

Soul Catcher

Book One of the Soul Saga

E. L. Todd

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious or used fictitiously. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher or author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

Soul Catcher

E.L. Todd

Copyright E.L. Todd 2013

Smashwords Edition

For Natascia,

The friend I turned to for every decision and pestered to read my novel every second of the day, thank you for making me laugh until I cried, bringing me down to earth when I floated too high. Every criticism you gave was somehow pleasant, hilarious, no matter how serious you were. You believed in me from the beginning, alleviated my panic attacks, and reminded me that I was worth something. I can never express my gratitude for everything that you did, putting my work before your own, and always supporting me indefinitely. You were my first editor and the best any writer could have. My best friend, I bow to you.
"Know thyself and to thine self be true."

-William Shakespeare, Hamlet
Severstein Sea

1

A secluded grotto existed along the Severstein Sea, a secret location hidden by the jagged rocks and massive boulders from the Peaking Mountains. A convenient combination of the continuous heavy fog, magnified crashing of the ocean waves, and impenetrable access from the impassable mountains made it an ideal hiding place for someone who was running from any foe—which is why Aleco made it his home.

The screeching wind that twisted through the crevasses of the mountains was magnified in volume by the circular curve of the rocks, which distorted the sound of the air, manipulating it to imitate the painful calls of dying men in battle. Any passerby who came too close was frightened by the voices and proceeded no further. Every man assumed the place to be haunted.

The only exception to this fear was Aleco, who treasured the melancholy grotto as an asylum.

The unseen blue sky was saturated with thick, gray clouds like the color of ancient stone. They swelled like a provoked puffer fish, holding back the oncoming raindrops until the very last moment of release. The sun was blocked by the suffocating rainclouds and left the landscape dim enough to be the darkened time of evening, but Aleco didn't mind—he hated the sun. Bright and clear afternoons, where the sun sparkled in the sky and warmed the dry earth, were days Aleco never ventured outside his cave.

He strode across the beach with silent footsteps, the strong muscles in his back forcing an upright posture, as he headed towards the unnoticeable slit in the rock that was the entrance to his lair. The details of his body were hidden from view by any person, for he always hid every patch of his skin from sight. The hood of his dark cloak concealed his face from the cold sting of the wind, his torso was adorned in heavy armor, and a black blade extended from his hip, which he named Stella, The Striker.

Aleco sighed as he entered the homely cave. Candles were lit to illuminate the room, penetrating even the darkest corners of the rock. He removed his cloak and armor and placed them upon the bed, where he examined the clothing by candlelight. Heavy blood stains were soaked into the fabric that protected his chest. Aleco knew the blood did not belong to an enemy, rather the stain was from a wound of his own. He removed the soaked bandage he had quickly placed around his chest the day before, when he was fleeing the city. Being pursued by the province's military, he didn't have the time to make a better one.

Aleco examined the wound and understood the severity of the cut. The blood leaking from the slit was oily black and bubbled from the injury like a diseased poison. The rancid smell of the tainted fluid burned his nostrils and caused his eyes to water. His affliction from the wound was heightened by his appraisal of the damage. It caused serious discomfort during his flight and now the sight of the tainted slice of skin made the pain unbearable. Aleco realized he had been stabbed by no ordinary blade, but a Kadnit Knife, a rare sword that could inflict fatal wounds. The truth flooded Aleco as he understood his predicament—he was going to die.

He rushed to the chest at the foot of his small bed and rummaged through its contents, putting aside swords, battleaxes, and paper scrolls as he went. Aleco found what he sought; a small bottle of crushed, green leaves. He opened the container and began to rub the herbal leaves into the cut in his chest. Aleco sighed as the pain diminished.

The herbal plant was not a cure, but it would buy him some time. He knew exactly what he needed to heal the fatal wound and prevent the poison from spreading through his entire body and eventually to his brain. Aleco would have to travel to Orgoom Forest in the morning, a day's trip from his location, to find the herbal medicine that would spare his life.

The Continent was a stretching landmass located at the northernmost point of the earth, causing the climate to be warm and dry in the summer season, but icy in the winter months. Aleco had to cross Roslyn thoroughfare, bypassing the city of Roslyn, before he could enter the guarded border of the forest. The land of the Continent had been in peace for many generations, but the times were changing. There was a duke in particular who wanted to see that peace end. Ever since their ancestors came to the Continent from Asylinth Island, they hadn't been united as one people, choosing to establish their own rulers and laws for each segregated realm. The idea was initially innocent, but the escalating tensions raised arguments about trade agreements and other laws of the Continent. It would be simpler to have one king, but the last time they made that decision they had almost been destroyed.

Aleco hated the weak government system and the various independent realms of their nation, especially since he was a wanted man in almost every province. The Duke of Aleutian would kill him the moment he caught him, but he wouldn't need to if Aleco couldn't remove the poison from his body. He needed to move forward but his body was too weak and his other injuries were too painful. He would travel to see the Nature Priest of Orgoom Forest, Father Giloth, in the morning. But for now, he would rest.

Orgoom Forest

2

"While vegetation may appear docile and harmless to an ignorant student, such as you, they are in fact very dangerous," instructed Father Giloth, as he examined the bleeding cut upon his student, Ryan.

Ryan groaned as the Nature Priest applied pressure to the wound on his finger. He wrapped the end of Ryan's shirt around the cut to stop the bleeding. The intense pain caught Ryan off guard. He didn't expect a thorn to hurt so much. He loathed his training to become an apprentice in Orgoom Forest but had no other choice. He got the feeling that Father Giloth felt the same, even behind that beaming smile he always wore.

Father Giloth left and returned with a bright, yellow flower and crushed the petals within his palm. "Give me your hand, Mr. Fetters."

Ryan obliged and Father Giloth rubbed the yellow particles into Ryan's cut. The pain evaporated like boiling water.

"Mr. Fetters, if you paid attention to my lecture, you would know that it was not the thorn that caused the pain to your finger, but rather the chemical released into your body that was the true culprit," Father Giloth said pleasantly. He released Ryan's hand. Ryan gazed at the scar that had formed over the skin of his fingertip. "Furthermore, if you had listened, you would also know that the Kaiden flower, the one I just administered to you, has phenomenal healing properties and the adept ability to counteract most poisons, even after being released into your system." Father Giloth walked away from the meadow toward the little shack he called home. "If you remember nothing else I have ever taught you, please remember that," he said without breaking his stride.

His feet crunched against the wild grass as he walked, which was beginning to freeze at winter's arrival. Every blade of grass, winged leaf of a tree, and stalk were a dense and deep green, casting the glade around the region with the vibrant hue. The only contrast was the weathered dirt path and the revolting flowers that shined their beautiful colors against the death of approaching frost. The old man inhaled the damp scent of the forest and cleansed his lungs of any pollution and his soul of any impurities. His eyes swept across the tall canopy of trees and spotted the chirping birds bounce from branch to branch, singing to one another.

Orgoom Forest is the largest woodland of the Continent, full of Naturalists and Forester apprentices who wish to study and protect the holy forest and its secrets. Father Giloth had maintained his elected role as the Nature Priest of Orgoom Forest for many delightful years while he worshiped the forest and its gifts openly. He resided in the guarded home of the Chief Priest, where he lived a comfortable existence. Unfortunately, Father Giloth's extended office made other aspiring Naturalists frustrated, since they too wanted the post, but had to wait for his imminent death before another could be elected. Father Giloth noticed the fierce competition between the Naturalists as they all attempted to prove their knowledge of forestry, star-mapping, plant and herb vegetation, and healing. It was his responsibility to choose one of the qualified Naturalists to assume his role in the event of his death. The Nature Priest felt rushed to make a decision because the excessive rivalry needed to end.

Father Giloth approached the front door of his home and smiled at the guards that protected the forest grounds and his dwelling. He entered the humble house and shut the door behind him.

A fire roared in the hearth of his study, warming the room with both heat and light. The walls were covered in treasured paintings made by his beloved students. A large mirror sat on top of the mantle and on either side of the fireplace were two wide windows. As he approached the fire, Father Giloth suddenly felt uneasy—he'd never started a fire.

"Hope you don't mind, Father," the man said from his seat by the flames. He drained the last of the brandy and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He refilled his glass and swallowed the amber liquid in one drink. "I thought I would help myself."

Father Giloth didn't seem surprised. He removed his cloak and sat behind his deep chestnut desk where he poured himself a glass of hot tea. Father Giloth glanced around the room. Every curtain was drawn shut and every door was locked. If Father Giloth was afraid, he didn't show it. "What is it this time, Aleco?"

Aleco was silent for a moment. "I am in need of a rare herbal cure."

"Which one would that be? Why haven't you taken it directly from the fields? You would never be spotted." Father Giloth gestured with his hands to the room, indicating his obvious trespassing. "Besides, you are skilled in botany and know exactly what you need," he said. "I am useless to you."

"I wanted to see you, of course." Aleco smiled and drained another glass.

Father Giloth did not return the smile. "What happened, Aleco?"

Aleco dropped his humor. He approached the desk and placed his empty glass on the dark wood. "I've been stabbed by a Kadnit Knife," he said. He placed his palm over the injury. "I need something to rid my body of this deadly poison, but—I don't know what I need to cure it," he said through gritted teeth.

Admitting a knowledge deficit was not his strongest point. Aleco always operated on his own. Even when a blinding poison had been forced into his eyes, he escaped the fortress he had been imprisoned in, which was guarded by twenty soldiers, and located the herbal remedy in the wild by touch alone. He was all he ever needed. "If anyone could help me, it would be you, unfortunately," he continued. "So can you?"

Father Giloth was silent for a moment. He pressed his fingers to his lips, as he always did in thought, and stared at his untouched tea. "I may be able to assist you; however, that depends on you, Aleco."

He sighed. "There's always a catch, isn't there?"

"Yes, I suppose."

"What do you want in exchange for helping me?"

"I want two things from you."

Aleco laughed. "Greedy, aren't we?"

Father Giloth said nothing and waited for his consent. Aleco knew his options were limited. He could agree to these silly terms or lose his life. "What are they?" he asked. He knew he was going to regret it.

Father Giloth smiled and removed his fingertips from his lips. "Excellent. I was hoping you would agree," he said. "Here is the first term of the agreement: Remove your hood so I can see your face. I haven't seen it in many, many years."

"What? Are you kidding?"

Father Giloth stared at Aleco's concealed face. "Well?" he pressed.

Aleco groaned as he pulled down his hood. Father Giloth stared at the crystal blue eyes and the pale color of his skin. The man appeared dark and desperate, fighting off the overwhelming despair that weighed on his soul every day. Father Giloth hadn't seen the man appear happy once over these past twenty years; it made his heart ache.

The old man smiled. "Much better," he said. "Now, here is my second request—"

"You want my trousers, too?"

Father Giloth laughed. "Of course not," he said. "I have a student who urgently needs to travel here. She is seeking asylum in my woods. Obviously, I cannot come to her aid because I am old and weary, and secondly, I have far too many responsibilities here," the elderly man said. "I am rather fond of her. Will you fetch her for me? I understand you are skilled in this manner."

"I can't," he spat. "Almost every province is hunting me."

"Unjustly, I'm sure," he said sarcastically.

Aleco sighed at his jest. "I can't escape a prison and babysit at the same time," he said. "What is she fleeing from?"

"I cannot say," he said simply. Aleco rolled his eyes. He knew when he was being lied to. Aleco paced across the wooden floor, his dirty boots leaving a trail of filth in his wake. Father Giloth continued. "There isn't time for consideration. Do you wish to live?"

"You would never let me die," Aleco challenged.

"Do you wish to find out?"

Asylinth House

3

Father Giloth was surprised Aleco had kept up the charade as long as he had. When the Nature Priest examined the wound, he saw the oily residue seep from the cut and drip down Aleco's burning flesh as it fell. If Aleco arrived any later, he would be dead. Father Giloth was impressed that Aleco found a supplement to slow the poison. That also may have saved his life. He wanted to ask what Aleco had done to deserve such a nasty cut, but didn't question him. He already suspected what had happened, and knew Aleco would never confide in him.

The Nature Priest worked for many hours trying to vanquish the deadly liquid circulating in Aleco's body while ignoring Aleco's cries of pain. Eventually, Aleco passed out when the poison reached his heart. Father Giloth increased his pace as he tried to heal him, and asked the other Naturalists to assist. Finally, the poison was counteracted by combining with a remedy grown in their forest to form a chemical harmless to the body.

Aleco woke up after the worst was over. The wound had coagulated and turned to a faint pink, looking like an ordinary stab mark. "This is a very nasty cut, Aleco," Father Giloth said as he examined it. "It looks quite painful."

"Aren't you smart?" Aleco said.

Father Giloth inserted orange leaves into the cut and packed it under the skin, ensuring there would be no further infection. He showed no indication of being offended by Aleco's attitude. Suddenly, Aleco winced in pain. "I'm sorry, my boy." Father Giloth smiled. He wrapped Aleco's bare chest with a clean linen wrap. "It should heal within a week," he said as he stowed his supplies away. "And you'll be as good as new."

"Thank you," he whispered.

"You're very welcome," he said.

Aleco redressed himself while Father Golith locked his supplies in the cabinet. Aleco rubbed his shoulder and was grateful for the absence of any pain. He realized he had to uphold his end of the ridiculous bargain. "Let's get this over with," he said. "Where must I go?"

"You will travel to Morkarh," Father Giloth said.

Aleco clinched his fists at his sides. Of all the cities on the Continent, he despised the city of Morkarh the most. The city was isolated, plagued by dangerous wind tornados that could toss a large ox connected to a loaded trailer into the sky. Water was scarce and the Steward of the city, Josiah Mar, abused this position to control his people. Those who defied him were prohibited from water rations, and even those who behaved were given a miniscule amount. Josiah had complete power over the city and he never let his citizens forget it. The citizens could not flee without an adequate water supply to complete the journey, and they couldn't revolt because they feared their water rations would be eliminated altogether. They were slaves in all but their name.

Aleco knew, though the people of the city were unaware, that the Steward possessed a large water fountain behind his palace walls. It released thousands of gallons of the precious liquid every day. Steward Josiah did not share this coveted fluid with his fellow citizens but let it seep into the dusty sand, wasted. How Aleco knew this, he would never admit.

"Of course," Aleco spat. He didn't hide his disdain of the city. It was the worst province he had ever visited. "Where is she located? How will I recognize her?"

Father Giloth removed the thin, silver necklace he wore and offered it to Aleco. "She will have the matching twin of this chain," he said. "That is how you will know it is her." Aleco examined the necklace and the charm it held. It was a small, unremarkable, brown ball. "You must wear this, Aleco," he said. "After she recognizes it, she will trust you and allow you to rescue her." Aleco placed the chain around his neck and secured it beneath his cloak. The old man continued. "You will find her in the Prisoner's Circle—if she is still alive."

"Perfect," he said. "I am risking my life for someone who may already be dead."

"She is worth the risk," he said.

"It doesn't matter if she is," Aleco said. "I am bound by our deal. It's the only reason I'm bothering to do this."

Father Giloth smiled. "Thank you, Aleco. She is very dear to me."

"It wouldn't matter if she wasn't," he said.

Father Golith secretly escorted Aleco to the end of his realm. Aleco's food and water provisions were restocked and he was given a small supply of useful herbs—a gift from Father Giloth himself. "You know the uses of all these remedies I have given you, with the exception of this one." Father Giloth indicated the very small container in his palm.

Aleco took the bottle and examined the mixture, noting the color and texture. A small smile crept upon his lips. "Garlic and salt?" He laughed.

"Just a tiny pinch can change a meal into a mouthwatering feast," the Nature Priest said with a smile. "I have something to tell you that concerns that charm," he said as his eyes glanced down to the chain around Aleco's neck. "Within the capsule is an extremely rare herbal remedy. So rare, in fact, that I have only been able to grow it three times in my life." Aleco reached within his shirt and withdrew the capsule, rubbing it between his fingers as he listened to Father Giloth's words. "It has the incredible ability to heal you from any injury or illness, despite the severity, and can restore any man to his original unscathed form. You can understand just how valuable this herb really is," the elderly man said.

Aleco's mind was racing. He had a way to cheat death—again. "This is how she knows to trust me," Aleco realized. "You would never give this to someone who could be an enemy." Aleco was amazed that Father Giloth would impart such a gift, considering his old age and fragility. If Aleco had one remedy, the mysterious woman had another, then Father Giloth had only one mixture left. Or did he?

"Exactly," he said. "And if you find yourself in a critical circumstance, please do not hesitate to use it. I would rather see you return without it than not return at all."

With a slight nod, they said their goodbyes then Aleco disappeared into the forest, becoming one with the darkness. Father Giloth lingered at the edge of the trees, whispering prayers as his son moved further into the forest, knowing he may never return.

Morkarh

4

Aleco approached Morkarh, the City of Sand, from the south. He sprinted across the desert, stopping only when forced to retreat from the sandstorms, until he was finally within sight of the stone city. The journey had taken a day and a half, and in none of that time did he catch a moment of sleep. But sleep was negligible to Aleco. He found it to be more disturbing than relaxing anyway.

Aleco could not simply walk through the gates to the city, especially in the darkness of night. He would raise suspicion among the guards, which could be deadly since he was already a wanted man. Entering through the main entrance was not an option available to him so he would have to go around the city.

Steward Josiah had a secret gate to his palace located on the outside of the city, used only to import illegal slaves, courtesans, and useful criminals. Aleco knew this passage and intended to use it.

He spotted two guards as he advanced to the secret entrance and they were both aware of his fast approach. They withdrew their swords from the scabbards and locked their gaze on the cloaked intruder. Aleco raised his empty hands in peace. "I was called upon by the Steward," he lied. "I mean you no harm."

Both men gripped their swords. "Name?" the first soldier asked.

"Damien."

"Damien—the Steward is expecting no such visitor," the second soldier said. They tightened their grasp on their blades and stepped towards Aleco. "But nice try," he said.

"Well, at least I made the attempt," Aleco said with a sigh. "I was hoping to avoid this. I've already killed too many men."

Aleco threw his triple-bladed short sword directly into the throat of the first soldier and he fell to the floor—dead. The second soldier did not hesitate at the fall of his comrade and sprinted toward Aleco. He crashed to the dirt with an arrow pierced through the vein in his neck. He was dead before his body fell. Aleco tore the arrow from the man's neck, wiped the blood on the soldier's cloak, and returned it to his quiver. "Don't blame me," he said to the corpses. "I wanted to avoid this."

He dashed through the gate and disappeared into the shadows of the dark city, camouflaged by the night. It took several minutes for the other soldiers to find their dead comrades, and by then it was too late. There were no clues, no blood trail, and no witnesses—they had no way to catch the culprit.

The dirt streets were deserted, with the exception of a few nighttime lurkers who avoided the ominous, hooded stranger as he ran by. Seeing the sharp daggers, gleaming swords, and deadly bow he carried, they understood Aleco was not one to be trifled with. They sprinted to their homes and bolted their doors behind them.

Aleco paid them no mind. He continued on his way to the Prisoner's Circle, a towering fortress of citizen captivity where prisoners were subjected to regular beatings, torture, rape, and manual labor. He had many memories of that place and all of them were disturbing. He rubbed his wrist and recalled the day it had been broken. Aleco could not walk into the fortress and take down all the guardsmen; he would have to go unnoticed.

Aleco approached the door and tried the handle but it was locked, just as he suspected. He took a deep breath before he raised his hand to the surface of the wood, knowing he would have to take another life in a moment.

There was a knock on the door. Keeper Amaral's concentration was shattered by the intrusion. He was reading an important document and couldn't afford any distractions. He looked up from the scroll and glared at the guard.

"Well," he yelled. "Are you going to answer that, Angus?"

The soldier looked at Amaral but said nothing, fearing that a heated reply would warrant a beating. He approached the door and unlocked the bolt. Amaral returned his concentration to the directive he was reading by torchlight, instructing him to execute an inmate the following morning. Amaral was delighted with the command; he wasn't particularly fond of that prisoner. He smiled as he continued to read.

The soldier opened the wooden door and conversed with the mysterious visitor in quiet whispers. Amaral could not see or hear the stranger who claimed his comrade's undivided attention, and felt annoyed. "What says he?" he shouted across the room.

Angus did not respond. Amaral was promoted to the Guard of the Prisoner's Circle not to be ignored, and did not accept any form of disrespect. Amaral's irritation was palpable. He strode across the room, his heavy boots thudding against the floor, announcing his impatience.

When he reached the door, he saw the cloaked intruder and felt his heart constrict with fear. Before he could reach for his sword, call for help, or even blink, the stranger snapped the neck of his guardsmen, and then turned on him, severing his head from his spine with a sudden twist. Amaral was dead before he could register the attack.

Aleco dragged their bodies outside and entered the keep unnoticed. Aleco searched their bodies, stole the metal ring of keys to the prisoner cells, along with the uniform of one soldier, which he adorned immediately, and stowed his remaining clothes in his pack. He ascended the circular staircase in silence, his eyes scanning for the woman with the priceless necklace.

As he climbed the stone steps, he passed other chaperones of the fortress, who took no notice of his inconspicuous passing. Aleco saw a group of guardsmen huddled around an open cell, watching their fellow comrade strike a helpless inmate with a thick stick, bashing his already broken bones. As he continued onward, Aleco heard the anguished cries of the prisoner fused with the laughter of the soldiers as their comrade's uniform was sprayed with the dying man's blood.

The helpless prisoner cried in agony as the soldier continued to break his ribs. The man screamed for mercy until his final moment, when his smashed skull caved in and he was no more. The blood drained from the infinite wounds on his body and formed a small pool on the floor. The soldiers wiped their boots clean of the red grime.

"Have the prisoners clean up this mess," one man said as he cleaned his boot. "I'm not touching this."

"Yea," another agreed. "It will give them something to do."

"Aren't they lucky to have us?" he asked with a laugh.

The last sound Aleco heard was the laughter of the soldiers, which was disgusting, even to him. Aleco continued on—there was nothing he could have done. Even if he could have intervened, he wouldn't have done anything to stop it; it wasn't his problem.

Aleco glanced at the captives he passed and examined the neck of each female inmate, looking for the twin of his chain. He was near the top of the fortress when he lost hope and accepted that she had already been executed. Then, he saw a gleam of gold reflect the moonlight in the darkness.

A thin woman was chained to the wall with both arms pinned above her head as her brown hair hung freely down her chest. Her lithe body was barely covered in rags, exemplifying her poor treatment. Aleco gazed at the bruised skin covering her arms, legs, and torso, and the many cuts on her body, some of which were still bloody. For a split second, Aleco pitied her, and just as quickly, it was gone. He had endured far more torture during his stay.

He unlocked the cage and opened the door. She did not stir at the sound. Her eyes were closed, and she appeared to be unconscious. Aleco preferred not to carry her, but if he had to assassinate all the soldiers with her slung over his back, then so be it—it wouldn't be the first time.

He released her from the rusty chains, tossed her across his back and began his silent exodus down the stairs. Aleco tilted his chin to the floor as he heard footsteps approach and attempted to minimize his visage. The soldier passed him, and Aleco sighed in relief—maybe this would be easier than he thought.

"Halt," the soldier commanded. Aleco stopped. "Guard," he said, "what are you doing with that prisoner?"

Aleco's mind raced as he frantically searched for a response. His hand crept to Stella, his beloved blade. "This prisoner is dead," Aleco explained. "I am disposing the body according to standard protocol before it begins to stink up the place—more than it has already." The watchman was silent for a moment, and Aleco held his breath.

"As you were." The soldier dismissed him and continued his ascent up the stairway.

Aleco exhaled, and continued his descent. He silently ridiculed the idiot, knowing the guard would be executed the following morning for believing such a fallacy—they had no protocols for dumping the dead.

With every step towards the exit, Aleco glowed with more pride; the rescue had been so easy. His moment of confidence was shattered by the unwelcome sound of the woman moaning.

"So much for that," he said.

Her feminine cry caught the attention of the nearby guardsmen, who had overheard Aleco's previous conversation with the other guard, and realized Aleco's true intent.

"That prisoner is not dead," he cried as he pointed at Aleco. "He's stealing a prisoner!" The man rang the alarm bell on the stairway. "He's stealing a prisoner!"

Aleco grabbed a loose stone from the stairwell and threw it at the guard, hitting him directly in the head. "Oh, shut it, will you?"

Aleco sprinted to the bottom of the stone staircase with the guardsmen close behind. He could hear the woman's moans become louder. She came into consciousness long enough to realize she was being carried. Aleco reached the bottom of the staircase, grabbed the lighted torch from the wall, and tossed it behind him. It smacked directly into the face of the closest approaching guardsmen, who screamed in distress as his clothes caught fire. The other guardsmen assisted their burning comrade by rolling his body across the ground. Neglected, Aleco slipped out of the entrance and dashed behind the closest building.

The city was awakened by the shouts of the angry guardsmen and the ringing of the Morkarh Tower Bells. Other guards, already looking for the criminal who murdered two of their own, heard their cries and joined in the hunt for Aleco, realizing it was the same man. Groups scattered throughout the city in search of the culprit. Aleco could hear their shouts.

"It's him again," a guardsman yelled. "Tri-blade murdered the guards and now he is stealing a prisoner."

"He can't escape this time," a guardsman replied. "Every soldier is combing the streets for him. Death will be his only escape."

"No," the solider said. "The Steward wants him alive. He wants to meet the man who is responsible for causing so much havoc in his realm."

Aleco ran toward the Steward's secret gate, sticking to the walls and blending in with the shadows as he maneuvered through the alleyways. He encountered a group of soldiers as they prowled down the street, searching the darkness for the Tri-blade murderer, a nickname Aleco was amused by. They were referring to his signature dagger, the three-bladed throwing knife he manufactured himself. The weight and center of balance of the unique steel ensured the blade always hit its mark. Aleco hid the unconscious woman behind a stack of crates, and withdrew his sword from his scabbard. He would have to make this quiet.

As the guards proceeded down the deserted walkway, Aleco leaned against the wall, out of their line of sight. When they were within reach, Aleco flung his short blade into the throat of the nearest guard, his signature tactic, and killed him. Then, the blood bath began. Before the guards realized they were under attack, Aleco snapped the neck of the next soldier and decapitated another with his blade. There was only one man left. Shaking, he fell to his knees.

"Spare me, please," he whispered. As the man begged for his life, his words came out as a stutter. "P-p-please. I'll not s-s-say a word. Please."

Aleco rolled his eyes; he didn't have time for this. He punched him hard on the side of the head, and the guard's body fell to the ground. As he lay unconscious in the street, Aleco grabbed the woman and continued toward the gate.

Aleco approached the entryway and spotted a handful of soldiers guarding the entrance, hindering his escape. Then, Aleco noticed something even more intriguing. A horse-drawn cart filled with bounded slaves was waiting to leave the city. Extra slaves, not sold by Steward Josiah, were delivered to the neighboring city of Mortar for a small profit. They traveled during the dark hours to avoid detection, since slavery was strictly forbidden on the Continent. Although, some of the highest officials, who publicly prohibited slavery, would turn a blind eye if it filled their pockets with gold.

Aleco grinned; he had an idea.

"Good evening," the driver said. "I'm taking these poor souls to Mortar." The driver nodded towards the rear of the load. "I need to leave if I plan to make it before the sun rises."

The guard looked him over and examined his suave features and attire carefully. He proceeded to inspect the cargo in the back of the cart, where the slaves were tied and gagged, unable to escape. Initially, the guard was hesitant to let him pass. After all, there was a trained assassin killing guards in the city. What if he and this man were one and the same? Then the guard thought the better of it. Obviously, this man knew how things worked around there. He knew information the general public was completely unaware of. Besides, the assassin never revealed his face, and this man displayed it clearly. The wanted man was rumored to be hideous and appalling, opposite of the friendly and fair man before him.

"Let him pass," he announced. The watchmen instructed the soldiers to open the gate and the driver passed through it.

"Thank you, gentlemen." The driver smiled. "Keep your eyes locked on this gate," he said, gesturing to the towering wooden doors. "We don't want that atrocious murderer slipping through our grasp again." The soldiers nodded in agreement.

Aleco departed from the gateway and began his expedition across the sand under the glow of the full moon. He could still hear the shouts of the soldiers within the city, barking orders to one another as they futilely searched for the Tri-blade man, who seemed to have disappeared once more. Pleased with his own cleverness, Aleco laughed as he continued through the desert.

Roslyn Pass

5

Aleco released the last slave from his bonds. The emaciated man stared at his unbound wrists with eyes full of tears—he was finally free. He reached down to grab the bloody rope that had restricted his body for so long, and caressed it with his fingertips before he threw it across the field. The slave watched it disappear into the grass, then turned to his rescuer.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked.

"I have no use for you," Aleco said as he released the next captive.

The slave was quiet for a moment. "You're a good man."

"You should get to know me better before you make such flattering comments," he said. He sheathed his small dagger onto his belt.

The man looked at Aleco. "I am indebted to you," he said. "If there is ever anything I can do to aid you, I will."

"That won't be necessary." Aleco laughed.

"I am Von." The slave outstretched his hand. "What's yours?"

Aleco shook the man's hand. "You really don't need to thank me. I have done nothing for you," he said. "Now you are stuck in the middle of the Continent, dressed in rags, with no food, water, or coin. You were better off as a slave, if you ask me."

"I would rather die as a free man, than as a man who belongs to someone else."

"If you say so."

Von turned toward his fellow prisoners and they rejoiced in their newfound freedom. Families embraced one another, brothers hugged brothers, and parents held their children tightly. There was an equal amount of laughter and tears. Aleco watched them. "Von," he called.

Von turned away from the other captives and looked at him. His skin was weathered and worn from exposure to the sun. Aleco could see the tan lines around his wrists from his bonds. The skin around his eyes appeared empty and hollow, giving him a haggard appearance.

"They call me Aleco."

"Wake up," Aleco growled into the woman's ear.

Aleco was alarmed at her extended sleep. She remained unconscious through their hasty exit of the city, the rugged trailer ride across the desert, and a whole day later, she still had not awakened. He feared the worst.

Aleco thoroughly examined her body for injuries. Although her heartbeat was weak and her breathing was deep and shallow, outwardly, he saw nothing unusual; no broken bones or severe blood loss. Then, Aleco realized the source of her prolonged unconsciousness. She had been poisoned.

Although it was uncommon to intoxicate the captives of the Prisoner's Circle, that was the only conceivable explanation for her behavior. Aleco opened the capsule that hung from the chain around his neck, removed the life-sustaining leaves, then inserted them into her mouth and forced the plant down her throat.

"You better be poisoned," he growled. "Otherwise, I just wasted one of my lifelines for nothing."

Aleco sat beside her and waited for her to stir. He monitored her heartbeat and breathing patterns and noticed they were improving. Finally, after several hours, her eyelids fluttered and she awoke. Her eyes opened and she looked at Aleco, whose face was concealed and his body cloaked and covered in weapons. Aleco knew his first impression wasn't a good one because she screamed.

"Shhh," he hushed her. "Shut your mouth and be quiet." He covered her open mouth with his gloved hand. "I mean you no harm." Aleco pulled the treasured necklace from the inside of his cloak and revealed it to her, attempting to calm her. Her body stiffened and she fell silent. Aleco released his hold.

Her hand flew to her own neck where she grasped the matching necklace, and clutched it within her palm. Reassured that it was still in her possession, she sighed. "Who gave you that necklace?" she asked. Her voice was beautiful and strong. Aleco was surprised she found her voice so quickly since she was unconscious for so long. She stared into his hood, focusing on where she believed his face to be, and waited for a response.

"Father Giloth," Aleco replied.

She nodded in agreement and confirmed the truth of his words. She looked around and examined the surrounding trees, trying to figure out their location. The woman had no idea where she was. She sat up and placed her face in her palms, which were streaked with grime. In fact, she was covered in so many layers of mud and dirt that her features were difficult to distinguish. "I don't understand," she whispered as she shook her head. "I should be dead."

"So you did poison yourself?" Aleco confirmed. He had suspected it when he discovered her affliction, unable to provide a more suitable explanation. He didn't question her decision to end her own life. He would do the same thing if his existence was unbearable. "At least it wasn't a complete waste," he said to himself.

She looked at Aleco. The disbelief on her face was enough to confirm his suspicions. She was surprised he had figured it out. "What wasn't a complete waste?"

He opened his capsule, which was now empty.

Her eyes widened in surprise. "You saved my life," she said, astounded.

"Twice, actually," Aleco said. "If we're keeping score."

"I can't believe you used your Rhine Remedy to spare me—"

"You didn't give me much of a choice," Aleco snapped. "It would have been useless to whisk you away from Morkarh, just so you could die all the way out here."

She didn't speak for several minutes as she processed all the events of the past two days. Aleco stared at her and waited.

"I owe you my life," she said finally.

"No, you owe your life to Father Giloth," Aleco explained. "He's the one who sent me to retrieve you."

"But you—"

"Only because I owed him," he interrupted. "Believe me, rescuing poor souls who want to die isn't on my list of exciting hobbies."

She glared at Aleco then stood up and walked away from him, wanting to put distance between them. She was spared from death by a man made of nightmares. As the cold wind stung her skin, making her hairs stand on end, she took notice of her poor attire. Two thin rags barely covered her body, leaving her arms, legs, and torso open to the elements. She was suddenly aware of her nakedness.

"Here." Aleco threw the stolen guard uniform at her feet. "No one wants to see that."

Her emerald eyes lit up in fury at his words, but she kept her angry retort to herself. She donned the uniform and felt the warmth of the clothes seep into her skin.

"Thank you for rescuing me," she forced herself to say. "I know the risk must have been great."

Aleco nodded.

"Goodbye," she said. "This is where we part ways." She started to walk away.

"What? You don't even know where you are," Aleco said. "Good luck going from point A to point B if you don't even know where the former is."

"Yes, I do," she said without meeting his gaze.

Aleco recognized the tone of her voice. She was lying.

"Well, the forest is that way." He pointed in the opposite direction she was walking. "So I guess you just prefer the longer route."

Her eyes shined a brighter shade of green. "Even if I didn't,' she said, "I don't need your help to figure it out." She continued to tread on. Despite everything he had done for her, she couldn't stand to be around the mongrel a moment longer. The few exchanges with the man were enough for her to realize one thing—she hated him.

"Stop," Aleco demanded. "I am obliged to deliver you to Father Giloth. I am bound by my oath to finish the task."

She didn't stop. Aleco grabbed her by the elbow and forced her to stop in her tracks.

"Let go of me," she said. She yanked her arm from his grasp but he wouldn't release his hold. Every time she tried to break free, Aleco held tighter. The constriction around her arm was making her heart race. She felt afraid. "Release me!" She kicked him in the groin but Aleco moved away with lightning speed and avoided her blow. She tried to punch him, but every effort she made was useless—he was too fast. "Let go!"

He ignored her. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I have proved I am not a threat to you," he growled. He squeezed her arm and felt her pulse quicken under the stress of his grip. Her eyes glanced down to his grasp and she knew she was no match for him. Aleco saw fear in her eyes and released his hold. "You have no reason to fear me. So, please let me guide you."

She jerked her arm away. "Stop being an asshole and I will."

Aleco sighed to himself and bottled his annoyance and frustration; the woman was infuriating. He forced his voice to sound pleasant.

"I'll try." He smiled.

Roslyn

6

They spotted the city of Roslyn by mid-afternoon. A circular stone wall surrounded the entire city, making it visible even from great distances. The keep was located in the center of the city and reached high into the sky. It was the marvel of the province. Citizens traveled across the Continent to gaze at its beautiful architecture. The magnificent tower was composed of a rare, metallic element that glistened in the light of the sunstar. The precious metal was so rare that even Duke Artremian was ignorant to where his ancestors had found it and in quantities large enough to build such a relic.

"I need to enter the city," she said.

"Why?" Aleco demanded. For him, going into another city was foolish.

"I need clothes."

"You are already wearing clothes."

"I cannot continue to wear these guard clothes while we travel. Eventually someone will see us, and my attire is nothing but suspicious."

She had a point.

"Please." She smiled. "Besides, I am in desperate need of a bath."

"No arguments there."

They entered the city, camouflaged by a swelling flock of citizens bringing their goods through the opened gates. The large oxen, wagons and horses gave them adequate coverage from the prying eyes of the guardsmen. They slipped into the city with ease. The woman watched Aleco with suspicion in her green eyes, aware of his need to go undetected, but she didn't question him.

They entered the marketplace, where sellers displayed beautiful antique jewelry, women and men's clothing, fruits and vegetables, and field tools. The woman turned to Aleco. "Can I borrow some money?" she said as she extended her hand.

"Am I your lover now?"

Her green eyes widened at the insult.

"I'll lend you the money if you tell me your name."

Her face was set in a scowl. "Accacia," she admitted. Aleco handed her a small bag of coins.

"Being a rescuer doesn't pay much, does it?" She smiled as she held out her hand, expecting more tenure.

Aleco reluctantly added more currency to her palm. "These clothes better be worthy of the duke."

"It's not just for clothes." She smiled again.

Aleco went to a nearby tavern, The Bow and Arrow, and ordered a pint of the Roslyn lager while he waited for Accacia to complete her shopping. He sat outside so he could keep an eye on her. She never left his sight as he watched her move through the market, going from vendor to vendor as she purchased clothes and other accessories. The marketplace was crowded with people. They tightened their cloaks and wrapped their exposed necks with heavy scarves in response to the chilled air. Aleco could feel the sting of the dry draft burn his lungs as he inhaled the cold breeze, and he watched as the moisture of his body vaporized in a cloud of smoke as he exhaled through his nostrils. He sat alone at the spacious redwood bench, sipped his lager in silence, and glanced at the surrounding tables that were overflowing with people.

Men rubbed shoulders against their neighbors as they squirmed in their cramped positions. They elbowed each other as they shoveled food into their mouths and knocked over full glasses of ale as they reached across the table.

Two bulky men grabbed their steaming soup and chilled beer from the counter and looked for a place to sit. They spotted the table where Aleco sat alone, but chose to sit at an already congested table after seeing his glare of intimidation.

"Wise choice," Aleco said as they walked past his table, the smell of sweet potato soup wafting out to him.

"No finer ale you'll find elsewhere," a man said, approaching Aleco.

The unexpected man clanked his pitcher against Aleco's and took the seat across from him. Accacia and the two men receded to the back of Aleco's mind as he focused his gaze on the intruder. He continued to drink his ale and retained his aura of indifference.

"Devry," Aleco acknowledged.

The man was about Aleco's height, with a thick build and a black ponytail. His weathered face was covered in gray stubble, and when he smiled, a dimple formed on each cheek. He looked at Aleco with a friendly gaze and continued to drink the citrus ale.

"What brings you here besides the ale?" He raised his tankard.

"I'm babysitting," Aleco replied. "I assume you are here on guild business?"

"What other reason would I be here?" he asked. "If I escaped, I would be hooded and cloaked as you are—but I'm no such idiot."

"Not from where I'm sitting," Aleco said.

"They are still searching for you, Aleco, and eventually they will find you."

"I'll take my chances," he replied.

Aleco looked back into the crowd and spotted Accacia moving through the market, close enough to reach, if need be. Devry followed his gaze.

"That's what you're babysitting?" he asked in surprise.

"Unfortunately," he said, returning his gaze to Devry, but letting his peripheral vision track Accacia's movement. "What is your mission, De?"

The guildsman continued to stare at Accacia. His brown eyes followed her as closely as Aleco's. "I was sent to examine the keep of the city," he said.

"They have plans to storm it?" Aleco asked with surprise. The idea was ludicrous.

"Not at all." He laughed as he tore his gaze away from Accacia and back to Aleco. "Don't tell me you've never noticed the unusual properties of the stone walls? The way it shines and flickers must indicate some greater power; at least, that's what the Chief says. He thinks the element has some supernatural ability to absorb the rays of the sun and be converted to—some other form," he said. "Lord Aleutian is giving us a few to harvest. The Chief wants me to investigate further."

Aleco hid his interest. "What kind of form?"

"Don't know." He grinned as he swallowed the last of his ale. "But you know the Chief as well as I do, better so, perhaps, and he wouldn't impart that information unless it was necessary," Devry said. "The further we are kept in the dark, the longer it will take us to crawl out of it."

"What are your theories?"

He chuckled. "I have no theories. I do my job and take my cut."

"So you choose to stay in the dark?"

"Perhaps." Devry smiled as he shoved his empty tankard across the table and returned his stare to Accacia, his new muse. "Introduce me to the kid."

"She's busy," he said.

"I've got time."

Aleco stared at Devry's expectant face. The pair had been close, had even been friends during their servitude within the guild. Despite the content of their missives, Aleco considered him an honorable man. However, Devry's fascination with Accacia irritated him. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

Devry smiled as he rose from the table. "She's all yours," he said, as he backed away with his hands held up in surrender.

Aleco knew it would be only a few minutes before the guild was upon him. They would either slice his throat right where he sat, or they would restrain him and return him to the hideaway, a sinister location where they would do things far worse than kill him. "How long do I have?" Aleco asked.

"I have no such interest in turning you in. I just care about my cut—it's that simple."

"Thank you," Aleco said.

"Your gratitude is unnecessary," he said. "If your head came with a reward this would have played out differently." Devry disappeared into the crowd.

Aleco remained where he was and focused his gaze on the wandering Accacia. Male shop owners stared at her as she strolled by, so preoccupied by her features, they failed to notice an elderly man shoplift their goods as he trailed behind her. He flashed his toothless grin as he snatched the precious items from the dark, wooden counter, and laughed to himself as he moved onto the next piece of expensive merchandise. He had successfully stolen a red ruby necklace, three grapefruits and an antique dagger. Aleco chortled into his tankard at the sight.

A young boy, with tussled black hair and grime ridden skin, ran across the market, kicking up dust with his bare feet, as he darted to Accacia and tugged on her trousers. She turned away from the gray stone bracelet she was admiring and smiled down at the boy. He was thin, much too skinny, in his ripped shirt and baggy pants, but he still bounced at her feet with energy. Accacia turned to the middle-aged clerk and asked to purchase a grapefruit. When she handed him the shining coin, the elderly man brushed it away and offered it to her freely. Aleco was relieved at the turn of events; he wasn't going to let Accacia piss away his coin on a brat. She smiled at the clerk and handed the pink fruit to the famished boy. He accepted the juicy fruit in gratitude and then hugged her before he sprinted across the square towards his sister, who he shared his meal with in a nearby alley. Accacia smiled as she watched him go.

Aleco didn't understand the appeal of children with their uncontrollable behavior, running mouths, and the seemingly constant stench of filth that accompanied them no matter how often they bathed.

Accacia resumed her shopping and Aleco saw her enter a women's powder shop where she paid for a hot bath. Aleco began to worry when she didn't come out of the shop after an hour. He was just about to leave the tavern when she walked right up to him. He didn't recognize her.

"I think I got everything I need," she announced.

Aleco was astounded by her appearance. He could finally see the features of her face, and she was gorgeous, to say the least. Her hair was clean and wavy, falling perfectly around her face. Her trousers and camisole were tight fitting, framing her hourglass shape. She began to put on her cloak, which Aleco was thankful for, because he didn't need to draw any more attention to himself—and she was definitely eye-catching.

"Is there anything you need to get?" she said, interrupting his thoughts.

"No, and even if I did, I have no money to buy it with," he teased.

"So, what is the name of my lover who has bought me so many nice things?"

"Aleco." He laughed. His chuckles felt strange—it had been so long since he'd last had them. A clean bath and a fresh pair of clothes had lifted her spirits substantially; sometimes that was all someone needed. She was completely different from when they first met. Aleco knew she hated him, probably wanted to kill him, and was certainly frightened of him, but now she spoke to him like an acquaintance, or even a friend. Her sudden change in attitude made him suspicious, especially since he had found her in a prison, but he didn't dwell on it. There was no point in asking her directly. He knew she would never answer him. Aleco was a complete stranger to her. He drained the rest of his ale. "Let's get going."

Before they exited the city, Aleco instructed Accacia to raise her hood, which she did without argument, much to his surprise, and they slipped out the gate unnoticed.

Roslyn Thoroughfare

7

They traveled towards Father Giloth's forest until the night had deepened into blackness and Aleco decided they both needed to rest. He hadn't slept in four days so he was in need of repose for a few hours.

They prepared a campsite in the midst of the thick woods, where they lit a fire for warmth and leaned comfortably against large tree logs. They sat facing each other across the fire in silence. Accacia took out a pack of dried fruit and chewed the pieces. She offered the bag to Aleco but he declined.

"So, what did you buy today?" he asked. "Or to make things simpler, what didn't you buy?"

Accacia rummaged through her pack and displayed a few blades and knives, a long sword, an elegant bow with a quiver of arrows, and lastly, a book.

"What book is that?"

"Mine," she answered.

Aleco raised his eyebrow and waited for her to elaborate.

"It's my journal," she continued. "I have always kept a journal, a habit Father Giloth instilled in me a long time ago. He said it would help me reflect on my past experiences, and more importantly, how I felt about them. I lost my last diary when I was sent to the Circle—so now I have to start a new one."

"Why were you captured?"

"Why do you always hide your face?" she countered.

Aleco remained silent. He wanted to know more about her but didn't want to reveal anything about himself in the process—it was far too risky. They sat in awkward silence.

"Are you proficient in the sword?" he asked. He was surprised by the variety of weapons she purchased and felt wary of her and her abilities.

Her face turned red. "No," she admitted. "I was hoping to learn."

Aleco sighed with relief. "I'll take the first watch," Aleco offered. "I'll wake you in a few hours."

"Okay," she agreed. "Just give me a moment."

Accacia opened her journal and began to scribble away. Aleco wished he knew the contents of that journal—he was obviously in it.

"Thank you for loaning me the money today," she said. "I promise I will pay you back."

"I know you will," Aleco said simply. He was surprised how friendly she was being towards him. Even when she was playing nice, he continued to insult her or mock her. It seemed that she could hold onto her happy spirit despite her imprisonment. Aleco could never do that. Perhaps, she didn't see him as threatening. Logically, he would have killed her already if he wanted to.

Accacia crawled into her bedroll and fell asleep. Aleco watched her chest rise and fall as she slept, watching over her as the night passed, until he was so fatigued he couldn't keep his eyes open. He woke Accacia from her long, uninterrupted slumber, and crawled into his own bedroll. Aleco found sleep immediately—but it wasn't long until the night terrors followed.

His savage screams shattered her thoughts and she ran to his side. She jerked his shoulders and called to him. "Aleco," she yelled. "Come on, wake up." She continued to shake his robust frame until he stopped screaming and his eyes began to open.

Aleco turned over on his side and tried to slow his heavy breathing as the remnants of the vision floated past his eyes and gave him chills. He felt his body flush with anger at the memory, and he wanted to stab someone through the heart, just to vent his suffering. Accacia was sitting next to him, rubbing his back as she attempted to calm him. Aleco was angered by her touch. He had never asked her to comfort him nor did he want it. "Don't touch me," he snapped. He pulled away from her soothing ministrations and stomped away into the forest.

He leaned against a tree and covered his face with his palms, cursing himself for sleeping for so long. The longer he slept, the more intense the nightmares became. He was foolish to risk it around Accacia, a complete stranger, but he had been too exhausted to fight it. He returned to the campsite with his shoulders tense and his back rigid, praying she wouldn't address the event. "We should get going," he said as he gathered his supplies.

Accacia watched him grab his belongings with a frown on her face. She didn't know Aleco, but she knew he was a good man if Father Giloth had sent him, and for that reason alone, she cared for him, despite his vulgar attitude. It was obvious that he was haunted by his past, and even in the depths of his dreams he could find no respite. At least Accacia could get a good night's rest despite the horrific memories of her past. She pitied him. "Is everything alright, Aleco?"

"Yes."

Accacia packed her items into her bag and was ready to set off. It was evident that his nightmares were recurrent and, obviously, painful. It broke her heart to see him this way. Accacia wished she could do something for him, but she knew he would decline any help she offered.

They traveled in silence, by Aleco's request, through the trees the entire length of the day and approached the outside of Orgoom Forest as the sun set over the horizon. Aleco estimated it was only a few miles away, but insisted they stay outside the borders until morning, cautioning that it was unwise to advance into its jurisdiction after dark. Accacia didn't mind because the injuries she received during her captivity caused her enormous pain, but she would never admit her weakness—to him, at least. He probably didn't care, anyway. Although she cared for him, she suspected he wasn't concerned for her.

Wordlessly, they set up their campsite and resumed their usual positions around the fire. Aleco hadn't spoken a word to her since the incident the night before, which was unusual since he often had something, usually rude, to say. Accacia honored his silence and offered to take the first watch.

"Catch some sleep, Aleco. I'll wake you in a few hours."

"I'm fine."

"Well, I'm not tired," she challenged.

"Liar," he said.

Accacia held her ground by remaining silent with her eyes locked upon the dark shadow where his face would be within his hood. In her mind's eye, she pictured him to be hideous. Why else conceal his countenance?

"Fine," he said. "Wake me in an hour."

"I'll stir you when I'm tired."

"No," he snapped. "You will do as I say. Wake me in an hour."

Aleco lay on his bedroll and quickly found sleep. Accacia waited until she was certain his breathing patterns were steady and he would not be roused before she pulled out a plant from her bag, caught it aflame, and let the smoke surround Aleco. Accacia suspected the cause of his insomnia and she hoped this solution would help. As he breathed in the smoke, she saw his body relax. She pulled out her journal and began to write.

Aleco rolled over and opened his eyes. For the first time in many years, he felt rested and refreshed and he relished the sensation. He looked to the blue sky and realized it was early morning.

Alarm flooded his body as he saw the sun crest the horizon—why is the sun rising? Aleco climbed out of his bedroll and looked for Accacia, praying nothing harmful had happened to her. He saw her leaning against the tree log, exactly where he last saw her the night before. She had a smirk on her face. "Sleep well, Aleco?" she asked.

"You disobeyed my command."

Aleco saw an inferno flash in her green eyes. His words had struck a nerve. She wanted to be forgiving of his attitude but sometimes his words stabbed at old wounds. She tried to be friendly, even when he didn't deserve the affection, but he never appreciated it. Accacia felt the anger seep out. "Well, I'm not under your command," she said. "Thank the gods for that." She saw his body tense under his cloak and knew how angry he was. His hostility dimmed her anger, and Accacia calmed the fury burning in her eyes, returning to a state of calm. This man clearly had no one he could trust. At least she had Father Giloth. "I wanted to let you sleep. It's obvious you don't get much of it."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"I know when you are lying so stop the charade," he said. "Why didn't I have any nightmares?"

"Do you normally have nightmares?"

Aleco tightened his lips. This conversation was heading in the wrong direction. Aleco acknowledged she was an excellent manipulator, and knew she could be a serious danger if she were an enemy. He didn't see her as threatening but he had been wrong before. Accacia was probably trustworthy but she wasn't worth the risk; nothing was. "Let's get moving," he said. "We are nearly there."

They hid the remains of their campsite and advanced toward the border of the forest. Aleco's anger was palpable, even in his silence. He hated asking or accepting help from others, so it made him more upset to feel gratitude towards her—for whatever it was that she did. Aleco hadn't slept more than three hours at one time since childhood, so the seven hours he had slept was a very much appreciated gift.

They reached the border of the forest. "This is where I stop," Aleco announced. "You can make it the rest of the way." Without another word, Aleco turned around and walked into the forest, leaving Accacia alone in the clearing. Aleco turned around when he was just a few feet away but hidden in the brush. He could see her standing alone, nervously looking for him. Aleco didn't want to speak to Father Giloth. He just wanted to return to his cave, alone, so he decided to wait out of sight.

Accacia felt bothered by his sudden disappearance, but she didn't know why. Aleco hadn't even said goodbye or let her thank him for rescuing her. She wished she hadn't pushed him away, making him hate her even more than he already did. "Aleco," she called into the trees, hoping he would return. She didn't expect him to, not after how angry she made him.

