beast took over his body." He gently shook Kelden several times. "Wake up, my friend."

Without warning, Kelden sat up and lashed out at Dameon. He screamed: "I killed them all!"

### Chapter 19: Credesar is Finished!

"Quiet!" Dameon ordered, shaking Kelden. "Our enemies will hear us."

Kelden clamped his lips shut, realizing he'd been having a nightmare. "I dreamt I was killing people...and.... It was awful."

Dameon and Theodus exchanged a grim look.

"It was no nightmare," said Dameon. "The Arnwolf took control of you and slaughtered some soldiers."

Kelden jumped up, his face pale. "Then I actually...?"

"No," said Dameon. "The Arnwolf was the culprit this time. You had no control over it at all. It wasn't even you."

"But we're the same being," Kelden pointed out. "I am the Arnwolf."

"In a sense, yes," said Dameon, sighing. "But in another sense you are completely separate beings. Otherwise your clothes would be in tatters. Yet you don't even bear a single bloodstain."

"I don't understand it," said Kelden.

"Who does?" said Dameon. "My guess is that a few physical or magical effects may be exchanged between you and the Arnwolf. There is a merging of sorts. It's a complex process. But that doesn't mean you're responsible for killing anyone."

"Put it out of your mind, Kelden," said Ellistar. "The men the Arnwolf killed were slaves to Jarvin, and now they are free. But we must struggle on."

Theodus patted his master on the back. "None of this is your fault. I'm just glad you made it back one more time."

Thayan rolled his eyes. "Right. You're good and pure, Kelden. You bear no blame, and so on and so forth. Do you need a hug to help confirm that?"

Kelden ignored Thayan's sarcasm, his mind too occupied to pay it heed. He wasn't sure how he'd made it back, but he had a dreadful feeling he'd been very lucky to do so. Such good fortune couldn't hold out long.

They turned a corner and came face to face with four of Tannis' soldiers bearing swords. The fighters leapt forward to attack, venom in their eyes.

Dameon dispatched one of the soldiers with a mace blow to the head. Theodus seized another soldier's sword and snapped it in two. Then the Dar fiend smashed the man against the wall so hard his bones cracked.

Ellistar, Thayan, and Kelden stepped back, with the intent of allowing Dameon and Theodus to defend them. Renstad also hesitated, for lack of a weapon. Then, seeing they were outnumbered, Kelden leapt forward and laid hands on Theodus, calling forth his magic. Theodus' crimson flesh brightened, even as a poorly delivered sword glanced off his stony skin. The Dar fiend raised his hand, and Kelden sent a furious burst of blood lore energy into Theodus, feeling the familiar connection to his link; and Kelden's power doubled in strength. A force exploded from Theodus' hand--viewable only as a warping of the air as if by heat--shattering a soldier's armor and sending his broken body tumbling along the tunnel.

Kelden reeled back, stunned at his own power, hoping he hadn't killed the man but knowing he almost certainly had inflicted massive damage on him.

Dameon deflected another sword stroke with his mace before landing a crushing blow on the soldier's head. The remaining soldier tried to flee, but Renstad tackled him from behind and began strangling him. The huge warrior seethed with rage as he did the ugly deed.

Kelden prayed Renstad would stop choking the man. But Renstad's eyes were cold, his lips twisted in a murderous sneer, and finally the soldier shuddered and went limp. When he was done, Renstad rose and kicked the corpse.

"How dare he attack me!" Renstad growled. "He knew who I was, and he still tried to cut us down. Filthy traitor."

"It wasn't his fault," said Dameon. "Their minds have been hopelessly corrupted, Renstad. These are innocent men--the same ones you knew. For whatever reason, they gave in to Jarvin's will and were transformed into monsters. They may have faced torture if they refused. You should forgive them for their human weaknesses."

"In light of that, I forgive them," said Renstad, bowing his head. "I don't understand it, but I guess you're right. Somehow, good men have lost their very souls. I'll make Jarvin pay dearly for this!"