He suddenly reappeared before her. His quick arrival made Accacia wonder if he had ever left. He sighed deeply from within his hood, clearly annoyed that she called for him. Aleco didn't know why he bothered returning to her.

"I have a gift for you," she said as she dug through her bag.

"I don't want it," he hissed.

"Too bad," she said simply.

"What is it?" Aleco laughed. She had a quick wit and a carefree attitude that he responded to innately. Accacia made him laugh again; he couldn't believe it. Just a moment before, he wanted to tear out her throat.

"I want you to have this." She dropped a bag of plant leaves into his outstretched palm.

Aleco examined the light green leaves and recognized the plant immediately. "Roslyn's blade," Aleco identified.

"You are skilled in botany," she observed. Accacia wondered if he had been a Naturalist in the woods or if he had been instructed by the Chief Nature Priest.

"I have no use for this." He handed it back to her. In an attempt to be nice, for once, he added, "But—thanks."

"Yes, you do," she insisted. She stared at him, waiting for him to take the sack. She didn't understand why he was being so stubborn. He could take the bag and leave, avoiding the conversation altogether, but he chose to argue with her.

Aleco's politeness was running out. "You may have noticed I don't have Nocturne's Eye since I can see where I am headed," he said. "So no, I do not need this."

"Traditionally, the ingestion of the plant is used for alexipharmic purposes, such as the eradication of Nocturne's Eye; however, the inhaled smoke of the leaves can rid the body of hallucinations—and vivid dreams."

"You sound like Father Giloth," he teased. Aleco realized she was skilled in botany as well if she knew that information. Aleco had an extensive knowledge of herbal remedies himself, but even that was novel to him. He stared at her for a moment then understanding dawned on him. "This is how you helped me."

"Yes," she confirmed.

Aleco took the leaves and placed it within his pack. They continued to stand there in silence. Accacia looked at him, waiting for him to say something. He didn't know what she wanted to hear.

"When will I see you again?" she asked.

"Never, I hope."

She ignored the insult. "Then how will I repay you?"

"You won't," Aleco snapped. He had no interest in seeing this woman again. He spared her from her imprisonment and brought her to the forest as instructed. Now he had no use for her. Aleco wanted to be away from her, away from everyone. He watched her beautiful and expectant expression turn into one of pain and hurt at his words. He saw her lips fall to a frown and the fire dim in her eyes. Why did he have to be such an asshole all the time? He knew she was just trying to help, but Aleco didn't understand what he had done to warrant her friendliness. She had obviously been mistreated for a long time, by the old bruises and the layers of filth that had covered her body when he found her.

"Well, goodbye, then," she said. "Thank you for rescuing me." Aleco sighed at her words. She was being nicer to him than he deserved. He wished he could be different, not so intolerable. She began to step away when Aleco forced himself to speak, trying to make amends for his unacceptable behavior.

"Thank you—Accacia," he said through gritted teeth. "For giving me a chance to sleep—it's—it's been the greatest gift anyone has ever given me." His eyes fell to the forest floor, embarrassed, as he tried to avoid her gaze. It was the first time he'd ever tried to be nice to another human being. It was also the first time he met someone who was willing to put up with him. He had been continually rude to her but she continued to forgive. The next thing she did surprised Aleco more than his own words of gratitude—she hugged him.

Aleco stood there, stunned, as she wrapped her arms around him and laid her head against his shoulder. His arms remained at his sides, bewildered by her gesture. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. He hadn't hugged anyone in so long that he forgot what it felt like. The act was foreign to him. He didn't know what he had done to deserve such kindness from her. The contact was brief, but it was enough time for him to feel her body against his own and smell the fragrance of her hair. He began to feel uncomfortable—very uncomfortable.

"You're welcome," she said as she released him. She smiled at him for a moment, understanding how hard it was for him to express such gratitude. She didn't know anything about this stranger, but she knew the life he lived was far worse than the one she had. At least she could walk the world with her face to the sky, unashamed of her features. Accacia could tell by the flinch of his body that he hadn't had human contact in a very long time.

"How nice," a voice observed from the tree line. The thick glade they stood in allowed adequate coverage from sight. Accacia was startled by the sudden announcement. She stepped back and looked for the source of the words. Aleco immediately knew to whom they belonged, and clenched his jaw. The Nature Priest was aware of everything in his forest, including the identities of people who crossed into his lands. The ability came with the powers of his office. Father Giloth revealed himself from the thick copse of trees.

"It's heartwarming to see the two of you getting along so well," he said. "I know how difficult it is for Aleco to make friends." The old man smiled. Aleco concealed his scowl within the depth of his hood.

Father Giloth outstretched his arms towards Accacia and she moved into his embrace. With tears in her eyes, she fell into his arms and sobbed quietly into his shoulder, unable to control her emotions. Father Giloth dropped his smile, overcome with the feeling of sadness as he held her in his arms. She was obviously broken and emotionally scarred. The Nature Priest hid his own tears as he ran his hands through her hair until she stopped crying. Aleco watched the scene without moving, unsure of what to do. He didn't realize how upset Accacia was. She never revealed her wounded emotions to him. Father Giloth hugged his student for a long time before he turned to Aleco. "Thank you for returning Accacia to these woods," he said. "You went unseen, I hope?"

"Of course," Aleco said. "I wasn't followed."

"Excellent," Father Giloth continued. "It will give Accacia and me some time."

Father Giloth ushered them through the forest. "I have clean clothes, warm food, and a roaring fire waiting for you," he said as he and Accacia walked into the trees with their hands joined together. Aleco turned the opposite way and moved towards the border. "And for you as well, Aleco," he added. Aleco rolled his eyes; he just wanted to leave.

The three of them progressed through the trees, saying nothing as they approached his home in the heart of the forest. Father Giloth placed his arm around Accacia's shoulder and guided her through the brush. Aleco trailed behind, watching Father Giloth give Accacia more affection than he ever gave him. Aleco saw the Nature Priest kiss Accacia on the head and he wondered why he'd never seen her before. She was obviously very close to Father Giloth. They entered his humble house through the unguarded back entrance, for Aleco's sake.

Natalia, the housemaid, greeted them with a smile. "I have a new outfit on each of your beds and a hot bath waiting in your rooms," she said. "I'll get dinner started."

Father Giloth escorted them to their bedchambers. He instructed them to meet him downstairs when they were ready for supper. Accacia walked into her bedroom and Aleco disappeared down the hall into his own.

Accacia moaned as she sunk into her hot bath, feeling the aches and pain intensify then dull after a few moments. She scrubbed her skin and watched as layers of tissue and dirt floated to the surface, until the water was saturated with grime. She saw the bruises over her body and the various cuts along her skin, remembrances of her time in captivity. The three months she was there was more than painful, it was agonizing. Her emotional turmoil far exceeded the physical pain. The beatings she received on a daily basis were the reason she tried to take her own life; she would rather die than give into them. She prayed that Aleco wouldn't mention it or the scars on her body, to Father Giloth. She already knew how upset he was about her just being in the Prisoner's Circle. She would tend to her wounds in private. She dried herself and put on the elegant, but casual dress, Natalia had set out for her. She fixed her hair and descended the stairs to the study.

Aleco was already whispering with Father Giloth when she entered the room. His hood still concealed his face and pity rose in her heart. She wished he didn't feel ashamed in the house of Father Giloth. No one would judge his appearance and she wished he realized that. Their chattering stopped when she walked to the fire and placed her hands above the flames. She immediately felt the warmth spread through her limbs.

"You look lovely, my dear." The old man smiled. "Thankfully, you and my late wife were the same size." Accacia frowned at the mention of his dead wife, suddenly feeling uncomfortable wearing something she owned. Accacia had never known her; she had died before she was even born. Father Giloth seemed to read her thoughts because he cupped her face with his palm and said, "I would much rather see you wear it now, than watch it collect dust in the back of the closet, unworn and unused."

Accacia relaxed at his words, relieved that she wasn't overstepping her boundaries. She would never purposely offend the Nature Priest.

Father Giloth smiled. "Let's eat, shall we?"

House of Asylinth

8

The scraping of knives and the clattering of forks, with the occasional sound of chewing food or abrupt coughing, disrupted the silence in the room as they consumed their dinner. Candles lit the dining room and gave it a dim glow. The dark color of the furniture matched the wood of the forest. Accacia felt like the inside of the house was a mere extension of the woods, embodying the aura of the forest within the dwelling. It was exactly as she remembered it from all those years ago. Father Giloth hadn't questioned her about the past few years; not yet anyway. She had a feeling he wasn't going to.

Accacia looked across the table toward Aleco, his face veiled in absolute darkness under the hood, and wondered if he was staring at her in return—but there was no way for her to know. Realizing her rudeness, she quickly looked down, embarrassed by her obvious interest in Aleco. The man was confusing and difficult to decipher, but she knew one thing for certain; he was irrevocably damaged. She wondered about details of his past but knew he would never tell her. Accacia assumed they would make her captivity seem insignificant in comparison.

Aleco noticed her stare. How could he not when he had been gawking at her too? Aleco desperately wanted to know her story. Why would such a tiny woman be imprisoned in a heavily guarded fortress? More importantly, how could she seem so happy and pleasant? Her attitude didn't indicate a hard journey of pain and torture. Just one conversation with Aleco, and you would know his life was full of pain and regret—but not for her. She continued to grant him social mercy when he didn't deserve it; he assumed she pitied him. Aleco decided he would interrogate Father Giloth after she retired to bed. Father Giloth broke the silence.

"How are you feeling, Accacia?" he asked after he swallowed his bite of spiced ham. "Are there any bruises, pains, or cuts I can attend to?"

"No, I am quite well, thank you." She smiled.

"Liar," Aleco interjected. He knew how damaged her body was and wondered why she hadn't addressed it as soon as they came to the forest. She attempted to hide her pain while they traveled through the Roslyn Thoroughfare but he knew it bothered her.

Father Giloth raised an eyebrow at Aleco's accusation.

"She is covered in bruises—everywhere. I know she is in pain," Aleco continued. "She needs assistance but is too foolish to ask for it."

"Coming from the King of Foolishness," Father Giloth jabbed.

Accacia and Father Giloth laughed. Aleco seethed to himself in silence, thankful his scowl was hidden from view. He wished he'd fled when he had the opportunity.

"Well, dear, if you do need anything, you know where my stores are. You are more than welcome to use it." Father Giloth wouldn't press her for the truth. He knew Accacia would take care of herself. She probably just didn't want to reveal the intensity of her pain, shielding him from the knowledge.

"Thank you." She smiled, thankful that Father Giloth dropped the subject. She was annoyed that Aleco had interjected on her behalf. If he really cared, he could have addressed her in private. He didn't have to accuse her of being a liar in the middle of dinner. Accacia watched Aleco eat his meal and noticed the delicate table manners he used, which was a direct contradiction to his heathen aura. She expected him to eat with his bare hands, like a famished bear.

They continued their meal in silence. Accacia didn't mind the quiet; she felt at peace.

Aleco noticed Accacia's plate was full of potatoes, berries, seeds, and carrots, but lacked the spiced ham. "You don't eat meat?" he asked bluntly.

"No."

'Why?" he demanded.

"I choose not to."

Aleco had eaten the entire contents of his plate when he put his utensils down and waited for the others to finish. He was healed of the wound from the Kadnit Knife but the aftermath had stilled his appetite. He hadn't eaten in several days so he consumed everything on his dish and was still hungry.

"May I have my necklace, Aleco?" Father Giloth gestured to the chain around Aleco's neck with his outstretched hand.

Aleco unclasped it and dropped it into his palm. "Sure, but it will be for ornamental purposes only," Aleco said. "An empty necklace has no use." He looked across the table at Accacia, silently holding her accountable for the now worthless necklace. Alarm flashed in her viridian eyes; she prayed Aleco wouldn't reveal her secret.

Father Giloth opened the empty capsule. "I am very sorry you were in a circumstance that required you to use this." He sighed. "What happened?"

"Why don't you ask Accacia?" Aleco sneered, his eyes glued to hers. Aleco couldn't hide the anger in his voice. She tried to kill herself because of a few bruises. It would take more than that to make him take his own life.

Accacia looked distraught, the green inferno behind her eyes exploded into shame. Aleco quickly realized she didn't want to reveal to the old man the reason why she needed it—because she tried to kill herself. Aleco understood how much that knowledge would pain Father Giloth.

"Well—I," she stumbled through her words.

"She had to administer it to me because I was stabbed by a guard," Aleco interrupted. "The wound became infected. We had no other choice—it had to be used."

Accacia stared at him in disbelief. Initially, she hated Aleco—he was rude, arrogant, and aggravating, and his comments to her were continually vulgar. When Accacia finally elicited a laugh or chuckle from him, he readopted his angry demeanor. His personality continued to evade logical thought; he couldn't be predicted. However, she realized he was innately selfless. He had used his own antidote to spare her, never expecting to take her own capsule in compensation. He freed her from captivity, delivered her to her woodland home, purchased the items she needed from Roslyn, and expressed his overwhelming gratitude for helping him sleep, something that was clearly difficult for him—and now this. Aleco was a complicated man.

Father Giloth placed his fingers to his lips, which he did often in thought. "Well, I am very glad it was available to you, and you were able to revive yourself," he said. "If not, it would have been very unfortunate."

"I'm sure," Aleco said as he rolled his eyes in his hood.

Father Giloth placed the necklace on the counter. "Well, that's that, then."

Natalia entered the dining room and cleared the plates, asking Father Giloth if he needed anything else for the night.

"Just a pot of tea for my study," instructed the elderly man. "Thank you, Natalia."

They rose from their chairs and dispersed. Father Giloth and Aleco headed for the study while Accacia walked to the front door.

"Thank you for dinner, Natalia," she said. "It was delicious, as always."

"You're very welcome, my dear." She beamed at Accacia. "Have a good night."

Accacia left through the front door, walked across the damp grass in the darkness, and entered a building across the clearing. It was the storage center where Father Giloth and the Naturist stored their stocks of herbs and remedies.

Aleco watched her through the window in Father Giloth's study. "Why was she imprisoned?" Aleco demanded without preamble.

"I already told you, Aleco. I cannot say."

"Can't or won't?"

Father Giloth sighed. "I would never reveal your secrets, nor will I reveal hers. If you wish to know more about her, simply ask."

"I did."

"And?" the old man asked.

"She asked why I hid my face."

"Did you tell her?" Father Giloth asked with interest.

"Of course not," he said.

"You expect your queries to be answered without answering hers," Father Giloth said as he nodded his head. "That sounds fair."

Aleco growled. "What can you tell me about her?"

Father Giloth stared at him for a moment. "Why are you so interested, Aleco?"

"I risked my life for her. Is it absurd to wonder what I risked it for?" Aleco grabbed a glass and filled it with brandy, draining it in a single swallow.

Father Giloth watched him with a look of disapproval. "We do have other refreshments, you know." He pointed to the pot of tea sitting on his desk.

Aleco ignored him and dropped into the chair facing Father Giloth's desk. "Then tell me what you can."

Father Giloth sipped his tea before he began. "Well, I have known Accacia for quite some time, since she was a small child, actually," he said. "She lived with me for many years before she was whisked away from my grasp, which I was powerless to stop."

"What of her parents?"

"They were killed."

"Why?"

Father Giloth smiled in response.

Aleco rolled his eyes again. "Why haven't we met before?"

"You've been in hiding for the past twenty years," he said. "When would you have crossed paths?"

Aleco nodded in agreement. They sat in silence by the fire as Father Giloth sipped his tea and Aleco drained his supply of brandy.

Father Giloth stared at Aleco. "That isn't water," Father Giloth reminded him. He watched Aleco drink more of the amber liquid. Father Giloth usually kept brandy on hand for special events or when a party of guests stayed in the forest—but so much for that. He would have to hide the bottles from now on; both for Aleco's sake and his own. They were both lost in thought when the old man spoke.

"You will need to leave, Aleco."

Aleco nodded. He already expected this.

"They will come to question me. I will do my best to hide my knowledge of the entire affair, but I cannot lie if I'm asked a direct question. You need to be gone when they arrive," he said. "And don't tell me where you are headed."

"I wouldn't tell you anyway." He took a sip from his glass.

"I need you to do something for me, Aleco."

"Boggs," Aleco cursed. "Now what do you want?"

"I need you to take Accacia with you."

"Why?"

"She can't be here when they arrive," he said. "They will search every inch of this forest for her."

Aleco wondered why she was so special. An entire cavalry combing fields of hay for one needle was impressive. "What will I do with her?"

"Take her somewhere safe, do not tell me where, and bide your time before you return. Teach her the sword, the bow, self-defense."

"You're joking."

"I'm afraid not."

"Why?"

"I am certain she will need it," Father Giloth said. "And whatever you do, Aleco, do not show her your face."

Aleco was intrigued. "Why?"

"I'm sorry," he said. "Did I ruin your plans? Were you planning on showing her?"

"No," Aleco replied.

"Then it doesn't matter now does it?"

Aleco drank another glass just to irritate the old man. Father Giloth watched him finish his fifth brandy. "This isn't a contest."

"It's certainly not a close one." Aleco glanced at Father Giloth's petite teacup which he had yet to finish. It was his first glass.

"I ran into Devry," Aleco said after a moment.

Father Giloth looked at him. "What did he say?"

"He said the guild was still pursuing me, but that isn't the news worth mentioning," he said. "Drake has gifted them with rare stones. They have some unparalleled power and the Chief is interested in the material."

"What kind of power?"

"He said he didn't know."

"Why did Drake give them this gift?"

"I didn't ask," Aleco said.

Father Giloth looked into the fire. He didn't speak for several minutes as he thought to himself. Aleco didn't know what the stones were or what power Devry referred to and hoped Father Giloth knew.

"Do you have any ideas?" Aleco asked.

"Yes, but they are just ideas. I need to research this. Go to bed, Aleco," Father Giloth dismissed him. "Stop by the storage house and check on Accacia on your way."

Accacia felt the hot sting as she placed the towel that she soaked in herbal supplements over her injuries. The pain was so unbearable her eyes began to smart. She decreased the pressure on her skin then dropped the towel to the floor. She stared at the linen on the ground from where she sat on the bench, unable to convince herself to pick it up. Her back was to the door when Aleco entered.

"You can't stop," Aleco said. "You need to keep the pressure on or your body won't heal properly."

Accacia covered herself and wiped her tears away. Aleco hadn't noticed them until then. He sat on the bench beside her, grabbed the towel off the floor and looked into her face, which was contorted in pain. His heart immediately tugged for her, a sensation he hadn't felt in many years.

He placed the towel into the pot of warm water until it was engorged with the herbal medicine then squeezed the water from the fabric before he applied it to her bare back. She cringed with pain and whimpered at the burn of the medicine. She hugged her dress to her chest to cover herself.

"Shhh," he whispered as he caressed her shoulder with his other hand. "You don't have to be brave all the time."

His words hit home and she cried harder. She heaved with sobs that were broken and shallow. The intensity of her emotions startled him. It sounded like it was the first time she had ever grieved. He suspected the source of her tears wasn't the pain itself but the memory of her imprisonment, which flooded her mind now that she was safe.

Aleco applied the medicine across her back, arms, legs, and all the areas he could access without removing her gown. He whispered words of encouragement as he applied pressure, gently rubbing her back as he did so.

"I don't understand you," she whispered through her tears. "Which is it? Are you an asshole or are you not?"

"Not an asshole." Aleco laughed. "For now, at least. Ask me again tomorrow."

She laughed at his words.

Aleco finished the application of medicine and tossed the linen back into the pot. He looked at the severity of her injuries and noted the deep purple color and large size of her bruises. Anger swelled inside of him. "What did they do to you?"

"Everything you can think of," she whispered as she put the top half of her dress on.

"Why?"

She tucked her hair behind her ear and wiped the last of her tears away. "They wanted to teach me a lesson in disobedience." She stood up and began to put her supplies away.

Aleco got up and helped her. "What was your crime?"

"I failed to please my master," she said.

"You're a slave?" Aleco asked in surprise.

Accacia nodded.

"It is very unusual to put so much effort in imprisoning a slave, rather than killing them, and it is also rare to chase them across the continent." Aleco voiced his thoughts.

"Well, I am very important to my owner," she explained.

"Who is he?"

"Lord Drake is my master."

Aleutian Keep

9

"What do you mean she's gone," he yelled. Lord Drake slammed his fists against his wooden desk. It trembled against the force.

"How could she possibly escape?"

He grasped his glass of Aleutian wine and threw it across the room, shattering the cup into tiny fragments against the fireplace mantle. The escaped wine droplets kissed the floor and caused the fire to hiss in response.

"She is one woman. How could she flee?" He clinched his hair and screamed. Lord Letumian walked across the room, gripped the commander around the throat, constricting his windpipe, and watched the soldier's face turn purple as he tried to wrestle free.

He released his hold. "Return her to me," he hissed. "Or next time I won't let go." Drake pushed him to the ground and kicked his ribs with his heavy boot. The prone soldier moaned in response. He approached the remaining soldiers standing before him, all of whom wore faces of fear.

He closed his crystal blue eyes, sighed heavily, and reopened them. His demeanor changed from savage rage to determined vengeance. He stood tall over his inferiors and squared his shoulders before he spoke, his controlled words coming out slowly.

"Will someone tell me what happened?"

The soldiers remained quiet and looked to one another. They prayed someone in their cavalry had the answer. Finally, a brave soldier spoke.

"We don't know who stole her from the Prisoner's Circle, m' lord," he said. "He took her from the keep and slipped her outside of the city. We searched for Miss Accacia everywhere but we couldn't find her."

"You don't know who it was?" he asked.

"No, he always conceals his face from sight," added another soldier. "We believe it is the same man who attempted to enter the keep weeks ago. He fits the description."

Drake's handsome face remained stoic as he listened to their words. He crossed his arms across his muscled chest. "Describe his blade," he instructed.

The men looked at each other and hoped someone in their unit knew the description. "One man, spared by the perpetrator, stated his sword was solid black, like a piece of obsidian."

Lord Drake nodded to himself and rubbed his lips together. "I killed the man who snuck into the palace a few weeks ago. It cannot be the same man. This is someone else. Do you have any further descriptions?"

"No," the soldier responded.

"We will travel to Orgoom Forest," the duke said. "I suspect she will head there. I want every soldier, in every province, to search for her." He walked to his desk and sat in his high backed chair, blending in with the dim lighting of the room. "We will find her," he announced. "We leave in the morning." The soldiers exited the study and closed the door behind them, leaving the duke alone with his thoughts.

Accacia belonged to him. The idea that she tried to escape was almost amusing since she knew he would find her—eventually. Drake hoped it wouldn't be too long before he located her; his happiness depended on it.

He stared at the fire as his mind reminisced to their past encounters, all the countless times he ravaged her innocence, stealing her virtue; and how he enjoyed every moment of it. She fought back, screamed, and tried to kick him off, but that only aroused him even more. When he pressed his heavy body on top of her tiny frame and pinned her arms to her sides, he enjoyed her loud screams as he continually thrust himself inside of her. His desire for her never faltered, even through all the years he kept her in captivity. He retained a monogamous relationship with her since no other woman could fulfill his needs as she did.

Drake could feel the heat in his groin when he reflected on the past. When he spotted her in Orgoom Forest years ago, tilling the earth and pampering the plants under the warm sunlight, he knew he would have her. She looked exquisite in her tight clothing and cascading hair as she smiled in the fields and enjoyed the beautiful spring day. Against Father Giloth's protests, he whisked her away from her home and forced her to become his primary courtesan.

For the first few weeks, all she did was cry. The duke became so annoyed, he beat her senseless and demanded she never make that irritating sound in his presence ever again—she never did.

At first, he locked her up in her bedroom, only coming in to have his way with her, but Drake became frustrated traveling back and forth so he forced her to share his bedroom. She slept alongside him every night, and he wrapped his arms around her until morning. When he awoke, he would take her roughly before beginning his day.

The screaming and kicking eventually stopped and was replaced by indifference. He would press his body on top of her, and she would lay there, unresponsive. He would thrust inside of her repeatedly and she would look away, her mind somewhere else.

Drake, infuriated by her behavior, devised a plan to manipulate her and bend her to his will. They were having breakfast on the terrace, as they did every morning, when the duke's soldiers brought in a frightened boy.

Accacia spotted his trembling movements and outstretched her hands to him. He ran into her arms and hugged her. Accacia ran her hands through his hair and whispered encouragement into his ear. She turned to Lord Drake. "What is he doing here, Drake?' she asked.

The duke continued to eat, his eyes focused on his plate. "I am going to kill him, of course." He drained his glass of juice.

She turned away from the boy. "Why?" she demanded. "He is just a child."

"I am aware of that." He smiled.

The boy began to cry and Accacia returned to him. "What has he done?" she yelled.

Drake swallowed his eggs and wiped his lips with a napkin before he spoke. "He has done nothing, Accacia." He leaned back in his chair. "You are the one who is misbehaving. Unfortunately, he will be the one to receive the punishment. Very sad, isn't it? To know the boy will be executed because of your doing."

"Kill me instead," she said.

The smile disappeared from his lips and his crystal blue eyes faded to gray. "That isn't how it works, Accacia."

"Then what do you want?" she snapped.

He rose from his chair and walked over to Accacia. He pulled the child from her grasp and placed his hand on his shoulder. The child whimpered at his touch. "Do as I say, and I will let this young fellow go," he explained. "It's that simple."

Accacia stared at the child and saw the tears pour down his cheeks. Her heart ached. "What is it?" she asked.

Drake nodded to the guards, dismissing them from his presence. They closed the door behind them. He stared at Accacia's beautiful face and hoped his deviant plan was going to work. "When I take you, you will respond with enthusiasm. You'll desire me the way I desire you, by gripping my back, pulling me into you, and meeting my hunger thrust for thrust," he said as he stared at her body. "You will kiss me with vigor and moan happily at my touch. You will scream my name and beg me not to stop," he said. "You will initiate intercourse, ride me vigorously, and reach a state of euphoria alongside me. At any time you deviate from this agreement, I will kill the first child I see on the street, and force you to witness it." The duke pulled the sobbing child closer to him. "Do we have a deal?"

Accacia let her gaze fall from the duke's beaming face to the frightened child. It was one thing to be raped against her will, but to force her to act as if she enjoyed it was more difficult to bear. Lord Drake approached her, his handsome face almost touching hers. His eyes lingered on her wet lips and she could feel his breath upon her face. He waited for her decision.

She closed her eyes and calmed herself, steadying her heartbeat to a slow cadence. Emotion fled her body and was replaced by the task before her. When she opened her eyes, she saw his expectant gaze appraise her features. She reached up and placed her slender hands upon his chest, and then glided them to the back of his neck, pulling his face to hers. She kissed him deeply.

She gently massaged his lips with her own, sucking his bottom lip, and then slipped her small tongue into his mouth, where she met his own.

He moaned into her mouth as he relished the feel of her willing touch. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tight against his strong physique and ran his hand through the silky strands of dark hair he adored.

"Make love to me," she whispered.

He groaned in response.The sex was exactly what he wanted, but as soon he pulled out of her, she returned to her state of loathing and hatred. He watched her sleep, kissed her forehead, and held her hand during their meals. She didn't object nor did she reciprocate. The duke had been content with this relationship for a long time, but the more time he spent with her, slept with her, looked at her, his feelings began to develop into something more. Lord Drake was in love.

He knew she didn't feel the same, however. Despite his wealth, connections, handsome features, and his ability to make her climax, which he knew she did, she still hated him. The duke wanted her to feel the same way he did, even if she wasn't being truthful, so he threatened her again.

"I want you to love me, Accacia," he told her. "To touch me lovingly, kiss me tenderly, and tell me that you love me and no one else. That you cannot live without me and would rather die than be apart from me. I want you to give me your heart."

Accacia refused him. "You cannot ask this of me," she said. "I can be what you want sometimes, but not always. Everything between us would be a complete lie. You can force me to pretend to love you, but I never will. You are wasting your time."

Her rejection stung. He sent her to the Prisoner's Circle to be tortured and beaten until she changed her mind. Surely, loving him cannot be worse than such pain, he reasoned. He told her she could return and accommodate his request when she was ready. She was there for an agonizing three months before she was stolen from him.

The duke and his army entered the secluded realm of Orgoom Forest the following afternoon. The Naturalists all stared as he passed, recognizing him immediately. They made no comment as Lord Drake and his men trampled the flowers and grass of their holy place, destroying the life below their feet with the heavy footfalls of their brute horses.

His only response to their glares was a smile. When one of the Naturalists approached him to greet his army to their beloved forest, Drake spat directly into his face and continued on. "I am here to see the Chief Nature Priest, not a pathetic servant," he said. "You have no business speaking to me."

The soldiers that followed behind laughed and followed his example.

"Your highness," Father Giloth said as he approached them. "I do not condone this behavior upon my colleagues, and more importantly, my friends. If you continue this erratic decorum, I will force you to leave these woods until you have learned your manners." The old man stopped directly before the duke's horse. "It is better to acquire these skills now, rather than later, for I am sure you will offend quite a few people, especially in your line of work, m' lord."

The duke laughed. "You have no such power, old man."

"Do you question my sincerity?" Father Giloth threatened.

Drake knew the specific conditions of Father Giloth's impressive powers. As a Nature Priest, he was endowed with the ability to manipulate the land, elements, and even creatures. He could only retain these useful talents as long as his words were honest—he could not tell a lie. According to the scrolls, by practicing a virtuous life of truthfulness, he is in accordance with the balance of nature. Nature is truth, therefore, he is nature. The Nature God endowed the powers and abilities of the Chief Nature Priest to protect the forest and the souls of the land, humans and animals alike. Father Giloth had the aid of the gods under his force.

The duke was startled by his clear threat to dismiss one of the most prevalent sovereigns of the Continent, but he could not doubt the facts—he only spoke the truth. "I'll play nice." He smiled with his lips, but not his eyes. He couldn't afford to lose the respect of the soldiers he commanded.

"Thank you." Father Giloth smiled in return. "Now, how may I assist you? What warrants such an unexpected visit?"

The duke's attitude changed as soon as he thought of his prized possession. "I am here to reclaim a personal belonging—Accacia."

"I was unaware that a human could 'belong' to another," the Nature Priest said.

"Ask Accacia to explain it to you." Drake smirked. "I'm certain she could clarify it for you."

Father Giloth's smile evaporated. "Well, she is not here, your highness," he said coldly. "I am sorry you have wasted your time."

"Did she pass through your woods?" he asked.

Father Giloth stared at him. The direct question had him cornered.

"Well?" Drake pressed. "Did she come this way? Answer me."

"Yes," he admitted.

"Where is she?"

"I am clueless as to her whereabouts," he replied truthfully.

"Did her kidnapper accompany her?"

"No," Father Giloth responded. "Her kidnapper did not come with her." It was a mere technicality. In his opinion, Drake was the kidnapper, not Aleco.

The duke's countenance flushed with obvious disappointment—he was certain she would be there. Now she was gone from his grasp and so was the man who crossed him. He knew Father Giloth chose to live in ignorance. If he didn't know her location, he couldn't reveal it to the duke. His folly would be punished soon. "She will return here—eventually," he reasoned.

"Unlikely," stated Father Giloth. "Since it was once her childhood home, she knows you will anticipate her reappearance in these woods. If she doesn't want to be found, then logically, she wouldn't return here, not even to see her old man."

"I will leave nothing to chance," he snarled. "A handful of my men will wait for her arrival. When the bitch finally makes her return, my soldiers will drag her all the way to my keep by that beautiful brown hair. I will bloody her so severely, she will feel as though she has passed into a pleasant death, only to be viciously dragged back to the painful light."

Drake began his departure from the forest. "By the end, she will beg me to let her die."

Severstein Sea

10

"We are almost there!" Aleco's shouts were muffled by the sound of the storm. Accacia tightened the cloak around her body as she lagged behind him. The powerful wind pushed against them as they moved forward, and the heavy rain smacked hard against their faces, like pointed, frozen icicles. They trampled across the sandy beach to the camouflaged cave.

Accacia fell to the ground as the elements prevailed over her. Wet sand clung to her skin at the impact and she inhaled a mouthful of the dirt. Her vision blurred as exhaustion crept up on her. She heard the ocean crash against the shore as the wind propelled the salt water further up the beach. She wished she could see it.

Aleco cursed. He forced her to her feet and grasped her hand with his, leading her closer to their destination. They finally found the slit in the wall and slipped through the hidden entrance.

Aleco started a fire and prepared a kettle of hot water. Accacia dropped to the floor and leaned against the stone wall, trying to catch her breath. Her body convulsed from the stinging cold; the frozen blast had chilled her bones.

Aleco held a blanket in front of the fire. "Stand up," he demanded, his voice harsh. Accacia shook her head, too cold to speak. "Now," he commanded.

Trembling, Accacia got to her feet. Aleco removed her soaked cloak and hung it to dry. Due to her exhaustion, she didn't object when he removed her clothes. Aleco laid her in front of the fire and placed the wool fabric over her, knowing it would quickly return vital warmth to her body. Within minutes, she was asleep. Aleco walked to his locked chest and retrieved a metallic stone. He caressed it with his calloused fingertip until he fell asleep, the stone still clenched within his palm.

The crackle of the flames woke Accacia from her dreams the next morning. She clenched the warm blanket tightly as her mind came into awareness; she wanted to keep sleeping. She looked over at Aleco, asleep in his bed, fully clothed, and noticed the thin wisps of smoke hanging in the room.

She smiled, glad he had used the herb she gave him. Accacia sat up and quickly realized she was bare underneath the concealment of the wool. Her cheeks reddened at the revelation. Aleco had obviously undressed her. Although she understood it was necessary to her survival, Accacia couldn't help but feel the breach of her privacy. It was a sensation she was too familiar with. Aleco had said horrible things to her and had given her sufficient reason to hate him, but he never touched her against her will or tried to hurt her. The undressing was too disturbing and she immediately felt threatened. His behavior was unacceptable.

She spotted her clothes hanging over a chair and she dressed herself immediately, wanting to cover her naked body as quickly as possible for fear of what the sight might bring.

Aleco groaned as he sat up in bed and Accacia quickly covered her exposed breasts. "Don't look at me, Aleco."

Aleco sighed and faced the opposite wall. He hadn't realized she was changing, but he hadn't been looking at her either. He was annoyed that she accused him of the perverted thought. "I've already seen you, remember?" Aleco rose from the bed and walked past her, heading towards the exit. "Don't worry," he snapped. "It didn't do anything for me."

He walked outside and left her to finish donning her dry garments. She reflected on his behavior. Clearly, Aleco wasn't the type of man she was accustomed to. She felt guilty for immediately assuming the worst, but she couldn't stop the wariness in her heart. He had no idea what she had experienced at the hands of the cruel man that raped her on a daily basis.

"You're welcome—again," he said, startling her as he walked back through the opening. She jumped at the sound of his voice. "I really wish you would start trusting me."

"Coming from a man who never reveals an inch of his skin—not even his hands," she said. Although she doubted Aleco would hurt her or press his advantage on her, she wouldn't be stupid and put herself in a compromising situation. She couldn't stop herself from being cautious.

Aleco was unresponsive to her comment. He opened his storage of dried fruit and handed it to Accacia along with a cup of hot, black tea. "Accacia, if I was going to hurt you, I would have done it already," he said, still annoyed by the insult. He may have been an asshole to her, but he never gave her any reason to fear him for a sinister motive. He wouldn't have returned her to Father Giloth if his goal was to hurt her.

She ate her breakfast in silence, ignoring his last comment. She couldn't help but feel violated. She knew he had only undressed her to save her life, but she still felt frightened.

"Fine, be that way," he barked. Aleco returned the stone to the wooden chest at the foot of his bed and locked it once again, placing the key in his pocket. "I don't know what happened to you, Accacia, but I can assure you, I am not like whoever it was that made you this way."

Accacia sipped her tea, her eyes locked on the dying fire. "Thank you for taking care of me, Aleco," she said, attempting to change the subject.

"For the third time," he added.

"Yes," she laughed, "for the third time."

Aleco stared at her from the foot of the bed. Accacia felt his gaze on her face. His voice dropped to a whisper and made her skin prickle with unease. "I am not a selfless person, Accacia," he threatened. "I require payment for my services."

Her eyes widened in surprise—she knew where this was going. Her heartbeat raced in alarm, and she felt frightened of what he would demand of her. His words were too similar; even his voice was too familiar. She felt perspiration drench her palms and the fear take over. She was in a secluded cave, alone with a man she hardly knew. Accacia suddenly felt stupid for making such a thoughtless decision. "Oh?" She ran her hand through her hair and tried to slow her beating heart, attempting to remain calm.

Aleco sat at the edge of the bed directly before her and stared. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as she dreaded his next words. She wondered if he could hear it beating. "Tell me what I want to know," he said. "Why were you at the Prisoner's Circle? I know you already confessed a small part, but I need to know more—and you are going to tell me."

Accacia's body flooded with relief. She was expecting a very different demand and she was elated to be wrong. The tightened hold on her heart loosened and she let herself breathe again. Lowering her hands from her strands of hair, she placed them in her lap. "I would rather not," she said, as her heart filled with melancholy at the memory. She didn't want to reminisce about her time with that perverse man and impart the tale to someone else, especially Aleco. She knew he would judge her immoral actions. She sipped her tea and looked away.

"I don't care what you want," he said. "I require it as payment. You should be grateful I am not asking for something more."

Accacia said nothing. He couldn't force her to tell him anything—he had just indicated he would never harm her so the choice was hers. Even if she didn't confide in him, he wouldn't beat it out of her. She felt guilty for ever thinking it. Just because Aleco hid his face and was habitually rude didn't he mean his intentions weren't honorable. She looked at him. "Why are you so interested?" she asked.

"Does it matter?"

"I have one condition." She sighed. "You are not to speak, comment, or joke about my disturbing experiences—and we are never to address it again."

"Fair enough," he said.

Accacia explained her relationship with Lord Drake from the day she was captured to the day she escaped. She detailed her perverted intimacies with the duke; how he forced her to complete crude tasks against her will, bound her petite frame against the bed while he raped her, and the intense beatings she received if she shed a single tear in response to the traumatic horror she was subjected to. "He demanded that I love him and when I refused, he shipped me to Morkarh, where I was subjugated to regular rounds of torture and beatings until I had a change of heart. I was there for three months until my mentality broke, and I decided I would rather die in that prison than be forced under him any longer. That's when I consumed the poison—I didn't want to live anymore." Accacia intertwined her fingers and stared at the fire, holding back the tears that stung behind her eyes. "Until you rescued me," she added.

Aleco rose from the bed and paced the room, anger leaking through his skin. The malicious acts of the duke disgusted him. His cruelty needed to be put to an end. Aleco hated himself even more. He was responsible for this. Now he understood the meaning of Father Giloth's previous words. And whatever you do, Aleco, do not reveal your face.

"Accacia—"

"Please don't." She sniffed.

Aleco sat on the floor across from her. She flinched at his sudden proximity. He spotted her distress and forced himself to bridle his anger. How could she treat him as if he was like Drake? "Accacia, I'll never let that bastard near you again," he said. "I promise."

"Why do you care?"

"I—" Aleco paused. Why did he care so much? Aleco was the one responsible for her pain. If he hadn't been such a coward, this could have been avoided. She wouldn't be crying right now. "I—just do."

Accacia wiped her tears with her sleeve. She hadn't looked at Aleco once, and wanted to change the subject. Accacia had answered his question like he demanded, and now she wanted to think of it no longer. She hated feeling the pain. Even though Accacia had just confessed her heartbreaking experience, she somehow found her bewitching smile and finally met his gaze. "So, you're not an asshole?"

"For now." Aleco laughed. Perhaps, this is why he cared for her. Despite her gruesome history, she was strong enough to continue forward, always with an infectious laugh and a dazzling smile. It was unfortunate Aleco couldn't adopt her attitude—but a stream can't simply switch its course by will alone.

Accacia drank her tea, which was warm and delicious, and Aleco returned to his chest and dug through the items until he retrieved a metallic, glossy stone. "I have something for you." Aleco offered her the shiny gem.

She repeated the same tempered words he had snarled to her when they approached the border of Father Giloth's lands days ago. "I don't want it."

"Too bad," he completed the dialogue with a smile in his voice.

"What is it?" she asked as she rubbed her smooth skin over the marble flesh of the stone, examining its dimensions.

"A Soul Catcher," he said.

"I've never heard of such an object."

"Because they are extremely rare," Aleco explained. "This gem allows you to store memories. It acts as a visual journal. You can store images and recollections within the stone, to be retrieved whenever you want to relive the moment."

Accacia gazed at the stone again, but this time in awe.

Aleco continued. "They grant you the ability to not only remember an event that was important to you, but to relive it, experience it again. You can see someone you've lost, remember something you've forgotten, feel something you haven't felt in many years."

Accacia looked at him. "This is amazing, Aleco," she whispered as she appraised the priceless stone. "But I cannot accept it." She returned the gem.

Aleco flicked her hand away. "Keep it," he said. "I already have one."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," he said. "It's a lot more convenient than carrying around a journal," he teased.

She gripped it tightly within her palm, cherishing the invaluable jewel. The stone was her vehicle into blissful memories, allotted time and space where she could revisit pleasant flashbacks, and have a reason to smile. "Yes, it is." She grinned.

Accacia massaged the cold stone with her fingertips, her eyes locked on her own movements. She wondered what Aleco deemed worthy enough to store within his own gem—if he'd experienced anything worth remembering.

Aleco tossed her an ordinary steel blade which she caught with both hands. She looked confused so he answered her unspoken question. "I am going to teach you the blade."

"Why?"

"A request from Father Giloth," Aleco replied, his voice full of annoyance. "I thought you wanted to learn?"

"I do."

She stared at the sword. She gripped the handle incorrectly and it fell to the sand at her feet. Aleco sighed to himself as he watched her. Accacia grabbed it again but it slipped from her grasp like a wet fish. He knew this was going to be difficult. "It's just a sword," he said. "Pick it up."

Accacia retrieved the sword and held it in her grasp. She looked at the blade as if it was alive, about to fly from her hands by its own will.

The storm had passed, allowing the sun to shine in the cloudless sky and bake the sand under their feet. Aleco and Accacia stood on the beach near the edge of the shore, facing each other and preparing to spar.

Accacia let her embarrassment leave her body as she looked at the sky and saw the beaming sun. She enjoyed the kiss of the sunstar on her flawless skin, and she adorned herself in a light shirt and tight leggings, no longer fearful of attracting unwanted male attention. Aleco was the only male, with the exception of Father Giloth, which she felt this comfortable with—she trusted him. It was obvious he harbored no attraction to her.

Aleco wore his typical attire—a cloak and hood that hid his entire visage. Accacia wished he felt more comfortable around her. She knew wearing such heavy clothing had to be unbearable, especially in the heat of the scorching sun. A slight breeze tasseled the strands of her hair and she was thankful for the respite.

He could sense the change in their relationship since the evening before. Accacia's walls had finally fallen—for the most part. She felt at ease around him, no longer threatened or fearful of his unknown intent. Not only was she friendly and nice when he didn't deserve her kindness, but she felt innately safe around him. She truly believed that he wouldn't harm her in any way.

"Grip the handle with both hands at all times," he instructed. "With a long sword such as this, it is necessary. You aren't strong enough to carry the weight with one arm." He gripped his own blade, which was midnight black with sparkling black gems in the handle. It was the most unusual sword Accacia had ever seen.

Aleco taught her various stances, defense maneuvers, and offensive attacks. She was a quick learner. He was surprised how effortless it was for her to repeat the gestures and with such ease. Either he was a skilled instructor, or she was a natural. He couldn't tell which.

Aleco swung his sword and they sparred. He decreased his deadly swordsmanship, allowing her to utilize the novel skills she attained. He did not want to discourage her basic attempt by revealing his deadly adroitness. She could practice for years, but no one would ever match Aleco's ability with a sword.

They sparred on the beach until Accacia was so exhausted she could barely lift her sword. Her chest and neck were dripping with sweat, and she was parched and famished from their exercise. After a few hours, she dropped her sword to the ground, unable to go on. Aleco ended the lesson and the pair turned in for the evening. The sun had set behind the mountains, and the chill of the ocean crawled upon the beach, causing Accacia to shiver from the cold. A fog drifted to the shore and blocked the view of the sea from the cave's entrance. The sound of the approaching tide was the only proof it was still out there.

They sat in front of the fire and consumed their dinner. Aleco ate the fresh cod he caught that afternoon, and Accacia nibbled on the bread she infused with raisins and cherries.

"How did you find this place?" Accacia asked.

"Lucky chance."

"It's lovely," she said. "You should build a house on the beach. You could gaze at the ocean from your window and watch the waves crash against the shore—it would be beautiful."

"I'll stick to the cave," Aleco said sarcastically.

"Fine. I'll live in the house and you can remain in this crowded, bat infested enclosure," she said with disdain. She looked at the corners of the room, waiting for a bat to fly across the cave.

Aleco stopped eating. "First of all, have you seen a single bat while you've been here?" he asked. "And secondly, what makes you think you are going to live in my grotto?"

"Well, I have nowhere else to go," she admitted with flushed cheeks. "I've been with Father Giloth for as long as I can remember, and I can never return there. So, I need to find a place elsewhere."

"So you've conveniently picked mine?"

"No," Accacia said. "I've picked the beach. We would be neighbors, really."

"I don't think so," he said. He chewed the white fillets of the roasted fish. "I picked this deserted beach so I could be rid of people."

"Well, I'm not people—I'm your friend."

"I have no friends."

"Now you do." She smiled.

Aleco put his plate aside and looked at her face. He was equally pleased and annoyed by her fetching smile. "I should have just let you die when I had the chance," he said. Accacia could hear the humor in his voice.

"We all make mistakes," she teased. She moved to an armchair by the fire and grabbed a book from a shelf, The Lost People of Asquith, and began to read by the light of the flames. The book detailed an ancient people to the west of the Continent. They were embodied with mysterious ancient powers. Supposedly, they worshiped the water element, claiming all life originated from its source. The Asquith people were also remembered for their manufacture of deadly weapons, and their open appreciation for nature and respect for its creatures. As a united race, they refrained from eating meat, even when on the verge of starvation, stating it was a crime worse than murder. "Have you read this?" she asked Aleco.

"Many times."

"What happened to them?"

"No one really knows. Somehow, their island sank beneath the ocean. The sea covered the entire surface of their land. It's a bit of a mystery," he said. "The entire race is believed to have gone extinct due to the tragedy."

Accacia's heart squeezed in pain. She felt an immense depression at the revelation, even though it was for a civilization she didn't know existed until that moment. Accacia closed the book. "Aleco?" she asked.

"Hmm?" he said. His gaze was fixed on the dancing flames of the hearth, his thoughts somewhere else. He waited for her to ask her question, knowing it had something to do with the contents of the book. He'd read the novel so many times, he practically had every word memorized. There wasn't a lot to do in the cave and sometimes he got bored. Accacia hesitated before she spoke; he wondered what was taking her so long. "Out with it."

"Why do you always hide your face?"

The sound of the crackling flames echoed in the dim hollow as the silence became deafening. Aleco's shoulders stiffened at the unwanted provocation, and he clenched both of his fists. He hadn't expected her to ask that question. Accacia saw the lean tendons of each of his hands swell from his dry and weathered skin. She immediately regretted her curiosity. "That's none of your concern." The atmosphere in the room changed. The calm and peaceful evening ignited into one of fierce tension.

"I told you my darkest secret," she said. "Why can't you tell me yours?"

"I don't have to tell you anything."

"I promise I won't say a word," she whispered.

"Take my advice; you don't want to see it."

"I highly doubt that, Aleco."

"Well, I don't," he said.

Accacia looked directly into his hood, a look of hurt on her face. "How can you not trust me?"

"It's not that," he sighed, "but, no, I don't trust you—I trust no one."

Accacia was silent as she stared at him. Aleco returned his gaze to the fire, avoiding the look on her face. She was wounded that he still didn't feel comfortable confiding in her. She had revealed her dark past to him, and he accepted it with no comment. She didn't understand why he wouldn't reciprocate. They had been traveling together for weeks and she felt a connection with him; surely he felt it too. Accacia knew he needed a friend, an ally to help carry the burden of his pain. She didn't understand what she had done to be unworthy of his confidence. The sting of hurt and betrayal flooded her body. She felt stupid for telling him something so personal about herself. Finally, she said what she felt. "You are an asshole." Accacia left the warmth of the fire and exited the den, choosing to freeze in the coldness of the night rather than sit alongside him by the comfortable flames of the hearth.

Aleutian Keep

11

Victor entered the study with trepidation. The duke was never pleased with the news he brought him, and he was certain this instance would be no different than any other.

The duke sat at his walnut colored desk, his hand gripping a glass of Aleutian wine and his eyes glued to the flames within the black wooden hearth. Drake rarely completed work in this room; he just depleted the liquor storage.

Victor noticed the duke had been particularly displeased these past few weeks, ever since the news that his beloved courtesan, Accacia, escaped her imprisonment in the Prisoner's Circle in Morkarh. Drake's moods had always been volatile, changing randomly like the weather, and his unexpected tantrums could never be predicted, but lately it was even worse. Victor wasn't surprised that Accacia had risked her life to escape his clutches. He was fond of the girl. She was always genuinely nice to him when the duke wasn't around and pitied her because of her predicament.

The duke noticed Victor approach his desk, but he finished his glass of wine before speaking.

"What say you?" he asked. "Has she been found?"

"No, m'lord," he said.

Drake refilled his glass of wine. "Then why are you here?"

The tension in the room elevated. Victor could hear the hum of static in the air. "Lord Aleutian, we have done everything we can to find Miss Accacia. The soldiers of the border have not seen anyone enter or leave the forest with her description, nor have they seen anyone in the neighboring cities," he said. "She must be hiding in the wilderness."

The duke fixed his gaze on the servant. Victor flinched under the stare, understanding the anger flashing in his eyes. Apparently, Victor had said the wrong thing. "Then why don't you look there?" he asked. The duke rose from his seat and approached Victor around the desk. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword. "You aren't called before the duke to explain what you didn't do," he hissed. "But what you have done...well, obviously, you haven't done as I asked. Perhaps you are no longer necessary." He released his sword from his scabbard and held it to his servant's throat.

"Wait," Victor said. "I have other news."

The blade reflected the light of the flames in the hearth. The duke stared at his servant impatiently, waiting for him to speak. "Well," he said. "I'm waiting."

"Pons is here," he said. "He has responded to your call."

Drake sheathed his sword. "Very well," he said. "Perhaps you aren't completely useless. Send him in."

"Yes, m'lord," he breathed.

He dashed from the study into the hall. Pons entered the room and closed the door behind him, approaching the desk. "Good afternoon, Lord Aleutian," Pons said. He wore the cloak of his guild but his mask was absent. The renowned black sword hung at his waist.

"I need your assistance," he said, handing Pons a glass of whiskey. Pons downed the liquid in one gulp. Drake smiled at him and poured another.

"As always, the guild is at your disposal," Pons said as he wiped the amber liquid from his lips.

"Of course it is," he said. "My primary courtesan, Accacia, has gone missing. She escaped from the Prisoner's Circle weeks ago. I need you to find her—for a hefty reward, of course."

Pons nodded.

"Return Accacia to me, and I will reward your organization with sixty luna," he said.

Pons's eyes widened at the sum. It was clear how important this courtesan was to the duke. Drake took another swallow from his glass. "I want her alive, and unpillaged. If any of your men violate her in any way—they will be executed, stomped like ants beneath my boot. She is mine," he said. "Do you understand?"

"Of course, sire."

"Excellent. It seems that we have struck a deal."

Pons nodded.

"I have another boon to ask of you," he said. "Lukein from Paso Robles needs to be—eliminated."

Pons nodded. "A frame or accident?"

"A death by natural means," the duke said. "Pons—this needs to happen soon—very soon. The first council meeting will commence in a few weeks and Lukein needs to be out of the way before then."

"We will see to it," he replied.

"You will collect your reward when the deed is done. You may go." Drake dismissed him. "And send Victor in on your way out."