"We'll do what we can," said Dameon, shrugging. "These men came to a sad fate, but now we must leave them where they lie and move on."

As they hurried past the fallen men, out of the corner of his eye Kelden saw a figure that wasn't moving--the soldier who'd been battered viciously by Kelden's magic. Kelden cringed and looked away. He found himself hating the ways of humanity--the evil, the killing, and the warfare. And he was unable to fathom how Renstad had slain a man in such a brutal fashion. Surely the barbarian had to be cold hearted, and people like him were the cause of misery in the world. By dwelling on Renstad, Kelden managed to distract himself from the fact that he was likely now a killer as well.

The tunnel split in two. The oracle led them down the left one, and no one questioned her decision. The tunnel sloped downward. They could soon hear running water and smell the stench of the sewers. Escape seemed possible.

Kelden began to consider a drastic move--striking off from the group alone for Frindagan. Once Credesar was out of him, he could find some remote city and learn a trade. Or maybe the seers would let him resume his studies. Either of those alternatives seemed far better than dying with a group of crazed misfits trying to enter a fortified Legaran tower that was controlled by a man who considered himself a god.

"What's our big plan?" said Thayan, as they hurried along.

"Same as before," Dameon said gruffly. "We head for Iragantheos, find a way in, and gain possession of the mind soothe. Then we escape."

"There we go," said Thayan. "Couldn't be more simple. Should we slay Jarvin once we get inside, just for good measure?"

Dameon turned, scowling, and grabbed Thayan's tunic. "I don't know, Thayan. What do you think? Maybe you should lead this bedraggled group."

Thayan slapped Dameon's hand away. "Maybe I should. Your leadership has nearly gotten us killed more than once."

"Enough," said Ellistar, her remaining good eye opened wide in disbelief. "We can afford to think of nothing but escaping this city right now. We haven't the time to pause and fight amongst ourselves."

"Agreed," Kelden said. "Let's get going. We can discuss our plans once we get out of these wretched tunnels."

Thayan laughed. "I'm sure we will. Does any one of us really have a clue what we're doing? Look at us! We've lost touch with reality. We should be trying to find someplace to hide out and spend our remaining years like everyone else does. But instead we're determined to get ourselves killed. It's kind of funny. I'm just going along with it to see where it leads, so I can get a good laugh."

Kelden wondered if Thayan was somehow reading his mind, so similar were Thayan's thoughts to his own. But Kelden said nothing, not wanting to get in an argument with Dameon and get choked.

"You don't have to go," Dameon said. "You have free will, Thayan. If you want to abandon this quest and strike off on your own, have at it."

"I'll tag along for now," said Thayan. "But so far all I've gained on this journey is nearly being tortured to death, poisoned, and cursed. Yet we press on for Iragantheos because of a vague vision that Kelden had in a village of savages. Meanwhile, Kelden ignores the advice of the seers and finds himself periodically turning into various demons and running amok. Am I the only one bothering to question this whole affair?"

"You're not the only one," said Kelden. "But Ellistar is right. Now is not the time. We need to find a way out of the mountain."

Thayan shrugged and started off down the tunnel in a quick and careless fashion. The others exchanged concerned glances, and then followed.

Traveling through the sewers was an unpleasant affair, but it became much more tolerable when Renstad announced they were on their way to freedom. He took the lead, and they followed eagerly, their steps full of renewed energy.

But Thayan didn't let up. "Looks like we're actually going to escape. And it's all thanks to that Arnwolf thing."

"Do not speak of that," said Dameon. "Kelden needs no reminding of it."

"Right," said Thayan. "It's okay to remind me that I'm some sort of freak, but we must protect Kelden's feelings at all costs."

"What are you talking about?" said Dameon. "No one is saying anything. You have taken to babbling nonsense, Thayan."