"Yes, sire." Pons left the room and shut the door behind him.

Victor entered the study once again, his thoughts on his wife and children in the city. If he died, who would care for them? He had taken this job to support his family, and he never confessed just how dangerous the position was—that his ruler could strike him down at any moment. Victor approached the desk and waited.

"Send the most attractive courtesan you can find to my quarters—I like brunettes."

"Anything else, sir?" he asked. Victor was relieved by the simple request. He wiped the sweat from his brow.

"Yes," he said. "She better be good."

Victor felt the beads of sweat return to his forehead. "Very well, sire."

Victor left the presence of the duke and traveled to the brothel within the city. He asked for the most popular prostitute and paid a hefty fine for the entire evening. Victor didn't care about the cost—as long as the duke was satisfied, Victor got to keep his head.

The duke entered his bedchamber and saw the courtesan lying on his bed—completely naked. She was a brunette—like he requested—but her tits were larger than he preferred and her waist wasn't as petite as he wished. He knew he was comparing her to Accacia, a rare find, but that's what he desired. However, he would make do with this one. He could use his imagination for once.

He forced her onto her stomach and had his way with her. In his mind, he imagined the petite form of his beloved Accacia, the silky strands of flowing locks that met her shoulders and the small but firm breasts he loved to caress. The sound of Accacia's moans brought him to the brink, and he cried her name as he thrust inside of her, releasing his sexual energy. He lay beside her as her hands rubbed his chest. He looked over at the woman, and after realizing it really wasn't Accacia, tossed her hands from his body. "You may go." He dismissed her.

The woman gathered her clothes and left his bedchamber. The duke sighed to himself. He wished he'd never sent Accacia to that accursed prison. If he hadn't, she never would have escaped. She would be there with him. Drake thought about the years they spent together, and one moment stood out in particular.

Drake had been her escort to a wedding in Roslyn. The Duke Artremian Roslyn had wed a pretty girl from the city. She had no royal family lineage; in fact, she was merely a peasant, but the duke had insisted she be his wife. He claimed he loved her.

Drake thought his choice was ill-advised if he wanted to be crowned King of the Continent. Artremian claimed he didn't, and this news satisfied Drake because he wanted to be king after all. The various factions of the Continent had been divided for many years, every realm having their own culture and government system, but Drake didn't understand why they didn't have one unified leader. It would make trade agreements easier and the chance of war impossible. Drake knew he was the best man for the job. It was his intelligence and methodical planning that got him the title of duke in the first place and he had no plans to stop there.

Accacia wore a beautiful green silk dress to the ceremony, and he smiled as everyone looked at his date with lust. She was polite and well-spoken to the officials and dukes of other realms. Drake knew they were impressed by his choice. He also knew they envied him.

He hugged her waist as they watched the progression. When the bride made her entrance to the ceremony, Accacia said how beautiful she looked and Drake looked at the woman in doubt. She looked like a porcupine compared to Accacia.

"If you say so," he mumbled.

Accacia ignored his comment.

The idea of Accacia in a wedding dress at their ceremony, with everyone staring at his property with jealousy and longing, made his smile widen. He knew there would never be a more beautiful bride than she. Despite Accacia's humble beginnings, he would marry her for that reason alone. If his plans worked out right, he would be king before he married anyway. Then, he could have whoever he desired.

Drake ordered Accacia to remain at the table while he spoke to the officials at the reception. Drake dropped his drink when he spotted Lord Lukein across the pavilion chatting with Accacia, his head bent back with uncontrolled laughter at her comment. She smiled at him as he was overcome with merriment. Anger coursed through Drake's veins at the sight. Lukein was his biggest adversary.

Drake grabbed Accacia by the elbow and kissed her hard. When he pulled away, a silent look of menace flashed across his face and she clearly understood that she would pay for her actions later. Drake turned his gaze to Lord Lukien, the Duke of Paso Robles, from the northern part of the Continent. It was no secret he wanted the crown as much as Drake did.

"I was just sharing a laugh with your lovely girl here," Lukien said. "It's nice to know someone around here has a sense of humor."

Drake's eyes blackened at his words. Accacia was prohibited from speaking with anyone without his presence or permission, and she had done both. However, Drake suspected the duke had coaxed her into it. Trying to pry information from her, he presumed. "Yes, she does have quite a mouth, I can say that much," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "I hope you are enjoying the reception of this lovely wedding."

"Yes, very much." He smiled. "It is nice to get a private word with the council. You never know when a simple chat will tip the scales."

"But I'm sure you tip the scales with something other than words, Lukein."

Lord Lukein eyed him. "Perhaps, but only because I have the funds to do so," he said. "Unfortunately, not all underprivileged realms have such resources." Lord Lukein referred to the starvation Letumian had experienced in the midst of trade agreements with Roslyn years ago. Miscommunication led to idle threats, which turned into an embargo on all production goods to Letumian. The starvation had been minimal, and only a few of the poorer citizens had passed, but the news spread like wildfire, hurting Drake's reputation as a ruler.

Drake stepped closer to him. He was fighting with his internal temper, forcing his hands to remain at his sides. If he had a public fight with a neighboring ally, it would hurt his reputation further.

"Darling." Accacia grabbed his forearm. "Let's go," she said as she pulled him away. Accacia hadn't done it for Drake, but for Lukein, who had been pleasant to her. She didn't want to see any bloodshed, especially if she could prevent it.

Drake shrugged her arm away. He was angry with her disobedience and she could see the anger in his eyes. The only reason he hadn't yelled or slapped her was because they were in public. She took the opportunity to soften his anger to avoid a beating later, so she kissed him passionately, right in the middle of the pavilion. He responded to her affection and returned her embrace, and she knew his fury had ebbed.

As an allied duke, Drake and his guest were accorded guestrooms within the palace, so they slept in a guest bedchamber that evening. When they entered the room, Accacia prepared herself for the beating about to ensue, but Drake kissed her instead. His kiss began lightly on the lips then moved to her jawline and further down to her neck. Drake felt Accacia flinch at his embrace, unaccustomed to the tenderness. He dropped her dress to the floor and commanded Accacia to undress him. She lay on the bed, and for the first time, the duke took Accacia gently, almost lovingly. She looked so beautiful that evening, and she was charming to every person she encountered. She would be a perfect queen.

The memory faded away like the dying embers in the hearth. It was the first night he considered her more than just a slave, but as a woman he truly cared for, even loved—if such a thing were possible.

Severstein Sea

12

Aleco sat beside the blaze of the fire, alone, waiting for her to return to the safety of the cave. He couldn't sleep knowing she was outside, too stubborn to retreat to the warmth of his asylum. Tired of waiting for her to reappear on her own, Aleco went outside in search of her.

She was sitting on the sandy beach, watching the white caps brush the shore, her lithe body shivering in the frigid air. He sat alongside her and listened to the music of the cascading waves that beat against the shore with ferocity.

"I can't sleep knowing you are out here alone," he said over the powerful waves.

"I'll go—inside—when—I'm ready," she said through chattering teeth.

"Come now," he said. "You're freezing."

"I'm fine," she whispered.

"If you don't come inside, I will carry you," he threatened.

She clutched herself tighter. "Do not touch me, Aleco," she said. "I will never forgive you—I mean it."

Aleco sighed to himself. She could be so infuriating. "Fine," he said.

Aleco rose from the beach. Accacia presumed to return to the cave unaccompanied. Suddenly, she felt the warmth of his large cloak encompass her entire body, and the hood surround her fair face, cupping her frozen cheeks. Aleco's scorching body heat was trapped within the fabric, and it warmed her chilled body. Although Accacia was still angry with him, she was so frozen she didn't care.

Realization dawned upon Accacia as her eyes widened in surprise. Aleco was no longer hidden beneath his cloak. He had revealed himself to her. Aleco returned to his seat beside her. His shadowed profile was difficult to distinguish in the darkness of the night. She refrained from staring directly at him out of fear of offending him.

Accacia reminded herself not to react when she saw his appearance. If he was hideous, deformed, or burned, she didn't want him to see her distress at his countenance, and assume that she, too, thought he was repulsive. Her heart was beating fast in her chest.

"Well," he said. "Are you going to look at me or not?"

"Are you giving me permission?"

"Yes," Aleco said, "but before you do, I need to warn you—"

"I'm not scared of how you look, Aleco," she said. "I will treat you exactly the same."

"Accacia, listen to me." He silenced her. "You will be frightened of me, you will scream, and you may even run, which is why I am telling you this now," he explained. "I am still me, the man you have traveled with, and I promise I will never hurt you—ever."

"I know, Aleco."

Aleco sighed. "Let's get this over with."

They walked back to the hidden chamber, Aleco trailing close behind Accacia the entire way. They entered the cozy shelter and Accacia approached the fire with Aleco behind her. She took a deep breath and turned around. Aleco was right—she screamed.

Accacia fled to the corner of the room, her hands sliding against the stone wall for balance as she stared at the horrifying countenance she knew so well. The frightening man who stole her innocence, stripped away years of her freedom, and damaged her so severely she almost took her own life stood before her—Drake. She screamed again.

"I knew this was a bad idea." Aleco sighed. He rubbed his face with his coarse palms, and advanced to the opposite side of the room, as far away from her as possible. "Father Giloth was right," he said through gritted teeth. He hated admitting that the old man was right.

Accacia slid to the floor and her breathing slowed as Aleco decreased their proximity. Aleco saw the terror upon her face and hated being the cause of it. "Accacia, it's still me," he said. He tried to make her laugh. "I'm still the same asshole."

"I'm sorry," she said. She found her voice and stifled her tears. "I—just wasn't—expecting—"

"I know," Aleco said.

"How is this possible?" she asked. "I never knew he had a twin."

"It's not something he mentions often." Aleco smiled.

"Is that why you conceal your face?" she asked. "I don't understand."

"He thinks I'm dead—and I want him to continue to believe that."

"Why?" she questioned.

"Because," Aleco explained, "if he knows that I'm alive, he will try to kill me—again."

"Aleco, I still don't understand," she repeated. "Why did he try to kill you?"

Aleco sighed. It was a very long story and one that he would rather not tell. "We should just wait until we see Father Giloth again. He is better at explaining family betrayals than I am," he said. "I don't want to discuss it. Be thankful I revealed so much to you already."

Aleco looked at Accacia and saw the look of apprehension still on her face. He decided his visage was too disturbing for her and reached his hand out. "Hand me back my cloak."

"No—I don't want you to wear it."

"Accacia, I am not offended," he said.

"No," she assured him. "It will just take some getting used to."

She sat before the fire and gestured for him to sit across from her. He approached the hearth, hesitantly, and leaned against the bedframe to face her. She examined his face, inspecting every detail, comparing his likeness to the brutal twin she knew so well. The more she gazed at his features, the more differences she noticed. His face was thinner and more hollowed, his eyes a brighter shade of blue, and his skin was fair. Of the two, she deemed him to be the more attractive one.

Aleco was annoyed by her stare. Just the thought of Accacia comparing him to that demon made his stomach churn. "Are you done?"

Embarrassed, Accacia looked away. "Yes," she replied.

Aleco eyed her, waiting for her to grab her pack and sprint to the exit. "Are you going to run away from me?"

"No." Accacia reached out and squeezed his hand. "I'm fine. The two of you look almost identical, but your features differ slightly, although I'm unsure if I could spot the alterations between the pair of you if you stood next to one another."

"Just a quick exchange of words, and you would know who the real Aleco is." He winked.

Accacia awoke to the sound of Aleco packing his gear. He buckled his thick leather belt around his waist and inserted Stella and some other sharp daggers into its holdings. He placed his bow across his back and tightened the straps of his thick boots. "I'll be back before dark, Accacia," he said as he sheltered his face within the heavy folds of his hood, concealing his profile once again.

She rose from his narrow pallet, which Aleco insisted she sleep on, and pulled the brunette hair from her thin neck and shapely face. "Where are you going?" she asked even though she didn't expect an answer.

"I need to send a message to Father Giloth," he said.

"I'll come with you," Accacia offered as she rose from the mattress.

"No." He held up his gloved hand to her. "That won't be necessary."

Aleco walked to the invisible slit in the cave. "If I don't return by tonight then I've been killed or captured," Aleco said. He tightened his gloves around his wrists. "Don't bother looking for me."

"Be safe," she whispered.

He turned to her one last time. "And if I am executed, the grotto belongs to you," he said. "Then you can build that pathetic house of yours."

Aequor Plains

13

Aleco tied the coded message to the muscled leg of the falcon he'd lured. The simple harmony Father Giloth taught him was enough to gain the trust of any creature of flight, even though it was in a language Aleco couldn't translate. The sound of his tune wasn't nearly as pleasant as the old man's, whose voice resonated perfectly with the words. Aleco's song was always out of key, raspy, and overall unpleasant—which was why he insisted Accacia remain behind. Aleco refused to sing the lullaby in front of anyone. He watched the mighty bird soar through the never-ending sky, beating its powerful wings to rush to its destination—Orgoom Forest.

The plains extended far over the horizon, stretching from the shore of the ocean to the forest of Aequor. The wind twisted through the slight hills of the plain, ruffling Aleco's cloak and making the end of his cape dance at his feet. The winter season always announced its approach in this subtle way. Even with the protection of his thick gloves, Aleco's knuckles cracked in the dry air. His skin felt like reptilian scales. His eyes remained locked to the blue heavens until a familiar voice shattered his reverence.

"Look what I found." The man sauntered over to Aleco, and spun a shiny dagger between his fingertips as he approached him. The man wore the dress of his guild: a black cloak with red trimming, a charcoal bow, and a concealing mask that covered his nostrils and lips, revealing only his deep brown eyes. The constant curve of his bushy eyebrows made him always appear displeased.

Aleco sighed to himself. The guild must have spotted his advancement across the flat plains. Aleco was annoyed—he was in a hurry. "Pons," Aleco replied. The Serpentine Guild was a secret society; an organization of thieves, assassins, and talented liars that performed the bidding of others for an immaculate price. While they lacked the morals and ethics of everyday men, they had strict rules that governed their assembly—Aleco had broken the biggest rule of all.

Aleco's muscled frame was constricted tight with tension. He gripped Stella's metallic handle, ready to strike. Pons glanced down to Aleco's hand. "Calm down, Aleco," he said. He sheathed his dagger within his cloak. "I am not here to detain you—yet."

Aleco released his hold. "What do you want?"

"Is that how you greet an old friend?"

"I wouldn't know."

Pons laughed. "I have a missive for you."

"Not interested," Aleco said as he turned away.

"Too bad," he said. "The reward is sixty lunas."

Aleco's eyes widened. That was the largest payment offered—ever. "What is the missive?"

"I thought you might change your mind," he said. "The reward was posted by the Duke of Letumian, for the return of something very valuable—a woman, who is said to be highly alluring. All we have to do is return her alive—and unpillaged."

Aleco's heart skipped a beat. His thoughts immediately turned to his new, irritating, traveling companion. He retained a stoic expression, his tone full of indifference. "What is the name of the wench?"

Pons was quiet for a moment as he tried to recall the name of the woman he sought. He finally recovered the information. "Accacia—yes, that is the name."

Aleco's heart fell into his stomach. "I'm not interested," he repeated. Aleco walked away, leaving Pons on the field.

Pons watched Aleco step away from him and the defiance boiled his blood. The light tone of his voice transformed into a growl. "Now I will have to detain you, Aleco."

Other members of the Serpentine Guild revealed themselves from the darkness of the trees, all of whom wore the same menacing attire, and stood alongside Pons with squared shoulders and menacing scowls. Their arrows were aimed at the center of Aleco's broad back. He didn't need to turn around to see their presence—he knew they were there.

Aleco halted his departure and faced them. "What do you seek from me?" he asked. "If you need my assistance, you are bigger imbeciles than I gave you credit for. How difficult can it be to find a single, wandering whore?"

Their arrows were now directed at his heart. "Your tracking skills supersede all of ours—combined," Pons said. "We need to complete this task quickly, so we need all the assistance possible. The Chief will be very displeased if another hunter finds her and claims the tenure." Pons approached Aleco. "You may have emancipated yourself from our organization, a crime punishable by death let me remind you, but you will never escape our hold—we will always find you, Aleco. And one day, when we finally have exhausted our use for you, we will kill you." The guildsman grasped his shoulder and glanced down at the familiar black sword Aleco carried. "Fortunately, for you, today is not that day." Pons released his hold and the other men retracted their bows. "By the way, Aleco, if we do not locate this woman soon and someone else beats us to it, the blame will be placed upon you—and your death will be imminent. So, I suggest you work quickly."

Aleco clenched his jaw. If he valued his life, he would have to return Accacia and force her to endure the torture he promised to protect her from. If he refused, he would be killed. What was more important—her life or his own? The once problematic decision suddenly became an easy one. "I will find her and return her to you," he said. "Keep the coin—I have no need for it." Aleco turned away from the group and began his departure.

"We look forward to your return, Aleco."

Severstein Sea

14

Accacia was doodling in the sand with her slender finger when Aleco returned to the grotto. "What is that supposed to be?" Aleco asked as he stared at her indistinct drawings. She looked up and grinned at him, dismissing his cheeky comment, and displayed her obvious delight at his safe return. She rose from the sand and opened her arms.

Aleco recognized her intent. He stepped away from her oncoming embrace and advanced to the alcove. Her face fell in a frown at his rejection, unsure what caused his abrupt mood swing. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear then stared at his receding back. As he walked, he listened to the waves of the ocean crash against the shore, along with the sharp cries of the seagulls as they paraded the beach, battling one another for their next meal. The sun was setting in the horizon, splashing the sky with a blood-red tint.

He entered the cave with Accacia in tow. Aleco pulled back his hood, inhaled the salty air and filled his lungs with the acrid smell he was so familiar with—the scent of home. The sour sting of his nostrils calmed his anxiety.

Aleco removed his heavy cloak and tossed it onto the bed frame. Accacia gasped, still unaccustomed to his chilling appearance. Aleco ignored her—she was going to have to get used to it.

Accacia regained her composure. "I'm glad you're back," she said. She sat before the fire across the room. Aleco fell into the chair by his bedside and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He didn't respond to her comment, but took a drink from his glass instead. He watched the flames in the hearth and reflected on the afternoon. Aleco didn't know how he could keep Accacia safe from the guild as well as the Letumian soldiers. He knew he couldn't hide her in his cave forever.

"What troubles you, Aleco?" she asked.

He took another drink and ignored her question. Accacia stared at him but he didn't look her way. She knew he wasn't going to respond. Accacia opened the detailed writings of the Asquith people and continued to read where she left off.

As Aleco withdrew the Soul Catcher from his pocket, he caressed it with his calloused fingers and felt the smooth surface of the stone. He closed his eyes and deposited his memory from the day, detailing the decision he had made in regard to Accacia's return. The reflection of past events allowed Aleco to solidify his decisions or change them if need be.

Accacia watched his movements. She saw him drop the gem upon the table in exchange for his throat-burning beverage. Aleco had stored a flashback within the stone and Accacia wondered if the memory would explain his sour mood. She had seen him angry before but he never ignored her like this. He was hiding something.

Aleco placed his glass on the table and closed his eyes. Accacia rose from her comfortable chair by the roaring flames and retrieved Roslyn's Blade from her pack. She lit the dry leaves and watched the smoke fill the enclosed room.

She crept across the den and stood next to Aleco. The lines of his face were absent and his shoulders relaxed with ease. His fingers still gripped his glass of whiskey like a child holding onto a piece of candy. He didn't look as intimidating when he was asleep. When Accacia could put her vision of the duke from her mind, she saw Aleco for the man he really was. A man nothing like his brother. They shared identical features and nothing more.

While Aleco's responses were short and full of anger, his words were always honest and concise—which is why Accacia trusted him. He was a master assassin but he was also a watchful protector. What Accacia recognized most in him was a broken heart—which they both shared. He never admitted his true affection for her but Accacia knew he was fond of her, despite his harsh comments.

Accacia stroked his blond hair with her thin fingers and watched his face fall deeper into peace. She felt very guilty about her actions—but he left her no choice. She grabbed his Soul Catcher from the tabletop and took it to the fire. His stone was charcoal gray and infused with nearly invisible lines of white. She grasped it within her palm and concentrated.

This was her first time accessing stored memories from a Soul Catcher so the process was unfamiliar. Accacia closed her eyes and experienced darkness for a few minutes, just the blackness behind her sealed eyelids. She was about to abandon the task when she found herself standing inside a black room.

The dark marble floor mirrored the depictions on the walls in a perfect portrait. She looked at the tile beneath her feet and saw the dancing images in the reflection of the ground. Accacia looked up and saw the dynamic memories covering every inch of the charcoal walls, films of different flashbacks playing infinitely. The supernatural experience felt eerily physical. Accacia felt the cold floor beneath her bare feet, felt the chill in the static air outline her skin, and listened to the voices of characters in each of the scenes.

She had to decide which biography she desired to see. The original intent was to discover the mysterious events of that afternoon, but now Accacia was unsure where to begin. She spotted a younger version of Aleco to her right with a bloody blade grasped within his palm. His visage looked sinister and his crystal blue eyes flashed with menace. It took her a moment to realize the crazed man was not Aleco, but his brother, Drake. She decided to investigate this memory.

She stopped before the reel, unsure how to proceed. She pressed her hand against the stone wall, which bit her palm with cold instantly, but she held her ground. Every meaningful picture before her vanished and every light evaporated. Accacia was as just as blind as if her eyes were shut. She held her breath as fear coursed through her; she hoped she didn't break something. A quiet hum filled the room and washed over Accacia's ears. The sound was pleasant and she hummed along to the tune. She wondered if the stone was communicating with her. The memory was projected onto the wall. Accacia closed her eyes at the unexpected brightness. She squinted against the light and saw the memoir playing before her. Accacia fell forward.

She landed in a room that she recognized. Her feet identified the rug beneath her and she felt the tapestry between her toes. She looked down at the golden rug; it was in the exact place she remembered seeing it last. Accacia examined the room. She saw the grand fireplace to her right and the oil paintings on the walls, which depicted the rose garden outside the terrace. Accacia knew she was in Aleutian Keep.

Accacia lived in this very bedroom for many painful years. She eyed the magnificent master bed, recalling the countless nights she slept alongside the duke. She remembered all the horrific things that happened there. She peered outside the tall windows and spotted the city of Letumian at the grounds of the keep. She used to gaze through the glass aperture for hours, yearning for the freedom she would never get. Accacia looked to the bedside and realized she wasn't alone. Aleco leaned over a lifeless figure on the mattress.

"Mother," he cried. The adolescent boy shook her thin shoulders. "Stay with me. Please stay with me." The young man squeezed her hand and kissed the delicate skin with his lips. He kneeled beside the bed. "Don't worry, Mother," he said. "I'm going to get help. You are going to be okay. I'll return with the midwives." Aleco turned away.

"Darling," she whispered. Her quiet words stopped his advance. "There isn't—time."

Blood covered the sheets and seeped into the mattress. Accacia saw it drip onto the floor onto Aleco's boots, and she fought the urge to vomit. His mother's dress was sullied with the blood that left her body. The life-sustaining fluid bubbled from the gaping wound in her chest, making her eyes flutter—she didn't have much time.

The tears poured from Aleco's eyes and splashed onto his mother's hand. She squeezed his palm as hard as she could. "Aleco, you need to leave," she said. Her words came out slow and weak. "He'll be back."

"Who was it?" he asked. Aleco glanced at her bloody wound and knew she wouldn't survive. It was a miracle she was even speaking. The sword had penetrated her chest, directly into her heart. Aleco didn't know how she was still breathing. "I won't leave you," he said.

She smiled at her son. "Go. Nothing can be done." She ran her thumb over the surface of his hand, savoring the last moment she had with him. The coldness of her touch pricked his skin. Aleco knew she only had seconds left.

"I'm not leaving you."

"Please," she begged. She cupped his face with the last of her strength. "Do as I say."

Aleco locked his reddened eyes onto hers and memorized the final glimpse of her elegant face. Even in her last moments, she wore a beautiful smile to shield her son from the truth of her agony. He looked to the still figure beside her—the corpse of his father—who passed just minutes earlier. They stabbed him in the chest as well and he had died quickly—his mother wasn't so fortunate.

"Goodbye." He kissed her on the brow.

"For now," she whispered, and closed her eyes for the last time.

He kissed her hand again before he rose to his feet. Accacia cried to herself as she watched. It was the most painful scene she had ever witnessed. Aleco stifled his last cry then concentrated on an escape route. He would honor his mother's last request. He turned away—but it was too late.

Drake and the cavalry entered the doorway and saw the bloody massacre. Aleco sighed in relief—he thought the murderer had come for him. His brother's eyes flashed with anger as he stared at Aleco. Aleco understood his fury.

"How could you do this?" he asked. "How could you kill them?"

Aleco looked at him in disbelief. "What?"

He stood next to the bodies of his executed parents, and his clothes were drenched in their blood. Only then did Aleco notice the soiled sword at his feet—it was his. Aleco looked at the blade in surprise; it should be in his room. The evidence of the scene was incriminating and Aleco realized he was being framed.

"It wasn't me," he yelled. "I didn't do this. You know I didn't."

"Why?" Drake shouted. "Why did you do this? You actually thought you could get away with it?"

"Drake, listen to me—"

"I will not," he spat. "You killed them so you would receive the crown. You couldn't wait for them to perish by natural causes. That's why, isn't it?"

"No!"

Drake grabbed the sword from the ground and pointed the blade at Aleco. "You're a traitor." He jabbed the sword at his brother. Aleco just barely stepped away from the tip of the blade. "You deserve to die like a traitor." The soldiers shouted their approval from behind him.

Aleco's heart quickened at the scene. No one believed he was innocent—not even his own brother. Sweat dripped down his forehead as the truth sank in—he was going to be killed for a crime he didn't commit. "Drake, please," he begged. "I didn't do this. You have to believe me."

"Be silent," he commanded. Drake walked closer to him with the blade held at the ready. Aleco stepped further back towards the bed. "And I do believe you," he whispered so only Aleco could hear him.

Aleco stared at him. Drake met his gaze with a sinister smile. He trembled at the revelation; he was being framed by his own twin.

Drake stepped back and dropped his smile. He raised his voice so everyone could hear his words. "We may appear to be the same man, but I'm not like you, brother," he said. "I am not a murderer." Drake tossed Aleco's bloody sword to the ground and walked away. "Kill him," he commanded.

Accacia drifted from the scene, relieved the end of the memory had come to pass—she couldn't force herself to watch it any longer. Accacia's grief-stricken tears poured down her curved face as Aleco's memory echoed in her mind. When she conjured the image of his destroyed façade, she sobbed harder—she grieved for him. Accacia needed to return to his side immediately. It was essential for Aleco to understand how much she cared for him—that he wasn't alone in his affliction.

She floated in the infinite darkness until she felt the familiar cold marble beneath her feet—she had returned to the sanctuary of his stored memories. Accacia felt the wet tears stick to her cheeks. She wiped them away with her sleeve.

Accacia witnessed the devastating collapse of Aleco's world. Now she understood the origin of his anger and private suffering. She, too, had grieved the death of both her mother and father, but at least she had been fortuitous enough not to be a bystander of their demise. Accacia hugged herself tightly. Not only was he falsely charged with the murder of his own parents, but was framed by his very own sibling—by his twin.

She gazed around the room and searched for the exit from the sanctuary when she spotted a flashback upon the wall. Aleco was scribbling a short note to Father Giloth. Accacia recognized the secret language the old man taught her years ago. It was the language they used to speak in code. Accacia presumed this was the memory she had initially sought.

As before, Accacia repeated the actions to access the memoir and soon found herself in the midst of a conversation between Aleco and the frightening guildsman. Now, Accacia understood why Aleco had kept his mouth shut.

Accacia gasped as she listened. Aleco vowed her recovery to the Serpentine Guild, but never revealed he already contained her in his possession, which confused Accacia. Why not disclose that information? Accacia realized he had no such plans of handing her over—he was going to let himself be killed. Accacia couldn't allow him to make such a sacrifice.

The discovery that Aleco was a long-standing member of the Serpentine Guild, an organization reputed for its superior skills in assassinations, theft, and illegal commerce, failed to surprise Accacia, and didn't lower her opinion of him. Knowing a sliver of his past life increased her understanding of his attitude and actions. At the time, he probably had no alternative to joining the guild. He needed protection, coin, and shelter from his moonstruck, yet powerful, sibling.

The words being exchanged in the flashback suddenly became muted. They continued to speak, but no sound could be heard. The lighting of the cloudless day began to dwindle and flash, blinking from light to dark. Something peculiar was happening—someone was tampering with the memory. She was pulled away.

The lick of the flames warmed Accacia skin and dispelled the coldness of her body. She sat on the stone floor adjacent to the roaring hearth, the exact position she had been in before she entered the sanctuary of the stone. She opened her eyes, expecting to see the flames of the fire, but met Aleco's furious glare instead.

"WHAT DID YOU SEE?"

Accacia leaned back. She was affronted by his unbridled ferocity. Aleco squeezed her arm and dragged her to a stance.

He shouted into her face again. "I'M NOT GOING TO ASK YOU AGAIN!" He squeezed her forearms like a jungle snake suffocating its prey.

"Stop, Aleco," she cried. "You are hurting me." Her arms were throbbing with the lack of circulation. She yanked her forearm away, but her body didn't flinch. Aleco's grasp was too strong and he held her still. Aleco clinched his jaw as he watched her writhe in his grasp. The veins in his forehead were popping and his eyes widened in anger. Accacia was afraid.

Aleco squeezed harder. "THEN I SUGGEST YOU TELL ME QUICKLY!"

The pain shot up her arm and she whimpered in response. "Aleco, please stop," she begged.

He squeezed her arms tighter.

"I saw what happened to your parents," she yelled. "I know Drake framed you." She waited for Aleco to release his hold but he didn't. Accacia cried in anguish at the pain. "Let me go," she begged. "Stop it!"

Aleco's eyes widened even further at her confession. His anger didn't dim at the sound of her plea. "What else?" he asked.

"I saw your encounter with the guild," she said. "That's all." Accacia pulled her arm away but Aleco held on. His hands shook with fury, and it increased her pain tenfold. "Please stop," she begged. "You are going to break my arms!"

He released his hold. Accacia stepped away from him and rubbed her arms. They were already blue and bruised. She looked away from her injury and saw him stare at her with the same look of fury. She had never seen him so angry.

"Your actions are unforgivable," he said. Aleco hung his arms at his side, but still adopted a defensive stance. The thick muscles of his arms were flexed and prepared for imminent battle. Accacia saw the concrete contours of his body through his thin shirt and noticed his powerful physique. He could break her body instantly— and without a weapon.

"So are yours," she said.

He stepped towards her and she stepped back. "After everything I have done for you," he said. "This is how you repay me? How many times have I saved your life?"

"Get away from me." Accacia shut her eyes and prepared for another attack.

Aleco grabbed a bottle of brandy and smashed it against the wall. Accacia covered herself from the flying shards. He upturned the bed on its side, threw the dresser across the room, and severed a wooden chair against the stone hearth. He screamed as he ransacked the enclosure, upturning anything in his sight. Accacia hid in the corner. "What if I suddenly decided to read your journal," he asked. "Browsed through a written log of all your personal experiences?"

Accacia knew she needed to subdue his anger or he would kill her. "Aleco," she whispered.

"Shut up," he commanded her. Aleco pitched a chair into the snapping flames of the hearth. "Do you understand how easy it would be for me to steal your journal, read it, and return it to you without your knowledge? It would be all too easy, but I refrained from doing so. Instead I asked you what I wanted to know."

Aleco ran to Accacia and pinned her against the wall. He had nothing else to break, and Accacia flinched at his sudden advancement. "I needed to know your story," he said. "I needed to understand what your relationship was with my brother, my chief nemesis, but instead of beating it out of you, raping you, or threatening to kill you—I simply asked."

Accacia lost the sensation in her legs. She felt his powerful arms against her sides and her heart raced in response. He was going to kill her, she knew it. She wondered what Father Giloth would do when he discovered the truth. The familiar anxiety curdled in her stomach as Aleco towered over her. Aleco no longer stood before her—it was Drake. It was the same fear that gripped her body when the duke screamed at her. The twins shared, in addition to their identical features, the same unrestrained anger. She knew she would never be free of him.

"Maybe I should have just been like every other man you have met," he said. "I could have ravished you when I felt like it, bloodied you anytime you spoke since I despise the sound of your voice, and then dumped your corpse into the ocean when I was through." Aleco stepped back from her. "I did consider it—once or twice."

Accacia was crying, the unstoppable tears poured down her face. "Listen to me—"

He didn't. Aleco tossed the large wooden chest at his bedside across the room. Accacia dashed out of the way before it hit her. The weight of the impact could have killed her. Accacia prayed he had nothing left to throw.

Accacia focused on the man Aleco really was, the man hidden behind this outstanding rage. Aleco risked his own life to spare hers—more than once, and she knew his heated words were meaningless. Her Aleco was still in there—somewhere. She put the thought of the evil twin from her mind.

"I trusted you, Accacia," he screamed. "I actually trusted you. Now I wished I hadn't. I feel like an idiot." He slammed his fist against his chest.

"Aleco, I'm sorry."

"Please don't." He raised his palm to her face. "I should have recognized you for what you are—a lying whore."

The insult wounded her, and her tears turned to heavy sobs. She made another attempt to calm him, a risky one. She reached her hand out to him. "I regret what I did," she sobbed. "I mean it, Aleco. I'm sorry I hurt you." She walked over to him and her hand almost touched his.

"Accacia, get away from me or I will hurt you," he threatened. "Don't doubt me."

She stepped back—she believed him. "I'm sorry," she repeated.

"That means nothing to me."

"But you mean everything to me, Aleco."

Aleco stopped his chaotic destruction and stared at her. It was the truth. Other than Father Giloth, Aleco was the first man she knew she could trust implicitly—she trusted him with her life. The menace on Aleco's face was replaced with a different emotion. "Do you betray all the ones who mean everything to you?" he asked. His scowl deepened into a frown and the light of his eyes dimmed. "Your pledges contain even less value—no wonder you were such a successful whore. They have to be skilled liars," he said. "Now I understand why Drake values you so much."

Accacia sobbed at the insult of his words. He vowed he would never speak of her past but he violated his oath. Now he used it against her; he wanted to hurt her. "Leave," he said. Aleco walked to the entrance of the cave. "I want you out of here."

"What?"

"I want you to leave," he shouted. Aleco grabbed her pack from the rubble and shoved it into her arms. "I never want to see you again."

"Aleco—"

"Don't worry, if you are wondering about work, there's a brothel in Aequor," he said. "I'm sure they will take you in."

She broke down at his final words. She hugged her pack to her chest and looked at the floor. She never meant to hurt Aleco; that was never her intent. She would take back her actions if she could, but that wasn't possible. She wanted to work past their dispute but his last comment snapped a nerve. She wiped her tears and turned towards the exit.

"Go," he said.

She left the cavern without a backward glance. Aleco didn't bother to watch her go.

Roslyn Keep

15

The Lord Aleutian finished his third drink while he waited for the meeting to commence. They still expected Steward Josiah from Morkarh, a powerful ally and Drake's close friend, to enter the library, the meeting hall of the council.

Lord Drake spotted Father Giloth across the room. The old man sat in silence in his chair by the window, gripping the staff of his order, which Drake considered to be a security blanket. They never spoke in public, each man notably hating the other. Father Giloth hated his possession of Accacia, his adopted daughter who seemed to arrive from nowhere, but Drake couldn't care less about his quarrels.

At the first meeting since Drake had claimed Accacia as his own, Father Giloth took him aside.

"Did you bring Accacia along?" he whispered in the hallway. There was no hiding the excitement in his voice at the possibility of her presence.

"That is none of your concern." He smiled. "She belongs to me, remember?"

The old man's wrinkled face fell into the lines of a frown. "I just want to see my daughter, even for only a moment," he said.

Drake's smiled widened. "It's none of your business, but yes, I brought her along. I never make a trip without her," he said. "And no, you may not see her."

"Drake—please have mercy."

The duke walked away and left him standing alone in the hallway.

Now Father Giloth ignored him just as much as Drake did. They only conversed during the council and even then it wasn't a direct conversation. The other sovereigns of the Continent wondered what had transpired between the two men but refrained from asking.

The Steward of Morkarh entered the library and took his customary seat beside Drake. His red robes symbolized the color of his realm and his customary necklace of stone was a token of his main mercantile product. The one vacant chair in the room was reserved for the Duke of Paso Robles, who had recently perished. It was rumored to have been an unfortunate heart attack and his healers had been powerless to save him. The funeral had taken place two days ago. Now the council met to discuss what should be done with his vacancy.

"Steward," Drake acknowledged his friend.

Steward Josiah smiled in turn. "I'm glad to see you are well, Lord Aleutian."

"You as well."

"Tis' a shame about Lord Lukein," Josiah said. "What a fine leader he was."

"Yes," he replied with a twinkle in his eye. "It is quite a shame."

Father Giloth finally looked at Drake. He knew he was somehow responsible for the untimely death of Lord Lukein, but couldn't prove that fact.

Lord Artremian looked around at the congregation of rulers. Every man seated before him had an investment in the political hierarchy of the Continent, and with their opinions they would decide the next actions to take. The Steward of Morkarh, Lord Aleutian, the Duke of Roslyn, the Nature Priest of Orgoom Forest, and Father Hyphalia, Guardian of Channeled Souls, were present within the meeting room. Lord Lukein's absent laughter was immediately noticed in the dead space, his presence sorely missed. The council members, Geon Kirklandar, Rancar Steel, Zybiconia Rin, and Qualdo Renador sat silently within their seats, waiting for the their host to speak. Gatherings were always held in Roslyn since the province was in the center of the Continent, easily accessible to the other factions. Letumian was the capital seat of the Continent, but was centered too far east for timely travel. Drake would change that soon.

Artremian addressed the room. "We all know why we are here," he began. "Lord Lukein's untimely death has led us to this discussion. As we all know, Lukein fathered no children, therefore, the realm is without a ruler. How should we proceed?"

Councilmen Rancar cleared his throat. "The council holds the opinion that a new leader should be elected from the province. A man who served directly under the instruction of Lord Lukein who knows the laws of government."

"The leader of the Continent needs to be someone from the royal line," Steward Josiah said to the council, "descended from the ancestors who claimed this land. It cannot be a mere peasant."

"Yes," Drake added. "The man needs to be worthy of the position. Only those from royal descent are credible of such a role."

Father Giloth spoke from his corner. "Just because someone is born into an honorable family does not make him more imperial than a peasant with humble beginnings," he said. "Honor is established through life, not by birth, Lord Aleutian."

Drake stared him down across the room; he would pay for his words later. The priests of Orgoom Forest are prohibited from procreation so the office never descended through a familial line and Father Giloth referred to this custom. He had proven himself worthy of the office by his abilities and valor alone, not his bloodline.

The council nodded at his words. They appeared to be in agreement with him. Drake clenched his teeth at their response. This meeting was already spiraling out of his control. "I suggest we elect a current ruler to preside over Paso Robles, in addition to his own province," Drake said. "All the Dukes of the Continent are acutely aware of the various governments and regulations of the provinces of this land. There should be no trouble there."

"I agree," Steward Josiah added.

Lord Artremian shook his head across the room. "I am opposed to this solution. Not only would it be difficult to control two provinces spaced leagues away, but it would bring too much power to one sovereign," he said. "Any individual can be worthy to rule a nation."

Drake knew he would lean this way because of his peasant wife. If he voiced the opposite opinion, he would be a hypocrite. Artremian's choice didn't anger him; he had expected it. Now the vote was two to one. Drake's plans were falling into place. His dominion will reach across two lands by tomorrow afternoon.

"I agree with Artremian," Father Hyphalia said. Drake snapped his neck at the sound of his unwelcomed words. He looked at the Guardian. "The power over the Continent needs to be dilute. Having one ruler over two provinces will increase his hold on the trade commerce and overall influence of the land. I think the idea is a bad one."

Drake ground his teeth together at Father Hyphalia's unexpected declaration. He had no authority to cast a vote. Drake had not foreseen this problem. He tried to control the anger in his voice as he spoke. "Your Grace," he stated kindly. "We appreciate your thoughts on this matter, but your vote does not count in our politics. Thank you for your wisdom."

"We are honored by your opinion, Your Grace," Rancar spoke, "and it will be taken into consideration since Lord Lukein is unable to cast a vote himself."

Drake glared at Rancar.

The lead councilman ignored him. "Lord Lukein sent an advanced directive granting Father Hyphalia the power to speak on his behalf in the event of his death," he said. "His vote counts."

Drake cursed under his breath. Now the vote was tied.

"The council will make the final judgment at our private meeting," Rancar said. "We will announce our decision tomorrow."

The council members rose from their seats and left the room. Artremian followed them down the hallway, escorting them to their private chamber. Steward Josiah looked over at Drake and frowned. "You can't always be in control, Drake," he whispered.

Drake squeezed the arm of his chair. His knuckles turned white under the force of his grasp.

Father Hyphalia embraced the Nature Priest across the room. They spoke for a few moments before Father Hyphalia left the library. Drake rose from his chair and approached Father Giloth. "You will pay for this behavior," he hissed. "Mark my words, old man."

"I'm not afraid of you, m'lord," he replied. "Your words are hollow shells. I will not be intimidated."

"I'll remember that," he threatened. "When I set fire to your beloved forest, I will recall your words, Father. Expect no mercy from me."

"Nor you from me," he said.

"You can't stop me," Drake said. "This will come to pass, despite your efforts. And when I gain full authority over this land, I will begin my celebration with your death and the death of that forest."

"We shall see," he said as he turned away.

Drake grabbed his arm. "And we will."

The following afternoon, the councilmen gathered behind their chestnut desk while the dukes took their designated places. The two holy men remained off to the side, watching the congregation in silence.

Father Giloth already knew the decision they had made. Father Hyphalia had spoken with them in private and urged them to choose an unbiased outside candidate to lead the province of Paso Robles. He also relayed Father Giloth's concerns about Drake as a hungry dictator, and his desire to overtake the province for himself and then move on to the rest of the Continent. The council nodded their understanding. They also recognized the lust within the duke's eyes. The purpose of the council was to balance the power of the leaders with the other factions, to prevent the hoarding of influence to one single leader. Drake's ambitions had been obvious to them, and they were determined to drench his fire of control.

Father Hyphalia detailed his experience channeling Lukein's soul to the afterlife. He described the soul as tormented, depressed, and wronged. He voiced his suspicions that the Duke of Paso Robles hadn't passed by natural means, but by a more sinister one—murder. He voiced his concern that Drake may be responsible.

"Do you have proof of this treason?" they asked.

"No," the holy man admitted. "But I am certain of its truth."

"Without further evidence of his deception, we cannot hold him accountable within our council," they said. "There is nothing we can do."

The holy man nodded. "I sense darkness within his soul," he said. "Be wary of him."

The council nodded.

Father Giloth looked at the Duke of Aleutian across the library. His fingertips covered his lips, hiding the curve of his smile. The Nature Priest spotted the concealed sneer, and was happy to know that grin would disappear momentarily.

Rancar spoke for the council. "We have come to a decision regarding the new leadership of the province of Paso Robles. All of your valid points and opinions were taken under consideration, and we feel that our choice will benefit all the parties of the Continent."

Steward Josiah retained a stoic expression and Drake's sneer widened as they awaited the announcement. Rancar looked down at this joined hands on the surface of the table, gathering his resolve before he continued. Father Giloth waited for the sweet sound of Drake's rejection.

"We have decided to install one of the dukes as the new ruler of Paso Robles," he said. Father Giloth's eyes widened at their declaration; it was the exact opposite choice they had discussed beforehand. Father Hyphalia looked at Rancar with a confused visage. Rancar wiped the sweat from his brow before he continued, despite the winter chill that crept into the library. "We feel that it is essential to have an experienced ruler reside over the throne and ensure the perseverance of the realm, rather than an inexperienced citizen."

"Which duke will preside over this province?" Steward Josiah asked with interest. "How will we decide this?"

"Actually," Rancar said, "we have already selected a candidate. We feel this duke has flourished during his reign, and has been a wonderful ally to the rest of the Continent. We have no doubt about his capabilities."

Father Giloth squeezed his scepter. What he had feared was coming to pass, despite his best efforts to prevent it.

"Who have you selected?" Artremian asked.

Drake removed his hand and looked at Father Giloth, his smile even wider than a moment ago. Father Giloth's heart pounded in his chest when he met his gaze. His blood pulsed in his ears.

"Lord Drake Aleutian," Rancar announced.

Aequor Plains

16

The moon illuminated the forest with a sliver of white light, only allowing Accacia to see a mere foot ahead. Trickles of radiant moonlight flashed across the forest floor and mingled with the dark shadows of the drying leaves from the withering canopy. Accacia was too frightened of the nighttime wildlife to appreciate its astounding beauty. However, it was a cloudless night and Accacia could see the twinkling stars shine brilliantly from the heavens. The elongated shadows of the trees stretched across the grass of the forest floor and took different shapes. Beautiful flowers could be seen in the darkness, so bright were their colors.

The absence of clouds brought a harsh chill across the land. Accacia tightened her thin cloak around herself to contain as much precious body heat as possible. Wisps of moist vapors escaped from her nostrils, rising upwards until the mist dissipated into the air, no longer visible. It would be ideal to travel during the day and sleep at night, but Accacia knew it would be too frigid for her to sleep in the frozen darkness.

The unexpected shrieks of the wild birds made Accacia jump with fright every few minutes, wary of what caused their loud provocation. She crept through the trees and looked around in all directions. She feared an unexpected assault from a large bear or a famished coyote. The limited sword skills she learned from Aleco wouldn't protect her from the predators of the woods. She was also concerned she would blindly stumble into the Hideaway of the Serpentine Guild, although that was her intended mission. In an attempt to ignore the sinister sounds of the restless woodlands, Accacia concentrated her thoughts on the cause of her nighttime visit to the forest.

The upsetting events between her and Aleco replayed in her mind as she continued to inch through the dim forest. Remembering his painful words caused her eyes to smart. When she confessed her obscene lifestyle, she assumed he would be compassionate and accepting, since she was forced against her will—she never thought he would use it as a weapon against her. Her eyes began to well up again as she thought about it.

Accacia massaged the purple bruises on her arms and cringed at the painful contact. The soreness was so prominent, it was difficult to swing her arms as she walked. She couldn't decide what was more agonizing; the bruises or how she received them. The tears began to fall when she reflected on Aleco's demented actions. How the man she trusted so deeply could twist her fragile skin so vehemently, further damaging her already wounded body and mind—something he promised he would never do. Accacia realized she should never have breached his guarded privacy, but his deranged behavior was unacceptable and unforgivable.

The thick tears blurred her limited vision, and she stumbled through the darkened forest unable to focus on her direction. Powerless to examine the invisible landscape before her, her foot caught in the crevasse of a tree root and she tripped to the ground.

Accacia scraped her elbows on the wood and blood seeped from the scratch in her skin. She groaned to herself as she felt the wet liquid on her fingertips. She wished she had grabbed her jacket before Aleco threw her out.

Accacia gathered firewood from the forest floor and ignited the wood. She was clueless as to the location of the Serpentine Guild, so instead of futilely searching for their hideaway, she invited them to come to her. She pressed the fabric of her shirt against the slice in her arm, slowing the flow of blood. The scrape burned under the pressure and she cringed until the stinging finally abated. Exhausted, she leaned her bruised body against the tree stump and closed her eyes.

Aleco had abandoned her to the unknown world and she was still shocked by his decision to leave her alone. He knew she had no idea where she was and this crushed Accacia the most—he had left her unprotected. She would never acknowledge the truth, but Aleco made her feel safe. She knew he could protect her, but now he no longer wanted to.

Accacia wished she knew more of the geography of the Continent. In her studies with Father Giloth, they discussed the provinces of the lands and their various rules and regulations, but, other than Orgoom Forest and Aleutian Keep, she had never been to any of these places. Aleco accompanied her on her first visit to Roslyn and rescued her from Morkarh, but she felt the latter didn't count—after all, she had only visited the prison.

She'd spent most of her short life within the safe borders of Orgoom Forest, until she was stolen from her beloved home by the retched duke. Just thinking of the disgusting monster made acidic bile rise to her throat. She remembered the abject terror on Father Giloth's face when the duke dragged her onto his horse, preparing to transport her to his keep. He begged Drake to reconsider.

"Drake," he yelled, "this is my daughter. You cannot do this. Please return her to me."

Drake kissed her forehead and wrapped his arms around her tiny waist, squeezing her thin body to his chest.

"Perhaps you shouldn't have fathered such a beautiful child," he said. He ran his gloved hands through her silky hair. "Or you should have hidden her better."

Thick tears dripped down Accacia's face. She tried to push away from him but she was coerced to lean against his vast torso. His muscled arms were too powerful against her slight build, and she was forced to remain still. She could feel the bulge of his manhood grow in size against her back as she fought against his restraint. She cringed at his slightest touch even though his caress was gentle.

Drake enjoyed utilizing his hefty size to overpower her. His blue eyes widened in excitement when she flinched from his embrace, and he smiled as he held her in place against her hopeless struggle.

Father Giloth's typical calm features and infamous smile were long gone. "I'm warning you," Father Giloth threatened. His eyes wide with intense hatred, a sight Accacia had never before witnessed.

"You will do nothing, old man." The duke smirked. He pulled on the hide reins of his white gelding and led him away. "If you work against me, I will burn this entire forest to the ground, along with you, if you are still alive." He led his obedient steed towards the border, his armored soldiers following. "Your distress is negligent, Father. She will be taken care of," he said. "Soon, she will be a real woman."

Father Giloth clenched his staff and steadied his anger. Accacia knew he could not unleash his majestic powers. If he did he would lose them. According to his oath, he could only use his almighty powers to protect the forest and its inhabitants. If he unleashed his magical strength, the duke would only return with his army to destroy Orgoom Forest and savagely execute its inhabitants. Father Giloth would have no powers to stop the attack. Accacia knew he had to sacrifice her to protect his people.

As the duke and his men departed the forest, the Naturalists stood behind the Nature Priest, expecting him to intervene with his monumental gifts, but Father Giloth remained silently glued to his spot, watching them take their leave. Accacia knew he would sacrifice his own life to protect her, his daughter in every way but blood. However, he couldn't risk the innocence of the forest, the home of so many creatures and men, and the source of his powers. He made the right decision and Accacia accepted that. She knew he would regret the decision forever.

After the foundations of the campsite were prepared, the duke's lavish tent was erected and the guards were posted on watch for the evening. The duke dragged Accacia under the canvas and closed the flaps behind him. That night, the assaults began.

He pushed her onto her back and ripped her clothes away. She battled for her freedom by hitting him in the face and kicking with all the force she could unleash. He overcame her efforts and laid his muscled mass on top of her, pinning her weak arms to her sides. She begged him to stop. Drake spread her thin legs apart and pinned them to her chest.

"Please don't do this," she cried.

Drake leaned over her and gazed at her thin lips, soaked with her own tears, and they shined in the dim light of the tent. He kissed them and tasted the bitter salt on his lips. Her green eyes shone bright with fear as she struggled beneath him; intensifying his arousal. He examined every curve of her luscious body. He grabbed her small breasts and squeezed hard; she screamed in protest at his intrusion.

"Stop," she yelled. "Don't do this to me."

He kissed her breasts, stomach and hips, enjoying the sweet taste of her skin. He continued to her thin neck, which he sucked with relish, and he enjoyed the feel of her petite body under his chiseled physique. The tears poured down her curved face, making the duke even more excited.

"Please," she yelled to the surrounding soldiers. "Someone help me!"

She continued to plead to the men outside the tent. Drake smiled at her. "Yes, they can hear you," he said. "But no one is going to rescue you." He sucked on her delicate nipples and she yelped at his rough contact. "So please continue."