"I know what you all think," said Thayan. "I can see it in your eyes when you look at me. Kelden might have monsters inside him, but I am a monster."

Dameon threw up his hands in disgust. "No one is thinking anything except escape. What's gotten into you, Thayan?"

"Forget it," Thayan muttered.

Kelden cleared his throat. "You know, Thayan, I'm sort of tired of your whining." He knew he should let it go, but Thayan's words angered him. "We're all facing challenges. So quit being a baby. Face up to your problems like a man, the way I'm trying to do."

Thayan's eyes widened, and he stepped in front of Kelden--so close that Kelden could feel his breath. "You better watch what you say!"

"Get away from me," said Kelden. "Quit acting like a fool. Don't forget who saved you when you were hanging from the West Gate of Valganleer."

Thayan shoved him back a step. "So I'm a baby and a fool, huh? I could kill you easily. I'm not some weak Ulden student anymore."

"Do not threaten my master!" Theodus said, his yellow eyes narrowing and his bat ears twitching.

"Indeed, maybe I shouldn't," said Thayan. "Maybe he'll turn into a monster and tear me apart like he did those soldiers back there."

In a fit of rage and emotional pain, Kelden struck Thayan on cheek, rocking his head back. "It wasn't my fault!" he cried.

"You'll pay for that!" Thayan hissed. He tackled Kelden to the ground and choked him. Kelden struggled uselessly, his strength nothing compared to Thayan's unnatural power. Thayan was charged with dark energy and it was driving him to kill.

Theodus tried to break Thayan's hold, but Thayan was clinging with all his considerable might. Dameon lunged forward and assisted Theodus.

Meanwhile, Kelden instinctively summoned his magic, sending it into his hand. He seized Thayan's wrist and squeezed, snapping the bone. Thayan gasped. The grip on Kelden's throat relaxed, and Dameon and Theodus shoved Thayan against the cave wall. Dameon thrust his glowing mace against Thayan's throat.

Thayan stood clutching his broken wrist, his lip twisted in a sneer. "I'll bet none of you will insult me again."

"I'll say whatever I choose," said Dameon, glaring at him. "You can't intimidate me, Thayan. Your powers aren't yet a match for mine."

"I don't care," said Thayan. "I won't be insulted, and I'll take down anyone who tries it. You understand that? Nobody calls me a fool!"

"I won't insult you anymore," Kelden promised. "That wasn't right. But if I want to speak my mind on some things, I will. You don't scare me, Thayan. I know you're not evil."

Thayan's lip quivered. "You're wrong, Kelden. I was going to choke you to death. You felt it. I'm capable of anything."

Kelden rubbed his throat. "I don't believe you would have."

"No one around me is safe," said Thayan. "I'm too dangerous."

"I'm dangerous too," said Kelden. "You have a broken wrist as proof of that. It could have been your neck. So now we both know we can kill each other. So what of it? I say let's be friends and get along. We both have a similar problem, and we can help each other learn to deal with it so other people don't get hurt."

"I don't need anyone," said Thayan. "But you should learn to face reality, Kelden. You're not some righteous hero. You're just a man infested with darkness--a devil like me who can only come to a bad end. Now let's move on."

"We should do something for your wrist," said Kelden. Even though Thayan had choked him and had stated he was a devil, Kelden felt guilty for injuring him in such a brutal fashion. "Can you heal him, Ellistar?"

"Forget it," said Thayan. "I'm not human anymore, and I don't need to be treated like one. I'll crawl off and lick my wounds."

Dameon sighed, but said nothing.

"Are we done?" Ellistar said, her hands on her hips. "I thought I said we need to avoid fighting and keep moving? Didn't I say that?"

Kelden nodded. Thayan looked away, his wrist hanging awkwardly, his dark hair covering half of his face. When Ellistar kept glaring at him, Thayan finally turned and said sullenly, "I got it. Fine. Quit staring at me. My wrist hurts."

Then get to it!" Ellistar snapped, undaunted.

Their torch died out, but Theodus led with his glowing body. They hurried on through the tunnels, heedless of the fact that they lacked food, water, or medical supplies. Occasionally they stopped and listened for signs of pursuit, but heard only flowing water. The tunnels were infested with snakes, but Theodus stomped them to death.

Their journey through the winding tunnels lasted well into the morning, their steps growing heavy, but they didn't stop. Dameon limped along, occasionally pausing to rub his thighs, his jaw clenched in pain.

"You should rest those legs," Kelden told him at one point, certain Dameon was only making his way on sheer determination. Dameon's painful struggle made the others uncomfortable. He seemed on the verge of collapse, yet somehow he kept a fast and steady pace, groaning in agony now and then and occasionally stumbling. But Dameon only shook his head angrily at this suggestion, and on they went.

Daylight was breaking across the land when they emerged from the tunnels into open air. A mountain path that consisted of blue dots painted on trees and rocks stretched down the slopes ahead of them, lined with towering pines. When they first stepped from the tunnel, they were greeted with a terrible surprise. Three Halstarion worms were visible under some pines nearby. The worms were feeding on two bears, their luminous bodies quivering as they sucked away the creatures' life force.

The worms were roughly ten feet in length, made of smooth, transparent, and glowing flesh. Their elongated organs were visible pulsating inside them, crimson strands that expanded, shrank, and quivered. They seemed to have no eyes, ears, or means of flight--though they hovered at will--but they did have a round, gaping hole for a mouth that seemed to contain a few teeth-like lumps. Each worm had luminous horns protruding from its head that had no recognizable purpose since the creatures didn't use them in combat. An eye-shaped formation glowed on the underbelly of each creature.

The worms inspired terror and revulsion--the feeling they were an abomination and shouldn't exist. The natural world, however, had accepted them and learned to adapt. Many animal species had perished, but some had gained new tricks for dealing with the worms and got along just fine. Life went on across the continent as it had since the beginning. Only humans like Kelden and his companions could never live in harmony with the worms, since to do so meant surrendering the land and acknowledging the creatures as the top of the food chain. It was an ironic fate the human race had suffered, a crushing blow to the vast ego of humanity.

Their hearts full of fear and disgust, the travelers tiptoed back into the cave like the mice they knew themselves to be. They were forced to wait until the worms had sucked away all the energy from the bears and left them dead. This took nearly an hour, since Halstarion worms were notoriously slow feeders. Finally the worms finished their dinner and floated away to sleep above bodies of water or in factory ruins.

Dameon used a sharp stone to hack some meat from the bears, then impaled them on a stick. Halstarion worms often left large chunks of meat fully intact, which was why some animals--particularly scavenger birds--followed them when they hunted. Dameon played the role of scavenger now.

"We need to find a way to get a fire going," said Renstad, "and cook some of that. My stomach is growling."

"Not yet," said Dameon. "We must get away from this cave mouth before we stop to eat. I suggest at least an hour of walking first."

Exhausted, the travelers slogged along the trail out of the mountains. Kelden could hardly stand to keep moving, and he kept lagging behind. He just wanted to find a nice soft bed of pine needles and sleep the morning away.

Now that they were in the open again, Kelden began to fret about the Blue World sorcerer. Chills crept along his spine and he found himself trying to hide amongst the others as they walked.

"Shouldn't we get some sleep?" Kelden asked, leaning against a pine.

"It's daytime," Dameon said gruffly, still carrying his totem of bloody bear meat. "Do you sleep in the day?"

"Actually, yes," said Kelden. "Or at least I used to when I was at Valganleer. We should leave this trail and make camp somewhere."

"We'd be wasting daylight," said Dameon. "Foolish."

"Why?" said Kelden. "What's the big hurry? Oh, I forgot, we can't keep our deaths waiting. We have to rush to Iragantheos on our noble quest, right?" He knew he was being sarcastic and mocking, but he was so weary he didn't care.