He thrust his massive girth inside of her untouched place and groaned. Accacia cried out at his rough entrance. New tears flooded her eyes. The pain was unbearable. She could feel her insides stretching and ripping, bleeding from the trauma as Drake continued to plunge deep inside of her. He knew she was bleeding but that didn't slow his pace. He moaned in pleasure as he pushed himself entirely within her, feeling her body expand at his entry. His breathing grew labored and shallow as his body worked harder to quicken his rhythm. Warm sweat dripped down his strong chest as he quickened his pace. He squeezed her arms as he bucked himself inside of her. He moaned as he thrust deep into her.

"I knew you were a virgin," he said.

Accacia jumped at the screech of an owl. She wiped her tears away as her mind returned to the present. Accacia never blamed Father Giloth for his decision that unforgettable afternoon. She knew if he could have spared her, he would have. Father Giloth had loved her like his own daughter since the day she fell into his possession, and she never doubted his adoration for her. At a very young age, Father Giloth explained to Accacia she had come to reside in the forest because her parents were killed directly outside his lands. He had adopted her as his own.

Accacia refrained from inquiring more about their unexpected execution because she was too petrified to hear the gruesome details of their untimely deaths. She knew they perished on the outskirts of the forest, and the knowledge disturbed her so deeply, she never approached the borders of the land. Before Drake abducted her from her secluded woodland home, Accacia had never left Orgoom Forest.

After years of internal debate, she asked Father Giloth for the account. His response was unexpected.

"Not today," he said, squeezing her petite hand within his own. "Not today."

Accacia didn't understand. Today was no different from any other.

"When?" she asked.

The old man smiled. "I will know when the time is right."

Accacia was returning to her master now, so she doubted she'd ever discover the truth. Accacia's eyes flashed open at the sound of voices and she was brought back to the present.

"Stand up," a man shouted.

Their heavy footfalls thudded against the earth, snapping the thin twigs under their weight as they advanced toward her location. They were almost upon her. Accacia's heart squeezed in fear—she didn't want to go through with it but knew she had to. "If I must," she said and rose to her feet. She was surprised by the confidence in her voice; she sounded braver than she felt.

They stood before her, their sharp blades held at the ready. Their gleaming swords shone in the moonlight, displaying the frightful sharpness. They adorned themselves in the matching attire of the guild; just like Accacia had seen through Aleco's eyes. Their deep brown eyes focused on Accacia, and she felt threatened by their piercing gazes. Accacia displayed her hands above her head in surrender. "Aleco sent me," she said. "I am the woman you seek."

The large guildsman to her left forced the sharp curve of his blade against her exposed throat, pressing the cold steel against her fine skin. "We seek many women," he hissed into her ear. He pressed the sword deeper into her sensitive epidermis. She felt the sting of the cut. The beads of warm blood drizzled down her collar. "Be a little more specific."

"My name is Accacia and I belong to the Duke of Aleutian, a very powerful man," she said as she glanced to the sharp sword forced against her neck. "So I suggest you don't anger him."

The man released her and examined Accacia's features as the blood trickled down her fair skin. He waited for her to wipe it away, but she continued to meet his gaze. "You look valuable," he said as his eyes roamed across her curves. Accacia was disgusted with all men; they were all the same. "Let's see if you are really worth the price of your reward."

Accacia felt cold, and not because of the frigid air. The man unfastened his cloak and tossed it to the ground. "Hold her down," he instructed his comrade. The other guildsman stepped towards her with outstretched hands. "We'll take turns. I'll go first."

Panic rose into her throat. "The duke will kill you," she threatened. She screamed when the guildsman grasped her shoulders and forced her to the frozen ground. Accacia jerked her body away with the all the strength she had, but his weight was too strong. Accacia felt her mind plunge into the realm of insanity, as tears slid down her cheeks while the guildsman forced her to the earth. She wished she had never left Aleco; she wished he was there now, despite what he had done to her. Accacia tried to threaten the man before he ripped her clothes away. "Lord Aleutian will kill you!"

"No," a familiar voice said from the darkness. Accacia flinched at the sound of the intruder; she recognized it immediately. "I will."

Both men unsheathed their weapons. The guildsmen were so quick that Accacia didn't even witness their movements, but Aleco was faster. He sliced his serrated blade down the center of the man's hard skull, almost severing it in half, and kicked his bleeding corpse aside. His bloody sword flung droplets as he turned to the other guildsman. The man recognized him. "Aleco, what are you doing?"

"Some early spring cleaning." Aleco stabbed him through the chest. The man hunched over and covered the wound with his palm, trying to breathe with his remaining lung. Aleco pitied the man. "I can't just let you suffer," he said. Aleco decapitated him with his black blade. The pair watched his head drop to the floor. "You're welcome."

Accacia covered her face with her palms, disgusted by the sight. Aleco's face was hidden within his black hood once again, and Accacia wondered how the other guild members recognized him. Aleco looked at Accacia. "Are you insane?" he asked her incredulously. "Why would you light a fire in the middle of their territory? Of course they are going to see you."

"I wanted to be seen," she said as she wiped her tears away and brushed the dirt from her clothes. She felt the drops of blood on her neck but she ignored them. Accacia was still overwhelmed by the episode; she had almost been raped, again. She was tired of it.

"What?" Aleco asked. "Why would you want to be found?" He spotted the blood trickling down her throat and panicked at the sight. "Damn," he said as he wiped the blood away. "Accacia, are you alright?"

"Yes." She pushed his hand away and cleaned the wound with her sleeve. Aleco pulled a handkerchief from his pack and pressed it against her bleeding neck, supporting the back of her head with his gloved hand. "Keep the pressure on," he said, his voice full of concern. He held the cloth in place. "Accacia, you should sit down."

She swatted his hand away again. "I'm okay," she said. She was more concerned about the guild investigating the bloody campsite. They wouldn't be pleased with Aleco's handiwork. "We need to move. The others will arrive soon."

Aleco knew she was right. He was so distressed about her safety he hadn't thought of his own. Accacia walked away. Aleco rescued her from a fate worse than death, so she should be happy to see him, but she wasn't. She just wanted to get away from him.

"Accacia, I'm glad you are well," he said. "I was worried about you."

She ignored him. Sometimes he was an asshole, and sometimes he wasn't. She wished he would just pick a side and stay there. Accacia wasn't going to bother handing herself over to the guild anymore. Now that Aleco was there, she was certain he would never allow it.

"Why did you want to be found?" he asked. Aleco could think of only one explanation, but it wasn't plausible. She must have stumbled into the wilderness, confused and lost on her path back to the forest. Accacia must have been ignorant of the location of the hideaway. He can't imagine why else she would travel here.

"Because of your memory," she said. "If you didn't return me, which I knew you had no intention of doing, they were going to kill you. I couldn't let that happen."

His eyes widened at her words. "So you were willing to give yourself to that ruthless barbarian just so I could continue my pathetic existence living in secret?"

"Yes."

"Accacia—I never would have wanted you to do that."

"I know," she said. "You've saved my life countless times—I wanted to return the favor." She meant her words. Even though he had hurt her and abused her, turning into the man she hated more than anything, she couldn't deny what he had done for her. Aleco was just as much of a victim as she was. He deserved to be free.

Aleco was speechless. She would voluntarily return herself to the duke, who had tormented her so deeply that she turned to suicide, just to spare his feeble life. He couldn't fathom the unbelievable sacrifice she attempted to make for him. Even after the appalling way he had mistreated her, she still tried to protect him. He had been rude to her since the moment they met, with vulgar comments and hateful insults; he couldn't understand her unwavering loyalty to him. Aleco thought about their last encounter and his unacceptable behavior. She begged for his forgiveness but his fury only increased at her pleas. He regretted the vicious comments he said to her, and the painful way he grabbed her arms. Aleco was disgusted with himself. He touched her on the forearm. "Accacia—"

She jerked her arm from his grasp. She stopped and stared at him, her green eyes flashing in anger. He knew she was furious with him by that look alone. Aleco completely understood, but he hoped it had dimmed after he saved her. He also wished that it would disappear altogether. She obviously cared for him; she wouldn't have sacrificed herself if she didn't. "Don't touch me." The fire in her eyes dwindled when he retracted his arm. "I never want your hands on me, Aleco," she said. "Don't touch me again."

Aleco blocked her way by positioning his body in her path, though he didn't touch her. "Accacia, I am truly sorry for what I did to you," he apologized, his voice full of remorse. "I regret everything. Please, Accacia," he begged. "I'm sorry." She walked around him. He obstructed her path again and stopped her. He pulled down the hood of his cloak and locked his fierce gaze on her, reminding her that he had revealed his true identity to her because he trusted her. "I mean it, Accacia," he said. "I never apologize to anyone for my irrational behavior, but I am apologizing to you—because I mean it. Please, Accacia," he said. "I promise I will never hurt you again. You have my word."

"Where have I heard that before?" She traversed around him and moved forward. "Your promises mean nothing to me, Aleco," she said. "They mean less than nothing."

Her painful words stung him. He didn't blame her for feeling that way. He ruined their trusting relationship because he couldn't control his temper, and he hated himself for it. Accacia still made the effort to protect him, even after he bruised her, so he knew she still cared for him. That gave him hope. Aleco strode beside her. "Please give me another chance," he said. "I'm a different man than I was then, Accacia."

"From a few hours ago?" she asked.

"Yes, I am," he said. "Accacia, listen to me—"

"Drop it, Aleco." She silenced him. "I have nothing more to say to you. Let's move."

Aleco bit his tongue; he knew his attempt was futile. He would try again later. Aleco couldn't fathom her selfless actions. Never in his life had he met someone who would do anything for him—other than his parents. After the terrible way he treated her and the venomous anger he spat at her, she still cared for him unconditionally, and made the ultimate sacrifice to protect him. It was a type of love that Aleco had forgotten about. He would do anything to regain her trust, but was clueless how to win it back. After everything she had been through, he doubted she could find the will to forgive him. He meant his earlier words; he was a different man. Aleco would risk everything to protect her—even his own life. Now, he just had to prove it to her.

She walked past him, but Aleco remained rooted to his spot, hands on his hips, as he gazed at the brambles of twigs on the forest floor. Aleco heard the snap of a branch from behind him. He withdrew his blade from his scabbard.

The forest was silent, too silent, in fact. Aleco knew he was being watched and waited for the oncoming attack. Accacia advanced through the forest, completely unaware of the situation. Aleco was thankful for her ignorance. He didn't know what he was up against.

He heard the launch of an arrow and intercepted it with his blade, severing it in half. Five guildsmen stepped out of the darkness, armored with strung bows and gleaming swords. Pons stood in the lead along with three other swordsmen. He spun his dagger between his fingertips, just as before, but his earlier friendliness had disappeared. Aleco was outnumbered, which wouldn't pose a threat to him with ordinary men, but these weren't ordinary men—he had no chance.

From behind, two men dragged Accacia before Pons. He stared at her with indifference as she tried to halt their advancement by pushing her boots against the earth. She fought against their restraint by kicking them and jerking her body away in an attempt to escape the clutches of their gloved hands. She yanked her arm towards her body, but couldn't slip from their grasp. She screamed in frustration. "Let me go!" She bit the man on the arm and tore out a chunk of skin with her teeth, releasing a tide of blood. "Let me go," she repeated as she thrashed in his clutches. Frustrated, the guildsman smacked her across the face, and she whimpered in response. The resounding clap amplified and echoed through the forest. She fell silent and ceased her resistance. Aleco squeezed his sword.

Pons spun the dagger between his fingertips. "So instead of doing as I requested, you chose to murder my two men, your old comrades, and bring along a friend?"

"She's my sister," he explained.

"Didn't realize you had a sister," he said.

"I never mentioned it."

Pons stopped spinning his dagger. "Why is she here, Aleco?"

Aleco clutched the hilt of his sword as he searched for an answer. He could see no possibility of escape for both of them, but he would attempt to spare Accacia. "She offered to aid me in my mission," he said. "We were traveling through the forest when your men chose to make things bloody—they got what they deserved. She has no part in this. I am the one who executed your men, so release her." Pons stared at him. Aleco returned his look from within his hood, holding his ground as he waited for Pons to accept his explanation and release Accacia or reject the phony story and kill them both where they stood.

Pons beckoned the soldiers with a flick of his fingers. The men dragged Accacia's body before him. In the dark, Aleco could see the redness of her cheek and the dried blood that cracked against her neck. Her gaze remained glued to the ground and she avoided locking her gaze with any of the men; she didn't even look at Aleco. Her body trembled as she awaited judgment.

Pons brushed away the strands of brunette locks that concealed her features. He lifted her chin and stared directly into her tear-stained face; her lips quivered at his inspection. Pons recognized the unparalleled beauty in her countenance and knew who she was. Pons cupped her face. "You know what I think, Aleco?" he said. He wiped away the tear on her cheek and Accacia closed her eyes at his touch. "I think you're a liar."

Aleco's body shook with anger when Pons touched her. "Release her," he demanded. Aleco inserted himself between Pons and Accacia, protecting her with his body. "She has nothing to do with any of this. Let her go."

Pons ignored his words. "Grab him," he instructed the guards. Aleco raised his sword but Pons steadied his hand with his words. "If you want her to live, I suggest you put that away."

A soldier held his sword against Accacia's throat and the other guildsman clasped her hands behind her back. He secured her hands in an unbreakable knot and she gasped when he tightened the rope. Aleco sheathed his sword and held his hands up in surrender. They restrained his arms and secured his wrists a special knot that can only be severed by the edge of a blade.

He looked at Accacia's bloodless face, paler than the midnight moon, as she stood motionless within their grasp. The lines around her lips sagged in despair and the skin around her eyes was pruned from her dripping tears. Previously, her face was contorted in fear as she fought for her freedom, but now her eyes appeared hollow and glossy, hopeless. "We'll be fine," Aleco said. She didn't look at him, nod her understanding, or even blink at his words—she had given up.

The escort team marched them through the forest, their feet falling in unison as they maneuvered around the stumps of trees and mounds of earth toward the hidden hideaway. Aleco fidgeted with the knot behind his back and searched for a loophole in the rope. Accacia's safety was his responsibility and he had to secure her release. If he lost his life, he didn't care—he would protect her at any cost. Aleco knew the old man preferred Accacia over him anyway.

He glanced at Accacia. She sauntered alongside him with her eyes diverted to the dirt below her feet. Frustrated by her slow pace, the guildsmen shoved her forward and she yelped as she stumbled along. Aleco concentrated on loosening his knot.

Aleco watched the breath of the men escape into the air, the only visible evidence they were even there. Their footfalls were silent with the exception of the occasional crack of an unsuspecting branch that lay hidden on their path. Accacia's footfalls fell against the earth like a played drum. Aleco spotted the dark outline of a falcon alongside their progression, pouncing from branch to branch through the glade. It cried into the night as it followed their death march. The falcon screeched every few seconds and the high pitched call became louder with every scream. The noise resonated within their ears and stole their attention, all other interests forgotten. The falcon continued its shrill squeal.

Pons armed his bow and aimed at the falcon. At the moment of release, Accacia nudged his shoulder and the arrow missed its target, embedding in a nearby tree. The falcon screamed once more before it escaped into darkness.

Pons grabbed Accacia by the throat and squeezed her windpipe with his fierce grip. She coughed in response as she tried to inhale air, but his grasp was too tight. Accacia suffered in silence without oxygen. Her eyes rolled away and her mouth began to close.

"Stop," Aleco yelled. The soldiers held Aleco back. "You're going to kill her."

Pons released her neck and tossed her to the ground. She rolled on her side and coughed into the soil. Her entire body shook with the effort. Pons stood over her and waited for her hack to subside. Pons watched her rise to her feet. When she looked at him, he smashed his fist directly into her face and sent her back to the forest floor with a bloody mouth. Aleco tried to advance towards her, but he was held steady by an additional guard, who forced him back with a blade to his throat. "Leave her be," he begged. "Please."

"Bring her to her feet." Pons smiled as he walked away from Accacia. Aleco saw the blood gush from her mouth and his body shook with anger at the sight.

Accacia spit blood onto the soil. "I will tell Drake what you've done. He will never forgive your actions," she threatened. "You won't leave his presence alive."

"What if I just kill you now?" he challenged.

"The only reward you'll receive for my death is your own."

Pons ignored her last words. "Let's move on."

They dragged Accacia forward with blood dripping down her chin, leaving a trail of dark spots in the soil. She remained silent as they pushed her forward and never complained about the pain, nor did she request a cloth to cover the wound. Aleco knew Accacia's previous words were a complete lie. His brother would never have the opportunity to execute Pons—Aleco would see to that.

They passed three rocks, each one smaller than the previous. It was the signal that the hideaway was near. The landscape of the forest repeated its designs with the same blades of grass, thick trees, and copse of bushes every few feet, making every position in the forest identical to any other. It was the very reason why the Serpentine Guild had selected the hidden realm for the hideaway—it was almost impossible to find.

They veered to the left and entered a patch of clustered trees where they found a garden of massive rocks jumbled together in jagged points and slanted slopes. They crept through the maze of stone and squeezed into a hallway between two boulders. On their right was a small opening, large enough for one man to slide through. They entered the hidden opening one person at a time.

Accacia couldn't see through the pitch black so she relied on the sound of the guildsmen before her for direction through the winding passage. She uplifted small rocks with her boot and heard the pebbles collide with the heel of the men's shoes. Occasionally, the stone walls would rub against her shoulders, and the further down they traveled within the depths of the earth, the more anxious she became. Accacia conjured memories of Orgoom Forest to ease her suffering. There was a meadow in the middle of the forest she used to visit on sunny afternoons. She would lay in the grass with her journal and scribble about her studies. The smell of the spring day tickled her nose and aggravated her allergies, but she remained where she was, unable to look away from the captivating view. Her eyes would grow heavy, drunk from the beating sun, and she would nap for hours on the hilltop until she finally ran home to Father Giloth. She savored the images as she continued through the stone prison.

The slanting tunnel finally opened to a large cavern. Pons and the other men lit their torches, and light illuminated the room. The sight was unremarkable with no ornamentation at all. The walls were barren with the exception of dirt. The floor was covered in moist soil that made muddy footprints when Accacia walked across it. There was only one structure in the cavern.

The blood red doors of the entrance were high and wide, large enough to give entry to a group of oxen. The frame was marked with a black border and untarnished metal which shined in the light of the flames. The entryway was decorated with vertical black lines and contained two thin slits next to the handles, bordered by a golden metal. Accacia couldn't fathom the purpose of these holes, other than to peek in on the activities on the opposite side of the door—but she knew this couldn't be so.

Accacia's musings were interrupted by the sound of metal being withdrawn from a scabbard. Two guildsmen unsheathed their blades, which were identical to Aleco's, and approached the opening. The men inserted their black blades into the slits and simultaneously turned the vertical holes horizontal. The maneuver was accompanied by an audible click as the door unlocked. A large boom echoed throughout the cavern, making Accacia jump at the unexpected sound. A blast of cold wind prickled her skin when the heavy doors swung outwards. They walked through the doorway into the Hideaway of the Serpentine Guild.

Serpentine Guild Hideaway

17

Accacia didn't know what to expect from this place. They shoved her through the entrance and she stumbled into the wide room. The chamber was an extension of the forest. The floor was made of the same moist dirt with centipedes crawling from the surface, and short stalks of grass protruded from the soil. Moss covered the stone walls from the floor to the ceiling, where chiseled holes channeled sunlight to the ground. Accacia smelled the humid plant life and it had the same scent as the forest. She would have enjoyed the peaceful scene if she wasn't so frightened. She glanced over at Aleco, who was already looking her way, and heard him whisper, "I'll keep you safe."

They walked across the alcove and into a cramped hallway that veered off into three different directions. They chose the middle path and continued forward. Accacia was already lost in the maze.

Aleco examined his surroundings, searching for a means of escape. He glanced into a room as they passed and a flash of metallic sheen caught his eye. It happened so quickly, Aleco was unsure he actually saw it. He turned to get another look, but the doorway was already behind him.

Aleco knew where they were headed. The prisoners were stored in the Vast, a small city constructed in the rear of the tunnel. It is an isolated area, impossible to escape from. As they entered the massive cavern, the Vast was displayed in the sunlight dancing from the ceiling. A thick bridge extended across the deep chasm, which was a bottomless, black pit, to the other side where the city rested. Torches flickered among the wooden constructs of the city. It resembled a palace bathed in candlelight. Aleco heard Accacia gasp quietly in amazement. He felt the same way his first time seeing the Vast, too.

They crossed the bridge and entered the Vast. As they walked between the buildings and passed other guildsmen, Accacia was astounded by the number of members within the society. They were large enough to create a realm of their own. She observed weapon and potion shops, herbal remedies stores, food storages and even a brothel. It was no different from any other city, except there was no livestock.

They entered a wooden building to the left and were greeted by the dancing flames of the stone hearth. The pile of logs glowed red and smoldered with heat as the flames licked the wood to ashes. The fire hissed and popped as it devoured the carcass of the tree. A man sat at a desk facing the fire. His features were displayed with both light and shadow as he smoked his pipe and read a weathered sheet of parchment.

"Yes?" he said without removing his gaze.

Pons shoved Accacia and Aleco into the room. "I have two more prisoners for you to ignore."

"We have no room," he said as he read another sheet. "All cells are booked." Smoke continued to escape from his pipe as he breathed in the haze. Pons glared at the jailer, hatred evident in his stare. The man ignored his scrutiny and continued to smoke his pipe.

"Then I suggest you make room," Pons hissed.

Smoke billowed from the jailer's pipe. "There is no room to be made." He read another page. "I suggest you make other arrangements."

Pons released his hold on the prisoners and approached the desk. He placed each of his palms on the surface of the wood and stared directly at the man who continued to ignore his attempt at intimidation. The jailer's eyes remained glued to his paper while smoke floated to the ceiling. Pons grabbed the pipe from the jailer's lips and threw it into the fire to be immediately consumed by flames. Then, he forced his unsheathed dagger between the man's parted lips and pressed the blade into the corners of his mouth until blood trickled down his chin. Accacia screamed at the sight. The bleeding jailer reached for Pons's hands, but he was too weak to push the blade away. The jailer moaned as he fought for his release, but Pons forced the blade deeper into his skin with every move he made to resist.

"Stop this," Accacia screamed. "Stop this now, I beg you!"

Pons sliced his skin. The jailer's earlier look of indifference had disappeared. His forehead was covered in sweat and it dripped into his open cuts, burning and heightening the already unbearable pain. He grunted in panic as he tried to pull Pons's hand away from his wounded mouth. Tears poured down Accacia's face as she watched. Aleco begged her to look away.

Accacia couldn't stand the sight a moment longer. She dashed across the room and threw her body against Pons. The guards were too stunned by her movements to intervene. Pons crashed to the floor and dropped his blade. It banged against the wooden floorboards and Accacia kicked it out of his reach. She brought a towel to the jailer. He looked at her in adoration as he accepted the cloth gratefully, until she was dragged away by the guildsmen.

Aleco cursed Accacia and her stupidity. Pons would never let this behavior go unpunished. Pons grabbed his knife from the floorboards and marched to Accacia. His chest heaved with deep breaths as he tried to control his anger. His hands dripped with blood that covered both the blade and the hilt. He grabbed Accacia by the throat. "I'm going to gut you like a fish," he whispered.

His threat angered Aleco. He shoved the guards aside and placed himself between Pons and Accacia. Aleco stared at Pons. "Back off," he warned, hiding Accacia's form from view with his own.

Pons smiled at him. Aleco's watchdog behavior was amusing to him. "I was going to give her a memorable beating until you gave me a better idea," he said. "I know something that will cause her much more pain." Aleco didn't know what he was referring to.

Pons slugged him in the stomach and Aleco felt the air leave his lungs. He didn't have enough time to process what happened before he was punched in the gut again, and he hunched over in pain. He flexed the muscles of stomach but it failed to diminish the agony.

"Stop," Accacia yelled.

Pons hit him again, and Aleco shouted in anger. He threw his shoulder into Pons's chest and knocked him to the floor. Aleco pressed the bottom of his boot against his throat, restricting his airflow just as Pons did to Accacia, and spit on his face. The guards pulled him off and held him in place until Pons got on his feet. Pons wiped the saliva from his cheek with Aleco's cloak. "She's more concerned with the safety of others than herself," he said. He pressed his face close to Aleco's. "Now I know her weakness."

Pons struck Aleco in the face with his fist, over and over again, until it was bleeding from every opening. Pons didn't need to pull down Aleco's hood to know he was hitting his mark. Blood trickled from the corners of his eyes, seeped from his nose, and dripped from his mouth onto the floor. Pons grinned at the sight. Now the man would be even more hideous than he already was. Aleco remained mute during the beating because he didn't want Accacia to know how painful it really was. Pons bashed his ribcage, slamming his fists into his ribs, bruising both the skin and bone. Aleco focused on one positive thought. At least he received the beating, not Accacia.

Aleco's mind floated in and out of consciousness. The last thing he remembered was falling to the hardwood floor before the blackness took him. Tears streamed down Accacia's face as she saw him hit the ground. She regretted what she had done, and sobbed to herself.

Pons addressed the jailer. "Now do you have room?"

The jailer walked down the hallway with the cloth pressed to his mouth. He returned a moment later and pointed to the nearest cell. "They will both have to bunk in there," he said through his soaked cloth. "I already paired together two other inmates to make this cell available."

Pons smiled at the jailer. "Thank you, Robinson."

The men walked Accacia into the cell and untied her bonds. They dragged Aleco's body into the cage, dropped him on the straw-covered floor, and then cut his restraints. They shut the metal door and locked the cage. "We'll return tomorrow, Accacia. Then, we'll decide what to do with you." Pons looked down at the floor. "And we'll kill this traitor."

Accacia gasped at his words. She heard their departing laughter as they walked down the hallway and left the prison. She fell to the floor and gathered Aleco in her arms. She placed his head in her lap and pressed her face against his; her tears splashed onto his cheek. "I'm so sorry, Aleco," she whispered as she squeezed his body. "I'm so sorry."

She couldn't stand the sight of his affliction. The skin of his face was soaked with blood and dripped from every opening. His bruises were already swelling and turning deeper shades of purple. She had no one to blame but herself. She had done this to him. She sobbed into his body and clutched him tightly to her chest as she rocked him back and forth. "I'm sorry."

She wanted to help him but she didn't know what she could do. She thought of the herbal remedies she could use to ease the pain and promote healing, but she had no access to those plants. There was only one remedy in her possession.

She grabbed the necklace around her throat. The Rhine Remedy was used for internal injuries, but plants can serve multiple purposes if used in a different way. Accacia rose to her feet and walked to the bars. "Excuse me?" she yelled down the hall. There was no response. She yelled again, "Please help me, sir."

The only reply she heard was her own echo down the hallway. She was about to turn away when she heard footsteps approaching. The cloth was still pressed to his mouth when he reached the bars of the cage. Robinson said nothing as he stood before her. His rag was soaked in blood, only the corners of the cloth were still white and untainted. Accacia's heart squeezed at the sight. "I'm sorry about what happened to you," she said as she stared at the bloody rag. His eyes softened at her empathy but Robinson remained silent. He continued to stare at her. "Can you do me a favor?" Accacia asked.

The jailer nodded.

"Could you fetch me a pail of warm water and a few cloths?" She looked back at Aleco. "My friend needs help." The jailer walked away and returned with the water and towels. He left them outside the cell since Accacia could reach through the bars. She grabbed what she needed as the man walked away. "Wait," she said to him.

He turned around and watched her open the capsule around her neck. She sprinkled a few pinches of the shredded plants into the pail. The water turned a pale green and smelled like mint. She drenched a towel in the bucket, then squeezed the excess water from the cloth and handed it to Robinson. "Place this on your cut. It will ease the pain."

The man did as she instructed. She watched the anxious lines around his face relax. The treatment was working. He grasped her hand through the bar. "Thank you," he mumbled.

She smiled. "You're welcome."

The man shuffled down the hallway to his desk, and Accacia returned to Aleco. She pressed the warm towel to his face, and was pleased to see the swelling decrease and the bruises lighten. She hoped it eased his pain as well. He occasionally moaned while he slept, but his groans stopped when Accacia ran her fingers through his hair. When Aleco ceased to stir, Accacia tended to her own needs. She wiped the blood from her face and neck then administered the remedy to her own cuts and bruises.

Accacia curled up beside Aleco and wrapped her arms around him while they slept. However, Accacia found no reprieve in sleep. Nightmares of Aleco dying continually scared her into consciousness. She would reassess him to verify he was still alive, checking his injuries, applying more medicine, and monitoring his breathing and heartbeat. The sound of her name stirred her from another attempt at sleep.

"Accacia," he moaned. Aleco's eyes were still closed, but she knew he was awake. "Accacia?" he repeated.

She touched his face with her palm. "I'm here," she whispered.

Aleco reached his arms across and felt her waist. He grabbed her torso and pulled her closer to him. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

"No."

Aleco finally opened his eyes and took a moment to focus. He saw Accacia's face next to his and the anxiety on his face diminished. "Where are we?" he asked.

"They locked us in a cell," she said. "Pons said he would deal with us later today."

Aleco groaned. "I was hoping this was a dream," he said. "Or I was in the afterlife because I died."

"Why would you assume you would be in the afterlife?" she teased.

Aleco laughed.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Not as bad as I thought I would," he said.

"I'm glad."

"Did you tend to me?"

"Of course." She smiled.

"Good."

She dropped her smile and tears fell from her eyes. Aleco knew what she was thinking. "Aleco, I'm so—"

He kissed her.

It was so unexpected that she didn't react when his lips touched hers. His lips lingered on hers for a moment before he pulled her face closer and deepened his kiss. She closed her eyes and responded by feeling his lips with her own. She ran her fingers through his hair and slipped her tongue into his mouth. Aleco groaned with pleasure at her intensity. Suddenly, Accacia realized what she was doing and pulled away.

Aleco sighed to himself, knowing he had made another mistake. Their friendship was falling apart with his every mishap. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I've wanted to do that for a long time. Since I'm going to die today, I thought now was the best time."

She looked away from him, still processing what just happened. Accacia hadn't expected such affection, nor did she understand why it occurred. She was certain he held no attraction to her; he even said it. Accacia realized he was lying. She never thought Aleco had feelings for her other than friendship, if that. He seemed so angry towards her most of the time. Accacia was confused by his actions. When his lips touched hers, she just responded, knowing it was happening, but unable to do anything to stop it. She was just so relieved that Aleco was going to survive that in the heat of the moment, her emotions carried her away and she let him kiss her. Accacia didn't understand what came over her. Accacia knew how frightened Aleco was, even if he didn't show his distress. She pitied him because she knew he would be killed and she would live. "We're going to get out of here, Aleco," she whispered.

"No," he countered. "You are going to get out of here."

Accacia rose to her feet. Aleco fought against the pain of his bruised ribs and sat up, grabbing her by the hand. "Please don't leave. I apologize for kissing you, and I won't do it again. I feel better when you are next to me." Her gaze was still elsewhere, unable to look at him. Not only were the bruises and cuts on his face painful to see, but she felt responsible for them. She had never heard him ask for any comfort and was surprised by the need in his voice. "Please?" he asked her. The desperation in his voice surprised even him. He had never been so raw with his emotions, or showed any, in fact.

Accacia watched his face for a moment and decided to honor his request. She lay down beside him, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. He was thankful she didn't object to this gesture. Accacia stared into his broken face and noticed the pink tint of his natural skin was replaced by a purple background. His bruises blended together to form a mask. "I'm so sorry, Aleco."

"You did nothing wrong, Accacia," he said. "I would do it again in a heartbeat."

"You don't mean that," she said.

"I would do anything to protect you. You don't deserve any kind of pain."

She closed her eyes. "I'm still sorry."

"Don't be."

Voices of the guards echoed down the hallway and interrupted their moment. Accacia scrambled to her feet and Aleco sat up and leaned against the bars. The guildsmen were accompanied by the jailer who carried a ring of keys. The guard opened the metal door. "It's your time to shine, Aleco," the guard said.

Accacia's heart burst from her chest at his words. They were going to kill him and she couldn't stop it. It was her fault that he was there to begin with. Instead of sacrificing herself to protect him, she had gotten them both captured. Aleco would be executed and she would be returned to Drake. Aleco grabbed the bars and hoisted his broken body up, rising slowly to his feet. Accacia watched him in despair, wishing this wasn't happening. She ran to him and wrapped her arms around him, wanting to comfort him in any way she could. He returned her embrace and kissed her on the forehead. Accacia was surprised by his gentle touch. He smiled as he held her, happy that she was in his arms. Aleco never before had feelings like the ones he sensed course through his body to his heart. He was glad he got to experience them once before he died. He let himself smell the scent of her hair and feel her body against his. He also enjoyed the sound of her tears; she was crying for him.

The guildsman was growing tired of the scene, waiting for the lovers to end their moment of goodbye. "Come on," the guard said. "Let's get this over with."

Accacia cried into Aleco's chest, and he squeezed her tightly, wanting to comfort her in her obvious despair. She looked up into his smiling face. "Don't worry about me," he said. He kissed her on the forehead again. Accacia noticed his smile never faltered, just as his mother's never did in her last moments. She couldn't believe how calm he was. He kissed her on the lips and his heart raced as he touched her mouth with his own. He didn't expect her to return the embrace, but he wanted to kiss her one last time. To his surprise, she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his affection, moving her lips against his own. As she pulled his face to her own, his heart enlarged and thawed from its iced block of pain. He wished he didn't have to leave her. He finally had something to live for.

The guard was tired of the scene. "Enough of this," he said. "Grab him!"

The men pulled Aleco away from Accacia's grasp. She squeezed his hand until they yanked him out of the cell. Aleco kept his eyes glued to Accacia's as they pulled him away, a slight smile on his lips. They turned the corner and he was gone.

Chamber of the Vast

18

Burning torches illuminated the dirt-paved road that led to the stone tower erected in the rear of the Vast. The tall structure was obscured in shadow except for the pinnacle, which was displayed in sunlight coming from holes in the ceiling. As they marched closer to the entrance, Aleco studied the structure. He had visited the edifice many times and been in the presence of the Chief, but never as an enemy—until now. Aleco's arms were restricted by two men. They never eased their hold as they progressed forward. They were familiar with Aleco's abilities.

They passed the wooden huts where guildsmen resided. The men who labored in the shops or served in the Chamber lived within the Vast, close to work. Other members lived in rooms within the tunnels inside the earth. The shop owners were never concerned that thieves would rob their stores or steal their gold because of one simple reason: thievery between Brothers was not tolerated. Perpetrators were punished by Chasm Death, a ceremony where convicted criminals were pushed into the chasm, falling to their violent deaths in the hidden rocks below. Aleco estimated two hundred skeletons were scattered in the dark crevasse.

Men who survived the fall were stuck on the sharp stones with every bone in their body broken and shattered, unable to move. Even days after the ceremony, they could still be laying there helpless and weak, incapable of concentrating on anything but the excruciating pain. Aleco heard their faint screams as he walked across the bridge. If their necks weren't broken or their skulls were intact, they would perish from the loss of blood or lack of water, food, and heat. If they were even less fortunate, the snakes of the chasm would squeeze their bodies until they suffocated, feeding on their carcasses. Either way, they passed from this life alone, without a single comfort, as they listened to the last thumps of their beating heart while choking on blood that flooded their mouth. The guildsmen feared this aspect of the punishment more than the death itself.

Aleco identified the guildsmen who passed by him. When their glances met, the men's widened in surprise, and Aleco knew they recognized him. Aleco spotted one man in particular—Devry. As he exited the Weapons Shop, Devry gazed at a shiny battle axe in his hand and descended the creaking stairs with a smile on his face. He was playing with his new toy when he looked up and saw Aleco. He stopped in his tracks and watched the guildsmen advance Aleco, hands clasped behind his back and without his legendary sword, towards the Chamber, the residence of the Chief. Devry shook his head in disapproval.

They entered the stone doors of the Chamber. The stone beneath their boots was replaced by mahogany red marble, which blended with the orange reflection of the flames from the ignited torches. It gave the impression that the tile below their feet was on fire. The clap of their heels resounded with every step. The sound amplified against the tile floor and matching marble walls. The tower was silent with the exception of the occasional crack from the dancing flames of the torches and the sound of their falling feet. The silence of the building always put Aleco to sleep.

They strolled through the entryway and into the hallway. They passed dozens of honey-colored doors until they reached the end of the tunnel, where a single golden door faced them. One of the guards knocked on the heavy wood, the sound echoing through the hallway.

The Chief slid the edge of his dagger across his open palm, a habit he adopted when in thought. The point of the blade glided across his rough and calloused skin. The dancing flames from the hearth were reflected in the pristine metal, and the flames licked the dagger like a desiccated branch of firewood. He could see the fire pop in the mirrored metal. Pons informed the Chief of the recapture of Aleco the evening before, and the Chief had been pondering the situation endlessly. The Chief's mind was always clear when he held a weapon in his grasp.

Aleco had returned to the hideaway. The Chief instructed his guildsmen to return Aleco, but had never expected it to happen. He trained Aleco himself, and he knew how formidable he was. If that man didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be. So why did he let himself be taken?

The Chief sighed. Pons had explained the situation. Aleco was found in their woods with the woman they were contracted to find, but had no apparent intention of returning her. In fact, he defended her. His actions made no sense and the confusion was causing a headache to build behind his eyes. The Chief never extended mercy to any Brother who violated their oath, never blinked as his guildsmen were pushed over the cliff to their deaths, and never gave them comfort in their last moments—but Aleco was different. He had a personal investiture with this man. For the first time, he wanted to extend his nonexistent mercy and pardon Aleco of his crime—the desertion of his people, an unforgivable act.

But how could he? The dismissal of that crime alone was unacceptable, and now this? Aleco killed two of his men in the woods and stole the woman for his own personal gain. It was obvious Aleco was the enemy to their cause and the Chief couldn't convince the guildsmen otherwise. The Chief sighed again—he had no choice.

Aleco had been irreplaceable within their organization. His fighting skills surpassed all others. His knowledge of horticulture was extremely useful, and his intellect was unparalleled by almost everyone. Aleco had fetched more gold, killed more men, and diverted more disasters than anyone in the guild. The Chief hated to see him go.

Pons watched the Chief slide the blade across his open palm while he was lost in thought. Silently, he stood by the door and waited for further instruction. He anticipated what those orders would be and waited for the Chief to announce Aleco's execution. The final end to Aleco made him smile. With Aleco's permanent annihilation, Pons would retain his rank in the guild as the First Elite Ranger, directly under the Chief himself, a position Aleco previously held. But Pons wouldn't stop there; one day he would get what he wanted. The tap on the door interrupted his fantasy. The Chief placed the dagger on his desk and nodded to Pons. He opened the door and let them enter.

The guards shoved Aleco through the entryway and marched him into the colossal room. "Release him," Pons instructed the men. They dropped their grips and disappeared into the hallway. Pons beckoned Aleco to move deeper into the room. With his hands still bound behind his back, he entered the heart of the chamber and stopped before a chestnut-colored desk. Pons shoved him forward.

The room was identical to the rest of the tower. A massive fire stood to his right, rising skyward at his entrance as the air from the open doorway fed the hostility of the flames. It mirrored Aleco's own mood. He wanted to finish this as quickly as possible. He stared at the Chief, who matched his gaze with equal intensity, but said nothing. Aleco could feel the disappointment in his heated look.

The Chief rose and walked to the front of his desk. He leaned against the wood with his arms crossed over his wide chest. Thick pricks of gray stubble covered his wrinkled mouth and long chin, matching the mature color of his fringe. His moustache was timeless and still produced the black hair he saw in his youth. Even with a hunched frame, his height surpassed Aleco's height of six feet. Silently, he appraised Aleco with pitch black eyes, a very unusual color for any human. He was exactly the way Aleco remembered him, quiet and brooding with the ability to snap instantly. The Chief was known for his blank countenance, his mind could never be read with such a look of indifference. Aleco waited for him to speak. It was custom within their society to only speak to the Chief if he addressed you first and you could only refer to him by his title. A stupid tradition to Aleco. Most guildsmen had no knowledge of his true name.

"Cut his bonds," the Chief directed Pons without looking at him. His eyes remained glued to Aleco's. Pons hesitated for a moment before he cut the rope. "Go ahead," he said, squeezing the hilt of his blade. "He'll be dead before he can blink."

Aleco's released hands fell to his sides and he nodded in gratitude. Aleco had no intention of attacking the Chief, an opponent he knew he couldn't overpower. The man's voice struck Aleco with familiarity; the baritone sound resonated as a recognized song. It was the voice of an old friend. "You know why you are here, Aleco." He withdrew the midnight blue blade from the scabbard. The stones shined in the hilt of the sword and reflected the light of the blazing fire. It was a hypnotic picture.

Aleco's eyes glanced at the elegant blade, unique in its color. "Yes, and let me shorten this visit. My punishment will be execution by the Death Chasm," he said. "This, I already know."

The Chief stared at him and sheathed his blade. He realized intimidation was useless with this man. The Chief knew Aleco was injured under his cloak. He could tell by the droop of his shoulders and his haggard breathing. The Chief looked at Pons, knowing he was responsible for the beating.

"Now let me go," Aleco said. He had only a few hours of life left and he didn't want to spend them there.

"All men fear their inevitable deaths," the Chief said as he circled him. The tap of his heavy boots echoed in the room. "You are no different, Aleco. I do admire your unflinching bravery, however, or at least this façade."

Aleco waited to be dismissed. He had nothing more to say to this man, no defense and no arguments. He already accepted his fate. The loud crack of the flames disturbed the silence. The Chief continued to circle him. His body turned into a silhouette as he passed the hearth and the light of the blaze outlined him in shadow. The Chief walked in silence, waiting for Aleco to speak.

"I deserve to die," Aleco said.

"Is this remorse for what you did to us?" the Chief asked with interest.

"Hardly," he said. "It is remorse for what I did for you."

The Chief recognized the acceptance in Aleco's expression, a look of acknowledgment of his own inevitable death. That was a feeling the Chief could never fathom because he loved living far too much. The flinch of Aleco's hands and the tension in his shoulders told the Chief what he was feeling—that he wanted this to end.

"Let's cut to the point," the Chief said. "Give me what I want, and I'll give you what you want."

Aleco eyed him suspiciously. "Which is?"

"I want answers."

"To what?" he asked.

The Chief stopped directly before him. He rubbed his chin with his fingertips as he organized his thoughts. "You betrayed your oath to the guild—"

Aleco rolled his eyes. How many times was he going to hear this?

"A crime you knew would kill you eventually," he said. "You abandoned your Brothers and chose a life of exile."

Aleco sighed in annoyance. He left the guild years ago; it was time to move on.

"Tell me why, Aleco." Aleco remained silent, and the Chief continued. "The guild sheltered you, protected you, and made you into the fearsome warrior you have become. After all I've done, you still turn your back in disrespect," he said. "I want to know why."

When Aleco asked the Chief to assist him in his mission to assassinate the duke, his formidable brother, and aid in his vengeance, the Chief denied his request but never explained why. The Chief, although arrogant, possessed a keen intelligence. Aleco knew he could answer his own questions; however, he wanted Aleco to admit it. "You know why," he spat. "I told you what my sole purpose was."

The Chief nodded. He knew of Aleco's attempts to thwart his brother, including his last effort when he entered the keep and was almost killed with a mortal stab to the chest. The Chief had no idea how he escaped that one. "And how did that work out?" Aleco looked away, ashamed of his failure and the Chief's knowledge of it. "A mission I knew was doomed to fail from the beginning." He sighed. "I refused to aid your vendetta because I knew how futile it was. I never knew how personally you would take that rejection."

Aleco felt the adrenaline course through his limbs. He wished he still possessed his three-bladed throwing dagger. He imagined the hilt protruding from the Chief's throat, a thin slit in the skin that released a waterfall of blood. He had trusted this man enough to reveal his true identity and his ultimate goal. The Chief promised that Aleco had the entire support of both himself and the Guild at his disposal, and it was just a matter of finding the time to strike. Aleco waited for the day to come, but it never did.

"Aleco, you came to the guild with one purpose—to become a killer," he said. "I knew this from the moment we met. Of every apprentice I've ever had, you were the most gifted because you wanted it, needed it, more than anyone else." He grabbed Aleco by the shoulder and shook him slightly. "But, I knew when the moment came to stab him through the heart, your anger would falter, and you would lose the will." He released his hold. "Face it. You're soft, Aleco."

Aleco said nothing. The words he wanted to say would warrant his execution on the spot. He wanted to see Accacia once more so he kept his mouth shut and forced back the explosion of threats. Aleco knew the real reason the Chief had refused his request was because the duke was a substantial reservoir of gold. Who knows how accommodating his successor would be to their cause? The duke relied on the guild for their aid in information, slavery transports, and even assassinations of others rulers of the Continent, making him a valuable client to the Chief. Instead of fulfilling his promise to Aleco, he chose to betray him and protect the duke from his vengeance. The Chief was no Brother to Aleco.

Aleco heard the sound of the door behind him. A guard entered the Vast and approached the Chief, whispering intangible words into his ear. The Chief nodded his understanding as the guard continued to whisper. "Thank you," the Chief said. "You may go."

The guard exited through the doorway.

Aleco was the target of his signature black gaze and he wondered what the guard had said. Aleco wanted to carve his dark eyes out with the hilt of his dagger. Someday, he hoped he would get the chance. When Aleco fled from Letumian, he had stumbled into the hands of the guildsmen within Aequor Forest, and they escorted him to the hideaway with the intention of keeping him as a slave. The Chief made different plans for him. Aleco respected the Chief and even admired him through the years. He exhibited such strength and masculinity, the depiction of the ideal man that Aleco wanted to become. The Chief recognized within Aleco the same ferocity he possessed and chose to train Aleco himself. It was a decision the others were unhappy with, particularly Pons. Aleco rose to prominence and quickly escalated to an Elite Ranger, a rank only a handful ever reached.

The Chief sheltered Aleco's identity from the other guildsmen at Aleco's insistence. He told the Chief he had valuable information about Drake that the guild could use to their advantage. The Chief agreed to keep his identity a secret in exchange for this information and allowed him to remain hooded and cloaked at all times so he wouldn't be recognized. The guildsmen were suspicious of this behavior, but after a few years, no one deemed it unusual. The Chief protected him and continued to do so.

As the Chief reflected on Aleco's atrocious behavior, in addition to new the information he received, his calm front disappeared and his anger shined through. His face contorted in a scowl as he squeezed his fingers into clenched fists. He stared at Aleco. "You murdered two of my men," he hissed. "Decapitated one and split the skull of the other, both treasonous acts."

Aleco met his fury. "Your men sliced her throat and forced her to the ground with her legs spread! They gave me no choice." Aleco advanced to the Chief. Pons pulled his sword from the scabbard, preparing for an attack. "The duke specified she was to remain unpillaged, and your men broke that rule. Drake would have your head for that," he said. "I did you a favor."

"The punishment of the men is my responsibility," he responded. "Not yours, Aleco." He grabbed Aleco by the throat and pushed him back.

"As if you didn't already tamper with the goods, Aleco," Pons said from the corner. He sheathed his blade when he saw Aleco step back. "What were you doing with her anyway? Other than lying about what she was to you."

The Chief looked at him quizzically.

"Aleco claimed she was his sister," Pons explained.

"And what is she really?" the Chief asked.

Aleco met his gaze. "Nothing," he said.

The Chief appraised the features he had known for years. Aleco was a man who never lied and told the brutal truth fearlessly, but the lines around his face and the look in his eyes were novel to him—he was lying. "If you planned to return her alone and hoard the coin, why would you risk traveling through our woods?" The Chief stroked his chin with his fingertips. "Those are slim odds for a man who never gambles." The Chief returned to circling him like a shark, searching for the best cut of muscle before the deadly bite. "What say you, Aleco?"

Aleco said nothing. He could think of no possible answer but the truth.

"She wanted to be found, didn't she, Aleco?" the Chief asked.

Aleco raised his eyebrow. How did he know that?

"She wanted to find us, didn't she?" he continued.

"No."

"Do not lie to me, Aleco." The Chief dropped his hands to his sides but the fire still blazed in his eyes. "She came here to spare you from execution. By handing herself over, she thought she could ensure your safety, a wasted effort. What a touching gesture." The Chief looped around him once more before stopping in front of him. "But you wanted to stop her, rescue her from her fate, didn't you?"

"How do you know this?" He suspected it had something to do with the guard who whispered in his ear moments ago. Accacia must have been interrogated in his absence.

The Chief smiled into his face. "Is this love, Aleco?" he said with a smile. "So you did tamper with the goods."

Aleco said nothing.

"Every crime you have committed is punishable by death, Aleco."

"So be it, Nolan," he said.

The Chief blinked at the sound of his name. Aleco had addressed him by his true name on a regular basis before he had abandoned the guild. He had always done so in private, and the Chief allowed the exchange because he considered Aleco a friend and an equal. The sound brought back the sense of camaraderie and trust he had not felt since Aleco's departure.

The Chief studied his face. He was impressed by his resilience in the face of impending death. His expression was calm even though he was about to enter the void, ceasing to exist forever. It was a fate that kept the Chief up late into the night, pondering the inevitable death of his soul for eternity. That Aleco could be unafraid surprised him. He couldn't help but respect Aleco, in spite of his defiance. Any other man would beg for pardon on his knees. Or, he was just a better liar than the Chief gave him credit for. Either way, the death of Aleco would be a waste. The Chief made his decision. "You stand before me as two possible men. One that will die or one that will be reborn. I suggest you choose the latter," he said. "I cannot deny the usefulness of your abilities and intelligence. I've had no better ranger than you. Because of this fact, I have something to offer you."

Aleco already knew his response to the proposition. Pons shifted his weight in the corner and his eyes widened at the Chief's words. He prayed forgiveness was not on its way because it would complicate his plans.

"Rejoin the guild and your sins will be vindicated, forgotten. You will resume your responsibilities and be reestablished as a Brother," he said. "We have discovered something astounding. Even you, Aleco, would appreciate its worth, and you can become part of this amazing find. I suggest you accept my generous offer."

Pons's mouth gaped open. Not only did the Chief pardon his crimes, but now he was revealing their most guarded secret to this outlaw. That secret was limited to a small circle of Brothers. Why did his leader hold such misplaced affection for this man? Pons shook with anger at this favoritism. No other man, in the history of their past, had been given such mercy.

"What discovery?" Aleco asked.

"That is privileged information. Only guild members are allowed to know it." He smiled. "But let's just say death is now a mere obstacle that can be overcome."

Aleco's eyes widened at his revelation. The impact of his words washed over him like crashing waves to the shore. The Chief had found immortality. Nolan had obsessively searched for a possible alternative to his demise, a compulsion Aleco never understood since there was no way to cheat death. He was amazed such a solution existed and completely astonished that Nolan had found it.

"If I agree, will you release Accacia?"

"Did you not hear what I said?" He laughed. "I just revealed you could live forever and your thoughts are stuck on a whore?"

Aleco squared his shoulders at the insult. He swallowed his anger and steadied his hand. "Answer my question."

"No," the Chief said. "She will be returned to the duke as planned."

"What is my other option? What if I don't want to return?"

"Then I'll push you in the chasm myself," he threatened.

"Break my neck before I go over, if you can."

The Chief was astounded. "You choose death?"

"Yes," he said.

The Chief shook his head in confusion. "Why?"

"I would rather die as an honorable man than a thief who returns slaves to their masters. I've murdered countless innocents, stole from those who possess less than I, and yet I didn't fulfill my purpose." Aleco reflected on his past and realized he had accomplished nothing. Instead of avenging the death of his parents, he killed naïve innocents just to reach the duke, joined an organization that prided themselves on their ability to steal, and stripped away the freedom of hundreds. He was more evil than the man he sought to kill. Anger flooded his body as he remembered his horrific past. He wondered if Accacia would still love him if she knew how deep his soul was tainted with evil. Aleco spoke his thoughts. "I've failed in all my endeavors. I will gladly atone for my heinous deeds with my spilt blood in the chasm," he said. "I was too much of a coward to end my own life, so this is a blessing. You are doing me a favor, Nolan—you are doing everyone a favor."