"Why do you mock me?" said Dameon. "You sound like Thayan. Remember, it was your vision in the Gald village that has inspired this journey."

Kelden sighed. "I'm not trying to mock you, Dameon. But this pace is unnecessary, and sort of foolish. Don't you think that Tannis fellow will be expecting us to be on this trail? Not only that, but we're wearing ourselves out. If we get in a fight or have to flee, things could get ugly. We need some sleep."

"We must keep moving," Dameon said.

"I'm done," said Kelden. "Leave me behind if you want. I'm finding a place to sleep. And we should eat that meat before it rots."

"Weakling," Thayan laughed. "Dameon's legs are ruined, I'm in pain from a broken wrist, and we travel with an old woman who has been tortured. Yet who breaks down first? The healthiest amongst us--and the one who can't stand the slightest discomfort."

Kelden glared at him, but said nothing. Thayan was right. In some ways, Kelden was weak. He was sickened by violence, had no love for hard physical labor, and was in fact fairly lazy overall. But considering the burdens he bore, he felt Thayan had no right to insult him or point out his flaws.

"Shut up, Thayan," said Dameon. "Kelden makes a fair point, and if he cannot go on, then we'll rest with him. We might as well find a secluded place to camp for the rest of the day and tonight. We should be ready to start fresh tomorrow."

"I was about to suggest that myself," said Renstad. "We have some things to discuss. I haven't yet agreed to go where the rest of you are headed. And I'm not going any farther without some breakfast."

"Yes, we have issues to talk over," said Ellistar. "We find ourselves full of doubts at this critical time. As of now, Dameon, you appear to be the only one who fully believes in what you're doing. If you cannot convince the rest of us to share your faith, then we'll end up going our separate ways. I assure you we won't go to Iragantheos without having our hearts firmly set on it."

***

After a breakfast of roasted bear meat, no one felt much like talking. They stretched out on the bed of soft pine needles in the grove of trees they had chosen for their campsite. As tired as he was, Kelden found to his frustration that he couldn't get to sleep. Theodus had agreed to keep first watch and sat with his back against a pine, looking almost like a colorful rock that had been resting there for ages.

Kelden sat up and stretched his arms. He yawned, feeling tired to the bone, but he knew if he lay back down he still wouldn't sleep. He glanced at Dameon, who was snoring away. Ellistar and Thayan also appeared to be sound asleep.

"You should get some rest," Theodus said. "You look quite tired."

"Maybe later," said Kelden. "There's a lot on my mind."

Theodus looked at him curiously. "What troubles you?"

Kelden sighed. "You know I've been at the end of my rope for sometime. Every day I wonder if I'm going to finally lose my mind."

"But you've stayed strong," said Theodus. "You're no different than the man I knew at Valganleer."

"I am different," said Kelden. "Stronger in some ways, but weaker in others. My burdens have hardened me to some things, but sapped my spirit in ways I can't easily explain. It's strange that a man can become stronger and more confident but still be on the edge of losing his sanity. It doesn't seem to make sense."

"It does to me," said Theodus. But he didn't explain.

Kelden leaned forward and lowered his voice. "What I'm getting at is that I'm thinking of splitting off from this group and heading to Frindagan."

Theodus nodded. "I thought as much. I could see it in your eyes."

"Does that make me a coward?" said Kelden. Theodus was honest, and Kelden expected a straightforward answer--although he still cringed when he heard it.

"To a degree, yes," said Theodus. "You're putting your fears ahead of a possible greater good. But possible is the key word. Who could blame you if you don't fully trust the vision you had in the Gald village? I certainly don't trust it."

"At the time," said Kelden, "I thought I believed in it. But now I think it might have been some kind of trick. Supposedly, this mind soothe can help the Galds stop the worm plague. But maybe the worms shouldn't even be stopped. Maybe humans are the real danger to this world. Has anyone ever considered that?"

"Perhaps," said Theodus. "But humans are intelligent, and without intelligent life, what purpose would the universe serve?"

Kelden shrugged. "I guess that's one way to look at it. And the worms don't seem particularly intelligent or fit to run anything. Still, I don't trust the Galds. If their god is so wise, why does it let them do cruel, evil things? Their shaman supposedly communicates with this god, and then goes off and murders and tortures humans. What kind of god allows such things to happen?"

"Excellent point," said Theodus. "Only an evil or misguided god would allow its children to commit such brutal acts--unless it prefers they act with free will. I personally think all these gods of Americk Dreeth are deceivers, and all have bad intentions. They're all liars, delivering empty promises. A true god would be wise and wonderful, unfathomable to mortals and free of greed and evil schemes. It would be like the White Guardian that the shade of Kuran Darkender spoke of when he communicated with the Knights of Tembros a thousand years ago--though I'm not certain the White Guardian ever really existed. Truth is often difficult to separate from myth. But if it did exist, then perhaps at least one real god once dwelt in this land."

Kelden felt he was gaining some momentum and pressed on. "I'll bet their so-called god needs that mind soothe for his own purpose--maybe to gain power from it. I'll bet he's no better than Jarvin. All of these mighty beings just want more power. Like the seers always claim, no human is born a god. They have to make themselves into one by gaining power. It's all they think about--like rich men who dream of nothing but more riches. They don't care about humanity or the fate of the world."

"Again, so it would seem," said Theodus, looking thoughtful.

"I'm leaving for Frindagan," said Kelden, in a whisper. "Are you going with me?"

"Do you need to ask?" said Theodus. "You're still my master. I'm still your link. I go wherever you do, to whatever fate awaits you."

"Do you think I'm a coward?" Kelden asked. "I want a straight answer."

"If you truly believe in what you're doing," said Theodus, "then you may be misguided, but you're not a coward. Do you believe that going to Frindagan is the right choice?"

Kelden put his head in his hands. "I don't know." Then he looked up, his eyes focused and determined. "But I'm going, coward or not. Credesar is finished!"

Theodus frowned and looked away.

"What's wrong?" said Kelden.

"I just wonder," said Theodus, "how many times throughout the ages people have uttered those words--Credesar is finished. Yet the demon still lives."

Kelden shuddered, then rose unsteadily to his feet. "It's time," he whispered. "Everyone is asleep, and we have nothing to take with us. Let's go."

Theodus rose. "This is an enormous decision. Once we stray too far from the others, we'll lose them and there may be little chance of finding them again. Are you sure?"

"It has to be done," said Kelden. "The seers intended it. Credesar may not be as evil as they believe, but we really don't know what his intentions are. And he has a history of hurting people and serving Jarvin. We have to trust the wisdom of the seers."

"As you wish," said Theodus, looking troubled.

"Credesar may only have pretended to be friendly," said Kelden, "just to cast doubt on my mind. He probably intended to serve Jarvin all along."

"Even though Jarvin tried to kill you?" said Theodus. "Assuming that was his assassin who threw the spear?"

"Like the seers said," Kelden explained, "killing me would probably free Credesar so that he could serve Jarvin. It makes perfect sense."

"And what about the Blue World sorcerer's claims?" said Theodus. "The things he said to Thayan and I in that cave?"

"Lies," said Kelden. "Who could trust a being like that?"

"Who indeed?" said Theodus.

"Looks fairly clear to me," said Kelden.

"A window can be gazed through from both sides," said Theodus. "But the view from either side is completely different."

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Kelden, annoyed.

"Are we leaving, then?" said Theodus, ignoring the question.

"Absolutely," said Kelden. "Come on." He crept off through the pines, with Theodus right behind him, his heart pounding with excitement, his spirit weakened by doubt.

Here ends The Curse of Credesar, Book I

The Curse of Credesar, Part 2 is now available for purchase.