Despite his good sense, the Chief had extended a hand of forgiveness, allowing Aleco to return to the safety of the guild, and the idiot didn't want it. He had just revealed the chance of immortality, to never die by normal means, and Aleco not only rejected this offer, but chose to die prematurely. The man was insane. He nodded to Pons, who walked over and bound his wrists once more. Aleco stared at the Chief as he was restrained. He held the gaze of his previous leader.

"Take him away," the Chief dismissed. "The ceremony will commence at nightfall, the first of its kind, where a man will voluntarily fall into the abyss."

Pons dragged him away.

Vast Prison

19

"Stand back," the guard said to Accacia.

She rose to her feet at the urgency of his voice. They carried Aleco down the hall and she was shocked by his reappearance. They cut his bonds and shoved him into the cage, locking the door behind them.

"See you tonight." The guard winked. He laughed and exited the hallway.

Accacia stared at Aleco in disbelief. She sat in the cage with her knees to her chin, overcome with waves of sobbing at his execution. She had prayed the ending would come quick for him, that he wouldn't suffer. The fact that he stood before her caused her to question her sanity.

She rubbed her hands across his chest then cupped his face, feeling the skin of his flesh with her fingertips, ensuring he was physically real. Aleco smiled down at her and noticed her soaked cheeks. She mourned for him. His smile widened at the sight.

He kissed the tears around her eyes. "Yes, I'm real," he whispered.

"How?" she asked. "I don't understand."

"My execution will be tonight," he explained. "They just wanted to formally pronounce the punishment of my crimes. Big waste of my time." He smiled. Now he was where he wanted to be, with the person he wanted to be with.

Her body began to tremble. "No," she whispered.

"Shhh, Accacia," he hushed her, hugging her to his chest.

"I'm so sorry." She sobbed.

He held her closer. "I'm not."

"This is entirely my fault," she said. "If I hadn't gone there, you wouldn't have followed me, and this wouldn't be happening." She sniffed and wiped her tears on his shirt.

"Shut up," he snapped. His words came out harsher than he meant. "If I hadn't been an asshole and thrown you out, we wouldn't be here. It is entirely my fault." He kissed her on the forehead. "You are not to blame for any of this."

Aleco carried her to the cot and lay down beside her as they wrapped their arms around one another. Aleco stared into her exquisite face and lost himself in the beauty of her emerald eyes, which were streaming with tears. He never felt this way about anyone before, and it was hard luck he found it so late in life, just hours before his death. He was an experienced man, having been with many women, mostly whores, but never formed a meaningful relationship with them—with anyone, for that matter. The intensity of his feelings surprised him most of all. She brought out a new side of him that Aleco never knew he had. He didn't know how tender he could be until that day. His life was consumed by anger and revenge, but now happiness and love existed within his black heart. He knew she was responsible for the change. He cupped her face with his hands and brushed a tear away with his thumb. The intensity of her emotions was a beacon of her love for him, he was certain of it. For the first time, he truly feared death. He did not want to part with her and decided he wasn't going to.

"The jailer, Robinson, owes you, Accacia."

The sudden reference surprised her. "What do you mean?"

"You saved his life and he will return the favor. I need you to do something."

"Anything," she said. She was alarmed by the desperation in his voice. "What do you want me to do?"

"Ask him to send Devry to our cell," he said. "Tell him we wish to say farewell to him."

"Who's Devry?"

"Possibly our savior," he said.

Accacia rose from the bed and shouted down the hallway. Robinson came to the cell with a new cloth across his mouth. It wasn't nearly as bloody as the last one. The wrinkles around his eyes softened as he looked at her.

He mumbled through the cloth. "Do you need something?"

"Yes," she said with a smile. "Could you please bring Devry to us?" His eyes sagged in suspicion. She assuaged his skepticism. "We just want to say farewell," she said. "He is a friend of ours."

The jailer remained muted where he stood. The dazed look in his eyes told Accacia he was having an internal debate.

She reached her hand through the bar and grabbed his. "Please?"

He glanced at their touching fingers and nodded. "I'll try."

He left their cell and exited through the door. She turned to Aleco. "Do you think Devry will help us?" she asked.

"For the right price." He smiled and opened his arms to her. She eagerly walked into them and he cradled her to his chest. "I can't believe you are the one who might get us out of here."

"Or might get us both killed."

"Well, I'm dead either way." He laughed. "But they will never kill you, Accacia. All they care about his collecting that reward, and they can't get it if you're dead."

"Well, if we can't escape, I hope they kill me," she said. "I would be happier in death than with him."

He knew she was referring to Drake. The thought of her in his arms made his stomach churn. Not just because of his atrocious nature, but because she belonged to Aleco now. He couldn't let that happen. He carried her back to the cot and laid her down. He leaned over her small frame and looked at her. Her eyes brightened under his gaze.

Accacia pulled back his hood and looked into his face, seeing his desire for her in his eyes. She didn't realize how attracted he was to her or how much he cared for her until that moment. Accacia struggled with Aleco's appearance, especially since his features were identical to Drake's, and she found herself in a tough predicament. She feared Aleco just as she feared his brother, understanding his rage could take control of his mind and he could hurt her again. She couldn't shake the comparison she had for the two men. But she still felt her heart race when she looked at Aleco. She knew he wasn't like his brother, a psychotic rapist, but she couldn't completely trust him either. Accacia decided to disregard the warning she felt towards him because it wasn't going to matter soon.

"How do they not understand the connection between you and Drake?" she asked. "They know your name."

"But they haven't seen my face." His eyes stared at her lips and Accacia knew what he was thinking. He kissed her and massaged her mouth with his own, feeling the warmth of her lips. Despite the pain of his broken body, he held his weight over her and enjoyed every moment of his bliss. Suddenly, she rolled on top of him and leaned over him, kissing him the entire way. Accacia knew he was hurting and wanted to spare him any further agony. The gesture deepened his feelings for her, and he kissed her passionately. The sweet taste of her lips sent shivers down his spine, and the curves of her body quickened his breath. He had never been more aroused, more attracted to a woman than he was at that moment. His feelings surpassed the physical lures of lust. He wanted to make love to her, but knew he was inhibited by their predicament. She caressed his tongue with her own, and in that moment, he didn't care where he was or who was watching. He reached his hand up her shirt and was about to remove it when they heard footsteps approach.

She pulled away from him and got to her feet. Aleco moaned to himself as if he had been stabbed. Did they have to come back now? He rose from the cot and approached the bars. Accacia was already standing beside the door. Devry stood outside the prison and stared at the pair of them. His gaze honed in on Aleco. "What did I tell you?" he said as he pointed at the cage. "I told you they would get you eventually and so they have."

Aleco rolled his eyes. "Get us out of here, Devry."

"What?" he asked incredulously. "Are you insane? How am I supposed to do that?"

"You can figure out a way," he said. "I know you can."

Devry looked down the hall towards Robinson then lowered his voice to a whisper.

"I can't, even if I wanted to," he said. He nodded at Accacia. "I need the money."

"I will give you the money," Aleco growled. "Just get us out of here!"

Sarcasm filled his voice. "You have sixty lunas lying around, Aleco?"

"Split among the guild, you would only be getting a fraction of that," he said. "I can double your profits if you release us."

"You have that kind of money?"

"What do you think I've been doing the past two years? I work better alone." Accacia's glance shifted between the two of them. She patiently waited for them to come to an agreement. Devry stared at him. He didn't know if he could trust Aleco's word. Aleco read his thoughts. "I promise I will pay you," he said. "I will leave it hidden in a location, and you can access it when you have the time. Agreed?"

"If you burn me, I will kill you, Aleco," he threatened. "If I'm found, they will execute me along with you. Do you understand what I'm risking?"

"I know," he said. "And I won't burn you. If we are captured, we promise to never expose you, even under pain of torture."

Accacia finally spoke. "Please, Devry?"

Devry looked at her and saw the desperation in her eyes. Her beauty was hypnotizing and the sound of her voice flowed like poured honey. He stared at her for a moment. "I'll do it," he said to her. She smiled and his knees felt weak. Aleco was glad Accacia was able to convince him with her charms.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Devry pulled his gaze from her beautiful face and cleared his throat. "I will bring you the tools and leave guild garments outside the building," he said. "After that, you guys are on your own."

"Thank you," Aleco said.

"I want my payment brought to Morkarh and given to a woman named Lydia. She lives in the mineral district in the corner of the city," he said. "Aleco, I will know if you have done what I asked."

"You have my word," he assured him.

Devry turned and walked away.

Aleco and Accacia waited for Devry to return. Aleco had his arms wrapped around her as she leaned against his chest. He could feel her frantic heartbeat thud in her petite frame, and knew how frightened she was. "We are going to make it," he said as he kissed her on the head. She squeezed his arm in reply, too anxious to speak.

Devry returned an hour later and approached their cell. He looked down the hallway behind him before he pulled two sawing knives from his robe. He handed them through the bars.

"Good luck," he whispered.

Aleco nodded.

After Devry left, Aleco and Accacia began sawing through the metal bars of the cell. They had to carve through the steel slowly because of the noise it made when the blade cut the metal. Twice they had to stop and stow the tools out of sight when Robinson walked down the hallway. After he disappeared around the corner, they continued to hack through the cage until the doorway was completely severed from the bars. Aleco returned the door back to its frame and it deceptively appeared intact.

"After we take Robinson out, we'll hide his body and leave the building."

"His body?"

"Yes," he said. "We have to kill him."

"No." The flames in her green eyes roared into an inferno. "I refuse to do that."

"You won't have to," he growled. "I'll do it."

"No," she repeated as she grabbed his arm. "If you kill him, I'm not going with you."

"Accacia, he might mention Devry. It has to be done."

She walked back to the cage and opened the door.

"Damn you, Accacia," he snarled. "Fine, I'll knock him out."

She smiled. "Thank you."

The pair crept down the hallway and rounded the corner. Robinson was seated at his desk, smoking a new pipe when he spotted Aleco enter the room. His eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected entrance, and then he saw Accacia trail behind him. "We are so sorry about this," she apologized in advance.

Aleco ran to him and punched him in the side of his head. He immediately dropped to the floor and his eyelids fell shut. Aleco carried him down the hall and deposited his body in their unoccupied cell.

Aleco withdrew one of the sawing blades and handed it to Accacia. "Don't be afraid to use this," he commanded. "Aim for the vein in the neck." He pointed to the artery on his own throat for demonstration.

Her face contorted in disgust. "Only if I have no choice," she said.

Aleco rolled his eyes. "Let's go."

They found the black capes hidden in the back of the building and adorned themselves with the attire. Aleco fitted Accacia's mask over her face and tucked the silky strands of her brunette locks beneath the fabric. They walked through the Vast together, crossed the bridge, and entered the tunnel they arrived through. Aleco knew it wouldn't be long before someone discovered what happened. The watch was changing soon.

Accacia followed Aleco as they traveled through the various underground tunnels until they approached an opening. The hallways were dimly lit by flickering torches along the wall. The flames were weak, but the light flashed across the walls. The minuscule minerals and elements glittered in the light, like flashing diamonds in the sun. The air smelled wet and damp and Accacia wondered if the water from the surface trickled down through the soil and caused the clammy air. She also wondered how they channeled enough drinking water into the city for so many inhabitants. Aleco halted at the door and signaled for Accacia to remain outside the doorway. After he entered the room, she discerned the quiet sounds of a man being choked and the audible snap of a neck. He returned with their packs and two black swords identical to the blades the guildsmen carried.

"Why are you giving this to me?"

"Just wear it," Aleco said. "It looks odd not having a sword around the waist. Let's go."

Aleco headed to the left of the entrance, and Accacia wondered where he was heading. She was certain the exit was down the right tunnel. "Where are we going now?" she asked. "The door is the opposite way."

"Hold on," he said. "I saw something on the way here. I have to get a better look."

"You're joking."

"No." He laughed. "You are starting to sound like me. It will only take a second."

Aleco turned into a small room and saw the familiar sparkle he had seen the other day. He pulled the blade from his scabbard and searched the unoccupied room. He sheathed his blade and ran to the pile of square, metallic bits of unidentified metal in the corner. Aleco dropped his pack and shoveled the iridescent gems into the sack.

"What are you doing?" Accacia whispered. She looked back to the door but saw no one approach.

"I'll explain later."

He finished packing the stones and shouldered the heavy sack. The weight was enormous, more than Aleco was used to carrying while fleeing from adversaries. He wasn't certain of the importance of the gems, but had a feeling he knew their purpose. "Let's move."

They entered a maze of underground hallways until they cut back to the main tunnel. Aleco was dashing through the deserted hallways until they found the central passage. They walked through it until they spotted the red door up ahead. He turned to Accacia. "Stay here," he commanded.

Accacia nodded. She didn't want to participate in the battle. She waited in silence until she heard his call up ahead.

"Come on!"

She ran across the soil and around the curve of the tunnel. She spotted seven bodies littering the floor. Aleco was removing his signature three-bladed throwing knife from a man's throat. She stopped and stared at the destruction. He unsheathed his guildsmen sword. "Come," he yelled. She followed him to the red door. He approached the left side and pointed her to the right side. "We need to insert our blades together, simultaneously. If the timing isn't exact, we'll be stuck here," he said. "It has to be perfect."

Accacia unsheathed her sword and approached the opening. Her hands shook as she gripped the sword; its weight and texture were unlike anything she had ever felt. Her fingers ran across the hilt and she felt the smooth surface of the stones in the pommel of the blade. The power of the weapon hummed in her skin. She glanced at the lock within the door and forced herself to concentrate. They had to get out of there.

"On my count," he said. "One, two, three—" They inserted their blades together and turned the lock. Accacia heard the audible click within the mechanism and sighed with relief—it worked.

The doors opened with the same loud boom as they had when they entered the Serpentine Guild Hideaway. The heavy entryway swung open and revealed the empty cavern on the outside.

Aleco turned to Accacia. "Now run like hell."

Aequor Forest

20

The pair dashed through the forest with all the speed they could muster. The trees blurred with the darkness as they sprinted past the foundations of Aequor Forest. Accacia relied upon Aleco's shadowed form for direction. She was surprised by his agility considering he had just been beaten to the brink of death. She ignored the growing knot in her side and followed his trail.

Aequor Forest faded to the background as they ran through the open plains, heading to the east of the Continent, their destination Morkarh. The moon was the only source of illumination over the mounds of hills. She stumbled behind him as her feet caught on the invisible holes in the earth. Accacia massaged the spasm in her waist and breathed through the pain. They hadn't stopped for hours and exhaustion was creeping through her. The sun was inching over the horizon, announcing the coming of morning. They had been fleeing all night, and she wouldn't last much longer.

Aleco noticed her slowed pace. "Come on."

Accacia leaned forward and caught her breath. As far as she could tell, they weren't being pursued and no one was chomping at their heels.

Aleco marched up to her and grabbed her by the elbow. "Do you need me to carry you?"

She took a deep breath. "No."

"Then let's go." He continued his pace.

Accacia inhaled one more deep breath before she followed him. She forced her legs to carry her to his side, but trailed behind him as they ventured forward. Aleco noticed her exhausted state. They would stop just before sunrise.

The evening was freezing and the dry bite of the cold announced the approach of winter. If Aleco hadn't been running so fast, the midnight ice would cause him to shiver and Accacia would simply freeze to death. Aleco predicted the coming season would be exceptionally fierce and unforgiving. Plants would be annihilated, farm animals wouldn't survive the cold, and food rations would be even smaller than usual. He enjoyed the winter season, but knew most didn't; and for good reason.

Aleco turned into the last line of trees before reaching the expansive desert that surrounded the city he despised so much. He was annoyed to return to the sandy province so soon. Within a week, the desert would be blanketed with snow and converted into uninhabitable tundra. Morkarh was a city built in an unfortunate location for human activity. The summer months prohibited any significant precipitation, which caused the desert to be a dry and arid landscape, unsuited for farming and cultivation. The winter months provided precipitation, but in the form snow and ice, which was inaccessible for crops and animals. The city was damned.

Signs of the end of the fall season were everywhere. Red leaves littered the ground, crunching under their feet as they searched for a hiding place. The dryness of the cold stung his nostrils and dried the skin of his lips, which cracked and peeled at the loss of moisture. Aleco licked his lips instinctively, making them feel even more parched.

Accacia was overcome with fatigue, and he knew she needed rest. He found a secluded thicket surrounded by oak trees and determined it was the best place to stop. He encouraged her to lay down and she did so without question. He curled up beside her, wrapping his heavy cloak around both of their bodies, hiding their forms from view. He squeezed her to his chest and kissed her lips, which remained immobile to his touch; she had already fallen asleep.

"Sleep well," he whispered.

Accacia moaned in her sleep and startled Aleco from his dreams, which, for the first time, were wonderful. He looked over at the object of his fantasy and smiled at her slight form. Her body was pressed against his with her arm wrapped snugly around his waist. She buried her face in his neck and he felt her warm breath fall on his skin.

Guilt flooded his mind as he remembered the content of his dreams and what had transgressed behind the privacy of his eyes. He smiled at the memory. He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her, attempting to wake her up pleasantly. She moaned again, and Aleco hoped the topic of their dreams were the same.

Accacia sighed as her eyes fluttered open. She focused on Aleco's grinning face before her.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

She nodded as she stretched her arms outwards. Accacia gazed at the sky. By the position of the sun, she knew evening would arrive soon. She had slept all day. "Are they following us?" she moaned.

Aleco dropped his smile. "I am certain they are," he said. "We just haven't seen them yet. We'll cross the desert after nightfall and lose them in the city."

Accacia nodded with her eyes closed and she sighed again. Even in sleep, she was the most sexually alluring creature he had ever seen. He forced himself to steady his emotions for fear he would frighten her with the intensity of his feelings. She belonged to him now, and he treasured her like a priceless gem. He stared at the contours of her perfect face, counted the eyelashes of her eyes, and felt the curve of her wet lips with his finger, longing to kiss her the same way he had before they escaped the Vast. Unable to fight the urge in his soul a moment longer, he grabbed her face and kissed her deeply, parting her lips with his own and breathing into her mouth. He leaned over her, felt the small of her back with his hand and pulled her closer to him as he continued his embrace. Her lips returned his affection and she gripped his shoulder with her free hand, pulling him closer. He was losing control. His hand glided up her shirt towards her exquisite breasts, which he had seen twice, but never had the honor of touching. Suddenly, she ended their kiss and pulled away.

She sat up and crossed her arms over her chest, looking away from him. She gazed at the surrounding trees in the glade and counted the number of fallen leaves covering the ground. She rubbed her arms with her hands, trying to dispel the cold of the evening air, and immediately missed the warmth of Aleco's embrace. She hated what she was about to do.

Aleco waited for her to speak, but when no words were forthcoming, he broke the silence. "What is it, Accacia?" he asked. He touched her on the shoulder, silently begging her to return to his arms. He was clueless to what had caused her sudden departure. He wondered if his venture underneath her shirt was unwelcome and had offended her. It wasn't his intent to disrespect her; he assumed she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

Accacia rose to her feet and Aleco's hand slipped from her shoulder.

"Accacia?" he repeated, as he stood up. He could only guess how frightened she felt. He knew the emotions of the past few days were coursing through her for the first time. She had left the captivity of one man to be caged by another, then the man she loved was almost executed. It would take time to deal with it all. He reached out to her, but she stepped away from him.

"We need to discuss something before we continue," she said to the ground. Accacia hated herself for doing this, but she knew it had to be done. She couldn't continue this relationship when she constantly compared him to Drake. Aleco had broken her trust when he physically abused her, in addition to the hurtful words he said. She couldn't let him love her, and couldn't possibly love him in return. Accacia was glad they had both survived; however, she hadn't foreseen this problem.

Aleco felt his heartbeat quicken. Why couldn't he hold her during this discussion?

"I'm listening," he said.

"I want this relationship between us to end." She sighed. She shifted her weight and looked at the tip of her boots, wondering what he was feeling as she spoke. She knew Aleco had already been hurt, and she didn't want to damage him even more. "I want to return to our previous arrangement."

He swallowed the lump in his throat. His head was spinning in pain and confusion. Aleco didn't understand what was happening. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"The romantic aspect of our relationship is over. We are friends, nothing more." She saw his body flinch at her words from the corner of her eye. He looked like he had been shoved from behind. She still didn't look at him, unable to meet his gaze.

Aleco heard his heart pound in his ears and felt the blood course through his veins like a pressured hose. He sensed his heart shatter, the shards of it flung throughout his body, piercing every muscle and tendon in his chest cavity. Pain grabbed his heart like a clenched fist and squeezed hard, stopping the expansion of his lungs and wrestling the breath from his esophagus. He was being stabbed by the Kadnit Knife again. The betrayal of her words surpassed the actual trauma. Confusion flooded his mind at her sudden coldness. He didn't understand what had caused her to do this. "Why?"

She said nothing for a moment. Her fingers ran through the silk strands of her hair then rested on her throat. "I—I just don't want that kind of relationship with you." The pain in Aleco's voice broke her heart. She knew she had to be clear and concise about her wishes if she wanted Aleco to respect them. She may not trust him, but she knew he would never take her against her will, at least she hoped not.

"Then why did you kiss me?" Aleco fought back the tears behind his eyes, tears he hadn't let himself have since his mother died right before his eyes. Somehow this hurt even more. He hadn't known Accacia for a long period of time, technically, they were still strangers, but they had experienced so much together. Aleco felt a connection to her he hadn't felt with any other person. He was certain she felt it as well. Aleco felt like an idiot for letting his emotions become so intense in front of her and wished he could hide his damaged heart better.

She clutched her hands together and stared at her intertwined fingers. "I don't know," she said. "It just happened."

Aleco's mind raced over the past two days. He remembered how she pulled away from his initial kiss but returned his embrace when he was being dragged away to be executed. Then, she kissed him passionately before Devry came to their cell that night. The reason for her sudden affection dawned on him. "You thought I was as good as dead anyway," he said to himself more than her. "You never had feelings for me. It was just your pity that drove your kiss."

She finally looked at him. Accacia knew he would figure it out eventually, but she hoped he wouldn't be so upset by the revelation. It was obvious how much she had hurt him.

Anger coursed through his body at the rejection of his affections, a tragic end to the blissful feeling. He saw the pity in her eyes and that only fueled his internal rage at his own idiocy. He reminisced about their physical exchange and remembered the taste of her lips. The quiet moans of pleasure that escaped her mouth when she ran her hands through his hair; no one could be that convincing. "You're lying," he said as hope returned to his heart. "You enjoyed it as much as I did. What is the real reason? After everything I've done for you, I deserve your honesty." He clenched his fists as he stared her down.

Accacia immediately felt frightened at the turn of events. She expected his anger and hostility, but it didn't diffuse her uneasiness. What she feared had come to pass, his body shook with rage at her betrayal. Accacia didn't know how badly he would hurt her this time, and prayed it would be over soon.

As he stepped towards her, Aleco saw her body flinch and she protected her head with her arms, preparing for the oncoming attack. He stopped in his tracks and saw the fear etched into her face. He understood why she rejected his love. "I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered. "I never will again, Accacia." He pulled her arms down and looked her in the eyes. "I promise."

"Please don't touch me," she whispered. He looked too similar to Drake when he was angry. She shook with fear as the trauma he inflicted upon her flooded back. Just the tone of his furious voice was enough to make her cry.

Aleco's eyes watered at the command. Their relationship had changed in such a short amount of time. He released his hold and stepped back with his hands in the air. "After everything that has happened, how can you not trust me?" Now he knew the cause of denial. She did enjoy his affection and the closeness they shared, but she feared him because of his mistake. He assumed she would forgive him, but it was obvious she hadn't.

"I appreciate everything you have done for me, Aleco, I do. I know you are a good man with a noble heart, but I can't trust you," she said. Her self-hatred increased with every word. She didn't expect him to understand her fear of him. She knew if she confessed her comparison to his twin, he would be insane with rage, insulted by the similarity. "I'm sorry."

Aleco's heart dropped to his stomach. He had suffered a painful beating to spare her then secured her release and helped her escape. He even chose to embrace death rather than return her to Drake, but she couldn't let this go? Even after all of that? Aleco felt the pain radiate from his body. The only reason he had attacked her was because she violated his privacy, reliving his most private and painful memories. She had no right to violate him in such a way. He knew his reaction was wrong, but he felt like he was taking all the blame for the incident. It never would have happened if she stifled her curiosity. "I can't believe this," he said. "I messed up, Accacia. I know I did. I let my anger get to me, I admit that, but your actions were just as unforgivable as mine. You invaded my personal thoughts against my consent. Then you convinced me you cared for me, but you were just pretending because you thought I was going to die. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?" he asked. "If I can forgive you for that then surely you can forgive me for this, Accacia."

Accacia turned away as if slapped. Aleco bore his heated gaze onto her face, and she could feel the flames of anger burn through her skin. She knew what she did was wrong but the actions weren't equal in her eyes. She would never forget the way Aleco gripped her arms to her side, bruising her skin with his strength, and the way he glared at her in anger. It was too similar to the night Drake stole her virtue, how he pinned her weak arms to her side and raped her. In both situations, she was helpless to the abuse, unable to get away. How could she ever be with a man who brought her so much pain?

Aleco dropped to one knee. "Accacia, I am very sorry about what I did to you. It won't happen again. Please take my word for it," he begged. "Trust me, Accacia. I would gladly give my life to protect you. Damn, you must know how I feel about you."

Accacia said nothing as she stared at him. She wanted to believe him, but knew she couldn't. He may be sweet and tender in the best of times, but what about the worst? There was nothing he could say to convince her otherwise. Yes, she felt safe with him against other foes, but she didn't feel safe with him against himself. She wanted to get away from the traumatic life she had before, but she never could if she was constantly reminded of it.

"Accacia let me in. I won't hurt you," he said. "You obviously feel something for me."

"I'm sorry, Aleco."

"Please," he begged. She could see the tint of red around his eyes. She hated hurting him like this.

"No," she said. "When I look at you, I see him."

Aleco dropped his gaze to the forest floor. He sat in silence as he let the finality of the conversation come to an end. He tried to find something, anything, he could say to change her mind, but could think of nothing he hadn't already said. He didn't want to lose her, but he knew he already had.

He rose to a stance and walked away into the trees, disappearing from her view. He left his pack at the campsite so she knew he intended to return. She looked up into the sky and watched the stars shine brighter at the sun's departure. She wrapped herself tightly within her own arms and hoped she hadn't wounded Aleco's pride too badly. She reflected on the past two days and the tenderness he showed her. She assumed his intentions were purely physical but the gentleness he showed her made her wonder if there was something more. Accacia didn't know what to think.

Aleco returned from the forest an hour later. He shouldered his pack and hid the remains of their campsite then tightened the strings of his boots before concealing his face in the hood of his cloak.

"Let's go," he ordered. The coarseness of his voice had returned along with a façade of indifference.

"Aleco—"

"Save it, Accacia," he silenced her. "One more thing before we never speak of this again," he said as he stopped her. "I am nothing like Drake. I'm not him. So stop looking at me like I am."

Morkarh

21

They passed through the desert in the night. The strong wind blew against them and slowed their progression to the city. Accacia pulled the Serpentine Guild hood further down her face to protect her eyes from the grains of sands that were carried in the current. The flecks of dirt blurred her eyesight and she wiped them away as she stumbled through the never-ending hills of sand. If Aleco was experiencing the same frustration, he didn't voice it. He said nothing to her as they moved forward. He didn't look to verify she was still behind him, acting as if she wasn't even there.

They approached Morkarh from its front gate and Accacia stared at the stone walls, fascinated by the height and depth of the gray slabs that protected the immaculate city. Nature took advantage of Accacia's glimpse, and she groaned in frustration as the sand returned to her watering eyes. Through her squinted gaze, she could see the Prisoner's Circle towering over the wall. Tremors ran through her body at the remembrance of her captivity. Aleco rescued her from that awful place, but there she was yet again.

Aleco pulled her behind a covering of rocks before they were within sight of the gate. He finally addressed her but kept his eyes glued to the entrance. "You will enter alone, Accacia," he said. "I'm not going with you."

"What?" she asked incredulously. "Why aren't you coming?"

"I can't," he growled. "They will spot me in a second. I could go through the back gate and risk it, but I can't afford to. If I don't return then you will have no one to escort you."

"Won't they recognize me?"

"No," he said. "If you keep your hood up, it won't be a problem."

She leaned against the rock and clutched herself with her arms. The boulder was giving a grateful respite from the gusting wind, and she didn't want to move from the sanctuary. The idea of going into the city alone, searching for a woman she didn't know, was frightening. Accacia didn't want to do this.

Aleco recognized her fear. "If you don't return, I'll come for you."

Accacia rubbed her shoulders through the fabric of the thin cloak, the friction of her movement bringing some heat to the area.

"Accacia, you don't have to do this," he said. "I am the one who needs to make the payment."

"No," she said. "This is payment for both our lives. Of course, I will do it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay. When the sun rises, you will go into the city and continue to the mineral district, which is in the back, right corner. At the tavern, ask for Lydia. The bartender will point you in the right direction," he said as he withdrew the coins from his pack. He picked five gold pieces and handed them to Accacia. "And buy a warm jacket. You are going to need it."

She shoved the money back. "I don't want your money."

"You can pay me back," he said.

"I already owe you too much."

Aleco sighed. "Then what's a little more?"

Accacia continued to rub her arms but said nothing.

"Accacia, stop this now," he snapped. "You will freeze on our return to the old man. Believe me, you need a damn jacket." He shoved the coins back into her hand. She didn't argue and took the coins. She didn't want their confrontation to escalate. They were already on shaky terms as it was. "Get some sleep," he said. "I'll wake you at sunrise."

Aleco's voice stirred her from sleep. His hoarse voice barked into her ear and dragged her painfully away from her dreams. It was very different from the way he woke her up the day before. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Are you sure you can do this?"

"Yes," she said as she ran her hands through her hair. Aleco watched her fingers glide through her strands, and noted its common occurrence before a crucial moment. He knew it was a habit stimulated by fear and anxiety.

"Then do it," he said. "I will wait for you here."

She discarded the guildsmen cloak and wore her thin, brown cape. As she approached the city, the heavy wooden door swung open for the merchants gathered outside the gate and allowed them to enter. Accacia huddled near a group of farmers who had brought their goods to market and crept behind them as they passed through the gateway. None of the guards noticed Accacia as she walked through, but they didn't have the opportunity to study her since so many bodies were entering at the same time. Accacia assumed they weren't looking for her anyway. Why would she return to the city she had initially fled from? Getting out of the city would be the difficult part. She walked to the far back corner of the city, the mineral district, and entered the local tavern.

The bartender was quite taken with Accacia and enjoyed the business her presence was bringing to the tavern. Men slouched in the corner and stared at Accacia with interest as she questioned the bartender of the whereabouts of Lydia. Even though their glasses were already full, the men approached the bench and ordered another pint of ale just to get a better look at her. Accacia was completely oblivious to the commotion she was causing and continued to speak with the friendly tavern keeper. He smiled at her and asked her to lower her hood as payment, knowing the attention it would bring to his establishment. She did as he asked, forgetting Aleco's earlier command. His eyes widened with surprise at her exquisite features. The tavern keeper immediately recognized her face, but couldn't recall where he had seen her.

"Thank you for your assistance," she said with a smile. She left the tavern and entered the streets of the mineral district. As she strolled down the sandy streets, it became evident why the district was granted its reputable title. The shops along the streets all sold goods produced from minerals, including beautiful pottery, exquisite frames of looking glass, and beautiful quartz necklaces. Accacia looked at the products with interest, especially the jewelry, which she loved but was too embarrassed to admit. Lord Drake had gifted her many jewels, but she attested that she loathed them. She refused to wear them, but in truth, she adored them and wore the beautiful gems when she was alone. She sat at her vanity and watched the diamonds catch the light of the glass mirror, marveling at their beauty, but tucked them away when the duke returned. She had no quarrels with the jewelry; just the man who had given them to her.

In the center of the district, she noticed a commotion of people working. Some were carrying heavy wheelbarrows across the street and dumping rocks and sand into a growing pile of rubble. Others were placing raw minerals into a large cart, which were hooked up to four dray horses, who flicked their tails with impatience, tired of standing still. Accacia was unsure what they were working around, it was difficult to see at a distance, and she didn't want to risk being spotted with any further exploration. She would ask Aleco when she returned.

She found Lydia's home quickly. Lydia lived in a small wooden home that leaned slightly to one side, and Accacia wondered just how safe the abode was. She spotted two children playing in the sand directly in front of the house, throwing dust into each other's faces then laughing when it flew into the other's mouth. Lydia opened the front door and smiled at the children fondly, but her grin dropped when she realized how filthy they were. Her eyes widened with anger at the sight of them. The children's laughter died instantly and was replaced by looks of fear as Lydia stared them down. Accacia laughed at the exchange and approached the family. "Hello." She smiled.

Lydia looked up from the children. "How may I help you?" she asked harshly. Her face was still set in a scowl. The tone in her voice made Accacia wonder if Lydia thought she was filthy too. Lydia gripped her children by the shoulders and told them to go inside. The boy and girl stared at Accacia in wonder. When Accacia waved to them, they giggled and dashed into the house.

"Your children are beautiful," she said.

"What do you want?"

Accacia was taken aback by her hostility. She wasn't accustomed to this culture, or any culture for that matter, but the anger in her voice startled her. Accacia didn't know what offense she had committed, but whatever it was, she wished she hadn't. "I have something to give you," Accacia said as she fetched the bag of coins from her pack. "This is payment to Devry for services rendered. He instructed me to give it to you."

Lydia took the bag and counted the coins. Her eyes widened in surprise at the amount.

"Are you his wife?" Accacia asked bluntly.

The look of anger on Lydia's face made her regret her question. She thought she was getting the culture down, but apparently that wasn't so. Lydia stared at her in silence, and Accacia knew the sneer on her face was the only answer she was going to receive.

"I apologize for my rudeness," Accacia said. "I'll leave now."

"I'm his sister," she said.

Accacia smiled at the unexpected elaboration.

"Thank you for bringing this," Lydia continued. "We are running low on water."

"You're very welcome," she said politely.

Accacia waited for Lydia to say more, but Lydia only turned away and walked into the house. Accacia assumed her actions meant the meeting was over. Lydia turned back to Accacia. "Well," she said impatiently, "are you coming?"

This was as close to a proper invitation she was going to receive, she assumed. Lydia's contradictory behavior was confusing Accacia, but she decided not to dwell on it. It would only confuse her even more. She walked through the open door into the humble home. The entryway was small and comprised both the kitchen and the sitting room. Patches of dirt sprinkled the floor, and the enclosure contained the scent of lingering dust as if someone had just swept a filthy carpet. Accacia kept a stoic countenance as she entered the area. She didn't want to offend Lydia for her poor living accommodations. Moth eaten chairs were lined up in the sitting room along with a rug on the floor that also contained tears and holes. Everything was the same color: red. But Accacia assumed that wasn't always the case. The red sand had stained the house with its hue. Even the children were covered with the red grains of dirt. They sat before the fire and pulled the sand from their hair. Accacia wondered where their father was and hoped he wasn't working at the site she had passed. It looked like backbreaking work. Lydia ran a rag through the children's filthy hair and across their skin to clean the grime from their bodies. "Can't spare the water," she explained as she continued to scrape the sand away from between their fingers.

Accacia nodded. "What are their names?" she asked as she smiled at the children. They both had prominent dimples in their cheeks when they grinned.

"This one is Vance," she said as she wiped the sand from his black locks. "And he is eight." She turned the towel to the younger girl with beautiful golden curls. "This is Sadie and she's six."

"Beautiful," Accacia whispered. She felt tears bubble below the surface of her eyes at the sight of them. She had seen only one other child in her existence, and because of her unfortunate situation, his life had been threatened. For Accacia, the sight of children was a rare occurrence. At Aleutian Keep, she was confined to the palace, mainly their bedchamber, and never saw kids during her imprisonment. In Orgoom Forest, none of the Naturalists had offspring, nor did Father Giloth, so she hadn't seen them at that time either. The idea of children was almost mythical to her. Her heart constricted as she gazed at their smiling faces.

Absentmindedly, Accacia placed her hands across her stomach and remembered the time she was with child. The pregnancy had been short, one that was both depressing and exciting, and had ended with a miscarriage. Initially, Accacia was repulsed by the child she carried, but after her stomach began to bulge, she grew excited at the life inside her. She picked out baby names and sang to her distended figure by the fire, glowing with joy at impending motherhood.

When Drake found out, he was more than displeased—he was angry. "I can't have an illegitimate child," he yelled. "He will not be recognized as an heir to the Aleutian throne by the council. And now is not the time for our nuptials."

"Then what are we supposed to do, Drake?" she asked. "Hide the child's existence?"

"Why haven't you been taking your herbs? Did you plan this?"

"No, of course not," she said. She ingested Hinue, the herbal concoction to prevent conception, every morning with breakfast. The duke watched her take it daily to ensure she followed the prescription. Accacia didn't know how he could accuse her of such deception. Even if he wanted her to carry his child, she would refuse to do it.

"Then the midwives will take care of it," he said.

"What do you mean?" she asked as her eyes widened in fear. "I'm not giving my child to someone else."

Drake looked at her. "We won't be giving it to anyone."

Accacia covered her slightly protruding stomach with both hands. Drake was an evil man, she knew this, but the meaning of his words was too horrifying, even coming from him. The duke left the room and returned with two of their skilled midwives, Lena and Livia.

"She is with child," the duke explained to them. The midwives smiled at Accacia and their eyes glanced down to her extended stomach. "You are to remove it without hurting her."

"No." Accacia stepped back from him. "I will never forgive you for this. I mean it, Drake."

He smiled at her. "How many times have I heard those words?" He turned to Lena. "Get the guards." Accacia stared at Drake from the other side of the room. Tears streamed down her face as she protected her abdomen with her hands. Drake met her gaze then looked down to the floor, unable to meet her pained look a moment longer. Lena returned a moment later with three large men. "Hold her down. Do whatever is necessary," he said.

Accacia ran to the corner. "Drake, please don't do this," she begged. "This is your baby, too. I'll do whatever you want. Please don't do this. Don't kill my son."

Drake ignored her. "Guards, seize her."

They grabbed her by the arms and dragged her across the room. "Wait," she cried. "Please, wait." Drake nodded for them to continue.

They carried her to the infirmary. She jerked her body away from their grasp, but their grip was too strong and she flailed helplessly in their hold. Her legs kicked out and hit their ankles, but that didn't stop their progression or even slow them down. She screamed as they carried her down the hall, shouting Drake's name, her loud sobs blending with her cries. The midwives turned away from the painful sight and listened to her screams recede down the hallway. They both adored Accacia.

The Lord Aleutian bore his intimidating gaze on them. "I want no illness to befall her. If she is injured or killed, I will have both your heads." The midwives nodded. Their hands shook slightly at his threat—they knew he meant it. "Now go."

Accacia still felt the medication inside her when she woke, lingering behind her eyes, trying to lull her back to sleep. She reached to her stomach and felt the absence of the bulge, and realized her stomach was as flat as it had been before. She rolled onto her side and shook with sobs at the loss. Her memory was shattered by the young boy's voice.

"Who is that, Lydia?" He pointed at Accacia from his seat before the fireplace, just as fascinated by her as she was of him.

"What is your name?" Lydia asked.

Accacia's eyes were glued to Vance's face. "My name is Accacia. It is very nice to meet both of you." She smiled.

Vance walked over to her and grabbed her hand. "Are you staying?"

The girl walked over as well and wrapped her arms around her leg. "Please stay. We never have anyone to play with."

Accacia knelt down and wrapped her arms around them both. "I will visit for a little while but I need to be going soon."

Their crestfallen faces shattered her heart. She had just met these children and she already loved them. Her mind wandered to the thoughts of her own child and how much she loved him, even though he had never been born. Somehow she knew he would have been a boy.

"I think it would be best if you left soon," Lydia said. "I recognize your face. Your portrait is hung within the city and the reward for your return is hefty." Accacia hadn't noticed the pictures within the town. Her concentration had been focused on finding Lydia and returning as soon as possible. "I know the duke," she continued. "He is a man that always gets what he wants."

Accacia stood up and faced Lydia. "How do you know him?" she asked fearfully.

"I used to work for his family." She sighed. "His mother rescued me from the life I was living. I worked as a prostitute at the brothel in Letumian, and she recruited me as a maid in the staff. A nicer woman I have never met."

Accacia's eyes widened at the revelation. She had never seen Lydia in the palace walls, and she wondered how this story could be true. "When did you leave? How did you escape?"

Lydia sighed. "When the Lord and Lady were murdered by their disturbed son, Drake dismissed every palace worker and refilled the positions with new people. He even terminated the guards and replaced them with new bodies," she said as she rested her hands on her hips. "He obviously wanted a fresh start to his regime."

"Who killed them?" Accacia asked.

"The older son," she said. "Aleco was his name."

"What happened to him?"

"Killed, from what I heard," she said. "Personally, I think death was too good for him. His punishment should have been more severe."

Accacia looked down at the floor and pity for Aleco rose in her heart. "Are they certain he was responsible for their deaths? Drake has such a black heart. I find it hard to believe he wasn't involved."

"Well, I agree with that statement. Drake was always peculiar in his ways," she said. "I caught him holding a dagger to the throat of the other maids, more than once, as he ran his hand up their skirt, touching them against their will."

"Did the late duke approve of this?"

"Hardly," she said. "In fact, he never knew. Drake threatened to kill the maids if they squealed, so they kept the secret to themselves. Drake was a typical bully around the castle."

"What of Aleco?"

"He was quiet, kept to himself for the most part. He spent his time outside the palace walls, to get away from his brother, I think. He was more talkative when the Nature Priest would visit from his forest," she said. "They would spend the afternoon in the garden and the priest would instruct him in plant lore. Drake always gave him a hard time about that."

Accacia felt her heartbeat quicken in her chest. "Father Giloth?" she asked.

"Yes," she confirmed. "That was his name."

"He would travel from Orgoom Forest often?"

"Of course," she said. "He came to visit his brother."

"Who was his brother?"

"The duke," she said.

Now Accacia understood the connection between the two men. The abrasive personality Aleco possessed hardly complemented Father Giloth's serenity, yet they were very close, even closer than she was to Father Giloth. This familial tie explained it. He was Aleco's uncle.

"You should move on, Accacia," Lydia said. "I can't afford to be interrogated, and the less I know about you, the better. I hate to lie."

Accacia nodded her understanding. Lydia wasn't just looking after herself, but the two children in her care, and that instilled urgency within her. "I'll leave now."

"Good," she said.

Accacia turned to the two children, still at her feet. She hugged them both and kissed each one on the brow. "I hope I will see you again someday," she whispered.

She turned towards the door and waved. Lydia nodded her goodbye and the children waved in return. Accacia closed the door behind her and pulled the hood of her cloak up, concealing her face in shadow as she marched away from the house. She turned to a man in front of his home and asked for the location of the back gate. He pointed her in the right direction and she set off. Once he was out of sight, she turned down a different alley and headed towards the north gate. She hoped her question would throw the guards off her scent, away from Lydia's home, and towards the back gate, the opposite way she traveled.

Accacia strode through the dirt streets of the city, passed open shops and tables laden with goods for sale. Accacia ignored their hackles and continued towards the front of the city. She passed a large congregation of guards standing in a formation in the middle of the road. The elite guard was pairing watchmen together and sending them into different districts of the city. Paranoia flooded Accacia and she wondered if they were looking for her. Fear gripped her chest and she dashed through the city. When she reached the front gate, there were dozens of guards, a lot more than when she had entered. Carts lined the street as they prepared to exit the city. One of the town's guards was inspecting each cart, checking for any stowaways, Accacia assumed. She hugged the wall and her brain searched for an exit route.

She spotted the notice on the wall next to her. It was a drawing depicting her features, and she was horrified to see how detailed it was. It captured her countenance perfectly. Accacia feared she would never escape the city. Her thoughts turned to Aleco and his promise to come to her aid if she failed to return. That was the last thing she wanted.

She crept along the line of carts and crawled underneath one that had already been inspected. She grabbed onto the planks underneath it and hoisted herself upwards, hiding her body from view. After a few minutes, her arms began to burn with the exertion of clinging to the planks, but she forced herself to keep her hold. She waited for the cart to move, and after what seemed like an eternity, the cart rolled towards the gate.

Accacia hugged the bottom of the cart as close as possible, to minimize her dangling figure from the back of the wagon. She saw the cart pass the wooden doors of the gate and knew they were traveling across the sandy desert. Accacia fought the pain in her arms but forced her hands to retain their hold. She would wait until they were far enough away before dropping her body to the ground.

When Accacia couldn't keep her hold any longer, she let go and felt her body fall to the ground. The bottom of the cart rolled past her. She sat up and glanced behind her and saw the wagon continue on its way. She looked around the desert and saw the familiar jagged rocks where she had left Aleco. She got up and jogged to the location.

"What took you so long?" he snarled. "I was about to go after you and drag you out by the hair."

Accacia drank from her waterskin with her eyes closed.

"Where did you come from anyway?" he asked.

Accacia capped her bottle and replaced it within the pack. "I had to hide in a wagon. Guards were searching for me everywhere and I couldn't simply walk out the gate," she said with heaving breaths. "I didn't have a choice."

She ran her hands up her arms and massaged the tension from her biceps. She knew how sore they would be.

"I'm impressed. I guess you aren't that helpless," he said. "How did they know you were in the city?"

"I have no idea."

"Did you keep your hood up like I told you to?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, but then she remembered she lowered it at the barkeeper's request. "Actually, I did lower it but it was only for a moment.

Aleco sighed. She knew how angry he was, and waited for him to berate her. "We need to move," he said through his teeth. "The guild will arrive soon and they will know we were here." He grabbed his pack and dragged her to her feet. "We won't stop for several days. I don't care how tired you are, you better keep up." He looked at her again and realized she had failed to do what he asked. "Where is your cloak?"

Accacia had completely forgotten about buying it, but she probably wouldn't have bought it anyway even if she did remember. Her silence answered his question.

"Come on," he growled. "Let's go."

Aleutian Keep

22

"Good evening, Councilman," the duke said. "Please make yourself comfortable. I know you have traveled far to see me."

Rancar sat in the massive armchair facing his desk. He said nothing as he stared at the duke. Drake poured a glass of his renowned wine and handed it to his guest. Rancar took the glass with shaky hands. He despised himself for making this decision, but he would be an idiot if he made any other. He took a drink of the wine and sighed. It was delicious. Drake smiled his approval.

Drake finished his own cup before speaking. "I appreciate all the assistance you gave at the council meeting. Your cooperation was necessary."

"I wasn't given much choice," he whispered.

"No, I suppose not," he said.

"Where are they?" Rancar asked. "If they truly exist, that is."

Drake looked at him. "Well, if they aren't here and don't exist," he said as he poured himself another glass, "you gambled on a bet you can't afford."

"Decisions by the council can always be reversed," he threatened.

Drake smiled. "Don't worry, Rancar," he said. "They exist. I have them here with me."

Rancar waited for the duke to reveal them.

"I insisted you come to me because of their value. I would never travel across the Continent with such a valuable gift," he said. "I wouldn't risk the loss."

Rancar nodded. "How do I know if they work? What if you betray us?"

Drake sipped his wine. "Good point," he said. The duke finished his wine, pulled a dagger from his drawer and held it up to the councilmen. "You recognize this, yes?"

Rancar's shoulders stiffened and his brow furrowed with nervousness. The duke's unpredictable behavior was known throughout the land. His actions could never be foretold.

"A Kadnit Knife," he answered.

"So you understand the danger of such a blade?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Drake stabbed himself in the gut. He moaned with anguish as he pulled the dagger from his abdomen and dropped the knife on his desk. The blade gleamed red with his blood. Rancar's eyes widened as he yelled in fright. He rose from his chair and stepped back.

"M'lord," he cried. "Shall I get help?"

"Calm down, Rancar," he said through heavy breaths. "Sit down."

Rancar took his seat. Drake withdrew a small stone from his pocket and held it within his palm, allowing the councilman to see the sparkling gem. Drake closed his eyes and concentrated. A quiet hum escaped his throat, almost inaudible to Rancar. A light sped across the stone as the duke continued to hum, and Rancar spotted the flash of a blue iris on the surface. The duke sighed with pleasure as the gem glowed brighter, illuminating the room with a cerulean sheen.

Drake opened his eyes and dropped the stone upon the desk. He was smiling as he rose from his seat and opened the buttons of his tunic, revealing his unscathed torso. Rancar saw no indication of any trauma; it was as if nothing had happened. "Do you believe me now?" he asked.

Rancar nodded but said nothing. The duke had spoken the truth; he really was immortal—and now Rancar would be as well.

Drake withdrew a small pouch from his desk and tossed it to Rancar. He caught the sack with his hands and opened the drawstring. Four identical stones lay at the bottom of the bag, each the color of midnight blue. Rancar grabbed one of the gems and the feeling of utter despair washed over him, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. The stones functioned on a form of evil magic, he knew that, but he couldn't deny his desire to live forever. Against his better judgment, he placed the sack in his pocket, hiding the fortune from view.

"You are never to speak of this to anyone," the duke said. "No one can know of its existence. If you ever reveal the truth, they will never stop hunting you."

Rancar nodded. He was still speechless by the course of events. He could never die—ever. Men fear mortality above all things, the inevitable destiny that came for them all eventually. There was no denying the promise of the afterlife, but he couldn't part with this mortal one. He loved it too much. "Thank you, m'lord," he said.

The duke nodded. "Can I count on your continued service?" he asked. "Is the entire council at my disposal?"

"Of course," he answered. The duke bequeathed him a gift more valuable than any coin, gold, or weapon ever conceived. He would perform any task the duke asked of him, pass any law that he wished—he would even crown him king.

"I thought so." He smiled. "Now that I have the territory of Paso Robles, I wish to be crowned the Sole Sovereign and King of the Unified Continent. All the armies will be under my command—my authority will be absolute."

Rancar watched the greed flash in Drake's eyes, the look of consummate determination. The councilman knew the duke's reign would be a terrible one, but he didn't care. He had what he wanted. "As the lead councilman, I guarantee the crown is yours. We will appoint you at the next council meeting," he said. "You have my word and my allegiance, m'lord."

"Good," he said. "Now you may go."

"Thank you, sire."

The duke dismissed him with a flick of his wrist.

After Rancar left, the chamberlain entered the study with a pile of parchment sheets under his arm. They were the written trade agreements between the two lands, Letumian and Paso Robles, which were now unified under one leader—the duke.

Aldo had been the chamberlain of the palace for many years. He had watched the duke grow from a small child, through adolescence, and into the cruel man he had become. When the Lord and Lady perished, Aldo wasn't dismissed like the rest of the staff, and he knew it was for only one reason: his experience. Aldo understood the position better than anyone besides the late duke himself, and he knew Drake needed that expertise at his beck and call.

The chamberlain loathed the duke, but obeyed his command so he could keep his head. Aldo knew the duke's older brother, Aleco, wasn't responsible for the death of the Lord and Lady Aleutian, but being the coward that he was, he never voiced the truth. Aleco had been with Aldo in the weapons room when the horrific event occurred. A servant came to Aleco and informed him that Drake wanted to see him in the master bedroom. When he arrived, Drake was nowhere to be seen, and Aleco saw only the bloody bodies of his parents. No one else saw the truth of the situation, that Drake, not Aleco, murdered his parents in cold blood. Because of his lack of courage, Aleco had suffered the consequences. He had been killed. Even after all these years, Aldo still mourned the loss.

Aldo placed the updated agreement on the writing desk and handed the quill to the duke. "As you requested, sire," he announced. "The nullified trade agreement is ready for your signature."

The duke waved the pen away. "It needs no signature," he said. "All trade agreements are null. I have different plans for the realm."

The chamberlain retained his stoic expression. He edited these agreements too many times to recall and spent weeks perfecting the documents. He controlled the muscles in his face and hid his displeasure. He had become proficient in this ability through years of practice. "Very well," he said as he retrieved the documents from the wooden surface. "What are my instructions?"

"You have none," he said. He placed his dirty boots upon the desk and faced the fire. "The realm will be the capital of forced servitude. The workers will be required to produce goods for the entire Continent and we will thrive on their production—for a heavy price, of course."

"The laws of the council prohibit slavery," Aldo reminded him.

"For now."

The chamberlain's heart pounded in his chest. Aldo didn't understand how the duke would manage such an undertaking but chose not to dwell on it. The less he knew, the better. He couldn't sleep as it was. The duke rested his chin on his hand and concentrated on the dancing flames, his thoughts wondering to Accacia. "Any news?" the duke asked without glancing at him. His eyes were glued to the black hearth.

Aldo knew he was referring to his beloved courtesan, Accacia. No details had emerged of her whereabouts, and the chamberlain was silently thankful for the lack of information. She deserved to be free of his cruelty.

Years ago, the duke instructed him to fetch the scouting reports from the cavalry, but when Aldo went to retrieve the documents they were gone. He couldn't remember where he placed them or if someone had taken the parchment sheets. The chamberlain searched for the report for nearly an hour before the duke sent a guardsman to retrieve him. When he was escorted to his private quarters, he arrived empty-handed.

Accacia sat beside the fire reading a book from the duke's glorified library and smiled at him when he entered. The duke stared at him from his desk. "Well?" he sneered. "Where are they?"

Accacia looked at the chamberlain and spotted the sweat drip from his brow. She saw the fear in his eyes and realized he didn't have whatever Drake sought. Aldo remained mute as he searched for an answer that would spare his life.

"Do you have my scouting reports or not?" he pressed. He pulled his sword from his scabbard and placed the blade across his desk, his silent promise of retribution.

"M'lord—"

"Darling," Accacia interrupted. "I am afraid I took your scouting reports." She rose from the sofa and approached the duke.

Aldo's eyes widened.

"Why?" Drake hissed.

He stared at her with a look of fury. The chamberlain hated to be the recipient of that glare and he knew Accacia saw it on a regular basis. She sat on his lap and ran her fingers through his hair. "I fed them into the fire," she said. "I mistook them for old parchment. I'm so sorry. It was an accident."

Drake stared at her for a moment. "You accidently threw them into the fire? You expect me to believe that horseshit?" he yelled. He slapped her hard across the face and shoved her to the ground. "I told you not to touch anything. You deliberately disobeyed me."

"I'm sorry, m'lord," she said as she covered her red cheek with her palm.

He slapped her again as hard as he could. The sound resonated like the crack of a whip. She whimpered at the impact and fell to the floor. The chamberlain looked away, unable to watch her take the blame for his stupidity. He knew why she had done it. The duke would never kill Accacia, but he had no such inhibitions with Aldo. She just saved his life.

The duke seized her by the hair and pulled her across the wooden floor. She cried as he tugged at her scalp. He grabbed her face and slammed it into the floor. She remained still, crying to herself. "I commanded you to never make that infuriating noise," he said as he kicked her ribs. "Stop it now."

She feared he would kick her again so she forced the tears to halt. She was silent. The duke ceased his attack on Accacia and turned to his chamberlain. "I suggest you write another report," he threatened. "And make sure it isn't misplaced this time."

Aldo nodded. He glanced at Accacia before he left and saw the pool of blood from her broken noise. "Would you like me to retrieve the midwives for Miss Accacia?" he asked. It was his attempt to help her.

The duke glared at him. "No, she'll be fine," he said. "She has survived worse."

The sound of the crackling flames brought the chamberlain back to the present. Drake stared at Aldo and waited for him to answer his question. He didn't expect any news to be forthcoming, but he asked anyway. "No, m'lord," Aldo answered.

Drake nodded, anticipating that answer. "If any news of her whereabouts comes forth, any news, notify me immediately," he said.

"Of course, sire."

"I will find her eventually," he said. "I just wish eventually was now."

Aldo said nothing, unsure of what to say. The grimace of pain on the duke's face betrayed the depth of his emotions; he missed her dearly. If Accacia was retrieved, Aldo hoped the duke would treat her better. Even if Accacia hadn't spared his life all those years ago, he would still harbor a great affection for the girl. Everyone in the palace adored her. They all prayed she would never return.

Roslyn Thoroughfare

23

Aleco and Accacia traveled across the desert towards the south of the Continent. By the time the stars appeared in the sky, they had crossed the desert and entered the Roslyn Thoroughfare, which stretched between Roslyn and Morkarh, acting as a divided road to the southern provinces.

Aleco enjoyed the woodlands of the thoroughfare because of its unlimited hidden dwellings and frolicking game. He hadn't eaten a meal in many days, just nibbled on a few seeds and chunks of dried fruit Accacia had in her pack. The hunger was gnawing at him so deeply, it controlled his every thought. He led Accacia into the thickened populace of trees and found a familiar den he used during his travels. They crawled through a tunnel within a formation of rocks until they came to the other side. It opened to a small meadow surrounded by the height of the boulders. It was the safest place they were going to find. He instructed Accacia to remain behind while he hunted in the forest.

When he returned, Accacia had already constructed a fire and she sat beside it, letting the warmth of the flames dispel the chill of the nighttime air. If she would have bought the cloak like he instructed her to, she wouldn't feel so numb. He had no sympathy for her.

He brought two conies and a squirrel to the campsite and skinned the carcasses. Accacia looked away in disgust at the sight. The death of the animals was murder in her eyes. He returned with so much game, she assumed some of it was for her. She sighed in annoyance. "I don't eat meat, Aleco," she reminded him.

"I know," he said as he continued to skin the animals. He didn't look at her across the fire.

"Then why did you bring so much?"

"I'm hungry," he snarled. "What I don't eat now, I'll eat later."

Accacia said nothing. She felt her own hunger grow as she pondered what she would eat for dinner. It was too dark to search for anything in the woods. She would have to eat the meat or starve. It wasn't a difficult choice; she would rather die of hunger.

Aleco placed the skinned carcasses on a stick over the fire and rotated the branch in the flames, allowing the heat to thoroughly cook the meat to the bone. The flesh sizzled in the fire and juice dripped from the meat as the outside charred from the flames. Aleco finally looked at Accacia as she watched his ministrations. When the meat was fully cooked, he withdrew his dinner from the fire and placed it on his handkerchief. He reached into his pack and withdrew a sack of wild berries he found in the forest, and another small bag of assorted woodland nuts he knew to be edible. He tossed them to Accacia.

She looked at the bags quizzically. She smiled as she saw the contents of the sack and immediately began to consume the dinner he brought for her. "Thank you," she whispered.

She was touched by his actions. The darkness must have made it difficult to locate anything for her to eat, but he did it anyway because he respected her eating choices, even though he didn't agree with them.

"It went well?" he asked over the popping sounds of the flames.

"Yes."

"Is there anything worth mentioning?"

Accacia thought back to the information Lydia revealed about the connection between Aleco and Father Giloth, but decided to hold back the revelation. Last time she discovered the events of his past, he lashed out in anger and betrayed her trust. It was better not to say anything. "Lydia has two children," she said.

"How is that worth mentioning?"

"Because they were absolutely beautiful." She smiled. "You would have adored them, Aleco."

"I doubt that," he spat. "I've never harbored affection for brats."

"They definitely are not brats," she said.

"Either way, I don't see the relevance."

Accacia sighed. "She isn't the mother."

"So?" Aleco said. "Why do I care about that? Why would anyone?"

"Well, why do you think Devry wanted the money to go to her?"

"I couldn't care less," he said. "That's his business."

Accacia threw a seed at him. "Obviously those children are his, you idiot."

Aleco shook his head. "And why is this is so obvious? It seems like a stretch to me."

"Lydia is his sister," she said.

"You know this how?" he asked. "Or is that obvious, too?"

Accacia threw another seed at him but missed. He laughed at her poor aim. "She told me so," she said as she threw another seed, which hit its mark.

"I think it is very unlikely," he reasoned. "Brothers are prohibited from procreation. I doubt Devry would risk his life fathering children."

"Why is having children prohibited?" she asked with interest.

"It dilutes your allegiance," he explained. "The Chief wants your sole support, which he can't have if you are giving it to others. The Brothers of the guild are your family."

"That's barbaric."

"I agree," he said.

"Can you marry?"

"What do you think?"

Accacia sighed. "Are you celibate?"

"Me? Or the guild?" he asked. "Because I am not a Brother of the guild, so don't include me in it."

"Fine," she said. "Are they celibate?"

"No," he said. "We have a very large brothel in the Vast. We passed it on our way to the prison."

Accacia remembered spotting the shop, along with the other stores they saw in the city. "Is its use common?" she asked.

"Very much so." He laughed.

"Did you—go there as well?"

Aleco looked at her. "Why are you interested, Accacia?"

She looked away and said nothing. It was an inappropriate question to ask, and she regretted invading his privacy. Besides, it was obvious he had. "Are the women slaves?"

Aleco turned his gaze away. "Yes," he muttered.

"That's barbaric," she repeated.

"I know it is," he said.

An awkward silence enveloped the night. Aleco reached over to put out the fire, but Accacia stopped him. "Can we leave it going?"

"No," he said. "I needed it to cook the meat, and now that I'm done, it needs to be put out. It's too risky."

Accacia removed her hands from his, and he drowned the flames in water. He placed a sheet over the dying fire to quench the rising smoke. The enclosure plunged into darkness. After a few moments, Accacia's eyes adjusted to the lack of light, and she looked over at Aleco. "What if he had the children before joining the guild?" she asked. "He sent them to his sister and sends money to support them. It makes sense."

Aleco lay down on the opposite side of the dead fire. "He did mention he had a wife who died years ago," he said. "Though, he didn't say how she passed away."

"Probably in childbirth," she reasoned.

"Maybe," he agreed. "Why do you care so much about this?"

She was quiet for a moment. "I couldn't imagine having children that I couldn't see," she said. "I couldn't handle it."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, Devry voluntarily joined the guild," he said. "Therefore, he knew what would happen."

"Or maybe he was forced to," she said. "He had no other way to support them."

"Possibly," he agreed.

"I'm surprised so many join such a despicable organization, not just because it steals from good people or implores slaves, but because it strips away their basic freedoms, like the choice to marry or sire children," she said. "You were almost put to death because you wanted to leave the guild. I just don't understand what attracts so many members. They need to change their ways."

"Most men don't care, Accacia."

"But not all," she said.

Accacia lay down on the freezing ground and tightened her cloak about her body, a futile attempt to keep warm. Aleco was covered in his cloak and the thick hooded jacket he always wore to hide his face. He saw her shiver across the fire.

He wanted to encompass her within his arms, to keep her warm with his body heat, to breathe his hot breath into her lungs with his kiss, but he knew he couldn't; she didn't want him. The painful conversation still hung heavy in the air from the day before, and he knew she was thinking about it as well. Accacia had ripped his heart from his body and incinerated it in fire. He wasn't sure if he would ever grow a new one. He would give anything to be back into the blissful relationship they had for such a short time. Even though their time together was miniscule and the prospect of death was hanging over him, he still had never been happier. He wanted to invite her into his arms, but he didn't know if he could control himself from pressing his advantage. He was very attracted to her. Aleco saw her shiver again. He rose and walked toward her, then covered her with his warm cloak, which was blazing with his body heat.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"You're cold," he said.

"I don't want it," she said as she pulled it off.

"Take it," Aleco commanded her. "I don't need it. I have my other cloak."

"No."

Aleco sighed. "You won't sleep well if you are shivering the entire night. Then, you'll travel like a snail tomorrow because you'll be exhausted. You are doing us both a favor by taking it, Accacia."

"No, Aleco," she said firmly. "Thank you, but no." Accacia didn't want his aid in any form. She wanted to keep her distance from him, keeping him at bay. She had hurt him deeply, and she didn't want to encourage his feelings by accepting something that belonged to him. Accacia still thought of Drake when she looked at or spoke to Aleco, and she didn't want anything to do with him.

Aleco gave up and walked back to his side. He bottled his anger at her stubbornness. She could be so infuriating sometimes. "You are welcome to lay with me if you want," he offered.

Her only reply was the sound of her clattering teeth. Aleco waited until she was asleep before he surrounded her with the warm cloak, disregarding her earlier rejection of the jacket. Her shivers ended, replaced by pleasurable sighs, and she slept undisturbed for hours. Before the sun rose, Aleco retrieved his cloak, anticipating the fit she would throw if she knew what he had done.

When she awoke, Accacia drank from her waterskin and ate a small breakfast of fruit before they packed the campsite and moved on. Aleco wondered how her body could survive on a diet of only fruits and nuts.

They traveled across the Roslyn Thoroughfare and headed towards Orgoom Forest. Aleco knew the borders would be crawling with guards, checking the entrance and exit of any citizen, so he had to plan their infiltration carefully. He doubted the guards would reside within the actual forest, because Father Giloth would reject the hostility they were impregnating into the woodlands. If Aleco could get her past the border unseen, she would be safe within the forest.

Aleco's mind daydreamed as they traveled in silence, which was now a routine. Unless they had something important to discuss, they did not speak. The sun had risen and blanketed the earth with much appreciated heat and light. Aleco spotted the bumps on her skin and knew she was freezing in her poor attire, so he offered her his cloak, which she rejected immediately, again. Aleco hated himself for what he had done to Accacia. If he had just kept his emotions under control, he would be kissing her right at that moment. However, he knew his ferocity reminded her too much of his twin, and she couldn't stand the resemblance. Aleco understood her apprehension, but hoped she would overcome it eventually. After all, they experienced so much together, and she must have noticed all the positive things he did for her. He doubted Accacia only kissed him because she thought he was going to be executed. He knew there was more to her feelings than that.

The Hideaway

24

"The woman was spotted in Morkarh by several people, but she escaped," Pons said. "Somehow, she bypassed the detection of the guards."

"With Aleco's help," the Chief added. He slid the point of his dagger across his palm. The blade could not penetrate the dry and weathered skin, and it wouldn't bother the Chief even if it did. His anger made him reckless. He watched the knife glide across his open palm. "She never would have escaped without it. Accacia has been rescued from that city twice. You were right, Pons. I should have killed Aleco when I had the chance."

Pons smiled. "We'll find him, Chief."

"Yes, we will," he promised. "We must retrieve those stones. His actions are unforgivable."

The Chief pressed the dagger into this skin and released a line of blood. He'd never had such an incident, but he had never been so angry either. "The duke can never know of this transgression," he said. "Nor can he know of Aleco."

Pons stared at him. "Why?"

The Chief removed his gaze from his bloody palm and met his look. His decisions were never questioned. "For many reasons," he said. He replaced his dagger into his pocket and wiped the blood with a handkerchief. "I realize you are as angry as I am, Pons, and you want retribution for his crimes. But the duke cannot know."

"He is our most lucrative asset," Pons reasoned. "We cannot afford to betray him. Think of his vengeance if he finds the truth from another source."

"We will find Accacia and return her as we promised to do, but he can never know of Aleco's involvement. That information needs to be protected at all costs."

Anger swelled inside Pons. The affection the Chief carried for this man disgusted him. "Why do you continue to protect him?" he said. "He doesn't deserve your special treatment."

The Chief looked at him. His eyes widened at the rebuttal of his inferior, but he controlled his wrath and steadied his hand before it reached for the bloody dagger. "I do not hide this information to protect Aleco, but to protect us," he explained. "I do not need to justify my decisions to you, but since you can't figure out the reasoning behind this, I will explain it to you.

"If we tell Drake about Aleco, that we suspect he is the man who rescued Accacia, how do you think he will react?" he asked. The Chief locked his eyes onto Pons's unflinching ones. "He will assume we were involved with Accacia's capture so we could scam the award money from him. Can you imagine what he would do to us?"

Pons ran his hand through his hair at the revelation. The Chief was right; he hadn't thought of that.

"Now that our stones have been robbed from us, he could strike us down—easily. When he realizes the stones have been stolen, he will be furious that we let something so powerful slip from our grasp. He will be even angrier when he discovers who took them—the very man who took his prized bitch to begin with."

Pons's eyes widened as the knowledge flooded his mind. There was a possibility that the duke would discover this information eventually, but it would be on better terms if they retrieved both Accacia and the stones before that time came. "I agree," Pons said. "He can never know."

"No, he can't."

The duke could never know of Aleco's true identity. The Chief didn't hide that information to protect Aleco anymore, but to protect himself. If Drake knew that the guild had this information the entire time, he would kill them all. And he would start with the Chief.

Roslyn Thoroughfare

25

Aleco found a concealed enclosure he utilized during his travels and suggested they rest in the safety of the hidden area for the time being. Accacia looked exhausted, so he offered to stand guard while she slept. After she dozed off, he covered her with his warm cloak, enveloping her limbs with the scorching heat of his body.

He watched over her while she slept. He leaned his straight back against a tree stump and rested his arms on his knees. He pressed his fingertips to his lips, lost in thought. Aleco gazed at the isolated den and examined the dynamic wildlife. He noticed the birds bouncing in the trees and squirrels harvesting fallen nuts. He knew they were preparing for the approaching winter, and he pitied their efforts. Most of the creatures wouldn't survive anyway.

Aleco removed his fingers from his lips, suddenly realizing who he reminded himself of, and returned his gaze to Accacia. The redness of her exquisite lips became more prominent in contrast to her ivory complexion due to the cold. It complemented the chestnut color of the long, brown tassels that tapered around her high cheekbones. Her unnatural features almost appeared inhuman, so flawless she seemed surreal.

"Accacia," he whispered as he stood over her. He reached down to squeeze her small shoulder, but thought better of it. She made it clear she didn't want him to touch her. If he wanted to regain her trust, he knew he had to obey her wishes and fight to ignore his own urges. "Wake up," he repeated.

She stirred from under the bulky cloak and opened her green eyes. Her perfect face looked serene while she slept in peace, but now it resumed a look of indifference. She rose to her feet and flung his heated cloak back at him, clearly angered that he had given it to her. Her thin body looked immediately frozen without the heated aid of his coat. Accacia's lithe body was slim, with substantial curves around her hips and chest, along with toned muscles in her shapely legs and formed arms, but she still didn't have enough mass to keep herself warm.

"Just wear it, Accacia," he said. He held the cloak out to her. "I have no need of it. Winter has just arrived and the temperature is only going to drop."

She shouldered her pack without looking at him.

"Accacia, stop being so stubborn and put on the damn jacket," he said. "I don't know when we'll find another."

She walked away. "Let's go," she said.

Aleco sighed to himself and followed her.

They stuck to the thickened brush on the side of the weathered path as they advanced to Father Giloth's woods. Accacia shivered as they moved forward, and Aleco saw her rub her arms to stay warm. He wished she would take his jacket. "I sent a message to the old man," he said. "He will be expecting our return."

"I know," she said. She had read the note in his memory.

Darkness crept into the forest and the landscape was hidden from their sight. They settled into a remote patch of condensed trees and prepared their campsite. Accacia built a fire, but Aleco stopped her before she ignited the wood. "It's too risky," he said as he knocked the twigs from her palm. "I'm certain they are searching for us."

Accacia tossed the branches aside and crossed her arms over her chest, clearly deflated at the lack of heat. She rubbed her palms together and hoped the friction of her chafing skin would bring some respite. Accacia's skin changed from a healthy red to a cold ocean blue. Her extremities were freezing in the chill. Aleco wanted to slap her.

It began to snow. Tiny flakes of powder kissed the ground and their noses, melting instantly at the warm contact of their skin. The brown soil turned to white with the falling snow, and the green leaves of the trees disappeared under the powder. Accacia tried to hide her shivers, but her convulsions were out of her control. Her lips were turning blue. Aleco never knew someone could be so stubborn. She would rather die than accept his aid. The thought angered him. "This ends now!"

He covered her shoulders with his cloak and wrapped the wool around her body. Her skin felt like a frozen icicle, and Aleco worried it was too late, that she might become hypothermic and die. Accacia dropped the cloak to the ground. He knew she was too weak to throw it at him. "I don't need your cloak, Aleco," she said.

Aleco lost control of his anger. "Let me explain this to you in terms you can understand," he yelled. He grabbed the cloak from the ground and held it in her face. "If you don't wear this cloak, you will die."

He covered her body with the cloak and held it in place so she couldn't take it off.

"You will wear this," he said. His glare convinced her to surrender her resistance. "You can fight me if you wish, but I promise you will lose. I won't let you die out here."

"What about you?" she asked.

He tightened the folds around her and verified every inch of her sensitive skin was covered. It was her first display of concern for him since they had escaped. He reached his hand towards her. "Feel my skin."

She touched his palm and felt the scorching temperature of his body. She was surprised by its unwavering heat. Without her permission, he grabbed both of her narrow hands and encompassed them within his own, thawing her arctic skin with his warmth. He gripped her hands for a moment and massaged the numbness from her fingertips then blew his hot breath onto her skin. Accacia felt the tingle of sensation return to her limbs as Aleco's heat flooded her extremities. He looked into her beautiful green eyes while he tended to her, but she avoided his gaze and focused her attention on his ministrations. The fire in Accacia's eyes was absent, dormant in the cold. This worried him most of all. "I'm going to breathe into your mouth," he said.

His words startled her but she was too cold to react.

"I would ask for your permission but you forfeited your right with your stupidity. You don't get a choice," he said. "This is going to happen. You are lucky that I'm warning you at all."

She tried to nod but she couldn't move.

"My only intent is to help you. I have no other motive." He pressed his lips against hers and breathed into her mouth. She felt the hot air enter her lungs and the heat absorb into her body. Accacia felt her blood thin and circulate through her veins. Her organs thawed with the warmth. Accacia felt the flicker of her heartbeat increase to a pound as it awoke from its slumber. He continued to breathe into her mouth and she was thankful he did. He pulled away and looked at her, expecting to see the wrath in her eyes and was grateful there was none.

"Thank you," she whispered. Aleco exhaled in relief. She glanced at him in his thin shirt and wondered how he could always maintain such a high level of body heat. She noticed something else, too. She nodded to the necklace he wore. "Why do you still have that?"

It was the very one they had returned to Father Giloth. Aleco had used the contents of the capsule to spare her life when he rescued her from Morkarh. She remembered Father Giloth leaving it on the dinner table and wondered why Aleco kept it.

He was silent for a moment. "No reason," he said. He tucked the matching necklace within the collar of his shirt, hiding it from view. She caressed her own copy of the chain.

The heat dissipated from the cloak and Accacia shivered again. Aleco eyed her convulsions. He knew her life was no longer in danger so he didn't breathe into her mouth again.

"You're always cold," he said.

She nodded.

Aleco knew how he could keep her warm and comfortable but refrained from asking. He already knew her answer. The sight of her continued convulsions changed his mind. "I can keep you warm," he offered. "Lay against my chest, and I will cover us both with the cloak. The heat of my body will still stop your shivers."

"Do I have a choice?"

"Yes," he said. "And I hope you make the right one."

Accacia shivered in silence. Aleco assumed that was her answer until she spoke. "Okay."

Aleco looked at her in surprise. Accacia felt so numb she decided to put her current anger aside. She was too cold to care. He laid himself on the frozen ground and instructed her to crawl onto his chest. She lingered for a moment, uncomfortable with the proximity and what it might bring. The bite of the freezing air encouraged her to continue so she laid her weightless body on his torso. He covered them both with the cloak, and her shivers ceased instantly.

She sighed as the heat surrounded her and thawed her frozen skin. Aleco wrapped his heavy arm around her thin waist, which she didn't object to. He suspected she was already asleep. He indulged in his deepest desire and rubbed his hand against the steep curve of the small of her back, his favorite feature. He grazed his fingertips through her flowing strands. Her scented hair tickled the skin of his neck, but he didn't brush it away, welcoming the pleasant aroma of her natural fragrance. His mind drifted to his usual fantasy and he forced the thoughts from his mind. He could hear the restraints of his control snapping as he thought about making love to her. Aleco stopped the flood of images in his mind and changed his thoughts. He pictured Father Giloth, and Aleco felt the blood recede from his appendage and return to his body. He thought of Father Giloth sipping tea and felt his body relax. He hugged her to his chest as his mind fell into the abyss.

Aleco awoke the following morning with Accacia sprawled across his chest. Her fragile arm was hooked around his neck and her face was below his chin. He felt the brush of her lips against his jaw every time he inhaled.

Accacia opened her eyes and sat up. She crawled off his chest without looking at him, and moved away as fast as she could, a sight that burned Aleco's heart. Aleco wished he could take back his actions more than ever.

They left the campsite and progressed forward. Accacia ignored Aleco's words as they traveled closer to Orgoom Forest. Aleco hoped her anger had softened after their closeness overnight, but she seemed to be even more distant because of the incident. Aleco hadn't foreseen this complication. "I'm sorry," he said. "I would take back everything if I could."

He studied her stoic expression. It didn't reveal any emotion or thought. Her green eyes were the only true indicator of her feelings and they blazed in an evergreen fire at his words. The light in her emerald irises always displayed her thoughts. This was the reason she couldn't lie to Aleco; he saw everything in her eyes. Aleco gripped his hair in frustration. "What do I have to do, Accacia?" he asked. "What do you want from me? I will do anything to earn your forgiveness."

She stopped and stared at him. The hurt on her face shattered his heart, and he fell silent under her gaze, hypnotized by the sparks of green embers bursting from her eyes. "Let me make this clear," she said. "There is nothing you can do. What has come to pass is over, done. I forgive you for hurting me, Aleco. I was the one who provoked your anger by invading your privacy and breaking your trust, but I will never forget what you did to me. I can't regain your trust and you can't earn mine."

"I do trust you."

"Well, you shouldn't," she said. "And you don't deserve mine in return."

"Give me another chance," he begged.

"I already said no."

"Please?"

"You are wasting your time, Aleco. Your words change nothing and they can't change the way I feel," she said. Accacia hated the harshness of her words but she couldn't hide her annoyance. She thought this conversation was over, never to be addressed again. She hated hurting him but he continued to set himself up for failure. Accacia knew she should just let her anger go and see Aleco for who he really was, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Her hatred for his twin was too strong; she was blind. All of this could have been avoided if she could protect herself. She never would have been tortured by the duke, and the guildsman would never have forced her body to the ground. Accacia could have stopped Aleco from hurting her. "There is something I want from you, if you are willing to give it."

"Name it," he said. "If there is anything I can do for you, I will."

She studied his face and wondered if he would grant her this special request. "I want to be your apprentice," she said. "I want to be as skilled a fighter as you are, and not only with a blade, but with my bare hands and my mind. I want to protect myself. Never again will I be helpless when a man attacks me."

Aleco dropped his gaze, ashamed of her reference.

"I will never be the victim of an assault or a beating," she continued. "Never again will a man take me against my will, because they will die before they can even make the attempt—I will be a warrior. Will you teach me, Aleco?"

Aleco looked at her. "Yes," he said. "I will, whether you choose to trust me or not."

"Thank you," she said. "Let's get started."

Aleco dedicated an hour a day to demonstrating the fundamental battle tactics he'd acquired during his tenure as a committed member of the Serpentine Guild, where he learned to be the master assassin he had become.

Teaching these maneuvers to Accacia was difficult because he couldn't instruct her the way he'd been taught, through sparing, which was the quickest route to learning. Aleco refused to take that avenue because of the real possibility that he would hurt her.

Eventually, Accacia wanted to practice her new craft on Aleco, but he rejected her request. "Aleco, if I want to be proficient, it's essential I engage with a real opponent."

"Absolutely not," he said.

"How else am I supposed to learn?"

"Practice with someone else," he said. "I will not be the one who harms you."

Accacia sheathed her black sword and gazed at Aleco. She understood him well enough to know he wouldn't budge in his decision. She witnessed his expertise in battle and marveled at his unparalleled skill. She wondered how Aleco had become so accomplished in his abilities. "How did you train, Aleco?"

Aleco told her the tale of the excruciating experience. He had been thrown into a locked chamber, unable to flee, as other members of the guild attacked him and bloodied him into unconsciousness. He had received no formal instruction and was forced to learn to survive on his own. Months later, he finally blocked their powerful blows and returned them with vicious strikes. The real training commenced when the Chief believed he was worthy.

Accacia stared at him. "Aleco, this is very important to me," she said. "I need you to do this."

"No."

"Please help me defend myself," she said. "You have no concerns about being pinned to the floor with your legs held apart. You never have to worry about being a man's slave. You don't know how it feels."

Aleco wanted to vomit at the thought. The idea of Accacia being raped made him dizzy with sickness. "I promised I would never hurt you," he said. "I intend to keep my promise this time."

She seized his forearms. "I release you from your oath. Please do this for me."

Aleco watched the desperate plea in her eyes and knew she was serious. She rubbed his arms with her gentle hands, silently begging him to oblige. Aleco knew this would be a brutal experience for her, but she would be prepared for any future assault and be spared of any further pain. This knowledge convinced Aleco of his choice. "Okay."

Accacia smiled and his heart fluttered at the sight. Aleco knew her happiness would disappear when the training began. She squeezed his arm before releasing her welcomed touch. "Thank you."

"This is only going to happen on my terms, my way."

"I understand," she said.

"No, you don't," he snapped. "If at any time, the pain is unbearable, just say the word, and I'll cease my advance."

"I understand—"

"My concern is you won't tell me when it is too much for you. I need you to swear your honesty," he explained. "I need to trust you to speak the truth. Can I trust you?"

"Yes, of course."

Aleco stared at her and examined her countenance for dishonesty.

She rolled her eyes. "You can trust me, Aleco."

"I better," he said. "Otherwise the arrangement is off."

Accacia's lidded eyes sagged in exhaustion, crippled from their intense training that afternoon and the laborious leagues they covered during the day, but Aleco couldn't let her sleep.

"We have to enter the forest under the cover of darkness," he said. They approached the border of the immense trees and Aleco looked around for the Aleutian soldiers. He didn't see any. "Infiltrating the forest under the sun is too dangerous. We mustn't be seen." Aleco turned to Accacia. "We can't make a sound. There are dozens of soldiers searching for you."

He gazed at her hidden features within the depth of his massive cloak, which cascaded around her in layered folds, hiding her petite frame from view. She looked very warm and comfortable. Aleco felt guilty at his following request. "I need my cloak," he said with an extended hand. "I can't risk it."

He noticed her crestfallen face and his remorse increased. Aleco felt like he was stealing food from a starving a child. He didn't know which was worse: the soldiers recognizing the supposedly dead twin or spotting the escaped Accacia.

She removed the cherished jacket and returned it to him. She crossed her arms and shivered. The sight was unbearable. "Come here," he said.

He outstretched his arm and circled it around her waist, giving her a small respite from the cold. Accacia overcame the unwanted closeness and jumped into his warm embrace to escape the winter chill.

They crept through the dark trees towards Orgoom Forest in silence, stopping at the slightest snap of a twig or rustle of a leaf. Aleco could hear the crunch of snow under Accacia's clumsy steps and told her to roll her heels. It was an overcast evening, deepening the forest floor into blackness. Aleco could navigate through the woods blindfolded so he steered Accacia to their destination with ease. The nightfall provided them extra cover from Drake's soldiers and assisted in their passage. They circumvented the forest, approaching Father Giloth's abode from the backlands of the wilds, the least watched route. Aleco held Accacia close to his heated body as they traversed through the stumps of trees. He wanted to advance at a quicker pace to get Accacia inside but he couldn't risk the possibility of being captured, so they crept through the forest slowly.

Accacia's entire composition shook in the freezing temperature. Every part of her body felt like a frozen piece of ice, and Aleco's concern turned to panic. She stumbled across the snow, and without Aleco's support, would have fallen to the ground, never to rise again. Accacia's knees buckled beneath her and she collapsed in Aleco's arms.

Aleco pressed his hand over her chest and felt her heartbeat, which was dangerously slow. Aleco understood her body was shutting down. Dismissing his own protection, he wrapped her inside the cloak and carried her to Asylinth House, running in haste.

They approached the back of Father Giloth's humble home without being spotted and Aleco ran to the secret doorway the old man had constructed for him, allowing him to visit the dwelling unnoticed. The entryway was difficult to distinguish even in daylight, and in the darkness it was almost impossible, but the urgency of Accacia's receding health spurred Aleco to quicken his pace. Aleco located the passage and they entered the invisible doorway.

Aleco had no time to scout the house and investigate who was residing within the shelter. He carried Accacia upstairs to the guestroom, his former bedroom, and filled the bathtub with cold water. He returned downstairs to retrieve hot rocks from the roaring hearth and deposited them into the water. When steam floated from the surface of the bathtub, he removed Accacia's clothes and placed her within the tub. He secured her head above the rim with a pillow.

Aleco succumbed to the weakness of desire and gazed at the alluring curves of her disrobed figure then forced himself to look away, ashamed at his indecent thoughts during her vulnerable state. He placed a blanket over the top of the tub to hide her nudity from view. Now he wouldn't be tempted to look at her. Aleco pulled a chair next to her and waited.

After an hour, Aleco assessed her heartbeat, which had picked up significantly, and estimated that the temperature of her skin had returned to normal. Aleco sighed in relief.

He dried her body with a clean towel and tucked her into the four poster bed, pulling the swan feather sheets over her inactive form, enclosing the warmth of the blankets around her.

Debilitated from their chaotic peril, he laid his sore frame on the floor and closed his eyes. Unconsciously, he wrapped his arm across his chest, holding onto something he wished was truly there.

Orgoom Forest

26

Accacia sat up in bed the following morning and looked at her surroundings in confusion, unsure of her location. It took her a moment to realize they were in her childhood home. How they made it there, Accacia couldn't recall. The last moment she could remember was trekking through the forest towards the house, in the freezing snow, with no protection from winter's malicious bite.

Accacia stood up and realized she was naked, which bewildered her even further. She searched for her clothes and spotted them laying on the floor with Aleco sleeping alongside them. Anger flooded her body as she contemplated what had transpired the night before. Accacia was angry the first time Aleco had undressed her, but now she was furious. Now that he had violated her trust and physically abused her, she had no tolerance for his obvious disrespect.

The sound of her dressing awoke Aleco. He sat up and rubbed his temples with his fingers, fighting a morning migraine. His voice was raspy. "How are you feeling, Accacia?" He had no idea Accacia was upset with him; he had done nothing wrong.

The inferno blazed in her emerald eyes. "Why am I always naked when I wake up with you?

Aleco looked at her in disbelief. He saved her life again, and had done it so many times that he couldn't recall the number, and she accused him of some perverted motive? Aleco controlled his anger from escaping into his tone. "You collapsed on me in the woods. You were practically dead," he said. "I carried you to the house, dropped your ungrateful ass into the tub of warm water, and then tucked you nicely into bed. If I hadn't done so, you wouldn't be here to argue something so petty."

He rose to his feet and stared at her. "I removed your clothes to save your life! If I wanted to violate you, I would have done it already. I could have had you as many times as I wanted. I may have hurt you in the past, but I've never assaulted you and have given you no reason to suspect I ever would."

The fire in her eyes dimmed as he spoke. He hoped she felt guilty about her unfounded accusation. It was obvious he wanted her but he would only take her if the feeling was mutual.

"This may come as a surprise to you," he said, "but I like my women both willing and awake."

Accacia crossed her arms over her chest and looked down, unsure how to react to his declaration. He looked at her and waited for her to say something, anything. When she remained mute, he dismissed himself.

"I'll let myself out," he said.

Aleco stepped towards the bedroom door and she grabbed his arm. "I apologize, Aleco," she said. "I am grateful for what you did. Thank you."

Aleco smiled. "You're very welcome," he mimicked Father Giloth.

Accacia chuckled at his impersonation.

"But you don't need to thank me. I will always take care of you, Accacia," he said. "You can trust me."

Accacia dropped her smile and looked away, uncomfortable with his choice of words. "You should go," she said.

"Please, Accacia." He sighed. "Can we return to the way we were? Not as lovers, but as friends?"

"No," she said. "When a stone grinds into sand, it can never become a rock again. The process is irreversible. I never want to speak of this again, Aleco. So please drop it."

Aleco's heart fell from his chest and dropped into his stomach. Accacia looked around the room, gazing at anything but him. She tightened her arms across her chest, cutting him off from any possible contact with her. Accacia turned her back to his forlorn expression and sat at the edge of the bed, waiting for him to leave the guestroom. Aleco had been tortured, physically bashed into unconsciousness, and broken beyond repair by the horrifying experiences he'd witnessed, but this rejection hurt more than all of them—combined. "I know you've been through a lot with Drake. I understand what a corrupt fiend he is. I know what he put you through was inexplicable, but you can't let it consume you like this," he said. "You need to let it go and move on—"

"You're one to talk about moving on," she said.

"It's not the same thing," he snapped. "You have a chance to be happy. I never will."

Aleco stared at her. "I realize it hasn't been much time to process your pain, but stop assuming every man is like him. Stop assuming I'm like him simply because I look like him. You're punishing me for deeds I did not commit. I have done so many great things for you, but you don't see any of that. You just see the momentary sliver of anger that shined through."

Accacia sighed. "You don't understand," she said. "It's not just what you did, Aleco. If you want, I can tell you, or better yet, I can show you, if it will help explain it."

"What do you mean?"

"To show you why I can't be with you; why I can't let you in."

"You want to show me a memory?"

"If it will help," she said.

"Tell me what it is first."

"Very well," she said. "The first night I was captured by the duke he raped me, a transgression that may have no meaning to you, but was scarring nonetheless." Of course it had meaning to him. Just the image in his mind made him insane with rage. "Anyway, when it was—happening, he squeezed my arms by my side, bruising them with his strength as he overpowered me, just as you did, and the look in his eye—it's just too similar. When I look at you, I see him. It's unfair, yes I know it is, but it's the truth. How can I be with someone I am terrified of?"

"I don't want to see the memory," he said as he dropped his gaze. "Accacia, I understand your feelings, but they will go away eventually. You can't ignore your feelings for me because of what some maniac did to you."

"Yes, I can, Aleco, because I have no feelings for you," she said. "I was simply caught in the moment when I thought you would meet your end. I wanted to return your affection as a last comfort." Accacia wanted to destroy any hope he had for something happening between them. She knew she could never look past his identical features. She didn't know how she felt for Aleco, but she knew she would never release her hate for Drake.

He saw the light of her eyes dim in despair. He recognized that look along with the sound of her voice. "I don't know why you even bother," he said. "Say whatever you want to make this easier, Accacia, but I recognize this for what it is: a lie."

Aleco left her room and shut the door behind him. He entered the study and helped himself to a filled canter of brandy, despite the early morning light, downing it like water. It was hidden in the herb cabinet for some reason. Father Giloth entered the study in his night robe and was not surprised by Aleco's unexpected appearance. He spotted the decanter he thought he had hidden so well.

Father Giloth sat behind his wooden desk. "Isn't it a little early for such a beverage?" he asked with disapproval.

"Not for me," Aleco said. He finished the contents of the glass and refilled it.

Father Giloth watched his movements and studied his depressed demeanor. He knew something was different. "You seem more grim than usual, Aleco," he said.

Aleco ignored his comment. "Tell Natalia to prepare Asylinth Cottage. I'm going to stay there for the time being."

"May I ask why?"

"No, you may not. Is there anything you need to tell me before I go?"

Father Giloth was quiet for a moment, silently pondering Aleco's changed behavior. "Actually, I do need to speak with you, but I need to speak with Accacia also. I presume she is here as well?"

Aleco shattered the glass in his hand. "Yes," he said.

Now the old man knew the cause of his behavior. "Well, I will give you a day of rest before we have our discussion. It is comprised of arduous material."

"Where are the soldiers?" Aleco asked.

"They are patrolling the border. I had the joyous experience of them examining every inch of every shelter within the forest, until they were certain that Accacia was nowhere to be found. Now, they are guarding the border, no one enters or departs without their knowledge."

Aleco laughed to himself.

"You should be safe in Asylinth Cottage. If they have any reason to speak with me, they will come here and I will keep Accacia out of sight until she leaves."

"I sincerely hope you've found a new escort," he said.

"What happened between the pair of you?"

Aleco ignored his question. "Tell Accacia that at midday, every day, we will continue our lessons, if she wishes," he said. "I will meet her behind the cottage."

Aleco rose from his chair and walked to the hidden door. "Would you like some breakfast before you leave?" Father Giloth asked.

Aleco shut the door behind him. His attitude and behavior had always been dark and forlorn, but Father Giloth had never seen him so wounded. He couldn't imagine what Accacia had done to destroy Aleco's already broken spirit. He was certain it wasn't intentional.

Father Giloth heard sounds in the hallway and recognized Accacia's beautiful voice. He left his study in search of her. Accacia's comely face lit with joy at the sight of him and she fell into his warm embrace, welcoming the feeling of home. Father Giloth kissed her on the forehead.

"How are you, my dear?"

"I'm very happy to be back," she said as she hugged Natalia, who returned the gesture with enthusiasm. Natalia had been in Accacia's life since she was a small child, and she was as important a figure as Father Giloth. "I'm going to cook up some breakfast," she said. "How does maple walnut pancakes sound?"

"It sounds delicious, Natalia." She smiled. It was her favorite meal.

They sat in the dining room and discussed Accacia's trip, which she omitted most of due to the content. They refrained from discussing her years of imprisonment with the duke, because Accacia didn't want to speak about those horrifying experiences, and she was certain Father Giloth couldn't bear to hear them.

Accacia looked at the vacant chair across from her and noticed Aleco's absence. Father Giloth observed her gaze and answered her unspoken question. "Aleco requested to stay in Asylinth Cottage. He wanted me to tell you that you can continue your lessons every day, at midday, if you still wish to."

Accacia looked down at her half-eaten pancakes, her appetite suddenly gone. She poked a lone walnut on her plate with her fork, her eyes downturned to her work.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Accacia didn't look at him. "There is nothing to say, really."

Father Giloth watched her in silence for a moment. He never pushed anyone into divulging information they were uncomfortable discussing, so it made his advice more difficult to give. "Accacia, as far as I am concerned, you are my daughter," he said. "I have loved you like a father from the moment I first saw you, held you. You are one of the most important people in my life." She smiled at his moving confession. "But I also feel this way about my son, Aleco."

Accacia looked at him. She already understood their familial relationship and knew Aleco was his nephew, but since Father Giloth hoarded this knowledge, she assumed he didn't want her to know about it. So she sat there quietly and listened.

"Yes, I consider Aleco as good as a son. I realize that is difficult for you to believe, since you never saw him as you aged, but that doesn't make it untrue. I love him like my own child, and I will stand by him forever.

"I don't know what happened between the two of you, Aleco wouldn't comment on it, but I sincerely hope the two of you can work it out. He is a good man, Accacia. He just has—issues at times."

Orgoom Forest

27

Accacia trailed behind Father Giloth as he strode across the snow like a man in his youth. Father Giloth's hair was as white as the ice crystals, with a beard that matched the color of winter. The skin of his hands and face sagged in wrinkles, but the agility of his body belied his age. Accacia forced herself to maintain his pace.

They were headed to the center of the forest to praise and worship the source of magic of the woods. The Loriuen Tree fueled the power of the forest. Accacia could see the top of the tree even from the other side of the forest, so majestic was its size. She felt the presence of the tree hum within her soul, calling to her as she stepped closer to it. Father Giloth felt the song of the tree as well and he began to hum in accordance with the natural vibrations emitted from the soul of the tree. Accacia smiled as she listened to his hum and added her voice to his. They used to do this often when she lived within the forest as a Naturalist, and the familiar activity made her smile.

Accacia and Father Giloth stepped past the last line of trees before a wide meadow opened to the foot of the Loriuen Tree, which was vacant except for the growth of wild grass. The massive roots covered the ground before they dug deep into the earth, extracting enough water to feed the massive stump of the tree. Accacia stared at the Loriuen Tree in awe; it was a sight she would never grow tired of.

"It is a heavenly sight, isn't it?" Father Giloth asked.

"Yes."

"You have all your supplies, dear?"

"Yes, Father."

"Good," he said. "Let's pamper this mighty oak."

Accacia shoveled the snow away from the stump of the tree, clearing the area of the freezing ice that covered the roots and the forest floor. She examined the abrasions of the bark and tended to the cuts with plant oil, sealing the cracks from invasion of parasitic insects. She sang to the tree as she tended to its needs, and heard Father Giloth join her voice with his own song.

She was uncovering a patch of snow, pushing against the bark, when she saw something unusual—a patch a newly upturned soiled, which had been repacked into the earth. It appeared that someone had buried something under the tree or had stolen an item. "Father Giloth!" she yelled around the curve of the tree. The stump was massive and she couldn't see Father Giloth on the other side. The lack of response made her realize he probably hadn't heard her. She continued to walk around the tree until she spotted two other piles, which looked identical to the original soil she found. Digging near the Loriuen Tree was forbidden by law; the act was treacherous. She couldn't understand why anyone who voluntarily lived in these woods, and therefore respected this tree, would perform such a heinous act. "Father!"

Father Giloth finally rounded the tree with a look of concern. "Are you alright, Accacia?"

"Yes," she said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. Look at this," she said as she pointed to the patch of upturned soil. "There are four others just like it."

Father Giloth stared at the piles of soil but said nothing. He bent down and examined each patch with his hand. "The tree is in no pain," he said. Father Giloth felt the hum of the tree in his ears and knew it was safe. He communicated directly with the tree, the Nature God, and it informed him of the wisdom he was renowned for. The Naturalists assumed Father Giloth drew his powers from the oak staff he carried, but in fact, it was derived from the tree itself. The Nature Priest was the guardian of the tree, and it was his responsibility to protect it against any harm. The tree was magical in ways even Father Giloth could not explain. He knew the death of the tree would be the death of them all. "The tree is safe," he assured her.

"This is still unacceptable," she said as she ran her hands through the dirt. "It's a desecration of holy ground. Why would someone do this?"

Father Giloth grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. He smiled at her. "The tree is content and unharmed, that's all that matters."

"Guards should be posted to protect the tree," she insisted. "I couldn't live on if something had tarnished the purity of the Loriuen Tree."

"I couldn't either, dear," he said. "I will have the Naturalists patrol the tree in turns."

"Thank you, Father."

He nodded.

"What are the thoughts of the tree today?" she asked as she ran her hands over the smooth bark. She felt the heartbeat of the tree through her palms, and her body shivered at the contact. She was touching the afterlife.

"It does not communicate the way you and I do, or any human for that matter, because it does not speak in words, or even images—but feelings."

"How do you understand the tree's meaning?"

"I'm not certain. I believe the gift of understanding comes with the office. This allows only the true Nature Priest to communicate with the Loriuen Tree. Only he can hear its secrets."

"What secrets does it tell you?" she asked as she walked around the tree and stared into the canopy, forty feet in the air.

"Many secrets," he said. "Some are significant, such as an approaching earthquake, and others of less importance, such as the birth of a beetle."

"That's amazing," she whispered. "Does it tell you how to use your powers?"

"Yes," he said. "She has taught me everything I know."

"It's a she?" she asked with interest.

"Well, the Nature God has no human gender role, since it is manifested in the form of a tree, but when she speaks to me, her voice has a female aspect—her feelings seem motherly."

Accacia nodded.

"Is there anything else you need to do before we leave?" he asked. "Do you have your supplies?"

"Yes, I have everything," she said. "But I need to do something before we leave." Accacia fell to her knees and faced the tree. "I need to pray."

Father Giloth stepped back and let her worship the tree in silence. The song of her voice carried to the canopy of leaves and danced in the wind to her song. She sang loudly, praising the tree and its gifts, thanking the Nature God for the life she was given. She brought the music to an end.

"That was very beautiful, Accacia," he said. "The tree enjoyed it immensely."

"I'm glad," she said. "I hope my voice is worthy."

They left the clearing and returned to Asylinth House. Father Giloth could hear the agony of the tree with every step they took away from its grounds. The sound of Accacia's voice pleased the tree and it was upset to feel her leave its presence. It wanted her to stay for always; singing love abodes to its leaves forever. The tree had questioned the Nature Priest every day about Accacia when she was stolen from the forest. It demanded to know when she would return. The knowledge that she may never reappear angered the Nature God. As soon as Accacia stepped into the borders of the Orgoom Forest, it knew she reappeared to its ground, and continually ordered Father Giloth to bring Accacia to its roots. Father Giloth never mentioned its attachment to Accacia because he feared it would frighten her—it was enough to frighten him.

Asylinth Cottage

28

At midday, Accacia trekked to Asylinth Cottage, a humble shack even smaller than Father Giloth's petite home. She was dressed in appropriate attire supplied by Father Giloth to withstand the freezing temperature. She entered the small field of grass behind it, which was covered with a thin layer of white snow, making it slippery but not difficult to maneuver in. She looked at the branches of the trees and the piles of snow that caked the leaves, and spotted the winter flowers protrude past the heavy cover, defiant. Accacia hated the winter months, considering it the season of death.

Aleco exited the cottage, carrying his weapons over his shoulder, shirtless. He dropped the gear into the snow and retrieved his signature blackened blade from the ground, easy to spot with its contrasting color. He hadn't looked at Accacia yet.

She approached him with her sword sheathed in the belt around her waist. The snow swished beneath her feet, making her gait more unsteady than usual. "You're going to freeze, Aleco," she said.

Aleco ignored her and kept his head down as he sharpened his blade, focusing his sight on his sword and not on Accacia. "You're sure you still want to do this?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied.

"So be it," he said as he stood up.

Accacia noticed the sculpted muscles of his chest and perfectly shaped arms, the carved lines of strength etched across his torso. He watched her with a stern expression, his eyes locked onto her wandering gaze as she appraised his powerful physique. His fair skin was flawless, unlike what she assumed it would be, covered in scars, cuts, and bruises. She was amazed how quickly he'd healed and wondered what he used to promote its speed. His blue eyes reflected the white patches of snow covering the trees in the distance, and his blond hair complemented his complexion perfectly. He resembled his twin exactly, but to Accacia, he looked completely different in comparison. For the first time, she didn't see Drake, just Aleco.

"Are you ready?" he interrupted Accacia's thoughts.

Abashed, she looked away from his powerful frame. "Yes, I am," she said.

He walked into the middle of the field, which was completely caked with snow, and took a defensive stance a few feet from her. The crystals of precipitation reached to their ankles, which would be an additional barrier for Accacia in her movements. The snowy landscape and the chilly air empowered Aleco. He loved the coldness and the quiet scenery. The sky was a perfect mirror of the forest floor, completely bleached. "Do I have your word, Accacia?"

Accacia knew what he was referring to. "I already gave it to you," she replied.

Aleco stared at her. He had his sword unsheathed, hanging at his side, as he clenched the handle of the weapon. He unleashed his powerful stroke and aimed at her arm with a flash of speed. She barely had time to block the blow, which she did carelessly, and lost her grip on the sword. It dropped to the snow.

Aleco didn't stop his advance. He tossed his own blade to the ground and attacked her. He tripped her legs from under her feet, and pushed her down to the pile of powder. She screamed as she crashed onto the freezing earth. Aleco climbed on top of her and held her wrists at her side, pinning her down to the ground, exactly the way Drake had. Accacia felt frightened—she had been in this position too many times.

Aleco's menacing eyes bore into hers as he held her to the ground. "What are you going to do, Accacia?" She tried to kick him off but his heavy mass was too much for her to move. She twisted her arms away from his grasp but his tight grip was too strong to escape. "WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?"

Accacia continued to squirm under his hold and flexed her hips trying to buck him off, but it was useless. She was too compromised, and he was too heavy. Water formed in her eyes and she fought back the tears. She tried to hold back her fear, but the moment was too intense, too emotional, and the unwelcome sobs emerged.

"Don't you dare give up!"

"Aleco, get off of me," she cried.

"No."

Accacia screamed in frustration. She tasted the salt from her tears as they dripped into her mouth. Her anger was fueled by her weakness, her inability to protect herself.

"I have all day," he said.

She lifted her right leg from the ground, over his shoulder, and forced it against his throat. Aleco released one wrist to restrain her ankle, and with her now free hand, Accacia slugged him hard in the face. She hit him again in the nose and watched blood ooze from his nostrils. Pride surged through her body at his compromised state. Utilizing both her leg and her arm, she pulled him off her body and got to her feet. She spotted her sword and grabbed it, pointing it at Aleco who stood a few feet away with blood trickling down his face.

"Good," he said, as he wiped the blood away with his hand. "It's a start." Aleco walked to his pack and wiped his face with a cloth. He returned to her. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she said as she continued to aim the sword at him. The adrenaline coursed through her body as if she was still in battle. Reliving that nightmare invigorated her with strength, and she realized that it was possible. She could do this.

"Let's try it again. This time, don't drop your sword."

She nodded and their sparring continued. Aleco gave her a few bruises along her ribs and nailed her with the hilt of the sword on the arm, but he continued his advance since Accacia never told him otherwise. He was surprised when she pushed on even after he had injured her and pushed her beyond her limitations. He wondered if she was keeping her promise. "That's enough for today," he said.

He repacked his gear and was about to walk into the house when Accacia stopped him.

"How am I doing?

"Horrible," he said. "But you'll get it eventually."

Aleco walked away. Accacia hated his indifference. "Aleco?" she said.

"Hmm?" he said without turning around.

"Why are you staying out here?" she asked. "It isn't necessary."

Aleco marched to her and stared at her with his crystal blue eyes. "I want to stay out here, Accacia. You got what you wanted," he said. "So leave me alone."

He strode to the cottage and opened the door.

"Aleco," she called.

The only answer she received was the slamming of his front door.

Their training continued for the following weeks as they deepened into the winter season. The days became shorter, the air became colder, and the snow piled higher on the ground, but they continued sparring every day. Father Giloth was prepared to discuss something with the pair of them, but pushed it back, hoping they could work out their differences beforehand. He had no knowledge of what caused their tense dispute. Aleco still had not come to the house and stayed far away from Accacia as often as he could.

Accacia had encouraged Aleco to return to Asylinth House often but he refused any offer she made. It was clear he wanted nothing to do with her. Accacia's skills had improved significantly during their lessons, and Aleco had increased her instruction to last most of the day because he knew she needed the additional help. She could deflect his blows and assaults quicker and return with ferocious strikes of her own. She wasn't as skilled as Aleco, but she could inflict serious damage in any fight.

"We are done here," Aleco said, ending the lesson.

Accacia's chest was heaving, her arms were covered in bruises, and she was too sore to simply lift her sword. Their training had pushed her body to heightened limits, and he could see it in her form. Her arms were toned with strong muscles, her small shoulders were rounded, and her abdominal muscles were tight.

Aleco left the clearing and wordlessly entered his cottage as he did every day, ignoring her existence whenever they weren't sparring. He poured himself a brandy and sat in the cramped living room, slowly enjoying his reprieve for the afternoon.

He heard a knock on the door and growled at the intrusion. Rising from his seat, he opened the door to Accacia. "What?" he snapped. Aleco swallowed the contents of his glass while he stared at her.

Her neutral face fell to a frown at his hostility, and even in sadness, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He shook his head and forced the thought from his mind.

"Will you have dinner with me tonight?"

Thankfully, Aleco had already swallowed the liquor; otherwise he would have spit it out. "What? Why would I want to do that?"

"Please?"

"No, thanks," he said. "I have no desire to be with either of you at the moment."

"It would just be me."

"Even worse," he said.

Accacia rolled her eyes. "I'll be back in an hour."

Aleco's eyes narrowed in confusion. "So, you invite yourself to dinner at my place, where you expect me to cook, and when I say no, you decide to come anyway?"

"Don't worry. I'll take care of everything."

"That doesn't change my answer," he said.

"I'll see you soon." She smiled and walked away.

Accacia returned within an hour, and conquered the kitchen. She boiled a pot on the fire stove, chopped potatoes and carrots at the counter, and made a delicious smelling cider tea.

Aleco sat in the living room that was opened to the kitchen and drank his brandy before the fireplace. Accacia walked over, snatched the throat burning beverage from his hand, and replaced it with the scented tea. "I'm cutting you off." She smiled when Aleco sniffed the tea then sipped it. It wasn't bad. The brandy was the clear winner though.

She set the table and they began their meal. Aleco waited to hear the reason for this unexpected social event. The last time he checked, he was an untrusting perverse man that had some alternative motive for her safety, and she wanted no companionship from him. Was she just lonely? Secretly, Aleco hoped she had finally forgiven him.

Accacia had reflected on their relationship for the past few weeks. She thought she would be happy back in Orgoom Forest but all she thought about was Aleco. Their relationship needed to be mended. Father Giloth's words had caused her to change her perspective on Aleco. The Nature Priest loved him like a son even when he didn't have to. There must be a reason. Aleco had given her the ability to become a warrior, and it was the greatest gift she had ever received. Her conflicted emotions confused her.

The stew she prepared was delicious, despite its lack of meat. Aleco finished his plate and even ate a second serving. Accacia wore her typical traveling attire of tight leggings, dirty boots, and a long-sleeved black shirt. Her brown hair fell on her shoulders in lustrous curls, and he couldn't help but wonder if she understood just how beautiful she was. Even when she adorned herself to look ordinary, she still looked extraordinary. Aleco changed the subject in his mind. "Why are you here?"

Accacia finished swallowing her food before she spoke. She didn't know how this conversation was going to unfold. She knew how angry Aleco was, and he had every right to be, but she feared he would throw her out. "I realized I made a mistake," she said. "What you did to me was completely wrong, but—I should have forgiven you weeks ago. Now it's my turn to seek forgiveness."

Aleco watched her in silence, unable to verbalize how much that meant to him, and how much he missed her over those agonizing weeks, as he mended his own broken heart in solitude.

"You have protected me at the cost of your own life, more than once, and I've been so focused on what happened that I became blindsided to all of that. Now, you've helped me in the greatest way, by giving me the ability to protect myself, and—I'm sorry, Aleco. You were right. I shouldn't hold it against you in light of everything you've done for me. I should have let it go sooner."

Aleco smiled at her and she smiled back. He rose from his chair and walked to her side of the table, picked her up from the chair, and hugged her tightly. "You are forgiven, Accacia." Accacia laughed as he held her above the ground and swung her from side to side. She had never seen him so happy. "Accacia, I didn't think you were ever going to forgive me. I'm so grateful that you have," he said. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, Aleco," she said. The intensity of his embrace made her heart flutter. She didn't want Aleco to assume that their romantic relationship would continue as well; she wasn't certain how she felt about that. Her feelings for Aleco were intense and confusing. "This doesn't mean—"

"I know," he interrupted her. "Your friendship and trust is enough." He hugged her harder.

"Aleco, there is something I want to give you, as a thank you for everything you've done for me," she said. Accacia felt her hands sweat as she spoke. She wasn't sure why she was doing this but she knew she wanted to. It was an inexplicable need that she couldn't fathom. "I know it's something—you want."

He released his embrace and stared her. He had no idea what she referring to. "What is it?" he asked with interest.

"Me," she said. She watched the confused expression on his face, oblivious to her implication. She didn't want to explain further.

Her words bewildered Aleco. Just a moment ago, she said she forgave him, but their relationship would remain platonic, a proposition he had agreed to, so what was her meaning? "I don't understand," he said.

Accacia took a deep breath as she stared at his crystal blue irises. She didn't see the maniac rapist in those eyes, but a man she trusted and cared for. Accacia thought about the kisses they shared and knew she wanted to feel that embrace again. The thought of him shirtless gave her chills.

She pushed him back into the seat. He stared at her blankly as she grabbed his shoulder, and lowered herself onto his lap slowly, her legs straddling his hips. He felt her thighs tighten around his sides as she squeezed him gently. His heart began to thump sporadically as her meaning dawned on him and sent arousal coursing through his body in pounding waves. Her intoxicating scent splashed over him and caused his hands to shake. He forced his hands to dangle at his sides, not allowing them to do what they really wanted. As she leaned closer to him, her brown locks fell down her shoulder to her perky breasts, and he desperately wanted to run his fingertips through the strands. His fists clenched at his sides and he tried to think logically, clearly, as the woman he wanted for so long leaned her body into him. He forced himself to behave.

She pressed her forehead against his and stared down at his lips. Her warm breath fell upon his face and he wanted to kiss her, part her lips with his own. His eyes were glued to her mouth and he watched her lick her lips, which almost sent him over the edge.

He closed his eyes and felt his hands run up her toned thighs, completely out of his control. They grabbed her hips and massaged the skin at the brim of her pants. His fingers slipped under her camisole and felt the smooth skin of her waist. He wanted to kiss the area and hoped he would by the end of the night. His breathing came out ragged and shaky, his physiological response had stimulated every part of his body and it worked in overdrive to prepare for the physical demands of his desire. She placed one arm around his neck and the opposite hand upon his chest. She scooted herself closer to him and he knew she could feel his swelling arousal, since she was sitting directly on it.

"Accacia, you don't need to do this." He breathed. "You don't owe me anything."

He attempted to be a gentleman even though he didn't mean a word he said. He wanted this to happen, and now that she was sitting astride him, he didn't know if he would be able to stop if she wanted to end it. He feared he would hold her down and take her against her will. What she was doing was very dangerous.

"Isn't this what you want?" she asked as she kissed him lightly on the lips. Her mouth lingered on his for a moment and he reluctantly let her pull away. She ran her hands through his hair and his spine shivered.

"Only if you do," he whispered. Aleco wished he would stop talking.

"Well, I'm sitting on your lap, aren't I?" She kissed his jawline until she came to his ear, which she kissed gently. The intimate sound of her kiss directly into his ear made him grip her tighter, and the moist feel of her lips on such a tender area made him gasp. The desire that coursed through him was like a lit firework about to burst at any second. She felt his breathing become more labored and she secretly enjoyed the affect she had on him. His hands tightened around her waist and she felt his hips rock slightly, like the beginning waves of an incoming tide. She knew how much he wanted this. His half-hearted, chivalrous attempts amused her.

"Damn, Accacia," he said through a heavy breath. "I can't think clearly when you do that."

"Do you want to think clearly?" she teased.

"I want to know that you understand what you're doing," he said. "That you realize you don't have to do this. Your friendship is enough to satisfy me."

"You deserve more than that," she whispered as her kiss moved down to his neck. He tilted his chin and exposed himself to her, his moans of pleasure a direct contradiction of his words. He was the worst liar she had ever met. She wasn't the only one who couldn't tell a convincing lie. "After everything you've done for me, and the way I treated you, you deserve to be satisfied. I want to satisfy you."

"Gods, Accacia," he said. "You can't talk like that."

"I mean it."

"This is a one-time thing?"

She rubbed her body up against his, her breasts pressed against his chest, and nodded.

"Accacia, if you keep touching me like this—"

Her kiss interrupted his words.

"I'm going to lose control and—"

She kissed him again.

He pulled away. "And I won't be able to stop, Accacia, even if you beg me to." She smiled at him and ran her fingers through his hair. He grabbed her wandering hand, and looked her directly in the eye. "So I am going to ask you again," he said. "Are you sure you want this?"

He prayed her answer was yes.

She leaned into him and whispered directly into his ear. "I want you inside me."

Every restraint was snapped like thin twig under a heavy boot. Any reservations he had about this situation were gone, and all he felt was his arousal for the woman he desired. The dam of the ocean had been broken and his feelings flooded out to every shore. His lips were on hers again and he kissed her the way he wanted, with intense passion and loving caresses. His hands ran wild over her body. They felt her muscled calves then glided to her hips, circling her petite waistline with both hands. He clutched the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. Her bottom rubbed against his arousal as she moved. She knew Aleco wasn't ashamed of the indicator of his feelings.

His touch moved to her chest where he fondled her rounded breasts, exploring their firmness and shape, which he had dreamt about often, and moaned with pleasure as he appraised her shapely curves. He squeezed her breasts, rubbing the nipples with his thumb, and she began to pant at his touch. She grabbed his neck and pulled him closer into her kiss. His tongue slipped into her mouth and she moaned. The sound alone almost brought their interaction to an end, right then and there.

He lifted her into the air and she circled her legs around his waist, pulling him closer to her. He carried her up the stairs as he continued to kiss her, occasionally leaning her body against the walls when the unstoppable need to explore her body overcame him. They knocked over a dresser during their heat and a few vases shattered on the floor, which neither of them noticed.

Aleco laid her down on the mattress and leaned his body over her, loving the feel of her slender legs wrapped around his waist, begging him to enter her. His body shook at that thought alone. Everything he wanted to do with her was finally happening.

He broke their kiss and gazed at her breathtaking features, mesmerized by the glow of her green eyes and the curve of her wet lips as they remained slightly open, missing his absent kiss. He wanted to remember that moment for as long as he lived, even if nothing ever happened between them again.

With steady hands, she grabbed his shirt and pulled it from his muscled torso, rubbing her hands across his prominent chest and flat stomach. Her fingers unclasped his trousers and she yanked them free of his legs as he kicked them from his ankles. Then she grabbed the rim of his underwear and pulled him free of his concealment, then saw the intensity of his arousal. She reached her hand out and grabbed it for a moment, gently massaging the skin, even though he needed no further stimulation. He groaned with pleasure at her touch; she was better in the bedroom than any courtesan he ever had.

He grabbed her hand and pulled it away, not wanting their rendezvous to come to such a quick end. He removed her boots and pulled down her trousers as his eyes marveled at the sight of her exquisite legs. He kissed her inner thighs and her knees, and felt her shiver at his touch. He moved closer to the apex of her thighs, the source of her arousal. Foreplay was always the time he used to find his partner's pleasure zones, and he was quickly finding hers. He removed her shirt and tossed the thin fabric to the floor, and then removed her camisole underneath, leaving it at the edge of the bed. He caressed the hollow of her throat with kisses, ignoring the necklace she wore, then moved to her breasts where he gently sucked on her nipples. He could feel her heart flutter wildly in her chest. Finally, he removed her panties and dropped them to the floor. He stared at her naked body, hoarding the memory for future lonely nights, and admired how gorgeous she was. "You're beautiful," he whispered as he kissed her stomach and trailed his lips downward until he stopped at the middle of her thighs.

He kissed her most intimate places. She gripped his forearms and glided her fingers through his hair as she sighed with pleasure. Her moans grew louder as he savored her tender region with his tongue, and her pants grew heavy and labored as he continued to please her. She squeezed his arms with smashing force as she lost control, and he brought her into an intense climax that exploded through her body, like a flickering candle exploding into an inferno, something she hadn't thought possible. "Aleco," she moaned through the euphoria. "Gods," she cried.

The sound of his name almost made him lose control. He continued his ministrations until her breathing decreased, and he knew her moment had passed. He moved his lips to her mouth to kiss her then moved to her ear. "I'm not done with you yet," he whispered.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth to her own, kissing him with relish, moaning between the breaks of their embrace. He separated her thighs with this hand, and explored the source of her desire with his fingers, feeling the indication of female arousal.

She began to pant again as he felt her intimately, and she spread her legs further apart in welcome. She grabbed his hand to steady it, but he continued his momentum despite her moans of protest. She was on the verge of crying out in pleasure. "Aleco, I want you," she panted.

"This is me, dear."

"Please," she begged.

The intense arousal in her striking green eyes stopped his movements, and he moved his hands behind her back. He grasped her by the waist and elevated her off the bed, inserting himself within her slowly. She gasped at his entrance until he was completely within her. He watched her face glow in the heat of her desire, and she ran her hands down his chest, feeling his powerful body dominate her. He moved her to the head of the bed, and laid her head upon the pillow before he began to move within her. He plunged inside her slowly as he caressed her body gently, while moving his hands through her hair and kissing her lips. She opened her legs wider as she beckoned him to move faster and thrust harder, silently assuring him that he wasn't hurting her. His rhythm quickened and sweat fell down his chest in beads, splashing on her skin in the midst of their lovemaking. She gripped his back as she moaned loudly at the feel of him within her. He could feel her body tighten around him as she climaxed into another state of euphoria, and she cried his name loudly as she was overcome with pleasure.

The sound of his name being screamed from her lips again snapped his control. He released himself to the all-consuming pleasure of the moment and thrust himself deeply inside her, reaching his own climax. "Accacia," he moaned between his final thrusts. "Accacia," he cried again as he grabbed her hips and pulled himself fully into her. It was the most intense moment of pleasure he ever had.

His lips sought hers and he kissed her tenderly, attempting to express all his love for her in his embrace alone. She ran her hands through his hair and trickled her fingertips down his back, trying to make up for the savage way she grabbed him earlier.

"Are you alright?" he asked through his heavy breathing.

"Yes." She smiled.

He lay down beside her and cradled her lithe form in his arms. "You were right." He smiled and kissed her on the forehead. "That was exactly what I wanted."

"I can tell." She laughed.

"How was it for you?" He wasn't sure why he asked. It was obvious how it was for her, and he knew her body couldn't deceive him.

Her face reddened at his question. "I enjoyed it." She smiled.

"Good." He kissed her, staring at her for moment. She returned his gaze. He wanted to remember this feeling above all things, the feeling of pure joy. "You were my first, Accacia."

She raised an eyebrow. "How do you mean?"

"I've been with other women, but I've never made love to someone," he said. "Until now." He smiled.

"Me either," she replied. "Well, not with women though." She laughed.

He laughed in return.

"In many ways, you are my first, Aleco. You are the first man I voluntarily slept with."

The gesture touched his heart. He knew she loved him. Any doubt he had evaporated with her words. "I'm honored, Accacia," he said as he held her hand to his heart. He hugged her to his chest and enjoyed the feel of her naked skin against his own. Just the thought of her unconcealed form underneath the sheets was enough to awaken his arousal again.

She turned away from his embrace. "I should go," she said.

Aleco's heart fell from his chest. He didn't want this to end. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back to bed. "You said I had the whole evening," he lied. She never actually said those words, but he thought he might persuade her to believe she had.

She smiled at his attempt. "I want to return before Father Giloth wonders where I am and comes searching for me. Can you imagine how awkward that would be?"

"I think the news would please him," he said.

She shook her head. "He definitely wouldn't be pleased with you."

"Not if I truly cared for you, respected you, and loved you, which I do—all the above," he said. "The idea of the two people he loves most finding happiness in each other after the hell they've been through would make him happy, Accacia."

Accacia was mute to his words.

"Besides, he is going to find out anyway," he said.

She flashed him a look of anger. "You wouldn't dare," she snapped.

Aleco laughed at her venom. Even in her anger, she was adorable. "I wouldn't tell him anything, Accacia, but you are forgetting an important aspect of Father Giloth. As a Nature Priest, he knows everything that happens in his grounds—everything." Accacia covered her blushing face with her hands, and Aleco laughed at the attempt to hide her shame. "The forest will tell him of the lovemaking and where it came from. He can piece it together," he said.

"Why didn't you say something?" she asked.

"I thought you knew." He laughed. "Accacia, you are a grown woman, and a stunning one at that. He isn't going to judge you for fulfilling your biological needs. You are no different than the creatures of this forest."

"This can't be happening," she said into the pillow. "That means he's going to know—about— stuff." Her face turned a deeper shade of red.

"Such as?" he teased her.

"The way you made me—feel," she whispered.

"That I made you orgasm—twice?"

She hit him in the face with a pillow, and he laughed at the childish gesture. They were having an amateur pillow fight while discussing an adult euphoria. It made him smile. "There isn't a thing you can do about it now, so just let it go," he said. "You may as well stay."

"Well, it can't happen again, anyway."

"Why?"

"I don't want him to know about that as well," she said.

"Accacia, he isn't going to know how many times we did it," he said. "Just that it happened. How can doing it again make you feel any more shame?"

"You just want to make love again," she accused him.

He dropped his smile, and his eyes turned serious. "Yes, I do."

He rolled on top of her and began kissing her. Initially her body was stiff and uncooperative, her mind focused on Father Giloth, he knew. So he changed the subject of her thoughts, by touching her in all the places he knew she loved. Eventually, she was panting for him. She rolled her body astride his and straddled his hips, riding him until she reached her climax. Aleco followed her immediately afterwards, gripping her hips for the entire ride.

Aleco woke the moment she moved from his arms. She got up and searched for the clothes that had been flung all over the room the night before. Aleco watched in misery as she dressed, wishing she wouldn't go. The sun hadn't even risen yet. "Stay for breakfast," he encouraged. "I'll cook."

She made a disgusted look at his offer.

"I'm not that bad." He laughed.

She giggled and it was the most beautiful sound he ever heard. He rose from the bed and kissed her passionately, enjoying the last moment he could claim her as his own. She returned his embrace with equal intensity then pulled away. Aleco sighed and got dressed, then walked her to the door.

He opened the door for her and silently begged her not to walk through it. As soon as she did, his fantasy would be over. She saw the hurt on his face and she hugged him, kissing his lips and cheeks. He wanted to confess the depth of his feelings, but decided against it. It would only make her uncomfortable. "I'll go with you," he offered. "I haven't been to the house in so long."

She stopped him. "Perhaps that isn't the best idea," she said. "After last night, I don't know how he'll react."

"Damn, Accacia, we aren't children," he said. "I think it's better to get it over with together."

She sighed. "Okay."

Asylinth House

29

They strolled across the grass until they approached the secret doorway for Aleco's personal use. He opened the door for her, allowing her to walk through first. They entered the study and found Father Giloth sipping his morning tea. Topography graphs of the forest covered his desk along with farming reports from the Naturalists. They detailed the life expectancy of the various plants and the elemental composition of the soil in certain areas, allowing Father Giloth to determine which soil patches were more fertile for plant life. He looked up from his tea. "Good morning to both of you, and a good morning it is," he said. "Can I get you some tea?"

"Yes, please," Accacia replied.

"I will take some as well, thank you," Aleco said.

Father Giloth stared at him in astonishment. The only drink he accepted was brandy, unless something better was on hand, and his polite manners were unparalleled. Aleco smiled at his surprised expression.

Father Giloth gathered two additional cups and filled them with tea. The Nature Priest knew Accacia hadn't returned all evening. She still wore the same clothes as the night before, and her hair was still in disarray. Even if the Loriuen Tree hadn't notified Father Giloth of the intimate interaction, he would have suspected it. It was obvious. The Nature Priest was a bit uncomfortable by the revelation, but not surprised. "You both slept well, I can see."

Accacia's face blushed crimson.

Aleco smiled like a giddy idiot. "Yes, we did," Aleco answered.

"I am very happy for both of you," Father Giloth said.

"Thank you," Aleco said with a smile.

Father Giloth stared at him in shock. He hadn't seen a genuine smile in years. His nephew was obviously delighted by the experience. The Nature Priest was pleased with Aleco's good mood. He hadn't seen him so happy since he was a child. "Since you are both here, I need to address some matters with each of you. First of all, I studied the mineral rock you gave me when you arrived, Aleco, and I found some unusual properties within the stone. It seems to be similar to your Soul Catcher, but its dimensions and material differ slightly. I suspect they have the same origins. Also, it is the same material that comprises the palace walls in Roslyn, but how the material was harvested, I have no clue."

Aleco's mind flashed back to the day he and Accacia traveled within Roslyn, which seemed like a lifetime ago, when they were mere strangers. Devry mentioned the mineral and the Chief's interest in it, but he refused to elaborate further on its purpose. Aleco recalled the Chief's offer of immortality when he was in the Vast. Somehow Aleco knew the stones were connected in the two events. "They can stop death, slow it, or prevent it in some way," Aleco said. "I don't know how."

Accacia looked at him, surprised. Father Giloth stared too. "How do you know this?" Father Giloth asked.

Aleco explained the two encounters and their relationship. Accacia listened to the story without comment. Aleco saw the emerald flames extinguish in her eyes, and knew she was offended that he'd withheld the information from her. It wasn't because he didn't trust her. He just wanted to avoid additional questions about his conversation with the Chief, which did include information he wanted to withhold from her.

"Why would the Chief impart such important information to you if he planned to execute you?" Father Giloth asked.  
"The Chief offered to vindicate my crimes and reinstate me into the guild by enticing me with the promise of immortality," he said. "He dangled it in front of me like I was a hungry dog waiting for a biscuit."

"Why didn't you take it, Aleco?" Accacia asked. "You had no idea if we were going to escape."

Aleco was annoyed by her question. He didn't want to answer it. "I just didn't want to," he said. "Let's drop it." Accacia stared at him, but Aleco said nothing more. She knew there was more to this story, but respected his request and bottled her curiosity. Aleco sighed at her retreat; he was expecting an argument.

Father Giloth placed his fingertips against his lips and organized his thoughts in silence. He withdrew one of the stones from his drawer and set it on the desk where they all could see it.

Accacia grabbed the stone and ran her fingertips across its surface, exploring the texture of the gem along with its cuts and dimensions. The stone felt surprisingly light in her palm, weightless, like a blank sheet of parchment. She threw it to the ground, expecting it to break, but it remained intact. The surface was completely unscathed. Amused, Aleco watched her play with the rock like a child's block. "Can I have a different stone?" she asked as she extended her hand to Father Giloth.

He withdrew another stone and dropped it into her palm. This stone was disfigured with serrated edges and jagged surfaces, not smooth and shiny like the other one. Accacia noticed the weight of the gem; it was very heavy. The two stones were identical in size, but this one weighed as much as a pail full of water.

"Well?" Aleco asked.

Accacia ignored him and examined the heavier stone. She closed her eyes and absorbed the feel of the gem, trying to determine what set it apart from the lighter stone. She jumped when a jolt of electricity ran through her body, and gazed at the startling image of a singular eye staring back at her from the center of the stone. It disappeared as quickly as it came. She felt Aleco's hand on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" he asked with a voice full of concern.

"Did you see that?" she asked him.

Aleco was worried by her peculiar behavior. Perhaps she was just exhausted from their night of lovemaking. The thought pleased him. "See what?" he asked.

"There was an eye in the stone," she said.

Aleco felt the temperature of her forehead with the back of his hand. She pushed it away. "I'm not hallucinating," she said. "I know what I saw. It was a single blue eye and it flashed across the surface of the stone then disappeared."

Aleco and Father Giloth exchanged worried glances.

Accacia sighed in frustration. "Here." She handed Aleco the stone. "Just hold it for a while." She grabbed the other stone and dropped the gem in his other palm. "Do you notice the difference?"

Aleco could see no physical anomalies other than their different shapes and varying textures. The only difference between the two stones was the weight. One was certainly heavier than the other. "They have different weights," he observed.

"Yes," she said. She took the lighter stone away and let him keep the other.

"Now what?" he asked.

"Just wait," she said.

Several unremarkable minutes went by with no change. Father Giloth said nothing at the transaction and waited patiently for Accacia to make her point. Aleco was growing irritated with the charade. He thought she hit her head on something, perhaps the headboard. "Accacia, nothing is happening," he said.

Defeated, she sighed. "You do believe me, don't you?"

"I believe you think you really saw the image."

Accacia reached for the stone to yank it out of his grasp. When her fingers touched the surface, the eye reappeared. Aleco dropped the gem in astonishment. Accacia grabbed the stone from the floorboards, but it was too late. The eye was already gone.

"Please tell me you saw that?"

"Actually, I did," he said. The flashing image shook his composition. The picture itself wasn't frightful, but it transmitted a feeling of pain and loss so deep it felt akin to losing your life's love. He looked at Accacia. "What was that?"

"I have no idea," she whispered. Her body still stung from the first electric spasm, and the second one caused her arm to twitch in pain. "Did you feel the shock?"

"No," he said. "Did you feel complete and utter despair?"

"No."

Father Giloth finally spoke. "Accacia, place the stone upon the table and walk towards me."

Accacia did as she was told and stood next to the old man. He grasped the stone within his hand then instructed Accacia to touch it. Her fingers barely grazed the stone when the image appeared along with the shock, and Father Giloth felt the flood of depression Aleco described. He returned the stone to the counter.

"What are your thoughts, old man?" Aleco asked.

"I don't know what to make of it," he said as he pressed his fingertips to his lips.

Accacia returned to her seat and sipped her tea in silence, pondering the significance of the event. She thought of the eye within the image and realized it wasn't exactly the typical eye of a human. The lines of the eye were slightly exaggerated, similar to the shape of her eyes, which were unusual for a human.

The line of electricity shocked her body, but made her feel a connection to the stone, like a handhold on your wrist from someone trying to grab your attention. The stone flooded with the color blue, deep like the middle of the ocean, and set the stone in a beautiful hue. She compared the two stones and wondered what their difference meant. It was almost like the heavier stone was alive, while the other died or was never born. It was odd. She didn't experience the intense despair Aleco described, but the all-consuming need to attract her focus.

Father Giloth's words shattered her focus. "I will research this. I don't understand the meaning of this, but I assure you, I will find the answer," he said. "Aleco, does the guild know of your association with either me or the forest?"

"No, not at all," he said.

"Good," he said. "I'm certain they are displeased with your actions. They will hunt you for a very long time, Aleco. The elemental power of the forest will conceal the stones within the border and protect its existence from those who should have no knowledge of it." The Nature Priest knew the mysterious gems would be safe as long as no one entered the forest. When Drake found out the guild lost his precious stones, he would be furious. He would never stop searching for both Accacia and the stones until they were found. "Let's hope Drake doesn't suspect their hiding place."

"That could complicate things," Aleco said.

The Nature Priest nodded. "Drake is already incredibly powerful; his influence is stretching to every realm. It won't be long until the Continent is unified under one leader, under one king, and I have a feeling there is only one candidate for the position."

"An alliance where Drake is the sole king and sovereign is a nation I would recede from," Aleco spat. "I would enlist as a Naturalist and hide under your protection."

"Unfortunately, if these events come to pass there will be no forest to find escape in."

"What do you mean, 'no forest?'" Accacia asked.

"Drake will burn it to the ground," he said. "With me included. That's why he is waiting to gather the allegiance of all the armies of the Continent before he challenges me. I cannot possibly protect the entire forest against two hundred thousand soldiers."

"Why would he do such a thing? We can't let that happen," she cried. "There must be something we can do. It's not just about the protection of the forest, but the people of the entire Continent. When he comes into power, he'll behead someone simply because they are breathing the same air as he."

Father Giloth didn't respond to Accacia's emotional words. He couldn't tell her the truth; that Drake wanted to punish him for his opposition, both in retrieving Accacia and the crown to the Continent. He wished he could comfort her, but found no words that could be strung together without being a lie. They were doomed. The once flourishing Continent would be trampled under that man's boot.

Father Giloth knew he was running out of time. There were many things he hid from his adopted daughter, and he knew it was time to confide in her. Now that Aleco was by her side, as her friend and partner, he knew it was right. "There is something you need to know, Accacia. I have waited a very long time to speak of this to you, mostly because this information will only hurt you, but I can't wait any longer," the old man said.

Accacia looked at him and nodded. She already knew what Father Giloth was going to reveal. She hoped she would survive the tale.

"Do you mind if Aleco is present? Personally, I prefer that he is."

She nodded again and braced herself for the impact. Accacia wanted to tell Father Giloth she would rather not know, but she steeled her resolve and said nothing. She had to know the truth.

Father Giloth stared at her for a moment before he spoke. He knew this information would haunt her nightmares for the rest of her life. "Your mother and father were traveling past my border, carrying a very powerful weapon, toward the center of the Continent when they were killed. They were invited to these lands under the establishment of peace, but they were betrayed," he said. "Rather than honoring the agreement of a non-violent transgression, the ambassadors and their small army were annihilated—you were the only survivor."

Accacia closed her eyes and forced the tears back. She wished she wasn't the only survivor—she wished she hadn't survived at all. She spent most of her life as a slave to a lunatic—a life not worth living anyway. After Accacia filtered through her emotions of their deaths, she focused on Father Giloth's words. They were invited to these lands. She didn't have a clue what that meant.

Father Giloth continued. "The weapon stolen from your parents, the Aqua Stone, has the ability to move, change, and evaporate large bodies of water from any medium. It was used to destroy your island and its inhabitants in a tsunami that completely drowned the land," he said. "The death of the entire race ensured no further retaliation."

His words hung in her mind and echoed through her thoughts, breaking her resolve as she collapsed in tears. Her entire race and their home had disappeared beneath the waves. She wasn't just the sole survivor of her family—but of her whole race.

Aleco wrapped his arms around her and calmed her breathing. He ran his hands through her hair and whispered words of comfort until the sobs trickled to a controlled cry. Father Giloth watched Aleco in surprise. He had never seen him be so gentle, even with the plants he attended to in his youth.

Accacia exhaled deeply before she asked the question on her mind. "Where did they come from?" Accacia had no knowledge of her lineage, but she didn't expect to be from any exotic place since the Continent was the only land in the known world.

"The secret code I taught you, the one we write, speak, and communicate with in delicate situations, is the language of the Asquith, an ancient race of people I spoke of on a few occasions. I chose to impart this knowledge to you because you are descended from that race. In fact, you are Asquithian. Your family was from the land of Asylinth, making you one of its members. Your mother and father had a prominent role in their complicated government, and volunteered as ambassadors to come to this continent and establish ties, in the hope they would be welcomed to live with the humans of the Continent."

Accacia had never expected such a revelation. She had felt a connection to the Asquith people, agreeing with their spiritual viewpoints, the ones Orgoom Forest worshipped, and their respect of their fellow creatures, but she never expected a genetic tie to them. The more she thought about it, the less surprise she felt. She knew her features were slightly different than the humans of the Continent, with prominent angled features in her eyes and cheekbones. Her lithe body was petite and slight in stature, smaller than the average female human. Her skin was a shade darker than the rest of the populace, like the glow of summer touched her skin throughout the year, and she always felt cold—always. She wondered if she came from a warmer climate.

"When the ambassadors and the army were attacked, somehow you ran from the carnage and into the woods, landing in my arms. I immediately recognized you for what you were, having knowledge of the meeting beforehand. I took you in and kept you hidden from the world. When Drake stumbled into my lands one afternoon and spotted you in the field, I assumed he recognized your ethnicity, but obviously that wasn't so."

"Why would he recognize me?"

Father Giloth lowered his gaze to the floor. He knew his following words would cause her the most pain. The Nature Priest wished he could lie to her. "Drake is the one who killed them."

Accacia felt the hot tears fall down her face and soak her lips. She wiped them away with the sleeve of her shirt, but they continued to pour down her cheeks. Drake had destroyed her entire world, first stealing her freedom, killing her child, and then murdering her family, along with her entire race. Father Giloth watched the tears streak down her face. He hated having to reveal these disturbing words, but she needed to hear them. He had spared her as long as possible, but he couldn't drag it out any longer.

Accacia looked down at her knotted hands and fought back the tears. She had always wanted to know how they met their end, and now that the time was here, she didn't want to hear it. Aleco held her hand within his own and squeezed it. Drake had also killed his parents, so he understood her feelings more than anyone else. Now she knew why Father Giloth had waited to tell her.

Accacia stood up and wiped her tears. "Please excuse me," she said as she walked to her bedroom. "I need a moment."

Father Giloth and Aleco could hear her cries even from her bedroom. Aleco's body burned with hatred when he thought of his disturbed twin. He thought he couldn't hate that fiend more than he already did, but he was wrong about that; hatred had an infinite value. Father Giloth pressed his fingertips to his lips and closed his eyes.

Aleco didn't know if he should follow her. He wanted to comfort her, but he didn't know if she wanted company. Whenever Aleco struggled with an emotion or dilemma, he never wanted to be bothered—until now. He would prefer Accacia by his side. Aleco wondered if she felt the same.

Aleco dropped his face into his palms. "Damn," Aleco said. He thought about what she must be feeling and knew it was scarring enough to break her soul. There was a lot of disturbing information to take in at once. He wondered why Father Giloth knew so much about the event. He had never confided any of it to Aleco. "How do you know all of this? How could you possibly know he drowned their world? Drake would never confide that information to anyone."

"I just do," he said noncommittally.

Aleco thought about the lore of the stones of the universe. They were created by the ancient Asquith people, but were lost over time. Aleco knew a group of Asquithians had settled on the Continent to escape the battles plaguing their own island, but due to continental drift and the passage of time, they evolved into the humans they are today. The ancient stones were lost with no records of their whereabouts in existence. No one knew of their location. They were practically a myth.

Father Giloth told Aleco stories of their power in his youth, that they had the ability to destroy the earth in volcanic fire, erasing earth from existence. Father Giloth said the disappearance of the stones was a blessing; the Asquith people never should have made them to begin with. Drake's possession of even one stone was a death sentence. It explained the severe dryness of Morkarh and their empty fountains.

"What are the other stones again?" Aleco asked.

"There is the Fire Stone, the Time Stone, the Death Stone, and the fifth one is the Prescient Stone," he said.

"Do you think he has the remaining four?" Aleco asked.

"No," he said. "If he did, we would know. We wouldn't be here to discuss it." His meaning hung heavy in the air.

"Do you know where they are?" Aleco asked.

Father Giloth took a long sip of his tea before he spoke. "I think you should check on Accacia," he said. "I'm worried about her."

Father Giloth was right. Aleco shouldn't be concerned about any of the things out of his control. He should be concerned with what was in his control, which was Accacia.

Aleco walked up the stairs and knocked on her bedroom door. He heard her sobs through the wooden doorway, but she didn't respond to his announcement. He entered the room and found her lying on the bedspread, hugging a pillow to her chest. Aleco closed the door and approached the bed, sitting at the foot of the mattress. He removed his boots, crawled alongside her, and hugged her body next to his. She didn't object to his closeness, even though their physical relationship was over. He kissed her on the forehead and ran his hand through her silky locks, an attempt to calm her heaving sobs. He kissed the tears dripping from her eyes and held her close in silence. He had nothing to say, nothing worth saying at least. He held her to his chest until she stopped crying and fell asleep.

Aleco watched her sleep for an hour. Her eyes finally opened and she grinned at the sight of his face next to hers. It made his heart melt, as it always did when she flashed him that perfect smile. He cupped her face with his hands and his thumb rested on her lips. He wanted to kiss her, but she made it clear that was no longer appropriate, so he forced himself to remain in control. The last thing he wanted was to upset her in this time of despair. For the first time in his life, he wasn't being selfish. "Would you like to be alone?" he asked.

"Not particularly," she said as she squeezed his hand.

"Are you ready to go back downstairs?"

"I suppose."

Aleco wanted to dispel the agony he knew she was feeling. It was a pain he had carried his entire life. "Would you like to go on a walk through the forest?" he asked.

"That sounds lovely." She smiled. "But I should probably stay inside as often as possible since the soldiers are patrolling the area."

Aleco felt like an idiot. Instead of cheering her up, he reminded her of the man who was hunting her. He lifted her from the bed, and they walked down the stairs and back into the study. Father Giloth was staring at the stone on his desk when they entered.

"I apologize for my departure," she said. "I just needed a moment to gather my bearings."

"Not at all," Father Giloth encouraged her. "I can only imagine what you must be feeling." Accacia nodded. Aleco grabbed her hand within his own, and she squeezed it in return.

"There is one more thing I need to tell you, Accacia," the Nature Priest said. Accacia's eyes dropped to the ground and she sighed deeply. She didn't know how much more she could take. "But I promise this will be the least painful, and may even give you a sense of hope."

Accacia met his gaze. "What is it?"

"There is a smaller island adjacent to the destroyed one of the Asquith people, and it is populated with survivors of the catastrophe. I hope it brings you comfort knowing you are not the sole survivor of your race."

"That's wonderful." She smiled. He was right, it did give her hope, however slim it was.

"I know where it's located if you ever wish to travel there."

"I would love to go there someday," she said.

"I assumed you would."

They sat together in silence. Accacia looked down at Aleco's calloused hand as he held her own. His thumb brushed along the blue veins of her wrist. The knowledge that she wasn't the only survivor of such a marvelous race dulled the ache in her heart, but it couldn't erase the unbearable pain she felt at the loss of her parents. Her experience with the duke would have been much different if she had known this information beforehand. She wondered if Father Giloth withheld it for that reason alone, but then she realized that was impossible. She would have killed the duke or died trying, probably the latter, if she had known he was the man responsible for their deaths. She couldn't believe that she had carried his unborn child. Vomit flooded to her mouth as she reflected on the past. Accacia wanted nothing more than to kill him—he deserved to die.

Aleutian Keep

30

"Is there anything else you need, sire?"

"No," the duke answered. "You may go. We leave at sunrise."

"Very good, sire." The chamberlain closed the door behind him. The duke was leaving for Roslyn the next morning, where he expected to be appointed to the throne. Everything was going as planned; nothing could stop him.

Drake looked around his empty bedchamber. His only company was the smoldering coals in the dying fire. The sofa still held Accacia's imprint where she sat before the fire, reading a book from his magnificent library. A slight indent lined the cushion where her behind had marked its existence in the cotton, the only evidence that she was ever there. The duke walked over and sat in her usual seat but still felt her absence. He had fulfilled his life's ambitions and he should feel elated at the accomplishment, except he wasn't. There was only one thing on his mind.

Drake spotted a leather bound book lying on the table before him. It was the last book she read. He grabbed the novel and opened it, hoping a piece of her essence was within the pages. When he did, a small book fell from between the parchment sheets and dropped into his lap.

There was no title to the book. He flipped through the pages and realized it wasn't a novel, but a journal—Accacia's diary. He turned to the last page and began to read.

I have nothing further to add to my tale. Every day is as unremarkable as the previous. The only moments I look forward to are getting a new book from the library and the maid's visit, where I can ask her about the city and its inhabitants. If I'm lucky, and he is away, she lets me help her clean the room. Dali is wonderful with a beautiful smile. She tells me about her children, and I can't help but feel envy for her life. She may be a maid, a mere peasant, but she has choices. I don't, nor will I ever. I have nothing else to say. I fear I never will again.

Drake flipped the pages to the middle of the journal.

I had the worst nightmare. I couldn't recall it completely, it came in flashes and breaks, but I remember his hands around my throat. He squeezed tightly, restricting my windpipe until I couldn't breathe. The blackness descended, and I knew the end was near. Instead of fear coursing through my body, the fear of my impending death, I felt happiness. I was finally going to die—finally, I would be free of him. I woke from the nightmare drenched in my sweat. I looked over and saw Drake sleeping undisturbed. He wore a smile on his face that almost looked innocent—almost. The happiness I felt disappeared and was replaced by a flood of despair. I wish it wasn't a dream—I wish it was real.

Drake closed the journal and returned it to the table. He didn't want to read any more. He ran his hands through his hair the way Accacia used to, but it didn't feel the same. Fear gripped his body—he didn't know if he would ever find her.

He rose from the couch and approached the dying embers of the hearth. He reached his hand up the chimney and tapped along the bricks until he felt the nook he had inserted in the column. He finally felt the familiar texture of the tablet and withdrew it from its hiding spot—the Aqua Stone. He held the square gem in his hands and appraised the surface. He had searched for the remaining stones, but had been unsuccessful in his attempts. He suspected they were hidden beyond his reach.

He was thankful he possessed at least one stone, even at the cost of an entire civilization, and he hoped he would come across the remaining four. He knew he would be around long enough to find them eventually. The idea of immortality stung when he thought of Accacia; she didn't have her own gem. If she died, she would be gone—forever. He had to find her before it was too late.

Orgoom Forest

31

Aleco escorted Accacia to her bedroom. "You know where to find me if you need anything," he said outside her door. "I understand if you want to be alone."

She smiled at him, but he noticed her smile only lifted her lips, and not her eyes. "Will you be moving back then?" she asked as she nodded to the bedchamber across the hall.

"No," he said. "I prefer Asylinth Cottage. I can drink my liquor in peace without being scolded by the two of you." She laughed at his joke, and he was happy to see some color return to her cheeks. Her face had been as pale as a cold morning the entire day. "Good night," he said.

"Good night."

Aleco left the house and trekked through the snow to his temporary home in the distance. Even though the purpose of the cottage was to accommodate heads of state and certain worthy sovereigns, Aleco enjoyed the luxury of having it to himself. Yes, he would like to be closer to Accacia, a lot closer, but since he couldn't have her the way he wanted, he knew it was best to keep his distance. Now that he had made love to her, he was worried he wouldn't stop until he was with her again. He forced the idea out of his mind. After a drink, he crawled into bed and stared into the dancing flames of his bedroom hearth to reflect on the events of the day, most of which he didn't understand.

He heard the creak of the floorboards in the parlor at the bottom of the stairs, and it caused him to jump. He was certain he had locked the door. Aleco grabbed his guildsmen sword from the weapons rack in his bedroom and withdrew it from his scabbard. He opened the bedroom door and peeked down the stairs. He saw a hooded figure ascend the staircase, but he couldn't distinguish any features. He stepped away from the door with his blade held at the ready.

The figure walked into the room and turned towards Aleco. Aleco recognized Accacia's frightened face, and he immediately dropped the weapon to the ground, silently berating himself for assuming it would be anyone else.

Her beautiful features relaxed as he dropped his defensive stance and relaxed his shoulders. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you," she whispered. He stood practically naked, only wearing his undershorts in the freezing night.

Aleco laughed. "No, I apologize," he said. "I shouldn't have assumed any hostility would enter these words. I'm just used to being on my guard at all times."

"I understand," she said. She dropped her cloak and approached the fire, warming her hands by the heat of the flames. Aleco crawled into bed and leaned his back against the headboard while he stared at her by the fire. He didn't know why she was there, but he hoped it would require the removal of her clothes.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked.

"No, thank you," she said without turning away from the fire. He laid his head on the pillow and closed his eyes. After a few moments, Aleco discerned the sound of clothes being dropped to the floor, and his heart quickened with excitement. He felt the sag of the mattress as she slid under the sheets and moved closer to him. He could feel her bare skin against his thigh and her rounded breast against his arm, but he forced himself to remain in control. He reached around her waist and squeezed her against his chest. She sighed happily as he embraced her with the warmth of his body. He opened his eyes and saw her stare at him.

"Accacia, you can't lay in this bed with me, completely naked, and expect me to treat you like a friend," he said. He placed his forehead against hers and cupped her face with his large hand. "So I suggest you put some clothes on."

Accacia pulled his face to hers and kissed him. She caressed his lips with her own and parted his lips with her tongue, swirling around his own slowly. He groaned with pleasure, as he always did with her. She knew his pleasure zones, too. She ran her hands through his hair and twisted the short strands within her fingers, then glided her fingers to his back and massaged the large muscles covering his flank.

She stayed in bed for an hour before she decided to visit Aleco. Accacia reflected on their night together, how gentle and loving it felt, a completely different experience than any she had with Drake. Sex was always an unexciting routine activity she did with him because she was forced to. Sometimes her body would betray her and give in to her biological needs, reaching a state of euphoria, but it was nothing like with Aleco. With him, she wanted more.

She pulled Aleco on top of her and felt his arousal pressed against her abdomen. She grabbed him firmly and watched Aleco's breathing grow deep and shallow as she rubbed him the right way. He groaned as her strokes increased in speed. Soon, his body began to shake, and he stopped her hand in mid-stroke before it was too late.

"I know what you're doing," he growled. He inserted himself within her slowly. She grabbed his hips and pulled him deep inside her until she completely sheathed him, and she moaned when she felt him within her. Aleco's eyes widened in surprise at her enthusiasm, and he forced himself to be gentle rather than moving as fast as he wanted to. She rocked her hips below and quickened his speed from underneath him. Rather than fight his attempt to be gentle, he let himself go and thrust himself inside her repeatedly. He felt her body constrict around him. Her moans grew louder as he continued to make love to her, and she whispered his name as she kissed his lips. She began to shout his name as she reached her climax. After her moment passed, her moans trickled down to quiet sighs as he continued to please her. He wanted to pleasure her again, but he couldn't hold on any longer. She just looked too beautiful underneath him, loving the feel of him inside her, calling his name in her bliss. He released himself within her and she pulled him deeper inside her. She whispered his name into his ear as he climaxed and moaned with unbridled indulgence.

"Are you okay?" he asked, as he lay down beside her. The worry always plagued his mind. Aleco never wanted to be responsible for causing her any form of pain.

"Yes," she reassured him. "I will tell you if it hurts, Aleco." She smiled mischievously. "And believe me, it doesn't."

"Good." He smiled.

He cradled her into his arms and listened to the pop of the flames from the hearth. Her soft breaths fell upon his chest, and she sighed in comfort. Aleco wanted to know what this meant for their relationship. Was this going to be a regular activity? Was he her lover? Aleco kept his questions to himself, for fear it would ruin the evening. Besides, he knew she had more pressing topics on her mind.

Accacia looked into his face. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," he said.

"Really?" she asked, touched by his openness with her.

"Of course," he said. "I trust you more than anyone. Go ahead."

Accacia was astounded by Aleco's behavior. He had changed so much since they first met. In fact, she had loathed the man in their first interaction. He continually annoyed her, hurt her feelings, and even deserted her, but now he was her closest friend. When Accacia rejected his affection, he completely changed to the man she had initially met. However, when they were intimate, he was so tender. The startling differences amazed her. Aleco ran his hands through her hair and kissed her forehead while he waited for her to ask her question; she had many. "Have you ever been with a prostitute?" she asked hesitantly. It wouldn't change their physical relationship, but she was still interested if he had.

Aleco avoided her gaze. "Yes," he admitted.

"How many?" she asked.

"How many times did I sleep with a prostitute? Or how many prostitutes?" The edge in his voice betrayed his shame. He was very uncomfortable with the conversation. The fact he answered her questions at all displayed his trust in her.

"How many prostitutes?" she asked.

"Six," he answered. He finally looked at her. "Does that change anything?"

"No, of course it doesn't," she said. Aleco breathed a sigh of relief at her words. He was terrified of her possible reaction. "I was just curious. You are very experienced."

"So are you," he noted, though he knew the circumstances were very different.

"Can I ask you something else?" she said as she held him tighter.

"Yes, ask away," he encouraged.

"Have you ever been with a woman who wasn't a prostitute?"

"None, besides you," he answered.

She nodded. She considered herself to be in the same situation, not that Drake was a prostitute, but she wasn't able to find her own relationships to engage in. She assumed Aleco was in the same predicament.

"Did you feel anything for these women?"

"What do you mean? Like love?"

"Yes," she replied.

"No." He sighed. "I was fond of some of them. I was comfortable and compatible with a few. I didn't abuse them like the other men did, so they preferred me as a customer." Aleco looked at her. "Can I ask you something?"

She thought about his request for a moment. She certainly trusted him, and didn't want to hurt his feelings by not reciprocating his confidence, but she was nervous about what he wanted to know. He saw the apprehension in her eyes.

"Forget I asked," he said.

"No," she said. "You can ask me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she assured him.

"Did you enjoy—being with Drake?"

It was exactly the question she didn't want him to ask, but maybe it was best if she talked about it with someone. Before then, she never had. "No," she said. "Most of the time it was violent, painful, and meaningless. Sometimes my body would behave naturally to his movements, but the experience was never pleasant. Making love with you is nothing like the sex I had with him."

Aleco nodded. He knew how hard that was for her to answer. "Thank you for answering my question."

Her mind drifted back to the conversation earlier that evening, and she asked what she couldn't at the time. "Why didn't you accept the Chief's offer? There was no way you could have known we would escape."

Aleco released his hold on Accacia's waist and rubbed his temple. He wanted to answer this question even less than the others. "The Chief promised me I would be reinstated within the guild and my life would be spared. Yes, he offered me the chance of immortality, but when I asked if you would be released if I agreed, he said you wouldn't. I couldn't rejoin the guild and support the monsters who returned you to your living nightmare," he said. "So I chose death. Besides, I have no desire to live forever, or live period, for that matter."

Accacia stared at him. "Would you have accepted it if I didn't exist?" she asked.

"If you didn't exist, I wouldn't have been stuck there to begin with."

"Aleco?" she pressured him.

"Yes," he said. "I probably would have."

She stared at him for a few moments. He turned down the certainty of life in favor of returning to her, along with the uncertainty of escape. His choice baffled her. Aleco was a man she considered innately selfish, but he had risked his life to save her—again. She felt even worse for rejecting his love after what he had sacrificed for her.

Aleco returned her stare and prepared for the worst. The story was basically a confession of his undying love for her, and he was certain the knowledge would push her away. He hoped she was too stupid or ignorant to figure it out.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him gently, cupping his cheek with her fingers. The loving gesture tugged at his heart, and he was delighted the revelation hadn't scared her away, but that she loved him in the same way. He ended their embrace and pulled her to his chest.

She buried her face in the crook of his neck and ran her fingers gently down his arm. Aleco had never felt so happy, so alive, as he did when he was lying next to her, sitting in silence, and listening to the sound of her steady breaths.

"Your mother was beautiful," she whispered.

Aleco flinched slightly at her words. This was the first time they had discussed what she saw in the Soul Catcher on that horrific afternoon. The involuntary spasm caused her heartbeat to quicken in fear, anticipating the same wrath he displayed that day. That she even mentioned it demonstrated her trust for him, leaving herself so vulnerable in his possible wake.

He thought back to the day his parents were killed. It was the worst day of his life by far. He remembered the event so vividly, the way his mother smiled at him as death crept into her veins, and the stiff paralysis of his father's corpse on the far side of the bed. He could feel death hanging in the room. Tears crept into his eyes at the memory. Even after all this time, he had done nothing to avenge their deaths. He had led the life of a criminal, stealing from those who are less fortunate, forcing slaves into servitude, killing innocents—all acts his parents would be ashamed of. He was worthless.

Aleco steadied his breathing and controlled the stinging burn behind his eyes, the accumulation of tears waiting to be released. Accacia noticed the subtle change in his body; the change in the rise of his chest at the expansion of his lungs, and the quiet gasps escaping his voice. She pulled away and looked at him, the red tint of his eyes betrayed his hidden suffering, and the sight tugged at her heart. She kissed the corner of his eyes and felt the moisture on her lips.

"Thank you," he said. Aleco blinked back the tears and his emotions returned to a state of calm. Having Accacia in his life numbed the pain substantially. The nightmares disappeared completely and allowed him to sleep for more than a few hours at a time, without the supplemental use of a plant remedy. With Accacia alongside him, day or night, the pain wasn't so unbearable, and he found a reason to continue living. She had no idea how much she meant to him.

"I apologize for upsetting you," she whispered.

He grabbed her hand and kissed it. "You didn't," he said. "You're right. My mother was very beautiful."

"Yes, she was." Accacia smiled. "I'm so sorry."

"Thank you," he said.

"What was she like? If you don't mind discussing it," she added.

"Selfless," he said quickly. "If I had to describe her in one word, it would be selfless; she was innately selfless."

Accacia smiled as she listened to him speak of his mother so highly.

"I used to be afraid of the dark," he said. "My bedroom shadows would twist before my eyes, forming evil demons who wanted to tear out my soul with their massive teeth. I saw them lurk through my room as the night progressed and the moon moved through the sky. I was so frightened, I hardly slept." Aleco's eyes glazed over as he relived the memory in his mind. His thumb caressed Accacia's hand as he reflected on his childhood. She smiled, encouraging him to continue.

"At breakfast, my head would fall into my eggs as sleep overtook me. At least in the bright sun of the terrace, with my family beside me, I knew those demons couldn't get to me, so my bodily needs won and I fell into unconsciousness.

"My parents were concerned with my unusual behavior. They questioned me, but I kept the secret to myself. They instructed the midwives to attend to me with herbs and remedies, warding off a sickness I didn't have. I said nothing as they fretted over my well-being. I could never tell them the truth. Drake would tease me mercilessly, and my father would berate me for such childish fears, stating a future duke to the throne couldn't possess such ridiculous qualms. So I kept to myself.

"My mother came to my bedroom that evening and noticed I was awake. She asked me why I wasn't sleeping. I told her the truth, but I made her promise she wouldn't tell anyone, and she vowed to keep my secret. From that evening forward, she came to my bedchamber every night, holding a burning candle for light, and sat beside my bed. She ran her fingers through my hair as she waited for me to fall asleep, and assured me she would stand guard against the night demons. She did it for years, and even when she was sick, she still came."

Accacia squeezed his hand. "Thank you for sharing," she said. Aleco nodded and kissed her hand. "Why did he do it?" she whispered. Aleco knew what she meant.

"He wanted to be the duke," he said simply. "There is no other reason. He is too impatient. He didn't want to wait for my parents to die by normal means before he was recognized as the ruler. He wanted it right then."

"I don't understand," she said. "Why did he try kill you, then?"

"Since I am the older twin, by thirty minutes, he knew I was the next relative to seize the crown."

"How old was he?"

"Seventeen," he said.

"And how long ago was this?"

"Twenty years ago."

Accacia calculated the passage of time in her mind. She realized Aleco's age and was surprised by the differences in their years of experience. "You're thirty-seven?" she asked in surprise.

"Yes." Aleco laughed. "Does my age bother you?"

"No," she said. "I just didn't realize you were ten years older than me. You don't look it."

"Royal families age differently than other humans," he explained. "We live to be about two hundred—now you understand why Drake couldn't wait that long."

"Why do you age differently?" she asked.

"I'm not completely certain," he said. "We often interbreed with other royal families, and it keeps the longevity going. That's why choosing a mate is so difficult. They have to be highborn, but you can't be too closely related. Every duke on the Continent is somehow related to their spouse. My mother was my father's fourth cousin."

Accacia laughed. "Well, I guess the duke had no intention of marrying me then. I guess I would have found my freedom eventually." Aleco said nothing. He knew that was his brother's intention all along. Accacia thought about the images she saw in Aleco's Soul Catcher, and recalled the moment where Aleco was framed by Drake. She still didn't understand why Aleco was so upset that she looked through his past. "Aleco, please don't be mad at me."

He looked at her. "Don't give me a reason to be and I won't," he said. He saw fear creep into her face and he smiled. "I'm only kidding, Accacia. What do you want to know?"

"Why were you so angry when I looked into your Soul Catcher?"

Aleco looked away. He was wondering when this subject would arise. Aleco remembered the day with such clarity, the day he almost lost her forever. His blood pounded in his ears when he thought about the way he found her in the woods, being forced to the ground. What if he hadn't arrived in time? "A Soul Catcher is an extension of your soul—hence the name. By browsing through my memories, you were basically reading my mind. All my thoughts, opinions, hopes, and dreams are stored within that stone—and you had access to it all. There are things I would never want you to know about me, and you were digging through it like a pile of trash," he said. "If you kept digging, I am sure you would have uncovered my true attraction to you, and the fantasies I had about you—the last thing I wanted you to see."

Accacia blushed at his confession.

"I can't trust people, Accacia. It's nearly impossible to do. You are the first person I've trusted in twenty years, if you can believe that. When I gave you my trust all those weeks ago, revealing my true identity to you, and then you defied my privacy—it was more than I could bear. I wouldn't have been as angry if I didn't trust you, but since I did, I was furious.

"I never should have reacted the way I did, and I am still sorry about the way I treated you. It was completely unforgiveable and never should have happened. I will regret that day forever."

"I forgive you, Aleco," she said as she cupped his face.

"I know," he said. "But I'm still sorry. It won't happen again."

"I know," she said in return.

He smiled at her faith in him.

"I'm sorry I invaded your privacy," she said. "That never should have happened."

"Don't be," he said. "I'm glad you did. I have nothing to hide from you anymore." He stared at her for a moment before he asked his next question. He wanted to know the answer, but feared it at the same time. "When you are with me—do you think of him?"

"Not at all," she said. "There is no comparison."

"When did that change?"

"When you taught me how to defend myself," she said. "When I looked at you on the first afternoon of our training, I saw the pain of my rejection reflected in your eyes, a suffering I had never seen Drake reveal. I finally saw you for who you really were, not Drake—but Aleco."

"Why did it take you so long to tell me?"

She looked away. "I didn't think you wanted anything to do with me. I thought I damaged your heart so much that you would never forgive me."

He turned her face toward him. "Accacia, there is nothing you could ever do to keep me away. I will always forgive you."

She smiled at him. He leaned in and kissed her, displaying his unconditional love for her in his actions alone, just as she had done for him all those weeks ago. The taste of her lips sent shivers down his spine, and his body stirred with arousal. He would have her as many times as he could that night. Accacia caught the heated look in his gaze, the look he gave her when he wanted her. She knew he didn't only want her, but needed her. She reached out and caressed his body, and he stiffened at her touch.

She crawled on top of him, and moved her lips down his neck, past his chest, down his stomach, and to his waist beneath the sheets. She disappeared from view, but Aleco knew what she was doing by touch alone. He felt her wet mouth surround him and moaned at her abilities. He gripped the back of her neck and grabbed her tangled hair as she continued to please him. He rocked his hips deeper into her until he felt the electricity spark through his body and released himself with a loud groan.

She climbed out from under the sheet and laughed at the grin on Aleco's face. "Did you like it?"

He grabbed her face and kissed her, silently answering her question. "What did I do to deserve that?"

"You saved my life a couple times, if I recall." She smiled.

"Yes, I did," he said. "More than once." He winked.

She laughed at his words. "When did these feelings start?" she asked as she pulled away. "I was certain you hated me for the first few weeks."

"I did."

She laughed at his honesty.

His eyes turned serious. "When I abused you beyond repair, physically and verbally, and I threw you away from my protection, you did something I didn't expect—you tried to save my life. Even after the way I treated you, you still cared for me and were loyal to me. I couldn't believe you did that. That's when everything changed—when I changed."

Her eyes softened at his words. She trailed her fingers down the strong muscles of his chest and kissed the flesh directly over his beating heart.

"Why did you do it, Accacia?"

She met his gaze. "I couldn't let you die. You deserved to be free. You are the only hope we have to overthrow him. How could I let the Continent's remaining hero perish?"

Aleco laughed. "That couldn't be further from the truth."

"It's your destiny."

"Horseshit—it's my destiny."

"I will help you in whatever way I can," she said.

He looked away from her. Even if he did organize a brilliant plan to kill Drake, he would never include Accacia in it. The further she was from him, the more at ease Aleco would be. He didn't want his brother to even look at her. She was his. Anger coursed through his body when he thought about the criminal acts Drake was responsible for. "Do you remember your parents?" he asked.

"No," she said. "Not really. I was so young when everything happened. My earliest memory was a butterfly landing on my nose in the forest. I have no memories of my homeland."

"I hope you travel there someday."

"Me too," she agreed. "But I doubt I would be accepted into their society."

"Why do you say that?" he asked. "They would love you, Accacia. I'm certain of it."

"Well, I've been living with the enemy for so long," she reasoned. "They would never give me their trust."

"You would earn it quickly," he assured her.

"If they don't kill me the moment my foot lands on the island," she said.

"They won't," he said firmly.

Accacia closed her eyes and said nothing. He knew she was battling the tears behind her lids. Aleco realized how broken they both were, and knew their meeting wasn't by chance; their paths were meant to collide. He comforted her as much as she did him.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Accacia," he said. "I apologize on behalf of my family. I know my mother is ashamed of both her sons. She is watching us from the afterlife, smiting us silently with words that we mortals can't hear."

"She would only be ashamed of one son," she whispered as she hugged him.

Aleco laughed. "I'm a horrible man, Accacia. You wouldn't have made love to me if you knew half the things I've done."

"Perhaps," she said honestly. "But are you still that man?"

"No," he said.

"Then, it doesn't matter."

Orgoom Forest

32

The deadly bite of winter had reached its peak, flooding the forest paths and treetops with blankets of white powder, and burying the defiant plant life beneath piles of heavy snow. Father Giloth and his Naturalists worked the most during the winter season, protecting the delicate plants from the frosty temperatures. They moved the most sensitive plants into a glass building that shielded the vegetation from the unrelenting weather, allowing the sun to shine through on those rare days when the storm clouds would pass.

Father Giloth hated the winter solstice because of the damage it caused the inhabitants of the forest, both the creatures and plant life, but for the first time, he didn't want the season to pass. He enjoyed the time he spent with his reconnected daughter, speaking to her beside the warmth of the fire while they shared a pot of tea. He could only imagine the horrific ordeal she had experienced within Drake's arms, but he never questioned her because he couldn't stand to hear the tale. Accacia was very content despite the traumatic experience. Father Giloth knew the source of her cheer was Aleco. That was why he waited to reveal the truth of her past until Aleco was present; he had endured a similar experience. Who would understand her better than him?

The ends of her lips upturned into an infectious smile as she gazed into the flames. Father Giloth immediately knew the subject of her thoughts. Absentmindedly, she traced the rim of her teacup with her finger and her smile stretched wider, obviously reliving an intimate event within her mind. Father Giloth was very happy for both of them. They deserved every moment of scarce happiness they could find, but he also pitied them because they didn't know what was coming, and he didn't have the heart to tell either of them just yet.

Accacia left Father Giloth's home every evening and joined Aleco in his cottage. Before the sun rose each morning, she would return and slip into her bed before Father Giloth and Natalia awoke, even though Father Giloth already knew of her whereabouts. The overwhelming evidence from the forest made it quite clear. Accacia eventually grew tired of the charade and Aleco grew more sullen waking up to her repeated absence, so they decided to end the deception. Accacia brought her belongings to Asylinth Cottage. Accacia still visited the house every day, spending time with Father Giloth in the field or his study, much to Aleco's annoyance, but she returned to the cottage in the evenings, where she belonged to him alone. That pleased Aleco immensely. He hated to share her with anyone, even the old man, so his afternoons were spent in agony awaiting her return. They spent their evenings in the parlor, where Accacia cooked dinner in the kitchen, and Aleco watched her from his seat beside the hearth, his cup filled with spiced tea rather than his usual poison. Their meal was composed of meatless delicacies, which Aleco had no quarrel with since he had changed his diet to a vegetarian one. Accacia never asked him to make such a sacrifice. Aleco had done so voluntarily, and she appreciated the gesture.

The harsh winter took its toll on the forest, leaving the grounds packed with snow and the sensitive wildlife buried beneath it. Accacia, Aleco and the other Naturalists moved the snow from these locations to spare the delicate plant life and ensure its survival. Since many of their manufactured remedies relied upon the ingredients found within their forest, it was essential to protect it. They would break off into pairs to assist other areas of the land, but Accacia and Aleco often became more interested in other activities, and abandoned their posts for hours. Father Giloth knew of their averted actions, but said nothing. The knowledge made their meetings awkward at times, and Father Giloth wished he didn't know the heated details of their physical relationship. The intensity of their feelings made him uncomfortable—very uncomfortable. There was no doubt of the depth of Aleco's feelings—he was absolutely in love with her, but he couldn't determine her feelings for him. They were contradicting and confusing. The answer wasn't absolute, but he suspected that she did love him, at least he hoped she did, for Aleco's sake.

The weeks passed by in a flash. It felt like the passing of hours in a single day rather than weeks passing within a month. Soldiers entered the wood one afternoon, stating the duke would withdraw most of his troops from the border since they had not found Accacia in months. The Lord Aleutian assumed she had settled elsewhere. Luckily, Aleco and Accacia were within the cottage when the cavalry visited the forest.

Aleco enjoyed every moment he spent with Accacia, and even though he was with her nearly all the time, it was never enough. When she visited Father Giloth, he grew lonely in despair and desperate for her company. He wished she wouldn't go, but he bottled his selfishness and reluctantly let her slip from his arms. She was never gone for more than a few hours, and she was only a short walk away, but her absence drove him insane with longing. It was like the loss of a fire in the depth of winter. When she finally entered the doorway, he swept her into his arms, embracing her with passionate kisses as if she'd just returned from a three-month journey. Without speaking a word, he would lay her on the dining table and make love to her like it was the last chance he would ever get.

Accacia reflected on the death of her parents, and her surprising lineage every day. The knowledge that Drake, the man she bedded daily for so many years, had been the one responsible for their deaths, was even more disturbing. She had slept beside their killer every night.

She contemplated the stone and realized the gem behaved differently towards her than it did to the men. She wondered if it was related to her lineage, or if it was purely coincidental. The stress of her concerns melted away when Aleco directed his heated gaze on her, the look she recognized when he wanted her. He would make love to her, forcing the worries from her mind and soul, replacing them with pleasure and satisfaction. Their time together kept the disturbing speculations away, stored in the back of her mind until Aleco was unable to distract her thoughts.

Accacia's dreams were filled with nightmares of Drake pinning her down and ripping the unborn child from her insides, breaking the baby's neck with his hands. As Drake threw the corpse into the fire, Accacia screamed. She tried to rise from the bed, but her hands kept slipping on the bloody sheets.

Accacia's hysterical shouts woke Aleco with a start. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her from the nightmare. He was surprised her own shrieks didn't wake her from her horrific vision. He questioned her about the night terror, but she didn't answer. She felt her stomach with her hands then began to heave with sobs as she wrapped her arms around her abdomen, protecting a child that didn't exist. He suspected they were about Drake, but he had no idea to what extent. Aleco cradled her in his strong arms and kissed her on the brow. As he ran his hands through her hair and down her back, he whispered words of comfort in her native tongue. Accacia finally stopped crying and hugged Aleco, silently thanking the gods he was there.

The piles of snow receded from the forest and the ground was no longer hidden under fresh powder, but with the sludge of old, frozen snow. Early spring was creeping into Orgoom Forest, carrying both heat and light to the plants and animals. The dreaded day Father Giloth feared finally arrived, and he knew the news would change all their lives for the worse.

Father Giloth received the letter from a Roslyn emissary that first spring morning. The Nature Priest opened the note with shaking hands, and his heart dropped when he recognized Lord Artremian's handwriting. He didn't need to read the letter to know the contents. It included the decision made by the council. At the insistence of Lord Letumian, Father Giloth and Father Hyphalia had been prohibited from attending the meeting, stating they had no purpose in politics and should remain within their holy sectors. Lord Artremian promised he would send news of the council's decision immediately after it was made.

Father Giloth read the letter.

Father Orgoom Giloth, Orgoom Forest:

This letter is sent with regret. What we feared has come to pass—Drake has been legitimized as the Sole Sovereign of the United Continent. The coronation will commence five days hence—Father Hyphalia will preside over the ceremony.

The choice of the councilmen leaves me in surprise. They recognized the duke for what he was—or at least I thought they did. Rancar and the other councilmembers must have been compromised, but what they were bribed with I haven't the slightest idea.

I can promise one thing; it was preordained. Drake didn't attempt to fake his surprise at the council's announcement, despite their earlier statements against the possibility of a single ruler.

Rancar was sweating during the entire meeting despite the chilling weather. He is obviously hiding something. When I tried to question his decision, he said it was voted by the council and the choice couldn't be reversed. His handkerchief reeked by the end of the day.

I'm sorry this letter couldn't bring better tidings. I hope you are well, Father.

Art

Father Giloth read the letter twice, hoping he had misread it the first time. The news hung heavy on his heart. The worst had come to pass, and he knew what they faced would kill them all. He crumpled the paper in his hands and threw it into the fire, destroying any evidence that could be traced back to Artremian—one of his closest friends and allies. He was a good man and he feared for the man's future—especially since Father Giloth was powerless to help him. He sent Natalia to fetch Aleco and Accacia. The time had come.

Aleco and Accacia entered the study, smiling as they took their seats. Aleco held Accacia's palm within his own and rubbed her delicate knuckles with his thumb. It was rare to see them not touching each other in some way. Aleco hardly ever left her side. Accacia looked down at their joined hands and smiled at his affection. She enjoyed his touch.

A frown touched Father Giloth's eyes and he sighed before he began. "I have something to tell you both. It will not be pleasant," he said. "Not for me to tell, nor for you to hear."

Accacia dropped her smile. Aleco's thumb paused in its embrace. "What is it?" Aleco asked fearfully.

"I have received word from my source in the council that Drake has successfully unified all the armies under his command," he said. "He hasn't been crowned king just yet, but that will follow shortly, I have no doubt."

Accacia's mouth deepened into a frown at the news. Such an evil man in possession of such authority caused her body to tremble. She could have been his queen if she hadn't been rescued. She looked over at Aleco, silently thanking him for taking her away. "What do we do?" she asked. "There has to be something."

"Nothing," he replied. "There is nothing that can be done. The forces of evil working against us are paramount. No difference can be made by us."

"Yes, we can make a difference," she challenged. "Not just by the three of us, by your Naturalists, the people of Morkarh, all the citizens who suffer at his hands. Together, we can change the course of events."

"Us against two hundred thousand soldiers?" Aleco said sarcastically. "I like those odds."

"Well, we can't just give up."

"Yes, we can," Father Giloth said.

They both looked at him. He was the wisest man they knew. He always had the right answer. The idea of him surrendering was inconceivable. "What?" Accacia asked. "You are just going to let them take the forest? Isn't that against your oath?" she shouted. Her emotions were flowing from her quicker than she could stop them.

Father Giloth pressed his fingers to his lips and thought for a moment. "Let me try this again," he said calmly. "You will give up. I will die protecting the forest to my last breath, even though it will be useless. I will not be able to quench the unstoppable fire," he said simply. "But I will try nonetheless."

"You speak as if you expect to fail," she accused him.

"Because I do," he replied.

"How can you say that?" she asked with tears in her eyes, "With our help, you will not fail."

"No," Father Giloth said firmly. "You cannot help me in this."

"Yes, we can."

"No," he snapped.

Accacia was stung by the anger in his words. Father Giloth had never yelled at her before, or even expressed anger in any form. She didn't understand what provoked such a furious rebuttal.

Father Giloth lowered his voice. "Accacia, you cannot help me in this. It is my responsibility to protect the forest, not yours," he said. "Please respect that."

"I'm sorry, Father," she whispered. She averted her gaze to the floor, ashamed of her heated emotions.

"Besides, I have other plans for you," he said. "This is the difficult part."

Accacia and Aleco both looked at him, waiting for whatever pronouncement they couldn't predict.

"You will leave this land, travel to the secret island of your people, and never return, Accacia," he said. "It is your only option."

"My only option?" she repeated.

"Yes," he said. "It is the only one."

Aleco finally spoke. "Why can't she return?"

"There will be nothing left to return to, Aleco," he said. "If she does, she will be captured immediately. Drake will not end his search until he has her—dead or alive. He will have complete dominion over this land. She will never be safe."

"She can stay with me," Aleco said. "I know a place she will never be found."

"You would have her spend the rest of her days in a secluded area where she could never leave?" Father Giloth challenged. "She would never find happiness living that way. Eventually, they will find her, Aleco, whether on purpose or accident. If she is recaptured, she will never escape—not again."

"Fine," Aleco reasoned. "Then I will go with her."

Father Giloth sighed heavily. "Aleco—you can't."

"Why not, old man?" he shouted. His voice dripped with frustration. He wasn't parting with Accacia. He wouldn't let that happen. "I'm going with her—that's final."

"You can't, Aleco," Father Giloth repeated. "They will never accept a human among their people, even if Accacia accompanies you. And with your appearance, I suspect they will kill you immediately."

Aleco cursed to himself. His twin was responsible for the death of the Asquithian people who visited the land under a banner of peace. They would immediately assume they were one and the same. He released Accacia's hand and dropped his face into his palms, cursing under his breath. "Boggs," he snarled. The three sat in silence as the inevitable truth sank in—that Accacia was leaving this land.

Accacia broke the dead air. "I'm not going," she said.

Father Giloth fixed his gaze on her. "You must," he insisted. "There is nothing for you here. Live out your life with your people. It is the only place you will be safe."

"And leave everyone else to their fate?"

"Yes," Aleco spoke. He lifted his head from his palms and looked at her. "You need to leave."

Tears bubbled in her eyes. Aleco wanted her to go and that hurt her deeply. "I can't abandon everyone I care about," she said as she stared at Aleco. "We can overcome this." She grabbed his hand and squeezed it, reassuring him of her faith.

"The old man is right," he said. "And you know how much I hate it when he is."

Father Giloth smiled at his words.

Aleco continued. "Even if we gather the free people in an uprising, we will be outnumbered a thousand to one, Accacia. One thousand to one. If we decide to go after Drake alone, past his mass of soldiers, guards, and palace walls, we will never succeed in killing him—since he is immortal.

"You don't know that," she said.

"Yes, I do," he said. "And when he finds you, I won't be able to protect you. You've already experienced more pain than anyone should ever endure and you deserve to be happy—I want you to be happy."

"I am happy," she whispered through her tears and squeezed his palm.

He kissed her. "If you stay here, I never will be," he said. "Please do this for me."

Accacia looked down at their joined hands. She felt the rough patches on his fingers with her own callouses, the ones she had received during her battle training.

"Accacia?" he pressed. "I hate this as much as you do, but you have to do this."

"No," she refused.

"Accacia," he snapped. His blue eyes were in flames at her disobedience. "You would defy both of our wishes—the two men who care about you?" Aleco's anger began to seep through. The ferocity flashed in his eyes as he listened to her defiance. "You have two choices: either you can do as I say, or I can make you do as I say. What's it going to be?"

Accacia knew how to sheath his anger. She had learned the tactic during their time together in Orgoom Forest, and she wished she had known the secret sooner. It would have been useful when she was traveling with this sulky stranger across the Continent, listening to his insults and hateful comments. She cupped his cheeks with her fingers and kissed him. Father Giloth looked away at the affection, uncomfortable by the sight. She removed her lips and heard an audible sigh, a replacement for the usual moan he always made.

"It's not going to work, Accacia." He was still angry, but his fury had dwindled significantly. At least he wasn't threatening her anymore. He grabbed her hands and held them to his chest. He looked her in the eye. "Please do this for me."

Accacia hated the idea of leaving the Continent, abandoning the man she loved and her father, but she was moved by the determination in Aleco's eyes. He would have it no other way. "Okay." She sighed.

Aleco forced himself to smile. Accacia had obeyed his command, but it brought him no satisfaction. He didn't want her to leave. The only reason he encouraged her to go was because he knew she would be safe—and that's all that mattered. The idea of her absence—permanent absence—made him sick to his stomach. He couldn't breathe, despite the rise and fall of his chest. He couldn't think about anything but the excruciating pain of the loss. He wanted to die. He couldn't see the purpose in going on without her. "Thank you," he whispered. His tears hid behind his eyes, and he blinked them back.

"You need to leave soon, Accacia," Father Giloth said.

Accacia nodded.

"The duke will approach the forest, and he will unleash everything he has to bring it down. You need to be gone when he does," he said. "You will leave three days hence."

"Three days?" Aleco asked.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," he said. The pain on Aleco's face shattered the old man's heart. He was finally happy, but soon his depression would be greater than it ever was. Father Giloth wished he had a different fate. "We will begin our preparations immediately."

Accacia and Aleco rose to their feet. Accacia left the study first, but Father Giloth held Aleco back. "We need to talk, Aleco."

"When?" he asked.

"Return when Accacia is asleep."

Aleco nodded.

Accacia was sleeping on his chest, one arm hooked around his neck, while the other rested on his stomach. His arm circled her torso while the other ran through the strands of her hair. It was the first night they didn't make love.

Aleco turned over slowly and moved Accacia from his chest to the bed. She didn't wake as he shifted her, but she sighed loudly at his movements. She began to shiver from the absence of his body heat, and her arms freckled with bumps from the cold. He covered her with the blanket and kissed her temple. He dressed himself, tossed another log onto the fire, and left for the house.

Father Giloth sat at his chestnut desk in the study. His table was empty except for two objects: a red stone and a blue stone. Aleco took his seat across from him. The heat of the fire thawed his extremities. The house was only feet away, but it was enough to chill his body.

"Why am I here?" he growled. Every moment with Accacia was precious; he didn't want to waste it there.

"There are a few things you need to know," he said. "When Accacia leaves, you will be too delirious to hear them, so it's best if I say this now."

Aleco nodded his agreement.

"A new Nature Priest will need to be appointed when I meet my end. I have sealed my choice within this Soul Catcher," he said as he lifted the stone. It was red like dry blood on a handkerchief. "This stone houses all my knowledge, and it will guide my successor through any problems he may face. It also contains wisdom in other matters as well. It encompasses my entire order, my entire life."

"Why are you telling me this?" he snapped.

"Because you need to know where this is when the time comes," he explained. "When it reveals the successor I have chosen, my staff and the powers of the forest will respond only to him, and him alone."

Aleco nodded.

"Can I count on you?" he asked.

"Yes," he said.

Father Giloth placed the stone on a high shelf in the corner. Aleco watched him. "You act like death is unavoidable," he said.

"That's because it is, my son."

"Your upcoming death doesn't seem to trouble you," he observed.

"I will perish so something greater than I will flourish. I am prepared to meet my maker and reunite with my family," he said. "Why should I be troubled?"

"What about those you leave behind?" he said. "You have no concern for them? Your time is over, so let the others deal with the problem?"

Father looked at him. "The forest will survive at the cost of my death. The outer edge may burn in flames, but the center of the woods will persevere. Of course, I care about what I leave behind."

"How do you know this?" he asked. "I know you have paramount powers as a Nature Priest, but I didn't realize seeing the future was one of them."

Father Giloth said nothing. He grabbed the other rock from the table; the heavy one Accacia had appraised before, and looked at Aleco. "I know what this is, Aleco," he said. "Do you wish to know as well?"

Aleco looked at the metallic gem. Accacia had a vested interest with the stone as well. He wondered why she wasn't included in their moonlight discussion. "Yes," he said.

"Give me you word that you will not relay this knowledge to Accacia. You can't reveal my upcoming passing either," he said. "This entire conversation is confidential."

"Why don't you want her to know?"

"It will only hurt her," he said. "She is about to leave, Aleco. There is no point in making her suffer needlessly."

Aleco nodded. He could agree to that.

"It is similar to a Soul Catcher," he said as he turned the stone with his palm, "but it does not harvest memories from minds to be relived later. It does something very different—it harvests souls."

"Harvests souls?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes," he said. "Within these stones live actual souls—of people—and their souls offer energy to the beholder of the gem. The power the person accumulates in life will accompany them in death, and this energy can be accessed by the beholder. For instance, a king will contain more energy and power than a peasant."

"All souls aren't equal in value?"

"Definitely not," he said. "This is how one can be immortal," he continued. "When someone suffers a mortal wound, a treacherous fall, or old age, they can withdraw energy from the souls stored within the gem to restore their bodies."

"What happens when an entire soul is used?"

"It vanishes," Father Giloth said simply.

"Does it go to the afterlife?"

"No," he said. "It ceases to exist. It does not travel to the light or the dark, it just vanishes. Their souls are no longer immortal."

"Gods," he breathed. It was worse than death. "What happens when a gem is depleted of souls?" Aleco asked. "Is that person no longer immortal?"

"Technically, yes," he said. "But they probably have another stone stowed away, or they can refill their empty gem with new souls, which would be difficult because they are very rare."

"Why are they rare?"

"Only Asquith souls can be stored within the stone."

Aleco's eyes widened. "Why does it house them exclusively?"

Father Giloth sighed. "The Asquith people are the creators of the finest weapons. They used a rare metal that allowed them to create such useful battle tools. The metal was also useful in construction of keeps, homes, and palaces. The keep of Roslyn is made with this material, where the guild collected these stones. The magic they used to create this material inadvertently created a hollow gap within it, allowing someone to store their thoughts for review at a later time. What they didn't know was that the stone could also act as a Soul Binder, which is what these stones are."

Aleco was confused. "Why would they make Soul Binders if it risked their immortality?"

"They didn't realize the abilities of these gems until it was too late. They were far from reach in a land they had no control over. I suspect that when Accacia's parents, the ambassadors of their realm, came to the Continent, their true agenda was either to harvest the stones or destroy them."

"How do you destroy them?" Aleco asked with earnest.

"I have no idea," he said. "It may be impossible. The weapons they forged will not melt, break, bend, or dull despite the best efforts to do so. This is why their weapons are priceless," Father Giloth said. "Their stones are also unbreakable."

Aleco's face fell. "Why are there souls within these gems?"

"The combination of the stones used to erect the keep of Roslyn contains a plethora of these gems, and their presence creates a beacon which sucks wandering souls into the stone, sealing them within the surface forever. When an Asquithian is murdered, their soul is attracted to the stone and enters it. If an Asquithian perishes by normal means, their souls will remain unaffected by the power of the gems.

"Where did these souls come from?"

"When Drake flooded the island, their entire population was massacred," he said. "When their souls were wandering to the light, they felt the beacon of the Soul Binders in Roslyn, and their entities were sucked into the rock."

Aleco stood up and paced the room. He wanted to vomit. All of Accacia's kin were stuck within these stone prisons, captive for uncounted years. Their immortal souls were merely gas in another man's engine, and then the used souls simply vanished. Accacia could never know the truth of the Soul Binders. A horrific thought flooded his mind as he thought of her. "Drake murdered Accacia's parents," he said more to himself than Father Giloth. "That would mean—"

"Yes," he said. "Their souls are trapped as well."

Asylinth House

33

Aleco poured himself a brandy from the decanter. He swallowed the liquid in one gulp. "When will she leave?" Aleco asked.

"A boat and crew will be waiting for her on the morning of the third day. They will carry her five miles from the coast of the island, and she will row a lifeboat the rest of the way."

Aleco nodded. "Are they trustworthy?"

"The sailors or the Asquithians?" he asked.

"Both."

"The sailors will not harm Accacia. They have my trust. I have no doubt the Asquithian society will accept Accacia. They will fear her initially, but I know she will ascend in their government and gain their trust," Father Giloth said. "How could they not love her?" Father Giloth drained his own glass of whiskey.

Aleco nodded his agreement. "What of me?"

Father Giloth looked at him. "What of you?"

"How will I overthrow Drake?" he asked. "If I want your advice, I should ask now, right?"

"You intend to pursue this?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

"Until he is dead or I am," he said. "Whichever comes first."

"It is hopeless, Aleco," he whispered.

"No arguments there. But I have to figure out how to destroy the Soul Binders," he said. "I care more about that than killing Drake."

"They can't be destroyed," he said.

"Are you certain?" Aleco asked.

"No," Father Giloth admitted.

"Then I will try," he said. "I owe Accacia that much."

Father Giloth stared at Aleco. The light of hope flickered in his eyes like a candle running low on wick. He hated to be the one to douse the flame. "Aleco, even if you overthrow Drake, establish yourself as the rightful ruler, and free the souls of Accacia's late parents, she will never return—ever."

"She might," he whispered.

"She won't know the way, her people won't release her, and she won't have a ship," he said. "And she will never know the events of the Continent, so she will have no reason to return."

"I'll find her," Aleco said.

"How long will it take you to accomplish your wildest dreams, and then find her? She will have moved on by then, son," he said. He looked at the stoic expression on Aleco's face, and knew he was on the brink of rage. Father Giloth hated expressing these horrible thoughts, but Aleco needed to hear the voice of reality. "I'm sorry, Aleco, but it's the truth. Enjoy your time with her and cherish the memory then move on—I know you will find happiness again someday."

Aleco laughed. "I thought you weren't allowed to lie."

"I'm not," he answered.

Aleco rose from his seat. "Your advice is no longer needed," he said. "If I wanted to give up, I wouldn't need to ask you how. I can just watch you do it."

Aleco turned towards Father Giloth once more before he left the house. The command in his voice reverberated around the room. "Accacia is mine until she leaves," he said. "You have no bidding rights when it comes to her time. Drake dragged her from the forest, and you did nothing to stop him. You knew what he planned to do, but you still failed to protect her. She claims to forgive you, but I never will."

Father Giloth dropped his gaze at Aleco's words.

"With those majestic powers you possess, you could have intervened, but you didn't even try," he yelled. "All those years you could have spent with her are gone. Now it is my turn to cherish them, the only one who is worthy to do so.

"I am the one who rescued her, saved her life so many times that I can't recall the number, and you did nothing. She was there for three years, and you did nothing." Anger flooded his body at the travesty Father Giloth had committed—the man who claimed to be her father. He had been angry with the old man before, but never like this. The knowledge that she was leaving tore a hole in his chest. None of this would be happening if Father Giloth had protected her that afternoon. "You aren't awakened every night by the screams of her nightmares, which are always about the same thing—Drake."

"Enough." He silenced him.

Aleco left the house, slamming the door behind him.

Aleco slid his body between the sheets. He buried his face within the crook of her neck and breathed in the scent of her hair, something he would treasure during his lonely nights without her—but he couldn't think about that. Aleco withdrew his Soul Catcher from his necklace, where he now stored the stone, and inserted the memories of their winter within the gem. The intimate moments when they made passionate love, laughed together under the trees, and the serene moments when he watched her sleep—all worthy of being remembered.

The contents of his Soul Catcher had been altered. What was once a storage of painful memories full of death, revenge, and bloody battles, was replaced with the memories he made with Accacia—the only happy memories he possessed. They were going to have to last him a lifetime. For Aleco, there was no moving on—this was it.

Aleco wanted the following days to be the best they ever had—but the gods always laugh at your plans. They made love often, more than usual, but their conversations were forced and difficult. They refrained from discussing upcoming events, Accacia's departure, Drake's coronation, the fate of the forest, and the freedom of the citizens of the Continent, which left few subjects to discuss. The only safe avenue was the past—which was a painful topic for both of them.

Accacia attempted to visit Father Giloth often, but Aleco always distracted her from her goal. He had no plans of sharing her. He found himself staring at Accacia almost every second, memorizing her face for the years to come. She knew why he did this, but never commented on it.

Their last evening together was the hardest night. They ate dinner in silence, as they both thought about what they didn't want to discuss, and they looked at each other with saddened expressions. Aleco was enraged with the events of his life. He'd already lost his parents—did he have to lose her too?

That night, Accacia slid her bare body between the sheets and watched Aleco stir the embers of the fire. She watched his back muscles ripple in the light of the flames as he moved. He threw another log onto the fire and the flames rose. Aleco rose from the hearth and followed her under the covers. His warm embrace surrounded Accacia and made her sigh—she knew how much she would miss his touch. He caught her expression and kissed her lips, attempting to change the course of her thoughts, but it made her realize how much she would miss that, too.

Aleco leaned over and inserted himself within her, and she gasped at his entrance and pulled him deeper. He made love to her in a way he never had before. He focused his attention on the soft touch of her skin, the feel of her silky hair, and the beautiful green color of the eyes that always betrayed her hidden emotion. They were soaked with tears. The sight pulled at his heart, and his tears fell too, dripping on her chest as they made love in the throes of their pain. Neither of them enjoyed the interaction the way they had before, but they needed to be as close to each other as possible.

They didn't sleep the entire night. They spent the evening discussing insignificant topics, and embracing each other as if it would be their last opportunity. Their limited time together made him realize just how special every moment was with her, and he wished fate had been more kind to both of them. Accacia's eyes never left his as she ran her hands down his chest and along the curves of his torso, savoring the feel of his muscular physique. The fair color of his skin complemented his crystal blue eyes, which were so beautiful it was painful to look away. The image flooded her mind even when she closed her eyes. The stern cheekbones of his face and his large eyes made him the most attractive man she had ever seen. She ran her hands through the blond hair she adored, and felt the strands glide through the gaps in her fingers. He looked like a king. He had broad, muscular shoulders that always stood straight when he walked. His gaze was never unfriendly, but always kind, unless you gave him a reason to make a sour face, which was often, she learned. He was absolutely perfect. Aleco would never become the king he should be, and that tugged at her heart painfully. She had come to know Aleco for who he really was and not the sarcastic man he projected. He just had a broken heart like she did.

"I'm going to miss you," she whispered.

"Stop," he commanded her. He closed his eyes and held her hand to his heart. "Not yet."

Roslyn Palace

34

The peasants gathered around the grounds of the beautiful keep, staring up to the platform where Lord Letumian stood. His crown glittered in the spring sun and shined brighter than the stars on a cloudless night. Father Hyphalia chanted his blessing through the Channel of Souls, the hollow spire that reached up to the sky. Drake kneeled before his feet while Father Hyphalia communicated with the gods of the universe, asking for wisdom and guidance for the new king, the first they'd had in many generations. Father Hyphalia ended his communication through the Channel and looked down at the Sole Sovereign of the Unified Continent. "Rise," he commanded.

The king rose to his feet and smiled. The strong wind blew the strands of blond hair from his eyes and revealed the cerulean color of his irises, which glowed in the light of the sun. He fit the description of a kingly sovereign with his handsome features and strong frame. He supported the burden of his armor and gleaming sword, but the look was deceptive. His black heart was hidden from view.

Drake approached the end of the metallic platform and looked down at the peasants gathered in the streets. They cheered as they caught sight of the magnificent king, standing tall over the rail with the golden crown upon his head. He smiled down at his citizens and they cried again.

He walked back to the center of the dais and looked at the other dukes of the Continent. As the recognized leader of the surrounding realms, Drake had power that surpassed their own. His dominance was absolute. They were mere figureheads now.

"Congratulations, Your Highness," Artremian said as he extended his hand.

Drake took it. "Thank you, Artremian ."

The Steward of Morkarh approached him. His red cape billowed around him in the wind, and his metallic necklace shined silver in the light. "To many fruitful years, Your Majesty," he said as he grabbed his shoulder.

"Yes, many fruitful years," he answered. He smiled at his ally and friend. His cooperation was essential to this undertaking. Drake would reward his allegiance handsomely during his reign.

"May the gods bless your role as the leader of this Continent," Father Hyphalia spoke. "We are at your disposal during this time and will assist you in any way we can."

"Thank you, Your Grace."

Of course, my son," he answered.

Drake looked at the congregation of officials surrounding him. Rancar nodded at him from his high seat alongside the other councilmen. Rancar had also been essential for this glorious day and Drake would remember his effort. He noticed Father Giloth's absence. "Under my command, the unified armies of the Continent will guard and protect the innocent lives of those who cannot protect themselves. The possibility of war between nations will disappear and our commerce will blossom with fortune," he said. "The horrific past of our nation is buried with those who lie in their crypts, and I will never repeat their mistakes. The Continent will always be at peace as long as I am here to protect it. Will you stand with me?"

"Yes." They finished the pledge. "Always we will."

The duke smiled. "Let's begin this new age."

Harbor of Orgoom Forest

35

Father Giloth, the Naturalists that Accacia knew well, and Aleco walked her to the harbor at the far end of Orgoom Forest. Every thud of his boots against the earth reminded Aleco of the second hand of a clock, ticking towards the hour of his doom. He held her hand as they walked. Before they even approached the harbor, tears were stinging behind his eyes. Aleco blinked them away. If Accacia saw his tears, she would cry too.

The massive ship came into view when they exited the trees. Its craftsmanship was evident in the dimensions, making the boat sturdy and formidable. White sails reached to the sky, and the wind danced along the seams. The sun splashed the fabric of the mast and highlighted the color, making it look as pure as bleach. The brightness of the sunstar reflected in the ocean water, and the waves sparkled under its rays. It couldn't have been a more beautiful day. It was as if the elements themselves were wishing Accacia farewell. Aleco looked over at Father Giloth, and suspected he had intervened in the weather.

Men were hauling cargo onto the ship. Aleco assumed they were extra provisions for the lengthy trip. Their feet left the wild grass of the forest and thudded against the planks of the pier, which extended out to sea for one hundred feet. Accacia stopped in her tracks before she stepped onto the pier. Aleco nudged her forward.

The captain of the ship approached Father Giloth and they embraced. "Thank you for granting me this favor, Captain."

"Of course, after all you have done for my family, it is the least I can do," he said. "I am happy to do anything for you, Father."

Father Giloth smiled.

"Now where is the stowaway?" he asked. His skin was brown and leathery from exposure to the sun. It contrasted against the whiteness of his teeth, making him appear darker in comparison. He smiled at the group of gatherers and looked into the faces of each person. His eyes landed on Accacia. "Hello, my dear."

"Hello." She smiled. The brightness of the sun caused her eyes to squint, so she shielded her face with her hand. "I've never sailed before," she admitted.

"You are going to love it, dear." He smiled. "I've been sailing for twenty years. Believe me when I say that I'll get you wherever you need to go, safe and sound."

"I look forward to it," she said.

"Can I have your pack and belongings?" he asked.

"Thank you," she said as she handed him her gear.

"Whenever you're ready," he said as he turned away.

Aleco let go of Accacia's hand. She turned to the Naturalists she had known her entire life and said goodbye to each of them in turn. She smiled warmly as she said her farewells, and Aleco was surprised by her reserved emotions. They each kissed her on the brow and returned to the forest, giving her privacy with Father Giloth. Tears covered all their faces.

He smiled at her. "I am very happy for you, Accacia. I always hoped you would visit your people," he said. "You will be welcomed, I am certain of it."

"I hope you are right, Father." She smiled in return, staring at the man she had known as a father her entire life, and the tears began to swim before her. She looked down and blinked them back. She silently berated herself for not lasting longer.

Father Giloth lifted her chin. "Accacia, I'm sorry I failed to protect you from the duke all those years ago. I want you to know that I have never forgiven myself for it." His watered eyes mirrored her own.

"Please don't say that," she whispered through her tears. "It wasn't your fault. I forgive you, so please forgive yourself, Father."

"I can't," he whispered. "I'm going to miss you dearly."

She hugged him. "I will miss you." She sobbed.

They embraced on the deck of the harbor, holding each other for the last time in this life. The seagulls cried overhead, but Accacia did not hear them. All she could hear were her childhood memories echoing in her mind. She recalled the worry on her father's face when she had lain in the meadow all day, arriving home after dark. He was so grateful she wasn't hurt that they celebrated that night with wine and dessert. She couldn't believe this was the end. "I love you."

Father Giloth lost his bearings and gave into the sobs himself. He clutched her tighter. "And—I—you," he managed to get out.

He pulled away and kissed her on the brow. "Goodbye, my daughter," he whispered. He turned away before she repeated the words, too overcome to hear them.

Accacia looked around the deck and spotted Aleco off to the side. He stood alone with his gaze fixed on her. His face had a stoic expression, but she noticed the clear outline of red circling his eyes. He looked more handsome than she could ever remember seeing him. He was unveiled, outside in the rays of the sun, and his blue eyes matched the hue of the crashing waves. She stared at the outlines of his trim body through his light shirt and wished they could be together once more, but she knew that time had passed. The thought alone caused her tears to resurface.

He walked to her, and her heartbeat quickened in her chest. She didn't want to say goodbye—she didn't know if she could. He read her mind. "Don't say it," he whispered as he kissed her tears away. He cupped the side of her face and pressed his forehead against hers. She felt his hot breath fall on her face and wished she could have him on that very deck. He read her mind again. "I'm still tired from last night." He smiled.

The gesture squeezed her heart painfully. He was trying to comfort her, make this as easy as possible for her, even though she was the one being spared the horrific crimes of the Continent. He would be stuck there, hunted for the rest of his life.

The tears came—she couldn't stop them.

His own words were choked with tears. "Hush," he whispered. "Please don't cry."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I can't help it."

"I know," he said through his own tears. Aleco felt the vulnerability of his soul leak through. He wanted to shed his tears after she left, wishing to spare her the sight. He decided to give her his final gift. "I have something for you." He pulled away from her and opened the capsule around his neck; the one she knew was empty. His Soul Catcher fell into his palm and he handed it to her. "I regret not sharing everything with you," he said, "and I hope this makes amends for what I did to you."

She grabbed the Soul Catcher. The meaning of his actions flooded her body. He was so furious when she had pried into his past that they had almost parted forever. Now she was the closest person to him, and no one knew him better than she. "I can't accept this, Aleco," she said as she handed it back. "But I appreciate the gesture."

"Please, Accacia," he said. "I want you to have it. Now you will always know what our time together meant to me." He handed it back.

Accacia wiped the tears from her face and looked at the gem. She withdrew her own soul gem and handed it to him. "Let's exchange," she reasoned. "You will know all my memories, and I will know all of yours."

Aleco looked down at her gem and smiled. He took the stone and placed it within his necklace. She did the same.

"Thank you," they said together. They both laughed with weak chuckles.

"You should get going," he whispered. "Weather is always unpredictable. Take advantage of its blessing while you can."

Accacia felt her heart pound while she stared at him. She didn't want to be apart from him; she wouldn't survive. Accacia wished she had appreciated him more when they were together. She regretted not accepting him into her heart long ago; he was already there anyway. Aleco was the only man she ever loved, and she couldn't believe she was being forced away from him after she was finally happy.

Accacia ran her palm across his face and kissed him, oblivious to sailors whistling from the ship. Father Giloth and the Naturalists were standing close by, but she didn't care what they saw. His tears splashed onto her face, and her own tears ran down his neck. He squeezed her body to his chest and cupped her face, feeling the softness of her cheek. When Aleco pulled away, he was heaving with sobs. "I'm going to miss you so much," he whispered. "You changed my life, Accacia. This is the first time I have ever been happy, ever been whole. You are my family—you are everything to me."

"I will miss you too," she said through her own tears. She kissed his cheeks. "I've never been happier either, Aleco. You made me feel safe for the first time in my life, that nothing could ever hurt me. I am indebted to you for saving me—however many times it's been." They both laughed through their tears. "You saved my life," she said. "How can I ever repay you?"

"You already did," he smiled, "and quite handsomely, I might add." She blushed at his reference. He noticed the color of her cheeks and smiled. "After everything we have done, that makes you blush." He laughed.

The pain stabbed her heart as she looked at him smile. She was going to miss him—more than she thought she would. She hugged him tightly and buried her face in his shoulder. He returned her embrace with equal force. She drank in his smell, memorized the feel of his skin on her fingers, and the taste of his lips. Her sobs returned. They held each other for several minutes, neither one saying a word, and savored their last embrace.

He pulled away and looked at her. "Accacia, I need to tell you something," he said, locking his gaze onto hers. "It may seem redundant or obvious, after everything I've said to you, done for you, and done to you, but just in case it wasn't clear—I love you." Aleco searched her gaze for a reaction, but her face was already flooded with tears, and he couldn't distinguish any new emotions. He noticed that even when she was drenched in tears, she was still absolutely gorgeous. Most people just look ugly when they cry, in his opinion, but not her. "And I will forever," he added.

She hugged him, and he embraced her. She said nothing as they held each other, and Aleco felt worried. He knew she loved him. He couldn't understand why she didn't confess it, in their last moment together—ever. Pain flooded his heart at her rejection. He thought her feelings were as obvious as his—but clearly he had been wrong. "Aleco—"

"Shhh," he hushed her. He didn't want to hear her explanation.

"I love you, too," she whispered into this ear.

Aleco shook as the words entered his head. He had suspected her feelings, but hadn't always been certain of it. If he had known, he would have confessed his love for her months ago, without fear of chasing her away. He sighed in relief at the revelation, and happiness flooded his body—followed by a great depression at their current circumstance. But Aleco would never forget the words she spoke to him. She loved him. She loved him.

"Accacia, I love you," he repeated as he held her tighter.

"And I love you, Aleco."

"Thank the gods." He sighed.

She laughed at his words. Accacia pulled away and looked at him one last time. She held back her next words since Aleco had instructed her not to say them. She was glad he did—they were too difficult to say anyway. She wanted her last words to be what they were—that they loved each other.

She kissed him once more, and without looking at him, walked towards the ship. She crossed the deck and stood at the rail. The crew untied the ropes and tossed them into the boat then kicked off the wooden pier and sailed out to open sea.

The wind billowed through her hair and tapered the strands around her shoulders. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, on the inside as well as the outside. He couldn't believe he was watching her leave his life—forever. The sun glinted off her tan skin, and made her eyes shine a brighter shade of green, which he could distinguish even at that distance. She looked like the mermaids men depicted in statues at the keel of their ships. His heart tugged painfully as the ship sailed further out to sea. He watched her grow smaller and smaller as she left his sight. When he could no longer distinguish her form, or even the dimensions of the boat, he fell to the deck floor and gave in to soul-breaking sobs at the loss of his life's love.

About The Author

E. L. Todd graduated from California State University, Stanislaus with a bachelor's in biological sciences and is receiving her master's in education. She works as a full-time writer and part-time editor. She lives in California with her friends and family.
The Soul Saga

Book One: Soul Catcher

Book Two: Soul Binder

Book Three: Soul Relenter

